Migrant Workers in Graton

Culture Clash

Michael Amsler



Spanish, spirit, and song grate some in Graton

By Stephanie Hiller

MARIO RAMOS is one of the lucky ones. Eldest son of 11 children in a poor Puerto Vallarta family, Ramos came to the small west county town of Graton as an exchange teacher in Oak Grove school’s bilingual program, and now owns Mexico Lindo, a nice little restaurant in town. He’s known as “profesor” among the Latinos here.

Nancy Kesserling, who knew Mario at Manzanita School, calls him “an angel in the community.”

She says he brought “Spanish, spirit, song–and soccer” to the school.

Now, Graton is in the midst of a major gentrification project that is putting local migrant workers at the heart of a heated public debate–and Ramos is stepping forward to help mediate the dispute.

A former school principal who oversaw the upgrade of his rural school with new classrooms and bathrooms with funds from the Rotary Club, Ramos is no stranger to community process.

And he’s not a man to forget his origins.

As long as anyone can remember, Mexican migrant workers have come here to work the orchards and the vineyards. For years, they’ve been lining up on summer mornings waiting for work, and lingering in the streets in the evenings before settling down to sleep under a local bridge.

They work hard, Ramos says. Whenever he has recommended workers to local people, “they have thanked me,” he adds.

THIS SUMMER Ramos went so far as to drive a van full of workers to help install a vineyard in Cazadero. Most of the money goes back to the workers’ families in Mexico. Sometimes they save the money to get a jump start on a business there.

One young man wanted to become a fisherman. “Down there, the government is so corrupt, he had no way to make money for the boat,” Ramos explains. The man earned that money here, and went home. Some say the number of workers has increased this year, but no one knows.

Certainly the gentrification of Graton has changed the scene’s backdrop.

The bars are gone, old buildings have been demolished, and new shops and restaurants have sprouted, one of them belonging to Ramos. Some of the new business owners have complained that the presence of migrant workers on the streets just doesn’t look good. Ramos, who has always been involved in the dialogue, was invited to address the problem at community meetings in 1993.

He began talking with the men about such unseemly behaviors as drinking on the streets.

“I talked to the guys–they understood,” Ramos says. “I said, ‘We don’t want the people to see us doing bad things.’ “

Since then, the men have learned to monitor themselves.

Beyond that, Mario says the community did not know what else it wanted to do, and the meetings stopped.

Still, many workers remain unhoused, and this year Graton environmentalists became concerned about garbage and pollution in the creek, produced by those workers who live under the bridge.

GASP, a group of citizens organized around the sewer issue, has proposed installation of two porta-potties in town for public use, under funding provided by bottling company AVG for creek restoration, after North Coast River Watch threatened to sue the company for inadequate disposal of waste.

At a meeting last week called by resident Ann Erikson, Graton residents met with Supervisor Mike Reilly, Sonoma County Sheriff’s Deputy Mike Raasch, and school principal Jim Waliszewski to discuss the situation.

The atmosphere was congenial. Residents appeared willing to work together to come up with solutions. The workers “are not committing violent crimes,” confirms Deputy Raasch.

Even then, “There’s a certain amount of race-based fear in the Anglo community,” says Craig Curley. A contractor, he works comfortably with many Latinos, but he knows women who are afraid to walk through town.

Merrilyn Joice, editor of the town’s Graton Gazette, has pointed out that most women she has queried speak not of fear but of “discomfort” about whether or not to say hello.

Principal Waliszewski told the meeting that he has “never seen anything inappropriate” when the men use the school basketball court, but he has recently received calls from concerned parents whose children are afraid to go there after school.

Proposed solutions include a park or community center, not only for the workers, but for youth, some of whom are now sporting gang colors.

“I’d rather have the workers than the Graton Boys,” says Curley, referring to alleged local gang activity.

Ramos would like to see some cooperative housing that could help get the workers off the streets. “The vision I have is some kind of place they can come to and pay for–a brasero program,” Ramos says.

“Let everyone do their part.”

Citizen participation and contributions are invited at the coming community meeting, Tuesday, Nov. 17, at 7 p.m., at the Oak Grove Elementary School, 8760 Bower St., in Graton.

From the November 12-18, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Frank Black

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Back in Black

Lisa Johnson



Ex-Pixies honcho Frank Black rocks on

By Greg Cahill

BECK SAID in an interview once that every song is like its own nation: “It has its own laws,” explains ex-Pixies kingpin Frank Black. “I really think that’s true–they come out the way they come out. I’m really just delivering the next batch of songs, whether people like that or not. I almost don’t have any control over it.”

Sounds mystical, but the latest batch of songs out of the blue has served this alt-rock innovator well. Frank Black and the Catholics (SpinArt) has garnered rave reviews for the singer, songwriter, and guitarist Rolling Stone once credited with fronting “the quintessential college rockers”–a major influence on Kurt Cobain and the alt-rock revolution that followed Nirvana’s 1991 pop chart ascendancy. It’s “the kind of weirdo rock that inspired 1,000 bands to call themselves ‘alternative,’ ” the Philadelphia City Paper recently opined about the rocker’s return to form. “Black invents and takes risks but stays true to his sound.”

And what a sound. Seductive pop melodies. Balls-to-the-wall surf riffs (“like the Beach Boys on acid,” a critic once noted). Otherworldly lyrics. Black’s deranged shrieks. Primal anarchy at its best.

“Even though I try not to read reviews,” admits the reclusive Black, during a phone call from his L.A. home, “it’s good to know there are some good ones out there.”

The thing that’s gotten those jaded rock crits so excited is that Black–who has been slammed in the past for overproducing otherwise sublime neo-psychedelic fare–opted this time for a raw, stripped-down approach that lends a spontaneous, vibrant spark to 11 originals and a raucous cover of Larry Norman’s honky-tonk classic “Six Sixty-Six.”

“We were feeling very proud of the demo [that became the new release], and believed that it should be a record in its own right,” says Black who fought to maintain the project’s initial integrity. “The producer thought it was the best demo he’d ever heard, and so he headed off for slicker, shinier records and we stayed with ours, captured at a moment before someone sucked all the heart out of it.

