Camera Art 2

0

Intrigue.

Foto Fest

Organizers of Camera Art 2 shoot for picture perfect

By Paula Harris

KATHLEEN McCallum paces through her art gallery and stops before one of her photographs. The image depicts two young boys at what appears to be a remote Mexican plaza. One kid, his tongue lolling in one corner of his mouth, smirks with mischievous innocence, caught somewhere between childhood and maturity. The other boy stares intently at the camera (or maybe at the person behind it) with brazen sexuality.

This type of raw intimacy comes across in much of McCallum’s work, which she often uses as an outlet for her own feelings. “To me emotion is everything,” she says, gesturing to the black-and-white print. “I embrace it.”

When she’s not squinting through her camera lens, zooming in on her subjects to reveal telling details, the 42-year-old McCallum–the organizer of the upcoming Camera Art 2 exhibit–is looking at the bigger picture. Specifically the bigger picture for fellow photographers in Sonoma County, who McCallum says have it tough.

Although it may seem every other local restaurant is plastering its dining room walls with photographic art, McCallum–who lives in Santa Rosa–contends that the lack of places to show work continues to be a major concern for Sonoma County photographers.

“I hear a lot of people talk about having to leave the area to show their work–that’s a hardship for a lot of us,” she says. “This area has a large amount of very talented photographers with real motivation to share their work, but there aren’t enough venues for those artists.”

Last year, McCallum decided to take action. To help local shutterbugs overcome this challenge, she organized Camera Art 1, a showcase for the diverse work of 50 established and emerging Sonoma County photographers. The two-day event was held in the upscale outdoor setting of Santa Rosa’s Montgomery Village Shopping Center.

Participants included nationally known Rolling Stone photographer Baron Wolman and Polaroid-transfer artist Kathleen T. Carr. The exhibit drew some 4,000 people–a mixture of artists, tourists, and holiday shoppers. Sales, according to McCallum, were brisk. “Some photographers did very well,” she says.

After the exhibit, Santa Rosa Junior College student Brian Gaberman was picked up by the Barry Singer Gallery, which landed him shows in New York City and Los Angeles. And local photographers Kay Damgaard and Tim Fleming will be displaying their work in next month’s ARTrails open-house show. “There are definitely more photographers in this year’s ARTrails than before,” observes McCallum.

McCallum hopes to repeat last year’s success with Camera Art 2, which takes place on Friday and Saturday, Sept. 22 and 23, in Santa Rosa. Live music will be introduced at this year’s event, which will once again feature the work of 50 photographers. Many of the artists from last year, including Wolman, Karen Enarson, and Tomas Hakanson, will return, and others (like Stella Monday, Jane Krensky, and Robert Janover) are signing on for the first time.

The exhibit will provide many examples of where the art form is heading. On display will be a variety of styles: photography on different surfaces, liquid emulsion works, manipulated surfaces, and hand-colored images. Also featured will be photography combined with computer art.

“I think we’re educating the community a bit more that there are no boundaries with photography,” says McCallum.

Last year’s exhibit allowed McCallum to poll the art community on its interest in forming a collective art gallery dedicated to showing photographs and sculptures. Interest level was apparently high enough for McCallum and a group of associates to open Silver Stone Gallery in Montgomery Village in February. Over those six months, artists have joined and fallen away, and the stylish space now has 13 members. In the future, McCallum hopes to open the upper level as workshops for art instruction.

BUT DOESN’T competition between all these photographers get heated? Not at all, according to McCallum. “Because of the group energy, artists inspire each other, and they motivate and challenge each other to reach their fullest potential,” she explains. “We share techniques and marketing strategies and basically fuel each other’s creative spirit.”

But McCallum doesn’t want to stop there. She hopes to give local photographers and other artists even more exposure by creating a Sonoma County Arts and Music Festival in the near future.

“With the incredible wealth in the area and the influx of tourists, everything is in place,” she says effusively. “The art scene is just like a river. It’s always flowing and taking on new directions.”

Camera Art 2 takes place on Friday and Saturday, Sept. 22 and 23, from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. in the Village Court Mall, Montgomery Village Shopping Center, Santa Rosa. Admission is free. 541-7117.

From the September 21-27, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Usual Suspects

0

Protesters disclose the bare facts

By Greg Cahill and Paula Harris

FAMILIAR cheesecake? Not so. At first glance, the posters resemble the provocative ads for products like Victoria’s Secret lingerie, Cosmopolitan magazine, or Obsession perfume–featuring beautiful, young, and very voluptuous models. But look closer (yes, go ahead do what you normally do) and check out their chests–gasp!–the models have mastectomy scars where breasts once were.

The three controversial posters are part of a public awareness campaign by the Breast Cancer Fund, the San Francisco-based nonprofit organization that asks, in a society obsessed with breasts, what’s being done about breast cancer?

Sonoma State University will display the posters on campus at the InterCultural Center Gallery at the student union throughout October, which is National Breast Cancer Awareness month.

It’s not possible to predict what the reaction will be, but the ads caused an uproar when they went up at bus stops around the Bay Area earlier this year. They were removed a short time later because of complaints to the transit companies from squeamish passers-by that the images were “too shocking for the public.”

“[The posters] caused controversy when they went up, but they are supposed to get the word out that breast cancer is a serious problem that shouldn’t be hidden. But it’s important to display the posters because this is something the public isn’t faced with and maybe doesn’t want to be faced with,” says Jen Denzell, an assistant at SSU’s Women’s Resource Center.

Scars have been superimposed onto the models, so that one has a double mastectomy and two have single mastectomies. “The models, advertising executive, and photographer donated their time; I donated images of my mastectomy scars,” says Andrea Ravinett Martin, founder and director of the Breast Cancer Fund.

“We created the ads to guard against complacency in a society that so readily commodifies breasts for business and entertainment purposes. . . . The ads force us to acknowledge that we’re being subjected to a deadly and disfiguring epidemic directed at our culture’s most profound symbol of sexuality and nurture,” she adds. “They also help us understand that a true appreciation of breasts requires us to act more responsibly in the way we treat women, their bodies, and the disease.”

Although the ads originally caused quite a stir, Denzell says more people complained after they were yanked. “It was very interesting,” she concludes.

Articles about the Breast Cancer Fund’s purpose in creating the ads and about the controversy they caused will be part of the display, which is free and open to the public.

Breast cancer is expected to kill at least 40,800 women this year, including 4,000 in California (the highest number of any state). Overall, it is expected that 182,800 new cases will be reported in 2000.

