- One ticket to Asia
- When: Tuesday, October 7, at 8 p.m.
- Where: Pabst Theater
- Door time: 7 p.m.
- Ticket values include all fees.
- $32 for the second-floor balcony, rows A–F (up to $64.26 value)
- $27 for the third-floor balcony (up to $52.95 value)
- Click to view the seating chart
- The superheroes of this prog/arena-rock supergroup: singer/bassist John Wetton (King Crimson), keyboardist Geoff Downes (Yes, The Buggles), and drummer Carl Palmer (Emerson, Lake & Palmer)
- The new guy filling the retired Steve Howe’s shoes: Sam Coulson, who got the gig thanks to a series of impressive guitar videos on YouTube
- Asia hits that dominated airwaves and MTV rotation in 1982: “Heat of the Moment,” “Only Time Will Tell,” “Sole Survivor”
- Funny places you’ve heard “Heat of the Moment”: warbled by Eric Cartman on South Park, amplifying the climax of The 40 Year Old Virgin, and cooed by your furnace repairman
- What to expect live: material plucked from all 14 of Asia’s studio albums, including cuts from its latest, Gravitas, all played with impeccable showmanship
Captain Frederick Pabst contributed to Milwaukee’s status as a cultural landmark of the upper Midwest by building Pabst Theater, formally known as Das Neue Deutsche Stadt-Theater, in 1895. According to legend, when he was informed that his theater had burned to the ground, the brewing magnate interrupted his European vacation to wire home the order to “Rebuild at once!”—and 11 months later, the stage was completed anew. Where the old theater honored German artists by having their names inscribed along the cornice of the auditorium, the new building featured an international consortium of cultural notables. The theater’s globe-spanning influences were made even more apparent with the installation of an Austrian crystal chandelier and an Italian marble staircase.
As vaudeville heaved its last breaths in the late 1920s, Pabst Theater opened in 1928 and served as a performance hall for just a few years before Warner Brothers took it over to screen their films. Decades of neglect followed, reaching a nadir in 1966 when a carelessly tossed cigarette butt incinerated the proscenium’s drapery, prompting the cash-conscious owners to replace the opulent teal velour with workmanlike duvetyn. A slated demolition in 1982 nearly replaced the theater with a shopping mall before a coalition of citizens convinced philanthropist Joseph Zilber to save the space. In the subsequent renovations, craftsmen installed plush red drapery, overhauled the obsolete lighting, and repainted the faded French Baroque gilding of the auditorium, restoring the elegant space to its former glory and inspiring it to get back out on the theater dating scene.