Chiyomi Longo

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Film Friendly: Chiyomi Longo’s work is often seen on film sets, though it merits a longer look.

Seed of the Mind

Chiyomi Longo’s painting in full flower

By Gretchen Giles

For a painter whose meditative images spring from the traditional Japanese tea ceremony and the elements of earth, water, and air; whose concerns are with the straight line and the circle; and whose palette is specifically drawn from what her professors told her exactly not to use, Chiyomi Taneike Longo certainly gets a lot of mass-media air time.

In a sweetly strange career twist surely never hinted at in art school, the Santa Rosa artist’s large abstract works are regularly seen gracing the walls of such TV shows as Will and Grace, CSI, 24, Just Shoot Me! and Alias. In fact, in a recent Alias episode, a character wouldn’t have been able to escape the evil Eastern Europeans inevitably trying to assassinate him if it weren’t for the clever placement of a oversized Longo painting. Her canvas naturally obscured a secret passageway that led the actor back to a presumably more democratic form of freedom. And speaking of the Democrats, just this past summer Red, White, and Blonde‘s Reese Witherspoon campaigned for justice among plush set hangings featuring Longo’s work.

All of which is both a bonus and a shame. A bonus because she’s getting near-constant exposure, Longo having no idea in advance which TV shows or film companies have chosen to adorn their sets with her work, which is brokered for rent through a Los Angeles production company. More of a doer than a watcher, she hasn’t even seen most of the sitcoms and dramas that feature her paintings.

And a shame because the more one looks at a Chiyomi Longo painting, the more one wants to look at it. A quick blur as it snaps cannily shut upon a secret passageway is certainly not enough. For those who demand the deeper look, a one-person exhibition of her work titled “Doublecounterpoint” shows Oct. 10 through Nov. 23 at the Quicksilver Mine Company.

Making a thoughtful splash behind Reese Witherspoon’s cinematic back and having the first one-person exhibition at a new gallery space have not come easily for Longo. A native of Japan, she emigrated to the United States in 1950 to attend college. In 1961, unhappily married with two young children, she met artist Al Longo, also unhappily married with two young children, in Hawaii. That rare and brilliant gutsy thrash of intense connection that supersedes all other considerations compelled them to break and mend hearts and families, and moved them forward to California.

But then Al stopped painting, for reasons he does not readily discuss. Chiyomi stopped too, explaining that she “just couldn’t bear to paint in the same house.” For 16 years, she kept away from the canvas, slaking her artistic thirst with a growing mastery of the tea ceremony, until, she says seated at her dining table and gesturing to her thorax, she could feel it all welling horribly up inside of her.

So she did what few middle-aged married women might have the courage to do: she enrolled at the San Francisco Art Institute, moved in with her grown daughter for proximity, worked nights at a hotel restaurant, and finally gained her MFA in 1995. She was almost 60 years old.

Such effort isn’t hinted of in her painting, cool spacious abstracts that for the “Doublecounterpoint” exhibition are greatly concerned with the pattern and surface of collage upon panels. She uses the grids and straight lines that mark the architecture and gardens of her childhood as a recurring motif, utilizes the shape of the zero because, she says, “the zero needs another number, it cannot stand alone,” and draws from music, myth, time, and the Zen concept of energy to inform her work.

Working with negative space, with diptychs that manage to both contradict and complement each other, and by inscribing and then obscuring her work in layers, Longo creates individual floating worlds with each piece. With this latest series, she explores the concept of the “seed of the mind.” A Japanese koan tracing the transformation of the soul from a sprout of desire slowly fertilized by a lifetime of hard work, Longo says quietly, “Someday I hope to blossom into the true flower of my mind.” Some would say that she already has.

‘Doublecounterpoint’ exhibits Oct. 10 through Nov. 23 at the Quicksilver Mine Co., 6671 Front St., Hwy. 116, Forestville. A reception for the artist is scheduled for Sunday, Oct. 12 from 4pm to 6pm. Gallery hours are 11am to 6pm daily. Free. 707.887.0799.

From the October 9-15, 2003 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Cannabis

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Photograph by Rory McNamara

Pain Pops: For now, Beckie Nikkel takes her medication in candy form–until the government sees fit to allow her legal methods.

How to Spell Relief: CANNABIS

Nature’s oldest drug is now the world’s newest pharmaceutical

By Mari Kane

Beckie Nikkel does not consider herself a “sufferer” of multiple sclerosis because she has learned to deal with the disease by taking control of the medicine she takes. Five years ago, the 50-year-old Santa Rosa grandmother was taking a dozen different meds, some to counteract the side effects of others, and her next step would have been to use a baclofen pump to stop the muscle spasms, which would have rendered her legs useless. That’s when she turned to cannabis and became active with the Sonoma Alliance for Medical Marijuana. In late September, she joined a convocation of activist organizations in Washington, D.C., to lobby congress and the National Multiple Sclerosis Society about cannabis.

“I used to use a vaporizer, but now I do more ingesting of cannabis nectars and candy,” she says, referring to THC-laden pops distributed privately. “Those suckers work wonders, but I would love to have other natural options, especially if they were covered by insurance.”

Though the federal government’s stance against all things cannabis continues to thwart the efforts of Nikkel and many others, research in Europe–where the climate is remarkably milder when it comes to marijuana–is pushing forward.

At the head of the new wave, British-based GW Pharmaceuticals stands out. Under government license and using plant strains developed by HortaPharm of Amsterdam (owned by expatriate Americans David Watson and Robert Clark), the company grows high-grade, finely tuned marijuana at a secret location in the south of England. With that crop, GW has isolated beneficial cannabinoids–the active ingredients of cannabis–and created a sublingual (under the tongue) spray for the treatment of multiple sclerosis symptoms.

Of course, Beckie Nikkel currently has no chance of getting her hands on the medicine legally. If she did, according to GW’s three years of clinical trials, she could find relief from her neuropathic pain and muscle spasms, and she could get a more peaceful sleep. Her appetite would increase. If Betty Nikkel could get GW’s medicine (a blend of two cannabinoids brand-named Sativex) through her insurance company, she could feel a lot better.

GW Pharmaceuticals hopes to gain approval from the British government for Sativex by the end of this year. In May, the company signed a lucrative marketing agreement with the German pharmaceutical giant Bayer to help them launch the product in Europe in 2004. So now, the world’s first natural cannabis pharmaceutical maker has nowhere to go but up, yet the inevitable question remains, how high?

Cannabis may well be one of the world’s greatest natural remedies. Human beings have long used cannabis to relieve symptoms of everything from nausea to pain. In fact, the human relationship to cannabis is so tightly ingrained in our physiology that special receptors have evolved in our brains to link to the chemical components of the plant.

Cannabis sativa, what we now know as “marijuana,” officially entered the Western pharmacopoeia over one and a half centuries ago, during Victorian times, when cannabis medicines were administered in the form of tinctures. Queen Victoria is perhaps the most celebrated consumer of early cannabis tonics.

Having a record of no known cases of fatal overdose in the history of the world, the safety of marijuana is miles ahead of even aspirin. The biggest side effects of cannabis are euphoria and possibly paranoia. With its reputation of being one of the least toxic therapeutic substances on earth, the market potential for quality-assured, health-insured cannabis drugs has not gone unnoticed by pharmaceutical companies.

Marijuana is nothing without cannabinoids. These molecules of medicament are found in the millions of tiny, resinous pistils that shoot from the cannabis leaves. The mightiest cannabinoid of all is delta-9 tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), from which the famed euphoric effect is attributed. But cannabis therapy does not end with THC. All kinds of analgesic, antispasmodic, anticonvulsant, antitremor, antipsychotic, anti-inflammatory, anti-emetic, and appetite-stimulant benefits are derived from other, lesser known cannabinoids, such as cannabinadiol (CBD). GW Pharmaceuticals has combined THC and CBD to make Sativex.

