Lutecia

0

Spin doctors: Co-chef Scott Snyder and co-owner/chef Christophe Préyales of Lutecia in Sebastopol.

Twist & Shout

New eatery offers French cuisine with a Sonoma spin

By Paula Harris

SINCE VETERAN local restaurateur Michael Hirschberg sold Mistral and left that biz last month, changes reign at the Santa Rosa restaurant. As Mistral now attempts to find its footing amid fussier food and a new and seemingly less attentive staff, regular diners there will be hard pressed to find a familiar face among the hosts, servers, and bus people.

The reason? Some devoted Mistral patrons have migrated to Lutecia, a new Sebastopol-based restaurant featuring French food with a local twist.

Lutecia (its moniker reflects the ancient name for Paris) is owned by Barbara and Christophe Préyale, who have roots both in Paris and Sonoma County–hence the interesting blend in cuisine.

The Préyales have nabbed former Mistral chef Scott Snyder (who is now co-chef along with Christophe Préyale), and former Mistral dining room manager Laura Kudla (who now runs Lutecia’s dining room), various other ex-Mistral staff members.

The new restaurant is housed in the site that used to be the Sebastopol Grill. It’s a large house with two dining rooms and prominent windows overlooking an expansive grassy area surrounding the restaurant. Seated by the window on a summer evening at dusk gives the impression of dining in a more rural setting.

Since the place is newly opened and freshly painted, it lacks a bit of softness (a few more pieces of artwork or other wall decorations, and subtle window treatments would do wonders.) Still, the overall effect is pleasant; smart without being overly formal.

The menu changes daily, and it simply features two sections: Les Hors d’Oeuvres and Les Plats. The appetizers are heavy on specialty salads; there are four on the menu tonight. These include a salade maison ($4.25), a classic with mixed baby greens, cherry tomatoes, cucumber, celeriac, and mustard vinaigrette; and a salade de mer ($9.50) featuring scallops, shrimp, mussels, red peppers, and croutons over arugula and butter lettuce.

The salade Landaise ($9.50) is a brimming plateful of savory treats. It starts with a layer of fresh butter lettuce and is heaped with haricots verts, thin slivers of smoked duck breast, and warm confit of duck, crowned with a small triangle of luscious foie gras. Grab a hunk of crusty bread and this could be a meal in itself.

The salade de chèvre chaud ($8.57) is also very flavorful, featuring warm and tangy crottin goat cheese smeared onto toast and surrounded with tender baby spinach and endive.

Vegetarians can gorge royally on the satisfying pissaladière aux cèpes ($10.50), an intricate porcini mushroom tart with gold tomato coulis, truffle oil, and sautéed mixed vegetables on the side.

Following Kudla’s recommendation, I order the escobar forestière ($15.75). It’s a Hawaiian fish with the meaty texture of salmon and the clean taste of halibut. This dish is complex in flavor, melding the earthiness of the accompanying forest mushroom risotto and the brightness of a citrus-and-herb butter with the mellow fish. The combination works well, and the flavors are further heightened with a glass of 2000 Murphy Goode sauvignon blanc ($5.25).

Though the wine list is relatively small, the staff will work with you to select the best match (shades of Mistral’s popular food and wine pairing dinners here).

Desserts are prepared by co-owner Christophe Préyale, and though we only can manage one–it’s a champion. It’s a sublime crème brûlée au Grand Marnier ($4.50) that slides down the throat, leaving behind happiness and energizing traces of orange.

With its terrific service and high-quality food, Lutecia is a great addition to the Sebastopol downtown dining scene.

Lutecia Address: 1015 Gravenstein Hwy., Sebastopol; 707/829-7010 Hours: Dinner, 5:30 to 9 p.m., Monday-Friday; 5:30 to 9:30 p.m., Saturday-Sunday. Food: French with a Sonoma spin Service: Attentive and knowledgeable Ambiance: Relaxed Price: Moderate to expensive Wine list: Small but well-chosen selection Overall: 3 stars (out of 4)

From the July 5-11, 2001 issue of the Northern California Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Kenneth Cleaver

Consumer Correspondent

Idaho Department of Fish and Game 600 S. Walnut P.O. Box 25 Boise, ID 83707

Dear Idaho Department of Fish and Game,

Please excuse my ignorance, as I am uncertain as to your jurisdiction over the following matter. I am interested in a position as an Ursus horribilis, more commonly known as a grizzly bear. While I have never worked as a bear before, I nevertheless feel that my 26 years as a human being–including a weeklong stint as the Easter Bunny at a local mall–will only enhance relations between our embittered species. I love the outdoors, eating copious amounts of salmon and berries; and I hibernate nightly. I require only a modest salary and can start immediately. I should mention that I am not interested in a position as a black bear, as the habitual forays of black bears into the human realm reflect the inherent despotism of their race.

I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely, Kenneth H. Cleaver

Dear Ken,

In response to your letter, I have the following information. You are correct: the Idaho Fish and Game Department does not have any jurisdiction over grizzly bears. They are a federally listed species, so the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service manages them.

However, I find your wishes to work as a grizzly bear rather admirable, and perhaps someday there will be an opening. But one must remember that human beings routinely shoot them or destroy their habitat.

One could enjoy eating salmon and berries, but you should be aware that the entire run of Salmon in the Columbia basin is in trouble. Without the public getting involved, greed and a profit motive will allow the human species to cause these magnificent fish to go extinct in the next 20 years.

What can you do? Get educated on the salmon issue, and then become involved in saving them. Then if and when you get a job as a bear you will still have something to eat.

