July 7: Surprise Me Mr. Davis at the Mystic Theatre

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Six years ago, Boston was a tough place to be if you were a single guy. On Valentine’s Day, the blizzard of 2003 struck, and those without a loved one to cuddle up to—like Nathan Moore, Brad Barr, Marc Friedman and Andrew Barr—had to make do with instruments. At the end of the week, the four had self-recorded a debut album under the strange name Surprise Me Mr. Davis. With direct comparisons made to the Band’s Music from Big Pink, the record took off on the Americana and jam-band scene; think Wilco vs. the Kinks, with classic songwriting like “I Hate Love” and “How Stupid I Am.” They appear with special guest Marco Benevento, a stellar avant-garde New York jazz pianist, on Tuesday, July 7, at the Mystic Theatre. 21 Petaluma Blvd. N., Petaluma. 8:30pm. $15. 707.765.2121.Gabe Meline

July 7: Andy Raskin at Book Passage

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Well, you know, it happens. Men have affairs. Men like NPR commentator Andy Raskin have affairs, even when they don’t really know that they’re having affairs. What’s a guy to do? When Raskin entered therapy to straighten out his sexual urges and was recommended to find a “higher power,” Raskin decided his higher power was ramen noodles. In his memoir, The Ramen King and I: How the Inventor of Instant Noodles Fixed My Love Life, Raskin details his search for Momofuku Ando, the inventor of the instant noodle and the Nissin products founder. Along the way, the search for Raskin’s missing inner monogamist plays out in an offbeat but memorable story, involving revelations about Ando’s life that mirror his own. A funeral at a baseball stadium closes the journey, but ramen will live forever. Raskin appears to discuss the book on Tuesday, July 7, at Book Passage. 51 Tamal Vista Blvd., Corte Madera. 7pm. Free. 415.927.0960.Gabe Meline

July 5: Tiffany at RiverSpace

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As if the events of the last week haven’t brought up enough stories from the 1980s pop-music world, teen star and ’80s icon Tiffany makes a return appearance to the shores of the Russian River this weekend. Since dominating school dances over 20 years ago, Tiffany’s sung country music in Nashville, posed nude in Playboy and evolved into a gay icon, making the rounds of LGBT festivals coast to coast. But it’s because of her girlish charm and her hits—“I Think We’re Alone Now” and “I Saw Him Standing There,” both covers, as well as her tear-jerker anthem “Could’ve Been”—that we remember her most. She gets the neon jelly bracelet crowd hot and bothered on Sunday, July 5, at RiverSpace. 16135 Main St., Guerneville. 9pm. $15–$20. 707.869.0691.Gabe Meline

July 2: Spencer Day at the Napa Valley Opera House

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Staring into his own reflection backstage in his dressing room at the Napa Valley Opera House, Spencer Day couldn’t believe his luck. He’d flown in from L.A. that morning after being asked to open for Rufus Wainwright, and he, with only a guitarist as accompaniment, walked out onto the stage—and completely captivated the crowd. Day’s vocal style is swinging and easy but technically precise, not unlike Harry Connick Jr., and his songs are such enjoyable vignettes that being taken in by his charm and tenderness is as easy as watching an old Grace Kelly movie—“The Last Train to New Jersey” is a good place to start. Wainwright was great that night in Napa, but Day was the real discovery. He makes a return appearance to charm his new fans with a special CD release concert for his new album, Vagabond, on Thursday, July 2, at the Napa Valley Opera House. 1030 Main St., Napa. 8pm. $30. 707.226.7372.Gabe Meline

Killing Bruce Willis

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07.01.09

By now, everyone has heard the tale. The drama is over, Bruce is OK, my insurance paid for the limo, the paparazzi circus that invaded Sonoma has moved on, and I’m no longer looking at extensive jail time.

But it was touch-and-go there at first. Nearly killing a celebrity is bad on a number of levels. First, you’re immediately guilty and everyone hates you, and second, Bruce Willis is not someone you want pissed off at you.