“Our intention, once we have a product license application in the U.K., is to use the mutual recognition procedure to obtain approvals in other European Union member states, probably during 2004,” says GW’s spokesperson Mark Rogerson. “We will also be seeking to market the product in Commonwealth countries such as Australia, New Zealand, and Canada. The U.S. market is a longer-term objective.”

Rogerson is not kidding when he says America is a market they’ll have to wait for. The Bush administration and the Supreme Court remain in denial of marijuana’s medical benefits, and the new DEA administrator Karen Tandy has indicated that raids against California compassion clubs will continue.

By contrast, Europe and Canada have made great strides toward marijuana decriminalization, efforts which often incur the wrath of the U.S. government. Once Sativex is approved in Europe, intrepid American patients who attempt to smuggle it home will have to answer to the customs man, just as if the drug were hashish.

“If [Sativex] has not been approved by the FDA, we would not let it enter the country,” said U.S. Customs Service spokesperson Michael Fleming. “If it is prohibited entry, there could be civil and possible criminal penalties attached.”

While the FDA refuses to comment on drugs not currently under review, it is expected that no matter what the political climate, any cannabis-related drug would have to undergo the same three-stage approval process as all others.

Stage one of the process involves preclinical research on animals and submission of the Investigational New Drug Application to the FDA. Stage two includes clinical research on humans in five phases.

The catch with conducting clinical trials using natural whole cannabis or its extracts is receiving the special permission to handle a substance that currently tops schedule one of the DEA’s controlled substances list–more or less, the America’s most wanted of drugs. Permission often includes the requirement to use low-quality, government-issued pot grown on a federal farm in Mississippi.

Finally, stage three involves FDA review and, hopefully, approval of the New Drug Application. Only after many years and millions of dollars later is the new drug marketed. Meanwhile, patients continue
to smoke their medicine.

GW Pharmaceuticals has not revealed the cost of Sativex to patients or their insurance providers, leaving that to Bayer, but a full-time regimen is expected to be expensive, making some wonder if this is not snake oil in a hemp package.

Some of the most vociferous criticism of Sativex comes from within the medical marijuana movement itself. Dr. Lester Grinspoon, emeritus professor of psychiatry at Harvard Medical Center and author of Marihuana: The Forbidden Medicine and Marihuana Reconsidered, says that smoked pot is still less expensive, more convenient, and more reactive than extracts, so why buy Sativex?

“I imagine [Sativex] will be as efficacious as smoked marijuana, but it’s not as good because you can’t titrate it,” he maintains. Titration involves incrementally increasing the dosage to achieve the desired relief. “Fifteen to 45 minutes is too long to titrate. You want immediate effects and you don’t want to go too far, but the longer the effect takes to come on, the more difficult it is to titrate it.”

Grinspoon is convinced that, despite the widespread fear of smoke inhalation, smoking is still the best way to titrate cannabis, because the cannabinoids go from the lungs to the heart and directly into the brain all within a minute.

According to Rogerson, regular users of Sativex have figured out how many squirts they need. “Patients in the clinical trials reported that it was not difficult over a few days to establish a dosage regime,” he says. “The fact that it only takes a few minutes to determine symptom relief allows for effective titration.”

As far as where the market lies for a competitor against street pot, Rogerson says the demographics include any patients seeking a medicine approved by the regulatory authorities on the grounds of quality, safety, and efficacy. “We believe that many patients will wish to use a medicine that is legally prescribed, does not require smoking, is of guaranteed quality, and is available from their doctor.”

While Sativex is the first drug made with natural cannabis extract, it is by no means the first attempt to pharmaceuticalize pot. The synthetic THC drug, dronabinol, brand name Marinol, was approved by the government in 1986, essentially to solve the “marijuana problem” by pharmaceuticalizing it. However, Marinol capsules require one and a half to two hours to take effect, so titration is key.

But, Grinspoon warns, if you take too much, you’ll get very high; if you take too little, you get no relief after all that waiting. “I have never had a patient who has used both marijuana and Marinol who doesn’t prefer marijuana,” Grinspoon declares. The onset time of GW’s extract spray is quicker than the oral delivery of Marinol, but it is still slower than smoking.

Around the world, more pharmaceuticals are turning on to marijuana, putting more cannabinoid drugs into the pipeline. The Israeli company Pharmos has created a synthetic dextrocannabinoid product called dexanabinol for the treatment of head trauma and stroke, and recently began phase three trials for FDA approval in the United States, the first of its kind in this country.

Synthetic cannabinoids are analogues of cannabis, with a similar chemical structure, built in the lab and not derived from natural cannabis. Since they are not handling a controlled substance, producers of synthetic cannabinoid drugs are not legally hamstrung like GW pharmaceuticals is.

Previous trials have shown that dexanabinol prevents ischemia, which is a reduction of blood flow to the brain that can cause cell death. A single injection of dexanabinol given within six-hours after a traumatic brain injury protects against neurological deterioration. And, since head injury victims don’t need more of a buzz, dexanabinol is designed not bind to the brain’s receptors that stimulate the psychotropic effects.

The use of cannabinoids to treat head injury is supported by the famously ignored 1999 report by the National Academy of Sciences’ Institute of Medicine which concluded that marijuana’s neuroprotective qualities are the “most prominent” of its potential therapeutic applications. If all goes according to the company’s plan, dexanabinol will become the world’s first therapeutic treatment for traumatic brain injuries, greeted by a global market valued at over $1 billion.

For investors, this is an exciting time to make money on the worlds oldest cultivated plant. GW’s stock price has doubled in the past two years. Irv Rosenfeld of Lauderhill, Fla., is perhaps the only American broker selling GW and Pharmos stock, and he believes that as awareness and demand rise, so will the stock price.

“GW stock will get a shot in the arm when Sativex is approved in England, and every time another country approves it, it will get another shot,” Rosenfeld predicts.

Rosenfeld is also enthusiastic about Pharmos and expects its stock to do well once phase three studies are presented to the FDA one to two years from now, and once the company finds a strategic marketing partner.

“The difference is that Pharmos has just one cannabinoid they’re working with, where GW is working with more than one,” Rosenfeld notes. “But Pharmos is going to be able to use dexanabinol in other areas of treatment, which will also be very beneficial to their stock.”

Rosenfeld is a singular broker of cannabis pharmaceutical stock, claiming to have 32 years of due diligence in the area. As the longest surviving member of the now-closed federal Compassionate Investigational New Drug program, Rosenfeld has been smoking 10 to 12 cannabis cigarettes per day for over 30 years to repress his recurrent bone tumors. For the past 20 of these years, his supply has come from Uncle Sam, the same entity that refuses to admit that pot has medical value.

“All these years they’ve been telling me marijuana is not medicinal. It’s nice to finally be vindicated on that point,” Rosenfeld says.

While there may be disagreement over the superiority of smoked marijuana to extracts, one thing most observers agree on is that the commercial success of any cannabis drugs is certain to affect U.S. drug policy. After all, how long can anyone deny marijuana’s medical efficacy after publicly owned pharmaceutical companies start selling prescription extracts of the stuff?

“The success of any cannabinoid medicine will depend on how diligently prohibition is pursued,” Grinspoon suggests. “If there were no prohibition, who would take Sativex? Only people who believe that men in white coats writing on prescription pads have some thing magical you can’t get any other way.”

Rosenfeld forecasts that when people find out about Sativex, they will start smuggling it and demanding to have it here. That market demand will eventually force the government’s hand.

“I don’t believe the government will allow [Sativex] in without more phase three studies to prove it’s a legitimate medicine,” he says. “But once that happens, they will be forced to deal with marijuana as a plant.”

