Uproar in Purgatory

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October 11-17, 2006


‘If my son is in Hell, then there is no Heaven, because if my son sits in Hell, then there is no God.”

So states Judas’ grief-stricken mother Henrietta Iscariot in the opening moments of Stephen Adly Guirgis’ rich and rambling poem of a play, The Last Days of Judas Iscariot, currently on stage at Santa Rosa Junior College. Henrietta’s fiery words sum up the powerful central question of Guirgis’ play: How can a just and supposedly forgiving God punish those who, if everything on earth happens according to His plan, are only doing what they were created to do? That question is answered many different ways in the play, but is most succinctly summed up early on when one defender simply suggests, “Judas got fucked.”

In a spirited production by director Laura Downing-Lee, the students of the school’s respected theater arts program have clearly been energized by the ferocious intelligence and boldness of Guirgis’ controversial 2005 fantasia on justice and forgiveness. In it, Judas is granted a retrial in Purgatory, and a parade of characters from the Bible and world history–Pontius Pilate, Simon the Zealot, Satan, Mother Theresa, Sigmund Freud–appear to either defend or damn the man who, one night in the Garden of Gethsemane, betrayed Jesus with the world’s most infamous kiss.

Rarely do students have such fresh material to work with (the play debuted in New York only last April), and the large cast meets the opportunity with palpable enthusiasm and furious energy, even if the pacing and the volume–some actors are a bit too soft-spoken to hear–are occasionally a bit off and the play is a bit over long.

Few bad guys in the history of the world carry the stench of wickedness and treachery that cling to the name and fate of poor, damned Judas Iscariot. Depending on whose version you listen to–even the Gospels can’t agree on the details–Judas was either misguided, evil, angry or avaricious, betraying his master for that legendary bag of silver coins. Over the centuries, volumes have been written about Judas; he has been used as everything from a justification for the persecution of Jews to a scary cautionary tale to a symbol of youthful rebellion in an oppressive society. In plays like Jesus Christ Superstar and Godspell, Judas becomes the tragic fall guy in Jesus’ plan to sacrifice himself, a faithful friend willing to endure eternal infamy in order to fulfill his best friend’s wishes, the patron saint of difficult choices.

In the dramatically hyperactive mind of Guirgis (Our Lady of 121st Street, Jesus Hopped the ‘A’ Train), it is suggested that Judas was merely misguided, believing that Jesus, messiah-like, would kick-start the revolution once the guards came to get him. Another theory posited is that Judas was mentally ill, leading Freud, when called as a character witness, to observe, “Any God who punishes the mentally ill is not worth worshipping.”

Throughout the play, Judas (played with heartbreaking despair by Daniel Thompson) is mostly catatonic, primarily speaking in flashbacks until a climactic debate with Jesus (Jess Camacho), who powerfully suggests that Judas is, in fact, in Heaven, but unable to believe it because of the depths of his own guilt and anguish.

The bulk of the play is Judas’ trial. His defense attorney is Fabiana Cunningham (Tessa Rissacher), an agnostic resident of Downtown Purgatory with her own issues around betrayal; the prosecuting attorney is the desperately social-climbing Yusef El-Fayoumy (a hilarious performance by Khalid Shayota). Other strong performances are given by Kevin Kieta, charmingly slimy as the straight-shooting Satan, a riveting Daniela Herman as both Mother Teresa and Mary Magdalene, a gleefully profane Mercedes Murphy as the potty-mouthed Saint Monica and a superbly confident Nathan Todhunter as the arrogantly bullying Pontius Pilate. As Henrietta, Ernie Schumacher’s quiet presence is moving.

In the end, what Purgatory’s jury decides about Judas’ guilt or innocence is beside the point. As illustrated by the concluding monologue by jury foreman Butch Honeywell (Matt Cadigan), we are all Judas and, ultimately, our salvation begins or ends with our own ability, or inability, to truly and lovingly forgive ourselves.

‘The Last Days of Judas Iscariot’ runs Wednesday-Sunday, Oct. 11-14, at 8pm; also Oct. 14-15 at 2pm. Burbank Auditorium, SRJC, 1501 Mendocino Ave., Santa Rosa. Contains very strong language and adult subject matter. $8-$15. 707.527.4343.


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Twang with Bang

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music & nightlife |

Good word: Honky-tonk and old-timey revivialism are alive and in overalls.

By Karl Byrn

When I speak with the Rev. Spike Stain, we always talk about Elvis. We’ll both tout the King’s out-of-print late ’60s collection The Memphis Record, noting how much we dig the swinging hard blues of “Stranger in My Own Hometown” and Presley’s maturity in general. Sometimes we talk about the Bible; sometimes we just get another beer.

Stain is musician Mike Steen of Santa Rosa, and he’s a genuine practicing minister, legally ordained for Christian ministry (and work with “other nondenominational beliefs”) through the Universal Life Church in Modesto. He’s a tall, imposing, yet friendly 30ish man who always wears denim overalls and speaks with the modest drawl of a Southern gentleman, a trait no doubt picked up from his childhood on a 30-acre prune farm in rural Merced County.