The idea was hatched about a month before the Sonoma Valley Film Festival this April. I wanted my high school art class to study environmental artists: Andy Goldworthy, Christo, Keith Haring, etc. I had students learn about each artist and produce reports on their favorite. I figured a great final would be the creation of a 10-foot-high “SONOMAWOOD” sign to be erected in the hills behind the plaza during the film festival. It would be a rip-off of the “HOLLYWOOD” sign, welcoming all to our little town. Ridiculous, educational, fun—my students loved it. After two weeks of sawing and hammering, we had the letters finished.

There were three spots in the hills where I wanted to put the letters. One was on county land, one in the cemetery and one in public open-space. I had begun the process of getting permission a month previous, but even with the backing of a local supervisor, the mayor and most of the city council, no approval had been granted. “Just put them up” was the advice I received from a number of people, but I figured that since it was a school project, I should keep it legal.

My next idea was to put the sign on the grass in front of the Sonoma Community Center, but the executive director told me that it wouldn’t be fair to other artists to simply put up my piece when others had to go through an application-approval process. We were short on time.

A week before the festival, I was sitting in the plaza and looked over at the Sebastiani Theatre and thought, “Perfect.” The Sebastiani is the main movie house for the film festival and the owner is a friend of mine. He was game after we came up with a way to secure the letters.

We waited until Wednesday to put the letters up, because I wanted it to be a surprise. It took six of us three hours to haul them up the side fire escape and secure them, but when we were done, we knew we had created something good. The only problem was the split in the front façade on the roof. The building has two vertical towers, so the letters had to be split, “SONO” on the left, “MA” in the middle, and “WOOD” on the right. It looked great from below but the “A” was a little angled because the base was blocked by a pipe. I solved the problem with a length of rope.

It looked great towering over the Sebastiani Theatre. In the evening, the moving spotlights hit the letters from left to right. It was right above where the VIP’s were dropped off for special events.

Bruce Willis was in town for a superstar tour of Sonoma. I had just interviewed him during the VIP dinner at Estate, where I kept hounding him with quick comparisons: Suits or jeans? Foie gras or peanut butter? New York or LA? Pot or booze?

I trailed Bruce around, but to be honest, I was as interested in the free booze and food as I was in Bruce. But he seemed to be entertained by my line of questioning. That became important later, as it kept him from being guillotined.

After the VIP party, I followed Bruce and his limo to the Sebastiani. Half drunk on free beer, I wasn’t satisfied with the results of my “interview.” The wind was howling. When I approached the theater, I realized there was no easy way to get to Bruce. A red carpet was rolled out and an area sectioned off so Bruce could go from limo to destination with little interference. The spotlights were illuminating the sign perfectly. I parked and headed into the melee. It looked like a scene from the Oscars, as paparazzi flashed their cameras and yelled to get Bruce’s attention.

The limo was out front; Bruce got out first, opening the door for his new wife. I yelled, “Lakers or Nets?” He stopped, turned around with his famous smirk and said, “Celtics, baby.” He waved to the crowd as I heard a loud crack from above.

Everyone looked up as the “A” fell forward, off the roof, its point aiming right at Bruce. He looked up just as the tip sliced through the cartilage of his nose. The letter hit the ground and fell onto his limo, which his wife had luckily crowded back into. Bruce grabbed his nose. Blood shot through his fingers. Everyone converged. I was worried that a second letter would release so I scaled the fire escape to check. Someone saw me from below, illuminated by the spotlight (“California Teacher Tries to Kill Bruce Willis”), and figured I had intentionally released the letter. The police raced to the roof and had me in cuffs before I knew what was going on. I kept repeating, “But I saved his life, if he hadn’t stopped to answer my question . . .” It was true, but nobody would listen.

Initial reports in the tabloids were overblown. The headline “John Moss in Love Triangle with Demi and Ashton” was just ridiculous.

 

But Bruce still has not contacted me. His lawyers sent me a contract to sign explaining that I could not talk to any media about the incident; also, I am not allowed to benefit financially from the incident or talk about Mr. Willis’ injury to anyone. I can only assume that he, like me, wants to put the whole thing behind him. But when he calls, I’ll ask him, “Hey Bruce, Moss or Bobbit?”

