Doors Open Milwaukee ’21

Posted on September 26, 2021 by admin

Warmish weekend, good for walking around. We did that in Milwaukee yesterday, because the Doors Open Milwaukee event has returned after last year’s cancellation. We drove up in mid-morning and returned not too long after dark, as we did in 2019 and 2018 and 2017. One difference this year was that a few — not all — places required a mask.

Another wrinkle this time is that we took the dog. Leaving her at home alone for more than a few hours is just asking for a mess to clean up upon return. So that meant for most of the places we went, we took turns, as one of us stayed with the dog, either in the car or walking her around.

First we went to the Bay View neighborhood south of downtown, a place that got its start as a 19th-century company town. In our time it seems pretty lively. There we sought out St. Lucas Evangelical Lutheran Church and St. Augustine of Hippo Catholic Church, both late 19th-century/early 20th-century edifices themselves, distinctly built of cream brick.

In the Burnham Park neighborhood of Milwaukee, southwest of downtown, you can find the Burnham Block. In fact, an organization called Frank Lloyd Wright’s Burnham Block, which is part of Wisconsin’s Frank Lloyd Wright Trail, very much wants you to come see the six small houses on that block, designed by The Genius.

Who are we to resist the call of FLW? We went there next. So did a fair number of people late that morning, more than at any other place we saw yesterday. This was part of the line to get in.

Taking turns looking at FLW’s work took up a fair amount of time. Afterward we repaired to a park for a drive-through-obtained lunch. Then we went to Forest Home Cemetery. Usually, I can’t persuade Yuriko to visit cemeteries, but the Doors Open feature was its chapel, which she was willing to visit.

Then, to my complete surprise, she wanted to walk the dog through the cemetery as I stopped here and there among its many stones and funerary art. Forest Home is an historic rural cemetery movement cemetery, as fine an example as I’ve seen anywhere.

We had time enough after the cemetery for two more churches in East Town — or maybe the Lower East Side, hard to tell — St. Paul’s Episcopal Church and St. Rita’s Catholic Church.

By the time we’d finished those, it was 5 pm and Doors Open was done for the day. But I didn’t quite want to head home. I wanted to find a place to see the Milwaukee skyline, something I’d never done in all the years I’ve been coming to that city.

It didn’t take long.

That’s the view from Veterans Park on Lake Michigan, and it illustrates one of the advantages of the Milwaukee MSA (pop. 1.57 million) compared with the Chicago MSA (pop. 9.6 million).

The logistics of getting to that view of Milwaukee were exactly this: drive to Veterans Park, park on the road for free, and walk about two minutes. To reach a similar vantage to see the vastly larger Chicago skyline, I shouldn’t have to point out, is much more complicated, and free doesn’t enter into it.

Veterans Park in Milwaukee also has some nice amenities, such as a place called Kites.

At Kites, you can buy kites, as well as snacks. We got some nachos.

People were out flying kites. The wind was up but it wasn’t too cold, so it was a good afternoon for it. If we’d gotten there earlier, we might have as well.

We walked the dog again, this time a little ways along the lake.

It was a good afternoon for that, too.

The Midsummer Carnival Shaft

Posted on October 9, 2019 by admin

Time for an autumn break. Back to posting around October 20, if all goes according to plan.

Last week in Milwaukee, I happened across an oddity that wasn’t part of the Doors Open event, but rather something in the median of Wisconsin Ave. near Calvary Presbyterian.

A tall, freestanding Corinthian column with a sphere on top. Other statues in the median, not pictured here, include ones honoring Union soldiers, Spanish-American veterans and George Washington. So this column must honor something along those lines, right?

Hard to tell just looking at it. A plaque on the plinth is enigmatic: Presented to the City of Milwaukee by the Carnival Association, June 26, 1900.

Who? Why? Later, I found an article about the Court of Honor, as the median is called. “The Court of Honor is a series of statues, most honoring military figures, that line the median strip in West Wisconsin Avenue between 9th and 10th Streets,” Bobby Tanzilo wrote in On Milwaukee.

“The collection of sculpture became known as the Court of Honor because it was the site of the annual crowning of the Rex (or king) of the Milwaukee Midsummer Carnival Festival, which began in 1898 to celebrate the 50th anniversary of Wisconsin’s birth as a state.

“The carnival only endured for four years, but it must have been a fun event, because it drew visitors from across the state… Each year, for the carnival, the association that organized the week-long event would build temporary classical wood and plaster colonnades. Two years in, it commissioned architect Alfred Clas to design a Corinthian column – the Midsummer Carnival Shaft – that would be constructed of Bedford limestone to serve as a permanent centerpiece for the event.”