In his ministry, Steen has presided over several local weddings and funerals, “bringing to each the sacred quality it deserves,” he says, “in a very traditional way, respecting traditions.” He also sings and plays guitar in two hot rock acts with Sonoma County roots, the acoustic rockabilly-gospel duo Revival Revue and the tougher rocking country four-piece Haywire Honky Tonk.

Elvis himself once said that every style in the rock and roll mix actually springs from gospel music. Revival Revue make a strong case for Presley’s point. The Reverend entertains feverishly, shaking, jumping, growling, and exhorting his audience to believe in music that’s “inspirational, sensational, motivational!” Balanced by the steady, slapping click-clack of upright bass player Todd Troublemaker, The Reverend bashes out original rockabilly songs, folk-blues favorites, and gospel standards like “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot.”

Revival Revue recently celebrated its 100th gig, a run that included opening slots for notable national acts like country hit-makers Rascal Flatts and indie icon Frank Black. The duo is now completing a second self-released disc, Original Sin. Their new material mines themes and images straight from the Old Testament, from the male/female parables of the title track to the Judgment Day blues tale “Me and Satan.”

Haywire Honky Tonk finds the Reverend back in the arms of secular material. The band have recorded some twisted Reverend blues originals like “Sheep-Killin’ Dog” and “Returning to the Scene of the Crime,” but the bulk of their wine-and-women repertoire comes from outlaw country heroes like Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, David Allan Coe and Hank Williams Sr. Not surprisingly, the Rev’s musical muscle in Haywire Honky Tonk is former members of Sonoma County’s bygone outlaw revivalists One Horse Town: Henry Nagle on guitar and pedal steel (now with art-pop band the Spindles); Paul Hoffman on bass (now with emo-rockers the Listening Group); and Jesse Wickman on drums (now owner and house producer at Atlas Studio in Santa Rosa).

“It’s not an exclusive thing,” says the Rev of the material he brings to these two bands. “Honky-tonk music, basically, is good Christian folk who have fallen by the way. That’s part of the drama and torture of all these styles of music. We’ve all fallen.”

The Reverend carries business cards that reference Isaiah 57:15, a passage he carefully selected from the Bible. In that verse, the prophet Isaiah relays the voice of God, saying, “On high I dwell, and in holiness, and with the crushed and dejected in spirit, to revive the spirits of the dejected, to revive the hearts of the crushed.”

That’s the message of renewal in the Reverend’s ministry of rock and roll. “I feel an exciting future for all these types of music, maybe because people are tired and fed up,” he says, before evoking a true Pentecostal fervor. “The world is crazy! It’s crazy! It’s crazy! People really want that old-timey feeling of being transformed by love and forgiveness.”

I believe what the Reverend is saying. I think the King would as well.

The Reverend preaches the good word with Haywire Honky Tonk on Wednesday, Oct. 18, at the Knockout in San Francisco. 415.550.6994. For info on local gigs, go to www.myspace.com/trailsendmusic.




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High Priest

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music & nightlife |

Hometown culture: The idea of a small town having its own philharmonic is one that is catching on across the nation.

By David Templeton

Ever since the Cotati Philharmonic gave its first free concert seven years ago in the tiny, proudly eccentric town of Cotati, maestro Gabriel Sakakeeny has acquired a reputation as a kind of musical holy man, an outspoken philosopher whose view of music and the arts is not unlike what some preachers feel about faith and scripture. To many, in fact, Sakakeeny is Sonoma County’s mighty missionary of music, the Reverend of rhapsody, the cleric of classical culture. Hell, some days, he even thinks of himself that way. And if Sakakeeny has his way, all musicians–amateur and professional–would begin to think of themselves as holy women and holy men of music.

“A lot of pros end up thinking of music as just their job, and they get about as excited at the thought of performing as others get about clocking in at the office,” he says. “My dream is for musicians–professional musicians and all others who are lucky enough to have an orchestra or band or chamber group to play in, and especially musicians in America–to someday begin identifying themselves as the high priests of music and beauty. When that happens, this country will undergo a musical revival that will be absolutely explosive. It’ll turn the culture upside down.”

That lofty and optimistic goal is not just Sakakeeny’s own personal dream; it’s the bedrock mission of the American Philharmonic Association (APA), the five-year-old organization of which Sakakeeny is president. In line with its APA affiliation, the Cotati Philharmonic recently formally changed its named to the American Philharmonic-Sonoma County.

At first, the notion of a town the size of Cotati having its own philharmonic was a cute and whimsical novelty. After a few years, when it became clear that this group was indeed beloved by those unfamiliar with the tonal intricacies of Mahler, the whimsy wore off and the Cotati Philharmonic was viewed as what it always was: the real thing, not cute at all, but seriously dedicated to the emotional thunder of great music played with passion.

The recent name change is not a change of direction or vision for the growing volunteer-based ensemble. More accurately, it’s a reflection of the group’s readiness to take their mission to the next level.

