Smoking Bishop (recipe)

Illustration by John Leech

“A merry Christmas, Bob!” said Scrooge, with an earnestness that could not be mistaken, as he clapped him on the back. “A merrier Christmas, Bob, my good fellow, than I have given you, for many a year! I’ll raise your salary, and endeavour to assist your struggling family, and we will discuss your affairs this very afternoon, over a Christmas bowl of smoking bishop, Bob! Make up the fires, and buy another coal-scuttle before you dot another i, Bob Cratchit!”

from “A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens, 1843

Smoking Bishop is a mulled wine, and ever since I bothered to learn that that is what it is, I have offered to make it for holiday gatherings, especially for those related to my work at Great Lakes Theater. This year I will be making it twice, for the staff party, and again for the actor-teachers in the new year.

• Take five oranges and one grapefruit and roast until  browned.
• Jab each of the fruits with cloves, six to eight each, place in a bowl and add two bottles of red wine, along with a quarter pound of sugar.
• Cover and let sit for about a day, in a warm place (I choose the oven).
• Juice the citrus into the wine and strain into a crockpot. Add the port and heat until it is “smoking” and serve.

You can also add spices including small amounts of cinnamon, mace, allspice, ginger, and/or nutmeg, to taste, though I have found satisfaction without them.

Ten Good Moments in 2024

Way back in 2016, to close out a difficult year, I reflected upon ten good moments, to accentuate the positive. This year I feel no less defeated by current events, the year has provided me with great happiness, and I would again like to share a few of those (in chronological order). 

1. Jon Batiste plays the Cleveland Museum of Art. The most Cleveland thing ever, Batiste was leading his band through the house, playing “When the Saints Go Marching In” on his melodica. The crowd was on our feet, and when he got to our row, Batiste reached past me to shake hands with Cleveland Mayor Justin Bibb, who had been seated next to my wife. It must be mentioned, earlier that evening the Mayor had complimented my wife’s boots.

2. Transitive Property. Our children are artists. Who knew? College visits are often scheduled to coincide with a recital, gig, gallery opening or performance event. Our elder child had several this year, including an interdisciplinary semi-improvised dance and music performance, as well as shows in Nelsonville, at Loganberry Books, as well as on campus at Ohio University.

3. The Total Eclipse of the Sun. When my wife got me (us) opening day tickets to see the Guardians last Christmas, I thought — oh, no. Opening Day is usually cold and rainy, often it snows. Well, not only was the weather perfect on April 8, 2024, but the game was bumped a few hours to experience a total eclipse.

4. Queen Mary 2. For the moment, we luxuriate. Last year we took a train to the Southwest, a journey we had ruminated upon for some time. It’s like a pre-retirement age (as though we will ever retire) doing those things we would spend time talking about late into the evening but never had the time to do, until now. And so we took a transatlantic cruise. Friends made references to the Titanic, but I reminded them that that was White Star cruiser, and that the QM2 is a Cunard ship. They rescued the survivors of Titanic.

Seven days and nights, lying in, having coffee in our bathrobes and reading while sitting out on our private balcony overlooking the vast, unbroken sea. In short order we discovered those corners we did (and did not) wish to while away the hours: the library, the Chart Room cocktail bar, The Golden Lion Pub, high tea at three and even karaoke. Yes, I will karaoke when I am leagues from anyone I know.

It was a lovely time to be together alone.

5. Twenty-Fifth Anniversary. Shortly after returning from England, we held an open house to celebrate our anniversary with our nearest and dearest. And we have met a wide variety of wonderful people over the years. Remarkable, too, are those who were not present, those who have died or with whom we have parted or those who have simply vanished from our lives. Twenty-five years is a long time, our wedding was one of the last things we did in the 1900s. Folks my age can get a little freaked out when the kids refer to the 1990s as “the late 1900s” but when you think about it, that really was a different century.

6. Cleveland Guardians. Before the name change, we might have taken in a game each summer, but since they became the Guardians, we’ve gone a little nuts about this team. Yes, we were there on opening day, and maybe a dozen more times besides. Though we couldn’t best the Yankees, the Guards went down proudly … which is more than we can say for, you know, the Yankees. We will miss you, Gimé! Godspeed!