MEANWHILE, Sebastopol shoppers got quite a surprise on Saturday, Sept. 16, when a group of 20 women paraded topless down Main Street before holding a noontime rally at which free breast cancer exams were offered. The shirt-optional march, organized by BABES (Breast Action Brigade to Eliminate Sexism), was billed as the first annual Breast Fest..

The march was held without a permit (required for all street paraders–clothed, semi-clothed, or otherwise), though a spokeswoman for the Sebastopol Police Department reports that the event went off without a hitch.

During the past couple of years, Breast Fests have sprung up across the nation, chiefly as a means to raise awareness about breast cancer and related women’s health issues.

Jill Leslie, owner of Milk and Honey in Sebastopol, participated in the hourlong event, not only to raise awareness about women’s health issues but also to make a statement about the sexualization of women by American culture.

“Certainly breast cancer awareness was part of it, but it was more encompassing than that,” she says. “We also marched to protest the fact that in 23 states it is illegal to breast-feed in public and [marched] to make a statement about the objectification of women’s breasts.

“We should be able to walk down the street without harassment just for having this body part.”

Leslie couldn’t say just how much gawking was going on by spectators, but she felt that the protest helped educate folks.

“Our attitude was: These are our breasts, get over it,” she concludes.

From the September 21-27, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Glassy-Winged Sharpshooter

0

Environmentalists grow impatient over tactics to combat glassy-winged sharpshooter

By Tara Treasurefield

FROM 1993 until a few months ago, Maxina Ventura lived in Schellville in the Sonoma Valley, where pesticides are sprayed on vineyards by both ground and air. A mother of two small children, Ventura says, “Research I did at the agricultural department showed me that we were being covered with cancer-causing and hormone-disrupting chemicals, as well as heavy neurotoxins.

“Suddenly all the cancer deaths in the neighborhood made sense, and our thyroid, nervous system, and respiratory problems were no longer surprising.”

Schellville residents made phone calls, wrote letters, and met with the county Agricultural Commission and county Supervisor Mike Cale to express their concerns. But in the end, they decided that the only way to protect their families was to leave the county. “In my immediate neighborhood, around one vineyard, five households have been displaced by pesticides and others are considering leaving,” says Ventura. “Tractor spraying and aerial spraying are equally harmful. Several people moved to get away from the drift caused by tractor spraying.”

Ventura and her neighbors may prove to be the first wave of a mass exodus from California’s sprawling Wine Country. It appears that everyone who can is ready and willing to spend taxpayer money to fight Pierce’s disease, which can kill grape vines. The current strategy is primarily to use nerve poisons against the glassy-winged sharpshooter, one of the bugs that sometimes carries Pierce’s disease.

With activists throughout Sonoma County vowing to fight spraying through civil disobedience, that strategy will be part of a discussion at two public forums scheduled in the next two weeks in Sonoma County. The ante was raised this week after inspectors found an adult glassy winged sharpshooter–the first discovered in Sonoma County–at a Healdsburg nursury.

According to the California Department of Food and Agriculture, the wine industry has contributed $250,000 to this effort. In comparison, government officials have earmarked a whopping $40 million of taxpayer funds, and that’s just for starters.

Senate Bill 671, signed by Gov. Davis in May, calls for at least $15 million for sharpshooter/Pierce’s disease control every year until 2006. Sen. Barbara Boxer, D-Calif., proposed that Congress contribute another $3 million to the anti-sharpshooter war chest. Even more generous, Congress voted to match whatever California contributes. The U.S. Department of Agriculture has invested an additional $860,000.

“The sharpshooter is a threat, and we want to deal with it in the smallest area possible,” says Sonoma County Agricultural Commissioner John Westoby. “A lot of things are being looked at, including organics and bio-control agents, but carbaryl looks good right now.”

According to Westoby, the Agricultural Commission will spray carbaryl on the ground in residential areas, but won’t aerial spray.

“We can’t prevent growers from aerial spraying their crops,” he says. “If they do, we’ll be out there watching any applications they did.”

But it’s a big county, and even now the Agricultural Commission can’t witness every incident of pesticide drift.

THOUGH AERIAL spraying occurs now in Schellville and other areas, Nick Frey, executive director of the Sonoma County Grape Growers Association, says, “I think it’s very unlikely that growers will aerial spray to combat the sharpshooter. It’s not a very effective tool, and it’s not the method that anyone would recommend.”

He says that the association doesn’t support aerial spraying in residential areas, but growers might want to aerial spray if the sharpshooter appeared in an area that couldn’t be accessed very well.

While spraying is most likely in residential and agricultural areas, infested host plants in commercial areas could also be sprayed. The current practice is to spray any infested area, and regulations from CDFA define an infestation as “five or more adult insects within any five-day period and within a 300-yard radius, or the detection of multiple life stages.”

It’s a safe bet that some people will resist spraying. In that case, says Westoby, “We’d try to get permission. If we couldn’t get onto the property, we’d get an inspection warrant, and if we determined that it was necessary to treat, we’d get a court order to do an abatement [spraying].”

Westoby sympathizes with organic farmers, who could lose their certification if their crops are sprayed with a pesticide that’s not approved by California Certified Organic Farmers. “If they can come up with an organic material that would work, great,” he says. But he’s reluctant to extend the same courtesy to other county residents who object to pesticide spraying where they live.

“We’d have to check it through the Science Advisory Panel and through the CDFA. Maybe there wouldn’t be anything organic that would be effective,” he says.

Chris Malen, a member of the executive committee of the Napa County Sierra Club, is impatient with the emphasis on protecting vineyards. “Not all of us think wine is so important that we should be sprayed for it. The wine industry has engineered its own demise with monoculture. They need to correct their mistake without forcing poison on the rest of us,” she says.

“To be sprayed in our own homes is a fundamental violation of our constitutional rights. It’s morally wrong.”

Sondra Cooper, a physical therapist in Sonoma, agrees. “They need to come up with an alternative to spraying pesticides on my property. That’s not an appropriate answer to their problem. I refuse to allow them to come onto my property,” she says.

Georgia Kelly, director of Praxis Peace Institute in Sonoma, has another idea.

“Wine is a luxury. To put a luxury item ahead of the health of the people is unacceptable,” she says. “People need to realize that we can respond to forced spraying by boycotting California wine.”

A Pesticides Forum, sponsored by the Town Hall Coalition, will be held Thursday, Sept. 21, at 7 p.m., at the First Congregational Church, 252 W. Spain St., Sonoma. A public meeting on the glassy-winged sharpshooter will be conducted Thursday, Sept. 28, at 5:30 p.m., by the Sonoma County Board of Supervisors, 575 Administration Drive, Santa Rosa.