“In some ways,” says Sakakeeny, “it is a recognition of having finally grown up. Over the last seven years, we’ve gone from being an ad hoc collection of committed people who wanted to contribute something to what is emerging as a major force in the symphonic world of the North Bay. Changing our name is the equivalent of graduating, getting a car and moving out of the house.”

Sakakeeny and his 70-plus musicians have gradually become aware that the self-identity of their orchestra, the way they have been thinking about themselves for seven years, has not been in line with the actual impact they have recently been making. Funded at a modest $40,000 annual budget entirely with donations and grants and performing 18 times last year, the philharmonic is creating some serious buzz. What Sakakeeny and the orchestra have created in Cotati is more than an entertainment or community service–it is part of a nationwide musical movement in which small towns across the nation embrace the concept of having their own all-volunteer, fully democratic philharmonic orchestras.

One goal of the APA is to establish a total of 25 regional American Philharmonics over the next quarter century. The growing town of Surprise, Ariz., will join the ranks in 2008 with the debut performance of its American Philharmonic-Surprise. The city of Surprise is currently building a 1,500-seat concert hall for the ensemble, which will become its rent-free home. That’s how serious the notion of a hometown philharmonic is being taken.

While his own orchestra remains without a concert hall, Sakakeeny believes that he and his musicians get far more out of being in the philharmonic than they put into it.

“There’s the whole thing about contributing something for no reason except to do it, because you’re passionate about it, and you want to share that with other people–that’s a spiritual payback,” he says. “It’s uplifting and inspiring. It’s always an incredibly moving thing. It’s truly spiritual.”

Currently rehearsing for the big season opener on the weekend of Oct. 21, the philharmonic is not squeamish when it comes to tackling the greatest and most difficult compositions. The opener, for which the orchestra will be joined by Sonoma’s violin w¸nderkind Nigel Armstrong, will include Beethoven’s “Leonore” Overture no. 3, three works by Saint-Saëns and Brahms’ Symphony no. 3.

To Sakakeeny, there’s nothing better than doing a concert and witnessing the way the music affects and surprises so many people.

“Baby boomers, with no real experience with concert music, come up with tears in their eyes,” he says. “They say things like, ‘Oh my God, I had no idea. I’ve never been to the orchestra and I wouldn’t have come tonight if it hadn’t have been free–and you blew my brains out! I’ll bring my family to this kind of thing from now on and forever.’ And then they go out and buy Santa Rosa Symphony tickets because now they get it.

“It’s like they’ve been converted,” Sakakeeny laughs. “And that really is our mission, like a secular-spiritual-artistic mission, to win converts to the almighty power of classical music.”

The American Philharmonic-Sonoma County performs Friday-Sunday, Oct. 21-23, at the Spreckels Performing Arts Center. Friday-Saturday at 8pm (Friday is a dress rehearsal); Sunday at 3pm. 5409 Snyder Lane, Rohnert Park. Free; donations hugely welcomed. 707.793.2177.




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Ask Sydney

October 11-17, 2006

Dear Sydney, I’m in my mid-20s. I have focused my career goals toward anything outdoors. I’m a trained climbing instructor, ski guide and wilderness guide. I’ve done extensive training and have worked in many capacities, including working with troubled teens at an outdoor-centered high school. My parents have helped me financially to some degree, although I’ve been predominantly independent. My problem is that my parents and extended family are dropping lots of unsubtle hints about me deciding on a career. It seems that they want me to commit to a schooling venture (college), and they don’t have much respect for my processes or ideas. I’ll be traveling to my hometown soon–how can I prevent any misunderstandings and keep my family relations sweet?–Unhappy Camper

Dear Camper: You are too focused and motivated to let your family’s doubt drag you down! If you were working a low-end job, nursing a nagging drug habit and spending all of your free time watching Star Trek reruns, well, then I might counsel you differently. But it seems as though you know what you love and are motivated enough to pursue it. So what’s the problem? Many people have looming familial expectations that they feel they do not live up to. This is just one of the down sides to having a family.

When you go to visit them, stop putting off the inevitable and bring those dropped hints out into the open. Do your best to listen, instead of becoming defensive and shutting them out. If your family feels that you are open to hearing them, they might be more receptive to hearing you. And, hey, there could be some good reasons for you to go to college, so don’t rule it out, especially if they want to pay for it!

This is their way of trying to protect you. Listen to what they have to say, say thanks and then reassure them that you are quite capable of figuring out your own path, but that should your carabiner prove defective, you will not hesitate to let them know, and to ask for their opinions and help so you can keep from tumbling down that mountain.

Dear Sydney, you assure that there’s “No question too off the wall.” OK. In recent months, I’ve been experimenting with shaving my pubic hair. It feels good, it’s exciting and I’ve gotten good reviews. My problem is that I’ve been shaving with an electric shaver all my life and it’s obviously not the ideal tool for the job. I know there are all sorts of space-age shaving gadgets out there, plus lots of women who customarily shave. Any advice for a clueless male? –Razorphobic

Dear Razorphobe: Though an electric razor is capable of achieving the task at hand, it is certainly not the proper tool for the job. An electric razor doesn’t give a close enough shave, and if you thought a five o’clock shadow could be a little rough on the cheeks, just try pube stubble. It’s no fun. Go to your local drug store and purchase a high quality razor with replaceable blades. Don’t skimp, go for the highest quality version with a little weight behind it. Pubic hair is pretty coarse, so change the blade often and, please, resist the temptation to go against the hair grain.