 John Moss wrote the strange and savage tale of a field trip gone south for our Jan. 9, 2009 issue.

Open Mic is now a weekly feature in the Bohemian. We welcome your contribution. To have your topical essay of 700 words considered for publication, write mailto:op*****@******an.com” data-original-string=”Ats40+4hEPv7/3PEa1KDQg==06axz/RiRgXt3BN02p+budS4F4R1ihwDwde2nzUxSbsaog8lhz11YhxuxW6nOfJPIgtBeptxGYpCxoUg6PCSRMemg==” title=”This contact has been encoded by Anti-Spam by CleanTalk. Click to decode. To finish the decoding make sure that JavaScript is enabled in your browser. 

 


Let There Be Rock

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07.01.09

The seven girls are sprawled on couches, gabbing about their favorite bands. Some describe themselves as emo, others as punk, goth or ska. One girl wears red plaid plants, knee-high black boots, a Rancid T-shirt. Another is timid, wearing a plain oversized black sweatshirt and shorts. A soft-spoken girl says she loves to wear costumes, especially tiaras. Instantly, a small blond girl next to her exclaims, “Are you going to make me wear a tiara?!”

This is the first day of Femme Rockage, a free workshop at Petaluma’s Phoenix Theater where young girls can learn from seasoned female instructors how to be in a band, doing everything from playing different instruments to writing their own songs, silkscreening merch and marketing themselves. This one-and-a-half-week summer workshop is just one of the many workshops the Phoenix Theater has to offer at its grandly named Phoenix School of Music. Upcoming workshops are free and open to everyone—an enriching and invaluable resource for the community.

Although different, these girls, between the ages of 12 and 16, all have their love for music and a desire to create their own in common. Some like to draw, some to sing, and one girl has a binder full of lyrics she has written under her bed at home. An eccentric girl, decked out in a turquoise shirt and long skirt, who wants to be a volleyball player, announces, “I usually write songs about how I want people to die, but I think people could really rock out to them.”

After a get-to-know-each-other meeting in the theater lobby, it’s upstairs to the studio, full of guitars, amps, basses and a drum set. The girls scatter and eventually settle down in a circle with instruments in hand. Instructors and local musicians make the rounds to help them set up. The girls plug their guitars and basses into amps; they learn to tune their instruments, and they all sit patiently, anxious to play.

Emily, age 13 but “almost 14,” is at the drum set. She has never played before; she is here because she has “always wanted to play.” Gabby La La, the multi-instrumentalist and touring member of Les Claypool’s band, teaches her a beat. Emily beams and pounds away. The others begin; the room slowly fills with a raw melodic sound, and their first Femme Rockage jam session has begun. Their bodies start to loosen with the music, their serious mouths stretch into grins. A quiet redheaded girl standing slightly to the side comes closer and starts to sing a melody. It all works, and the band digs it.

Downstairs, music is coming from backstage. The Lipstik Prophesees, another Femme Rockage group, is rocking. In unison, they start playing the Ramones’ “Blitzkreig Bop,” which melds into Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” When finished, the girls are thrilled, smiling and let out a chorused “Yeah!” They seem elated from playing these songs, but the atmosphere becomes serious. The instructors invite them to talk about creating their own music while using songs like the ones they just played for inspiration. The girls agree and get started on their own sound.

On the agenda for the next day is band T-shirts. The students are instructed to think about logos; instantly four girls eagerly raise their hands. “Ooooh, ooooh, I’m an artist!” one says. “Me too!” interjects another. It’s going to be an energy-filled week.

 

The Phoenix School of Music’s female instructors are the living embodiment of the skills taught at Femme Rockage. Along with Gabby La La, Lauren Harkins (pianist of Not to Reason Why), Colie Sutter (bassist of Uterus Kin), Emily Whitehurst (vocalist for Tsunami Bomb and the Action Design) are all talented and dynamic women who have played the Phoenix Theater stage many times over. The course also comes with a brochure with testimonials from other women musicians about finding their own voice, their own confidence and their own talent.

