10 posts tagged “festival”
At Ratio 3 - Takeshi Murata: Escape Spirit VideoSlime. Ratio 3 has a new space, and expanded hours! About the show: "Takeshi Murata's new video furthers his exploration into digital abstraction. For this piece, Murata employs existing film footage of nature and chimpanzees, giving the viewer a connection to recognizable images that continuously pulsate and liquefy. The powerful combination of shifting colors and moving fluid shapes offer an intense experience in which the viewer witnesses the possible devolution of a species. This is the U.S. debut of Escape Spirit VideoSlime."
I woke up yesterday morning with very little desire to leave my house, so I missed out on the Día de los Muertos festival in Fruitvale Village and the Cardboard Tube Fighting League tournament that took place late yesterday afternoon in Justin Herman Plaza, though undoubtedly I would have found said events both healing and cathartic. Carnacki and I raised over $600 for KALX last night, and after being on the air with him I feel sufficiently warmed up to DJ my own fundraiser show this Friday. 9pm to midnight. Have I mentioned it?
In the meantime I am awfully sleep-deprived and down in the dumps today (and eyeing the upcoming time change with pure dread), so if you have any extra good energy lying around that you can spare please send it my way. I feel nothing like a conquering heroine these days and more like some dull creature who barely manages to muddle through.
Brent and I also stopped by this year's iteration of the SF Zine Fest at the Women's Building long enough to admire all of the original work the local zinesters are cranking out, and to pick up the brand new issue of John Marr's Murder Can Be Fun, an update to the classic Death at Disneyland issue with all-new tales of woe. My eye was also caught by the gorgeously letterpressed covers of Rad Dad, Joe Sayers's adorable promo art for the fest, and Eric Davison's beautiful mini-work Perils at Sea. Watch out for that octopus!
And then yesterday I confess I skipped the promised debauchery of the Castro Street Fair in favor of a champagne brunch with my family, where we gave Brent a proper American send-off with heaps and heaps of delicious food. Safe journey, little brother! Beware the spitting cobras, email often, and post lots of pictures!
After an epic brunch at Jimmy Bean's on Saturday, my brother and I BARTed into the city to dip our feet in the LoveFest, which I hadn't attended since the first year when they were still allowed to call it the Love Parade. Brent was suitably reassured that San Francisco dance music culture is still going strong, if suffering a little from the interest of frat boys and Marina chicks, after we watched float after float make its way down Market on the way to the Civic Center. Personally I'm always happy to see the Space Cowboys with their Unimog, bass thumping away.
We took a break from said bass to walk up to St. Boniface Church for their 18th annual Blessing of the Animals in honor of St. Francis. While we were there a small group of companion dogs lined up to be blessed both as a group and individually, each one of them also receiving a sprinkle of holy water. Outside in the courtyard the SF SPCA had cages of kittens hoping for adoption, and Brent and I almost went home with a pair each.
At CCA Wattis Institute for Contemporary Arts - Pioneers. The Wattis is back with a bang this fall, starting off with this show comparing and contrasting pioneering Bay Area artists with the historical pioneers who first settled this area. Artifacts from the Society of California Pioneers are shown next to video by Bruce Conner, Ant Farm, and the Cockettes, and the show also features selected works by Robert Bechtle, Jay DeFeo, Lynn Hershman Leeson, Jess, Dorothea Lange, Diego Rivera, Achilles Rizzoli, and Mario Savio. In other words the show covers an impressive amount of ground in a fairly small space, and it made my heart swell with love for San Francisco at the same time.
Had Brent and I not already had plans to see They Might Be Giants in Santa Cruz Saturday night, we might have instead hunkered down at the Presidio for their Film in the Fog outdoor movie screening featuring Creature from the Black Lagoon. But instead of freezing my ass off I was bouncing up and down at the Rio, laughing and yelling along the lyrics to Mammal. Thank you again for suggesting the evening's activities, Deb!
And then Sunday afternoon we blew off Comedy Day in Golden Gate Park in favor of sheer laziness in the East Bay. Brent also finally got to play Katamari Damacy, and he now fully understands its wonder. Time well spent, with him back to Africa this coming Saturday.
