I don't write about radio stations often, but on occasion the spirit moves me.  And the classical music station KUSC in Los Angeles has been sitting on shifting sands for a while and has finally moved me.

While I enjoy KUSC -- often a great deal, and I especially appreciate that it even exists since classical music stations have been dropping off the radio landscape over the past decade -- I've noticed that beginning a few months ago, the station has been playing significantly more movie soundtracks than in the past.  Those times in the past were always more than I personally cared for, but at least it was rare.  And I understand why KUSC played SO many soundtracks a few months back during Oscar time -- this is Hollywood after all, so let's celebrate our heritage (or something like that), so I accepted it with a sigh.  But unfortunately, the veering to movie scores didn't stop after the Oscars and has continued full-stem ahead.  Instead of one movie soundtrack every couple of weeks, it now almost seems at times to be one every other hour.  And no, I'm not wildly exaggerating, if exaggerating at all.
 
It is their station to program as they see fit, of course.  But as a listener, it's my choice how I spend my time.  And I don't find movie soundtracks even remotely to be classical music.  I fully-understand that one of their longtime (and superb, if often pretentious) announcers Jim Svedja loves them and loves inviting movie composers into the studio to talk to.  And I know that the music can be melodic and often lovely and uses an orchestra -- but then so did Percy Faith, Andre Kostalanez, and Montovani, as well as Spike Jones. Movie scores are a very-talented craft  which I much-admire, intended to be background music that augments the on-screen action, music that may not even stand-out and be noticed, so as not to distract.  Using an orchestra no more makes background music "classical" anymore than -- as Lincoln noted -- a kitten born in an oven makes it a biscuit.
 
Speaking only personally, I usually turn the station off when a movie score plays on KUSC.  Some of that is admitted petulance and a personal protest.  But much of is because with classical music running through my home most of the day, which is where I work, the abrupt change to a movie score is clear and often comes across as Music Lite, and a bit annoying. Far better than elevator music, but when you've had Beethoven, Mozart, Debussy, Mahler and Brahms wafting through the air and are adjusted to it, the comparison feels apt.  Sometimes with KUSC turned off, I switch to another station, sometimes I put a CD on.  I also will sometimes put KUSC back on when I later remember, but that can often be half a day.
 
Again, it's their station, and much of KUSC is very good, they have several very good announcers and often good programming, and I really do greatly appreciate that it exists at all.  And I even accept why tossing in a very rare movie score can fit here in "Hollywood."  They're trying to appeal to crowd not honed on classical music.  But I think this new effort of theirs, trying to build a classical audience by weaning them on a movie soundtrack once an hour is pursuing the Maltese Falcon, "the stuff that dreams are made of."  It's a lovely goal and idea, but underneath when you scratch off the paint what's there is just dross.  The problem isn't playing a movie soundtrack once in a rare while -- that's annoying, but I fully get it.  The problem is that KUSC playing SO many movie soundtracks now as standard programming fare in the regular daily lineup creates a foundation that is dumbing down a classical music station, just a step above playing only single movements of full symphonic pieces and some other changes I've noticed over the past six months or so.

It's all part of a larger whole.  If a station (whatever the format) is faiiling then I understand trying to fix what's not working. But the fixes should be towards enriching things to full strength, not tearing down the walls, that are holding up the ceiling.  And I don't get the sense that KUSC is failing with the audience.  They seem to just be "trying new things" for the heck of it.  For example, they now have a sister-station in San Francisco, and I'm sure that at times they're sharing the feed, so you're not always getting a local host.  It's fine for cost-cutting (if that's the intent), but the immediacy of locale has always been one of the strengths of radio -- local weather, local traffic, local events, local references even in classical music world that make a station personal, and not just Muzak.  