The Midsummer Carnival Shaft thus stands to this day, silently honoring an event that probably 99.44% of Milwaukeeans could not identify. Just another example of something that can make the urban texture of a city interesting — a forgotten oddity in plain sight.

Two Milwaukee Courthouses of Imposing Size and Grandeur

Posted on October 3, 2019 by admin

Last year during Doors Open Milwaukee, we passed by the Milwaukee County Courthouse. I don’t think it was participating, but anyway we didn’t go in. Naturally, this year it’s still an imposing neo-classical edifice by McKim, Mead, and White, finished in 1931.

The building was open and we went in. But not at the owl entrance, whose single word Justice, if you’re in a cynical mood, might fall under the category of promises, promises.
Some of the courthouse’s arched hallways were well lit.
Others, not so much.
One well-appointed courtroom, that of Judge Someone-or-Other, was open for inspection.
Mostly the halls and courtroom exuded a sense of serious business, which is appropriate. Don’t want any goofballs on the bench. But there was at least one oddity in the otherwise staid atmosphere of the courthouse halls: a weight and horoscope machine. What?
Further to the east on Wisconsin Ave. — there’s that street again — is the Federal Building & U.S. Courthouse for the Eastern District of Wisconsin. They say it’s a grand old edifice, completed in the 1890s to house not only federal courts, but also the main post office and the customs service. I’m sure it must be, but the exterior is a little hard to see in 2019 during restoration.
Some of the granite facade is visible.
A design overseen by Willoughby J. Edbrooke, whose Wiki page tell us: “[He] remained faithful to a Richardsonian Romanesque style into the era of Beaux-Arts architecture in the United States.” A man who knew what he liked and stuck with it.

The vaulting atrium impresses mightily, but it’s hard to capture its image with a simple camera. Looking up, the view is through a steel structure which I assume is for support in some way.
These are views from the fourth floor. Originally the atrium roof was open, in the way pre-air conditioning buildings often were.
We saw two courtrooms, including the Ceremonial Courtroom and its exceptional woodwork.
Called “ceremonial” because besides being a workaday federal courtroom, it’s also where new judges and new U.S. citizens tend to be sworn in.

An Eastern Church With Pews, A Western Church Without

Posted on October 2, 2019 by admin

Buildings, including churches, defy expectations at times. Often enough that expectations really shouldn’t be expected, but we do that anyway.

Take St. George Melkite Greek Catholic Church, which we visited on Saturday as part of Doors Open Milwaukee. It was built in 1917.
Though the Melkites are in communion with Rome, I was expecting an Eastern-style church inside. Mostly, it is, with icons and an iconostasis and Christ on the ceiling. But it also includes pews.
One of the congregation was on hand to tell us about the church, and his idea was that the pews were a bit of syncretism on the part of the Lebanese and Syrian founding families of the church, or maybe the architect, one Erhard Brielmaier. Also, the church didn’t have icons in its early days, those being added in more recent decades, which might explain why their language is English.
Christ on the ceiling is a particular admirable work.
I was astonished to learn that it isn’t a painting, which it very much looks like, but a printed image made using a highly sophisticated machine and fixed in place.

Back on Wisconsin Ave. (for St. George is a few blocks to the north), we visited one more church on Saturday: Calvary Presbyterian, a soaring Victorian Gothic structure dating from the early 1870s, designed by architects Koch & Hess.

That was a long time before the highway, unfortunately next to the church, was built.
Nickname: the Big Red Church.
Inside, I was surprised again.
“Not what you expected, is it?” said one of the congregation. He explained that with pews, the church would be used once a week for a few hours — unsustainable for a small membership. Twenty years ago, they decided to remove the pews. When the congregation meets now, it’s on temporary chairs under a multi-petal canopy. Other groups also meet for other purposes in the now-open space, making the place an active one.

The Tripoli Shrine Temple

Posted on October 1, 2019 by admin

Last night at around 11, or just an hour before September ended, I sat on my deck outside in short sleeves, in comfort. Warm winds blew. The day had been summer-like, in the mid-80s at least, and October 1 has been roughly the same. Rain is coming tonight, though, and so are cooler temps.

I don’t have any interest in becoming a Shriner, but I have to like a fraternal organization whose members wear fezzes and meet in gilded, onion-domed buildings inspired by the 19th-century popular vogue for Orientalism. I’ve seen Shriners in their little cars buzzing along parade routes, and once upon a time I went to a Shrine Circus in a temple that the Shriners later sold, and which has been sold again.