“All that tedious overdubbing and the latest fix-it-in-the-mix computer technology–we’re not interested in that. It’s rough and ready, a diamond in the rough.”

A LITTLE HISTORY. Frank Black started life 34 years ago as Charles Michael Kitteridge Thompson IV. His first taste of the rock life came while banging his guitar in the garage of the suburban L.A. home of his Pentecostal mother and stepfather. The family relocated to Boston. Rock ‘n’ roll took a back seat to other interests, namely astronomy. While living in Puerto Rico as a University of Massachusetts exchange student, Thompson decided either to travel to Australia in pursuit of Haley’s Comet or to form a band.

Rock ‘n’ roll won the toss. Back in Boston, the aspiring singer/songwriter teamed up with college roommate Joey Santiago, a rich Filipino kid with a knack for buzz-saw guitar licks. At the suggestion of his biker-bar owner biological dad, he changed his name to Black Francis, and adopted the moniker Pixies in Panoply for his band after hooking up with Ohio native Kim Deal, a novice bassist, and Deal’s drummer friend David Lovering.

In 1987, the Pixies released their explosive debut EP Come on Pilgrim on the artsy London-based 4AD label. It was followed the next year by the virulent full-length Surfer Rosa, capturing extensive college radio play and critical raves.

A major label deal followed. But by the time 1989’s breakthrough Doolittle (Elektra), which featured the college radio fave “Monkey Gone to Heaven,” hit the airwaves, the Pixies already were falling apart owing to tension between the band’s founder and Deal. The Pixies released two more albums–1990’s Bossanova (which featured some of Black’s best UFO-obsessed lyrics) and 1991’s Trompe le Monde–but by then Deal already had formed her own band, the Breeders, featuring Tanya Donelly of Throwing Muses.

“We carved out a nice little niche for ourselves,” reflects Black. “We had a good little run. But I don’t think that if we had stuck it out longer we would have been big and famous. I think that the music was far too quirky for that. The bands that sell millions and millions of records have some kind of mass appeal, a genuine pop cleverness or charisma.

“Sometimes it’s just because they’re lame and boring and that’s what people are looking for at a particular time.”

UNDER THE NEW pseudonym Frank Black, Thompson in 1993 recruited Santiago, members of Pere Ubu, and several session players and released his eponymous solo CD to mixed reviews. In subsequent years, Black fell out of favor with critics who once hailed him as an innovator but later turned against him for being too experimental. “I actually find that even my most quirky moments aren’t that quirky compared to [the avant-garde San Francisco group] the Residents or some band like that,” says Black. “I mean, compared to them I feel like I’m in the Bay City Rollers.

“But I guess it’s better to have people writing bad reviews about you than nothing at all. I’ve always been fortunate in that regard.”

These days, Black is living the good life–even the reviews are good. “I have a nice house, a beautiful girlfriend, lots of pets,” he says, sounding like the antithesis of the angst-ridden alt-rocker. “My home life is a pretty happy, warm, fuzzy experience in the California sunshine. It’s a nice thing to come home to after being in nightclubs and Holiday Inns for a few weeks.”

And as for the road, even that’s treating Black kindly. “You learn where the good cafes and truck stops are. You learn to love certain stretches of road just for the sheer beauty of it. And, of course, the big payoff at the end of most days is the gig. We get to play–that’s a great reward, getting to play at a rock show. I mean, that never gets boring. There’s always something exciting about it, whether it’s sold out or not. Whether it’s a big club or a tiny club. Whether it’s a great place or a shitty place. The bottom line is that you’re going to play music and there are going to be people there to hear you, so that always is there. There’s always a crowd. There’s always you. And there are always your instruments.

“It’s exciting to go out there and prove yourself, to go out there and say, “I have a great rock moment in me, so stick around for a while.’ “

Frank Black and the Catholics perform Friday, Nov. 20, at 8 p.m. at the Phoenix Theatre, 201 Washington St., Petaluma. Tickets are $10/$12. 415/974-0634.

From the November 12-18, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Filmmaker Gustavo Mosquera

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Vanished

By David Templeton



IN ARGENTINA, in the mid-1980s, whenever Gustavo Mosquera was stopped for “routine questioning” by the military police, he was asked the standard questions: his name, his address, and his occupation. If you were lucky, that was as far as it went.

“Every day the cops were putting us up against the wall, asking for our IDs,” Mosquera explains, “and asking for our ideas, too. Because ideas are what dictatorships are most afraid of.” Whenever questioned, the young Mosquera would reply, honestly, that he was a student, currently enrolled at the University of Buenos Aires.

“Then they would want to know what I was studying,” he continues. “So I would say, ‘electronic engineering,’ and they would let me go. ‘An electronic engineer? Those are not dangerous.’ ”

But what Mosquera, who is now a part-time resident of Santa Rosa, would always fail to mention was his other course of study, his passion, his first love: In addition to his engineering degree, he was also pursuing a degree in cinematic arts–with dreams of becoming a film director.

“The military dictatorship had no use for filmmakers,” he says of the since ousted cadre of military generals. “Artists of any kind–journalists, poets, writers, thinkers–had been disappearing. Thirty thousand people vanished during the military times. So my family begged me to have another occupation.”

That other occupation may have saved his life; it most certainly made him a better filmmaker.

“I’d gained so much knowledge about electronics and engineering,” says Mosquera, “and had come to appreciate mathematics and abstract ideas and the artistic works of people like M. C. Escher that it began to all come together in my films.”

Case in point: Moebius.

Made two years ago while Mosquera was teaching at the University in Buenos Aires, Moebius is a small-budget allegorical thriller about a missing subway train. Financed by the university, it was made with the assistance of a hand-picked “workshop” team of students. The film features a mathematician hero, numerous references to advanced mathematical concepts, striking visuals imbued with an Escher-like circuitousness, and special effects shot with a camera that Mosquera, employing his accidentally acquired engineering skills, designed himself.