None of it is "terrible" (though borderline), but it's all part of dumbing down -- which is the antithesis of classical music.  This isn't being elitist.  This is a classical music station.  That's its very point.  That's its reason for existence.  No one has to like Beethoven.  People can adore movie soundtracks.  But this is a classical music station.  You wouldn't play oldies once an hour on an alternative rock station.  Hey, it's all rock-n-roll, they all use electric guitars and drums and an electric base, what's the problem?  I am sure there are people who like hearing movie soundtracks on KUSC.  They're good melodies.  But the problem is, if you make it part of the regular fare then the core audience who's there at the classical music station listening to classical music will eventually be gone, and what you're left with is movie themes.  And there's a reason that All Movie Themes radio stations aren't taking over the airwaves.

And on an admittedly even-more personal note, though related, the station started maybe a year-and-a-half ago a cutesy feature complete with a cutesy promotional introduction from a cheery announcer telling us over honky tonk music that it's time now for "Off-to-School" requests from the kiddies, an idea which has long-since outlived its charm.  It worked for about...oh, six weeks at most but then stopped having next-to-anything to do with kids requesting a classical piece (which more often than not -- seriously -- has been the "Theme to Star Wars") before they head to school. At this point, ever since the attempt fell apart at that six-weeks mark, it's mostly just adults sending in their requests.  To be clear, kids' classical requests is a great idea...if it worked, which sadly became clear it doesn't.  They just don't get many requests from kids. And morning drive-time requests is a perfectly good idea, too -- but just say that, say "It's time now for our Morning Request!" since that's what you've actually been doing for the past 18 months.  But hey, you could even make Mondays your Off-to-School request day, to start the school week right.  Just don't keep telling your listeners every single day that this is our "Off-to-School Request" when it's not that, when it has near-zero to do with the kiddies going to school.  And it hasn't been for a year-and-a-half.  The point is -- treat your listeners with respect, get it right and stop dumbing down yet one more thing day after day after day after day after day.

(By the way, how silly has it gotten? This week, they changed the name to -- "And now, it's time for today's Summer Vacation Request for Kids, or for Parents of Kids on Summer Vacation, or If You Have an Anniversary or Maybe It's Just a Special Day, or You Want to Celebrate That Special Someone..."   I'm not exaggerating.)

As I've said, I like KUSC. And I'm extremely glad it's on the air.  But classical music exists for people who want to hear classical music -- just as any format exists for listeners of that kind of material.  A few adaptations here and there can work fine, when done with structure, wit and intelligence -- WFMT in Chicago, perhaps the gold standard of classical stations and as serious as could be, occasionally tosses in comedy, Broadway, poetry and offbeat material, but they program those things mixed with classical pieces in brief segments that are all tied together with a theme connecting them -- and it works brilliantly.  There's a structure to it, a reason.  KUSC can do what they will.  But the core of classical music is its richness that has sustained over 400 years, and dumbing that down seems to work against its best interest.

Today was "Go to a Cubs game at Wrigley Field Day."  I always judge a visit to Wrigley as a success by one of two criteria.  The first is if the Cubs win.  They didn't, they lost 5-3 against Colorado, but it was a fun game, down to the Cubs having the bases loaded in the ninth inning.  The second criteria is if I don't splash mustard on my pants and shirt.  I didn't -- so at least in part it was a successful day!

The thing that I especially love about Wrigley Field is not the grace and Old World charm of the architecture, which I do love, but it's location.  In most of the world, cities build their stadium in some out of the way location where they can clear a lot of land, not just for the structure but also for parking.  But Wrigley Field is in the middle of a residential, tree-lined neighborhood of brownstones.  You're wandering along the sidewalk, turn a corner and then suddenly this ballpark sprouts up in front of you..
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​This is behind the ballpark, and that ahead is Sheffield Avenue, which borders the park behind right field.  Heading off to tiyr right would be Waveland Avenue behind the left field bleachers.  Up in the right corner you can just barely see the edge of famous manual scoreboard.

