A perfect time this to find myself at Navy Pier for an afternoon of Schiller, cooked up as tastily as only Chicago Shakespeare can manage at the moment. "Mary Stuart" in the wrong hands could be a snoozer, or worse, a squirmer, but these hands were so right and patted everything into place so smartly that I was on the edge of my seat as these two conniving queens dueled to the death.
I love that space. I love skimming my hand on the broad banister of the gleaming wooden staircase, Halfway up, I have to pause and regard the wall of window looking out on sun flecked waves, Chicago's skyline, and a boat. There's always a boat. This time it was an enormous cruiser, sleek beyond the telling of it, with lines that gave it motion while at rest. What a vista!
Armed copiously with Werther"s succulent caramel coffee candies, I took my seat and hoped for magic. And got it.