“What I did was I found a very old 35-mm camera in an antique store,” he explains, reaching to pick up the case that holds the very same machine. “It was made in 1926. I basically took it apart and rebuilt it to do things it had never been intended to do.” Unveiling the camera–a rickety, smoky-black thingamajig–Mosquera lifts it from the case and holds it up proudly. “I changed the motor, added a few enhancements, a new belt. This is the camera that I held while hanging from the front of the subway train, riding back and forth for hours, filming the tunnel shots. I am now very fond of this camera.”

And audiences have become very fond of Moebius.

Michael Amsler



For the last two years, Mosquera has been globetrotting from film festival to film festival, with Moebius as his calling card. The film has picked up numerous awards and been enthusiastically received in Hong Kong, Singapore, China, and throughout Europe, and has also performed well at the Sundance and San Francisco film festivals. The movie will receive its local premiere this weekend at the Sonoma Film Institute, on the Sonoma State University campus.

ON THE SURFACE, it’s an eerie and compelling mystery story set in the labyrinthine tunnels under Buenos Aires, loaded with nifty surreal tinges and a sly, satisfyingly metaphysical payoff. Underneath that, however, there is a poetic, richly symbolic exploration of Argentina’s abiding national guilt over the vanishing of those 30,000 disappeared people, a subject on which the country’s current democratic government has remained staunchly silent. As with the missing subway train, it is ultimately easier for the bureaucrats to forget all about it than to pursue the mystery further into the unthinkable darkness.

“The festivals have been a very big help,” Mosquera allows. “They have increased the reputation of this film in ways that I could not have done on my own.” While staying in Northern California–his fiancée, Terra Miezwa, is a longtime local resident–Mosquera has been meeting with various Hollywood movers and shakers, hoping to turn Moebius’ indie glitter into a chance at mainstream gold.

But according to Mosquera, any such alchemy will have to be on his terms.

“I’ve been told by many producers,” he says, “that Hollywood is not in the business of making movies for intellectuals. It’s crazy. You’d think they would be so happy when someone brings them a well-written script, a script that tries for something deeper and better than all of the rest.”

He sighs. “Hollywood believes that the audiences are stupid, but they are not. I know that they deserve better than much of what they’ve been getting.”

While Moebius was made for only $250,000, his next film, he hopes, will be made, in English, for $3 million–still a pittance by Hollywood standards. Like Moebius, it will be a philosophical fable disguised as science fiction.

But first, there are a few more festivals to attend.

“I’ve been asked to take the film to Korea, to Calcutta,” Mosquera says. “But I believe it is nearing the time to stop all of that. As much as I love Moebius, I am ready to make a new one.

“All I need is for some producer to say, ‘Yes. Green light. Let’s go.’ “

The Sonoma Film Institute screens Moebius on Nov. 13 and 14 at 7 p.m. at the Darwin Theater, Sonoma State University, 1801 E. Cotati Ave., Rohnert Park. Admission is $2.50-$4.50. 664-2606.

From the November 12-18, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Talking Pictures

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Past Imperfect

Glory days: William Macy and Joan Allen get ready for revolution in Pleasantville.

Author Clyde Edgerton on ‘Pleasantville’

By David Templeton

Writer David Templeton takes interesting people to interesting movies in his ongoing quest for the ultimate post-film conversation. This time out, he takes a stroll through Pleasantville with best-selling Southern author Clyde Edgerton.

IT’S A LONG WAY from North Carolina to San Francisco, and Clyde Edgerton–appearing now at the front door of a massive downtown cineplex–looks as if he’s walked the whole way on foot. His eyes are remarkably red, his unshaven, smiling face broadcasts the effort of every stifled yawn. He’s in California for a string of bookstore readings–his 1997 best-selling novel Where Trouble Sleeps has just been released in paperback–and he’s graciously agreed to go to the movies before his first appearance. Even so, I’m feeling more than a little guilty, fearing that Edgerton might be happier back at his hotel–you know, taking a nice long nap.

“Oh, I’m all right,” he says in a warm drawl, suppressing another yawn. “I may end up fallin’ asleep during the movie–but hell, if you don’t mind, I don’t mind.”

I don’t mind. And for the record, Edgerton doesn’t fall asleep.

In fact, Pleasantville proves to be a stimulating experience. You’ve seen the commercials: Two ’90s teenagers (Reese Witherspoon and Toby Maguire) are transported into the strictly black-and-white world of a ’50s television sitcom, infecting the townsfolk (including Joan Allen and William H. Macy) with a kind of Technicolor virus as the citizens’ private passions are gloriously, sometimes frighteningly, awakened.

By the end of the film, Edgerton has been temporarily energized.

“Though I wanted it to be funnier,” he points out. “It could have been one funny-ass movie.”

Pleasantville is a film about many things, but chiefly it’s a satire on modern conservative attitudes, poking holes in the right-wing’s insistence that America in the ’90s needs an infusion of ’50s values. Certainly, the colorful changes brought to the town of Pleasantville have a dark side–with shades of McCarthyism and racial segregation, erupting into book burning and ugly hate crimes. The filmmakers seem to be saying that, sure, changes can be difficult. But in the end, freedom is always worth the complications that come with it.

Edgerton’s own work explores similar territory. Walking across Egypt (soon to be made into a film itself), Killer Diller, and especially Where Trouble Sleeps, all show the conflict between old ways of thinking and new. In Trouble, a tiny ’50s Southern town–a rundown version of Pleasantville–is forever altered, for good and ill, when a mysterious stranger drives into town with larceny in his heart and a trunk full of dirty movies. The way the town ultimately deals with the stranger, and the mark he leaves behind, is unforgettable.

“We talk about the way the world was in the ’50s and the way it is now,” Edgerton says after the film, as we sit in a nearby diner. “But when we think of the ’50s, we can’t really remember what the ’50s were like. We remember the way the ’50s were in some movie or some TV show or in photographs. Politicians say that the ’50s were such a wonderful time, a time of family values and goodness. That’s true–but it’s also not true.