Tara Treasurefield is chair of the Town Hall Coalition Toxics Committee.

From the September 21-27, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

New Folk Releases

0

Photograph by Diana Davis

At the Source

Two new folk compilations plumb the depths for source material

By Greg Cahill

GRUNGE IS DEAD, but the acoustic backlash that trailed in its wake is still going strong. These days, acoustic music is sustained by a new generation of fans who are embracing roots rock, alt-country, folk, gospel, bluegrass, and country blues. Witness Moby’s use of vintage field-holler recordings last year on his acclaimed Play (V2), or Beck’s sampling of two tracks from ’60s folkie Mike Millius’ Desperado album on the 1996 breakthrough Odelay (DGC)–the working title for Beck’s song “Jack-Ass” from that album was “Millius.”

In recent weeks, two important collections of source material have hit the market: The Best of Broadside, 1962-1988 (Smithsonian/Folkways) is a five-CD set showcasing the cream of the ’60s folk revival, while Harry Smith’s Anthology of American Folk Music, Vol. IV (Revenant) is an astounding two-CD selection of vintage folk, bluegrass, gospel, blues, and Cajun recordings that helped feed the passions of those young folkies who first lit up the stages 40 years ago in the darkened coffeehouses of Greenwich Village and Cambridge.

The Broadside set, subtitled “Anthems of the American Underground from the Pages of Broadside magazine,” comes in an 8 1/2-by-11-inch ringed binder packaged in a hardbound portfolio. It is as much an homage to the adventurous publication–a prototype alternative newspaper, begun in 1962 in a cramped rent-controlled apartment in New York City in the aftermath of the 1950s persecution of the New Left–as it is a tribute to the music of the times. As Smithsonian/Folkways musicologist Anthony Seeger explains in the collection’s exhaustive liner notes, the magazine, comprised of stapled mimeographed pages and costing 35 cents, took its name from the Shakespearean-era term for the sheets of paper on which songwriters published their latest songs, “sold in the streets to eager buyers who would savor the boldness of a writer and the scandalousness of the material.”

In 1962 and over the ensuing years, there was plenty of scandalous material for songwriters to focus on: the civil rights abuses, the spread of nuclear weapons, government deception, and widespread poverty in a land of plenty.

Indeed, the magazine had a rich legacy and a suitably broad interpretation of protest music–Broadside in 1971 published the lyrics of Black Sabbath’s “War Pigs,” by Ozzy Osbourne’s seminal heavy-metal band.

The 89-song Broadside CD set is the story of the New Left and a half century of resistance and struggle that saw the emergence of the women’s movement, gay rights, labor battles, growing dissent over the Vietnam War, and a simmering discontent with suburban sprawl and the vapid values of middle-class life.

It’s also the history of America at a turning point in the second half of the 20th century, the soundtrack for “the unwashed” (to quote Ed Rush, one of the originators of the religious parody “Plastic Jesus”), those college kids, middle-class drifters, and hedonistic bohemians who frequented posh folk clubs and dark coffeehouses during the early to mid-’60s.

All the big names of the ’60s folk revival are included: Pete Seeger, Bob Dylan, Buffy Sainte Marie, Tom Paxton, Phil Ochs, Janis Ian, and Nina Simone. As are the more obscure acts: Sis Cunningham (of the topical Almanac Singers), Thom Parrott, Paul Kaplan, and Jeff Ampolsk, to name a few. Oh yeah, and Mike Millius.

Among the notable artifacts included in the collection are:

* Two rare recordings by Blind Boy Grunt (a.k.a. Bob Dylan): 1962’s “The Ballad of Donald White” and 1963’s “John Brown.”

* A 1962 recording of Dylan’s “Blowin’ in the Wind,” performed by the New World Singers.

* A recording of the civil disobedience anthem “Go Limp,” penned by Alex Comfort, better known for authoring the Joy of Sex book series.

* Songs by three singers–Malvina Reynolds, Frederick Douglas Kirkpatrick, and Buffy Sainte Marie–who all went on to make considerable contributions to the hit public television children’s series Sesame Street.

THE TWO-CD Harry Smith Anthology is an artifact in its own right. This “secret volume,” compiled nearly 50 years ago by idiosyncratic scholar Smith and forgotten at the time of his acclaimed 1952 multi-LP set for the original Folkways label (which served as a major source of material for the ’60s folk revivalists), was left out of the anthology’s highly publicized reissue three years ago.

This little gem is packaged in a hardbound jacket. It features an interview with Smith and essays by Greil Marcus, Ed Sanders of the Fugs, and John Fahey. It also includes tracks by the Monroe Brothers, the Carter Family, Robert Johnson, Bukka White, Lead Belly, Sleepy John Estes, and Memphis Minnie–all recorded between 1928 and 1940.

It is an essential set for any serious collector of Americana–and required listening if you just have a hankering for freewheeling hillbilly music.

As Rolling Stone noted at the time of the 1997 reissues, “It’s impossible to overstate the historic worth, sociocultural impact, and undiminished vitality of the music in [Harry Smith’s Anthology].”

That still stands true today.

From the September 21-27, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

‘Cecil B. Demented’

0

Roger Corman-collaborator Beverly Gray critiques ‘Cecil B. Demented’

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

“Well, it’s no masterpiece of modern cinema–but I had fun with it.” That pithy pronouncement by author Beverly Gray, in reference to Cecil B. Demented–the latest in-your-face, censor-baiting extravaganza from cinematic bad boy John Waters–is among the most elegant film critiques I’ve ever heard. It’s short and sweet, with a haiku-like simplicity that . . . hey, wait a minute.

“It’s no masterpiece of modern cinema, but I had fun with it.”

Hot damn, it is a haiku!

I suppose Gray’s knack for stylish brevity is to be expected. As a former development executive and script editor for Roger Corman–another infamous cinematic Bad Boy–Gray has surely soaked up a bit of Corman’s knack for simplicity and speed.

We’re talking about the guy who made Little Shop of Horrors in two days. The guy whose films rarely run over 80 minutes.

“One of Roger’s greatest skills is knowing how to make things swifter and tighter,” Gray agrees. “He can find the flab in any film.”

There’s no flab in Gray’s new book about her former boss, Roger Corman: An Unauthorized Biography of the Godfather of Indie Filmmaking (Renaissance, $23.95). As satisfying as eavesdropping on a roomful of glamorous strangers, the tightly constructed biography stitches Gray’s first-hand Corman experience with at least 80 interviews of stars and actors who rose up through the ranks of the Corman factory system. While hardly the kind of treacly homage that usually appears in books about Corman, Gray is affectionate and fair, praising her mentor’s creativity and courage while challenging his commitment to commerce over craft.