So my brother Brent arrived home safe and sound Friday night, and Saturday morning already my parents jumped him back into life in the U.S. by escorting him up to the San Francisco Ukulele Festival in Yerba Buena Gardens. I took BART into the city myself and met up with them just as Kimo Hussey was really getting going on his set in front of a very appreciative crowd. It was a gorgeous day on the lawn, perfect for reacclimation and listening to traditional and non-traditional uke tunes alike. We stayed through the Carey Camacho's beautiful slack-key guitar set and then wandered off to find some food.
After lunch we jumped on a bus to Ghirardelli Square, where I don't think I'd been since I was about 10 years old, for this year's Chocolate Festival, a benefit for Project Open Hand. We bought a ticket that allowed us 15 different tastings, and proceeded to sample chocolate coconut mooncake, nutty fudge brownies, chocolate truffle cake with whipped cream and raspberry, Irish coffee, Victoria's chocolate almond toffee, chocolate malts, milk chocolate chip cookies, and a white chocolate toffee cookie. Live music from accordian musician Steve Albini (not to be confused with the guy who recorded In Utero) drifted down over the Fountain Plaza as attendees jostled each other trying to get their treats. There were also sundae-eating contests and cupcake-decorating demonstrations going on, solidifying the whole experience as a veritable orgy of sweets. Yeah that's how we do things in America.
At White Walls Gallery - Richard Colman: The Ghost. Colman creates highly stylized, iconic images of humans and other creatures set against hypnotic geometric backgrounds, sometimes accented with gold leaf as if they were actual altarpieces. At the opening Saturday night I was also interested to see one of his figures rendered large as a freestanding sculpture, and a collection of drawings clustered into one corner of the gallery seemed to speak about mortality, reminding me very much of Barry McGee's work.
The body in question: anatomical drawing, Iran, late 16c
At Michael Rosenthal Contemporary Art - An Affair with Art and Artists. This is an absolute gem of a group show in a great new gallery, well worth a stop off in Redwood City on your way up or down 101. I wandered in Friday evening on my way to feed my parents' cat and was warmly greeted by Mr. Rosenthal and his knowledgeable assistant, who pointed out some details of the wonderful work on display that I might have otherwise missed. I think my favorite pieces were Adriane Colburn's cutouts (one pictured above) of systems both biological and man-made, but I also adored Suzanne Husky's fancifully crafted patchwork trees and Inga Dorosz's lunar-like photographs of tinfoil and potatoes. Also be sure to see the deceptively cheerful paintings by Evri Kwong and Fanny Retsek's gorgeously moving graphical representations of deaths in a car bomb or on the slaughterhouse floor. I can't wait to visit future shows in Mr. Rosenthal's space.
Saturday morning I made a quick run out to Golden Gate Park to visit Hal Lutsky's Vintage Paper Fair, taking place in the County Fair Building. There was so much intriguing memorabilia on offer that I almost lost my head several times over, particularly with some old Pan Am destination posters and a dealer who specialized in the View-Master reels I collected myself when I was a youngster. Then there were the boxes and boxes and boxes of vintage postcards, the books of antique erotica being paged through by bearded men, albums of snapshots...I finally settled on a single postcard depicting the area near where the Cliff House is now, near where I used to live in the Bachelorette Pad.
I then took MUNI back to Justin Herman Plaza to meet up with Carrie to check out the options at the Guardsmen's Bay Area Barbecue Festival. I was hoping for some lovely portobellos and other roasted vegetables, or maybe even some grilled fish, but the event was unsurprisingly meat-centric. We poked around some of the booths where whole racks of ribs were being prepared for the BBQ contest later in the afternoon, and then decamped to the Ferry Building and stole two seats at the counter at Out the Door. Their lemongrass tofu: two thumbs up!
Finally I took BART to 24th and Mission and walked up to Precita Park for the Bicycle Music Festival. The music had actually started earlier in the morning at the Alemany Farmer's Market and had been caravanning from stop to stop, a few bands playing at each location. I flopped down in the grass and soaked up the sun while being treated to tunes from Shake Your Peace! and honey.moon.tree, while electricity for the bands' equipment was being generated by specially-rigged bikes pedaled by gracious volunteers. When I started to doze off in earnest I roused myself and trundled back to BART, making a brief stop at Mission Pie and to peer in the windows of Southern Exposure on the way. SoEx had pieces of what I think is Miranda July's project for them spread out all over the gallery. Glee!