However, going to the ballgame wasn't the only treat of the visit to Wrigley -- or even the best.  The other day, I wrote here about my cousin Diana Leviton Gondek and how she had been commissioned to do a painting for the 50th anniversary of the Special Olympics.  And I mentioned she had recently be commissioned by the City of Chicago to make another Honor Horse sculpture as a tribute to fallen policeman, her third.  They had a ceremony for it at the 19th Precinct.

Well, it turns out that the 19th Precinct is at 850 Addison -- and Wrigley Field is 1060 Addison!  So, I took the L in early -- it stops a block from the ballpark -- and walked a couple blocks to the precinct station.  I proudly introduced myself as "cousin of the artist," and they were all gracious, and told me to make sure to tell my cousin how much they love the sculpture.  

As I told Diana, I would bring a painting of oats for it.  It was most appreciative.

​The elves taking care of the homestead were very disappointed they couldn't be there, too, because they wanted to take a ride on the horsey...

Usually when I head downtown into the city when I come to Chicago, I go to the Art Institute which tends to preclude me going to one of the restaurants I like.  I tend to get to the museum in the late morning, and it's just too inconvenient to leave mid-visit for lunch and then return back afterwards to the rest of the paintings.  This time, though, I decided to change my schedule a bit and took the L in to arrive around 11:15 so that I could go to The Berghoff for a very early lunch, and then go to the Art Institute after, which is only about two blocks away.

The Berghoff is a Chicago classic in every true sense of the word.  It's been there on Adams Street for a long time.  No, seriously long.  For 119 years, since 1898.

It's a German restaurant, and you really feel a sense of heading back into time when you walk in, though there's nothing musty about the place.  It's just Old World.  They keep it as fresh as reasonable, although walking back in -- I haven't been there in decades -- was totally family.  The only surface differences I noticed is that they now have women waitresses, and all the waiters were under the age of 60.

 
(Yes, it's empty here, but remember -- I said I got there a little after 11:15.  The place was much more full by the time that I left...)

The Berghoff makes its own beer, so I got a couple of samplers of the Original and the dark.  They also make their own bread, of give you a sort of "snifter" of pumpernickel, rye and some other.  And I othered the bratwurst, which I love.  It was all delicious.  

​Great to be back.

And then on to the Art Institute.  It's quite an amazing place, as I've mentioned.  Not just for the collection, which is remarkable, but how meticulously and thoughtfully it's all laid out.

When I was there last time, one of their famous paintings, American Gothic, was touring on loan.  I was hoping it would be back by now, but I was told I was three days too early, that it wasn't due until June 11.  However, when I got to the American Paintings of the early 1900s area...it was there!  Huzzah.  

But the real treat was that they have another famous American painting on loan right now, that I had no idea was there.  It's owned by the Paris Museum, and rarely seen in the U.S. -- in fact, it hasn't been at the Art Institute in 60 days.  But when I walked up the stairs to the American section, I saw a big sign for it.

I think there's a good chance you'll probably recognize it.  (Please excuse the reflection.) --
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In the little description for "Whistler's Mother" next to the painting, there's a a great quote from James MacNeil Whistler.  It turns out that he acknowledged it was probably his best painting, not just his most famous, and he was pleased by it.  The quote was something like.  "When you're going to do a painting about your mummy, it's such a good thing when it's so nice."

​All in all a good day.

And it's rare when the elves taking care of the homestead ever get jealous, but they did today.  In large part, though, that's because they really love pumpernickel.

Big congrats to my cousin Diana Leviton Gondek, who was commissioned to do a painting for the Special Olympics on the occasion of the organization's 50th anniversary. About a month ago, she presented the work to the national chairman of the Special Olympics, Timothy Shriver.  And it's on its way to Washington, D.C.  (I think it's taken a while for them to find enough bubble wrap.)