Now if you really want to understand the great lengths females have gone in order to achieve desired levels of hairlessness, then you should forgo shaving altogether, go to the beautician and get waxed. Just rip those babies right on out, by the roots. You’ll stay smooth longer, and the hair will grow in softer than it was before. Sound excruciating? It is. But no one ever said beauty came easy, and if women across the globe are willing to get “Brazilian” wax jobs to keep their men content, why should you be afraid of a little ball waxing?

Dear Sydney, I like to drink. A glass of wine (or two or three) sure does go down well after a long day of work. When is it too much, though? I don’t drink every single night, but most nights, at least a glass or two is normal, with the couple times a month a little over that. At this point no one has ever said they were concerned, and I am not too concerned, except I also don’t want to be deluding myself. –Pleasantly Buzzed

Dear Buzzed: It is important to continuously evaluate your habits as you go, so that you are the one in control and not the other way around. Everyone has different limits and expectations when it comes to alcohol consumption, and there is no textbook formula for deciding exactly what is too much. The best way to ensure that you are in charge of the wine, and not the other way around, is to keep an open dialogue with yourself and with the people in your life. Every so often, check in with your partner or with the people you spend the most time with. Ask them what they think. If you’re not embarrassed to ask, if it doesn’t freak you out to talk about it and if you aren’t afraid to look honestly at how much you drink, you aren’t in denial, and that’s a great sign.

Another great resource for self-diagnosis can be found online. Check out the National Council on Alcoholism and Drug Dependence self-test. Its website provides a list of questions that you can ask yourself. Keep on top of things. Addictions have a way of sneaking up on us so that by the time we realize there’s a problem, it’s often too late. If we were all perfect and completely in control of our lives, we would have no addictions or unhealthy habits at all–no alcohol, no caffeine, no reefer, no tobacco, no sugar, no empty carbohydrates–but most of us aren’t. The best thing we can do is examine our crutches carefully, and moderate, moderate, moderate.

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


The Quiet & the Loud

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October 11-17, 2006

Yo La Tengo have been plugging away at their quietly successful career since 1984. Consistently, the primary fanfare associated with the release of a new Yo La Tengo album is the scramble of pop-music critics to scoop each other on reviews that invariably conclude: “Gee, this sure sounds like a Yo La Tengo album.” Now that its latest album, I Am Not Afraid of You and I Will Beat Your Ass, has been out for more than a month, that fanfare has died down a bit, leaving workaday fans of Hoboken, N.J.’s, most famous trio to luxuriate in fresh but familiar blankets of guitar noise and pop songcraft.

Indeed, I Am Not Afraid sounds like every Yo La Tengo album ever made, and then some. That’s a lot of ground to cover, but the band strap on their cross-training sneakers and ravenously tackle the task, leaping from the atmospheric, lopsided lope of near-epic opener “Pass the Hatchet, I Think I’m Goodkind” to the falsetto-voiced, funk-lite of “Mr. Tough” to the gritty organ riffage of rockers like “The Room Got Heavy” and “I Should Have Known Better.” The album is a like a rubber band, stretching and contracting to accommodate the elasticity of the songs’ moods.

This requires some flexibility on the listener’s part as well, and by the time the album rolls into its 12th track, I Am Not Afraid begins to feel a bit like the last quarter of a distance race. On the album’s closer, “The Story of Yo La Tengo,” Georgia Hubley sings buried, fuzzed-out vocals, but the song, which contentedly crosses the 10-minute mark, is basically an instrumental drone-and-noodle fest that fades off into the sunset, a horizon where Yo La Tengo plays, unheard, into the new dawn. You may come out of the thing with sweat on your brow, but your efforts will not go unrewarded.

With their shared longevity, love of noise and wife-husband creative partnerships (Hubley is married to Ira Kaplan; James McNew completes the band), Yo La Tengo are sort of a low-maintenance Sonic Youth. But being a fan of Yo La Tengo is rewarding for nothing but musical reasons; your allegiance to them will deem you neither square nor hip, and it’s quite frankly, a relief.

The perfect antidote to the breadth of Yo La Tengo came to me thanks to my husband, who answered a Craigslist posting for a drummer. The dude at the other end of the ad was a guy named Patrick Porter, who had moved from Colorado to Yonkers, N.Y., with his girlfriend. Yonkers was not suiting him. He and Mr. Bir Toujour met up for beers at a bar close to Union Square, and they talked about how much New York sucks, and Patrick Porter gave Mr. Bir Toujour some CDRs with his songs. They talked a bit about getting together to play music and promptly did nothing about it.

Meanwhile, Porter’s songs cropped up on the iPod, and they grew on me. “What’s this?” I’d ask when an unfamiliar song would pop up on shuffle, and invariably the answer was, “Oh, that Patrick Porter guy.” Porter’s music had a rich, comforting sparseness, somewhat like American Analog Set without the drones and vibes.

