Chicago journalist and editor Kris Vire died Nov. 18 after a year-long battle with colon and esophageal cancer. He was 47.
Vire was born on Aug. 23, 1977, in Fayetteville, Arkansas, where he spent his childhood and teen years. He got his bachelor’s degree in drama and dramatics/theater arts from the University of Arkansas in 2000.
Shortly after Vire graduated from college, he moved to Chicago where became a founding member of Gapers Block; he worked there from 2003-2007. Vire moved onto Time Out Chicago, where he progressed through a number of positions from 2007-2018, ultimately becoming one of the publication’s senior editors.
Since 2018, Vire had been a freelance reporter and editor for various publications including Chicago Magazine as the arts and culture editor and Rotary International as the digital copy editor. He also published a blog and later Substack newsletter called Storefront Rebellion until 2020.
Vire’s work also appeared in American Theater Magazine, the Chicago Sun-Times, Fodor’s Travel, The Guardian, PerformInk, and the New York Times. He was a regular guest on WGN Radio’s Dean Richards’ Sunday Morning; led a regular segment on ABC-7 Chicago’s 11 a.m. newscast; was a featured on-camera personality for CBS-2 Chicago and FOX-32 Chicago; and appeared in radio segments on WGN and WBEZ.
Vire lived in Chicago’s Edgewater neighborhood with his fiancée Joe Torres. They instantly connected after their first date in 2016. They had matched with each other via both Bumble and Tinder. Torres said they quickly discovered they had “nerd-ish leanings and every subsequent relationship milestone felt right and natural, despite being two always-in-their-heads double Virgos.”
The couple had many adventures and traveled the country and world together. But Torres added that what he will miss everyday interactions with Vire the most: being at home on the couch, where they talked about “everything and nothing,” as well as his warmth and kindness “and the security he always provided in his love for me.”
Vire was preceded in death by his grandfather Ken Farthing. He is survived by Torres; his parents Keith and Jan Vire; sister Julie (Aaron) Weegens; nephew Jonah Weegens; grandmother Nelda Farthing; aunts and uncles Larry (Bridget) Farthing, Shawna (Calvin) Jarrett, Alan Vire, Larry Chronister and Jeff (Debby) Vire; several beloved cousins; and countless close friends in Fayetteville and Chicago.
Keith Vire said of his son, “From his early childhood, Kris was a kind, compassionate, brilliant and talented person. If you ever found yourself challenged to a game of Trivial Pursuit, he was the guy you wanted on your team. We shared a love of baseball. As a lifelong St. Louis Cardinals fan, I was taken aback when Kris became a rabid Cubs fan, even using the word ‘we’ when discussing the team.”
Torres said of his fiancée, “I accompanied Kris to countless theater productions across the city, from large-scale touring shows to small, scrappy storefront theater productions. I witnessed the diligence and care he dedicated to his craft, the long hours spent poring over reviews and features for all the publications he wrote for. To the Chicago theater community: he was proud of his career and advocacy for Chicago theater over the past two decades.
“One of my great regrets for Kris is that he did not get the opportunity to be a stronger voice in the last few years. He was one of the few staff/full-time writers and editors who were left after arts and culture positions were cut by most media outlets. He didn’t have a lot of opportunities to share his work more widely over time. Kris had countless ideas for covering, challenging and advocating for the Chicago arts and culture scene. We often lamented the decimation of arts and culture news desks across the country over the years by private equity firms—Chicago certainly wasn’t spared.
“Kris was beloved by his family and tight circle of friends/found family. While he may have outwardly seemed quiet, reserved to many, he loved his family and our tight-knit friend crew deeply, and we all knew it. He was incredibly smart, sweet, loving, talented, thoughtful and pragmatic. He was the kind of person who could figure anything out and always found a natural order to things. Kris also possessed a true, innate kindness, and we’re all feeling the loss of that presence in our lives.
“He was the love of my life—my heart, my home, my family. He was truly the best partner I could have ever asked for. We found each other at the right time in our lives and built a home and community that we were both incredibly proud of. We navigated developing a true partnership and all that entails. When we asked each other about what we wanted for the future, we both agreed: there’s no singular ‘thing’—just more of the life we created. He brought a kindness, a sense of family and love I’d never known in my life, and I will be forever grateful to him for that.