The motto of Femme Rockage is “to rock with love, honesty and integrity.” Most importantly, these no-cost classes are open to anyone. As the code of rockage declares, rockage is “recognizing the infinity and beauty of music as an art, a language, an idea and a way of life.” 

For more information about the Phoenix School of Music, the Phoenix Art Program, the Phoenix Health Clinic or even a good old-fashioned list of upcoming concerts, see www.thephoenixtheater.com.


Grow a Spine!

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Postcards from the Outraged

07.01.09

Ellen Augustine has helped spread over 35,000 pies around the country, and they are all very, very flat—in fact, they’re no more than postcards depicting pie charts of U.S. budget spending.

On a recent visit with Augustine, I ask what she hopes to achieve with her postcards. “See this?” she says, tapping her finger on the red-and-green pie chart image. “Since the Vietnam War, almost half our discretionary spending has gone to the military, and it’s bankrupting us.” Augustine reaches into her bag and hands me a postcard with the heading “U.S. Budget Priorities” and a spending chart that makes me wince. Nothing like a picture to tell the truth. Under the chart is a web address that resonates with my reaction to the graphic: NotMyPriorities.org.

I flip the card over. It is pre-addressed to the White House, with the following text: Dear President Obama: We need to defend ourselves, but this kind of spending on the military is bankrupting our country financially and morally. Following this text is a fill-in-the-blanks box with three blank spaces under the heading “My funding priorities.” Wow. No one has ever asked me what I would spend that money on.

Augustine’s postcards have been so eagerly received that households have hosted “pie parties” at which Augustine and campaign partner Barry Hermanson explain how a simple postcard can help puncture bloated military spending.   “The beauty of this campaign,” says Augustine, reading my mind, “is how people can state their priorities simply. Millions of these cards will go to the White House—and then the next phase will be also thousands sent to individual representatives and senators, who vote on the budget.”

Augustine’s gripe is the fact that there is never significant opposition to military funding from elected officials. Last year, only 39 of the 435 members of the House of Representatives and only eight of 100 Senators voted against increasing the Pentagon budget. “It’s ridiculous how many big fights there are in Congress over allocating spending for green jobs and education amounting to a few billion,” says Augustine, “when military appropriations close to $700 billion pass with very little debate or discussion.”

Part of the Not My Priorities campaign aims to educate the public about military overspending, including studies which show that investment in green industries results in 30 to 100 percent more jobs per dollar than investment in military industries. The campaign presumes a shared value among people who would rather support their families working in green jobs than in military jobs. One campaign goal is to make Americans aware that this country’s spending on military is way out of proportion with that of the rest of the world.

“As insular Americans, we aren’t aware that we spend as much on military as the rest of the world spends combined,” said Augustine. “And much of it is wasteful spending. We have between 750 and a thousand military bases in over a hundred countries in the world, many of which do not want or need us there any more. President Obama and the Secretary of Defense have made a list of several [obsolete] high-tech weapons systems they’d like to eliminate which would reduce the budget by billions.”

 

Anger about bloated military spending is nonpartisan. In these budget-conscious times, the organizers of Not My Priorities claim that their U.S. budget pie chart has outraged people on both sides of the political fence and even apolitical people.

“We the people need to take action for the common good,” affirms Augustine. “And we need to do it for ourselves and for people we will never meet, who will never thank us or give us a birthday present.”

To acquire postcards, make a contribution or to host a “pie party” at home, email Augustine at el************@*******nk.net or Barry Hermanson at ba***@************on.org.


Wilco (the review)

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07.01.09

It’s fitting that former Wilco band member and songwriter Jay Bennett’s fatal overdose came just a month before this week’s Wilco (the album) . While it’s still the pretentious hipster move to say that a band “hasn’t been the same” since a certain member left, many fans certainly feel that way about Jay Bennett and Wilco. After all, Bennett’s last work with the group was their modern masterpiece Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, released in 2002. Their latest record, Sky Blue Sky, was so soft-classic-rock and bland that expectations for the new album are decidedly low.

