Letters to the Editor

September 27-October 3, 2006

Less hostility in general, please!

Re (“Madonna/Whore,” Sept. 13): More Susie Bright! Less hostility from the repressed breeders who are bored!

Melie Water, Santa Rosa

From the constant reader

Michael Schreiber’s incisive review of Stauber and Rampton’s The Best War Ever: Lies, Damned Lies and the Mess in Iraq (Critic’s Choice, Sept. 20) made an important point somewhat indirectly: progressive dismay with Bush & Gang is rising and getting ever more shrill because it isn’t moving American public opinion in any decisive way. In fact, Bush’s recent approval ratings have gone up.

Why? The public, I believe, has grudgingly come to accept that the Bush administration is arrogant, venal, mendacious and costly. However, to rally behind such ideas as the Center for Constitutional Rights’ Bush impeachment proposal as suggested by would mean getting serious about confronting the direction in which the country is heading. That is, we would have to turn away from the self-indulgent habits our corporate rulers have spent many decades and countless billions encouraging in us and bend to the hard, years-long, grinding work of combining to bring those rulers to heel.

Shades of the ’60s! We might even be forced to realize that our primary values ought to be caring for each other and about the environment in which we live! I think we would rather do almost any mad thing than that.

Don MacQueen, Santa Rosa

On Sydney’s side

I would like to respond to in his “Flaming Sydney” letter (Sept. 20). I am one of those simple, trite, shallow and naÔve question-askers who has written to Sydney for advice. I think Michael is missing the point of the importance of a column such as Sydney’s. The enormity of things to be stressed out about in this world can be downright devastating. Maybe we need to be able to take comfort in the fact that there’s a venue to ask Sydney about simple, self-absorbed issues that create a much-needed, momentary diversion from things like terrorism, genocide and global warming. Can you let people off the hook once a week to get excited about what Sydney might have come up with in response to a question they were too embarrassed or shy to ask anyone else? Has the “nonmainstream” community become so intolerant?

Don’t read Sydney’s column if it bothers you that much. Better yet, take action and send Sydney questions that contain the substance and depth you are craving. [Pssst: as*******@******an.com]

Staying anonymous so that I can keep asking Sydney shallow questions, Sebastopol

Elephants in the closet?

The best-kept secret in Petaluma is that Mike Harris and John Mills ran for and won elected office prior to running for city council! The archives of the nonpartisan SmartVoter.org website clearly show that both were elected to the Republican Party Central Committee of Sonoma County in March of 2002. But you will search in vain for any mention of this Republican Party leadership role in the candidates’ current campaign materials and websites.

Obviously, Republicans are entitled to run for office, even in a town with a two-to-one Democratic voter registration majority, and at a time of historic outrage at Republican policies nationally. But no one has a right to hide significant and highly pertinent job history. And really, what could be more pertinent than previously running for, winning and serving in elected office?

In the private sector, deliberately omitting a relevant previous job from a job application is considered dishonest and a firing offense. As self-proclaimed business leaders, Mr. Harris and Mr. Mills should know that better than anyone.

I encourage Petaluma voters to reject candidates who deceive voters about their background.

Larry Modell, Petaluma

Dept. of Corrections

(“The Pleasure of Problems,” Aug. 30) erroneously stated that tours of the Oliver Ranch are open to the public. In fact, the tours are private. Furthermore, admission monies are donated to nonprofit cultural and visual arts organizations. We apologize for the errors.