My secretary, Donna, said she would like to have a picture of you in your Easter Bunny outfit, so if you have a good one, could you please send her a copy?

Sincerely, Pat Cudmore

From the July 5-11, 2001 issue of the Northern California Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

North Coast Abalone

Shell Game

Fish and Game stock may threaten North Coast abalone

By Maria Brosnan Liebel

THE MULTIMILLION-dollar North Coast abalone industry is navigating some rough waters over a debate about a potentially deadly bacterium. For 13 months, the California Department of Fish and Game identified a Crescent City abalone farm as being the only source north of San Francisco of a bacterium known to cause Withering syndrome, a disease that has decimated the wild abalone stocks in Southern California. But it was only after Abalone International Inc. owner Chris Van Hook agreed to have his abalone stock destroyed did he and some Fish and Game Aquaculture Disease Advisory Committee members learn that the department itself, with marine biologists at Bodega Bay, may have unknowingly infected wild North Coast red abalone with the bacterium.

North Coast red abalone–which extend from the Marin and Sonoma coasts to the Oregon border–are believed to be some of the richest wild abalone beds in the world. Sport divers contribute millions of dollars annually to the economy through tourism.

The exact threat to the species is unknown. While Fish and Game officials say Withering syndrome itself has not been found north of San Francisco, a few wild animals have tested positive for the bacterium at Crescent City and at a Fish and Game-supported out-planting site at Van Damme State Park, near Fort Bragg.

The situation has sparked a bitter war of words within the North Coast abalone industry. Van Hook claims the department deliberately withheld the information so that it could point to his business as the cause if Withering disease became a problem. But Fish and Game officials insist there was no cover-up, and it is unlikely the department-sponsored out-plants were a source of the bacterium.

Now state and municipal officials are beginning to look into the matter. The Fort Bragg City Council is concerned enough about the threat to ask Assemblywoman Virginia Strom-Martin, D-Duncan Mills, for an independent investigation to determine the status of the disease.

Withering syndrome causes the foot of the abalone to shrink, making it unable to cling to rocks and forage for food. The mollusk eventually starves to death. It was discovered in the mid-1980s among black abalone in Southern California. Since then, black and white abalone populations in the region have declined an estimated 99 percent.

IN 1998, Carolyn Friedman, a Fish and Game pathologist at the UC Davis/Bodega Marine Laboratory, discovered that the rickettsia-like procaryote, or RLP, bacterium was the causative agent of Withering syndrome.

But three years earlier, in October 1995, some 50,000 cultured-abalone seeds were planted in six sites from Half Moon Bay to Fort Bragg, including Bodega Bay, as part of a University of California research project assisted by Fish and Game biologists. Some of the seed came from Bodega Farms. According to Fish and Game officials, seed from that facilty had previously tested positive for rickettsia, then thought to be a naturally occurring, benign bacterium.

Bodega Farms President Roy Gordon sits on the Disease Advisory Committee that recommended a ban on shipments to Van Hook’s farm in 1998 and, later, the destruction of his stock. But Van Hook and other committee members say they were never told about those out-plants during the hearings on what to do about Van Hook’s farm.

“Nobody mentioned that before recently,” says Dallas Weaver, vice chairman of the Fish and Game Disease Advisory Committee. “I do believe some of the decision making may have been different if we had more information earlier.”

The out-plants were part of a study to determine if wild stocks could be enhanced with farmed abalone. It was conducted by Laura Rogers-Bennett and Professor Emeritus John S. Pearse for the Institute of Marine Sciences at UC Santa Cruz.

The project was funded by abalone-fishing tax money managed by the department and overseen by Fish and Game senior biologist Kon Karpov.

The abalone seed was planted at Caspar Reserve, Van Damme, Salt Point, at two locations within the Bodega Marine Life Refuge at Bodega Head, and Half Moon Bay.

However, the scientists say the animals were never fully examined. It is unknown if any of the out-planted abalone were infected with rickettsia. But at the time, it was unknown that RLP caused Withering syndrome.

The bacterium was first found in wild North Coast abalone in August 1999, a year after Fish and Game implemented a shipment ban of rickettsia-positive abalone seed to farms.

Van Hook’s farm was the only business affected, since Bodega Farms was no longer raising the mollusk. He says he lost more than $300,000 because his farm could receive only younger seed that took longer to grow.

Under Van Hook’s urging, Fish and Game went to a privately funded out-planting site at Crescent City where five of 31 abalone tested positive for RLP. Van Hook said the seed from the out-plant came from Fish and Game’s Granite Canyon Marine Laboratory and other sources south of San Francisco.

However, Abalone International was still looked at as a source of the bacterium. On Sept. 21, 1999, the Disease Advisory Committee, at Van Hook’s request, recommended that his crops be destroyed. Van Hook says it would have cost the department $700,000 to reimburse him for the loss. Van Hook agreed to the destruction because “if we were the only point source, heck, we don’t want to be a part of it.”

After that meeting, Van Hook received a phone call from Fish and Game Senior Marine Biologist Fred Wendell. They were going to check another out-plant site at Van Damme. Six weeks later, Wendell e-mailed Van Hook about the other 1995 out-plants. Researchers then conducted two separate dives at Van Damme and found two abalone out of 134 were positive.

IN JANUARY 2000, the Disease Advisory Committee lifted the shipment ban to Van Hook’s farm and rescinded its recommendation to destroy his crops. Because RLP was found in Van Damme, and because of information researchers have learned about the disease, Wendell says he now believes, “It is more likely out-planted abalone than those from the Crescent City facility” that has infected the wild.