7. Kamala Harris. Put simply, the problem is not that not enough people voted for her. The problem is that far too many people voted for him. That is a sickness which must be remedied, and it will go hard. But Vice President Harris ran a flawless, three month campaign that was full of hope and promise and joy. And the people chose Trump. That’s on the people.

8. Drennon Davis is a comedian and voice actor who became an internet phenom during the Quarantine when he began producing clips of his housebound interactions with his talking cats. We love this guy, and went to see him at the Cat Fancier Association International Cat Show and Exposition at the I-X Center. Don’t know if you’ve ever been, it’s equal parts cat judging competitions, cat swag goes market and cat-themed entertainers, all fairing at the same time. Davis did a presentation that included a “live” video chat with Newt, Toad, Frog and Doug, and we got to say hello and have a lovely picture taken. Business!

9. Cincinnati. The boy is enrolled at the conservatory of music at the University of Cincinnati. He is majoring in jazz, he plays the drums. I so wish my father could see this. A few times a year we attend his end-of-semester gigs at Caffè Vivace. Cincinnati was entirely alien to me before this turn of events. In school we made a couple trips, to see concerts, even to a cattle call for a film. In the past two years we have become familiar with a few neighborhoods and my wife even found a second home at the Gaslight Bed and Breakfast. Hi, Maria!

10. A Christmas Carol. Charles Dickens’ tale describing the reclamation of Ebenezer Scrooge is so universal and elegantly told that it continues to stand up to generations of satire and derision. Dealing as it does with an elderly man reflecting upon his life choices, I cannot help but personally feel it becomes more terrorist as one gets older. One youthful heartbreak led to a lifetime of emotional insecurity and cynicism? Why yes, that actually happens, but we can choose to do better.

As should be obvious, I love the season, and having the opportunity to be immersed in the trappings and tropes of the most iconic of holiday stories, eight times a week (nine as we close the run) have only intensified these feelings.

This winter will be hard, the new year is uncertain. We'll have to muddle through somehow.

A Christmas Carol (2024)

James Alexander Rankin as Bob Cratchit
"A Christmas Carol"
(Great Lakes Theater, 2024)
Costume design by James Scott
Scenic Design by John Ezell
& Gene Emerson Friedman
Photo by Roger Mastroianni

Great Lakes Theater first produced A Christmas Carol in 1989. Then-Artistic Director Gerald Freedman wrote an adaptation that cleaves neatly to the original work. As a framing device, the Cleaveland family (the name is never spoken, you can find it in your program) gather together on Christmas Eve to read Charles Dickens’ classic work, a simple and elegant entry to the story.

Recently, I discovered my ticket for the first time I saw the show, surprised to see it was from that first year. Dated December 22, 1989, it may even have been closing night. I was twenty-one, home for the holidays during my fourth year at college. At the time I was most impressed by the Ghost of Christmas Present, performed by Kevin McCarty. Kevin was completing his MFA in Acting at Ohio University just as I was an incoming freshman. A big man with a stern brown and a deep and resonant voice, his ghost was full of life and joy but also quite intimidating.

Since that time, the Great Lakes production has grown into a true institution. I cannot imagine anyone intending this or any regional theater production to continue for five years, let alone thirty-six and counting, and I truly believe the city would be poorer with its absence. Part of that is due to Mr. Dickens, but also Mr. Freedman and the entire original creative team.

Because of the sincerity of the framing device – which includes the youngest of the Cleavelands wordlessly witnessing the events of the story, casting members of his household as the characters – this adaptation has avoided becoming dated. It is commonplace for us to ironically wink at the audience because, you know, it’s A Christmas Carol, after all. But it’s played straight, and so it stands, not stuck in the 1980s or 90s, but entirely Victorian in style and language.