The ed., No hardhat hard enough


News Briefs

September 27-October 3, 2006

Safety’s afoot

Ever felt anxious walking or bicycling across a busy street, with traffic whizzing by? Imagine how much harder it might be if your wheels were attached to a wheelchair, or if you steps were shortened because you were young or elderly. A number of North Bay residents want to raise awareness of bicycle and pedestrian safety, particularly for the area’s most vulnerable populations: children, seniors and the disabled. “The bottom line is that everyone needs to feel safer than we do now when we take a step into a crosswalk or get on a bicycle,” says Shirley Zane, executive director of the Sonoma County Council on Aging. The Council on Aging is one of the sponsors of the Take Back the Streets march and rally slated for Tuesday, Oct. 3, at Courthouse Square and Juilliard Park, in Santa Rosa at 1pm. “In California,” Zane adds, “less than 1 percent of transportation funds are dedicated to bicycle and pedestrian safety, even though pedestrians comprise more than 17 percent of all traffic deaths.” Take Back the Streets is presented by a coalition of 21 sponsors, among them the city of Santa Rosa, the Sonoma County Bicycle Coalition, a number of neighborhood groups and a range of nonprofits aiding disabled folks. On a similar theme, International Walk to School Day is Wednesday, Oct. 4. A total of 1,582 schools nationwide have registered for this event, including 244 campuses in California. In the North Bay, participating sites include Mill Valley Middle School; Laurel Dell Elementary and Marin Waldorf in San Rafael; Proctor Terrace and Biella elementary schools in Santa Rosa; Woodland Star Charter School in Sonoma; and Windsor Middle School and Brooks Elementary in Windsor. Currently, no Napa County schools are officially registered, but there’s still time to sign up online (www.walktoschool.org). In fact, October is Walk to School Month, and parents and teachers are encouraged to create a range of activities. There’s also info online (www.safroutetoschool.org, under “campaigns”) about Marin County’s program that became the nationally successful Safe Routes to School project, getting children out of cars all year long and safely bicycling or walking to school.

Way to go

Well-deserved and long-overdue kudos go to Elizabeth Stinson, director of the Sonoma County Peace and Justice Center. She was honored Sept. 21 at the second annual Peace Prize ceremony hosted in San Francisco by Agape Foundation Fund for Nonviolent Change. Stinson received the foundation’s Long Haul Prize for her work helping young people resist military recruitment. “It’s really nice for a social-justice community when the dissenting voice gets acknowledged,” Stinson says. “I don’t think this is just about my work; I think it’s about the center’s members, whose donations support this work and support that dissenting voice.”


Ask Sydney

September 27-October 3, 2006

Dear Sydney, my sister and I are in the process of organizing a party to honor our parent’s 50th wedding anniversary. Our intention is to invite all of our aunts, uncles and cousins, including their spouses and children. The problem is that one of our cousins has a schizophrenic husband whom I would rather not invite. I feel bad about this, for he is often a pleasant man who can be funny and a joy to be around. However, he also has a dual personality that is moody, belligerent, drinks to excess and thinks that he is a karaoke king. He couldn’t hit the right key with a flamethrower and replaces the original song lyrics with his own, which too often involve graphic discussions of flatulence.

My sister thinks that it will work out OK as long as we specify on the invitation that only my cousin “Pam” and her husband “Bob” are invited. She foolishly believes that Bob’s schizophrenic alter-ego “Bobby” would honor our wishes and remain hidden during the party.

Unfortunately, what my sister fails to understand is that Bobby is extremely jealous about being treated with what he feels is second-class status. I would not put it past him to intrude at the worst possible time and ruin what should be our parent’s special day. To make matters worse, we have hired a DJ who will have a karaoke machine as the entertainment. Please tell me how I can convince my sister that inviting Bob is not worth the risk of receiving Bobby.–Schizophrenic in Cotati

Dear Schizophrenic: You can’t not invite Bob. The only way to not invite Bob is to not invite your cousin Pam. This is one of the things that makes families so difficult–you have to put up with their sometimes questionable social behavior. But they’re family, which means that they get an invite even if they like to get drunk and piss off the deck onto your perennials.

This leaves you with three options. One (and this is the most functional) is to talk frankly with your cousin about your concerns. Surely she is aware that her husband can be the death of a party. Let her know that you want her and Bob to be there, but should Bobby rear his unwelcome head, you need to agree upon a plan of action beforehand. How will your cousin help to deflect the situation? After all, she’s the one married to the guy. Could she just take Bobby home?

If honestly is not in the offing, enter option two: Cancel the party. Instead of having a huge event, plan something extra-special for your parents that involves immediate family only. And if you must have the party, try option three: Get rid of that damned karaoke machine. It might make all the difference.

Dear Sydney, I am very close friends with my brother’s ex-wife, who left him for a younger man many years ago. I renewed my friendship with her, with my brother’s blessing, because she has been in my life since I was five years old. She practically raised me. My brother had a daughter with this woman (my niece), who is now 24 years old. She hates her mother and has not spoken to her for over a year now. My niece has the same issues and resentments toward her mother that I have also experienced and felt, but I have come to forgive her over time. My niece hates the fact that I speak to her mother, and says that I am betraying our family by having a relationship with her. My brother’s ex-wife lives a very sad and lonely life, and I try to explain to my niece that I feel sorry for her. She is too young to understand, but it puts a huge strain on our relationship. My family and my blood are the most important things to me in life, but I think it’s silly that I have to choose here and break ties. Am I being a “bad aunt” and a “bad sister,” even with my brother’s blessing?–The Good Aunt

Dear Good Aunt: Your niece is plenty old enough to understand. She needs to call her mother up and try to work it out, not take her pent-up frustrations out on you. You have every right to have a relationship with whomever you please. From what you have said here, it seems you are a caring person, and your compassion and commitment to your brother’s ex-wife is just another expression of this aspect of yourself. Try not to allow someone else’s dysfunction, or your own self-doubt, squelch such a wonderful personality trait.

