SF Symphony Mahler appetizer

At the last minute we decided we would treat ourselves to a little date at the Symphony -- after all, with an orchestra this good in town it seems a crime not to take advantage of it.

The program was quite a mix - some bite sized Wagner excerpts, the Beethoven Piano Concerto and the adagio from Mahler's unfinished Tenth. Such an d experience, that Mahler Tenth. The symphony will be recording it and they'll play it again in April. It's quite the experience, with complicated and sometimes heart-wrenching passages. And you have to hand it to a guy who's willing to end the adage with all the violins nailing a fading harmonic note.

The ending of the program though -- Wagner's Ride of the Valkyries -- just made me giggle. There we are in a Symphony hall nad I feel like we ought to be in a movie theater chomping popcorn and watching Eisenstein.

What ---?? Part II

In the continuing story of how upside down the thinking was during the disaster:

PENSACOLA, Fla., Sept. 6 - Two Navy helicopter pilots and their crews returned from New Orleans on Aug. 30 expecting to be greeted as lifesavers after ferrying more than 100 hurricane victims to safety.

Instead, their superiors chided the pilots, Lt. David Shand and Lt. Matt Udkow, at a meeting the next morning for rescuing civilians when their assignment that day had been to deliver food and water to military installations along the Gulf Coast.

Navy Pilots Who Rescued Victims Are Reprimanded - New York Times

What the ---??

I'm starting a new feature on this blog (since I have to put this someplace) that collects all the articles about the Hurricane Katrina disaster that have made me go, "What the ---?!?" Kind of a "What were they thinking?" "What do we pay them for?" "What kind of virus ate away the good sense God gave a goose?" series...

FEMA accused of flying evacuees to wrong Charleston
A South Carolina health official said his colleagues scrambled Tuesday when FEMA gave only a half-hour notice to prepare for the arrival of a plane carrying as many as 180 evacuees to Charleston. But the plane, instead, landed in Charleston, West Virginia, 400 miles away.

Barbara Bush: Things Working Out 'Very Well' for Poor Evacuees from New Orleans
"And so many of the people in the arena here, you know, were underprivileged anyway, so this--this (she chuckles slightly) is working very well for them."

Condi Returns to D.C. After Bloggers and 'Post' Expose Vacation
All day Thursday, from the New York Post to several popular blogs, Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice came under attack and ridicule for having fun in Manhattan while New Orleans sank and exploded in violence. By nightfall, she had cut short her vacation and returned to her post in Washington. The Post started it with an early morning Page Six item about Rice playing tennis with Monica Seles at a court near New York's Grand Central. Then Drudge revealed that she had attended a Broadway play -- "Spamalot," no less -- the night before.

He Held Their Lives in His Tiny Hands: 6-Year old found wandering the causeway with infant and five toddlers in his care.
"It goes back to the same thing," he said. "How did a 6-year-old end up being in charge of six babies?"

AP: FEMA Chief Waited Hours to Ask for Homeland Security Help
Brown's memo told employees that among their duties, they would be expected to "convey a positive image of disaster operations to government officials, community organizations and the general public."

Federal agency 'slow' to accept business help
Mary Landrieu, the Democratic US senator from Louisiana, accused the Federal Emergency Management Agency of having "dragging its feet" when Amtrak offered trains to evacuate victims.

Why FEMA turned away help
Last night, one of my friends joined our regular Sunday chat. He had just come home from New Orleans with his group of volunteer firefighters from Houston, after they had waited outside New Orleans for since Tuesday for FEMA to let them help in New Orleans, or use them somewhere else in the stricken region.

After Failures, Government Officials Play Blame Game
When Wal-Mart sent three trailer trucks loaded with water, FEMA officials turned them away, he said. Agency workers prevented the Coast Guard from delivering 1,000 gallons of diesel fuel, and on Saturday they cut the parish's emergency communications line, leading the sheriff to restore it and post armed guards to protect it from FEMA, Mr. Broussard said.

FEMA Turns away flotilla of citizen volunteers in boats
On Tuesday afternoon, August 30, Jefferson Parish Sheriff Harry Lee asked for all citizens with boats to come to the aid of Jefferson Parish. A short time later Dwight Landreneau, the head of the La. Depart. of Wildlife and Fisheries, got on television and remarked that his agency had things under control and citizen help was not needed.

