It just keeps getting better
I’m pretty much a “Bah, Humbug” kind of guy, but I make a big exception for the Smuin Ballet Christmas Ballet. This is the third time I’ve written about it; it won’t be the last.
Usually we see this show at the Lesher Center, but we were out of town 3 weeks ago, so last night we saw it with Carol Sue and Sterling in the Novellus Theater in Yerba Buena Center, a 750 seat venue right downtown, across from MOMA and close to parking.
As is the custom, the two act show is divided into the “Classical Christmas” and the “Cool Christmas”. but this year the classical seemed a bit cooler than in the past. I was particularly taken, not for the first time, by “Veni, Veni, Emmanuel”, in which the corps de ballet enters in unison, six women dancing as one, with the volume on the music turned almost all the way down so you can hear the gentle sound of their feet on the wooden dance floor. I got a bonus when the lighting board burped and died, and they had to re-boot the system and start again from the top. The three or 4 minute interruption in the event was handled quickly and professionally and they show went on.
The “Cool Christmas” is always a delight, with Michael Smuin’s hilarious imagining of “Santa Baby” as a perennial highlight and my own favorite, Shannon Hurlburt in a combination of tap and Irish Step dancing to Bells of Dublin. Even the gooey “White Christmas” made joyful by the lively and enthusiastic cast.
Unfortunately, we didn’t get to see the amusing “Blue Christmas” because Jonathan Dummar, who dances Elvis, was injured. We forget that ballet dancers are also serious athletes, and injuries are common.
There was a subscriber reception afterward, and we had a hard time getting Carol Sue to stop molesting the beautiful young men. We enjoyed talking with Jane Rehm, a new member of the cast transplanted from the Memphis Ballet (Ballet in Memphis?) who had thrilled Gail during her star turn in “Patapan/God Rest Ye”.
So, to the surprise of no one, the night was a complete success. The program continues in the City until the 24th–go, enjoy, take your kids and grandkids, it’s a great introduction to ballet.
A dive gone upscale
Dinner tonight at The Town House in Emeryville with Jack and Carol.
When Gail told me where we were going, I was somewhat stunned that we were headed to a low class dive bar. What I didn’t realize was the good effects of time and gentrification.
The Town House has been a fixture in Emeryville since it started as a speakeasy in 1926. Closed a couple of times for economic or legal reasons, it went through a long period as a county/western place in the 70’s and 80’s, not quite catering to the East Bay elite. It was the sort of place with horseshoes and wagon wheels as decor and hundreds of business cards stapled to the walls.
Not anymore.
As Emeryville has gone up in social and economic status, so has The Town House. It sits less than a block from Pixar, on Doyle near Powell, and caters to the creative and upwardly mobile of the area.
An old building, a new look. Notice the huge party at the long table--not a good sign for us.
The building has been gutted, cleaned, painted, refurbished and modernized. From the street it still looks like the dump of a dive it used to be, inside all is upscale and chi-chi.
Even the waitresses are beautiful:
And she's good at her job, too.
The food is California modern, and decently prepared. The latest fad in starters seems to be avocado bruschetta: sliced avocado atop grilled bread topped with balsamic vinegar. First I’d never seen it, then it was on 3 menus in a week. It’s a lush appetizer, rich and heavy with that super-healthy avocado oil and usually more than enough to share.
You can keep telling yourself you're eating this for your health.
While I ate bruschetta, everyone else ate Ceasar salad. Jack and Gail both had the beef stroganoff, leaving no leftovers. I enjoyed the chicken fettucine, Carol had the Coho Salmon. We all enjoyed our meals–decent portions, reasonable prices, attractive presentations.
What we didn’t enjoy was the noise level. Perhaps it is the room, perhaps it was the 2 large parties that filled the room with well-lubricated people, but we had a very hard time communicating–the bad thing about too much noise is that you have to shout to be heard over it, and that raises the noise level, so everybody else shouts, and it just keeps getting louder.
Service was good, but large parties clog up a kitchen and it took quite a while for our entrees to come out. So long that we missed the movie we had intended to see. It’s the Christmas season, the restaurant is in a largely industrial/office area and there are lots of office parties happening. That’s life.
So we left The Town House and headed out for dessert. I won’t bore you with how good the trifle was at Origen tonight. And quiet there, too.
Half-glass service
Dinner with the girls tonight–our monthly meal with Margaret and Barbara.