Kevin McCarty as the Ghost of Christmas Present
(Great Lakes Theater, 1996)
Photo by Roger Mastroianni

Credit is due to this adaptation embracing Dickens’ message of social justice and economic disparity, including details from the novel which are often glossed over. I am especially touched by the scene when Christmas Present takes Scrooge around the globe, and even beneath the earth, to see miners, a lighthouse keeper, and a ships’ captain out to sea. The breadth of humanity and the wideness of the world is sublimely depicted here through traditional stage tricks of light and darkness and fog. The hand-tooled appearance of the set and effects contributes greatly to the sweetness and enduring popularity of this production.

From 1982 to 2008, Great Lakes produced exclusively in the Ohio (now Mimi Ohio) Theatre. Relocating the majority of their work to the Hanna Theatre sixteen seasons ago, A Christmas Carol remains in the Mimi Ohio, the theater for which it was designed. Retrofitting the show to the intimate Hanna would for all intents and purposes mean redesigning the entire production, which would make it something entirely different, and not necessarily for the better. In the stately Ohio the show is like a handsome and antique holiday picture postcard.

I started bringing my own, living children to see A Christmas Carol when each turned four years old. But this is a ghost story, and there are some remarkable frights along the way. Marley’s entrance is startling (it includes a dramatic reminder of from where he is arriving) which often produces squeaks and squeals from youthful audience members. I stayed particularly attentive to our eldest their first year (2007) as the Ghost of Christmas Yet-to-Come made its silent, awe-inspiring appearance. After a few intense moments, our little one leaned to me and whispered, “... is that a puppet?” They were spooked, but even at that age they knew a thing or two about stagecraft.

During the 2015-2016 season, Playhouse Square renovated the lobby of the Ohio, restoring it to its original 1920s grandeur. That holiday season, however, due to the construction, it was necessary to take a long, narrow, featureless tunnel into the theater. But what I best remember was that that was the year my entire side of the family – my parents, my brothers and their spouses, my wife and children and our nieces – we all saw the show together on the same night. Father said he’d never seen it before, which surprised me. The memory of this evening is all the more poignant for me as our father died early the next year.

Nick Steen in costume as Ebenezer Scrooge
handing out awards for the
"A Christmas Carol" Writing Contest
(November 26, 2024)

As should be made evident, in addition to my responsibilities assisting with student matinees and facilitating the A Christmas Carol Writing Contest, I have also seen the show many times, watching with a kind of fascination as the tone changes with each director (technically, it has always been “directed by Gerald Freedman” as each subsequent director works to maintain his original staging) and the several – though surprisingly few – men who have assumed the mantle of Ebenezer Scrooge.

A week before Thanksgiving this year, and just as the show was about to open, I was asked to join the acting company, a necessary last-minute replacement. An understudy would take the first weekend, and I would join in thereafter and for the rest of the run. And so my entire holiday schedule this year has been turned upside-down, a crash course in A Christmas Carol and an altogether delightful experience, though at first a bit like jumping onto a moving train.

It was not surprising to me that several members of the company assumed I had performed in this show before. I have worked for Great Lakes Theater for some time. But I have not done this show, and I am very glad to participate in this way, grateful for the opportunity.

At a talkback last week, a student asked the company which moment in the show is our favorite, and I said the street scenes. There are three times when nearly the entire company crosses the stage – that’s a lot of people and not a terribly large space. The choreography is tight and I did mess up once or twice the first couple of times, crushed against a window or bumping into furniture. But by the end of Thanksgiving weekend I felt like an old hand, and am now truly able to breathe and enjoy those moments.

Myself, in costume emceeing the
"A Christmas Carol" Writing Contest
(December 3, 2024)

I’ve made new friends in the company, and am having the chance to work with others I’ve known for years but have never shared a stage with. Some members of the “young company” are the children of old friends, or even students I have taught in schools through the residency program. It’s a youthful, vibrant company – even for those of us who aren’t so young anymore.

And that may be why I love this season, and this production, and the lesson it brings. It is about our shared humanity, negotiating this one world together. No one is more respectful nor deferential than a player in a narrow backstage space, making way for a fellow company or crew member who needs a clear path to rush from point to point, holding a large prop or a basket of costumes, or sporting a voluminous, hallway-spanning skirt.