Thankfully, Wilco (the album) is a pleasant surprise. In an unwitting tribute to their days with Bennett, the band’s seventh record harks back to their subterranean heyday, albeit in more polished form. “Wilco (the song)” opens with a funky piano riff which recalls “Can’t Stand It” from Summerteeth and a sense of humor that wipes away Sky‘s sterile sincerity. “Have you had enough of the old / Put on your headphones,” Tweedy sings, as if in a ’60s bubblegum group. Then the chorus: “Oh, oh, oh, Wilco, Wilco / Wilco will love you, baby.”

 

While there are still clunkers, like the sleep-inducing “Country Disappeared” or “One Wing,” the album’s duds are adjacent to songs like “Bull Black Nova,” a slow-building prog-rocker that finally utilizes Nels Cline’s eccentric guitar mastery, ending the song in a Sonic Youth shred fest alongside Tweedy’s yelp. The piano, sounding like the E Street Band’s Danny Federici, makes a welcome return alongside Cline’s wailing slide work in the George Harrison&–like centerpiece “You Never Know,” an anthem for the times: “Every generation thinks it’s the worst, thinks it’s the end of the world,” Tweedy sings before declaring in the chorus, “I don’t care anymore.”

Sadly, the duet with Feist,” You and I,” barely reaches cutesy She & Him level, but we finally get country-rock Wilco songs for the first time since the Being There LP in “I’ll Fight” and the honky-tonk of “Sunny Feeling.” While the record’s improved lyrics still don’t reach Tweedy’s previous narrative heights, it’s good to hear the group experimenting again—and that Tweedy’s loosening the creative reigns on Nels Cline. Starting now, I’m officially anticipating “Wilco (the return).”


Page Turner

07.01.09

Less than 10 minutes after Treehorn Books in downtown Santa Rosa has opened its doors for the day, a few eager booklovers have already begun to roam the store. Some are seated in the middle of aisles and perusing floor shelves, while others work through sections, letting their fingers occasionally drift over a book or two.

Co-owner Michael Stephens stands on a small stool and rearranges a stack of natural history and travel books at an effortless pace as he talks, gazing at the jam-packed shelf for a few moments before plucking a book adorned with a picture of the California coast out of the lineup and inserting a new title in its place. He adjusts the organization of paperbacks and hardbacks almost instinctively, stacking books evenly to the ceiling. The crinkle of dust jackets fades into the peaceful background sounds of the store, and snippets of conversation drift in and around the maze of shelves.

“See, we were always book people, not businessmen,” Stephens says of his partnership with Keith Hotaling, a fellow bibliophile. The two joined forces in 1979 to found Treehorn, Sonoma County’s answer to a literary treasure trove, banking on their intuition rather than any kind of business know-how. The two Bay Area locals modeled their bookish enterprise after secondhand booksellers around Berkeley, he explains, offering Pegasus Fine Books as an example.

“We wanted to be a secondhand bookstore that sold books relatively inexpensively with a huge variety of topics and a willingness to take a chance on anything that seemed interesting or unusual,” he says. “That was our definition, and we have stuck to it ever since we opened the store.”

This persistent dedication to finding unique content has been a lucky charm for the independent bookstore (“If it’s a book that I see in every bookstore, I don’t want it. We like the unusual and the odd”), allowing Stephens and Hotaling to avoid the sometimes cutthroat war between chain bookstores like Barnes and Noble and Borders.

“It’s just a totally different mindset,” says Stephens. “To me, the problem with stores like that is that they’re selling books, but they might as well be selling nuts and bolts or auto parts or something like that. They don’t get as much of a thrill out of the discovery of books that is the natural component of someone who owns a secondhand bookstore.”

A giddy and somewhat dreamy smile spreads across his face as he shakes his head. “I’ve seen a lot of books in my day, and when I see something interesting that I’ve never seen before—nothing thrills me more than finding a book like that. Nothing. That, to me, is as good as it gets.”