Dear Sydney, lately I’ve been noticing people standing in queues leaving a lot more space between themselves and the man or woman ahead of them. First time I saw this was at an ATM, and the reason seemed obvious enough, but now, it’s all lines everywhere. I’m from New York, and if you do that in my town, a half dozen people will squeeze into that space before you can blink. Geez, here they sometimes leave 10, 15 feet of air! What’s up with that? I think I’ve ruled out body odor as a factor.–Baffled NYC Alien

Dear Baff: Haven’t you ever heard of personal space? It’s considered just as tacky to hover over someone in line as it is to tailgate. You just don’t do it unless you’re pissed off or in a real hurry. Your average Californian prefers to have about one arm’s length between themselves and any other human being outside of their direct pool of family members and intimate friends. Granted, there are those exceptions. Which of us hasn’t been smothered by a person who does not share the arm’s-length approach, stepping forward with every step you take back, until it is possible to actually count their nose hairs? This is the Wild West, and most of us natives still want to feel the open air. Besides, you never know who might be coming down with something, and most of us don’t trust strangers anyway.

No question too big, too small or too off-the-wall.


Power Plays

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the arts | stage |

Photograph by Jenny Graham
Monarchial: King John (Michael Elich) is lost after learning of the death of his mother, Eleanor of Aquitaine.

By David Templeton

‘Strong reasons make strange actions.” So suggests a philosophical pretender to the English throne in Shakespeare’s seldom-seen history play King John, a stunningly fitting work given the current state of world politics, which is now enjoying a rare and exquisitely staged run at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival in Ashland. That tasty little quote is uttered by Lewis, the son of the French King Philip, who, through obscure marital connections, has laid legal claim to the country of England. Lewis has good reason to take advantage of England’s rising grief and outrage following a fresh and unspeakable tragedy committed on native soil.

Anchored by a powerhouse performance from Michael Elich as King John and an especially strong cast and a clever stage concept, the play–rarely performed because of its complexity and relative lack of action–is among the 2006 Oregon Shakespeare Festival’s biggest surprises, playing to stunned and sold-out audiences.

As directed by John Sipes, King John is a complex socio-political snapshot of an inept ruler desperately trying to maintain his authority by waging an unjust war, and though it is seldom performed in America today, it contains some of the Bard’s sharpest, wittiest, most quotable dialogue. It is not an easy play to stage, veering as it does from long scenes in which diplomats argue over the fates of England and France, to frighteningly tense bits such as when a young prince is sentenced to have his eyes burned out with a red-hot poker. So it is especially remarkable that Sipes has created a King John this edge-of-the-seat compelling.

That is the rule for this year’s festival, still going strong as it approaches its final month. With the exception of a few disappointments–a visually lovely but emotionally lackluster Winter’s Tale chief among the lesser-thans–this has been a season distinctive for strong actors giving towering performances in difficult plays, and visionary directors taking neglected plays and turning them on their ear.

Though many are surprised to hear it, the fall is an excellent time to make the trip to Ashland. The post-Labor Day season in Ashland is far less crowded and much easier to negotiate than in the summer. The air is crisp, the trees in Lithia Park are turning and the hotels and restaurants are easier to get reservations in than any other time of the year.

Though performed a bit more often than King John, Shakespeare’s Two Gentlemen of Verona still rates as one of his least staged works. A comedy bearing a lot of the tell-tale Shakespeare signs (women disguised as men, bands of happy outlaws living in the wilds, improbably happy resolutions), OSF’s entertaining new version, staged as a modern-dress, outdoor extravaganza is crammed with Amish villagers, croquet-playing aristocrats and Mohawked, Goth-tinged punkers.

The plot isn’t much. Friends Valentine (Juan Rivera LeBron) and Proteus (Gregory Linington)–reinvented here as childhood Amish buddies–find themselves fighting for the attentions of the same upper-class damsel when they both head out into the world for a bit of rumspringa oat-sewing. Full of invention and deliriously fun to watch, the show is directed by new OSF artistic director Bill Rauch, following in the footsteps of outgoing AD Libby Appel. Watch for Eileen DeSandre’s inspired turn as Amish chaperone Speed, who somehow turns her every line and stage action, including the way she sits down in a deck chair, into an enormous laugh.