The songs on our iPod were from Lisha Kill, a quiet collection of brooding songs awash in tension from unpredictable swishes of guitar feedback. Die Wandaland, Porter’s new album, just came out; recorded last year in Denver, it’s more upbeat, the instrumentation fuller. Porter’s simple, childlike lyrics ring with a whimsy that’s gently mirrored in nimble but subtle programmed beats and catchy melodies–the stuff of candy-coated folk pop.

Die Wandaland is charming and meditative without falling prey to cutesiness or self-congratulatory navel-gazing–the perfect album to put on in the fall mornings when you drink your coffee and steel yourself for the slings and arrows of another day in the cruel world.

Yo La Tengo play a three-night gig at the Fillmore in San Francisco on Oct. 19-21.


Morsels

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October 4-10, 2006

Petaluma’s TOPs First

Cinnabar Theater, Petaluma’s resident company and training house for area youth, outdoes itself in an ambitious fundraiser that encompasses all of the downtown. Called Taste of Petaluma, this progressive party features a map temptingly decorated with menu items from among some 31 restaurants and businesses. Ticket books ($30 in advance; $35 day of the event) contain 10 opportunities to eat or drink around town. The food and drink tastes are valued at $3 apiece and promise to be substantial. The Smokehouse Gamblers play in Putnam Plaza, there are free boat rides across the river’s murk, and general bonhomie promises to abound. Plus, all of the food and drink tastes are under the strict scrutiny of a fairly yowza team of judges, so there will be no lackluster slices of sweaty cheese anywhere to be seen. Taste of Petaluma spreads out for the first time on Saturday, Oct. 21, from 1pm to 5pm. 707.763.8920. www.tasteofpetaluma.org.

Gretchen Giles

Crushing Breast Cancer

Between 1992 and 1994, winemaker Rick Hutchinson’s lost two sisters, Judy and Janet, to breast cancer. But two years ago, Hutchinson, who owns Amphora Winery in Healdsburg, came up with a unique idea to help combat the disease, which claimed over 41,000 lives last year in the United States alone. On Oct. 15, the winemaker is hosting the second annual Stomp Out Breast Cancer! event, where women hop into grape-filled bins to crush fruit the old-fashioned way. To do the purple-footed honors, participants make a $25 minimum donation, which funds mammograms for those who don’t have health insurance. The juice will then become the raw material for Amphora’s due sorelle (“two sisters” in Italian) wine. Profits from the sales of the wine, along with the donations for stomping, will benefit the Sutter Medical Center’s Breast Care Center in Santa Rosa. Stomp Out Breast Cancer! crushes the disease at Amphora Winery, on Sunday, Oct. 15, from 10am to 4pm. In the Timber Crest Farms Complex, 4791 Dry Creek Road, Healdsburg. 707.431.7767.

Brett Ascarelli

Quick dining snapshots by Bohemian staffers.

Winery news and reviews.

Food-related comings and goings, openings and closings, and other essays for those who love the kitchen and what it produces.

Recipes for food that you can actually make.

Murder in the Second

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music & nightlife |

By David Sason

Almost as soon as a sensational debut appears, the dreaded cloud of second album expectations begins to loom. Always on the lookout for the “sophomore slump,” critics unflinchingly pounce, condemning a group either for deviating too much or not enough from their successful formula. Currently in the hot seat are Las Vegas quartet the Killers, whose new album Sam’s Town is difficult to fit into either category. The roughly cohesive concept album on simpler, bygone days is certainly a departure for the band in its bid for maturity, albeit a forced one. But it merely modifies their path on 2004’s Hot Fuss, which was a charmingly audacious revival of keyboard-laden, early-80s new wave and post-punk. Instead of infusing elements of everyone from New Order to Duran Duran, Sam’s Town visits music from the previous decade.

The title track opens the album in familiar territory, with towering keyboards leading the slow-building rhythm section before morphing into a pure, Kraftwerk-like synthesizer lick. “I’ve got this sentimental heart that beats,” croons singer/keyboardist Brandon Flowers, before admitting his sophomoric apprehension. “I’m so sick of all my judges, so scared of what they find,” he wails above booming drums and guitar chords. What we find here is more of the early 80s, especially with the line, “I know that I can make it, as long as someone takes me home every now and then,” a nod to early advocate Morrissey.

The time travel begins with the short “Enterlude” that follows, where Flowers blatantly informs us that we’re entering concept land by telling us, “We hope you enjoy your stay.” The solo piano accompaniment recalls Queen, and the Rich Little of modern rock singers gives a brave, decent attempt at the grand high notes of the late Freddie Mercury.

More glam rock influences pervade the album, most notably on “My List,” a song which borrows from the bookends of David Bowie’s Ziggy Stardust album. Beginning with slow, sparing percussion and piano stabs a la “Five Years,” the song ascends into an elegant, gigantic celebration lifted from “Rock N’ Roll Suicide.” “Let me show you how much I care,” sings Flowers in his best, purposely cracking, Bowie-biting voice. While the song holds your attention, the ending refrain reminds a little too much of Bowie’s original, “You’re not alone.”