She's a unique artist, and you can see her work here (and can even contact her from her website. She's very friendly... )  No, this below is not the commissioned work for the Special Olympics.  It's from the homepage of her website.
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I've mentioned one of her brothers here a few times in the past, Peter, most notably for his picture in a hard hat on the field at Wrigley Field during remodeling construction before last season began, which has prompted him to suggest that he's responsible for the Cubs winning the World Series after 108 years.  However, Diana insists that he has the story all wrong.  After all, she notes that she was commissioned in 2015 (the year before the World Series season) to design one of her "Charity Horses" for the Chicago Police Department's 19th district station, which is only four blocks from Wrigley Field.  And after the artwork was presented to the station, which is situated in the Cubs' own precinct, the Cubs on the World Series, which is why she claims that she is the person responsible for the victory.  

(That's her to the left of Ald. Tom Tunney -- who commissioned the work -- at the presentation, substantiating her claim as evidence that the victory horse replaces the cursed goat.)

Another of her stable of three Honor Horses (made on behalf of fallen Chicago police officers) sits in Mayor Rahm Emmanuel's office.

I spent the afternoon at the Art Institute of Chicago, which is really quite remarkable.  Not just for the collection they have (most notably Impressionist paintings, but a massively wide range), but how it's laid out and presented.  The interior design of the place is as nurturing as the art.

(Side note digression:  Terrific as the Art Institute was, mostly the the day was so wonderful because of getting to wear my Cubs cap officially in Chicago – and see Wrigley Field as I passed by on the El.(

One of the (many) things I like about the museum when wandering is when you come across work by an artist that is so out of they different from paintings he or she is best known for.  I posted a lovely, seaside work here last year by Vincent Van Gogh, for example, that looked like it could be a New England view by Andrew Wyeth.

Another one caught my eye then, as well, and I tracked it down again.  It's "The Girl by the Window," painted by Edward Munch, best know for the hugely-well-known, "The Scream" (also known as Chris Dunn's Favorite Painting).  As horrifyingly angst-ridden and vibrant as that one is, this is just as equally genteel, though I do think you can see his style and coloring in it, if you know it's by Munch.  But I don't think you'd guess it without knowing first.

Back from Chicago.

Beyond the 100th birthday party and seeing the world premiere production of War Paint, I also spent about three hours at the Chicago Art Institute, which isn't close to enough.  It's quite a remarkable place -- not just for all the amazing artwork, but also how beautifully and creatively it's presented.

They have a new exhibit there called, "After the Fall."  It's American art after the stock market crashed in 1929 and during the Depression.  Some of the work was familiar -- for instance they moved their painting of "American Gothic" there -- but most were paintings I hadn't see.  What was so good about the exhibit was seeing all of the dispersed work together in one show.

For instance, this is the painting, "Gas," by Edward Hopper, who's best known for his painting, "Nighthawks," (the one with lonesome customers in a diner late at night), which is also in the museum's collection.

I'll try to post a few more from this special exhibit later.  But I thought I'd pass this one along which I've always been intrigued by.

This below has always one of the more interesting paintings there that I like a lot from the museum's regular collection.  I think most people would never guess who painted it.  Maybe they’d guess Andrew Wyeth and a New England seascape.  Or something like that.  I’ll say who it is after you take a look –

That’s by, of all people, Vincent Van Gogh!!  Very peaceful, very pastoral.  No frenzied, swirling lines.  It’s from somewhat early in his career, when he went to Paris and stayed with his brother Theo.  Yes, that’s in Paris.  It’s not even a seascape.  It’s “Terrace and Observation Deck” in Montmartre.  

​More to come...

It's been a while since I've posted photos of my wanderings around the Art Institute of Chicago.  It's quite a remarkable place -- not only for housing some of the most famous artwork in the world, but just so much of its core works.  Besides which, the place is just so beautifully designed and laid out.