For closing thoughts, I give you nephew Fred:

“But I am sure I have always thought of Christmas time … as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys.

“And therefore, uncle, though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, God bless it!”

- “A Christmas Carol” by Charles Dickens, 1843

Great Lakes Theater's 36th annual production of "A Christmas Carol" continues through December 22, 2024

Disclaimer: I am employed by Great Lakes Theater. The thoughts and opinions expressed here are my own.

"A Christmas Carol" Writing Contest (2022)

Actor Lynn Robert Berg greets and awards a
writing contest school winner on stage
at the Mimi Ohio Theatre.

Since 1989, Great Lakes Theater has produced a writing contest for sixth, seventh and eighth grade students in the Cleveland Metropolitan School District, in association with the annual production of Gerald Freedman’s adaptation of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.

This past season was my tenth year shepherding the program, which involves engaging English Language Arts teachers throughout the district to participate in the program, contracting the readers who will choose the most original and creative works from the written entries, and making arrangements for all participating students to attend one of two free student matinees of the production.

The past two holidays seasons have been disheartening, to say the least, as there was no stage production of A Christmas Carol in 2020 (though GLT did produce an excellent radio adaptation that year) and while the show went on in 2021, the fact that vaccinations were not yet available to students twelve and younger made student matinees untenable.

The writing contest continued, however. But with remote instruction and without the promise of matinees for students, participation was depressed, which is entirely understandable. For me, however, it was one more of a raft of disappointments during a very difficult period.



In order to revive interest in the contest this year, GLT offered writing workshops to any teachers interested in receiving them. This past fall I conducted twenty such hour-long workshops at schools across the city. While exhausting (and taxing on my voice) it was very inspiring to be able to make a direct connection with so many students – in person – and to engage them in the craft of creative writing.

Here’s the thing; I always wanted to write. When I was a child, I wrote. But my efforts were never promoted. They were never fostered. Not by my parents, and my efforts were outright derided by my brothers’ friends. There was always someone to tell me what I was doing wrong, no one took me aside to show me how to do it right. It took me a long time before I realized it was something I could do. Someone I could be.



In these workshops, there wasn’t a lot of time to cover structure, apart from the basics. What we did was brainstorm, create characters with motivations inspired by themes present in Dickens’ work. When a student offered up a character, I would ask questions about who they were, and where they were, and what they – the character – wanted. And then I asked them to write about that for a few minutes, then we would go further.

When all the entries were submitted, and six grand prize winners were chosen from over a thousand written entries, five of the six had participated in one of these writing workshops. But so many of the stories were so well written this year, whether they had received a workshop or not. Stories about love and acceptance, and grief and anger, about loss and doubt but also confidence and hope.



These kids, my kids, all of our kids, have been through so much these past years, and there is all this talk about how they are behind, in their education and in their socialization. But reading these stories, and hearing their voices as they reacted to a live performance at those student matinees of A Christmas Carol, I see so many strong, resilient, and thoughtful young people.

Read the Grand Prize Winning Stories from the 34th Annual Great Lakes Theater "A Christmas Carol" Writing Contest (2022)

Play a Day: Peter Cratchit, Esq.

Kerr Lockhart

For Tuesday, I read Peter Cratchit, Esq. by Kerr Lockhart and available at New Play Exchange.

A sequel to Dickens's classic, the son of Bob and Emily Cratchit is the director of the charitable organization left behind by Ebenezer Scrooge. Lockhart creates snappy, witty conversation, and peoples the story with characters original and familiar, a celebration of the world of non-profit and the pople in it.

This Christmas fable takes place in the middle of August, something I can entirely sympathize with as I, too, have to begin celebrating the holidays in my own way at that time of year, sending the guidelines to our holiday writing contest to Cleveland public schools in the middle of summer.

Who should I read tomorrow?

J. Todd Adams as Bob Cratchit
(Great Lakes Theater, 2014)

Assessment

Last Tuesday I sat in the window at Appletree Books, writing new monologues for The Witches. We’d had a reading the night before, of the first fifty-five pages, It went well, people laughed. They cared about what was happening. That was a good sign.