The Killers also channel arena-rock troubadour Springsteen, especially on the sentimental centerpiece, “Read My Mind.” “I never really gave up on breaking out of this two-star town,” Flowers sings, in similar dashboard-poet style. The song drips with Boss-isms such as car metaphors and mentions of “pulling up to your driveway” and, believe it or not, “the promised land.” The song’s E Street instrumentation and teetering vocal melody, though, make it the record’s most enjoyable.

While Sam’s Town certainly serves its nostalgic motif by subtle and overt sounds of the 70s, it doesn’t fulfill the promise of Hot Fuss. Unoriginality actually seemed endearing in the delicious synth-pop majesty of “Mr. Brightside” and “All These Things That I’ve Done,” two songs that nothing on Sam’s Town comes close to emulating. Ambition is praiseworthy, but album concepts don’t compensate for catchy tunes. And unless they use their talent to write more great pop songs, the Killers could come dangerously close to becoming just another clever lounge act from Vegas.




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Letters to the Editor

October 11-17, 2006

Bohemian nominated for Peabody!

Wow! Your (Oct. 4) was fabulous! That really was some wonderful investigative work. It must have taken a full 30 minutes at A’Roma Roasters. Thank you for your pithy journalism. I’ll be sure to call the Peabody Association.

Christopher Bowers, Santa Rosa

world of pain, pt. II

What’s with your fashion writer who bemoans the clothes available at big corporate stores (Express, Abercrombie, J. Crew) and then tells us we may be forced to shop at Macy’s? ( Oct. 4.) Sonoma County (and probably Marin and Napa counties, too, but I haven’t shopped there) are blessed with many small clothing shops with clothing that doesn’t (a) fall apart or (b) reveal your underwear. Some of them even advertise in the Bohemian.

Why confine your shopping conscience to avoiding Walmart when there are so many other places you could avoid too? How about doing a fashion column on local fashion finds?

Judy Helfand, Kenwood

We have done columns highlighting local fashion finds every other time we have been forced–while displaying grossly impolite ill-will–to produce fashion issues (two enormous times a year). And guess what? No letters. Nada. This one time, we tippy-toe out into the frigid waters of emboldened new discovery and–wham!–the letters, they snake in to slam us. Allow us to wipe away a small self-pitying tear. And, oh: sniff.

clear distortions?

When discussing the recent Santa Rosa library forum on immigration ( Oct. 4), Peter Byrne not only does not allow the lone dissenter to the politically correct liberal viewpoint any chance to present her views in her own words, he clearly distorts them. For example, Diversity Alliance for a Sustainable America clearly targets both legal and illegal immigration, as anyone can learn while visiting their informative website.

Without providing any evidence, Byrne sums up Yeh Ling-Ling’s presentation as a “rant” communicating ideas of “exclusion, deportation and selfishness.” He also notes that she “rattled off a ream of questionable statistics,” and, after not actually challenging a single one of her statistics or explaining why he thinks they are questionable, he dispenses with her viewpoint completely by noting that when challenged she “sputtered” and “lost the crowd.” Conversely, the people he agrees with “point things out” and “correctly observe” and are all quoted at length. He then spends the entire second half of his article quoting a single secondary source, a business magazine, to counter his grossly distorted view of the DASA position. What a waste of ink and paper and your readers’ time.

Susan Tremblay, Glen Ellen

Lambasting the latte liberal

Regarding Sept. 27: I’m from the Rust Belt. I grew up in a labor town, have paid dues to three unions and support organized labor. When S.F. hotel union workers struck two years ago, I refused to cross picket lines. It cost me my business. I also ran a non-profit agency in Spokane, Wash., for three and a half years. In partnership, I created, developed and implemented a range of social programs. Our client partners were poor folk–homeless families, singles and street kids as well as scads of physically and mentally disabled people, broken war vets and marginalized elderly living in run-down dwellings.

I’ve seen the pain, and I’ve felt my own. But it’s one thing getting screwed by business-is-business Republicans. I expect that. Unfortunately, I’ve come also to expect well-intentioned Beemer & Brie latte liberals to do the very same.

And that drives me up a freakin’ wall!

Paul Potocki, Rohnert Park

Dept. of aaarrrgggh!

In last week’s of Lobby Hero and I Am My Own Wife (“Secrets & Lies”), a stupid editing error made by a stupid editor–and there is only one–tangled up the caption. Lobby Hero is enjoying a hit run at the Sixth Street Playhouse in Santa Rosa, not the Rep in Sebastopol (that’s Wife).

Also, thanks to the icy-voiced gentleman who left a chillingly furious message informing us that each and every single bloody time we report on the talents of actor Steven Abbott-with-two-tees, we misspell his surname. Apologies are not even adequate, Steven. Come on down for a hug when you can.

The ed.
Lounging in the loge


Meet the Maestro

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the arts |

C’est la vie: Bruno Ferrandis’ curiosity and intelligence lead him.

