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Anyone who's seen Marley & Me (or Rocky) for the express purpose of watching scenes that were filmed in Philly knows the fun of being able to say "Hey! I ride by that building every day!" in response to a piece of art. Gregory Prestegord's oil paintings — of the old tracks on Columbus Boulevard, Broad Street after the Phillies won, a girl biking by factories in North Philly (pictured) — are enjoyable for that reason, but not for that reason alone. His chaotic brush strokes and careful attention to light capture well what this city has to offer — sometimes distressing blight, sometimes manic joy and often a strange combination of the two.
After the 90-minute production of Chicken, a dapper 90-year-old man who has seen hundreds of plays in his lifetime said to me, "That was a little intense, huh?" Indeed. At times, the play — which follows an impoverished group of friends as they try to make it big by raising a fighting rooster — could be mistaken for a live performance of Jerry Springer. A pregnant woman smokes and drinks, an obese man eats McDonald's for breakfast, and vitriolic yelling dominates every conversation. But the visceral, unsteady feeling it gives viewers (which is in no small part thanks to Paul Felder's impassioned acting) seems to be the point — this is what poverty does to people, and audience members should count their lucky stars that they can leave this crazy world after only an hour and a half.
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