Still, it's hard not to focus on the famous works.  There's something bizarre to stroll around, turn a corner and suddenly see looming up before you an iconic work.  Something that we've all seen our entire lives, repeatedly and sometimes even in satirical ways, since they've become so much a part of world culture.  And then there it is, the real thing, right in front you.  And you walk up as close as you can to get an ever better look.

Like this.  "American Gothic" by Grant Wood.  The real one.  The original,

The past couple of years during the holidays, I've embedded several songs from the two of my favorite holiday music albums, Christmas Goes Baroque and its sequel, both arranged and conducted by Peter Breiner.

I just got news that the talented Mr. Breiner has written an opera, Slovenske Tance (Slovak Dances), which will be having its premiere on February 19.  The bad news is that it will be held in Bratislava, Slovakia, so unless you're in the neighborhood or traveling there for the winter, you're out of luck.  Though I'm sure the intention is that it will be performed elsewhere around the world.  For the premiere, though, it will be performed by the Ballet and Orchestra of the Slovak National Theatre.

​For those unable to make it, here's Mr. Breiner at the keyboard with some of his music, which sounds wonderful.  You'll have to imagine on your own the choreography by Natálie Horečná.

If you're interested in more about the ballet and this production --

Trinásť tancov orchestrálnej suity slovenského skladateľa a hudobníka žijúceho v New Yorku Petra Breinera má základ v slovenských ľudových piesňach – ako podobné suity iných skladateľov – Bartóka, Dvořáka, Brahmsa, Beethovena, Kodályho, Borodina atď. Metamorfované mnohými vrstvami Breinerovho hudobného jazyka obsahujú prvky džezu, folklóru a improvizácie. Hudba, inšpirovaná šestnástimi ľudovými piesňami najmä z východoslovenského regiónu, je plná farebných kontrastov, energie, nezvyčajných inštrumentácií a humoru.
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Inscenovanú verziu suity uvádzame v choreografii a réžii mladej slovenskej choreografky, ktorá sa už s úspechom etablovala v Európe – – Natálie Horečnej. Jej súčasná choreografia, ovplyvnená impulzmi zo sveta, obohatí slovenské tance o nový, moderný tanečný rozmer.

                                                                                *  *  *

Okay, thanks to the magic of Google Translate, here's what that above is saying.  You'll have to forgive the computer-generated syntax -- which also changed the choreographer's last name instead to "frantic".  However, I've tried to clean up as much as I could.  But I admit to being stumped with "metamorphic".  I've left that as is, but I'm going to guess it relates to Mr. Breiner's music having different styles --

Thirteen Dance Ensemble Orchestral Suite Slovak by composer and musician living in New York, Peter Breiner is based on Slovak folk songs - like suites from other composers - Bartok, Dvorak, Brahms, Beethoven, Kodaly, Borodina etc.  Metamorphic Breinerová has many layers of musical language containing elements of jazz, folk and improvisation. The music is inspired by sixteen folk songs mainly from Eastern Slovakia, it is full of contrasts of color, energy, humor and unusual instrumentation.

We present a staged version of the Suite, choreographed and directed by young Slovak choreographer who has already successfully established herself in Europe - - Natalie Horečnej. Her contemporary choreography, influenced by impulses from the world, enriches the new Slovak dance, in a modern dance dimension.

I'm in Chicago at the moment, and while the elves watch over the homestead, I'm making my way about town here.  I bought a ticket over the phone for that oft-mentioned and quite wonderful Writers Theatre in Glencoe, where they currently have the Midwest premiere of an intriguing-sounding play, Isaac's Eye, by Lucas Hnath, about a tense and witty battle between Isaac Newton and scientist Robert Hooke.  Rather than their main theater, it's being produced in their original, small location (small as in, literally, the back of a bookstore) and sounds intriguingly staged.