Margaret took us first to the Albany Library, where there is an exhibition of infra-red photography by a friend of hers, James Callahan. If he had a website, I’d link to a picture to show you, but he doesn’t.
So trust me–these photos are different and interesting. Infra-red photos are black and white, but things items are light or dark relative to how much infra-red light they reflect. Foliage is almost completely white, the sky is very dark. You recognize everything by its shape, but it looks strange, eerie and out of place.
Okay, here’s an infra-red image I found online, just to demonstrate (not the work of Margaret’s friend):
Just an example of infra-red photography--very white foliage, very dark sky, eerie and unnatural feeling.
After we enjoyed the exhibit, we went to the Solano Grill and Bar for dinner, and had yet another experience of ‘the customer is always wrong’ service.
Dinner was decent. The great chefs of Michelin-starred establishments aren’t getting nervous, but we had no complaints. I enjoyed my salmon, and particularly the sweet potato puree, which is the $6 was to say mashed sweet potatoes.
Margaret had a martini. She wanted a little more, but not another full glass. So we asked for half a martini–and were turned down, flat. “We can’t do that”, as though there was an 11th commandment, Thou shalt not pour less than a full marti.
We wanted dessert. We (Gail/Barbara) wanted another glass of wine. We wanted decent service.
And yet, for want of the willingness to pour a short drink, we had none of those things. At least at the Solano Grill and Bar.
We got in the car. We drove to Origen. We ordered a half martini.
Just a half a martini--all it takes to keep the customer satisfied.
And with our half-martini, we had three desserts, a glass of sauvignon blanc and an iced tea, dropping another $35 or $40 that the first place could have had, if only they had been willing to accommodate a grandmother by making a short drink. This might explain why we were the only customers for dinner tonight. Tomorrow, they may not have any customers at all; we sure won’t be back.
Art in the Big City
This piece is titled "Trade". Gail watched it come together last week in the artists studio.
We have friends. Our friends have friends, and that’s how a social circle grows.
Last week, while I was flailing miserably in Seattle, Gail and our friend, artist Harry Siter went to see a friend of his, Doug Schneider. Doug is an artist, too, and was frantically putting the final touches on the work that would comprise his opening of a solo show at the Caldwell Snyder Gallery in San Francisco.
Doug and a young art fan
Doug paints in oils, and he was working so close to the deadline that many of the paintings were still wet, and the air was redolent with paint thinner.
The Dreamers.
If you’re wondering what all this means, here’s what the artist has to say about his work:
My work is based on self exploration and historical archaeology. Autobiographical references are blended with contemporary and historical photographs to arrive at a recognizable universality. I use non-sequential relationships, separating cause from effect in order to deal with clusters of thoughts and ideas, rather than presenting linear narratives.
Delicately drawn figures of animals and objects are layered over expressive, sometimes violent brushstrokes. Elements of duality are found throughout the paintings. I play with seeming opposites, some of which are readily apparent, some obscure. For example, the opposite of abstract expressionism might be a delicate line drawing to offset the original bravado of the brushstroke. I’m constantly Looking for imagery or styles of painting that seem to oppose the last image or style. The use of push-pull dynamics and the occasional use of illusionistic perspective against raw expressionistic brushwork gives the impression of being able to look deep into the canvas only to be thrust back to the surface.
The work deals with the role of the artist as well as with the subject matter itself. Painting is a medium of subjective representation. Different idioms carry different powers according to their placement in art historically.
(Okay, this is the start of his statement. The rest of it is here)
"Destiny".
"Family Vacation"
"Angel"
This is serious art. You won’t find this kind of work at a street fair or charity gala. Doug studied at California College of Art, has taught life drawing, makes a career out of taking the cobwebby corners of his mind and putting them on canvas. The price tag for this is sort of mid-range, as art goes. It isn’t the $100 work offered on the walls of your local coffee shop, it isn’t the multi-million dollar treasure you’d find in New York or Art Basel Miami. These paintings are in the $10–20,000 range, which is pretty tall cotton but not the exclusive nosebleed territory of Arab sheiks and internet zillionaires.
Caldwell Snyder is a very professional operation on Sutter Street, not quite next door to Wilkes Bashford. We got an email first thing this morning thanking us for coming, and including a photo of the piece Gail liked the most, not that we’re really in the market for expensive oils this century.