Speaking of which, let’s talk about commerce over craft.

In Cecil B. Demented , a band of filmmaking terrorists, led by Cecil (Stephen Dorff) attempt to bring down the artistically corrupt movie-making industry. Angry at the commercialization of the cinematic art form, the “Filmmakers from Hell,” as they call themselves, kidnap a shrill, aging, big-studio superstar actress (Melanie Griffith), and force her to star in their own bizarre, politically-charged art films. Eventually, she grows to like it. Working like commandos with cameras, Cecil and company prowl the streets (without permits, of course), staging their outrageous scenes as quickly and cheaply as possible.

Looks like fun.

“It certainly gave me a lots of Roger Corman memories,” remarks Gray, who lives near UCLA, where she teaches a popular course in down-and-dirty screenwriting. “When Cecil says, ‘The Hollywood system stole our sex and co-opted our violence,’ it really reminded me of Roger. He always told us that we didn’t have going for us the same things that MGM had going for it, or Fox, or Columbia. We were never going to have the big stars or the lavish budgets, so what our movies had to have was something a little edgier, a little smarter, a little bolder, a little more off-the-wall. Something the big studios wouldn’t dare do.”

It was toward the end of Gray’s tenure with Corman–during which she’d worked on films from Deathrace 2000 to Carnosaur–that the indie mogul began to witness a change taking place.

“The things that Roger had always scored points with, a little more violence, a little more sex, a little more outlandish appeal, the big studios were now beginning to do,” she says. “With much bigger budgets. It was kind of a struggle for Roger to watch that.”

It’s common knowledge that directors like Spielberg and Lucas changed the rules of modern filmmaking by showing studios what a blockbuster could really be. But Corman’s view of the change goes even deeper.

“Roger saw that what happened with Jaws and Star Wars was that the B-movie and the A-movie traded places,” Gray says. “Before the change, the studios gave their biggest budgets to the classy films, the drama and costume epics. The science fiction and action films were always made with the low budgets. Now, the Schwarzeneger movies cost 100 million dollars, and the serious dramas–if they’re made at all by the studios–are given smaller budgets.”

It’s enough to make little Cecil sick.

There’s a certain irony in the way that Corman, who more-or-less invented the independent film, is also an icon of financial prudence, a guy who’d much rather think of himself as a successful businessman than as an artist

“Roger is a total paradox,” Gray observes, “a man pulled between wanting to make good films and wanting to make money. Ultimately, the money-making side of Roger always wins out.”

Though Corman’s company, Concorde-New Horizon Pictures, is still releasing films–mainly straight-to-video fare patched together from outtakes of other films–Gray says production has almost stopped.

“I think he’s stopped enjoying movies,” Gray suggests. “One time he loved movies. He loved packing a screen with thrills and chills. Movies motivated his life and gave him a lot of fun. Now I think he feels movies more of a burden than a pleasure.”

Even so, Corman is proud of his standing as a radical force in Hollywood.

“I think he would identify with John Waters’ movie,” says Gray, “especially its criticism of the MPAA. I loved the chant they used: ‘Hey! Hey! MPAA! How many movies did you censor today?’ Roger would love the spirit of that, because Roger has always had the same suspicion–that the MPAA was out to get the little filmmaker.

“Of course,” she adds, “the Filmmakers from Hell were definitely not Roger’s kind of people. They’re a little too psychotic.”

And there’s one other thing Roger Corman wouldn’t have liked about Cecil B. Demented, which runs exactly 88 minutes.

“I’m certain,” says Beverly Gray, “that he’d think it was way too long.”

From the September 21-27, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

‘As Thousands Cheer’

0

As Thousands Cheer.

As 1,000s Jeer

Revival of Berlin’s musical is no crowd pleaser

By Daedalus Howell

UNLESS ONE is making Jackson Pollock knockoffs with a parakeet and a birdcage, newspapers just don’t make good source material for artists. Playwright Moss Hart and songwriter Irving Berlin, however, mined the headlines of their day for their revue As Thousands Cheer. The result is old news.

Presented as a co-production of the Marin Theatre Company and the Allegro Theatre Company, As Thousands Cheer (directed by Danny Scheie) has long been relegated to the musical tchotchke shop. Apparently a smash when it debuted in 1933 (one must note this was in the throes of the Depression, when watching cheese age was a cheap and welcomed diversion), the revue enjoyed 400 performances, then proved its ephemeral nature by disappearing until 1990. That’s when the manuscript was discovered entombed in the basement of a Hollywood film studio.

Its grave disturbed, As Thousands Cheer has unleashed something of a mummy’s curse, wreaking its revenge on unsuspecting theater companies by garnering nasty reviews with its discursive collection of dopey tunes and underdeveloped sketches.

Admittedly, there are several toe-tapping numbers, among them the charming ode to the gossip trade “Through a Keyhole,” which includes the inspired line “If you’d really like to know how she got into the show . . . ”

Other songs, however, particularly the mawkish and artificially sweet “Easter Parade” (which presaged the invention of NutraSweet by decades), only draw attention to the fact that Berlin was no Cole Porter. If he were to go up against the Gershwins with this show, their dog would win.

Berlin can’t shoulder all the blame for this gutless revue–Hart is an equal culprit. In his sketch “Franklin D. Roosevelt to Be Inaugurated Tomorrow,” outgoing first couple Herbert Hoover (Colin Thomson) and his wife Lou (Lesley Hamilton) telephone associates and rebuke them with Bronx cheers. Such gags serve to remind theatergoers what a wonderful playwriting team Hart and longtime collaborator George S. Kaufman were. Too bad Kaufman was nowhere near this show.

As for the production itself, if the company had intended the audience to exit whistling, it shouldn’t have passed out the stale saltines that constitute this show’s musical numbers. Though Berlin’s genius (evidenced in songs like “Puttin’ on the Ritz” and “Cheek to Cheek”) is not fully realized in As Thousands Cheer, the material suffers more from its listless interpretation by the cast than from its creator’s ear.

There are exceptions–most notably C. Kelly Wright’s robust rendition of “Supper Time,” an eerie and heart-wrenching ballad sung from the point of view of a young widow, underscored by a projected image of a man strung by his neck–accompanied by the headline “Unknown Negro Lynched by Frenzied Mob.”

Carleton Alexander consistently charms in a variety of roles, including that of a lovelorn chauffeur in Berlin’s piquant ode to nascent love, “How’s Chances.”