I love the Writers Theatre, which is quite a treasure, often getting rave reviews from the New York Times and Wall Street Journal who make special visits to the tiny company  Jessie Mueller, who won a Tony Award as Best Actress in a musical this year for Beautiful, got her start at the Writers Theatre just a few years ago in 2010,  The quality of the Writers Theatre is consistently great, the organization is terrific.  After making the phone order, though, I was gnawed by something.  It was such a small matter which is why it didn't strike me immediately -- the $5 handling charge on a ticket, which they're not even mailing out, just holding on to at the box office.  Though I'd like to see the play, I'm really only going so that I can have dinner and spend the evening with my aunt, her husband, and my cousin.  Otherwise, I may have evening called back to cancel it, regardless of its smallness, on general principle.

I did call back, though, to at least voice my complaint.  I know it's now fairly-common practice for theaters, I see it in Los Angeles often, though hardly all the time, but just because people accept it unthinkingly doesn't make it right.  If a theater does provide an actual, special service for something, I can maybe see a handling fee -- but they're not.  You're buying their product.  If you went to buy groceries, imagine the store charging you a handling fee to bag them.  When you phone in an order for Chinese food or pizza to pick up, imagine if they charged you for merely calling in.  (They do charge for delivery, but...well, they have to hire someone who is actually delivering it.)  The cost of mailing out a theater ticket is the stamp, envelope and a minute and 15 seconds to address it. A business should accept that sale as the cost of business and suck up the price.  Or charge a buck. At the most, two bucks.  But why on earth would any business charge customers for the simple act of buying your product??  Yes, the arts are generally struggling and need the money -- but that's all the more reason not to have a handling charge and erect that barrier to making the sale.

Anyway, as I said, I did call back and asked to speak with the manager.  The call went something like this.

Me:  "I just called a few minutes ago and bought a ticket. It including a $5 handling fee.  And the more I thought about it, the more bothered I was.  You're not even mailing out the ticket, just holding it at the box office."

Writers Theatre:  “We have the charge because it helps pay for the cost of having the phone line for ticket orders, and to pay for the employee handling the phone order.”

Me:  “Excuse me, but with all due respect that’s ridiculous.  Every business has a phone line.  And you’d be paying for that employee in the box office whether people called or not.  If I buy a pair of shoes, they don’t charge me a handling fee.  If I buy any product, they don’t charge for just buying their product.  You're charging me for the honor of buying the product.”

Writers Theatre:  “We do make it free of charge for people who come directly to the box office.”

Me:  “That's great, but just to be clear, it’s no more difficult selling a ticket over the phone than to sell a ticket at the box office.  As I said, they’re not evening mailing it out, just holding the ticket.  It's the exact same thing.”

Writers Theatre:  “I hear what you’re saying, but this is a standard charge in the theater community.”

Me:  “I like supporting the arts, which need the income, so I’m glad that the money is going to such good groups who need it.  And I understand that it's regularly done by many theaters.  I know that.  And they're all is wrong to do it.  It’s…well, it’s offensive.”

Writers Theatre:  “One of the things about the charge for ordering over the phone or buying tickets online is that it allows us to keep our ticket prices lower.”

Me:  :Honestly, that’s a far better answer than telling me that it’s for phone lines and paying the employee taking the call.  That’s what you should tell people.  That the fee helps keeps costs down, not that it’s ‘for the phone line.’”

Writers Theatre:  Well, thank you, I’m glad you like that reason.

Me:  “Just to be clear, I only said it’s a better reason than the others.  It’s still a bad reason.“

Writers Theatre:  “I understand what you’re saying, and I’ll pass your thoughts along to the executives here.  But it’s just one of a list of reasons that we have.”
, 
Me:  “I’m sure.  And all those reasons would be wrong.”

Writers Theatre:  “I do understand, and appreciate you letting us know your thoughts.  I’ll let others know so that we can make future decisions.”