“In my life, when I was growing up in the ’50s, there was no discussion of sex, certainly, but there was no discussion of any new ways of thinking,” he continues. “Harmony had to prevail. Harmony had to be in the family and in the community. There was no such thing as an outspoken person–unless they were crazy.

“In my family, especially on my father’s side of the family, he always worshiped his parents. He and his sisters stayed at home, very close to their parents. In a sense, they gave up their lives; they didn’t look for options or even think about moving away. They just stayed there, almost in a kind of psychological, emotional incest.”

“Which was bad,” I interject.

“Well, it’s good and bad,” he replies. “I think–not only in the South, but in many rural areas, especially agricultural areas, where the family lived and worked in sight of each other, from dawn to dark, every day of the year, year after year–a certain level of harmony had to happen in order to survive.”

EVER READ Robert Bly?” I ask.”Not much,” Edgerton returns. I explain the controversial assertion by the poet/men’s movement leader that one of men’s biggest problems is that we no longer grow up in sight of our fathers, are no longer trained in our father’s trade. “Bly says that a kind of spiritual food was once passed from father to son,” I sum up, “and that isn’t done much today, to the spiritual detriment of all men.”

“Well, that’s fine as long as you don’t have an asshole for a father,” Edgerton tosses back, amiably. “As soon as you have an asshole father you learn asshole ways that you pass on to your asshole son. There were plenty of people living at home and who knew their fathers in the ’50s, and in a lot of cases, because they grew up with their father, and because of that militaristic emotional bonding, they didn’t ever do anything on their own–because of their father.”

He let out a yawn again–a great big one–as I mention a recent Time magazine article. Critical of Pleasantville, the writer argued that the ’50s were far less dark than what followed; we gained sexual and artistic freedom at the cost of drug addiction, AIDS, and teen pregnancy.

Time magazine can make the same argument about the Middle Ages,” Edgerton says. “They could say, ‘Well, you know, in the Middle Ages they didn’t have AIDS, so the Middle Ages weren’t all bad.’ Depends on who you were in the Middle Ages, where you fell in the class structure. The ’50s were nice for middle-class white men. OK. But if you were black? If you were a woman? In the ’50s? It was a hell of a lot worse for you.

“The thing is, when we talk about returning the ’50s–either literally, like in the movie, or figuratively, by regaining some sense of values–you can’t. You can’t do it. We can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube. The differences between today and the ’50s are too great. Like I said, we’ve forgotten what it was really like back then, but it wasn’t Ozzie and Harriet.

“What I’m tryin’ to say is,” he concludes, politely covering one last yawn, “we’ve covered so much ground since the ’50s–ground we don’t even remember covering–that we no longer even recognize how far we’ve come.”

“We’ve come a long way, baby?” I say with a laugh.

Edgerton nods, smiles, and shrugs all at once: “You bet we have.”

From the November 12-18, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

The Scoop

Geriatics Gene

By Bob Harris

THIS JUST IN: Some researchers at Cal Tech are screwing around with the genetic blueprint of the Drosophilia melanogaster fruit fly. These fruit fly geeks have discovered that the little buggers’ life spans and ability to react to stress both seem to be linked to a specific gene, a mutation they call the “Methuselah” gene.

Methuselah fruit flies live about a third longer than your average fruit fly, although that’s still not long enough to get an operator when you call an airline. And it turns out they also survive stress a lot better, which is probably why they live longer.

The scientists discovered this by subjecting the poor things to starvation, heat, and various horrifying toxins, thus proving conclusively that scientists need to get out more.

Anyhow, it turns out there’s a similar Methuselah gene in worms–I mean, some of these science people could really use some sun–and so a lot of aging experts now think that a similar gene might exist in humans.

Or at least that’s the opinion of one of the directors of the National Institute on Aging, Dr. David Finkelstein.

Dr. Frankenstein–excuse me, Dr. Finkelstein–thinks that if they can find the human Methuselah gene, then they can play with it and tweak it and build on it and thereby create a better, stronger überhuman.

I do not like where this is going.

Suppose they eventually find this Methuselah gene in humans. Suppose they figure out how to get it turned on. And suppose the procedure is available outside the laboratory.

Who’s gonna benefit? Working people like you and me, or the same bunch of banker wankers and Beltway bandits who benefit from everything else?

If you’ve seen the movie Cocoon, yes, sure, it’s fun to imagine a good long soak in the longevity pool.

But who wants to live forever if you have to spend eternity next to Pat Buchanan wearing a Speedo?

AND NOW for something completely different …

As you probably already know, I’m opposed to both recreational drug use and almost all of the anti-drug campaigns I’ve ever heard. When I see some actress swinging a frying pan, I don’t learn anything. I just flashback to this cute little nut-case chick I dated in Brooklyn 10 years ago. One minute I’m the man of her dreams, the next minute I’m Snuffy Smith and she’s Loweezy with a rolling pin. Boink.

Anyhow.

I talk to college kids about drugs all the time. And you get a lot more mileage just by telling the truth.

A 20-year-old guy already knows that marijuana probably isn’t going to cause him to have unprotected sex and die of AIDS, which is an actual anti-drug message seen on billboards in many major cities. But if you tell him that long-term use is associated with increased breast growth in men–which it is–all of a sudden you’ve got his attention. No guy wants to have a bigger cup size than his girlfriend. At least outside of prison.

There are spectacularly strong reasons not to screw around with drugs. And honesty is the only way to get to the other side.

OK. So on the off chance anybody out there is young enough to do the rave scene and dabble around with the street drug Ecstasy, listen up.

A big study from Johns Hopkins has just shown that Ecstasy use can permanently alter your brain chemistry in a way that can screw up your ability to experience the sensations that we call happiness, possibly for life.

How happy you feel is largely related to your brain’s ability to manufacture and react to the neurotransmitter serotonin. Lots of mood-altering drugs, including prescription stuff like Prozac, act by manipulating various aspects of your serotonin levels and reactions.

When people mess around with various recreational additives, what they’re often doing (without realizing it) is trying to forcibly adjust their serotonin levels. Which works to a certain extent, although usually with the same subtlety and long-term efficacy as changing TV channels with a brick.