David Edgar’s psychologically dense adaptation of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde features another of the season’s towering performances: James Newcomb (so good last year as Richard III) as Dr. Henry Jekyll and his murderously libertine alter ego Edward Hyde. True to the novel by Robert Louis Stevenson, this is not a story of a gentle man who turns into a lustful monster after drinking a magic potion, but the tale of a man who, perhaps using the “potion” as a placebo, gleefully unlocks the beast that was always within.

Beautifully staged on a set that features a shadowy Victorian London complete with fog and faintly glimmering lanterns, this is a show that highlights duality every chance it gets, from the piano duets that Jekyll plays to the two-faced spinning top he gives his niece as a toy. Kelly Curran, who started the season as Anne Frank in the now closed Diary of Anne Frank, is heartbreaking again as Jekyll’s all-too-understanding maid, Annie Loder. Though packed with special effects and stage magic, the real special effect here is Newcomb, whose transformations from Jekyll to Hyde and back again–using no makeup–are nothing short of astonishing.

Continuing the theme of men compromised by nature, Edmond Rostand’s Cyrano de Bergerac, directed by Laird Williamson using a highly accessible translation by Anthony Burgess, tells the story of Cyrano (the riveting Marco Barricelli), a poet and a soldier who cannot look past his own oversized nose to risk proclaiming his true feelings to Roxane, the woman he has always loved. Barricelli is a commanding presence, and his baritone voice, as Cyrano matches wits and trades insults with his enemies, is a thing of wonder.

This is a play about appearances, as much as King John is a play about public reputation and Jekyll is about inner identity, and Roxane, played well by Robin Goodrin Nordli, is a perfect counter to poor Cyrano; she too cares more about appearances and pretty words than she does about what really matters–until it’s too late.

‘King John’ and ‘Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,’ both indoor shows, run through Oct. 29 and 28, respectively. ‘The Winter’s Tale’ runs through Oct. 29. The outdoor shows, ‘The Merry Wives of Windsor,’ ‘Cyrano de Bergerac’ and ‘The Two Gentlemen of Verona,’ run through Oct. 6, 7 and 8, respectively. For tickets and information, visit www.orshakes.org.



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All About ‘Eve’

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music & nightlife |

Full circle: P. F. Sloan rediscovers the songwriter within.

By Bruce Robinson

Forty-one years ago this week, P. F. Sloan had the No. 1 record in America. If his name doesn’t ring a bell, it’s probably because he was the writer, not the singer, of the 1965 protest classic “Eve of Destruction.”

The popularity of Barry McGuire’s recording surprised everyone involved.

“The song was originally the back side of the McGuire record,” Sloan recalled recently, doing publicity in advance of his Sept. 30 show at the Mystic Theatre. “And though I knew in my soul that it was a very important song, they didn’t think it was worthy of publishing until Barry McGuire recorded it. There really wasn’t any feeling of it being a hit.”

Someone at McGuire’s record label leaked a rough mix of the track to Top 40 radio powerhouse KFWB, so the story goes, and the L.A. station jumped on it. A month later, it topped Billboard‘s Hot 100. Sloan’s reaction? “Well, shocked doesn’t even come close.”

At the time, Sloan and his partner Steve Barri were already a well-established Southern California writer/producer team. Beginning as a surf-music duo (they even performed as the Fantastic Baggys for “Tell ‘Em I’m Surfin'” in 1964), the pair created major hits for the Grass Roots (“Where Were You When I Needed You?”), Johnny Rivers (“Secret Agent Man”), the Turtles (“You Baby”) and others. “Eve” eclipsed them all, and Sloan knew immediately that it was something different.

“It really felt as if it was coming through me, rather than from me,” he recounts, “but it was definitely my feelings as an American that I wanted to communicate to others. It was very strange. Information was being given to me, perhaps from a higher consciousness or a divine source.”

But if the song’s subsequent sales were strong, so was the political reaction. “It was very polarizing, unfortunately,” Sloan says now. “To me, it was just a simple prescription, saying this needs to be looked at or otherwise there’s going to be real problems. I had no idea that people would react to a prescription in such negative way.”

One of those reactions was hastily released flag-waving answer song, “The Dawn of Correction.” Sloan, who initially liked the idea of a political and philosophical dialogue playing out on pop radio, now dismisses it as “just an exploitation record.”