In Milwaukee, on Wisconsin Ave., the Shriners built themselves an exceptional edifice, the Tripoli Shrine Temple, taking inspiration from the Taj Mahal.
No example of Moorish Revival is complete without stone camels, I think. Especially considering that the Shriners originally called themselves the Ancient Arabic Order of the Nobles of the Mystic Shrine. Two camels are perched beside the front entrance steps.

The statue to the right of Shriner and child is a nod to the Shriners Hospitals for Children, of which there are 22 in North America (though none in Milwaukee).
The temple, designed by Clas & Shepard of Milwaukee and completed in 1928, is every bit as ornate inside as out.
Second floor.
Looking up.
There was no shortage of Shriners around, helping show off the place.
This one gave a short talk about the building. He had interesting things to say, especially about the countless thousands of tiles on the floors and wall. Literally countless, since no one kept count or has made a count. He said that during the interior construction of the temple in the late ’20s, a family of four skilled in tilework lived in the temple, staying until they were done a few years later.

Three Wisconsin Avenue Lutheran Churches & One Beer Palace

Posted on September 30, 2019 by admin

We kicked off our time on Wisconsin Ave. in Milwaukee on Saturday at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, which has been on this site since 1917, though the congregation has been around since 1841, before there was a Milwaukee or even a state of Wisconsin.
George Bowman Ferry designed the structure. It must have been one of his last, since he died in 1918. In partnership with another Milwaukee architect, Alfred C. Clas, he’s better known for doing the Pabst Mansion, which isn’t far to the east of St. Paul’s. Just a few blocks from St. Paul’s — 2812 W. Wisconsin vs. 3022 W. Wisconsin — is another Lutheran congregation, which meets at Our Savior’s Lutheran Church. I gazed at the structure for a while before I noticed the solar panels. It probably took so long because that’s still an unexpected feature in ecclesiastical architecture. Our Saviors Lutheran Church, Milwaukee

Why so close to another Lutheran church? I don’t have a definite answer. They both seem to be part of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America, but that’s a fairly recent combination, so perhaps they were different kinds of Lutherans in the early days. Also possible: Our Savior’s was founded by Norwegians, who maybe didn’t want to share a church with Germans or others in the 19th century.

The church is tall and the interior walls are spare.A reflection of its midcentury design, I believe, since the building was completed only in 1954 for a much older congregation. A detail I find interesting from the church web site, after mentioning the 1951 groundbreaking and 1952 cornerstone laying: “Work slowed in 1951-1953 due to the steel shortage caused by the Korean conflict.”

Also: “The original architect, H.C. Haeuser, passed away in 1951 before work on the church could begin. The firm of Grassold and Johnson was hired to replace him and that firm finalized the design.”

The walls may be mostly plain, but the stained glass isn’t.
“The stained glass windows were designed by Karl Friedlemeier, a native of Munich, Germany and manufactured by Gavin Glass and Mirror Company of Milwaukee from imported antique glass,” the church says. “Upper windows on the west wall depict Old Testament stories; New Testament stories are shown on the upper east walls.”

To east of these two Lutheran churches, again not far (1905 W. Wisconsin Ave.), is another church of that denomination, Reedemer Lutheran Church. It too is ELCA.
A fine brick Gothic structure completed in 1915, designed by William Schuchardt, who worked at Ferry & Clas early in this career.
While on the way to Reedemer, we passed by the Pabst Mansion.
Looks as palatial as it did in 2010. No reason it shouldn’t. It wasn’t part of Doors Open and so not open at no charge for the weekend. We walked by.

Across the street, an event called Beer Baron’s Bash was going on in the mansion’s parking lot, featuring food trucks and booths serving beer. Interesting, but not what we had come for either, so we walked by that too.

Milwaukee Doors Open ’19

Posted on September 29, 2019 by admin

Large amounts of rain fell on northern Illinois and southern Wisconsin on Friday, and more again on Sunday morning. In between, Saturday turned out to be a brilliant early fall day, clear and cool but not cold, and with touches of brown and gold on the still-green trees.

A good day to go to the latest Milwaukee Doors Open, driving up in mid-morning and returning just after dark.

This year — see 2017 and 2018 — we spent most of our time along or near Wisconsin Ave., a major east-west thoroughfare from the edge of Lake Michigan, just in front of the Milwaukee Art Museum, to near the Milwaukee County Zoo in the western reaches of the county.