Van Hook accuses Friedman, Gordon, and others who knew about the out-plants of hiding the information. “Within 30 days of them acknowledging the Rogers-Bennett out-plants, the department was writing to me about lifting the ban,” Van Hook says. “That was how critical the information was.”

“I don’t think the disease committee would have recommended Chris’ stocks be destroyed, or that the ban have the immediacy that it did, had they known about the out-plant of the animals,” says Robert Hulbrock, Fish and Game aquaculture coordinator, who works as a liaison between the industry and the department.

Gordon and Friedman say they did tell the committee about the out-plants.

There was “certainly no cover-up,” Gordon says.

“Nobody is trying to hide anything,” Friedman adds.

Other Fish and Game officials agree information was not deliberately withheld. And they say the fact that the out-plantings were investigated only after Van Hook agreed to have his stocks destroyed was a coincidence.

Wendell and Friedman said lack of money prevented earlier testing of the out-planted areas, with each research dive costing approximately $650.

“The focus was on ongoing activities, and whether or not those ongoing activities were a representative risk to natural resources,” causing the department to look at Van Hook’s farm, Wendell said.

RLP, however, has not been found at other out-planting sites north of San Francisco, including Bodega Bay. Approximately 60 abalone from a third dive at Van Damme this January have also tested negative for the bacterium. Results from a fourth dive at Van Damme and seven other sites are not yet available.

Rogers-Bennett says the source of the Van Damme bacterium could have also been from other, undocumented out-plants, and not necessarily her project.

Wendell says that the low numbers of positive abalone after more than four years since the out-plants is encouraging, especially in Bodega Bay, as the bacterium seems to spread in warmer temperatures. “Just because they are infected doesn’t mean there will be mortality in Northern California,” he says.

The department will continue to monitor the out-planted areas annually or more often as funding allows, he adds.

But Pearse, of the Institute of Marine Sciences at UC Santa Cruz, says he was startled to learn that rickettsia was found in North Coast abalone. He notes that less than 1 percent of the out-planted abalone in the study survived, so the chances of it spreading is low. Still, he adds, the fact that approximately 1 percent of the Van Damme abalone tested positive is cause for concern. “If it’s anything like black abalone, it can sweep the population,” he says. “It may take some time.”

LAST YEAR, under Strom-Martin’s leadership, the state Assembly approved $500,000 for research to determine if there is a problem along the North Coast and to settle a claim filed by Van Hook. But the funding was rejected by the state Senate, says Mary Morgan, Strom-Martin’s senior consultant to the Joint Committee on Fisheries and Aquaculture.

On April 26, the Fort Bragg City Council, worried about the effect Withering Disease could have on the local economy, asked Strom-Martin for an independent study on the status of the disease on the North Coast. Mayor Jere Melo says the request is not a “head-hunting mission” about the out-plants themselves. But he is concerned about the potential effect of warm El Niño currents that could distress North Coast abalone and foster the disease. He also wants to know if there are any management decisions that can be applied to eliminate the threat.

“Or if we can’t, we just have to grit our teeth and say ‘bad move,’ ” Melo says.

“Given the abalone resource on the North Coast and given the impact on our economy from tourism, it is critically important” to conduct the research, says Morgan.

But with the state’s energy crisis rapidly eating up the budget surplus, she adds, funding is unlikely.

“I hope this event didn’t lead to permanent infection of these areas,” says Karpov, who notes that the best science practices were used at the time of the out-plantings.

“Right now, the best we can see, it’s been asymptomatic, no evidence of withering animals,” he concludes. Then he adds, “Keep our fingers crossed.”

From the July 5-11, 2001 issue of the Northern California Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

‘Moulin Rouge’

0

La Vie de Bohème

‘Moulin Rouge’ smothers avant-garde art in sea of pop clichés

By Gina Arnold

IN THE YEAR 1882, some avant-garde Parisian artists and musicians–among them Alfred Jarry and Erik Satie–formed a club called the Hydropaths, whose artistic goal was to shock the bourgeoisie. To that end, they did things like mount exhibitions of paintings that used bread and cheese as their medium, in order to make the point that nobody knows what good art is. They called their art the “Incoherent” school of painting.

The Hydropaths hung out at a club called the Chat Noir, in Montmartre. The posters, newsletters, and other detritus of their movement were recently on display at the Legion of Honor in San Francisco in an exhibit titled “Toulouse-Lautrec and the Paris Bohème.”

The day I went, the place was packed with art lovers viewing those giant posters of the dancer Jane Avril that one can now buy in any poster shop in the universe. It struck me as slightly sad the way art like that–beautiful but innately commercial–has gone from adorning the subways of Paris to being revered in museums, but I bought a poster anyway and hung it on my wall.

There’s something about that time that will always move me, anyway, because at heart I agree with the philosophy of the Hydropathic incoherents: never take art, or life, too seriously. And anyone who’s had anything to do with punk rock can relate to the reaction of critic Henri de Touche, who once said (approvingly), “It seems to me that in front of Michelangelo’s masterpiece Moses, the true artist of today should say, ‘I would like to do something else.’ ”

Perhaps that’s what filmmaker Baz Luhrmann feels when he sees a corny old Hollywood movie like Titanic, or even something better, like The Godfather. Luhrmann is responsible for the new movie about the Paris Bohème, Moulin Rouge, which features Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor as star-crossed lovers who hang out in Montmartre, circa 1900, and speak in the idiom of late-20th-century pop songs, the dumber the better.