Hamilton, easily the production’s finest actress, portrays Mrs. Hoover; an acerbic Joan Crawford who panders to the press; a newsreel director who goads a hunger-striking Gandhi (Brian Yates Sharber) to accentuate his starvation with pantomime; and an Irish chambermaid who extracts lingerie from the crannies of Noel Coward’s hotel room.

This show may have Hart but it has no soul. As Thousands Cheer is a time capsule and should have remained buried.

‘As Thousands Cheer’ plays through Oct. 1, Tuesdays-Thursdays at 7:30 p.m. and Fridays-Saturdays at 8 p.m. at the Marin Theatre Company, 397 Miller Ave., Mill Valley. Tickets are $24-$40. For details, call 415/388-5200.

From the September 21-27, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Fashion Junkies

0

Fashion junkies abound in mainstream America

By Laura Compton

MY FRIEND Jeff used to be the most devoted thrifter I knew. An accountant by day and an artist the rest of the time, he visited Salvation Army stores sometimes twice a day, hit garage sales and flea markets every weekend, and created wallets and art out of construction signs and other unlikely elements. Recently, however, his personal style has evolved from vintage gabardine shirts, white T-shirts, and paint-splattered khakis to baggy designer jeans and flamboyant Nikes.

IN SHORT, he’s gone from a thrift scorer to a fashion junkie. Fashion junkies (or victims, if you prefer) used to be slaves to European couture dreams–the fancies of designers inspired by art, history, certain French actresses, and perhaps a period epic such as Amadeus. The media still propagate this version, with its coverage of the seasonal runway shows, designer and supermodel cults of personality, and, of course, the endless litany of what’s in, what’s out, and what’s back.

That’s high fashion. But these days, the true fashion Zeitgeist is firmly entrenched in the states. The unique styles of some of America’s most disenfranchised, marginalized groups are being systematically raided and appropriated. Add in the forces of pop culture, music, and good, old-fashioned capitalism and the result is a syncretic “low” fashion that increasingly blurs the lines of its origins. Smart designers tweak and steal street fashions, then send them back out as hip new products, all while charging outrageously high prices.

Look no further than Macy’s display windows, Foot Locker, or Pavilions boutiques, and you’ll see items that look eerily familiar–but are suddenly way out of your price range.

“It’s now about chase and flight–designers and retailers and the mass consumer giving chase to the elusive prey of street cool,” Malcolm Gladwell wrote in The New Yorker in 1997. The article, which introduced the term “coolhunt” into the popular lexicon, explained how athletic-shoe companies such as Reebok and Converse run prototypes of new products by urban youth in “happening” cities like New York, Detroit, Los Angeles, Chicago, and Philadelphia.

The reasoning goes like this: Cool kids want the real shit and often create their own trends. They instinctively know what’s hot, know what they and their friends will buy, and don’t take kindly to lame imitations. Models, rap and hip-hop musicians, and sports figures might popularize the styles to the masses via MTV and style magazines such as Details and Grand Royal, but it’s a symbiotic relationship that originates in the street.

Designers often revamp or scrap styles based on initial street reaction. Older trends, such as the Converse One-Star basketball shoes and Hush Puppies, are now back in force on retail shelves because they were selling so well in thrift and secondhand stores.

How big is this market?

Unbelievably, basketball shoes alone are a $7.5 billion market worldwide.

“It’s ironic that the same demographic group demonized by right-wing politicians, harassed by the police, and ignored by employers is the most sought-after by many of America’s richest entertainment and apparel companies, who seek the blessings of their authenticity, then sell it back to them for an inflated price,” comments an article in this month’s Spin explaining the phenomenon.

BUT IT GOES beyond irony. The same baggy clothes and athletic wear that can land ethnic teens on “gang wannabe” lists are now marketed to suburban teenagers who want the tough image without the reality. Hip-hop style has thoroughly permeated youth fashion and become so commercialized during the past several years that much of it has been rendered innocuous, but it’s a process of constant evolution. As creative modes of dressing continue to come up through the streets, they will inevitably continue to be redone with designer names and exorbitant prices.

Hip-hop culture is just one example. Culture vultures know no boundaries; other groups whose distinct elements have become fashion fodder include skateboarders and snowboarders (baggy pants, Vans), Latinos (baggy shorts, tank tops), punks (studded belts and jewelry, Converse, men’s pants), riot grrrls (Mary Janes, barrettes). The act of appropriation not only divests these symbols of their power; it also blurs their origins until they are no longer distinguishable.

One term you’ll never see mentioned in fashion ads or the media is class. Instead, its surrogate code words are campy, kitschy, hip, retro. Trailer parks, alleys, and bedraggled urban areas are the backdrops for both ads and editorial spreads. Take the short-lived, much-ballyhooed “heroin chic” fashion stance President Clinton and others were so up in arms about. Ads and fashion layouts from such designers as Diesel and Calvin Klein, with their malnourished, drugged-looking models in hooker getups, were glamorizing poverty, not heroin.

In today’s political climate, with its rapidly unraveling welfare system and safety net, low-income women are simultaneously blamed for society’s ills and held up as fashion plates.

Magazines such as Spin and Rolling Stone, with their double-page color ads and au courant fashion spreads, function as guidebooks of co-optation as designers desperately try to sell cool and rebellion.

Often the co-optation goes beyond the styles to the sources. Declassé styles of yesterday that we once held up as examples of bad taste or age–polyester, leisure suits, loud prints, etc.–have now been recycled and revived for a several-decades-removed generation. Thrift stores, a perennial font of older styles, have been pillaged. It’s bad enough that retailers are remaking old styles and charging an arm and a leg for them, but it’s truly galling to find Thrift Town picked over and polyester shirts selling for $20 (vs. $2 or $3) at Urban Outfitters.

A fashion spread in Spin once advised readers on how to trade in ’70s designer fashions for ’80s variations. “Feeling imprisoned by that suit and tie?” it asks. “Longing for the grunged-out Courtney?”

Ironically, in recalling the time when Courtney Love’s clothing choices expressed personal sentiments more than designer ones, Spin seemingly contradicts Harper’s Bazaar, which once put Love on the cover because her “severe good looks and sensational background (the drugs, the booze, the rawness) suddenly conform with fashion’s hard-edged glamour.”

However you choose to frame it, it’s still about selling a look, whether it’s kinder-whore or Klein.

ISN’T A FASHION-BLIND society, where our differences are obscured and thus become unimportant, a worthy goal? Maybe in theory. But fashion is first and foremost a form of personal expression. In our visually oriented age, it sends an immediate first impression. Throughout history, disenfranchised and minority groups such as beatniks, hippies, punks, gangs, and gays have been able to identify each other and bond based on certain clothing and accessory choices.

