They marched, they banged drums and, with blue faces devoid of any recognizable human emotion, they occasionally paused to dab paint on passersby during their North Side protest Monday.
But the two dozen participants uttered not a single word — in homage to the always silent, blue-faced characters that stalked the Briar Street Theatre’s stage for the last time on Sunday night, as “Blue Man Group,” following an almost 30-year run at the North Side venue, abruptly announced in late November that it would be closing. The Sun-Times reported at that time that representatives for Blue Man Group, owned since 2017 by Montreal-based Cirque du Soleil, declined to comment on the reasons for the closure.
The protesters, many of whom held behind-the-scenes roles with Blue Man Group, say they now face an uncertain future, even though the company has plans to remount a residency in Orlando in April with the opening of a new Blue Man Group production in a new state-of-the-art theater. The show is also ending its more-than-three-decades run in New York on Feb. 2.
“They’ve offered us all referrals for jobs in Florida, but the majority of the staff here is women, queer people, people of color, and they’ve offered us referrals to work in a state where we don’t have basic rights to health care or housing,” said one of the protest organizers, Kira Calvaresi, who held several roles at Briar Street, including camera operator and stage technician.
Florida is, among other things, home to what critics have dubbed the “Don’t Say Gay” state law, which prohibits instruction on sexual orientation and gender identity in early grades.
Blue Man Group failed to collaborate with the Chicago crew about possible ways to keep the show going here or even “evolving it,” Calvaresi said.
“Keeping us a part of the conversation — it didn’t happen, which is strange for all of us because it’s so opposite to how we’ve been doing this art the whole time,” she said.
In response to the protest, the show’s producers offered a statement: “Blue Man Group is deeply grateful for the incredible support and love we’ve received from the Chicago community over the past 27+ years. Closing our Chicago production was not a decision made lightly. We celebrate the artistry, creativity and passion of our cast and crew that made our run at the Briar Street Theatre so special and are honored to have been part of Chicago’s vibrant cultural landscape.”
As a light snow began to fall, the protesters made their way from the Annoyance Theatre on West Belmont to Halsted. Four of them, all in blue face, held aloft an open casket. When the group reached the Briar Street Theatre a few minutes later, they gently lowered the casket. Inside, among other things, were packets of marshmallows. The real Blue Men are famous for tossing, rapid fire, marshmallows into each other’s mouths during the stage show.
As a portable fire pit appeared in the theater parking lot, the protesters gathered around it and began roasting marshmallows. When they were done, they rose and turned toward the theater. In unison, each protester raised both hands in the air — the Blue Man’s mute salute of gratitude.