Luhrmann has certainly made a movie that’s not like any movie you’ve seen before, but whether it’s a serious comment on film or a total put-on is as open to interpretation as a painting made of bread and cheese.

One nice way of interpreting his vision is to say that the film is a sendup of the utter banality of rock and pop. What else could it mean, when Luhrmann has composer Satie loudly applauding McGregor when he sings, “The hills are alive with the sound of music,” and calling it, “So modern! So revolutionary! So Bohemian!”

It could be a comment on the nature of art, and the way something that seems ahead of its time at one juncture gets wildly dated the next. Or it could just be a weird deconstructive text on incoherence.

According to the script of Moulin Rouge, the whole point of living “La Vie de Bohème” isn’t (as the Hydropaths would have it) to shake the complacency of the ruling classes but to uphold the ideals of “truth, beauty, and love”–unfortunately, via the medium of liquor, prostitution, and the exploitation of rich people. (Come to think of it, there’s a school of punk rock/stripper/junkie bohemia that believes the same thing today.)

IN THE MOVIE, McGregor, who plays a starving poet, repeats his ideals with the catch phrases “All you need is love; love is like oxygen; love is a many-splendored thing; love lifts us up where we belong.”

And those are just a fraction of the many inane pop choruses that are either sung or spoken throughout the film. Granted, I got a big kick from the opening shot of the sexy Moulin Rouge can-can dancers, who perform to a bizarre medley of La Belle’s “Lady Marmalade” and Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit.” And the finale, which uses T. Rex’s “Children of the Revolution,” is good for another laugh. But in between, Luhrmann seems to have deliberately picked every bad love song every written, from Paul McCartney’s “Silly Love Songs” to Elton John’s “Your Song” (which is the movie’s theme).

Moulin Rouge is a strange, strange movie, and not the strangest thing is figuring out who its intended audience is. I went to a matinee full of high schoolers who burst into giggles at every line. But I’m not sure they were laughing with the movie; they might easily have been laughing at it. (They certainly guffawed loudly all through the death scene.)

I have a friend, though, who says she enjoyed it because “most new musicals, like [Lars Von Trier’s] Dancer in the Dark or [Woody Allen’s] Everyone Says I Love You, have such bad music. At least I knew the tunes to these songs. They were relevant to me.”

And that is true. But I couldn’t get past the incongruity of people in Paris in 1900 singing songs from the year 2000. Speaking of history, the whole thing seemed like a degenerate view of the Paris Bohème that the Legion of Honor exhibit had celebrated. That era was rich in character and ideology. That Luhrmann relied on dopey cliché after dopey cliché is exceedingly lame.

Still, Moulin Rouge made me think about pop’s place in the modern lexicon–especially about the way that the human race invariably embraces dumb aphorisms about love like the ones in the movie. These, after all, are just modern translations of all the love myths that have polluted the minds of youth down through the millennia. Dante and Beatrice, Héloise and Abelard, Romeo and Juliet, Rose and Jack in Titanic, the kids in Dawson’s Creek. Talk about incoherent!

Moulin Rouge shows once and for all that all the silly love songs ever written are exactly the same underneath: trite, untruthful, and enormously, tremendously, idiotic and shallow. Where are the Hydropaths when you need them?

Whom do you trust?

From the June 28-July 4, 2001 issue of the Northern California Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Open Mic

0

Sousa-phobia

By Laurie Reaume

I WAS AMBUSHED TODAY by the strains of Sousa’s “Stars and Stripes Forever” on the radio. It burst from the stereo speakers, assaulting my ears and activating my subliminal replay command center. Performed on cello and strings only, the march was strange to hear without the trilling piccolo, crashing cymbals, and blaring brass. But it doesn’t matter what instruments play it. The trouble with that tune is it sticks in my head, like burs to a blanket.

All marches have an authoritarian tempo, demanding the listener stand at attention. Salute! Lift those knees higher to the bass drumbeat. But “Stars and Stripes” is particularly persistent. If I hear any snippet, the whole tune tromps through my head, leaving a trail of echoing notes. It’s a run-on music box.

The melody is all in a string, like a reel-to-reel tape. When the chorus is done, another verse jumps in and keeps advancing. Then that tenacious culprit chorus plays again and again in my head, a strangulating strand.

It’s especially pervasive around the Fourth of July. Annually, I’m pummeled by the relentless marchy melody. Just once is too often. Whatever you call it–an aversion, allergy, or outright phobia–I am under siege! I need refuge.

Is there an Institute for the Musically Plagued?

Some people are beleaguered by Christmas carols. From mid-October through year’s end, the music is inescapable. We’re held captive at department stores, on hold during a business call, or by a holiday display zipping through “We Wish You a Merry Christmas,” à la Alvin and the Chipmunks.

But that Sousa march can strike without warning any time of the year. The brass attacks, piccolos pounce, marching bands boom the blasted tune everywhere: in a movie’s patriotic parade scene; in ads shouting huge clearance “celebrations” on used cars; in nearly all circus acts. There is no off-season safety from its intruding fanfare.

And the militant insistency of “Stars and Stripes” has made it a favorite for parodies. I cringe when hearing, “Be kind to your web-footed friends” sung around the campfire or played on buzzing kazoos. I live in trepidation that the ice cream truck will switch from “Home on the Range” to you-know-what. I’d be tormented by its repeating amplified melody before the driver had circled one suburban block.

“Stars and Stripes Forever,” indeed.

Laurie Reaume teaches piano and resides in Santa Rosa. She writes as the muse or music moves her.