At 2812 W. Wisconsin Ave. is St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, our first stop along the avenue, west of downtown and not too far from Marquette University. A few blocks to the west of that church is a vastly ornate Moorish Revival structure, the Tripoli Shrine Temple. “Is this a mosque?” Yuriko asked. No. “A church?” Well, no. It’s the Shriners.

Next to the temple — on an adjoining lot — is Our Savior’s Lutheran Church. From there, we headed a bit to the north, off Wisconsin Ave. but not far, to see the splendid Gilded Age Schuster Mansion, now a bed and breakfast.

Returning to Wisconsin Ave., we visited the Ambassador Hotel, whose handsome lobby is as Deco a design as any I’ve ever seen, and then went to the third and fourth (but not last) churches of the day: Redeemer Lutheran Church and, after lunch at a Malaysian Chinese storefront on the avenue, St. George Melkite Greek Catholic Church.

The end of the day found us closer to downtown Milwaukee, where we visited one more church on Wisconsin Ave., Calvary Presbyterian, with its surprising interior, and then we saw the inside of two massive edifices of the state: the Milwaukee County Courthouse and the Federal Building and U.S. Courthouse, the latter also on Wisconsin Ave.

The only Milwaukee building we visited this year not on or near Wisconsin Ave. was about five miles to the south, and the first place we saw in the morning, because it isn’t far from I-94, the highway into Milwaukee from the south.

Namely, Lake Tower.
Also called the Lake Water Tower, or the Anderson Municipal Building. It goes back to the Federal Works Agency, completed with a worn plaque just inside the entrance, dated 1938-39.
Don’t see Federal Works Agency plaques too often, but I’ve run across them occasionally.

At the time, this part of Milwaukee was an independent municipality: the Town of Lake. In fact, Lake, Wisconsin lasted from 1838 to 1954, when Milwaukee was able to annex it. In the late 1930s, the Town of Lake had municipal offices on the lower floors, and a million-gallon tank of water up top.

There are still municipal offices in the building, albeit Milwaukee’s, but the water tank has been empty for nearly 40 years, its function made unnecessary by new facilities, including the water reclamation plant in the vicinity, whose distinct odor pervaded the area around the tower. Milwaukee Doors Open visitors can go to the fourth floor of the tower, through a heavy door and into the dry bottom of the tank, with a view of the metalwork and convex roof (or is it concave? never can remember) and other features above (see these pictures).

The place had a nice echo. I asked the person on duty at the site — a tedious assignment, up there in the tank — whether small acoustic concerts were ever held there. No, afraid not. Something about the ADA, but I think it’s really a lack of municipal imagination.

The American Geographical Society Library (Or Wow, Look at All the Globes!)

Posted on September 27, 2018 by admin

At the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee’s Golda Meir Library, which is the school’s main library, it isn’t hard to find a bust of the fourth Prime Minister of Israel. She was an alumna of the university’s predecessor institution, Milwaukee State Normal School.
Behind the bust is a mounted Milwaukee Sentinel article, dated August 27, 1987, about the sculptor, Maurice Ferstadt, whom I’ll give credit for not trying to idealize the prime minister’s face. On the morning of February 19 of that year, Ferstadt — who was 75 –finished the sculpture. That evening, he died of an aneurysm.

Part of the library participated in Milwaukee Doors Open last weekend. Special Collections is on the fourth floor. We spent some time there, looking at some of the old and rare books on display. Interesting.

Then we went to the third floor, which is home to the American Geographical Society Library.

The closer I got, the more excited I felt. That’s not a verb I use much in my well-established middle age. But as soon as I entered the library, that rare feeling came over me. This is best thing ever!

You know, that kid on Christmas morning feeling. The giddiness passed, of course, but I remained vastly impressed by the collection all the same.

According to the library’s web site, it “contains over 1.3 million items supporting instruction, research and learning. The collection is global in scope — ranging from the 15th century to present — and includes maps, atlases, books, periodicals, photographic and film media, and geospatial data.”

And I have to add, globes. Look at all the globes! That’s what we looked at most, though there were some fine maps on exhibit too. Old globes, new ones, globes in various languages, small orbs, much larger ones, thematic globes, and globes of the Earth, Moon, the Skies and probably Mars and some other planets that I missed.

What a beaut: a geological globe.