Not long afterward, Sloan released his own version of “Eve of Destruction” on his first solo album, Songs of Our Times. It also appears anew (with guest appearances by Frank Black and Buddy Miller) on a freshly issued CD, Sailover. Amid a batch of new material, several of his other famous hits are also revisited on the disc.

“My passion and my love for those songs are intact, so I thought we’d give it a shot to see if we could better what we did,” he explains. “Obviously, if you’re a record fan like myself, you don’t want to pick up Little Richard’s 1986 version of ‘The Girl Can’t Help It.’ You’d rather get the original. But the originals aren’t available.”

In the early 1970s, Sloan (his first initials stand for Philip Faith, and friends address him as Phil) bitterly walked away from the music business completely, neither writing nor recording for more than three decades, listening, he says, to little more than Beethoven. So when producer Jon Tiven finally coaxed him back into a studio last year, Sloan had to find out if he could still create new music.

“I hadn’t been in touch with the songwriter P. F. Sloan for 30 years, so I really didn’t know if he existed any longer,” he says softly. “And to my awe and surprise, he does. And I’m really surprised and very happy with that.”

He’s also happy about being on tour–his first ever as a performer–which has added to his own appreciation of his songs. “There’s a deeper connection when you’re singing them in front of people that I hadn’t really noticed before, when the song was being written or recorded,” he elaborates. “It’s sort of like an ice skater, I guess, who doesn’t really know the depth he’s skating on.”

Even though he is hard-pressed to explain why he has chosen to emerge from his self-imposed musical exile just now, Sloan seems cautiously pleased with that decision. When the interviewer comments that it seems that this opportunity to sing his own songs in public has been a long time coming, Sloan pauses, then laughs ruefully.

“Yeah,” he says, “isn’t it, though?”

P. F. Sloan opens for Ramblin’ Jack Elliott at the Mystic Theatre on Saturday, Sept. 30. 23 Petaluma Blvd. N., Petaluma. 8pm. $20. 707.765.2121.




FIND A MUSIC REVIEW

The Boho Awards

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September 27-October 3, 2006

Boho Awards 2006:

This issue is one of our favorites. The lovely chore of choosing Boho Award recipients is warm bread and sweet honey. Once we begin thinking about the people and institutions that have made strong contributions to the arts and community of the North Bay, we simply can’t stop. The wealth of worthies is overwhelming in its number. Given the possibilities, it’s truly difficult to confine ourselves to just five final choices.

In this, our ninth year of celebrating the arts in the North Bay, we are proud to introduce people and institutions both more and less familiar. ‘s is perhaps a recognized name; ‘s, perhaps not. Yet each have made significant contributions in her and his own way to our community, feats that we’re glad to crow about on the following pages. Please also meet chamber maven ; the shock of the new that abounds at ; and the life lessons offered by .

We honor our recipients in person on Wednesday, Oct. 4, and invite you to join us at a public reception. The evening is to be outdoors at the Glaser Center (in the Universal Unitarian Church, 547 Mendocino Ave., south of College Avenue, Santa Rosa) from 5:30pm to 7:30pm and is free. The Trailer Park Rangers have graciously agreed to perform. We will be hailing our ninth Annual Boho Award recipients and enjoying light fare. We’d love to see you there!

–Gretchen Giles


First Bite

September 27-October 3, 2006

When you’re located in a strip mall, it’s difficult to shed the strip-mall ambiance, but Sugo in Petaluma manages. Sugo serves bang-up, fresh, Italian-influenced food at prices that, by the Bay Area’s inflated standards, seem like a steal. Don’t picture another barley and wheatgrass joint, though Sugo’s fare does seem remarkably wholesome. For instance, my penne primavera ($10) was a veritable garden of tomato, basil, carrots, green beans, zucchini, broccoli, cauliflower, asparagus and mushrooms, with perfectly cooked penne tossed in almost as an afterthought.

The chef uses a light hand with oils without a sacrifice in taste. My friend and I started with bruschetta ($5), which was by far the best version of this homely dish that I have ever had. The toasts were perfectly browned, moist and chewy inside, with a fresh and chilly tomato and basil concoction heaped aboard the little crouton canoes. A week later, we were still reminiscing about it. The house salad ($8) was another stunning array of the garden’s bounty, with a few added attractions. Fresh corn off the cob, greens, cucumbers and tomatoes composed the vegetable portion, while kalamata olives, walnuts, gorgonzola and a light balsamic dressing provided the finale.