GW Pharmaceutical chairman Dr. Geoffrey Guy has admitted that his drugs could push U.S. agencies against the wall. In a rare interview in Cannabis Culture magazine, Dr. Guy said, “If our medicines are approved and being used across Europe, it is going to be hard for the U.S. to dismiss the process. They’d have to criticize U.K. doctors and institutions whose reputations are beyond question. They’d have to ignore the clear scientific evidence from a variety of clinical trials. They’d have to ignore the fact that our cannabis medicines are providing relief to patients that no other medicines can provide.”

Indeed, in Nikkel’s case, the prescription drugs she once took actually exacerbated her MS symptoms and reduced her quality of life. The testimonial page of GW’s website features many patient statements along the order of “life was hell before I started using cannabis.”

“When there are natural medications out there that can be used, I don’t understand why people are having to suffer,” says Nikkel. “With MS, there is no cure, so you want the best quality of life you can have. To me, that’s the most important thing.”

For more information on GW Pharmaceuticals (London Stock Exchange: GWP), see www.gwpharm.com or Pharmos (Nasdaq: PARS), www.pharmoscorp.com.

From the October 9-15, 2003 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Antenna Theater

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The Sands of Time: Antenna’s ECOlogical calendar looks nothing like the old Gregorian stalwarts–and shows time in an entirely different light.

A Key to Slow Time

From the minds of Antenna Theater comes a whole new way of measuring our days in the universe

By Sara Bir

If the Eiffel Tower were now representing the world’s age, the skin of paint on the pinnacle-knob at its summit would represent man’s share of that age, and anybody would perceive that that skin was what the tower was built for. I reckon they would, I dunno.
–Mark Twain

About 13.7 billion years. According to NASA, that’s how long the universe has been around since the big bang banged. And before there were 12 months a year and seven days a week, the earth moved around the sun and the moon moved around the earth, and that’s what time was.

Enter the human. There was day and night and planting and harvest and winter, and that’s what time was.

From the time we are very young children, the months of the year are drilled into our consciousness. You know them by the date of your birthday and when school lets out for the summer and when holidays that mean presents come around. And then as an adult, calendars dictate our lives–rigid, faceless boxes and numbers stacked on top of each other.

Chris Hardman, artistic director of the groundbreaking Antenna Theater in Sausalito, decided it didn’t have to be like that.

For the past two years, Antenna has been working on a calendar that imagines the days of the year as threads that intertwine in a cosmic dance.

“It originally came out of a project called AllTime, which I started before the millennium,” says Hardman. “Being a theater company, would we do a big party and celebrate it as an important event in the history of mankind? The outcome was that the millennium was pretty meaningless–to be talking about 2,000 years is nothing in the real world of time. I started looking into the implications of having a calendar starting from the beginning of time.”

Antenna’s outcome was the ECOlogical calendar, which Hardman says will be the first calendar that will have the true age of the universe on it. They’ve been working on it for two years, and next year, Petaluma’s Pomegranate Communications, which specializes in calendars, posters, bookmarks, and cards, will put out a 2005 edition of the ECOlogical calendar.

To understand Hardman’s inspiration for creating a entirely new calendar, you need to understand where our present calendar came from. The Gregorian calendar was created in 1582 by Pope Gregory XIII and was largely based on the Julian calendar–which was largely based on the Egyptian calendar. “Julius Caesar just brought it back and said, ‘You, Romans, are now going to accept this calendar.’ He enforced it,” Hardman says. “The Julian calendar was so successful in terms of keeping in track with the solar year that it went on for 1,000-some years since its creation, all the way to Gregory.”

“The initial idea [for the ECOlogical calendar] was to pull the calendar back down to the earth experience itself,” Hardman says. “The only scientific and rational thing the Gregorian calendar has to offer us is it knows the actual time of the solar year. Other than that, it is essentially completely wrong about everything. It doesn’t start on a solstice or an equinox; it starts at a very arbitrary moment in time which has no natural connection to the earth and its orbit around the sun.”

The names of the months assigned to the Gregorian calendar have totally lost their meaning over time. Both July and August are named after dead Roman emperors, while the months September, October, November, and December have numerically derived names that don’t even apply anymore–i.e., December, the 12th month, is named for “deca,” or “10.”

Mary Russo McAfee, coordinator and manager of the AllTime project, did much of the research for the ECOlogical calendar. “We looked back at the way other cultures looked at the years. And then we started looking at the French Revolutionary calendar of 1793. Every single day had its own name. They had 12 months of 30 days, but that only added up to 360 days . . . so they tacked on five holidays. Every fifth day was an animal, and every 10th day was a farming implement. And everything else was an actual growing thing or something of the earth. We took a lot of inspiration from that.”

So for the ECOlogical calendar, they renamed the days and months, giving the passing of dates a poetic lilt instead of a dry, numerical feel. So instead of Jan. 9, 10, and 11, you have ClearNight, WindChill, and Rime.

“There’s no such thing called a week,” Hardman adds. “We’ve inherited a seven-day cycle, but that’s completely arbitrary and has no reflection to anything. Whereas the lunations of the moon actually do exist, and the seasons do exist. So we lay it down in a line so that you can experience all of these events as they are happening through time. You can also think of the ECOlogical calendar as a progression through space.”

That spatial relationship is reflected along the top of the calendar, where the sky’s position in relation to the Northern Hemisphere is illustrated, creating a map of the season’s sky. The phases of the moon, the tides, and the amount of sunlight in a day are also represented and accessible at a glance. It’s almost like an almanac in that way, only with a clear visual sense of continuity.

The ECOlogical calendar can be displayed a number of ways. It will have a threefold design, allowing it to be stood up on a mantel or desk, or the entire scroll can be posted on the wall for a more continuous reflection.

The ECOlogical calendar omits holidays but still lists the Gregorian dates and months. “This is the parallel universe we’re offering here,” says Hardman. “Whether people begin to adopt this calendar is something we can only offer. This is all essentially scientifically derived information that we can get from other sources. The only difference that we’re offering is that it’s experiential through the year. We try to give something that leaves you with a sense of where you are in that time.”

Antenna isn’t poised to push the ECOlogical calendar as the one new mode of keeping time. It’s more of a supplement, a key to unlock the cycles of nature that our modern lifestyles have pushed away. As everyone with a job knows, we can’t get by without knowing if it’s Monday the 22nd or Wednesday the 24th.

“People are going to continue to need that style of thing in their lives,” Hardman says of the Gregorian calendar. “What we’re saying is put our calendar above it and at least have a fighting chance to have a decent day and a good sense of the world that you’re in, ease that transition.”

“One of our main inspirations that we have,” Russo McAfee says, “is someone on the 40th floor in Manhattan can look at this and be somehow given that larger vision of what’s going on, and hopefully people will adjust their lives accordingly.”

If the ECOlogical calendar does find its audience, the spinoff possibilities include a journal/daybook with the information for each individual day listed on different pages, an interactive screen saver that changes daily, and Southern Hemisphere editions.

It used to be that our survival was dependent on identifying the cycles of nature so that we could anticipate them. “A hundred years ago, living on a farm, we’d know a lot of this stuff; you had to,” says Russo McAfee. “It was just passed on. The idea that nature isn’t something you go to a park for–nature is in you and around you–it’s really quite invigorating.”

“We were working off that sense of ‘Where am I in this picture?'” says Hardman. “‘How do I fit into this picture, and how can I relate to the larger picture?’ I’m always amazed that this hasn’t existed before. And I’m still trying to figure out why.”

For more information on the ECOlogical Calendar, go to www.ecologicalcalendar.info.