Fashion statements are often antifashion statements. Seattle rockers didn’t wear flannel shirts and ripped-up Levi’s because they were fashionable; they wore them because they were practical and cheap. Los Angeles street kids wear Hanes tank tops because they’re sexy and inexpensive.

Whenever a distinctive look, attitude, culture, or type of music becomes marketed on a mass level, it loses its impact. By its very nature, mass marketing mutes complexities and contradictions. When we appropriate the styles of classes or cultures other than our own, respect and understanding are rarely part of the exchange. We can dress up like part of a rebellious group without taking any of the risks or truly understanding its mindset. Short of ignoring the trends, there’s no easy way around this.

But being conscious of the ways in which the fashion industry sells marginalized cultures’ styles is a start.

Recognizing who’s profiting from a lifestyle or sweatshop labor is essential. Fashion is about individual decisions. You can vote for it or veto it–with your pocketbook. The choices are up to you.

From the September 21-27, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Mistral

0

Mistral presents a local farm-food extravaganza

By Paula Harris

SET THE TABLE, set the stage. That’s the motto master showman Michael Hirschberg, energetic proprietor of Santa Rosa’s Mistral Restaurant and Wine Bar, and his equally star-struck staff seem to have taken on with unabashed theatrical glee.

“Dinner here is like a performance, it’s akin to theater,” says the boyish and bustling Hirschberg, who routinely plans ambitious themed dinner events for the popular restaurant as if he’s a Broadway artistic director. “The audience–uh, the customers–walk in and ready or not, the show is on the road. The players must remember their lines and hit their marks.”

Mistral puts on about 10 themed dinners each season. Sometimes the meal features a specific wine varietal, or is geared around a certain winery, or maybe transports patrons far away from the restaurant’s functional business-park location to immerse their senses in the exotic cuisine of some distant land.

And the culinary show seems to be playing to raves.

For example, a Sept. 17 “Sonoma County Farms Dinner,” a six-course extravaganza showcasing local farm products paired with five Sonoma County wines at $65 per person, appeared to be almost a sellout. I even overheard a woman at the next table tell her friend, “We should stand up and cheer, ‘Michael, Michael!’ ”

Indeed, this particular dinner, a generous meal with full glasses of topnotch vino, rendered at a pleasurable relaxed pace, was a standout. The seemingly never-ending feast featured Bodega Bay chili pepper rockfish with Asti olive oil and preserved lemons, with 1999 Geyser Peak sauvignon blanc; Imwalle white corn risotto with Hog Island kumamoto oysters, with 1998 Matanzas Creek viognier; heirloom tomatoes with house-made mozzarella; grilled CK lamb chop and cannellini beans and greens, with 1997 Hamel syrah; baked Redwood Hill crottin (aged goat cheese) with arugula and roast plums, with 1998 De Loach “Barbieri” zinfandel; and Timbercrest fig ice-cream “Newton,” with DeLorimier late-harvest semillon.

Some pairings have been truly inspired, such as corn and oyster rice with floral honey-scented viognier; perfectly balanced intensity of grilled lamb and syrah; roasted plums with jammy zinfandel; and fig and caramel flavors of dessert superbly amplified by late-harvest semillon.

Mistral chef Scott Snyder and Hirschberg obviously take great pains to continually come up with imaginative new pairings in order to keep the Wine Country’s jaded diners alert.

“Sometimes the dish comes first and we search for the best wine to pair with it, and sometimes the wine is first and we have to create a dish to go with that,” explains Hirschberg, who also teaches a class on food and wine pairing at Santa Rosa Junior College. “The pairing is our great passion.”

DINERS CAN TRACE the roots of Hirschberg’s food-and-wine pairing dinners to 1985 and his former restaurant, the upscale Matisse in downtown Santa Rosa. “In the old days it was more of a showpiece winetasting event–a six-course meal with wine. Matisse only had 12 tables and it got a bit highbrow, but it’s now evolved into more of a fun thing.”

At Mistral, where diners can have an eating experience that’s as elegant or as casual as they want, the dinner events are diverse. One set is a seasonal multicourse meal dedicated to a specific wine varietal; for example, a meal featuring chardonnays during the heat of August, another with cabernet sauvignon and comfort food when the night air grows more crisp.

Another theme features a specific winery. But forget about having to endure some stuffy winemaker giving a speech on how to toast barrels or harvest grapes when all you really want to do is gorge and guzzle. “People are out for a nice meal, and they want to relax, and [winemaker speeches and such] are an intrusion,” says Hirschberg. “We don’t want to be teachy-preachy and force information down people’s throats.”

Viticulture’s educational component is covered during the restaurant’s wine seminar series, when the dining room gets transformed into a classroom of sorts, a panel of experts discusses all things vine and wine, and customers participate in a blind tasting and optional buffet. “In these, the focus remains on wine education,” explains Hirschberg. “But in the dinners, the focus is on hedonism!”

WZHEN THE STYLISH, contemporary Mistral opened five years ago (as a new incarnation of Hirschberg’s Ristorante Siena, which operated in the same location), the Mediterranean-inspired menu spanned France, Italy, Spain, Greece, and Morocco, but was not entirely successful.

“Not everyone was as familiar with those cuisines as they could have been,” says Hirschberg. So now the regular menu focuses mostly on southern French cuisine. Not that that’s restricted Hirschberg and Snyder. They get their kicks trying out exotic, authentic recipes for the periodic and very festive ethnic-themed dinners.

A recent “Supper on the Sahara” dinner, for example, featured Algerian brik stuffed with spiced lamb; Moroccan seabass with charmoula; Tunisian salads; chicken tangine with lemon and olives served with couscous; and almond, hazelnut, and pistachio creams.

On Oct. 15 and 16, the restaurant will feature a six-course Harvest Fair gold-medal-winner dinner, spotlighting eight of the triumphant wines. “I have to get hold of these wines really soon for the dinner,” muses Hirschberg, who is one of the wine judges this year. Nice job that, being a wine judge. “It’s not so easy,” he remarks. “You have to spit out every drop as if you were sampling rat poison, otherwise you’ll get blasted.”

So why does Hirschberg stage these regular ambitious dining adventures? To keep customers on a flavor frenzy, tantalizing them with ever more exciting dinners, just like those crazy restaurateurs in the movie Big Night (another of Hirschberg’s special dinner themes, by the way)?

Nope, it’s because Hirschberg gets hellishly bored. Bored?