As you can see, I didn’t get anywhere.  I’d have thought that after spending so much time calling to voice my complaint, and politely, no yelling or name-calling, the manager would have reversed the charge.  Particularly since it wasn't just $5 on my end, but only $5 on theirs.  But no.  And at some point, though, you have to accept a losing battle, so I said goodbye…

Yes, it is a fairly common fee these days (though not standard), and my comments here refer to all such places, not just the Writers Theatre, which in almost all other ways is tremendous, but it’s still wrong.  And it's offensive as a concept, bordering on a scam -- because they're charging (most especially as in this case) for not providing any special added benefit, but just a fee to sell you their product, while positioning it as a "service."  And the evidence this is totally useless, bordering on scam is that the best reason they can come up with to defend it is -- "We need the fee to pay for a phone line."  You know if they had an actual, really valid reason they would have said it, first thing, not offered mumbo-jumbo.

(By the way, as for the "best" of their bad reasons, that it supposedly helps keep the cost of tickets down -- the reality is that in practice it really doesn't.  I suspect that far, far more people buy their individual tickets over the phone and online, rather than walking up to the box-office where there's no "handling fee," so the "benefits" of lower prices are almost non-existent)

All this has always bothered me enough that there actually have been a few times when the fee for other events (not the Writers Theatre) was so egregious -- often 20% of the ticket cost, just for buying the ticket! -- that I cancelled the phone order on general principle.  Sometimes I did still buy the ticket but went to the box office instead.  But I have just ignored a few events completely since they were ones I was only moderately interested in, and the fee was offensive enough to make it not worth buying.  Yes, it's a small part of the overall cost, but a part that's wrong and pointless and just jacking up the price, and sometimes "on general principle" does kick in.

Theaters are selling tickets to their shows.  Whatever way they sell their tickets is up to them,  But it's still "selling their tickets."  And charging a customer for the right to buy your product is ridiculous.  And wrong.  Whatever "reasons" you come up with.  Mailing out a ticket is not a "service' any more than the time, effort and cost of bagging up groceries or gift-wrapping a book. It's the cost of doing business and making a sale.  And to suggest otherwise -- especially to the point of trying to explain it's for having a phone line -- is not only offensive, but (as I've noted) on the good side of scam.

And besides, selling tickets over the phone and especially online is as much a service for the theater as for the patrons.  In fact it's probably a far greater service to the theater.  Online selling lets the box-office handle orders at its leisure whenever most convenient, and is much faster, eliminating long, time-consuming conversations about dates and availabilities and seat location.  And most importantly, both services bring in money immediately, and make the sale before a customer has a chance to change his or her mind.  No waiting and hoping until a potential customer can make it to the box office.  And they charge you for what benefits them??  Seriously...?

(Of course, even if they were offering a service to make it easier for customers to buy their product -- isn't that what every business should be doing All The Time?!!! )

As I said, if an arts organization which does struggle for money wants to cover the actual cost of a stamp and envelope, fine, I can grasp that.  I think it's pennywise and pound foolish, but I get it.  And if they do provide some actual, special service, fine, too.  And if a third-party company is charging a fee for online orders because the theater isn't able to -- I get that, too, since selling tickets is their product, and the fee is their only source of income, much as I think they often vastly overcharge.  But for a theater itself (which you'd think would be thrilled to get the money direct and immediate rather than go through a third-party) to try to make a profit on merely selling the ticket?  To charge for actually just selling you their product?  Indeed most especially when they just sell the ticket and simply hold it at the box office. Sorry, that's just wrong.

Yes, I know the amount charged to an individual is small compared to what a theater can accumulate from all such fees, which ultimately helps the organization more than it negatively impacts the individual. But then, that's true for most scams -- even the ones that are borderline and small.  And how they count on getting away with it.

It's been a while since I've posted one of these, but here is another in our series of Great Paintings from the Art Institute of Chicago that I take credit for photographing -- because, after all, we know that that is really the hard part.

This is "The Guitarist" by Pablo Picasso.  

As photographed by Robert J. Elisberg.