From the October 9-15, 2003 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Calabash Festival

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Photograph by R. V. Scheide

Gourdeous!: Rachel Gardner displays some of Food for Thought’s gourds, pre- and postartist tinkering.

Out of Their Gourds

From the garden springs art, in Food for Thought’s third annual Calabash Festival

By R. V. Scheide

Tacked above the gate leading into Food for Thought’s organic garden in Forestville, there’s a sign that pretty much sums up the organization’s entire philosophy: “Life begins the day you start a garden.”

Plant a seed around these parts, care and nourish it a little bit, and it’ll spring from the earth with exceptional vitality. A gourd, for instance, will grow to bizarre, enormous proportions. They hang pendulous from the arbor above Rachel Gardner’s head.

Gardner is a client services manager for Food for Thought, also known as the Sonoma County AIDS Food Bank, and she manages the group’s garden projects. The organic garden in Forestville is a collaboration with the Occidental Arts and Ecology Center, and Gardner clearly relishes showing off the fruits of their efforts.

“This one’s a hosho,” she says, fondling one of the bumpy, bulbous dark green gourds hanging from the lattice. “They’re also known as caveman clubs, or Klingons, because of their resemblance to the alien characters on Star Trek.”

Indeed, the specimen she’s showing looks decidedly Worfish. It’s easily the size of Gardner’s head, attached to a long, elegant neck. There are dozens of them, along with tomatoes, beans, squash, chard, and other vegetables and herbs, all of which are used to help feed Food for Thought’s 450 clients, who are not charged for the services.

Gardner touts the therapeutic benefits of the garden as much as its ability to provide food. There’s a small pond in one corner, where clients who come in to pick up their food (besides organic vegetables, donations provide everything from breakfast cereals to canned goods) can meditate and relax. No one here grows impatient waiting in line for government cheese. This isn’t welfare as we’ve known it–it’s welfare as it should be.

Of course, such services cost money, so three years ago, in an effort to raise more funding, Food for Thought asked local artists to create works of art using the gourds grown in the garden, then donate the works so the food bank could auction them off in an event dubbed Calabash. More than 60 Sonoma County and Bay Area artists have agreed to participate in the third annual Calabash on Oct. 5 in Forestville; at auction, the art pieces range in price from $20 to $2,000.

“I just took to the gourds immediately,” says Santa Rosa artist Loreen Barry. She got hooked during the first festival, and now you might say she’s out of her gourd for gourds. She’s completed 40 separate pieces since then, including the lutelike gourd gracing the program of this year’s event.

There’s more than one way to make gourd art. After drying her gourds, Barry cuts them open with a saw and hollows them out, lining the inside with crushed eggshell. Other artists, like Santa Rosa’s Monty Monty, whose entry this year consists of an eggplant-sized bulb suspended from a sickle plugged into a trophy base, prefers to use the dried gourds as is.

Sometimes, the sensual shapes of the gourds can be quite moving, as in Ellen Cheeks’ entry, Tonight I Will Lie with You but Tomorrow I Will Cry, which features two slender-necked gourds intertwined like mating swans.

Much like the seeds that yielded the gourds used in the show, Food for Thought sprang up some 15 years ago from the shared needs of local AIDS patients, their families, and friends, all of whom worked together to make Food for Thought what it is today. Gardner is optimistic that same spirit of cooperation will color this year’s Calabash.

“We’re hoping that people will come and be in the spirit of bidding things up,” she smiles.

‘Calabash: A Celebration of Gourds, Art, and the Garden’ takes place Sunday, Oct. 5, from 1pm to 5pm. In addition to the silent auction, free organic food made from the garden will be served. For more information, call Food for Thought Sonoma County AIDS Food Bank at 707.887.1647 or visit www.calabashartfest.org.

From the October 2-8, 2003 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Richard Thompson

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Grace and Power: Richard Thompson lets his songs get away from him.

Healing Power

Celtic troubadour Richard Thompson is no flash in the pan

By Greg Cahill

When Playboy magazine asked Richard Thompson a few years ago to contribute picks to a millennial list of best pop songs, the seminal folk rocker took the task to heart and selected the highlights of the last 10 centuries. The editors at Playboy weren’t amused, and the list never saw the light of day. Now Thompson has recorded the songs on his recently released album 1,000 Years of Popular Music, which spans a millennium of greatest hits from the oldest round in the English language to Britney Spears’ “Oops! I Did It Again.”

Richard Thompson, the cult king of Celtic folk rock covering the princess of pop? Quirky to be sure, but no one will ever accuse Thompson of being commercial.

Not that he hasn’t had his share of acclaim. When asked to name their favorite guitarist in a poll a while back, both Eric Clapton and Mark Knopfler singled out Thompson. And his songs have been the subject of two tribute albums featuring Bonnie Raitt, R.E.M., Elvis Costello, Los Lobos, and Linda Ronstadt, to name a few.

Most recently, bluegrass legend Del McCoury scored a hit with a cover of Thompson’s “1952 Vincent Black Lightning,” a version that became the International Bluegrass Music Association’s 2002 Song of the Year. On his new CD, It’s Just the Night, McCoury covers two more Thompson songs, “Dry My Tears and Move On” and “Two-Faced Love.”

“Songs sometimes take on a life that you weren’t expecting,” says Thompson of the spate of covers. “If someone else covers one of your songs, then you get a different interpretation of it in every sense, musically and lyrically, and the whole feel of it can be completely different. I suppose at that point it gets away with you–the song is out of your control. That can be a good thing or a bad thing.”

Actually, Thompson has three new albums: the aforementioned tongue-in-cheek 1,000 Years of Popular Music; More Guitar, a 1988 live recording that showcases his acrobatic fretwork; and The Old Kit Bag, a strong set of new material that reinforces the Los Angeles Times‘ proclamation that Thompson is “beyond dependable, producing albums of increasing grace, power, and intensity.”

True to Thompson’s penchant for penning songs that address life’s deeper reaches, The Old Kit Bag carries the subtitle, “Unguents, Fig Leaves, and Tourniquets for the Soul.”

That says it all.

“Or maybe it says too much,” he laughs.

Certainly, no one is going to accuse Thompson of dodging meaningful topics in his songwriting. The Old Kit Bag begins with “Gethsemane,” a heart-wrenching tale of disillusionment and betrayal, what Thompson describes as “a slightly codified account of a friend. This friend had a very idyllic childhood. As he grew up, life became disappointing, and nothing was quite as free as where he came from,” he explains. “He became frustrated and ill, and became an alcoholic. It’s very tragic. But I wanted to write about the pressure on boys as they leave behind freedom and innocence.”

“Outside of the Inside” finds Thompson, a Sufi, discussing the way faith blinded the former rulers of Afghanistan to all things modern. “Generally speaking, it’s about fundamentalism–Muslim, Christian, whatever–and they’re not people I’m fond of. I think they are bigots and stupid people, who use a little bit of power to lord over others.”

Some writers have expressed surprise that Thompson, a longtime Muslim, would criticize others of his faith. “Well, I don’t know if I can be considered ‘a devout Muslim’–that’s a comparative term,” he says. “I’d probably be at the liberal end of any religion, whichever one I chose. But I see the Taliban as medieval and ignorant, offering a very narrow interpretation of a religion.”

For Thompson, the songwriting process is “cathartic”–after all, a lot of folks experience the same disappointments but prefer to bitch and moan rather than put pencil to paper.

“Well, I do a bit of moaning myself,” he says with a slight laugh. “And I have a fairly typical male response to trouble, which is to go out with your mates and get drunk or engross yourself in sports. . . . But it is rewarding to express your own frustrations or someone else’s frustration,” he says.

Is it a form of salvation?