“Yes, I get bored easily,” he admits. “I have a very low attention span. I always want to do something new all the time. I just can’t imagine serving caesar salad and grilled fish every day of the week.”

But after five years at Mistral isn’t he fed up with it yet?

“Oh no,” the affable Hirschberg replies with a laugh. “Hey, that’s why I keep doing all these special dinners.”

Curtain up.

Mistral serves lunch weekdays, dinner daily, at 1229 N. Dutton Ave., Santa Rosa. To get information on upcoming events or to make reservations, call 578-4511.

From the September 21-27, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Burning Spear

0

Natural mystic: Burning Spear (a.k.a. Winston Rodney).

Rebel Reggae

New CD compilation spotlights roots classics

By Greg Cahill

SOME nitwit on Entertainment Tonight last week compared hot-selling rapper and former Fugee Wyclef Jean–the onetime Haitian DJ who released his second solo CD, Ecleftic: 2 Sides II a Book, several weeks ago–to the late Bob Marley, the international superstar who catapulted reggae onto the world stage during the mid-’70s.

That’s like comparing brain-numbing Jamaican ganja to the cheap ragweed that sprouts wild along Midwestern railroad tracks, the remnants of the marijuana seed that used to tumble from freight cars loaded with cheap parakeet feed.

Context, children–sure, everybody and their mother, from Sting to Gwen Stefani and No Doubt, have milked Jamaican music for all its worth.

But there was a time when that music used to mean more than another chance to bastardize a great island sound and plunder deep cultural roots.

Jack Ruby Presents the Black Foundation (Heartbeat/Rounder), a newly compiled 17-song collection of Jamaican roots classics lives up to its hype as a musical journey through some of the greatest and most militant reggae music ever recorded.

The collection features timeless and vital hits by Burning Spear (including the rare singles version of the title track from his landmark 1975 album Marcus Garvey, one of the true classics of the genre and the seminal “rockers” release), Big Youth, the Heptones, Justin Hinds and the Dominoes, the Eagles (no, not the insipid Southern California rock group), the Black Survivors, and the Black Disciples, among others. The last-named supergroup featured such stalwart session players as bassists Robbie Shakespeare and Aston “Family Man” Barrett (of the Wailers), guitarist Earl “Chinna” Smith and Tony Chin, tenor saxophonist Tommy McCook (of the Skatalites), and trumpeter Bobby Ellis.

All the tracks share several things: they were produced by the legendary Jack Ruby (no, not the mob associate who blasted JFK assassin Lee Harvey Oswald), who was renowned for his trademark horn arrangements and lean, mysterious production; all were recorded for the Fox and Wolf labels, and several are heard here for the first time; and all are imbued with an abiding social and political consciousness that marked the best reggae of the ’60s and early ’70s.

WHILE MANY of these songs first saw the light of day on sound systems that gave birth to the DJ phenom and served as the inspiration for proto rappers, these are no mere dance-hall soundtracks. These powerful songs of slavery and rebellion, recorded in isolation at a time when American blacks were waging a pitched battle for civil rights, are deeply rooted in the repression of Jamaica–a fact that contributed directly to the spirit of their message.

For instance, Ruby often recorded Vinnie Taylor and the Revealers from a small studio in Port Maria, the principal town in the St. Mary’s parish, center of the famous 1760 slave rebellion known as Tacky’s war, in which 60 whites and 300 slaves were killed. The Revealers later became the Earth Last Messengers and eventually Jah Messengers, a vocal trio that brought their apocalyptic warnings about Babylon to dance floors in the ’90s.

That spirit of rebellion may have found its strongest voice in Burning Spear (a.k.a. Winston Rodney), the dreadlocked dervish whose mournful “Slavery Days” is included here. As Ruby told the British magazine Black Music in 1976, “There’s no roots singer down here that really maintain a standard like Burning Spear. The type of sound that Spear sing, as you listen the words it relate to black people, is black message. Any black man that know black history and listen to Spear got to take unto himself some truth.” *

From the September 21-27, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Sparks at the Inn

0

Haute stuff: Alex Bury has sparks flying at Sparks in Cotati, a wellexecuted gourmet vegan eatery.

Photograph by Michael Amsler

Enlightened Eating

Sparks serves gourmet vegan fare

By Paula Harris

NOT TOO LONG AGO a restaurant in food-lovin’ San Francisco turned gourmet dining on its collective shell-like ear by introducing a menu that was entirely vegan, entirely healthful–and entirely sumptuous.

Millennium focused on intricately prepared gourmet vegan delicacies. Pricey and hip, the candlelit eatery swiftly became a favorite among vegetarians and vegans and, yes, even among committed carnivores, who simply appreciate a delicious and creative dish (whether it once had a face or not).

Now, like Millennium, Cotati’s newly opened Sparks at the Inn is striving to make vegan food exciting and wonderful, no small feat given the blandness of many vegan foods, which are fleshless, eggless, and dairyless. The dishes at Sparks are influenced by the flavors of international cuisines and are made with mostly organic, nongenetically modified foods. There are even plans for upcoming vegan cooking classes at the restaurant.

Owner/chef Alex Bury received her training at New York’s chichi Culinary Institute of America, but her politics are purely community-oriented. “We are striving to run a successful business that does the least amount of harm possible,” states her menu. The napkins are recycled, unbleached paper; the wines are organic; and even the restaurant’s name, Sparks, is derived from the name of critter-activist group SPAR (Sonoma People for Animal Rights).

Sparks is located at the back of Cotati’s minimalist music venue/neighborhood watering hole, the Inn of the Beginning. This is both a blessing and a curse for the restaurant. A blessing because of the built-in exposure. A curse because after dinner the staff must completely convert the restaurant into a nightclub.

In addition, there’s the potential noise problem. Live concerts begin at 9 p.m., but if musicians start sound checks beforehand, that could interfere with the restaurant’s comfortable, intimate ambiance. Sparks is offering “a sound-check special,” a 10 percent discount for diners who endure excess noise.

But don’t let these hiccups deter you from trying this new restaurant; a recent meal suggested that dining here could well save you a trek to San Francisco.

THE PLACE IS SMALL and cozy, partitioned off from the bar by a thick black curtain. There are about 10 tables inside and a handful outside on the leafy enclosed patio. The ancient, thick wood-plank floor is dinged and scarred and full of character. The sponge-painted walls are rose, decorated with colorful horticultural photos. The tables (each with a painted top) hold flowerpots of different herbs, and tea lights with dried beans or lentils decorating the white wax flicker warmly. Music on the sound system runs from world beat to classical.