From the June 28-July 4, 2001 issue of the Northern California Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Nathan Jx

0

Universe of Walls

Do you see what Nathan Jx sees?

By Gretchen Giles

THE COOL, dim elegance of the Sonoma State University Library Art Gallery is hardly the place to conduct an argument. Yet there they were, a couple looking at photographs while hissing in genteel undertones.

“They look like paintings,” insisted One. “No they don’t,” corrected Two. “They look like photographs.”

“But they’re painterly,” pressed One. “No they’re not,” returned Two with an infuriating calm. “They’re photographs of painting.”

Two may have a point, but One will never admit to it. Perhaps the colorful images wrought by emerging artist Nathan Jx equal Three: Photographs that look like paintings but nonetheless are generally photographs of paint. Thick, gloppy, gorgeous, industrial paint. Just the way painters like paint. Paint for paint’s sake. Paint to pant for.

Showing through Aug. 20 inside SSU’s new Jean and Charles Schulz Information Center, “Turn the Corner: Recent Works of Nathan Jx” means to reveal the surprise encounter available with everyday things should one take the time to view them–actual seeing, the real stuff.

But Jx has hardly stumbled, shutter wildly clicking, upon his careful compositions of color and texture. While he’s certainly found his surfaces on warehouse walls, at San Francisco street corners, through pipe-snaked alleyways, and while traveling through down-at-the-heels Texas, his camera avidly seeks to order them in a way some might term “painterly”–and they’d be damned right about it, too.

Indeed, while Jx claims punk illustrator Raymond Pettibone, original icon Jasper Johns, and Irish playwright Samuel Beckett as artistic mentors, he may in fact be seated in class facing Dada photographer Brassaï and Catalan painter Antonio Tàpies. Brassaï wandered Paris shooting structural graffiti, espousing a “universe of the walls,” depicting what he termed a “poor art” that could be appropriated by anyone. Tàpies, intrigued by Brassaï’s images of thick, impasto-y paint, in turn sought to create the stubbled vibrancy of the wall on his canvases as a signifier of modern life, a subject that engrosses him yet.

In even unconsciously wedding these two, Jx ignites a sharp desire to touch, brush up against, lean and slump and slide on the smoothly rough surfaces he’s captured on film. “Tex Mess” is particularly lascivious this way, an all-patterned shot of a pebbled wall next to a tiled slice next to a bubbled slab of school-bus yellow next to a gray streak next to a bluey brown strip of who-knows-what. “Gun,” too, is well-chewy, showing a Brahms candy pastiche of cherry and brown-striped paint with a pistachio-colored pipe lying along an ordinary wall. Some idle hand or chance scrape has etched a little figure into the Brahms section, giving this small piece of some unknown building an accidental lyricism that Jx is alert enough to capture.

Unlike abstract paintings, which often hurl the taunt of “Untitled” from their label, photographs compel one to decipher images. “Town and Country” is wonderfully maddening in its refusal of knowledge. Could it be rust or blood that pocks that whale’s belly, that abandoned surfboard, that beat-up canoe?

Itch, desire, and argument are salved by the remainder of the exhibited works. They’re pretty, they’re decorative, they’d be as absolutely handsome as can be in a boardroom or dining room, remarked upon once and then, to Jx’s probable dismay, possibly not again seen.

‘Turn the Corner: Recent Works by Nathan Jx’ continues through Aug. 20 at the University Library Art Gallery, Jean and Charles Schulz Information Center, Sonoma State University, 1801 E. Cotati Ave., Rohnert Park. Hours are Monday-Friday, 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. Admission is free. 707/664-4200.

From the June 28-July 4, 2001 issue of the Northern California Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Spins

0

Stars and Strikes

A parade of new Americana CDs

By Greg Cahill

Lucinda Williams Essence (Lost Highway)

HER LAST ALBUM, Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, was a huge critical success. This much-anticipated follow-up takes a slight detour. Just as stark and plaintive as on its predecessor, the songs on Essence are even more somber in their post-Dylan good-love-gone-bad reflections. Simple, raw, passionate tales of longing that live up to the billing in the opening track “Lonely Girls” and its refrain “sweet, sad, songs.” On the last few tracks, Williams shows that she can still rock, though even then, as with “Get Right with God,” the songs have a redemptive quality.

Various Artists Avalon Blues: A Tribute to the Music of Mississippi John Hurt (Vanguard)

THE ROSTER on this homage to the late Mississippi blues singer–known for his precise fingerpicking and restrained vocals–reads like a Who’s Who of American Roots Music: Taj Mahal, Lucinda Williams, Dave Alvin (in a duet with Peter Case), Steve Earle (who puts the grit back into “Candy Man”), Ben Harper, Alvin Youngblood Hart, Chris Smither, Bruce Cockburn (OK, he’s Canadian), Gillian Welch, John Hiatt (with a heartfelt solo acoustic version of “Satisfied”), Geoff Muldaur, Bill Morrisey, Victoria Williams (who contributes a weird, cackling rendition of “Since I’ve Laid My Burden Down”)and even the chameleon Beck work their way through 15 tracks that are a fitting tribute to one of the most underappreciated performers of the ’60s folk-blues revival.