My friend had a sandwich with grilled eggplant, mozzarella and artichoke hearts on focaccia ($8). It was accompanied by lovely waves of housemade potato chips, one of which I managed to snag. Let’s just say that if they were available by the pound, I’d be fatter (and happier) than I already am. Also offered are individual pizzas ($8), one of which I spied at an adjacent table. They look to be enough for two light eaters or a parent with a child in tow.

If you do nothing else, do this: Finish the meal with a dessert. We took an apple pie to split, which was worth every single one of the $6 that we paid for it. It was a homemade pie, as good as Grandma’s, and that’s no lie. My only complaint would be concerning service. It was rude. Maybe I just hit the server on a bad day; still, it should be noted. For my money, though, Sugo is a great little neighborhood place. And even if Jabba the Hutt was taking orders, I’d still go back for the bruschetta.

Sugo, 5 Petaluma Blvd. S. (at B Street), Petaluma. Open Tuesday-Sunday for lunch and dinner. 707.782.9298.


Quick-and-dirty dashes through North Bay restaurants. These aren’t your standard “bring five friends and order everything on the menu” dining reviews.

Livin’ in the City

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September 27-October 3, 2006

Someday we will learn our lesson. Seeking the peace and quiet that we could not attain in the Bay Area, my husband and I have naturally enough moved to the largest city in the country. Our apartment in California was plagued with low-end rumblings from our upstairs neighbor’s massive television set, and it drove us nuts. You know how your car vibrates at a stop light when the pimped-out stereo of the car next to you blares reggaeton? It’s like that car was parked right above our apartment. We were looking forward to leaving that behind.

Now we are the upstairs neighbors, but no closer to the silent domestic bliss we’d hoped for. At random intervals, clumsy clusters of bass notes seep up from the floor, then cease just as suddenly. Then they begin again. At first, we figured someone down there was doing a terrible job of learning to play bass–they couldn’t even get through a whole song!–but eventually I solved the mystery: it’s the five-year-old son of the occupants in 1-A, playing a Blue’s Clues computer game. Every time he completes a task correctly, the game rewards him with a very loud micro-jingle.

This problem can be easily solved; all I need to do is go down there all neighborly-like, perhaps with homemade cookies in tow, and politely ask them to turn the fucking Blue’s Clues down. Either I am getting quieter or music is getting louder. I’m pretty sure it’s not the former. I am one loud person, especially if you get a few drinks in me. And I like–no, I love–loud music. If a song is good, logic dictates that making it louder will make it better–especially if that song features noisy guitars and drums. If you watch old television shows like Dragnet, you learn that the presence of loud rock ‘n’ roll music is indicative of lost, uncaring teenagers, and you think, “Neat-o! I want to be one of them.”

Somewhere in those intervening 40 years, though, loud music lost its rebellious cache. Everyone plays music loud, including my dad, whose favorite CDs are recordings of the Ohio State University Marching Band and John Philip Sousa. When he’s not abusing the stereo, my mom takes over and cranks up Enya. Nothing against parade sets and atmospheric woodland-elf music, but for optimum listening pleasure, loud music must also be cool. KISS can roll over and tell the Who the news: Blue’s Clues has the rub on them.

For solace, I joined a health club and participated in a yoga class. The instructor played wishy-washy New Age music, which is ignorable enough. But then, just as I was about to truly connect with my inner self in goddess pose, the New Age music gave way to the Lion King‘s “Circle of Life.” Across the hall, spinning class commenced, and Christina Aguilera appeared on their sound system to duke it out with Elton John on ours. Not surprisingly, Dirrty Christina won–“Ain’t No Other Man” is about all you could ask for in a dance-pop song–but any continuation of goddess pose was a lost cause. I cancelled my membership.

Loud music used to be my own personal pleasure. I’d indulge in the car, on my Walkman, in my bedroom, and no one ever once told me to turn it down, except that one time in college when my roommate and I were dancing in our underwear to “Cum on Feel the Noize.” And at concerts, a band’s performance of loud music became the conduit that linked an entire audience’s private exaltation. But loud music in public does nothing but isolate people. Every time I hear loud music at a fashionable store, movie preview or hipster bar, I move deeper into myself in the worst way possible.

While enjoying the benefits of big-city life (a subway busker playing “Amazing Grace” on an unamplified hurdy-gurdy; Arabic pop music emitting from a portable stereo at a cart that sells dirt-cheap gyros), I dream of the life in the country that Mr. Bir Toujour and I will someday attain. We’ll have a barn where he’ll set up his drum kit; there will be chickens and goats for eggs and milk, a front and back yard for the dog.