This new study shows quite strongly that if you use Ecstasy, there is a dose-related decrease in your brain’s ability to transport serotonin. And then you’re looking at long-term and possibly permanent risk for depression, anxiety, or even dating me.

Fortunately, there’s also some good news on the subject.

If you’re already subject to depressions, there’s substantial evidence that you might be able to raise your serotonin level by increasing your dietary intake of 5-hydroxytryptophan, which is present in lots of veggie foods, tofu, and other stuff you should already be eating anyway but probably aren’t. Which is not to say that tofu is an antidote to Ecstasy. No matter how much some of you carnivores out there might feel as though it is.

In any case, see your doctor before you go mucking about with your brain chemistry. Sure, bizarre side effects are entertaining and all, but you don’t want to live with them permanently.

Trust me.

I tried that once in Brooklyn.

From the November 12-18, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Mariposa

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Windsor Winner

Spreading their (butterfly) wings: Mariposa co-owner Shawn Kearney-Tang, above, has brought a splash of sophistication to Windsor.

New restaurant serves stylish, unfussy fare

By Paula Harris

IT’S EVENING and we’re in the car heading for the old part of town. Driving slowly along a quiet neighborhood street, we spy a small patio enclosed with a white picket fence, where tiny lights beckon from the trees and a few diners relax beneath white canvas umbrellas, nursing glasses of something sparkly. In the background is an old frame house fashioned into a sophisticated restaurant, where the appetizing smells of gourmet cuisine and the sounds of mellow jazz waft from the open door.

Are we in Sonoma? Healdsburg? Glen Ellen, perhaps? Nope, guess again. It’s Windsor. Mariposa, a 5-month-old restaurant on Windsor River Road, is changing the face of the county’s youngest town, hitherto regarded as a culinary wasteland.

Chef Ray Tang–formerly of Postrio and Boulevard in San Francisco, and Lespinasse in New York–is now treating Windsor to his talents. Mariposa means “butterfly” in Spanish, but the menu is French with shades of Asian. The restaurant is tiny, only nine or so indoor tables, so reservations are recommended. Inside, the minimalist decor is offset by a warm wood floor, low ceiling, and tea lights, which glimmer through colorful glass holders on each table. Our server brings us good crusty bread and we prepare to feast.

First up is a sublime potato leek soup with asparagus and truffle oil ($5.75). The pistachio green soup features two white asparagus spears crisscrossed atop. The subtly flavored and creamy broth holds a hidden surprise: tender-crisp chunks of leeks lurk within.

Next, we try the sweet garlic and chive gnocchi with a ragout of chanterelle mushrooms and fingerling potatoes ($7.75). These are melt-in-the-mouth pillows with a toasty exterior. The gnocchi, ultra-thin potato coins, snipped chives, garlic flecks, drizzles of parsley coulis, and the delicate meat of chanterelle mushrooms blend seamlessly into an amazing layer of flavors.

The sizzling black mussels with a sweet pepper curry and sautéed pea sprouts ($7.50) sizzle indeed. They arrive in a small (but very noisy) square cast-iron skillet. A taste of those plump, rosy-coral-shelled mussels is like a blast of sea spray. Thin red pepper strips, pea sprouts, and a thin sauce with a gentle bite of curry give the dish an Oriental twist. Flirting with gluttony, we next order the butternut squash risotto ($12.75), a large bowl of steaming yellow rice scattered with a few lusty red pomegranate seeds, a generous dollop of mascarpone cheese, and some wilted greens.

The one low point of the meal is the red wine braised-beef back ribs ($16.50). The dish features two large beef stick-to-the-ribs ribs, a pool of rich gravy, and a smooth purée of mashed potato with a horseradish kick. While the meat from one rib falls off the bone, the meat on the other is fatty and tough. The dish also tastes overly salty.

Though the wine list is small, it includes some great selections. Eleven wines are offered by the glass. While the service seems a bit harried at times, it is good overall. The servers are quite laid back (they even wear jeans), and add to the stylish, yet casual, atmosphere.

From the tiny dessert list, we choose the blackberry zinfandel sorbet ($3.75), which is an intense icy treat–vividly colored and brimming with fruit flavor. We also try the lemongrass and cardamom crême brûlée ($5.25), a spicy, creamy concoction with a flavor reminiscent of chai tea.

Our parting advice? Give those trendy gourmet towns a miss this time. Get in the car and head for Windsor. Just be sure to make a reservation first.

Mariposa 275 Windsor River Road, Windsor; 838-0162 Hours: Open Tuesdays through Saturdays 5:30 to 9 p.m. Food: French with Asian influences Service: Good though a bit rushed Ambiance: Stylish, but casual Price: Moderate to expensive Wine list: Great quality, mid-priced selection, and several good wines by the glass Overall: ***1/2 stars (out of 4)

From the November 12-18, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Book Picks

Book Picks

By Michelle Goldberg and Christine Brenneman

Girl Walking Backwards By Bett Williams St. Martins Press; $12.95

BETT WILLIAMS’ Girl Walking Backwards is one of those novels that I want to foist on every woman I know because it’s so poignant and funny and sad about growing up smart, female, and miserable. Skye is a Southern California high school student whose mother is a prescription-drug-addicted, New Age-obsessed mess. An inexperienced lesbian, Skye falls for a crazy Goth girl with a habit of self-mutilation. Although Girl Walking Backwards is full of drugs and teenage sex–both cynically casual and sweetly exhilarating–it’s neither exploitative nor cautionary and condescending. Instead, the novel manages to be gripping, astonishingly insightful, and so refreshing it feels as if you’re reliving the frustrating, naive, and emotionally amplified days right before you finally get out on your own.–M.G.