Various Artists Songcatcher (Vanguard)

DIRECTOR Maggie Greenwald’s captivating film about murder, incest, and musicology is one of the sleeper hits of the summer. The extraordinary soundtrack is a celebration of the film’s Appalachian subjects, featuring an all-star lineup of country, bluegrass, and alt-country women. Emmylou Harris, Julie Miller, Roseanne Cash, Iris Dement, Allison Moorer, Maria McKee, Gillian Welch, Deana Carter, and Hazel Dickens’ haunting collaboration with David Patrick Kelly and Bobby McMillon on the mesmerizing “Conversation with Death”–this is hillbilly heaven. A perfect companion for the O Brother, Where Art Thou? (Lost Highway) soundtrack.

Various Artists A Nod to Bob: An Artists’ Tribute to Bob Dylan on His Sixtieth Birthday (Red House)

BOB DYLAN is one of the most idiosyncratic singer/songwriters of our era. Over the past 40-plus years, his songs have been covered by everyone from Joan Baez and Dream Syndicate to Eric Clapton and Elvis Presley. He often puts so much vitriol or resignation into his emotionally raw recordings that cover versions can seem almost ludicrous. Perhaps that’s why one of the best tracks on this uneven collection is Suzy and Maggie Roche’s whimsical take on the obscure “Clothes Line Saga,” from the crudely recorded Basement Tapes. Elsewhere, you’re stuck with Cliff Eberhardt stripping “I Want You” of all the gut-wrenching pathos that Dylan infused in the song. Still, there are some fine tracks here, including performances by longtime Dylan pal Ramblin’ Jack Elliot (now a West Marin resident), Rosalie Sorrels, Guy Davis, and Spider John Koerner (with Dave Ray). Greg Brown’s boozy spin on “Pledging My Time” makes you suspect that Brown was bred for this project, which appears on his own Red House label.

Spin du Jour

No city dances to a funkier beat than New Orleans, and no band ever captured the joyous verve of the Crescent City better than the Meters. Kickback (Sundazed) is the lost Meters album that never was, an ebullient collection of choice rarities from the band’s mid-’70s Fire on the Bayou/Trick Bag period, including previously unissued nuggets (such as a cover of the Stones’ “Honky Tonk Woman”) and newly unearthed alternate versions. Available on CD or a glorious audiophile, 180-gram vinyl LP pressing.

From the June 28-July 4, 2001 issue of the Northern California Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Kenneth Cleaver

Consumer Correspondent

Gap Inc. One Harrison St. San Francisco, CA 94105

Dear Gap Inc.:

I understand that the Gap is named after the infamous “generation gap” that plagued our great nation in the turbulent ’60s. With the advent of baby gap and Gapkids it appears that the Gap Inc. is taking the proper steps to prevent future generational schisms.

As a young man in my 20s, it would be of tremendous psychological comfort to know that the Gap will not forget me, or my marketing demographic, when I slip into my golden years. That is why I propose Granny Gap! Don’t get me wrong, the store will not just be for those golden girls; Granny Gap’s brother store will be either Grand Olde Gap or Gappity Gramps! I haven’t yet decided, but when I do you’ll be the first to know.

One of the central problems associated with aging is the loss of our masculine/feminine edge. Our seniors have been drowning in a sea of asexual androgyny for years. Where is it written that old is unhip? Why must the fashion world forsake this generation to identity-plagued youth markets? Have your researchers investigated the fashion implications of the Viagra Revolution? I didn’t think so.

Since the Gap Inc. has been in the forefront of unambiguous gender guidelines and stratification, it should also be pioneering into the conservation of markets. Just as we as a culture are preserving our natural resources and feeling really bad about colonialism, so too should we salvage the senior citizen from the indignities of discount retail chains. For not only are broader markets more sustaining and profitable, but this revolutionary market crusade has the potential to truly bridge that famous gap. I would not recommend changing your name to The Bridge. Let’s work together on this. Long live Granny Gap.

Your friend, Kenneth Cleaver

Mr. Kenneth Cleaver 33 Upland Road South Bedford, NY 10506

Dear Mr. Cleaver:

Thank you for your letter. It’s good to hear that you’re already campaigning for your own enhanced senior citizenship. We do feel we’ve done a pretty good job outfitting customers of all ages and, of course, we’ll do our best to be responsive to changing tastes and trends in this continually competitive and challenging business. Your encouragement is appreciated and we hope you’ll continue to enjoy shopping with us for years to come.

Sincerely, Christie Allair, Corporate Communications

From the June 28-July 4, 2001 issue of the Northern California Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

‘A.I.: Artificial Intelligence’

Robot Oedipus

‘A.I.’ is Spielberg at his most conflicted

By

IF ANY OF THIS summer’s blockbusters deserves Freudian analysis, A.I.: Artificial Intelligence is it. Made as a kind of joint project between Steven Spielberg and the now deceased Stanley Kubrick, the film is as much Oedipus 2050 as a robot Pinocchio.

The film opens in an upper-class home of the near future. Aspects of Kubrick’s design stick out at odd angles in this flick. In these first moments, Kubrick would have brought out the ice in these scenes of IKEA über alles, of Scandinavian blonde wood everywhere. Spielberg just seems to think it’s swank.

All that depressing birch surrounds the sexless marriage of an overworked robot-company executive (Sam Robards) and a grieving mother named Monica (Francis O’Connor). Since her son is in deep freeze, awaiting the cure for a virus, she’s allowed to beta-test the latest generation “meca”–a boy cyborg named David (Haley Joel Osment) that has the ability to love and respond to love.

When Monica’s natural kid, Martin (Jake Thomas), is thawed out, the biological boy’s sibling rivalry poisons the relationship between robot and mother. Monica abandons David in the woods, and he heads off to find “The Blue Fairy” from Pinocchio, in hopes of becoming a real boy.