“The last play we saw together was Primary Trust at the Goodman last month, and there was a quote that deeply resonated with me as we were watching, given the circumstances we were in and the limited time that we knew we had: ‘Even though we will lose everything in the end, it is the finding that is important. And it is a privilege to love everything before death touches it.’
“It was truly an honor to love and be loved by Kris. Thank you for everything, and I’ll miss you forever, handsome man.”
Close friends remember Vire
Laura Rote said, “Kris was one of the very first people I met when I moved to Chicago in 2015. We worked together at Time Out before becoming fast friends. He was my favorite person to edit because, well, I almost never had edits. I simply wanted to read what he wrote. He was one of those rare writers you could point to and say, ‘See? Not all writing can be taught.’ His way with words and storytelling was innate.
“He was also one of the most caring, kind people I know, an amazing music trivia partner and a support for me and many others through the ups and downs of life for years. Kris was often the quiet type, but that never meant he wasn’t listening. He was always paying attention, always tuned in. He was the kind of person who, when asked his opinion, took his time and answered thoughtfully. It was a privilege to hear his take—on anything and everything. I was so lucky to know him.”
Kelly Loris said, “Kris loved his chosen home, Chicago, with all of his heart. He obviously loved theater (in an encyclopedic way). But he also loved Chicago’s food scene, which he enjoyed with his dinner club. He loved seeing live music at venues large and small. He loved Chicago sports, especially the Cubs. He loved experiencing all the museums and neighborhoods, and he loved doing it with his many friends, and found family. His was a life filled with joy and beauty and curiosity and, yes, love.”
Jeremy Loris said, “Kris and I went to college together and have been friends ever since. He was a kind and considerate person who always weighed how his actions and words would affect others. Aside from his extensive theater knowledge and writing prowess, he was a masterful chef, a music connoisseur, a comic book aficionado and a Razorback fan. He could sneakily throw a mean game of darts, too.”
Julie Cowden-Starbird said, “Kris was one of my oldest friends. We met in 1992 when we started high school together. We shared a lot of the same honors classes and got to know each other. Pretty quickly, we were working on projects together. His sense of humor was what drew me to him, wry and dry. I always loved going to see shows with him in Chicago—everyone on the staff of whatever theater we were in would fall all over themselves, but for him it was just another show. He really loved theatre, and he really loved Chicago. I will miss him terribly.”
John Morton said, “I’ve known Kris since 2016 when he and my friend Joe started dating. Our friend group spent a lot of our time going to concerts, dinner and enjoying Chicago festivals. Kris fit right in and some. He had this whole background and love for theater that sparked a curiosity in our friend group. We loved talking to Kris about what he had planned next and what article he was cooking up. That’s the thing about Kris, he was probably the smartest person in the room but never showed off. He was just cool, collected and sincere.
“Our group started something called ‘Dinner Club,’ where one of us picked a new restaurant to try every month. It was a good excuse to get together and enjoy each other’s company. Proud to say we’ve kept it going for five years (minus a break during COVID). This was our core group of eight, but Kris had so many people that he called a friend and so many people that loved him. He impacted so many people and I’m just so grateful that he was part of our lives. Kris was an amazing partner to my friend, Joe, and it made me happy seeing them build such a beautiful life together.”
Kristine Vesper said, “My sweet buddy Kris was such a kind, calm, loving person. When I met him so many years ago, I immediately felt at ease with him and felt connected to him. You will be so missed and forever loved dear friend.”
Ema Ode said, “I met Kris quickly after he and Joe started dating. And as a fellow introvert, I instantly felt at ease with his quiet, kind presence and quick, clever wit. He was the perfect complement to Joe’s extroverted energy.
“We traded Cooks Illustrated and New York Times Cooking recipes and bonded over how absurd and overly dramatic reader reviews can be on those platforms after completely changing the recipe and failing to follow directions before getting creative with the ingredients. I recall texting him for recommendations for the best ‘carefree’ show running at the time and got back in response the most hilarious but cutting one-line assessment of Taming of the Shrew, capped with a closing comment ‘Ahem, I have opinions.’
“We were all so optimistic that he would beat the diagnosis, so his passing has been heartbreaking. We will miss him immensely.”
Per Vire’s wishes, a private, invitation-only celebration of life will be held at a later date.
Donations can be made to the American Civil Liberties Union , Human Rights Campaign and/or the Esophageal Cancer Action Network in Kris Vire’s honor.