The main characters are three women who work in a roadside attraction, and their ages are relevant to the story. One Millennial, one Gen X, one Boomer. After the reading, one had questions about Morgan, the one in her forties, the overlooked middle child of the trio. She’s overshadowed by the other two, which is, of course, the point.

But we’re not done with the story yet, and so I sat in the window on Cedar Road the next night, writing two monologues for that performer, who plays Morgan and also the enslaved woman from 1692, Ruina. She figures into the opening play-within-the-play in which she accuses Goodwife Miller of being a witch.

It’s an original story culled from so many sources in my head, I am piecing it together carefully. Not too absurd, not too real. I don’t know why I am sharing all of this today, except to wave frantically saying hello, still here. The work is happening.

It’s the kind of inner-monologue I normally would share on my running blog, but since the marathon I haven’t been too interested in running.

This week, this Thanksgiving week, there are many and wonderful things to accomplish and experience. Tomorrow I will be meeting a middle school aged intern at a CMSD school to introduce her to a team of actor-teachers so that she may shadow them for the day before I head off to visit other teams at other Cleveland city schools.

We will discuss your affairs this very
afternoon over a bowl of smoking bishop, Bob!

We’re also having our annual pre-holiday potluck in the office, for which I will once again be providing the Smoking Bishop. As we speak, baked and spiced citrus is soaking in wine and sugar. If I still have my legs tomorrow afternoon, I will be editing prize-winning short stories written by CMSD students for broadcast on the radio in mid-December.

Tuesday is the first of two student matinees of Great Lakes Theater's A Christmas Carol to celebrate the writers of these stories. It’s always a thrill to kick off the holidays in this manner, but it takes a great deal of preparation and occupies my thoughts for most of November.

At the same time, both of my brothers and their families are coming to town for Thanksgiving, which is also a reason for celebration but with it comes all the attendant plotting and planning.

This in addition to all of the holiday planning for my own, nuclear family. We have our personal traditions and as long as the children live in our house we will honor and keep them.

As you can see, much is happening. I wouldn’t have it any other way,

Recording A Christmas Carol Writing Contest

During the Great Education Department Realignment of 2013, one responsibility that I had earned was to shepherd the quarter-century established "A Christmas Carol" Writing Contest. Middle school aged city of Cleveland school kids are invited to write poems, stories and essays, inspired by themes present in Charles Dickens' classic work.

Great Lakes Theater collaborates with the Cleveland Metropolitan School District to provide all participating students free tickets and transportation to attend a matinee performance of A Christmas Carol, and students whose work was singled out by their teachers are called on stage, by name, receive commemorative T-shirts, get to meet actors from the company, and receive applause and the supportive cheers of their classmates.

It is a pretty sweet event. And it means that beginning in August, I have already started thinking of the holidays, contacting every single CMSD middle school English language arts teacher to encourage their participation in the event.

In case you are wondering, that is almost seventy schools. I have a pretty decent system going now, making phone calls, sending PDFs by email, and more often than not, communicating by fax. Yes, I know.

There are also six grand prize winners, who receive special gifts, a booklet including their work, and a special evening for they, their parents and teachers to attend an evening performance. These students' work is chosen from all of the school winners from a panel of judges composed of members of the GLT education staff, and close supporters of the company.

Laura Welsh Berg

Last year, we added a new component to the contest. In collaboration with Great Lakes, WCPN 90.3 FM ideastream produced a special holiday broadcast of Sound of Applause, one in which host Dee Perry interviews the students and actors from the A Christmas Carol company read their stories.

Now, some of the stories these kids write are really very good, and last year I was loath to edit them for time. This was a mistake, as recording the stories took several recording sessions spread out over a couple afternoons. Our actors just came off two solid weeks of rehearsal and the last thing I wanted to do was tax them on their first week after opening the show.

Having said that, they were incredible generous and excited about this new program, and the reaction from the students, hearing these talented performs interpret their work, was that of complete delight.