Shortly, David and his talking teddy bear–a grave toy voiced by Jack Angel–are caught by human hunters. Antique robots are rounded up for demolition derby-style public destruction by a slouch-hatted showman (Brendan Gleeson, A.I.‘s Stromboli). The burning “alive” of a sweet-faced nanny robot in this scene demonstrates that A.I. is absolutely not for young children. (So does an earlier scene where the angelic face of Haley Joel Osment melts right on camera.)

When David escapes this Roman orgy, he leaves with the fugitive sex-bot Gigolo Joe, played by Jude Law. Law is the picture’s much-needed wit and irony–otherwise, A.I. is as serious as church.

The cyborg lover is the film’s Lampwick, but he’s a courtly rogue. A.I.’s best moment has him seducing a sad girl (an unbilled Beverly D’Angelo, I believe), who still carries the bruises her human boyfriend gave her. Joe knows a little dance, a little Shakespeare; he’s programmed with an MP3 of Dick Powell singing “I Only Have Eyes for You.” While it’s not easy to upstage a phenomenal kid actor like Osment, Law does it.

Unfortunately he’s yo-yoed out of the picture after a too-short scene at Rouge City, the Pleasure Island/sex-resort. This town is only a pit stop before David is led off to his final destination–the drowned city of Manhattan, inundated by the melted ice caps.

The stickiness of the plot–and it would be even stickier if it weren’t for Osment–is amplified by John Williams’ music. (“Use this syrup before the expiration date of 2020,” a friend wisecracked.)

In patches, A.I. has more mood than Spielberg’s evinced in years. When he’s obsessively retelling the Disney fairy tales, when he’s compulsively memorializing the Holocaust, the director is passionate with horror. Here, the ending scenes are so awash with filial love that it’s impossible to weep, or even to cringe.

You can’t call it schmaltz; it’s too heartfelt. I feel as if I’ve underestimated the man’s agony. A.I. is Spielberg fingering the wounds of a childhood that will, I guess, never heal.

From the June 28-July 4, 2001 issue of the Northern California Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Contaminated Wells

Not well treated: Lorraine Dickey is one of dozens of Santa Rosa residents who say the county is grabbing the mineral and water rights.

Down the Drain

Santa Rosans boiling mad over loss of water rights

By Maria Brosnan Liebel

FOR 44 YEARS, Lorraine Dickey’s family relied on a well for clean drinking water and to irrigate her quarter acre of land on West College Avenue in Santa Rosa. Now she’s looking at spending hundreds of dollars monthly for city water because she learned late last year that her well was contaminated with tetrachloroethene, or PCE, from a dry-cleaning plant. “If I have to pay for city water for landscaping, I’ll have to go back to work,” says Dickey, 63, a retired office manager and one of dozens affected by the contamination.

Owing to a move that could have a far-reaching impact throughout the county, county officials say, Dickey and other area residents may lose their wells forever in exchange for the costs of receiving city water, even if the ground water can be cleaned and deemed safe again years from now and despite a filtration system.

State water quality officials are negotiating with the county as they warn against forcing residents to give up their water rights. Susan Warner, North Coast Regional Water Quality Control Board chief of cleanup and special investigations, said residents should be able to use the filtered water for irrigation. And she is concerned that neighbors will resist testing if they fear losing their wells permanently.

“It’s a chilling factor,” says Warner.

Twenty-eight homes of about 130 in the area of West College Avenue and Clover Drive have tested positive for PCE, which local health experts say is a possible carcinogen and has caused liver and kidney damage in animals at high dosages. The contamination is believed to be caused by dry-cleaning businesses that operated in the area over many years.

State regulators have determined 5 parts per billion of PCE is unsafe; wells in the area have tested as high as 576 ppb. Dickey’s is at 1.65 ppb.

The Santa Rosa City Council and the Sonoma County Board of Supervisors this month each committed $500,000 to install water mains so that the residents can connect to the public water system. However, Sonoma County Department of Health Services officials, citing current county policy, say wells testing above the maximum contamination level must be destroyed as a condition of connection. A recommendation to destroy the wells would be made for those showing contamination below 5 ppb, such as Dickey’s well.

Health Services Director Mark Kostielney claims the policy is necessary to prevent cross-contamination between private and public water supplies. He says double back-flow devices used to control the flow of contaminated well water can fail and pose a threat.

“It is, in fact, real that contamination can occur,” he says.

But Warner agrees with residents that cross-contamination is unlikely if the house plumbing is completely severed from the well and inspected annually. If any of the wells are determined to be actually spreading PCE, the water quality board has the authority to shut them down, she says.

TO THOSE living in the unincorporated island of west Santa Rosa, one of the poorest and least represented parts of the city, the wells symbolize their freedom and home ownership. Like the aquifers they draw from, water rights is an issue that “goes deeper than the surface,” says Clover Drive resident Jenny Shipp.

“Everybody has been living, loving, and trusting the water we’ve been drinking,” Shipp says. But everything changed last fall when they learned of the contamination. “Everybody was in a panic.”

As a result, residents are livid about how they are being treated by local officials. They say authorities knew about this contamination for years and didn’t tell them about the risks. Now, in addition to extra water costs, they are being expected to give up their rights without compensation before state water regulators conclude an investigation into the cause and cleanup options.

“We were here first,” says Dickey. “The city grew around us, and the city contaminated us.”

The Water Quality Control Board first detected PCE in wells north of West College Avenue in 1991, and then again in 1995. While the county health department and nearby residents were told of the contamination, those living south of the avenue were not notified because they were not believed to be at risk at the time, says Warner. However, public notices were published in local newspapers pursuant to Proposition 65, she adds.

