When I’m pulling around slow it actually feels like I’m on water, which I am, of course – these streets are always wet this time of year. More than that, the suspension and the springy seats in these old cars provide a certain feeling of buoyancy. This classic barely fits in the garage, and is too big for the ride share triple parking on the streets now, but there is a certain majesty to its long, slow turns onto Walton Place. Drifting in under the moon and neon mix of light, top open to the elements; the lake is just a block away but it feels like we are already on it.

–Danny Grosso

I know it’s cold and raining, but I’m already out and could use a nightcap and, really, what bad could happen…?

Part of the evolving exhibition at 192 East Walton.

–Danny Grosso

“Sir, try this one, it’s a little soothing.”

**********

“…Yeas, yeas, I know my dear, but let’s drop it for a mo’ and forget our troubles in these bottles…”.

**********

“Forget? Forget?!!! You gotta be kidding me! There is war in Europe, Insurrection on the home front, and structural inequality everywhere, and I mean, the bombing will stop and justice will prevail, but if you think I’m gonna forget about the lipstick on your collar, mister you are sadly mistaken and oh my god this wine is good….”.

–Danny Grosso

The time before a restaurant opens is sublime, quiet and anticipatory, full of hope, and surpassed only by the frenzied euphoria an hour later. There is music to the clink of glasses, clank of silverware, pop of cork, and bassline murmur of conversation. There is rhythm to the dash of the servers, the loll of the diners, the sinuous stretch of the one, you know her, that always seems to be falling out of her dress in the middle of a room. The impromptu composition of all of this is our jazz, our evening song. Time to work, time to dance. The feeling begins, and then overwhelms. Give me a kiss and let’s do this again tomorrow night…

–Danny Grosso

Counter-clockwise from lower left:

“Do you really think the authoritarian expansionism will gain a foothold once civilians become war casualties”

**********

Silently, to herself: “Hmmm… I know these are really dangerous times but this conversation is so much better than the ‘What in the hell is she wearing’ talk that I seemed perpetually dragged into before 2016.”

**********

“Of course not – not for any extended length of time. Tyrants always lose their grips on power when opposed by a reasonable resistance movement. But it doesn’t take long to destabilize and demoralize institutions. Speaking of which, Isn’t it grand to have this place back open and full of drinkers and diners?”

**********

“Waitress – another round on your way back, please, but no Russian Vodka this time. I’m hoppin’ mad!

**********

All three singers, harmonizing: “Don’t turn around, woo hoo hoo… Der Kommissar’s in town, woo hoo hoo… You’re in his eye and you’ll know why, the more you live the faster you will die…”

**********

Silently, to herself: “I’m soo worried for may family, they are all in Kiev…”

–Danny Grosso

Counter-clockwise, from bottom left;

“I can’t believe it’s been two years since we’ve been out like this!”

**********

“Really? This one behind you has been like a barstool in here. She’s paid for enough rapid tests to secure the pharmaceutical company’s pension fund.”

**********

Silently, to herself: “Oh, my God, I’m still so worried.”

**********

“Hey Frankie! You’re lightin’ up the place!”

**********

“This could be the start of something big, sooooo, dance away the heartache, dance away the tears…”.

**********

“Can this finally be it, the start of the new roaring twenties?”

–Danny Grosso

Part of the installation at 192 East Walton.

Part of the installation at 192 East Walton Street, Chicago.

Part of the installation at 192 East Walton Street, Chicago.

Taxi cabs, wet pavement, and neon. Perfect Christmas season in the city.

Peace to all, along with hopes for a better tomorrow.

-Danny Grosso