Our waitress, a very friendly and gracious server, brings water with fresh mint and lemon slices, a pot of bright-orange carrot “butter” (not actually butter, but carrots and zucchini puréed with olive oil), and hefty whole-grain rolls to smear it on.

A complimentary amuse-bouche is a single warm, plump clove of garlic encased in fritter batter with a well-balanced plum sauce of black beans, ginger, maple syrup, and fruit from the plum tree out back. A tasty morsel.

Appetizers include “sausage and potatoes” ($5.95). No, not real sausage–bite your tongue!–but house-made seitan medallions (made with protein-rich wheat gluten), with a warmed roasted-potato salad dressed with fennel and maple-mustard vinaigrette. The faux meat has the texture of true sausage, with a rich, smoky Louisiana-link flavor.

There’s also sushi salad ($5.95), with three sushi pieces filled with avocado and mango that tend to fall apart a bit. On the side is a neon-green wasabi sauce, along with a huge pile of salad greens, flecked with sesame seeds and smidgens of fresh ginger that give little sharp nips. Unfortunately, the salad dressing is so vinegar-laden it painfully puckers the cheeks.

The curried vegetable stew entrée ($9.95) is an extremely satisfying creamy golden curry of onions, yams, carrot, and squashes piled high with coconut-ginger jasmine. Although the dish is very flavorful, you’re not assaulted by the spices. It’s very smooth, but with a sly after-zing.

The savory tempeh (fermented soybean) loaf ($11.95) is a fine choice for any meat lover. Moist and tasty, it is generously made up of savory brown shiitake mushrooms and other veggies with a red wine sauce and served with extra-chunky garlic mashed potatoes (an unusual blend of creamy mashed spuds plus whole unskinned pieces). Also on the plate is one perfectly steamed baby bok choy and a cornbread muffin with delicate flecks of dill.

You won’t miss the meat, especially with a glass of red wine.

There’s a selection of Mendocino County Bonterra organic wines by the glass or bottle. A bottle of 1997 Bonterra zinfandel ($27) is lovely, full and spicy. Sparks also offers microbrews and imported beers and natural juices.

There’s also an exciting vegan dessert selection. A tart lemon curdlike custard ($4.95) is lighter than cream, heavier than Jello-O, with fresh fig slices, blueberries, and orange zest. But a pair of peach-blueberry fritters ($4.95), with an intense clove flavor, are overly heavy.

One novel touch: instead of an after-dinner mint, you get a sugary piece of crystallized ginger to give you a fiery-sweet blast. After eating vegan all evening, it’s surprising how sated one feels by the end.

Sparks at the Inn 8201 Old Redwood Hwy., Cotati; 664 0944 Hours: Tuesday-Saturday, 5 to 9 p.m. Food: Gourmet vegan; mostly organic and nongenetically modified foods Service: Friendly; low-key but efficient and gracious Ambiance: Intimate and comfortable bistro in the back of a music club and bar, so it could get noisy later in the evening Price: Moderate Wine list: Small selection of organic wines Overall: 3 stars (out of 4)

From the September 14-20, 2000 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Camera Art 2

Intrigue. Foto Fest Organizers of Camera Art 2 shoot for picture perfect By Paula Harris KATHLEEN McCallum paces through her art gallery and stops before one of her photographs. The image depicts two young boys at what appears to be a remote Mexican plaza. One kid, his tongue lolling in...

Usual Suspects

Protesters disclose the bare facts By Greg Cahill and Paula Harris FAMILIAR cheesecake? Not so. At first glance, the posters resemble the provocative ads for products like Victoria's Secret lingerie, Cosmopolitan magazine, or Obsession perfume--featuring beautiful, young, and very voluptuous models. But look closer (yes, go ahead do what you normally do) and check out...

Glassy-Winged Sharpshooter

Environmentalists grow impatient over tactics to combat glassy-winged sharpshooter By Tara Treasurefield FROM 1993 until a few months ago, Maxina Ventura lived in Schellville in the Sonoma Valley, where pesticides are sprayed on vineyards by both ground and air. A mother of two small children, Ventura says, "Research I did at the agricultural department showed...

New Folk Releases

Photograph by Diana Davis At the Source Two new folk compilations plumb the depths for source material By Greg Cahill GRUNGE IS DEAD, but the acoustic backlash that trailed in its wake is still going strong. These days, acoustic music is sustained by a new generation of fans who...

‘Cecil B. Demented’

Roger Corman-collaborator Beverly Gray critiques 'Cecil B. Demented' Writer David Templeton takes interesting people to interesting movies in his ongoing quest for the ultimate post-film conversation. This is not a review; rather, it's a freewheeling, tangential discussion of art, alternative ideas, and popular culture. "Well, it's no masterpiece of modern cinema--but...

‘As Thousands Cheer’

As Thousands Cheer. As 1,000s Jeer Revival of Berlin's musical is no crowd pleaser By Daedalus Howell UNLESS ONE is making Jackson Pollock knockoffs with a parakeet and a birdcage, newspapers just don't make good source material for artists. Playwright Moss Hart and songwriter Irving Berlin, however, mined the headlines...

Fashion Junkies

Fashion junkies abound in mainstream America By Laura Compton MY FRIEND Jeff used to be the most devoted thrifter I knew. An accountant by day and an artist the rest of the time, he visited Salvation Army stores sometimes twice a day, hit garage sales and flea markets every weekend, and created wallets and art...

Mistral

Mistral presents a local farm-food extravaganza By Paula Harris SET THE TABLE, set the stage. That's the motto master showman Michael Hirschberg, energetic proprietor of Santa Rosa's Mistral Restaurant and Wine Bar, and his equally star-struck staff seem to have taken on with unabashed theatrical glee. "Dinner here is like a performance,...

Burning Spear

Natural mystic: Burning Spear (a.k.a. Winston Rodney). Rebel Reggae New CD compilation spotlights roots classics By Greg Cahill SOME nitwit on Entertainment Tonight last week compared hot-selling rapper and former Fugee Wyclef Jean--the onetime Haitian DJ who released his second solo CD, Ecleftic: 2 Sides II a Book, several...

Sparks at the Inn

Haute stuff: Alex Bury has sparks flying at Sparks in Cotati, a wellexecuted gourmet vegan eatery. Photograph by Michael Amsler Enlightened Eating Sparks serves gourmet vegan fare By Paula Harris NOT TOO LONG AGO a restaurant in food-lovin' San Francisco turned gourmet dining on its collective shell-like ear...
11,084FansLike
4,606FollowersFollow
6,928FollowersFollow