This year I was a bit more aggressive in editing. This was not an easy thing to do, as these middle school writers' creative, original and expressive use of language is a large part of what makes the work so exciting to read. But a booklet of their unabridged works will be available to read on the Great Lakes Theater website soon, and I do feel I was able to cut the work without sacrificing each student's unique voice.

We recorded one story two weeks ago. Today we recorded the other five in about an hour, total. Many deeply felt thanks to Aled, Betsy, Jodi, Laura, Lynn, M.A. and Sara for their time and great talent. The broadcast will be next Monday at 2 pm and 10 pm on WCPN 90.3 FM. Check back for links and more info.

Stealing Christmas (play)

Clockwise from left: Jen, Larry, me, Shruti and Victor.

Casing the joint.

Part of our responsibilities as members of the Karamu education department, in addition to the daily outreach tour to schools around northeast Ohio, was to perform in the annual holiday play for young audiences.

In 1991 that was a new play by John Cameron, Stealing Christmas, directed by education department director Justin Dennis.

The tale is straightforward. Four kids, Chris, Lila, Tony and Donny, craft a plan to make some money on a cold, winter's night. Chris (Victor Dickerson) is the ring-leader, deciding it would be clever to  knock on the door of some old person, sing carols or something, and when they get invited in, he would distract them while the others go through the place and rob them blind.

New Jerk Hustler

The first house they try, they meet Edna (Jennifer Silver) who lives on her own, and is all too happy to have company. Soon Chris is seated, eating cookies while Lila (Shruti Amin), Donny (my college roommate Larry Trice) and Tony (myself) have disappeared into the rest of the house.

Edna's childhood stories were played out onstage by three of us, with me returning as her father, Larry her brother and Shruti as a young Edna, showing how she and her family always got by without much, except love and happiness and positive feelings. 

In the end Chris learns the true meaning of Christmas, and his friends return to tell what they have learned: the old woman has nothing, her house is practically empty.

Christmas memories.

I was reminded of this tale when my family and I journeyed downtown this afternoon to see the new holiday play A Carol for Cleveland at Cleveland Play House.

Written by Eric Coble and based on a novella by mystery writer Les Roberts, this play tells the story of an out-of-work steelworker in the late 1970s. Originally from the Pittsburgh area, Ed Podolak (Charles Kartali) has been living hand-to-mouth in the armpit of the nation for a year, trying to find steady employment.

As in Stealing Christmas — indeed, as in the original Dickens' classic, A Christmas Carol — the past is used as a device not only to educate the audience about the history of an individual, and how they came to be who they are, but to provide a reminder of what they were always meant to be. Or could be. Or after all, should be.

Yelling at hobos on Public Square.

However, as my wife pointed out, it is Dickens who dared take that extra step, and to wade into class politics.

It is important for us, all of us, to be grateful for what we have, to share with those closest to us, and with those we do not even know, and above all to remain positive. To have hope.

But Dickens also suggests that those who live in plenty have a moral responsibility to contribute to the general welfare, and to engage with and to care for mankind.

Or to burn for all eternity in the pits of Hell.

Happy New Year

I have not run in over two weeks. This in spite of today being a gloriously above-freezing day. I had an allergic reaction to a topical medication on Friday night (we don't need to get into that) and my right foot swelled very painfully, and the infection went all the way up may leg, making it very uncomfortable to stand, walk or even sit upright.

The Christmas shopping is only partially accomplished. The children are going stark-raving insane. And so are we. My wife is horribly overbooked, I have so much to accomplish before the end of the year ... which really ends on December 23, when you look at it realistically. Grant applications, final reports, including the final report for this award. It's about time, but it's also about space. The space in my head. I'm a little overwhelmed, and not particularly happy.

The house is a cluttered mess. I tried to push back a little today, but there's only so much you can accomplish AND take time out for holiday cheer. Went to see A Christmas Carol at Great Lakes this afternoon.

So much to do. No time.

And yet, on this day, December 11, I did compose a first draft. It is there. It is spotty, but I can see the cracks and aim to fill them. Our story begins on New Year's Eve, and ends there, too.

But not in that order.