Sunday morning I woke up and pointed my car toward Santa Cruz, stopping for brunch at Zachary's before heading out to Roaring Camp Railroads for this year's installment of the Saw Player's Picnic and Music Festival. Yes, there is an entire festival dedicated to the musical saw, and it totally rules. My big discovery for the day was an Oakland group called 1-2-3 Not It!, who play traditional country blues complete with banjo, washboard, and of course musical saw. I'll let you know when they have another show in the area, as just the little taste I got yesterday totally whetted my appetite for more.
Last but definitely not least, Aimee and Sophie and I wrapped up the weekend with a visit to Stitch Lounge in the city for A Family Affair: Tips & Treats with the SF Craft Mafia. Sophie sewed together a lovely bracelet for her grandma (with a little help from Mom) and we all took full advantage of the cupcake decorating station. It was hella inspiring being in the presence of so many people who clearly knew what they were doing with a sewing machine, not to mention needles and thread, and I swiped a class schedule in the hopes that I can squeeze some basic learning into my schedule somewhere.
Friday night after work I took a bus over to the Palace of Fine Arts to attend the first night of the San Francisco International Poetry Festival. After an exuberant introduction by Mr. Gavin Newsom himself, former SF poet laureate Janice Mirikitani introduced 12 poets to the audience: Carmen Yanez (Chile/Spain), Bei Dao (China), Nicole Cage-Florentiny (Martinique), Lawrence Ferlinghetti (U.S.A.), Anna Lombardo (Italy), Sabah M. Jasim (Iraq; unable to obtain a visa to attend, his poetry was read by his translator), Sinan Gudzevic (Serbia/Croatia), Sarah Menefee (U.S.A.), Sotirios Pastakas (Greece), devorah major (U.S.A.), Francis Combes (France), and Marc Bamuthi Joseph (U.S.A.). Each poet read their work in the language in which it had originally been written, with English translations displayed on the screen behind them. The state of my own linguistic skills allowed me to follow along fairly easily in any of the Romance languages, but oh boy my Greek is almost completely gone. Ferlinghetti's poetry affected me the most strongly, and I literally had tears running down my cheeks almost just at the sound of his voice. major's presentation was similarly thrilling, offering the audience a gift of her love to get us through these tough times. But my big discovery for the evening was Gudzevic, whose couplets masterfully trod the ground between tradition and modern thought, and who displayed a keen grasp of the complexities of life along with a wicked sense of humor.
"You're not the only one that had an unhappy childhood, there are millions like you, and, in my eyes, they are the tough ones, not you!"
Yesterday was a little bit about the depravity. First I scurried through Dore Alley where the Up Your Alley Fair was in full swing, and kicked myself for not having worn my 20-hole Docs so that I could have gotten them taken care of at the bootblacking booth manned by the fine Pets Are Wonderful Support volunteers. From there it a short walk to the Mission where there was a crepe at Ti Couz (smoked salmon, spinach, capers, horseradish creme fraiche) and then a cone at the Bi-Rite Creamery (a scoop of salted caramel, a scoop of peanut butter with fleur de sel nuggets). I feel like I need absolution from a Sister of Perpetual Indulgence.
At SFMOMA - Anselm Kiefer: Heaven and Earth. I know I keep harping on this, but what an infinitely better use of the museum's fourth floor gallery space than the recently departed Matthew Barney nonsense. This exhibition includes work spanning the breadth of Kiefer's career as a painter and sculptor, including paintings done as recently as last year. Like Joseph Beuys before him, Kiefer's work includes symbolic materials such as clay, ash, and (most strikingly) lead. Kiefer says he likes to work with lead because it is neither light nor dark, but has its own unique luster somewhere in between. Man I love that. I was also struck by how he creates texture on his canvases, using paint to portray a scorched field or plowed earth. I like the idea of painting as burning, a holy fire. And always there is the striving toward heaven, represented by his wings and stars or even just how far you have to crane your neck to see to the tops of his paintings, at the same time that he conveys the human despair and melancholy of being completely bound by earth. It left me breathless.
- press images
- Kiefer's 'Heaven': "Anselm Kiefer: Heaven and Earth" at SFMOMA makes the museum look prescient in its acquisition of "Isis and Osiris."