Though there always seems to be a steady stream of customers wandering through the stacks at Treehorn, Stephens insists the bookselling business is on the decline, just like any other business in an economic downturn.

“In a recession, people will bargain hunt, but the store doesn’t just cater to bargain hunters,” Stephens says. “We also sell collectors’ items and first editions—expensive books—which really dies when there’s any kind of economic downturn. So while you may pick up a little bit in the bargain category, you lose as much in specialty.”

The prices of books are hitting rock bottom, he says, and online bookstores like Amazon are becoming an easy and cheap way to shop for literature. In the long run, however—here Stephens waves a hand around his shop—physically browsing for a book can’t be beat.

“Amazon is handy, and certainly a serious competitor of the retail bookstore, but it also has extreme limitations,” he says as he flips a book over to examine the back cover. “A large chunk of our customers want and collect books on particular subjects—let’s just say the Civil War. There are a lot of books on the Civil War. Some of them may be of interest to them, and many of them won’t, and they’re not going to know that until they see it and hold it in their hands.”

The luxury of viewing thousands of entries through Amazon also takes away a taste of the unknown that many customers find irresistible, he adds. “Nothing beats poking around in a used bookstore, looking for books in your subject that you don’t even know exist,” Stephens says. “Amazon’s useless for that.”

And the Kindle? The handheld digital book—along with talk of the extinction of printed product—has recently been making waves in the publishing industry, but Stephens makes it clear he doesn’t see technology toppling the book trade anytime soon.

“I don’t see it happening at all. There was the exact same kind of talk about record albums when CDs came out,” he says, “and books have been around a lot longer than any kind of [recorded] music.”He stops and scans the worn covers and book spines. “Plus,” he adds, “people like them. I don’t know what the size of a Kindle screen will end up being, but I don’t think looking at that and looking at a nice, big oversized art book is ever going to equate.”Stephens diverts from the conversation momentarily and begins the story of the greatest used book find of his life. While at an East Bay rummage sale 10 years ago, he stumbled upon 500 boxes of neatly packed books from the 1950s and ’60s, all in mint condition. He spent all day perusing the gems—”We’re talking Kurt Vonnegut’s first novels,” he says—and walked out with 50 boxes of books that found a home on Treehorn’s shelves.

“Independent bookstores are just more interesting,” Stephens says, coming back to the present and picking up the stack of books he has finished switching out. “If you were to ask people across the Bay Area what the best thing about this store is, I think one of the things that they would say is that you just never know what you’re going to find in here. I take that as an enormous compliment.”

Treehorn Books is only one in a lengthy list of independent and secondhand bookstores in Northern California, a network that, despite all the recession woes, is alive and well.

“For not being in a big major city, there are damn few areas like this that could rival the book community that Sonoma County has. We’re happy to be a part of that,” Stephens says.

Leaving the store, squinting a bit in the sun, the smell of old pages lingering for a few seconds, there’s a palpable understanding that nothing beats a new book—except an old one.

Treehorn Books is located at 625 Fourth St., Santa Rosa. 707.525.1782.

Other Bookstores to Love

Book Passage 51 Tamal Vista Blvd., Corte Madera. 707.927.0960.

Books Wanted 540 Raley’s Towne Center, Rohnert Park. www.bookswanted.com.

Booksmith’s New & Used Books 615 San Anselmo Ave., San Anselmo. 707.459.7323.

Chanticleer Books 127 E. Napa St., Sonoma. 707.996.7613.

Copperfield’s Books Locations in: Santa Rosa (2316 Montgomery Drive; 707.578.8938), Healdsburg (104 Matheson St.; 707.433.9270), Petaluma (140 Kentucky St.; 707.762.0563), Sebastopol (138 N. Main St.; 707.823.2618), Calistoga (1330 Lincoln Ave.; 707.942.1616) and Napa (3900-A Bel Aire Plaza, Highway 29 at Trancas Street; 707.252.8002).

Depot Bookstore & Cafe 87 Throckmorton Ave., Mill Valley. 707.383.2665.

North Light Books & Cafe 550 E. Cotati Ave., Cotati. 707.792.4300.