But I’m too savvy now to expect it to be peaceful. Trucks will roar by, chainsaws will whirr out in the woods, and our nearest neighbors, half a mile away, will still manage to destroy our quiet evenings with the earth-shaking bass of their television or computer. Or maybe we’ll be lucky, and they’ll make noise with actual live music instead of recorded crap.


Night Visions

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September 27-October 3, 2006

Auteur Michel Gondry’s work has always been rife with the manipulation of images, the creation of a counterfeit and controllable reality. His music videos with Bjork, Kylie Minogue, the White Stripes and many others have utilized surrealistic, intentionally artificial imagery that nevertheless leaves an impression on any who see it.

Before his latest film, it was hard to know where Gondry was going with all this fantastical work. But with the dreamscapes of The Science of Sleep, the visionary Gondry manages to take his technique and thought process to another level, illuminating them like never before.

The Science of Sleep–Gondry’s fourth directorial feature, but his first as sole screenwriter–centers on a lonely protagonist, a shy, artistic Mexican named Stephane (Gael García Bernal). After the death of his father, with whom he was living in Mexico, Stephane is duped by his mother into returning to her native France for what she tells him is a lucrative and creatively satisfying job in a calendar factory.

At his first day, however, Stephane’s outlandish artistic visions are greeted with apathy and outright mockery, and he is assigned to typesetting. The only saving grace is his budding friendship with his new neighbor Stephanie (Charlotte Gainsbourg), but his childlike antics consistently prevent the two from making an honest romantic connection.

It is interesting to see the sensitive artiste with the unique worldview–obviously, Gondry’s self-portrait–consistently put down for the innocent, Peter Pan-like state in which he lives. Onscreen, Stephane’s girlfriend-to-be, his co-workers, even his otherwise doting mother take time to ridicule his emphasis on emotion and creativity. It’s as if Gondry is trying to emphasize the futility of such a person ever finding success in today’s world, but it is never quite clear who is being indicted here, the dreamer or the world that refuses to accept him.

And then there are those dreams. Throughout the film, Stephane regularly retreats to his dream world. Through visually daring bygone techniques that include old-school special effects, stop-motion animation and rudimentary visual trickery, Gondry makes Stephane’s dreamscape a land we can’t help but envy him for, an infinitely more creative version of the world with bits of Stephane’s “true” reality mixed up with his fantasies through expressionistic and surrealistic art forms.

In The Science of Sleep, surrealism, always at the forefront of Gondry’s style, is given the ultimate stage for its quest to capture what is “more than real.” Stop-motion, the dominant tactic of Stephane’s dreams, is a perfect illustration of this; although it is a form of animation, everything is still real.

When the surrealists attempted to capture the unconscious mind to create the ultimate reality, they discovered that what came out often bordered on (or more often dove freely into) the realm of the absurd. Stephane’s dreams are, if nothing else, certainly absurd, albeit in the most cinematically entertaining way possible.

As that surrealist dabbler Picasso once said, “Art is a lie which tells the truth”; filmmaking is the ultimate way to search for the truth through inherently false images. Gondry’s work takes this falsity and still manages to prove it’s real, since it’s occurring before our very eyes in tangible ways. Although Stephane’s dreams are impossible scenarios and worlds, they still contain core inner truths, his true feelings about others and himself, his honest hopes and fears.

Despite their utter falsity, Gondry’s films still manage to convey some deep level of the reality of our world. And for that, Gondry has cemented his place as a true purveyor of the “more than real” that is the foundation of the surrealism he clearly loves so dearly.

‘The Science of Sleep’ opens at select North Bay theaters on Friday, Sept. 29.


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Wine Tasting Room of the Week

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Like Donald Trump, St. Francis of Assisi has managed to get his name on a fair amount of real estate, ranging from hotels, hospitals and colleges to whole cities (he left his name, if not his heart, in San Francisco). Though his posthumous branding campaign stalled before the advent of launch boxes and T-shirt logos, he did manage to get his namesake pasted on at least one local winery: the St. Francis Winery and Vineyards just this side of Kenwood in Santa Rosa.