After the show we went across the street to E and O Trading Company for a raucous meal with Harry and Michael and three other artist friends. The food isn’t all the great, the service was pretty slow but that might be because they were completely jammed on a Friday night, but we had a good time and what else really matters?
Art in Walnut Creek
A high class photo exhibit right here in town.
Facebook is good for a lot of things; much more than just keeping up with friends. I have “liked” the Bedford Gallery, in the Lesher Center in Walnut Creek, and thus I get to see when a new exhibit is opening. Like last night.
The new exhibit, Snap, is in two parts–a juried show, which drew artists from all over the country, and a special show of work by Brett Weston.
There must be a ton of people who follow the Bedford on Facebook, because the place was packed. The $5 they wanted to get in, and drink and eat to one’s hearts content, was well worth it. The $10 they wanted for a stapled together exhibit catalog was unreasonable, and they have plenty left if you want one.
The swirling mob
The art was nicely displayed--not too close, in good relation to each other
The juried show was in three sections–landscapes, portraiture and conceptual/abstract. Landscapes don’t usually do much for me, so I don’t have much to say. The portrait work was excellent– a great portrait shows you something about who the person is, not just what they look like.
These Jeff Castleman photos were classified with the portraits, but might have been considered conceptual work, too.
The conceptual/abstract work is difficult to judge–you either get the idea, or you don’t, and if you don’t there just isn’t anything there for you. Some I did, some I didn’t, that’s life in the gallery going business.
On to the Weston exhibit.
For four years in Miramonte High School, I sat behind Bruce Paltenghi. We might not have been the best of friends, but I know the back of his head awfully well.
This good looking guy sat in front of me in math and English class
He must have studied harder than I did, but then everyone did that. He still practices law, but invests and deals in art on the side. He even has an art website, Paltfineart.com
Okay, the point of this is that he has an amazing collection of the work of Brett Weston (son of Edward), much of which is on display at the Bedford, too. Brett follows in his fathers footsteps with wonderful, luminous prints, although he tends more to landscape and still life. His nudes are abstract, unlike the emotive photos his father took of Tina Modotti in the desert.
So that what’s going on right here, right now. Great art you don’t have to go to the city to look at. Or buy–it’s all for sale, with a portion of the proceeds going to help sustain the gallery. Give it a look.
The excitement is building
Ten days from now we’re off to Vietnam and Cambodia for a tour and cruise down the Mekong river. I didn’t have any interest in going there in 1970, but now seems like a good time.
We’ll be travelling with Micky and Linda, as well as Don and Linda Mamula, so the laughter should keep going for the entire trip.
I found this video of Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon) traffic, and thought it was a great introduction to what we’ll be seeing:
Now I’m really depressed
I’m sitting in Sea-Tac waiting for my flight home when Gail sends me this screenshot of her computer.
While I’ve traveled a thousand miles and spent days in a hotel, she’s at home, playing BBO in her Jammie’s and winning more points with a 73% game with a pickup partner.
Arrrrrrrrrrrrgh.
Incomprehensible
Somebody spent a lot of time and money creating this
At any NABC, the walls are decorated with banners advertising the upcoming NABC’s. This is the banner for the Vegas nationals in 2014.
Bridge players are an educated and intelligent lot. How did this get produced?
What is the meaning of the word “Flare”? Why is it here?
Is the tournament going to flare up like a grease fire in a dirty kitchen?
Is it going to flare out like a pair of bell bottom pants from the ’60s?
Is this an emergency flare seeking help from a competent graphic artist?
Do they really mean “Flair” as in stylish or chic?
Vegas is a crass, tacky and tasteless town; that’s why we love it. But it’s usually a competent crass, tacky and tasteless town. This banner fails to meet that standard, and makes me worry about how the entire event will be run.
That’s the news and I am outta here
Maybe I just had too much fun. Maybe not. But I’m going home on the early flight Sunday morning, skipping out on the last day of the NABC. I know, it sounds heretical, but you can only lose for so long before it starts to eat your soul. And something’s eating my soul with ketchup and pickles right about now.
We played in the North American Swiss on Friday, starting out with a bang and then just tapering off into oblivion. We could have gotten our Q if it had been possible for Mike to make the slam he audaciously bid on the very last hand, but possible wasn’t in the cards.
Today we played in the KO event, sort of the loser KO for non-qualifiers. Went down in ignominious flames.
Then we played in the loser loser Swiss, the last bastion of hope to salvage some pride and masterpoints for our team. Won 2, lost 2, no glory.