Navy ship nearby underused: Craft with food, water, doctors needed orders
But now the Bataan's hospital facilities, including six operating rooms and beds for 600 patients, are empty. A good share of its 1,200 sailors could also go ashore to help with the relief effort, but they haven't been asked. The Bataan has been in the stricken region the longest of any military unit, but federal authorities have yet to fully utilize the ship.

And from FEMA's OWN SITE:
First Responders Urged Not To Respond To Hurricane Impact Areas Unless Dispatched By State, Local Authorities
Michael D. Brown, Under Secretary of Homeland Security for Emergency Preparedness and Response and head of the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA), today urged all fire and emergency services departments not to respond to counties and states affected by Hurricane Katrina without being requested and lawfully dispatched by state and local authorities under mutual aid agreements and the Emergency Management Assistance Compact.
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To give credit where credit is due, several of these I found originally here.

I have fuzzy animals...

Okay, so this isn't calendar-related, but I have to have my kitty-fix, so....

Here's the Fuzz Meister:


And for those who have never seen my shy little black poofball:

Cachao rocks the house at Bimbo's

What a hot show we saw last night at Bimbo's 365. The place was packed for a tribute to Israel Lopez "Cachao," the father of the mambo.

Playing with Andy Garcia's Cineson (the name of his production company also) the 86-year old bassist dominated the place from the start. Garcia has recorded several master sessions with Cachao and also produced and directed a documentary --Israel "Cachao" Lopez, Ahora Si! Andy Garcia Presents Cachao - CD & DVD Set-- bringing the man back to the forefront of attention for the many people who have listened over the years to bootlegs of his recordings, but never known who he was.

The band, which according to Eric included several local regulars who play with John Santos (Santos himself showed up with a bunch noisemakers in bag and sat in) was a crack team. The Japanese lead trumpet player blasted away from the start of the evening, causing us to wonder if he'd actually blow his face off.

If I mention that a ballerina from San Francisco Ballet was at the "Reserved for guests of Andy Garcia" table, it probably won't take more than one guess to figure out who it was. She also appearing in Garcia's latest movie , "The Lost City" which opens in a few weeks.

Duccio and the early Chinese Art at the Met

No visit to New York at Chrsitmas would be complete without a stop into the Metropolitan Museum to see the Neapolitan Christmas Creche. But there was an added holiday treat as the Mueum's recently acquired Duccio's "Madonna and Child" went on display.

It's small - maybe the size of a piece of paper, but beautifully delicate. While we were in the gallery I heard a man trying to explain to a friend why this painting was of any interest or any more important than the zillions of other Christmas card paintings the Met has hanging all over its galleries. He tried to put it in historical perspective, but I think the point that his friend never got was that changes in style and attitude even thematic shifts in art often happen so incrementally as to be almost unnoticeable. Who knows when the first Nativity Scene with snow was painted? But now, everyone see snow in Nativity scenes, even though Bethlehem was unlikely to have ever been dusted with more than rain.

But I digress, the Met's new Duccio is small -- not so grand as his Maesta Altarpiece, and maybe because it wasn't of enormous significance, Duccio felt he could take a bit of license with the usual idioms of Madonna and Child portrayal. Instead of looking godlike and lofty, the madonna has weight. Her child reaches for her veil, more like a normal baby, instead of sitting there with a hand raised in god-like blessing. Naturalism is somehow creeping into sacred pictures. Ordinary people are starting to have enough money to buy objections of personal devotion. Intimacy is a relatively new aspect of commune with God. And this painting in some way represents that enormous change in attitudes.

The exhibit "China: Dawn of a Golden Age, 200-750 AD," which spans the period from the collapse of the Han dynasty into the fabled Tang dynasty, was quite spectacular and comprehensive too. Featuring exquisitely crafted objects-- animals, figurines, pieces from Silk Road trade -- the exhibition traces a history of culture that I couldn't help but compare with the Hellenistic background covered so beautifully in the Alexander the Great exhibit at the Onassis Center.

It relieves me to think of the history of mankind not just including war but also enduring evidence of beautiful and refined things as well.

The new MOMA in New York

What do I think of the newly renovated and expanded Museum of Modern Art? I want to say I like it. I want to be all hip and "in the know" and talk about Yoshio Taniguchi's bold use of positive and negative space creates... but who am I kidding?