“Well,” he laughs, “that’s probably too strong a word. But music can save your life sometimes. It probably saved me from working in a bank or something. That’s a kind of salvation right there. Music is a great healer, a great diffuser of things like racism. It cuts through boundaries, and it’s a very positive force in the world.”

Does he think Britney Spears will ever cover one of his songs? “Who knows,” Thompson quips. “If she plays her cards right, she could have a song or two of mine.”

Richard Thompson performs a solo acoustic show Saturday, Oct. 4, at 9pm, at the Mystic Theater, 21 Petaluma Blvd. N., Petaluma. Danny Pierson opens the show. Tickets are $25. 707.765.2121.

From the October 2-8, 2003 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Mill Valley Film Festival

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Musa’s Beanstalk: In ‘Beat the Drum’–part of the MVFF’s focus on African films–Musa, played by Junior Singo, journeys to the city to buy a cow.

Continental Breakfast

The Mill Valley Film Festival imports a feast of remarkable films from out of Africa

Over the last 26 years, fans of the Mill Valley Film Festival have come to expect a vast cinematic salad bar, an eclectic menu of tasty films from which to choose. They want films from other corners of the earth, but they also want star power, new releases featuring major names.

This year, throughout the festival’s film-packed 11 days spanning Oct. 2 to Oct. 12, the MVFF is delivering the goods, with dozens of big names showing up onscreen in major films: Denzel Washington (Out of Time), Robert Downey Jr. and Mel Gibson (The Singing Detective), Gwyneth Paltrow (Sylvia), Daryl Hannah (Casa de los Babys), Harvey Keitel (Dreaming of Julia), Toni Collette (Japanese Story), and Patricia Clarkson (Pieces of April).

Attendees will also want to do a bit of movie-star mingling, so this year’s festival will include in-person appearances by Lili Taylor, Sam Elliot, Stanley Tucci, Katie Holmes, and Peter Coyote.

And of course, there will be plenty of foreign films, cinematic treats imported from a total of 34 countries. This time out, in an important “special focus” event–call it a festival within the festival–the MVFF has packed the dessert cart with films from the world’s second largest continent. Titled “Cinema Africa! A Continent of Film,” the series is a sampler of intriguing films from South Africa, Tunisia, Rwanda, Kenya, Senegal, Burkina Faso, Cameroon, and Benin.

“African films and African filmmakers have, over the years, become a staple part of our festival,” says MVFF programmer Zoe Elton. “This year we wanted to put specific focus on those films, so we’ve brought in a wide array of films from across the continent of Africa.”

Many of this year’s featured films were discovered by Elton while on a trip to Africa. “There’s nothing like the experience of watching an African film in Africa,” she says, “stepping out of the theater into 120 degree heat, seeing vultures on the roof of the hotel and women in the streets selling strawberries and little boys selling postcards, and the smell of food cooking all around. That’s the way to see an African film.”

While Elton and company will not attempt to replicate Africa’s heat and spicy aromas in downtown Mill Valley, there will be plenty of African spirit onhand as many of the filmmakers will be in attendance, and a number of special musical events (including Friday’s World Beat Music Night) are planned throughout the festival.

The films themselves feature a number of stunning standouts, including wrenching dramas like 100 Days, a harrowing re-creation of the Rwandan genocide, shown from the point of view of a pair of young lovers. Filmgoers will find a few delightful documentaries, such as South Africa’s time capsule treasure Sophiatown, a rich, musical-filled remembrance of a remarkable township that in the ’40s and ’50s was a thriving cultural hub filled with singers, poets, and gangsters.

The festival even has a couple of (relatively) lighthearted thrillers: Senegal’s colorful, painterly Madame Brouette, a musical of sorts, about a beautiful shantytown peddler who may or may not have killed her husband, and Tunisia’s unexpectedly sexy Bedwin Hacker, in which a resourceful young woman baffles the authorities with her revolutionary computer pranks.

Mill Valley is a noncompetitive festival, but there is one film in the African exhibition which stands an excellent chance of attracting some Academy Award attention. It is director David Hickson’s beautiful South African fable, Beat the Drum. A little cinematic miracle, the sumptuously photographed film pulls off an unlikely feat in telling a warmhearted, uplifting, unabashedly hopeful story with a potentially dreary subject: the South African AIDS epidemic.

Beat the Drum–which will have its world premiere at the festival when it screens Oct. 10 and Oct. 12–follows a young boy named Musa (Junior Singo, an engaging newcomer) whose mother has died from the mysterious illness that is devastating the land. When his grandmother’s cow is sacrificed, with no success, to save his stricken father, Musa sets out in classic fairy-tale fashion for the big city of Johannesburg to raise the money for a new cow.

Along the way, Musa meets a gruff but softhearted truck driver whose own actions might have brought the illness into his family, and a tough, young street girl, who befriends the newcomer but cannot convince him to take up purse-snatching. Instead, Musa sets out to earn the cow money by washing car windows in the streets. While the subject of AIDS runs right through the story, it is Musa’s remarkable personal journey that forms the film’s warm, emotional core.

“That was my first thought when I was given the script,” says David Hickson, contacted in South Africa at the end of a long day working on a television game show (he’s the director of the South African version of Weakest Link). “The whole issue of people suffering from AIDS is a very overworked issue in South Africa,” he says, “so our great challenge was to concentrate on the emotions of the characters, rather than to be at all preachy. We had to constantly avoid anything that felt as if it was too obvious, and rather turn things into an emotional experience.”

He succeeded. That said, as well-written and lyrically filmed as Beat the Drum is, the clear key to the film’s success is the performance of Junior Singo, whose smile alone is worth the price of admission.

“What was most important was that in this film, you’d end up following the journey of Musa,” explains Hickson. “The tragedy of AIDS in this culture is a very hard thing to express. We wanted to show that tragedy through the eyes of this remarkable little boy, lessening the seriousness of the story, without losing any of the emotion.

“Junior has the most beautiful face to film,” he continues, “and the most beautiful, natural way of expressing things. He was extremely dedicated. Whenever he’d show up on the set to do a difficult scene, he’d arrive having spent the night thinking about the emotions he was about to play. He was a real treat to work with. The cast and crew loved him.”

Hickson, who will be traveling to California for the festival, says he’s glad his film is premiering as part of a celebration of African films.

“More than anything else,” he says, “I believe that people watching African films will come to realize that Africa isn’t simply a tourist destination, a place where wild animals roam. The human issues, the stories being told in these films, are universal stories, about hope and endurance and human connections. I think the stories we are telling in Africa make an emotional connection that can be felt and understood by people worldwide.”

For the full roster of the films in the Mill Valley Film Festival, visit www.cafilm.org/nav0_3.html.

From the October 2-8, 2003 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Recall Election Recommendations

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Recall Election Recommendations

The Bohemian presents its analysis of the Oct. 7 special election

The Sept. 24 recall debate made one of the best cases for saying “No way” on the recall. Not that Governor Gray Davis is any great prize, but as Bill Clinton pointed out, if Davis is being recalled because of the economy, then people across the nation should be recalling all 49 other governors, not to mention Bush himself.

By our count, the Green Party’s Peter Camejo won the Sept. 24 candidate debate hands down. He rose above the bickering by sticking to the issues and making the point that it’s not the business climate that’s got people leaving California, but the high cost of housing, stupid. Camejo pointed out that the budget crisis is the result of the state spending more money than it was taking in, and that poor people are paying way more taxes than the rich.

In a perfect world in which Instant Runoff Voting (IRV–see www.instantrunoff.com or www.fairvote.org for details) already existed, we’d wholeheartedly endorse Camejo and give Cruz a lukewarm second place vote. Sadly, we’re still trapped in a two-party voting system, and consider a Schwarzenegger victory a very real possibility–one that, on Oct. 7, we hope you’ll help terminate.