We could play tomorrow, but I wanted to play pairs so we would be finished earlier and not have to worry about making the plane. Micky didn’t want to play pairs, and decided to leave early. That motivated me to change my flight and head home to my sweetie. A much better choice, I should think, than watching the sad disintegration of the tournament as they are breaking down the tables all around you while you play.
At least dinner was good. We went to Von’s Roast House, where they feature roasts of all kinds, and 1000 kinds of liquor. The liquor doesn’t interest me, but the prime rib was good.
The walls of Von's are decorated with an amazing collection of beer pulls
All the walls. I never knew beer pulls were an art form
Prime Rib, onion rings, chopped salad. That's fresh horseradish grated on top of the meat.
Tom the healthy eater had the salmon–always a good choice around here. You just can’t hope to operate a Seattle restaurant without a really good salmon on the menu.
That's one beautiful piece of fish
Von’s is right downtown Seattle, across from the mall and Barneys, near Nordstrom and all the other good stores. The streets were full of people doing their Christmas shopping and looking at all the decorations and events. The mall somehow makes it snow indoors, which delight the adults and amazes the kiddies, of whom there seem to be thousands.
These people are having a drink outdoors. It was 37 degrees. I don't get it.
Even the street performers are getting in the mood.
Santa Claus and the little drummer boy rolled into one.
I saw lots of people in the hotel who looked as though they had come to the big city for a weekend of shopping, carrying five and six bags from as many different stores.
——————
I love NABC’s, the [what’s the word for three times a year?] meeting of my group of friends from around the country and around the world. I like the big-boy bridge, I like the socializing, I like the politicking, I like seeing the different cities.
I like it better when I win something. I played OK but not great, my partners and teammates would probably say the same. If you don’t play great, you need luck, and we had precious little of that, losing one match after the opponents mis-bid to a bad slam that made.
The local group did a great job. The events were well run (except for the incredible slowness of the pairing in the North American Swiss), there was hospitality, there were gifts (we all love swag), there was everything but success at the table, and that’s not their fault.
Another NABC is in the books. Next stop, Memphis in March. That will be worth the trip just to go back to the Civil Rights Museum and the Rock and Soul Museum. I’ll play better, I just know I will.
Another one bites the dust
The main image from the Herminators new web site, TheCainSolutions.com, where he'll tell us how to run the country. Oh boy.
Mike Bandler sent me this today:
December 2, 2011
A Farewell from Herman Cain: My Final Thoughts
Dear Friend,
And when I say “friend,” I mean it in the normal way, not “someone I’ve been sleeping with for 13 years.” Unless, of course, I have been sleeping with you for 13 years. In that case, I do mean it that way.
It is with a heavy heart that I have decided to end my inspirational quest for the White House. After much reassessing and reconsidering, I have decided to spend more time being screamed at by my wife. And by “more time,” I mean 24 hours a day, stopping only for bathroom breaks.
But before I go, let me share with you my final thoughts on my campaign.
After months of crisscrossing this great land of ours and participating in over three hundred televised debates, I am being disqualified because of an extramarital affair. And that raises the following question: are you fucking kidding me?
I mean, let’s get real. I never heard of Libya. I didn’t know whether that CNN dude’s name was Wolf or Blitz. And my only training for running the #1 nation in the world was running its #8 pizza chain. Yet none of that, I repeat, none of that disqualified me. In fact, I was the front-fucking-runner, as long as I kept my 9-9-9 in my pants. (I have no idea what I meant by that — I just like saying 9-9-9.)
But here’s the part that really kills me. You’re kicking me to the curb because I was messing around, and instead you’re going with… Newt Gingrich? I repeat: are you fucking kidding me? Oh, I know what you’re saying: you love Newt because he’s an “intellectual.” Well, Newt Gingrich is the intellectual of the Republican field the way Moe was the intellectual of the Stooges.
And that leads me to my final point: you disgust me, America. Right now if I had my way, I’d up and move to another country. I really, truly would. Only I don’t know where any of them are, and my wife won’t let me leave the house.
Goodbye forever,
Herman
So now we’re sort of down to two–Mittens and Newty. Surely there is someone who identifies as Republican who is more capable of maintaining a consistent position, demonstrating consistent ethical behavior, providing a coherent foreign policy and articulating an economic policy more well thought out than “Obama bad, me good”. Isn’t there? Somebody? Anybody?
Totally Unauthorized 