I grew up with the old place, and honestly, I just can't warm to the new space yet. Maybe I will in time -- I've only been there once after all. But as much as it was like greeting old friends to go up to the Brancusis and Chagalls and chuckle at the Duchamp again, I felt it wasn't a place I could happily wander away for hours as I used to. I think it reminded me too much of San Francisco's MOMA, which I often think of (institutionally) as a very arch and fussy cat.

One thing rather well done now is the arrangment of artworks more thematically than rigidly by artist or genre. I have much more of a fluid sense of interconnection now.

And don't get me wrong -- I'll be back there again, although at those admission prices -- $20 for adults-- I'll be asking my Dad to take me in on his membership card all the time.

The Aztecs at the Guggenheim -- Blood on the Chocolate

My Dad and I hit the Aztec Empire exhibit, which goes until Feb 13 at the Guggenheim in New York.

First off, can I just wonder why it is that the Guggenheim doesn't exhibit their shows so that you go up to the top of the building to begin with and then work your way down the spiral? I remember hearing that that was the orignal intention of Frank Lloyd Wright, but the shows that I've seen lately don't do that, and so you have to climb endlessly, or see the show backwards, which is what we did.

The artifacts --from collections all over, but largely from the Museo Nacional de Antropologia in Mexico City -- are impressive, some even exquisitely crafted, but signage on the display was practically nil. I dislike walking around holding those laminated cards, so I relied partly on the museum's monthly guide, which had a fine article by Felipe Solis, director of the aforementioned Anthropoligcal Museum. Of course, I had to read it backwards.

One thing that continued to disturb me throughout the exhibit was the reckless imaginings that kept cropping up in my head of human sacrifice and mutilations. The culture of the Mayans and Aztecs, I suppose, will never be one I understand. No matter how many times I read about how it was an "honor" for the victims and how nicely they were treated leading up to the sacrifice, no amount of warm cups of chocolate makes having your living heart ripped out of your chest seem worth it.

Every so often I'd pass another image -- a statue of Xipe Totec wearing a human skin, a nicely curved stone made for holding human blood -- and (not to get too woo-woo about this, but...) I'd feel almost overwhelmed by a sense of horror at the amount of death that had been involved with that particular object.

Humans are such a queer bunch -- for all our vaunted logic, we seem to be the only creature on the planet that is superstitious and on such a scale! How would any logical creature imagine that sacrificing 20,000 individuals would have any direct association with the next year's harvest?

After the Ball -- Noel Coward takes on Oscar Wilde

The Irish Repertory Theatre is one of those small, but ever interesting and serious rep companies in New York. Why don't we have more of these in San Francisco? They perform Bernard Shaw, Sean O'Casey, Oscar Wilde -- always interesting stuff.

This season, in a lighter vein, they hauled out a musical reworking Noel Coward once made of Oscar Wilde's "Lady Windemere's Fan."

Coward's acerbic wit is not so much in evidence in this musical, which dates from the early fifties, and enjoyed moderate success, despite many modifications Coward was forced to make when one of his stars turned out to be less of a singer than he thought. Still the charm is still there.

Kathleen Widdoes, who pays the Duchess of Berwick (and a sort of Chorus) shows why she's a pro-- whether it's Shakespeare or sitting room satire. For sheer singing chops, Greg Mills, as Mr. Hopper, and Mary Iles as Mrs. Erlynne were delightful. Kristin Huxhold as Lady Windemere was beautiful to look at, but had some distracting mannerisms and a weaker voice, but the multi-talented David Staller (who studied cello under Mstislav Rostropovich) made for a heartfelt Lord Darlington.

The Irish Rep has a chance in the near future to purchase the building they live in and have launched a capital campaign to raise the funds. To donate, check out their website. They're worth supporting.

Alexander the Great: Exhibit at the Onassis Cultural Center

In perfect timing with the release of a (by other accounts) bombastic movie about Alexander the Great is the exhibition of a terrifically refined gem of a show that includes Hellenistic artifacts gathered from museums and collections all over the world at the Onassis Cultural Center in the basement of the Olympic Tower.