Here’s a relief globe, made in Italy ca. 1950.
I could have looked at and taken pictures of globes all day. Here’s one more. The granddaddy of all the globes in the collection.
The Library of Congress says, “In 1942 in the midst of World War II, U.S. Army Chief of Staff Gen. George C. Marshall sent a large globe to both President Franklin Roosevelt and Prime Minister Winston Churchill as Christmas gifts from the U.S. Army. The U.S. Office of Strategic Services had compiled the maps, and the Weber Costello Co. constructed the globes. It is reported that 12 to 15 of these globes were produced between 1942 and 1955.

“The globe measures 50 inches (127 centimeters) in diameter, 13 feet in circumference, and reportedly weighs 750 pounds. It consists of two interlocking halves made of bent bands of wood over which the printed paper gores are pasted.”

One of the library staff confirmed to me that this indeed was one of those 12 to 15 globes — though not either of those given to Roosevelt or Churchill, since they are at Hyde Park and Chartwell, respectively.

In recent years, the American Geographical Society’s had its globe refurbished. Looks good for its age, I’d say.
As I mentioned, there were maps on display from among the library’s vast collection, laying flat on tables for a convenient look.
There were all kinds of maps, such as one of the rayon acetate (silk-like) escape maps that helped Allied POWs escape during WWII, highway maps, non-English maps, space maps, hobbyist maps, historical trend maps, and comedy maps, such as the MAD Pictorial Map of the United States from 1981, with artwork by the inimitable Sergio Aragonés (who’s still alive).

As fun as that was — and I spent several minutes looking at it, since any Sergio Aragonés work is going to be incredibly detailed — my favorite was a Swiss map: Die Eroberung des Weltraums.

Or rather, a schematic depicting the progress of space exploration as of the publishing date in 1968. Here’s a detail.

Not shown in my detail are the Moon, or Venus and Mars, though spacecraft had voyaged there by ’68. There had been no exploration of the outer planets or Mercury yet, so those weren’t depicted at all. What a remarkable lot of information the artist, whose name I don’t have, was able to pack into the image.

Turner Hall, Milwaukee

Posted on September 26, 2018 by admin

From the Encyclopedia of 1848 Revolutions, part of an article on the German Turnverein: “Founded amid the nationalist enthusiasms of the War of Liberation, the German gymnastic movement, or Turnverein, had fundamentally changed by the time of the 1848 revolutions in the German lands.”

Ah, a branch of the physical culture movement. Maybe the main branch; I’m no expert. But I do blame the physical culture movement for the indignities of PE in 20th-century America.

To continue from the encyclopedia: “Although Friedrich Ludwig Jahn, the gymnasium instructor who had originated the idea of nationalist gymnastics in Berlin in 1811, was still venerated in the organization, his anti-Semitism, hatred of the French, and loyalty to the Hohenzollern dynasty left him out of step with an organization committed to national unification and political liberalism…

“These gymnastic clubs were often closely aligned with workers’ organizations and democratic clubs with whom they shared a desire for reform and a rejection of traditional hierarchies…

“In contrast to the organization Jahn had founded, almost one-half of the membership in the 1840s were non-gymnasts, the so-called ‘Friends of Turnen,’ and because of this, the new clubs engaged in more non-gymnastic activities, such as funding libraries and reading rooms, and sponsoring lectures, often of a politically liberal nature.

“Given the radicalization of the movement in the 1840s, it is not surprising that the German gymnasts were directly involved in the 1848 revolutions…

“The aftermath of the 1848 revolutions devastated the German gymnastic movement. Clubs were disbanded, property confiscated and leaders lost to jail or exile.”

One place exiled Turners went was Milwaukee. By 1882, they had completed Turner Hall, which stands to this day on 4th Street in downtown Milwaukee. Remarkably, the Milwaukee Turners are still around, and for a paltry $35, anyone can join. No German language skills or even gymnastic aptitude seem necessary.

Our Turner principles are as follows [their web site says]:
Liberty, against all oppression;
Tolerance, against all fanaticism;
Reason, against all superstition;
Justice, against all exploitation!

The hall was open as part of Milwaukee Open Doors, so we visited.
That’s not the building’s best side, which was in the shadow when we visited. Here’s a good picture of the front.

The building’s a fine work by Henry Koch, himself a German immigrant who also did Milwaukee City Hall. Built of good-looking Creme City brick, which is now going to be the subject of another digression.

“Like the road to Oz, much of Milwaukee is made of yellow brick – Cream City brick, to be precise. But how, exactly, did it end up here? And why is it such a source of local pride?” asks Milwaukee magazine.