Like Never Before By Ehud Havazelet Farrar Straus & Giroux; $23

THIS STUNNING collection of interlinked stories follows a Jewish family from Nazi-era Europe to present-day Manhattan. Like a family photo album, Ehud Havazelet’s spare, restrained prose captures the Birnbaums at decisive moments, sometimes returning to them decades later as they move in and out of each other’s lives. In “Lyon,” a boy sees his brother rounded up by the Nazis and has to ignore him to avoid being taken himself. “Ruth’s Story” puts us inside the head of a dying woman as she resigns herself to her life. By telling the Birnbaums’ story in these vignettes instead of in an epic novel, Havazelet achieves a kaleidoscopic perspective, in which each of his deftly drawn characters is seen through the eyes of the others. –M.G.

Friendly Fire By Kathryn Chetkovich University of Iowa Press; $15.95

WINNER OF the 1998 John Simmons Short Fiction Award, Kathryn Chetkovich’s Friendly Fire manages the difficult trick of being at once deeply comic and emotionally profound. This selection of finely wrought short stories centers around the ties that bind us to the people we love. The deep pain and terrible joy of such relationships emanates from these tales as Chetkovich explores the interactions between women and their friends, lovers, and family. Seamlessly woven together, this collection takes the reader on a fascinating journey into another person’s world of mishaps, encounters, and moving moments. The author has a wonderful way with metaphor and manages the flow of her prose with a deft hand. Although common human experience constitutes the subject matter of Friendly Fire, Chetkovich makes the ordinary seem extraordinary.–C.B.

From the November 5-11, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Transit Tax Plan

Gridlock

Watchdog: Transit activist Richard Gaines participated in a recent transit forum. This week, Gaines and other successful opponents of Measures B and C were planning their next move in a bid to create an effective rail system.

Local environmentalists pick up the pieces after defeat of transit tax plan

By Greg Cahill and Paula Harris

THERE COULD BE a rocky road ahead for North Bay transit. The overwhelming defeat this week of sales tax measures in Marin and Sonoma counties that would have funded nearly a billion dollars in transportation improvements threatens to unravel the fragile coalition of environmentalists, business leaders, and public officials that spent eight years constructing the transit fix.

“There’s definitely a danger that the special interests might go back to their respective corners,” says Mark Green, executive director of Sonoma County Conservation Action, a leading environmental group that had lobbied for the passage of Measures B and C. SCCA had viewed the transit package as a last chance to construct a passenger rail service, agreeing to the plan under the condition that the business community, which wanted two extra freeway lanes on Highway 101, would in turn back a start-up rail system on the old Northwestern Pacific Line between Santa Rosa and San Rafael.

The coalition arose after the 1990 defeat of similar sales tax measures in the North Bay. Public opinion polls have shown that there is not enough support for just extra freeway lanes or merely a passenger-rail package. “The environmental community would have been dumped by the business community a long time ago if that weren’t the case,” says Green. “We all have to be bedfellows if we’re going to get our packages accepted by the public. That’s the nature of consensus politics.”

Separate ballot measures that spelled out a wish-list of more freeway lanes, a passenger rail service, beefed-up bus service, additional bike trails, and other transit improvements won by a landslide in both counties. But Sonoma and Marin voters rejected by a 2-1 margin a pair of companion advisory measures that would have authorized a 1/2-cent, 20-year sales tax increase to pay for the improvements. In an effort to skirt a state law requiring a two-thirds vote to enact such tax increases, county officials had placed non-binding, advisory measures on the ballot that would have requested but did not require the boards of supervisors in the North Bay communities to spend the tax revenue on transportation improvements.

In Sonoma County, the transit measures were at the heart of a contentious battle, and became a major focus in the 2nd Supervisorial District race in which Petaluma Police Sgt. Mike Kerns defeated Petaluma City Councilwoman Jane Hamilton for a seat on the board. Backers of Measures B and C outspent opponents by a 28-1 margin, spending nearly $400,000 on mailers, billboards, and radio spots while opponents laid out a mere $14,000 on a single mailer.

“Now we just have to go back to the drawing board,” says veteran Sonoma county conservationist Bill Kortum. “The encouraging thing is that 72 percent of the voters want that transit package, both rail and freeway improvements. Now we have to figure out how to finance it.”

Yet the sales tax measures may have been doomed from the start. “[The rejection of the tax measures] reflects an attitude that’s a nationwide phenomenon,” says Sonoma State University assistant professor of political science Catherine Nelson. “People are making more demands of government, but they don’t want to pay for them.”

But some observers think the defeat says more about distrust than stinginess. “I don’t think the defeat of the taxes says anything about people’s lack of willingness to pay for these improvements,” concludes Green. “I don’t think [opponents of the measures] can take any comfort in this as a mandate from the people. There is a legitimate concern about trust. If this had been a binding measure [in Sonoma County], I think it would have passed.”

Others agree that the advisory measure was a weak link in the transit package and may have been viewed as a sneaky attempt by county officials to get a blank check from voters. “I think the message is clear: People are wary of the split-vote idea,” says Greenbelt Alliance North Bay field representative Chris Brown. “The campaigns that opposed the transportation measures focused on the notion that you couldn’t trust supervisors to spend the revenue on the intended purpose, and voters responded.”

Richard Gaines of the Citizens Against Wasting Millions–the loose-knit coalition of environmentalists and tax watchdogs that successfully opposed the sales tax measure–says county officials need to learn that voters simply won’t support a regressive sales tax to fund transit improvements. “People don’t want to see the sales tax as a way to fund transportation, since highways have been traditionally funded through the gas tax since the Eisenhower administration,” says Gaines. “People don’t want to get taxed on toilet paper to get highway fixes.”

So what’s next? Sonoma County Supervisor Paul Kelley says the county board will consider placing a binding sales tax measure on a ballot sometime in the future. “We’re going to get as much state and federal funding as possible and try to analyze what’s happened here [in the election],” he says. “I understand the reluctance of the public to pay a big sales tax increase when they’re already paying a big gas tax.

“This result means it’s practically impossible to get a commuter rail system up and running at this point.”

Kortum suggests that county officials will have to resolve themselves to finding multiple sources of funding, including a proposed Bay Area-wide special gas tax that could be used for highway changes and rail, toll lanes in the Novato Narrows area, and maybe a 1/4-cent sales tax increase.