The armor, the weapons, but also the jewelry and everyday pieces were wonderfully selected and arranged to give an evocative picture of life in the 4th century BC. In some ways I enjoy smaller exhibitions, because what you lose in breadth, you can pick up in detail. I don't know if I would have spent so long examining the golden beads of a women's necklace if I thought there were 6000 other artifacts to look at. But what a reward to be able to look so carefully at the inscriptions on gold laurel leaves, or the craftsmanship in the sculpting of a head on a silver wine jug.

Upstairs, casts of the Elgin marbles adorn the walls of the lobby. How funny to see people in business suits speed by them, indifferent to thousands of years of history. But maybe that's generally how we are -- indifferent to thousands of years of history.

Jazz Center at Columbus Circle

I was a little disappointed that the December season for the new Jazz Center was over by the time I got to New York, but I had a great time strolling through the space anyhow. What a spectacular view from the "lobby," as well as, of course, the Rose hall and the Allen Room.

The little Jazz Hall of Fame was open at least and we watched sveral projection presentations for the latest inductees.

What impresses me most about the place though is the vastness of space -- it has a grandness that seems to elude so many public venues these days and I love it. Check out the architect Rafael Vinoly's, page.

Fallujah in Pictures

Fallujah in Pictures shows another side of the conflict. Hard to look at, but I'm glad someone has this site.

Treasures of King Tut returning to LA, other U.S. sites

I saw this show as a kid-- what an amazing exhibit. Nowthat the Tut treasures are coming to LA I might have to make a trip to see them!

Treasures of King Tut comes to LA County Museum of Art in June, then goes to other U.S. sites

Sarah Kane's "4.48 Psychosis'

What a tour de force. I came out of the theater feeling emotionally drenched with sweat from Sarah Kane's "4.48 Psychosis," which the Royal Court Theater is touring around America. In a New York Times profile of Kane, who completed this play not long before she committed suicide, her brother noted that he wanted the Royal COurt's production to be the first version American audiences saw of Kane's play (her other works are popular in colleges) and it's easy to see why.

Raw is not quite large enough a word to describe the fractured narrative, in which a single mind seems to be personified by three aspects, played by Jason Hughes, Marin Ireland, and an unbelievably affecting Jo McInnes.

The title of the play refers to the hour of the wolf when suicides often occur -- in the dark hours of the morning when life problems look the worst and most insurmountable. Far from being incoherent ravings of a madwoman, though, the monologues of 4.48 reveal the interior of an intensely intelligent, deeply feeling person.

Special kudos go to the production designers, Jeremy Herbert and Nigel Edwards, and also director James MacDonald, who bring the play to the stage with flair. Through a giant reflective canopy stretched overhead, and proections, both video and sound, we see fragments of a persona from all directions at once, creating compelling images that will stay in my mind for a long time.

Symphony Parnassus and Dead Elvis

For a little afternoon fun before the Halloween madness overtook the city, I went to hear Eric play with Symphony Parnassus in their Autumn concert at the Herbst Theater.

This fun little program featured a suite from the "Bride of Frankenstein" as well as the prelude to "Psycho," which actually is quite good, even in concert. The Dead Elvis for Bassoon and Chamber Ensemble was not my thing, but they rounded the afternoon off with a very respectable, if slow-ish reading of Berlioz's Symphony Fantastique.

Cheers to Stephen Paulsson (the Symphony's mastermind and director) for pulling their concerts together.

The Creature from the Black Lagoon -- in shocking 3-D

We celebrated Halloween with the Jazz Passengers at SF Jazz this year, and it was a total wacko, cornball treat.

The talented (really REALLY talented) seven member Passengers performed their own score PLUS slightly ad libbed dialogue to a screening of the horror classic "Creature from the Black Lagoon." And if that wasn't enough, it was shown in fabulous 3-D! I had the most fun halfway through when I took off my red/blue glasses for a moment, and looked around at the audience. There everyone sat, staring at the screen at the Palace of Fine Arts Theater, like a 1950's ad for 3-D movies.

The Jazz Passengers have a great shtick worked up for the movie, complete with little asides and "Mystery Science Theater 3000" type commentary. Amazingly, as they play, they also perform all the dialogue (in rainforest explorer-type garb, no less) and it's hilarious.