Forgoing the Catholic hard sell, the winery’s website explains that its proprietors chose the name “in recognition of the Saint’s role as a protector of the natural world and as acknowledgement of the Franciscan order, believed to have been the first to bring European grape cultivation to the new world.” Emphasis: they brought the wine, not the smallpox. The site also features a photo of the winery’s mission-style premises accompanied by the sound of church bells, but no mention of St. Francis coming down with the first “documented” case of stigmata, which also briefly made him the world peek-a-boo champion.

Though it won’t put holes in your hands and feet, St. Francis Winery and Vineyards’ wine also won’t put a hole in your pocketbook. Several moderately priced and immensely quaffable wines are available including the 2004 Sonoma County Old Vines Zinfandel ($22), which brims with blueberry matched with the vaguely acrid notes of fine espresso.

The 2002 Sonoma County claret ($22) (which, remember, is not a varietal but a blend of several different varietals–in this case Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon and Zinfandel) is a bit of a case study for me. The house tasting notes suggest a variety of berry characteristics met with chocolate and clove; however, my palate, perhaps smote for poking fun at saints, instead found pleasing notes of leather and tar. Am I right? Are they wrong? Yes and no, respectively. Suffice it to say, if Rorschach used wine instead of inkblots, guys like Robert Parker would be out of business. Remember, the middle word in “subjective” is “je,” which is French for “I,” whose palate you should trust most.

If you trust mine, try the 2004 Sonoma County Chardonnay ($13)–it’s like a shard of peanut brittle in a glass. A wonderfully sumptuous wine, it has a notably lush mouth-feel that makes it a joy to sip as much for the taste as the feeling.

St. Francis Winery and Vineyards, 100 Pythian Road, Santa Rosa. Open daily, 10am to 5pm. Tastings are $10, half of which is waived upon purchase; food and wine pairings are $20. 800.543.7713, ext. 242.

Letters to the Editor

September 27-October 3, 2006Less hostility in general, please!Re ("Madonna/Whore," Sept. 13): More Susie Bright! Less hostility from the repressed breeders who are bored! Melie Water, Santa RosaFrom the constant readerMichael Schreiber's incisive review of Stauber and Rampton's The Best War Ever: Lies, Damned Lies and the Mess in Iraq (Critic's Choice, Sept. 20) made an important point somewhat...

News Briefs

September 27-October 3, 2006 Safety's afoot Ever felt anxious walking or bicycling across a busy street, with traffic whizzing by? Imagine how much harder it might be if your wheels were attached to a wheelchair, or if you steps were shortened because you were young or elderly. A number of North Bay residents want to raise awareness of bicycle and...

Ask Sydney

September 27-October 3, 2006 Dear Sydney, my sister and I are in the process of organizing a party to honor our parent's 50th wedding anniversary. Our intention is to invite all of our aunts, uncles and cousins, including their spouses and children. The problem is that one of our cousins has a schizophrenic husband whom I would rather not invite....

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music & nightlife | Full circle: P. F. Sloan...

The Boho Awards

September 27-October 3, 2006Boho Awards 2006: This issue is one of our favorites. The lovely chore of choosing Boho Award recipients is warm bread and sweet honey. Once we begin thinking about the people and institutions that have made strong contributions to the arts and community of the North Bay, we simply can't stop. The wealth of worthies...

First Bite

September 27-October 3, 2006When you're located in a strip mall, it's difficult to shed the strip-mall ambiance, but Sugo in Petaluma manages. Sugo serves bang-up, fresh, Italian-influenced food at prices that, by the Bay Area's inflated standards, seem like a steal. Don't picture another barley and wheatgrass joint, though Sugo's fare does seem remarkably wholesome. For instance, my penne...

Livin’ in the City

September 27-October 3, 2006 Someday we will learn our lesson. Seeking the peace and quiet that we could not attain in the Bay Area, my husband and I have naturally enough moved to the largest city in the country. Our apartment in California was plagued with low-end rumblings from our upstairs neighbor's massive television set, and it drove us nuts....

Night Visions

September 27-October 3, 2006Auteur Michel Gondry's work has always been rife with the manipulation of images, the creation of a counterfeit and controllable reality. His music videos with Bjork, Kylie Minogue, the White Stripes and many others have utilized surrealistic, intentionally artificial imagery that nevertheless leaves an impression on any who see it. Before his latest film, it was...

Wine Tasting Room of the Week

Like Donald Trump, St. Francis of Assisi has managed to get his name on a fair amount of real estate, ranging from hotels, hospitals and colleges to whole cities (he left his name, if not his heart, in San Francisco). Though his posthumous branding campaign stalled before the advent of launch boxes and T-shirt logos, he did manage to...
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