ONE THING most conservationists on both sides of the Measures B and C debate agree on is that they will rally to push jointly for an even more ambitious passenger-rail service. “What we really need to do is get a coalition on high-speed rail and make sure the funding comes from the gas tax,” says Gaines. “If this country wants to compete with Europe and with efficient rail systems, we need to be competitive. We need a campaign to increase the federal and state gas tax to a responsible level and fund high-speed rail.”

If the local rail plan is scrapped altogether, the county stands to lose $28 million in state transportation funds earmarked for a passenger train. “We would need a rail plan by January 2000 that would provide for a start-up within three years and specify funding sources and timetables,” explains rail advocate Lionel Gambill, adding that state and federal rail funds will be made available locally only if the county kicks in additional revenue.

“The big question is whether there’s any way we’ll be able to get enough [local funding] to be classified as a self-help county,” says Gambill. “If not, we won’t get federal or state funds, period. We’re could be left out in the cold, and we don’t really have anything to fall back on.”

Gaines wants the county to get busy right away on a two-track, high-speed passenger-rail service that could feed into a similar statewide system planned for the next decade. Greenbelt Alliance, which remained neutral on the Sonoma County transit measures but backed their Marin counterparts, plans to start working in the next few weeks with environmentalists on both sides of the Measures B and C debate to see if there is support for a more ambitious rail plan.

“There is a lot of energy here,” says urban planner Laura Hall, who helped organize opposition to the local ballot measures. “We are ready to move forward with the people who have been working on [passenger rail] for years. I believe that we can come forward with a rail system that is more effective than the one proposed in Measure B.

“We can make it work.”

From the November 5-11, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Spins

0

Young Gods

New CDs from Beck, Bob Dylan

By Greg Cahill

Beck Mutations DGC/Bong Load

I GOTTA ADMIT, I never really got bitten by the Beck bug. Sure, the wry singer-songwriter has produced some of the most interesting pop music of the past decade–“Loser” was clever as all get out, winning mainstream attention for the Kansas-born punk/rock folkie who once described himself as “bursting on the scene like a pathetic, gold-plated sperm.”

Over the years, Beck has toyed with the do-it-yourself sensibility, goofed on the whole white-boy hip-hop attitude, and unleashed a host of CDs that blended rock, pop, punk, hip-hop, country, trance-pop–it all ended up in the eclectic Beck mix.

The result of that toss-it-against-the-wall-and-see-if-it-sticks approach: a handful of utterly infectious, hook-heavy numbers that include the 1997 MTV hit “The New Pollution.” But for the most part, you could never accuse Beck of being tuneful.

Until now.

Mutations reveals that inside this rock-‘n’-roll jester is a Ray Davies just dying to get out. And by and large, Beck lets that inner child run free on an album that reportedly started out as something of a joke until Beck discovered that he’d produced some damn fine work that features reflective Kinks influences with an occasional splash of Syd Barrett thrown in for good measure. There are even some out-and-out blues (check out the self-effacing “Bottle of Blues”) and a New Orleans-style R&B arrangement that offset the obligatory and trendy Brazilian lounge-act stuff.

The bottom line is that Beck, at the ripe old age of 28, has produced his most cohesive-sounding CD to date–and you know that can’t be bad.

Bob Dylan Live 1966, The Royal Albert Hall Concert, The Bootleg Series, Vol. 4 Columbia/Legacy

THIS NEWLY RELEASED two-CD set finally makes available (legitimately) one of the most important bootlegged historical documents in rock history–you know, the kind of stuff that rock critic Greil Marcus can wank on about ad nauseam. It’s important because this material captures an often combative Dylan performing in England shortly after his breakthrough electrified set at the Newport Folk Festival, at which his manager allegedly grappled backstage with axe-wielding folkie Pete Seeger, who was intent on cutting the power to Dylan’s electric guitar–you see, children, folk-music purists supposedly were greatly offended by that racket. Of course, all this–including the 1966 Royal Albert Hall show–is a big part of the Dylan myth. While they were landmark performances, Dylan already had made it clear he was launching headfirst into folk-rock. His in-your-face slam at Newport and later in jolly old England–where amidst the catcalls you can hear one audience member yell, “Judas!”–simply made it clear there was no looking back.

On disc 2 you get to hear Dylan, sounding sloshed and accompanied by members of the Band and soon-to-be Monkees drummer Mickey Jones, in all his ragged glory. It’s great stuff. But the real treat is disc 1, which offers stunning solo acoustic versions of “Visions of Joanna,” “Just Like a Woman,” “Desolation Row,” and other tunes, all sung in a pleasant low register reminiscent of his countrified vocals in Nashville Skyline.

It’s not that Dylan shouldn’t have forged ahead with his bold folk-rock vision, but the first disc makes you realize just why those folk purists felt so betrayed by this young pop god.

From the November 5-11, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Alvin Ailey & Michael Smuin Companies

New Wave

Sueños Latinos, coming Nov. 21 and 22 to Spreckels.

Michael Amsler



Visiting dance companies are bent on flouting conventions

By Patrick Sullivan

HERE ARE a few scenes from the front lines of dance: A lithe young woman conducts a sizzling solo performance of passion with a chair. A half-dozen agile bodies roll with astonishing, gravity-defying grace over one another, from floor to bench and back again. A costumed couple juggles sombreros, guns, and bandoleers full of bullets as they fly with casual grace above the stage.

Face facts: This is not your father’s ballet. Bored by old conventions, dance has changed, adapted, mutated. Some would say that companies such as Smuin Ballet/SF and the Alvin Ailey Repertory Ensemble, the two dynamic dance troupes about to roll into Sonoma County this month, have more in common with a music video than The Nutcracker. But this is not, as some critics have called it, dance for the MTV generation.

“I don’t think that’s very accurate,” says Michael Smuin, founder and director of Smuin Ballet. “I think MTV is for people who can’t concentrate on any one image for long. That’s why there’s all that fast cutting and fades and trickery.”

But then the head of the small but wildly popular five-year-old San Francisco dance troupe relents a bit.