The 3-D, I was amazed to see really did work out well, particularly in sequences that were obviously filmed to give you a sense of depth. It did make my eyes tired after a while though. Like looking at the old Magic Eye prints that used to be so popular in the 1990's.

Check out How 3-D Glasses work.

Edward Villella and Alonzo King at Words on Dance

Edward Villella and Alonzo King, two rather different dance personalities, were the guests of honor at Words on Dance's program at the JCC in San Francisco. Interviewed by photographer Rose Eichenbaum, who chose both men as subjects in her new book of portraits, the two reminisced a little about their respective dance backgrounds, but mainly talked dance philosophy -- it's one of the best parts of any Words on Dance presentation when you hear this kind of stuff.

Some of my favorite quotes from the evening:

Villella: People think dance is about "the step" but it's about the continuity-- how the connection is made.

(Villella goes on to note about the safety zone that comes of just teaching technique) If you are teaching technique, then you are never wrong -- it's the student that is wrong.

Villella: There was a moment in Prodigal Son I couldn't get. In frustration, Mr B. finally said "Byzantine icons, dear, Byzantine icons." He taught me Prodigal Son in one half hour, another half hour and 45 minutes of rehearsal. Then I never saw him again. Arlene Croce once said to me, "Maybe he wanted you to show him."

The participants also occasionally quoted others:
Eliot Feld: Your creative work owes you nothing, you owe it everything.

(and my favorite) Katherine Dunham: Ask yourself who you are, what were you put here to do, and if you're not doing it, why not?

Secret in the WIngs at Berkeley Rep

"Secret in the Wings" is everything that the "Black Rider" should have been -- but sadly wasn't.

Mary Zimmerman's beautiful and luminous play has all the surrealness of a fairytale, all the incomprehensible horror and impenetrable beauty of a world seen by a child, with the kind of clean dramatic structure that should make Robert Wilson blush.

Within a series of seven nested tales, that go from the frame of an ogre's babysitting assignment, to the story of the Princess who wouldn't laugh, to a retelling of the Chldren of Lir, to some completely new tales.

With beautiful elements like the falling leaves, floating feathers from the swans, one story intertwines with another, (although in the strictest sense, they are begun, one by one, then resolved in the reverse order form which they were introduced) addressing a wide range of human experiences from love to loyalty to hatred and revenge. Zimmerman, who also directed the production, has a sure hand with the dramatic aspects, and the nine member cast obviously implicitly trusts her judgement.

Whereas Black Rider seemed to be all about hip posturing in dark clothes, "Secret in the WIngs" is lush and old fashioned-- a little corny, but unafraid of being so, as long as it can tell the story it needs to tell. Some moments are exquisitely beautiful too. On actor holds up a frame while another "sails" a model ship in the middle of the empty square space. It sounds almost ridiculous, but as it turned out in the moment, was exquisitely beautiful.

John Scofield at Yoshi's

So we trekked over to Oakland to see John Scofield's Trio last night.

What were the sounds that man was able to get out of his instrument? Was he kidding? It was a fun evening, no doubt, but I still have trouble when they wander off on little musical forays far far away from the tune.

Still, the energy in the club for the last set was high and the trio responded, kicking out versions of standards (as my husband had to explain to me) of "Perdido."

Mahler's Ninth at the SF Symphony

I love leaving a show feeling all weak-kneed and exhausted.

I don't think that before the Symphony started their Mahler cycle, I would have said, "Mahler-- What a brilliant way to show off the dynamic range and soul of your orchestra!" I'm sure my Dad would have set me straight on that point, but there's no need to do so anymore, since I have become a Mahlerian. Ever since I was shot through the stomach by the Mahler Hammer when the Symphony offered us their towering version of the Sixth, we haven't missed a one.

The Ninth, so different in tone, but more rewarding in many ways, was exquisitely rendered by the Symphony on opening night. Never has a string armada sounded so layered and rich to me, or so balanced dynamically against the wind section. The horn solos, slightly problematic at times, were nonetheless stirring, and by the time the final movement, with its whispering swells, died away, the audience was left in a puddle.

The only thing that marred an otherwise perfect performance was the presence of a patron in the orchestra with some kind of oxygen support device. Throughout the evening, the click and whoosh of the device could be heard throughout the section of the orchestra I sat in. A reminder of fragile mortality, I suppose, but in the end, one which only frustrated and irritated patrons.