By Gabe Meline

On a rainy afternoon in October, Bruno Ferrandis is settled in front of a fourth-floor window overlooking downtown Santa Rosa. In the approaching week, he will be officially instated as the new conductor of the Santa Rosa Symphony, and he explains in no small detail the most important lesson he learned about the position while studying in New York with Leonard Bernstein.

“Lenny was a superb musician, and he was able to communicate so well,” Ferrandis says, sipping from a mug of hot tea. “But before everything, he was himself. He was not playing a role, he was just being himself. If he needed to use the word ‘fart’ in rehearsal to make a tuba or brass player understand what effect he wanted in the music, he would not hesitate one second.”

Like Bernstein, the 46-year-old Ferrandis excels at the art of being himself. He speaks six languages, has a taste for the avant-garde in dance and opera, has worked with film director Atom Egoyan and studies ancient Hebrew and Greek for pleasure. Those expecting the stiff upper lip of a traditional classical director will instead see a charismatic man of gusto when Ferrandis makes his inaugural walk to the podium on Oct. 14.

On this rainy day, having just traveled from his home outside of Paris, the maestro is lively, expressive and earnest; the more excited he gets, the more endearing and fractured his English becomes. He continues on about Bernstein.

“In Europe, people tend to be more reserved or academic, especially the European maestros,” he frowns. “Either they put a tantrum on you if what you do is not correct, or they reserve their opinion and they give it to you out in a very plain, academic way. And Lenny was all but not that! Everything was all the contrary.”

Dressed in a simple black suit, Ferrandis’ tall frame is topped with dark hair showing slight, emerging strains of gray, his wide eyes textured with equal parts of experience and vigor. While speaking, he looks directly at his subject in a locked gaze, making elaborate, nondescript gestures with his hands. He holds his fingers up into numbers, draws outlines of imaginary objects, simulates piano playing on the edge of the table and routinely punctuates his phrases with small motions, as if reaching for a baton.

Although he has been immersed in classical studies from the age of five, he explains that “it’s part of my history to listen to other music, because my parents are not classical-music-based, they have a different background. We were listening to the Pink Floyd, my father finding the group very interesting; the sounds were modern for the time, it was not your classical rock music. I listen to a lot of different things in my life. Always. I’m curious. By nature, I’m a very curious human being.

“I am always being impressed with people like Sting,” he continues. “Very much impressed with his capacity to not only invent a song with very good lyrics but also the orchestration beyond. Very, very simple and very well done. As pop singers, there’s Björk. I don’t know if you know that person, Björk. The Icelandic person. Incredible person! And as a youngster, since I practiced double-bass, I was very much taken by all the American funk people. I was impressed with Jaco Pastorius, I was impressed with people like Stanley Clarke, with Earth, Wind & Fire, with Stevie Wonder. Again, very much intrigued by the orchestration. Frank Zappa–a very interesting feature of American music. A very rare person, a very special artist.”

Despite the looming influence of American iconoclasts, Ferrandis says that he was not much of a troublemaker as a child. “My revolt was more inside than outside,” he explains. “What I hated about the French academic system is that in France, you are rigidly imposed what to do, what to learn and that follows that.”

When he left his studies in France to accept a position in London at the age of 21, he found he had much more breathing room. “The Anglo-Saxon system of teaching is to give you the output,” he says, “and you take the material, and you do what you can with it. You sort of manage it. Your way. And that, I really appreciated the difference.”

Since then–including a 10-year run at Juilliard leading the Opera Center and the Pre-College Orchestra, picking up extra money playing after-hours piano in various Manhattan bars–Ferrandis managed his music career in his own way. He worked with a variety of modern composers including Pierre Boulez and Luciano Berio, and he has conducted all over the world, from Israel to Hong Kong, covering most of the standard classical repertoire as well as conducting a real-time score for Fritz Lang’s Metropolis, one of his favorite films.

“I must say that the movies of today have disappointed me greatly,” he laments, launching into an overview of the silver screen. “I think that on the French side and on the American side of moviemaking, today there is no poetry. There is nothing that transports you very much so, other than production and lots of materialistic costs.”

“But in general I am an old-timer,” he adds. “Something like Spartacus by Stanley Kubrick is a great movie for me. The music is extraordinary. There’s always a link between the music and the film for me. I like Charlie Chaplin very much for his sense of being the saddest and the funniest at once–the extremes of life.”

“I like some, some of Woody Allen’s movies. Not all, but some. I like very much the movies where the dialogue is very strong. The scripts are very important. Lubitsch, Ernst Lubitsch. I like also Japanese movies, the old ones. The Seven Samurai. Also, I have a liking for certain types of Italian movies. Fellini’s Prova d’Orchestra, Comencini, Rossellini.”

Ferrandis expresses similar zeal for the opportunity to premiere modern classical works alongside repertoire standbys. “We have the Magnum Opus Project,” he says, alluding to the new works commission project funded by patron Kathryn Gould, “which is very reassuring to me because I would not have come to a place where new music was completely barred from being in the program. Now, what I want to do is to promote that music, but to do it with taste, and to do it by not mixing the ingredients at the wrong moment–like you do when you do cookery.”