“I guess what they may mean is that my work is accessible to a lot of people,” Smuin says. “That it’s not just tutus and swans and fairy-tale people, that a lot of the work is based on what’s real. And then there’s the music that I use: I use everything from Willie Nelson to Bach. So there’s a variety.”

Smuin’s colorful career has certainly prepared him for eclectic creativity. Of course, he has all the standard credentials in classical ballet, including over 10 years as director of the San Francisco Ballet. But he’s also worked as a choreographer on everything from ice shows to circus acts to Hollywood movies (including The Return of the Jedi) to shows on Broadway, where he won a Tony Award for his work on Cole Porter’s Anything Goes.

“I’ve done it all,” Smuin says with a laugh. “It wasn’t necessarily a matter of choice; it was a matter of survival, of working. You went where the work was, and that was good, because it was really an education.”

Smuin’s latest creation will soon hit the stage at Spreckels Performing Arts Center, just a few weeks after the work’s premiere in San Francisco. Sueños Latinos was inspired by music written by composer Aaron Copland during his travels through Mexico and Cuba. Smuin describes the new 30-minute dance production as a Cubist mosaic of sounds and images.

“It’s a collage of bulls and charros and sombreros and Day of the Dead and all those kinds of things put together,” Smuin says. “And the only form really is the form of the music. It’s quite exciting and very dreamlike.”

Both Sueños Latinos and the sexy Carmina Burana, the other work Smuin Ballet will offer in Sonoma County, are dramatically non-traditional. That, according to Smuin, is the key to keeping audience entertained in an age dominated by Hollywood blockbusters.

CAPTURING an audience through innovation takes on added importance in these days of declining public funding for the arts. That’s a lesson that the Alvin Ailey American Dance Theater has learned the hard way.

The venerable dance institution, founded in 1958 by the African American dancer Alvin Ailey, has faced deep cuts in its funds from the National Endowment for the Arts in recent years. But ticket sales have pulled the company through that financial crisis, and one look at their dynamic performances goes a long way toward explaining their box office popularity. It should be no surprise that pop star Madonna once studied with the Alvin Ailey dance troupe: The company aims for accessibility, trying to bring in folks who might otherwise be going to rock concerts.

That smooth accessibility holds especially true for the work of the Alvin Ailey Repertory Ensemble. The young dancers of Alvin Ailey’s second company perform to music ranging from classical to jazz, and their passionate moves and high-energy choreography are anything but traditional.

But will all the revolutionary innovation in the world be enough to make dance converts out of the young audiences of the future? And how can artists keep dance fresh and hip without becoming just a live-action version of a music video? These are challenges that the dance world is struggling to meet, according to Smuin.

“I think there’s not that much new work being done that’s significant, and the ballet boom is definitely over,” he says. “So you really have to come up with interesting, demanding, entertaining work to capture an audience and keep them.”

The Alvin Ailey Repertory Ensemble performs at 7:30 p.m. on Thursday, Nov. 12, at the Luther Burbank Center, 50 Mark West Springs Road, Santa Rosa. Tickets are $22, $20 for seniors, $17 for students. 546-3600.

Smuin Ballet/SF appears at 8 p.m. on Nov. 21 and at 2:30 p.m. on Nov. 22 at the Spreckels Performing Arts Center, 5409 Snyder Lane, Rohnert Park. General admission is $25, $22 for seniors. 584-1700.

From the November 5-11, 1998 issue of the Sonoma County Independent.

© Metro Publishing Inc.

Migrant Workers in Graton

Culture Clash Michael Amsler Spanish, spirit, and song grate some in Graton By Stephanie Hiller MARIO RAMOS is one of the lucky ones. Eldest son of 11 children in a poor Puerto Vallarta family, Ramos came to the small west county town of Graton as an exchange teacher in Oak Grove school's bilingual...

Frank Black

Back in Black Lisa Johnson Ex-Pixies honcho Frank Black rocks on By Greg Cahill BECK SAID in an interview once that every song is like its own nation: "It has its own laws," explains ex-Pixies kingpin Frank Black. "I really think that's true--they come out the way they come out. I'm really just delivering...

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Vanished By David Templeton IN ARGENTINA, in the mid-1980s, whenever Gustavo Mosquera was stopped for "routine questioning" by the military police, he was asked the standard questions: his name, his address, and his occupation. If you were lucky, that was as far as it went. "Every day the cops were putting us up against...

Talking Pictures

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The Scoop

Geriatics Gene By Bob Harris THIS JUST IN: Some researchers at Cal Tech are screwing around with the genetic blueprint of the Drosophilia melanogaster fruit fly. These fruit fly geeks have discovered that the little buggers' life spans and ability to react to stress both seem to be linked to a specific gene, a mutation...

Mariposa

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Book Picks

Book Picks By Michelle Goldberg and Christine Brenneman Girl Walking Backwards By Bett Williams St. Martins Press; $12.95 BETT WILLIAMS' Girl Walking Backwards is one of those novels that I want to foist on every woman I know because it's so poignant and funny and sad about growing up smart, female, and miserable....

Transit Tax Plan

Gridlock Watchdog: Transit activist Richard Gaines participated in a recent transit forum. This week, Gaines and other successful opponents of Measures B and C were planning their next move in a bid to create an effective rail system. Local environmentalists pick up the pieces after defeat of transit tax plan By Greg Cahill ...

Spins

Young Gods New CDs from Beck, Bob Dylan By Greg Cahill Beck Mutations DGC/Bong Load I GOTTA ADMIT, I never really got bitten by the Beck bug. Sure, the wry singer-songwriter has produced some of the most interesting pop music of the past decade--"Loser" was clever as all get out, winning mainstream attention for...

Alvin Ailey & Michael Smuin Companies

New Wave Sueños Latinos, coming Nov. 21 and 22 to Spreckels. Michael Amsler Visiting dance companies are bent on flouting conventions By Patrick Sullivan HERE ARE a few scenes from the front lines of dance: A lithe young woman conducts a sizzling solo performance of passion with a chair. A half-dozen agile bodies roll...
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