Open Secret Bookstore 923 C St., San Rafael. 707.457.4191.

Point Reyes Books 11315 State Route 1, Pt. Reyes Station. 707.663.1542.

Rebound Book Store 1541 Fourth St., San Rafael. 707.482.0550.

Readers’ Books 130 E. Napa St., Sonoma. 707.939.1779.

River Reader 16355 Main St., Guerneville. 707.869.2240.

Twice Told Books 14045 Armstrong Woods Road, Guerneville. 707.869.1479.

Whyte’s Booksmith 615 San Anselmo Ave., San Anselmo. 707.459.7323.

—C.L.


Museums and gallery notes.

Reviews of new book releases.

Reviews and previews of new plays, operas and symphony performances.

Reviews and previews of new dance performances and events.

July 7: Surprise Me Mr. Davis at the Mystic Theatre

Six years ago, Boston was a tough place to be if you were a single guy. On Valentine’s Day, the blizzard of 2003 struck, and those without a loved one to cuddle up to—like Nathan Moore, Brad Barr, Marc Friedman and Andrew Barr—had to make do with instruments. At the end of the week, the four had self-recorded a...

July 7: Andy Raskin at Book Passage

Well, you know, it happens. Men have affairs. Men like NPR commentator Andy Raskin have affairs, even when they don’t really know that they’re having affairs. What’s a guy to do? When Raskin entered therapy to straighten out his sexual urges and was recommended to find a “higher power,” Raskin decided his higher power was ramen noodles. In his...

July 5: Tiffany at RiverSpace

As if the events of the last week haven’t brought up enough stories from the 1980s pop-music world, teen star and ’80s icon Tiffany makes a return appearance to the shores of the Russian River this weekend. Since dominating school dances over 20 years ago, Tiffany’s sung country music in Nashville, posed nude in Playboy and evolved into a...

July 2: Spencer Day at the Napa Valley Opera House

Staring into his own reflection backstage in his dressing room at the Napa Valley Opera House, Spencer Day couldn’t believe his luck. He’d flown in from L.A. that morning after being asked to open for Rufus Wainwright, and he, with only a guitarist as accompaniment, walked out onto the stage—and completely captivated the crowd. Day’s vocal style is swinging...

Killing Bruce Willis

07.01.09By now, everyone has heard the tale. The drama is over, Bruce is OK, my insurance paid for the limo, the paparazzi circus that invaded Sonoma has moved on, and I'm no longer looking at extensive jail time.But it was touch-and-go there at first. Nearly killing a celebrity is bad on a number of levels. First, you're immediately guilty...

Let There Be Rock

07.01.09The seven girls are sprawled on couches, gabbing about their favorite bands. Some describe themselves as emo, others as punk, goth or ska. One girl wears red plaid plants, knee-high black boots, a Rancid T-shirt. Another is timid, wearing a plain oversized black sweatshirt and shorts. A soft-spoken girl says she loves to wear costumes, especially tiaras. Instantly, a...

Grow a Spine!

Postcards from the Outraged

07.01.09Ellen Augustine has helped spread over 35,000 pies around the country, and they are all very, very flat—in fact, they're no more than postcards depicting pie charts of U.S. budget spending. On a recent visit with Augustine, I ask what she hopes to achieve with her postcards. "See this?" she says, tapping her finger on the red-and-green pie chart...

Wilco (the review)

07.01.09It's fitting that former Wilco band member and songwriter Jay Bennett's fatal overdose came just a month before this week's Wilco (the album) . While it's still the pretentious hipster move to say that a band "hasn't been the same" since a certain member left, many fans certainly feel that way about Jay Bennett and Wilco. After all, Bennett's...

Page Turner

07.01.09Less than 10 minutes after Treehorn Books in downtown Santa Rosa has opened its doors for the day, a few eager booklovers have already begun to roam the store. Some are seated in the middle of aisles and perusing floor shelves, while others work through sections, letting their fingers occasionally drift over a book or two.Co-owner Michael Stephens stands...
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