With a plan to relocate to the Bay Area with his fiancée and two-year-old daughter, Ferrandis is unconcerned about coming to America amidst heated political atmosphere. When asked his feelings about this, he gently bites his hand, pondering his words carefully. “First of all,” he says, “even as I apprehend myself, as a Frenchman, the judgment of all American people has changed about this war and its necessity.

“I don’t know more than that and I don’t want to judge on that,” he says. “All I can say is the people of this community have been extremely nice to me, and I’ve never felt any rancor or any kind of negative feeling about that fact that I was French. On the contrary, it is all positive.”

Ferrandis’ real burden comes from taking the place of longtime, much-beloved music director Jeffrey Kahane, and understanding the oversized shoes that he has been asked to fill. “Mr. Kahane is a wonderful artist and a great conductor,” he says, “and on top of it, a great pianist, which I envy very much, since I am not! I have a very big sense of responsibility. I’m very honored, very excited to be here, to fulfill that position. And now, I let the public judge on my work.”

The public, of course, has already spoken its approval for Ferrandis with his triumph in the Santa Rosa Symphony’s homespun version of American Idol last season, in which seven guest conductors vied for the podium. “I loved the fact that the audience had their say, children had their say, members of the board had their say, musicians had their say,” Ferrandis enthuses about the unique process. “I feel that my election, so to speak–it’s not political because it’s artistic, but it is an election–was at least done in the most possible democratic way. I loved it.”

Looking out the window, I ask if he has noticed the banners draped along the streets of downtown Santa Rosa, proclaiming his arrival. “Yes, I’ve noticed that, to my dismay,” he laughs. “I would not have necessarily presented it that way, put myself on a banner. But I think, ‘Why not?’ It’s what is felt with the orchestra. I am a man of consensus. I like that everybody’s happy.

“I am very confident that we are going to do a good job together,” he concludes, “and that we are going to work hard in order to present the best possible music-making.”

Bruno Ferrandis conducts the Santa Rosa Symphony in works by Shostakovich, Prokofiev and Tchaikovsky with guest soloist Joyce Yang performing on piano, Saturday-Monday, Oct. 14-16. Saturday and Monday at 8pm; Saturday rehearsal at 2pm; Sunday at 3pm. Wells Fargo Center, 50 Mark West Springs Road, Santa Rosa. $6-$49. 707.546.8742.



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First Bite

Biting into a shiso leaf, also called perilla or Japanese basil, is tantamount to tasting what a forest smells like: woodsy, invigorating and damply mossy. Served alongside a slippery cut of sashimi, with its almost peach-fuzz texture, the shiso leaf is the ultimate garnish. But the delicate flavor of shiso has been unfortunately absent from these parts. Until now.

This spring, a new sushi restaurant, Shiso, opened in Sonoma to fill the gap. On a recent weeknight, my trusty foodie partner and I wandered in hoping at long last to get some quality Japanese food in wine country. Although startlingly pricey, the menu is impressive, offering a range of traditional fare–sushi, nigiri, sashimi, hand rolls–as well as shared plates of cooked food for those who are squeamish about eating raw fish. They also offer omakase, where the chef surprises diners with a variety of dishes off the menu.

While deliberating over our choices, we drank the Otokoyama sake ($18 for a carafe) from an extensive list of some 14 sakes and 22 wines. We were pleasantly surprised by the dry, crisp rice wine despite our server’s diplomatic warning that it wasn’t her favorite.

Eventually, we made our food decisions. First came three seared Hokkaido scallops ($14) with heirloom tomato salad, avocado mousse and shiso oil, a masterful combination of delicate, California-inspired textures and subtle flavors. Next came the summer sashimi deluxe ($31), 15 pieces of jaw-droppingly delicious fish, including North Coast albacore, salmon, maguro tuna and toro. The toro was a genuinely transporting experience, buttery and rich, everything that toro should be but rarely is. When only one piece remained, my partner began negotiations. “OK, let’s talk about how we want to do this.”

We were still hungry, so we ordered a special roll, the Shiso Hawaiian ($15): spicy albacore, avocado and cucumber wrapped in a colorful combination of seaweed, mango and maguro tuna. Again Ed Metcalfe, the 39-year-old chef-owner, wowed us with an unpredictable combination. The sweet, slippery mango played delectably against the texture of the fish. Now merely greedy, we ordered melt-in-your-mouth anikmo, a monkfish liver topped with a classical Japanese garnish of grated daikon radish mixed with chili ($9) and a very good freshwater unagi ($4).

My only minute complaint was that a restaurant of this quality shouldn’t have linoleum tables. And if the lights had been dimmer, it would have been more romantic. But it doesn’t matter–I am already in love with Shiso.

Shiso Modern Asian & Sushi Bar is open for dinner Tuesday-Sunday; last seating around 9pm. Happy hour, 4:30-6pm. 522 Broadway, Sonoma. 707.933.9331.



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Meet the Maestro

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First Bite

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