Then in November 1999, a former gas station site south of West College tested positive for PCE at 37.3 ppb. Again, the health department was notified and a legal notice was published warning of the contamination and the need for further testing by state water quality experts.

But individual owners were not notified by county health officials, says Kostielney.

“You don’t make any kind of determination of notification of anybody until you determine the results [of lab work,]” he says.

A month later, in December 1999, state water quality officials went door to door to warn residents. Yet wells weren’t tested until August 2000, after funding was obtained. Filtration systems were installed on 14 wells. But they were considered a temporary fix until the city could provide water to the area.

Bob Harder, Santa Rosa deputy director of utilities, says there is money available to connect those residences having contaminated wells to the water system at an estimated cost ranging between $6,000 and $10,000 each. But those with clean wells must pay the connection costs.

THE NEIGHBORS SAY they shouldn’t have to pay the costs of obtaining safe water. State and federal legislators are seeking $2.5 million to assist with the connections, but any funding would go to reimburse the city and county first.

Dickey and her neighbors with contaminated wells have already lost their mineral rights, meaning they can never redrill. She is willing to take up the city’s offer and connect to the water system, without financial help, for domestic use rather than risk future condemnation. But she also wants to keep her filtered well water for irrigation for now.

“Once you lose it, you can’t get it back,” says Dickey.

Sharon Marchetti, a water technical specialist with St. Joseph Health System, says county officials are redefining the current policy for these residents. She says, and Warner confirms, that the county is allowing other contaminated wells to be used with filtration systems.

“No other county in the state is taking such extreme measures in terms of individual water rights,” says Marchetti.

Meanwhile, the state’s investigation continues. Water quality inspectors have identified the former Sonoma French Cleaners, at 946 West College Ave., as one source and are investigating two other businesses, Warner says. The city’s sewer system is also being inspected for possibly spreading the contamination.

And, as for legal recourse, residents aren’t likely to get their day in court–Claudette Gibbs, operator of Sonoma French Cleaners from 1984 to 1993, filed for bankruptcy last summer.

From the June 28-July 4, 2001 issue of the Northern California Bohemian.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Lutecia

Spin doctors: Co-chef Scott Snyder and co-owner/chef Christophe Préyales of Lutecia in Sebastopol. Twist & Shout New eatery offers French cuisine with a Sonoma spin By Paula Harris SINCE VETERAN local restaurateur Michael Hirschberg sold Mistral and left that biz last month, changes reign at the Santa Rosa...

Kenneth Cleaver

Consumer Correspondent Idaho Department of Fish and Game 600 S. Walnut P.O. Box 25 Boise, ID 83707 Dear Idaho Department of Fish and Game, Please excuse my ignorance, as I am uncertain as to your jurisdiction over the following matter. I am interested in a position as...

North Coast Abalone

Shell Game Fish and Game stock may threaten North Coast abalone By Maria Brosnan Liebel THE MULTIMILLION-dollar North Coast abalone industry is navigating some rough waters over a debate about a potentially deadly bacterium. For 13 months, the California Department of Fish and Game identified a Crescent City abalone farm as...

‘Moulin Rouge’

La Vie de Bohème 'Moulin Rouge' smothers avant-garde art in sea of pop clichés By Gina Arnold IN THE YEAR 1882, some avant-garde Parisian artists and musicians--among them Alfred Jarry and Erik Satie--formed a club called the Hydropaths, whose artistic goal was to shock the bourgeoisie. To that end, they did...

Open Mic

Sousa-phobia By Laurie Reaume I WAS AMBUSHED TODAY by the strains of Sousa's "Stars and Stripes Forever" on the radio. It burst from the stereo speakers, assaulting my ears and activating my subliminal replay command center. Performed on cello and strings only, the march was strange to hear without the trilling piccolo, crashing cymbals,...

Nathan Jx

Universe of Walls Do you see what Nathan Jx sees? By Gretchen Giles THE COOL, dim elegance of the Sonoma State University Library Art Gallery is hardly the place to conduct an argument. Yet there they were, a couple looking at photographs while hissing in genteel undertones. ...

Spins

Stars and Strikes A parade of new Americana CDs By Greg Cahill Lucinda Williams Essence (Lost Highway) HER LAST ALBUM, Car Wheels on a Gravel Road, was a huge critical success. This much-anticipated follow-up takes a slight detour. Just as stark and plaintive as on its predecessor, the...

Kenneth Cleaver

Consumer Correspondent Gap Inc. One Harrison St. San Francisco, CA 94105 Dear Gap Inc.: I understand that the Gap is named after the infamous "generation gap" that plagued our great nation in the turbulent '60s. With the advent of baby gap and Gapkids it appears...

‘A.I.: Artificial Intelligence’

Robot Oedipus 'A.I.' is Spielberg at his most conflicted By IF ANY OF THIS summer's blockbusters deserves Freudian analysis, A.I.: Artificial Intelligence is it. Made as a kind of joint project between Steven Spielberg and the now deceased Stanley Kubrick, the film is as much Oedipus 2050 as a robot Pinocchio....

Contaminated Wells

Not well treated: Lorraine Dickey is one of dozens of Santa Rosa residents who say the county is grabbing the mineral and water rights. Down the Drain Santa Rosans boiling mad over loss of water rights By Maria Brosnan Liebel FOR 44 YEARS, Lorraine Dickey's family...
11,084FansLike
4,606FollowersFollow
6,928FollowersFollow