Part 1: Should Gov. Gray Davis be recalled? No
Part 2: If the recall succeeds: Cruz Bustamante

Prop. 53: California 21st Century Infrastructure Investment Fund

The question is whether California should set aside up to 3 percent of the state budget for spending on infrastructure. We’re not against money for roads, water, or public buildings, but we are against this proposition. The official blurb describes this measure as increasing the amount of General Fund revenue committed to pay-as-you-go capital outlay projects for both state and local governments. What it doesn’t say is that by earmarking funds during an economic crisis, anything not guaranteed funding as a result of an initiative suffers–meaning that higher education and healthcare, which are already in dire straits, will be the big losers. Recommendation: No on Prop. 53

Prop. 54: Classification by Race, Ethnicity, Color, or National Origin

Should state and local government agencies be prohibited from collecting racial information for some purposes? That’s the question voters are posed, but while various restrictions apply, they don’t go far enough–which is why we recommend voting no on this initiative. UC regent Ward Connerly, who authored Prop. 54, may believe in his version of a colorblind society, but we think his measure works against that goal. And while doctors would be allowed to keep racial or ethnic data on their patients, we would not be allowed to use population data–such as the fact that Latinos are at higher risk from diabetes, white women are more prone to breast cancer, and African Americans are more likely to contract Hepatitis–to prevent diseases. If Prop. 54 passes, state and local governments would be restricted from “classifying” information on a person’s race, ethnicity, color, or national origin for the purposes of public education, public contracting, public employment, and other government operations. Recommendation: No on Prop. 54.

From the October 2-8, 2003 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

William T. Wiley

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Sucker Punch: William T. Wiley’s ‘Punch Before Postulation’ showcases the curmudgeonly character with a flurry of Wiley’s musings.

Humble Pie

William T. Wiley’s long and tortured involvement in having fun

By Gretchen Giles

Ivy pushes heedlessly in through a taped-together glass window at artist William T. Wiley’s Woodacre studio, curling greenly up toward the ceiling. It’s a tawny autumn morning in West Marin, and the garden wilds thrushing around the set of small cottages that Wiley shares with his partner, Mary Hull Webster, have yet to die back and blacken in this bay tree glen by a seasonal creek. He is, as he often is, hunting about for a book in the stacks piled on the floor, his lanky frame balancing in black clogs. He finds what he’s searching for, an antique tome illustrating the antic carousings of that favorite English character, Punch.

Featured in puppet shows with his sidekick Judy, Punch screams hatefully and repeatedly whacks, and is whacked by, the other puppets to the pleasure of children delighting in seeing adult characters acting terribly badly and being immediately punished for it. And he is the newest main character in Wiley’s personal and marvelously eccentric iconography of the world, joining Mr. UnNatural, the dunce cap, the infinity symbol, the Dutch historical plaque, and the flying hourglass as shorthand symbols flavoring his art.

“He arrived with these books,” Wiley says simply, tracing the pen-and-ink illustrations of Punch on the page with his finger, “and part of it was just the gorgeous drawings.”

With the addition of a small, neat dorsal fin, Punch dominates Wiley’s current work, having crept in just this last year. And his smartly naughty ways inform the “Before Math and After Math” one-man exhibit showing through Nov. 8 at the Sonoma Museum of Visual Art.

Back at the studio, tacked up on the wall, a large canvas in progress shows Punch berating a charwoman, though this time he is an incarnation of English painter Francis Bacon’s own take on Vincent van Gogh’s Painter on the Road to Tarascon. While that’s a sweet mouthful big enough for any art historian to chew, it of course has a typically Wiley punch, this time lower-case. Through the detailed text that is among the characterizing features of his work, the charwoman impatiently shoos Punch away: “Sir, you’d better get in your van and go!”

Wiley chuckles with deep delight as he reads the text aloud. Wordplay, comical illustration, and the most basic of materials conspire together in his hands and brain to complete his artwork. A progenitor of the Bay Area “Funk” movement, so-named by curator Peter Selz in his eponymous 1967 exhibit at UC Berkeley’s University Art Museum, Wiley may be an art star, but he doesn’t dwell with any hubris in that ether.

In fact, a special evening with the artist, in which he’ll provide a slide-show retrospective of his career before picking up a guitar and playing his original songs for those gathered, is scheduled at the SMOVA for Saturday, Oct. 4. This type of humble offering, in which the 66-year-old artist not only lays his soul out on the gallery walls but then plays and sings while the audience presumably chats and sips around him, is almost shocking for a man of Wiley’s international stature. But it’s also curiously and exactly in keeping with his humble nature. His materials are those that most of us have access to: chalk and graphite and tape and glue and wire and paint and cardboard boxes. A dried leaf. A Ritz cracker container.

“I want all of these materials to remain absolutely accessible so that there’s no excuse,” he says, pointing to a drawing on the studio wall. “That’s made with pencil. That’s all. A pencil. So much beauty and it’s made with graphite. Here’s a pencil and here’s a piece of paper, and it’s made by a human being. And when it gets more and more removed from that–the more nothing you make it out of, the more magical it is. If it cost $8 million, who cares? If you’ve got that much money, you can have anything fantastic, but with a piece of tape that you can’t get off your finger . . .” he trails off.

Perhaps most surprisingly for someone whose work rarely whispers of such standards as poppy fields or hillsides, Wiley stated in a 1997 interview with the Smithsonian that he felt himself to be a landscape painter.

“That’s a way to explain in a simple way what I think I’m doing,” he says now, “which is just looking out at the landscape, and it includes the middle and the inner and the outer. I echo what’s going on at the time, emotionally, socially, politically–so I see that as a kind of total landscape.”

In marking this triumvirate of vistas, Wiley noodles around with words, adding copious amounts of punny text to his pieces, so much so that the viewer is sometimes surprised to discover how well the man draws, given that one unconsciously strains almost more to read his work than to view it as an object. It’s as though he’s muttering under his breath as he paints. “Exactly,” he nods. “It’s just what I started out doing as a kid: listening to the radio and drawing, and drawing what I was hearing, and also drawing what was in front of me.

“The editor is always there, doing stuff,” he continues. “That’s another relationship or dialogue that’s going on at the same time. Making that selection, deciding, sometimes veering away from it because it’s too personal and I don’t want to disclose who it is or what it is. And the conflict that often happens in work I show is that people say, ‘I don’t have time to read all that stuff.’ I never even think about that as a problem that someone would manufacture out of the work–what if it’s [being shown] in Italy? So I think that the piece just ought to work or not, even if a visitor couldn’t make out my handwriting.”

Much of what the handwriting concerns itself with at the “Before Math and After Math” exhibit is the U.S. conflict in Iraq, to which Wiley is vehemently opposed, though he couches his sentiments in humor. Is he concerned with alienating those who might not agree with his political stances?

“To be antiwar is to be anti-American, that’s for sure,” he says with a resigned chuckle. “And in the art-art world, there’s not a lot of people covering these issues. So I get accused of being too maximal in an art world that’s heading towards minimal. There’s enough people minimalizing,” he laughs. “That’s being covered real well.

“Another quote I can’t keep out of the work–I think it’s attributed to Mae West, she said, ‘When you tell people the truth, if you don’t make them laugh, they’ll kill ya.’ So even for my own survival, the humor has to enter just to be here, to not become rigid–literally.”

Wiley uses the chalkboard motif as a “matrix” to hang his polemics upon, painting a chalkboard image that he then letters over. “As a child growing up, visually you’re looking at [a chalkboard] a lot and I was always fascinated by it,” he explains. “The space that was created and the images that are left–and occasionally they intersect, something left over from another class–would create a kind of concrete poetry.

Wiley has variously been described as practicing “dude ranch dada” or as the father of the conceptual movement, from which mantle he comically flails. But it is perhaps what he terms his “totally haphazard relationship” with Zen practice that most defines this artist.

