In memoriam: Musician Stuart Rosenberg turned the world from ‘black and white to Technicolor’
“I love everything, all music, and that’s why I do what I do. My great passion has always been to share the things I love.”
In an area rich with musical talents and inspiring people, few combined those qualities as compellingly as did Stuart J. Rosenberg, a man of Promethean skills and accomplishments, and let us not forget an infectious good cheer.
Rosenberg died on May 7 at his home in Skokie, from a heart attack after some years of fighting various serious ailments. He had lived 68 full years but the relatively premature nature of his death was shocking to many.
Naturally, social media messages reflected that, but also were rich with pleasant memories and praise such as, “Your extraordinary talent brought pleasure to so many people in so many different ways.”
OK then, where to start?
Though he never attained the bright name recognition of some of his contemporaries — Howard Levy, Corky Seigel, Megon McDonough — he rivaled any in esteem and affection.
He was a master of many instruments (violin, mandolin and more), with an insatiable curiosity that led him happily into all manner of musical genres (Irish, bluegrass, klezmer, jazz and folk among the many). He was an accomplished engineer and producer, working in his Long Dog Studios for a number of recording artists. He was an educator, teaching at the Old Town School of Folk Music. He was a radio host of such memorable NPR offerings as “Earth Club” and “Radio Gumbo.” He was a writer and an astute cultural critic, most of that work appearing in Chicago magazine. He was …
John Soss was a friend of Rosenberg’s and is a fixture on the music scene as an executive with Jam Productions, the concert and events producer. He told me: “Stuart’s tireless curiosity about music, art and literature — and his uncanny ability to absorb all of those influences — made him into a truly unique and well-rounded practitioner of the arts. What made him stand out, though, was the manner in which he could capably shape those things into sustainable ventures. He was equal parts musician, promoter, businessman, producer, bandleader, organizer, hustler and cheerleader, and in a career that spanned five decades, he also proved to be resilient enough to overcome the ups and downs that anyone would experience in the music business.”
Rosenberg was a local and though he performed music across the globe— Finland, Mexico and many other places — he remained tied to this area. Though his parents might have envisioned for him a career as a doctor, he became beguiled by the violin lessons he took in his youth. When he was 16, he won a scholarship to attend school in Haifa, Israel, and there he was exposed to a wider variety of music and musicians.
He would fashion a keenly collaborative career. He simply and energetically loved to play and would do so with hundreds, perhaps thousands, of musicians and in such groups as Rogues, the Laketown Buskers and The Otters.
“My whole musical life I have had this ongoing, living, growing relationship with audiences,” he once told me.
He was among the mainstays of First Night Evanston, the annual New Year’s Eve community celebration, going from performer to organizer and producer. In the 1980s, he formed the Society of the Preservation of Arts and Culture in Evanston as a storefront music venue which, with partner Craig Golden, would eventually become SPACE, one of the most admired performance venues in the Midwest.
Singer Jamie O’Reilly has often performed there. She was also a member of the Rogues and tells me, “When I started hanging out with Stuart 40 years ago, my world went from black and white to Technicolor. Everything from his sandalwood and jasmine-scented apartment, to the hot, spicy andouille sausage in his gumbo, to the mind boggling palette of his musical tastes fascinated me.
“I learned so much from him. He was such a loyal friend and we were never afraid to plumb the depths of life’s toughest challenges in our talks, of which there were many, seeking meaning and somehow come out on the other side with similar objectives: practice goodness, listen, and love. The love and wisdom shared at his powerful funeral relieved me of the fear he might be forgotten.”
His jam-packed funeral Friday in Skokie featured wonderful memories and observations from his friend and “musical colleague” Cantor Randy Herman, and eulogies from the two children he shared with his wife Rachael, of more than three decades, Theo and Allegra.
Of course there was music, with Allegra offering the Grateful Dead’s “Ripple” while O’Reilly and some Rogues performed “Will Ye Go Lassie Go” a Scottish folk song (aka “Wild Mountain Thyme”).
Watching this moving hour, I recalled many things, among them the afternoon some years ago when Rosenberg and I shared a radio studio and he said, “I love everything, all music, and that’s why I do what I do. My great passion has always been to share the things I love.”
rkogan@chicagotribune.com