“Clay found along Milwaukee’s river banks was naturally high in magnesia and lime, giving the brick its unique color and durability, according to Andrew Charles Stern, author of Cream City: The Brick That Made Milwaukee Famous.

“Its popularity extended well beyond Wauwatosa. Local manufacturers shipped Cream City bricks to clients around the United States and as far away as Europe, until production ceased in the 1920s, when the clay supply was depleted and builders began to favor stone and marble…”

Talk about enjoying a local sight. A building built for Milwaukee Turners from a material created locally.

Inside, we joined a tour group and saw the restaurant space, which I believe was a beer hall once upon a time. After all, they might have been physical culture enthusiasts, but they were also Germans.

Murals dating back to the early days of the Milwaukee Turners grace the walls in that part of the building. Such as one featuring Turnvater Jahn and assorted allegories.
The aforementioned Friedrich Ludwig Jahn (1778-1852), that is, the father of gymnastics, and possibly a godfather of National Socialism, though that point is disputed, and in any case the NSDAP never had much traction in Milwaukee.

A detail from another Turner Hall mural whose subject is the founding of Milwaukee.

Pictured are Solomon Juneau and a Native American. Juneau founded the city in the early 1800s.

I feel another digression coming on. From the forward of Solomon Juneau, A Biography, by Isabella Fox, published in 1916:

The name of Solomon Juneau has long been honored, alike for the sterling integrity, the true nobility of the man, and for his generous benefactions in the upbuilding of the city he founded nearly a century ago, near the Milwaukee bluff on the shore of Lake Michigan. He was the ideal pioneer — heroic in size and character — generous by nature, just in all his dealings, whether as a fur trader with the red man, or in business transactions with his fellow townsmen, through the trying times when early settlers often required fraternal assistance, and the embryo city in the wilderness was ever the gainer through his benevolence, for selfishness was non-existence in him…

They don’t write ’em like that any more.

The star attraction in the Turner Hall is the ballroom.

The ballroom was damaged by fire at some point, but it’s stabilized enough — including netting covering the ceiling — for public events, such as the wedding that was going to be held there sometime after we visited last Saturday.

Eventually, the room will be restored. Bet it’ll be a marvel.

The Milwaukee Theatre

Posted on September 25, 2018 by admin

On October 14, 1912, former President Theodore Roosevelt took a bullet in the chest at the Gilpatrick Hotel in Milwaukee, but went on to deliver his presidential campaign speech at the Milwaukee Auditorium across the street soon afterward.

“Friends, I shall ask you to be as quiet as possible,” TR said. “I don’t know whether you fully understand that I have just been shot; but it takes more than that to kill a Bull Moose. But fortunately I had my manuscript, so you see I was going to make a long speech, and there is a bullet — there is where the bullet went through — and it probably saved me from it going into my heart.”

In later years, especially during an early 21st-century renovation, the Milwaukee Auditorium evolved into the Milwaukee Theatre, which is officially the Miller High Life Theatre these days, because beer money bought the naming rights recently.
Never mind that. What I want to know is, where is the plaque commemorating TR’s speech?

Maybe there is one, but I didn’t see it. Or why didn’t our tour guide through the theater on Saturday mention this remarkable event? I knew the story of the attempted assassination, but didn’t connect it with the Milwaukee Theatre until today.

In any case, the theater looks like a first-rate venue, seating more than 4,000. The view from the stage.

Here’s the view from the stage when space aliens started kidnapping people standing there, via tractor beams (and how do those work, anyway?).

Or maybe I jiggled the camera during a relatively long exposure.

We toured other parts of the venue as well, including the elegant side halls Kilbourn and Plankinton — named for long-ago donors — with the former decorated by murals depicting Milwaukee history. We also saw the green room.

Where Miller High Life Theatre-themed cupcakes were offered for our refreshment. I have to say that’s something I’d never seen before.
You’d think a light shade of green would be the thing for the green room walls, for tradition’s sake, but no. Then again, I’ve read it isn’t clear that most green rooms ever were really green. Just another phrase origin lost to time.

Next to the theater is the UW–Milwaukee Panther Arena, which seats as many as 12,700. That too was open for the Doors Open Milwaukee event.

These days the arena is home to the Milwaukee Panthers men’s basketball team of the NCAA, as well as the Brewcity Bruisers, a roller derby league based in Milwaukee. For the record, the Bruisers are a member of the Women’s Flat Track Derby Association.

Been There, Seen That

By Dees Stribling

Category Archives: Doors Open Milwaukee