In trying to describe his process, he hunts again in the stacks on the floor for a book by Nobel laureate Elias Canetti on art’s sharp and ruthless nature. Looking up from the text, he summarizes, “Art’s not interested in you or your destination. It continually disappears when you try to comprehend it, apprehend it, or sell it. Or you push it in one way and it goes somewhere else. So that’s what, as an artist, you eventually have this long and tortured involvement with. What’s the next piece?

“You’re never on top of it. Only for minutes. Just aahhh–and then you know that it’s not you that’s on top of it,” he says, handing the book to the visitor, “it’s only some space that you can engage.”

‘Conversation, Guitar, and a Microbrew with William T. Wiley’ commences with a slide show retrospective of the artist’s career on Saturday, Oct. 4, from 7pm to 9pm. Slide show only, $15; slide show and reception, $50. ‘Before Math and After Math’ continues through Nov. 8. Gallery hours are Wednesday-Saturday, 10am-4pm; Sunday, 1-4pm. Nonmember admission is $2. SMOVA, at the LBC, 50 Mark West Springs Road, Santa Rosa. 707.527.0297.

From the October 2-8, 2003 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Brannan’s Grill

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Photograph by Michael Amsler

Carefree Calistoga: Brannan’s Deco style sits well with a glass of champagne.

Craftsman-casual

Brannan’s Grill hits and misses, but still impresses

By Sara Bir

For years Calistoga was a dirt town (well, a mud town), an out-there host to spa-goers. But it has managed to parlay its mud-town status into happening nightspot status. On a recent swinging Saturday, well-heeled tourists ambled up and down Lincoln Avenue as young gangsta types cruised in their cars, blasting hip-hop. Some cover band’s butt-rock flirtation with the Rolling Stones blared out of a jam-packed bar, and local kids hung out in packs, leaning against light posts and claiming benches for their own.

Here’s an interesting Calistoga tidbit (Calistogans among you, please forgive the aside, with which you are doubtlessly familiar): Once upon a time, an ambitious renegade Mormon guy named Sam Brannan went to California just as gold was discovered in them thar hills. He sold shovels to gold-mining ruffians for 20 bucks a pop and made a bundle.

Sam Brannan was in this saloon in a small settlement in between what is now Middletown and St. Helena, and was all excited by the moneymaking prospects of hot springs. “We’ll make this the Calistoga of Sarafornia!” he said tipsily, meaning instead to say “We’ll make this the Saratoga of California!”

And that’s how Calistoga got its name. Or so they say. Which has absolutely nothing to do with Brannan’s Grill, except that it’s in Calistoga and cleverly cops Brannan’s surname. In 1998, restaurateurs Mark Young and Ron Goldin opened Brannan’s. Their other venues include Checkers of Calistoga and Santa Rosa, as well as the Flatiron Grill, just down the street from Brannan’s. They’ve clearly got a corner on the casual-upscale eatery market in Calistoga.

Brannan’s is an impressive space. The building itself dates back to 1906 (one of Calistoga’s oldest), and the elaborate iron supports crisscrossing the Craftsman-style peaked, open ceiling date back to the building’s construction. The entire dining area has a high-class lodge appeal, with dark, exposed wood and a huge stone fireplace. The kitchen is open, but sunken a few feet and recessed so that it’s visual white noise more than a distracting feature.

It was one of the hottest days in the valley when we made it up to Calistoga, and the heat still hung in the evening air. Brannan’s opens up its huge windows to the street, so you not only get good air circulation but plenty of chances to peek at passers-by.

The climate called for beer, although Amie du Jour ordered a mandarin cosmopolitan ($8.50), a tricky concoction that went down all fruity but packed a dangerous punch. What with the skyrocketing popularity of fruit- and vanilla-infused vodkas, the world of girly cocktails will never be the same.

The fried calamari ($9) were nice and crispy from a cornmeal breading and not tough or rubbery at all, and they went great with our beers. The lemon aioli could have benefited from more lemon and garlic, though; it tasted more like fancy mayonnaise than anything else.

The California endive salad ($9) arrived very daintily plated, a small bundle of Belgian endive leaves fanned out and topped with a liberal crumbling of Pt. Reyes blue cheese. The promised candied walnuts were few and far between, however, and the vinaigrette tasted flaccid and watery.

Mr. Bir Toujours scored with the thick-cut pork loin ($18). The steamed Manilla clams, slices of chorizo, and smoky paprika-kissed garbanzo bean ragout were all fine and playfully Spanish, but the massive slab of pork loin is what stood out. Moist and flavorful all the way through, it had wisely been brined prior to searing.

In lieu of the very tempting brandade-crusted halibut ($21), I downscaled and tried one of the smaller plates, the sweet corn risotto ($13). Unfortunately, its leaden texture was not aided by the cavalcade of overpowering parmesan shavings that littered its surface and tended to drown out any corn flavor. Hopefully I searched for corn, but located only random tough kernels. The wilted pea tendrils and pancetta were unobtrusive, though perhaps not called for; a good corn risotto can stand on its own.

A highlight was the roasted Sonoma chicken ($17). Sometimes, when dining out, ordering the roasted chicken will land you literally half a chicken, which is just way too much for anyone who’s not a Sumo wrestler. Here, it was just a breast with part of the wing, frenched, making for a much more refined presentation.

Thankfully, the accompanying butternut squash risotto was much looser in texture than the corn risotto, though it could have stood the inclusion of more butternut squash. The walnut pesto tinted everything a lovely green and lent a bright flavor to the whole plate.

The slow-roasted salmon ($20), flaky and moist, turned into a festival of richness with its very nicely done horseradish beurre blanc, silky and mild (the horseradish was thankfully an underlying flavor, not the dominant one). The creamy potato purée melded yieldingly with the beurre blanc, and the earthy roasted beets on the side tied everything together.

Right around the time our entrées were cleared, the restaurant thinned out, but a particularly inebriated fellow at a nearby table became entertainingly rowdy. He reached impulsively across the table to grab glasses; he bellowed good-naturedly at their server; he theatrically poured chocolate sauce all over their ice cream–but the best part was when he fell, red-faced, backwards off the banquette and onto to floor.

Emboldened by the good spirits of our neighbor, we tried the desserts ($8 each) and found out we shouldn’t have. The strawberry cream tart had a runny, yogurtlike consistency that was too soupy to be hanging out in a tart shell, though it was rich with a good flavor.

The chestnut and pear tartlet looked impressive, with its phyllo-dough starburst on top, but the dessert itself failed to make much of an impression. The pear ice cream, however, was good. The candied chestnut garnish was rubbery and tasted stale. It’s perhaps too early in the season to be using chestnuts.

Throughout the night, our service was courteous but consistently a wee bit tardy in between check-ins. Overall, however, Brannan’s was a pleasant dining experience. The combinations of flavors were creative and well-thought-out, but it seemed the kitchen was only half trying in their execution. The desserts in particular struck as us overpriced for what we got.

Interestingly, Young and Goldin’s family of Left Coast restaurants is expecting another arrival: Latitude, which will occupy the former Rohnert Park visitor center and is expected to open this November. With their other outposts keeping the house packed, it will be fun to see what they have in store with the new space.

Brannan’s Grill. 1347 Lincoln Ave., Calistoga. Open daily for lunch and dinner. 707.942.2233. www.brannansgrill.com.

From the October 2-8, 2003 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

‘The Rundown’

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Photograph by Miles Aronowitz

Jungle Love: Seann William Scott and the Rock take on the rebels in ‘The Rundown.’

Buddy Bashing

Dick Bright and Jeremy Kramer take on the Rock and the ‘American Pie’ guy

Writer David Templeton takes interesting people to interesting movies in his ongoing quest for the ultimate postfilm conversation. This is not a review; rather, it’s a freewheeling, tangential discussion of life, alternative ideas, and popular culture.

Judging from the way Dick Bright and Jeremy Kramer laughed, shouted, and clapped their way though The Rundown, the new action-comedy starring the Rock and American Pie‘s Seann William Scott, one might have assumed they loved the movie. Apparently, laughing, shouting, and clapping is just their typical reaction to mediocre movies, because afterwards, neither would admit to liking the darn thing.

“Uh . . . it was OK,” states Kramer, as we exit the theater.

“It was fun, I guess, but kind of disappointing,” shrugs Bright.

I thought it was a major blast, a spirited buddy movie about a professional gun-phobic bounty hunter (the Rock) and the sneaky college dropout (Scott) he’s sent to haul back from the Amazonian jungles, where the kid’s been playing Indiana Jones without the permission of the local despot (Christopher Walken). There’s plenty of outlandish action, a couple of rousing stunts, and a hilarious Walken caustically babbling stuff about Tooth Fairies and Oompa Loompas. What’s not to like?

Still, professional funny guy Jeremy Kramer–the curmudgeonly, L.A.-based actor and standup is clad this evening in jeans and a black T-shirt bearing the words “Fuck Disneyland”–felt the movie lost its initial promise way too soon. Meanwhile, Bright, Kramer’s longtime pal and sometime collaborator–they’re currently working on a stage musical version of Russ Myers’ Beyond the Valley of the Dolls–was disturbed by the music composed for a big shootout near the end.

A professional Wacky Maestro of the legendary San Francisco party band Dick Bright’s SRO, Bright has a highly developed musical sensitivity, as evidenced by Little Roger and the Goosebumps’ delicate Gilligan’s Island/Stairway to Heaven, the litigious Dr. Demento hit for which he provided the string arrangements.

“It was kind of weird how the music got real religious when the Rock finally resorted to shooting people,” notes Bright, sipping red wine in a cafe near the theater. “The music suddenly got real big, with these big synth chords–aaaaa AAAAA aaaaa–when he picked up the guns.”

“Right on,” rasps Kramer.

“But I have a another problem with the Rock in this movie,” Bright points out. I want to know why he was wearing a suit coat in the jungle.”

“That bothered you?” Kramer asks.

“It bothered me greatly,” says Bright.

“That didn’t bother me,” Kramer retorts. “The guy obviously thought he was going right back home. He thought the job would be easy-peasy-Japaneesy.”

I attempt to interject with a comment about buddy movies, but Bright cuts me off.

Is this a buddy movie?” he asks.

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid was a buddy movie, but not this,” agrees Kramer.

“Well,” I say in defense, “the definition of a buddy movie is two guys who start out on opposite sides, who are thrown together and end up liking and respecting each other. Like Charles Grodin and Robert DeNiro in that other bounty-hunter movie . . .”

Midnight Run? I wouldn’t call that a buddy movie,” Kramer barks.

“Well, let’s not get stuck on semantics,” Bright starts in.

“No, I will get stuck on semantics!” Kramer insists. “The Lethal Weapon movies, those were buddy movies. Those guys were a team. They were buddies. You can’t just throw any two people together into an adversarial position, and then, just because they hit some common ground along the way, you call it a buddy movie. It’s an affront to true buddy movies everywhere. What about you Dick, would you call it a buddy movie?”

“Uh, sure. Why not?” Bright says, taking a strong position.

“Hey!” Kramer shouts, changing the subject. “Remember that scene early on where the Rock and the American Pie guy started rolling down that hill, hitting rocks and trees and shit as they fell? I loved that! Part of me wanted that shit to keep going for the rest of the movie. Take 30 minutes to set up the characters, then have another 90 minutes of the two guys falling down the hill, smacking into stuff. Now, that’s a buddy movie!”

‘The Rundown’ is playing throughout the North Bay.

From the October 2-8, 2003 issue of the North Bay Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Chiyomi Longo

Film Friendly: Chiyomi Longo's work is often seen on film sets, though it merits a longer look.Seed of the MindChiyomi Longo's painting in full flowerBy Gretchen GilesFor a painter whose meditative images spring from the traditional Japanese tea ceremony and the elements of earth, water, and air; whose concerns are with the straight line and the circle; and whose...

Cannabis

Photograph by Rory McNamaraPain Pops: For now, Beckie Nikkel takes her medication in candy form--until the government sees fit to allow her legal methods.How to Spell Relief: CANNABIS Nature's oldest drug is now the world's newest pharmaceuticalBy Mari KaneBeckie Nikkel does not consider herself a "sufferer" of multiple sclerosis because she has learned to deal with the disease by...

Antenna Theater

The Sands of Time: Antenna's ECOlogical calendar looks nothing like the old Gregorian stalwarts--and shows time in an entirely different light.A Key to Slow TimeFrom the minds of Antenna Theater comes a whole new way of measuring our days in the universeBy Sara BirIf the Eiffel Tower were now representing the world's age, the skin of paint on the...

Calabash Festival

Photograph by R. V. ScheideGourdeous!: Rachel Gardner displays some of Food for Thought's gourds, pre- and postartist tinkering.Out of Their GourdsFrom the garden springs art, in Food for Thought's third annual Calabash FestivalBy R. V. ScheideTacked above the gate leading into Food for Thought's organic garden in Forestville, there's a sign that pretty much sums up the organization's entire...

Richard Thompson

Grace and Power: Richard Thompson lets his songs get away from him. Healing PowerCeltic troubadour Richard Thompson is no flash in the panBy Greg CahillWhen Playboy magazine asked Richard Thompson a few years ago to contribute picks to a millennial list of best pop songs, the seminal folk rocker took the task to heart and selected the highlights of...

Mill Valley Film Festival

Musa's Beanstalk: In 'Beat the Drum'--part of the MVFF's focus on African films--Musa, played by Junior Singo, journeys to the city to buy a cow.Continental BreakfastThe Mill Valley Film Festival imports a feast of remarkable films from out of Africa Over the last 26 years, fans of the Mill Valley Film Festival have come to expect a vast cinematic...

Recall Election Recommendations

Recall Election RecommendationsThe Bohemian presents its analysis of the Oct. 7 special electionThe Sept. 24 recall debate made one of the best cases for saying "No way" on the recall. Not that Governor Gray Davis is any great prize, but as Bill Clinton pointed out, if Davis is being recalled because of the economy, then people across the nation...

William T. Wiley

Sucker Punch: William T. Wiley's 'Punch Before Postulation' showcases the curmudgeonly character with a flurry of Wiley's musings.Humble PieWilliam T. Wiley's long and tortured involvement in having funBy Gretchen GilesIvy pushes heedlessly in through a taped-together glass window at artist William T. Wiley's Woodacre studio, curling greenly up toward the ceiling. It's a tawny autumn morning in West Marin,...

Brannan’s Grill

Photograph by Michael AmslerCarefree Calistoga: Brannan's Deco style sits well with a glass of champagne.Craftsman-casualBrannan's Grill hits and misses, but still impressesBy Sara BirFor years Calistoga was a dirt town (well, a mud town), an out-there host to spa-goers. But it has managed to parlay its mud-town status into happening nightspot status. On a recent swinging Saturday, well-heeled tourists...

‘The Rundown’

Photograph by Miles AronowitzJungle Love: Seann William Scott and the Rock take on the rebels in 'The Rundown.'Buddy BashingDick Bright and Jeremy Kramer take on the Rock and the 'American Pie' guy Writer David Templeton takes interesting people to interesting movies in his ongoing quest for the ultimate postfilm conversation. This is not a review; rather, it's a freewheeling,...
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