At Lisa Dent - Matthew Cusick. Maps maps maps. Road maps incorporated into paintings of freeway interchanges. Country maps painstakingly cut out of atlases along the edges of their borders and then glued and pinned into new shapes, new Pangaeas, some spanning entire walls in the gallery. Love maps.
from Cody's:
"Bright Eyes. Death Cab for Cutie. The Donnas. Grandaddy. Modest Mouse. Rock photographer Peter Ellenby has captured candid moments both on stage and off of some of today's most innovative and independent performers. Once found only on college radio and small clubs, the indie rock scene has exploded from the underground phenomenon its name suggests to a major rock genre with arena concerts and major label successes. For over a decade, Ellenby has documented the bands and musicians that make up this radical evolution, and the result is Every Day Is Saturday, a visual tribute to a vital music scene. An impromptu shooter with a fan's eye, Ellenby employs the same sort of freewheeling, often chaotic techniques -using everything from plastic toy cameras to fisheye lenses- as the musicians themselves. Bursting with passion and energy, the 100+ portraits of live performances offer readers a you-are-there, front row seat to the artists that have changed the face of independent music. As a bonus, Every Day Is Saturday includes a 21-track CD featuring music by Death Cab for Cutie, Film School, Rogue Wave, American Music Club, The Court & Spark, Beulah, The Wedding Present, and many other bands. Peter Ellenby has been taking photographs almost his entire life. He lives in San Francisco and has been shooting the indie music scene since 1994. His photographs have been used by bands, labels and publications around the globe."
Ellenby was at Cody's Stockton last night to show off some of his awesome photography and tell the stories behind a few of his favorite shots. I can't tell you how many of my favorite musicians he's taken pictures of, in all of my favorite SF venues. And then Mike Drake and Bob Reed of Oranger played a few songs acoustic-like, including the one the book is named after, while Ellenby's wife, cradling new daughter Ruby, jokingly tossed dollars into their open guitar cases.
Last but definitely not least last night I swung by Garfield Park to see the Dia de los Muertos altars. I missed the procession with all of my other running around, but there were still plenty of beautiful tributes to life and death to see. Candles and skeleton face paint and marigolds. Heaven and earth, again.
Tonight: Marjane Satrapi at the Booksmith, and Mouse on Mars at the Independent.
I'm DJing tomorrow!
Saturday morning:
Matokie
6-9am PST, Saturday November 4
KALX Berkeley 90.7fm
The 2006 KALX fundraiser was a success...we raised $57,385. If you donated, you totally rule! If you didn't and you want to, you still can! Late pledges can be sent via postal mail. Now enough with the begging, back to the rocking.
What's at stake:
Renee Wilson, an actress and singer from New Orleans’ Ninth Ward, makes a personal connection between Katrina and the importance of voting on Tuesday.
Before I was asked to DJ last night I was planning to head over to the San Francisco Art Institute for the Global Lens Film Festival. Featuring films from around the world, last night's screening was Thirst (Atash), about a Palestinian family and the need for water. I'm bummed I missed it, but I'm hoping to catch another film or two in the series...after I get back from Chicago...after the Ani concert...after Project Runway...hrm.
So yeah I'm unplugging the computer and heading out to Chicago for a few days, to fill my head (and my tummy!) with good things before the yawning pit of seasonal depression I am already teetering at the edge of swallows me up whole for the next six months. I'm staying in Wicker Park, the center of what Carrie has referred to as Chicago's cute boy factory, so who knows.
In case you haven't seen it yet...Olbermann on 9/11:
MSNBC's Keith Olbermann: Who has left this hole in the ground? We have not forgotten, Mr. President. You have. May this country forgive you.
At the Luggage Store Gallery - the group show The Amber Room. Four Chinese and Asian-American artists have created impressive sculptures and installations commissioned by the gallery especially for this show. Their inspiration is the Amber Room, a chamber made of carved tree resin that resided in St. Petersburg until the Germans invaded in 1941, after which it vanished without a trace. On opening night Friday night it was fun to clamber through Wang Wei's walkway and pavilion elegantly pieced together out of construction scaffolding parts that took up the majority of the gallery space, while Won Ju Lim's plexiglass piece Orange Extension Cord glowed serenely in a separate room.
At Michelle O'Connor Gallery - the group show Home Ec. As the name implies, the artists deal with stereotypes around domestic activities such as cooking, sewing, and home decorating. Yes traditionally women's work, and I know some of you have already been making an art form out of them for years and years, but these are also activities that have enjoyed something of a popular and hipster revival in recent times, even as evidenced by the existence of this show. I loved how one artist had sewn together a pile of quilts and afghans, transforming a corner of the gallery into a cozy nook where opening-night gallery-goers Friday night had kicked off their shoes and were playing card games in small groups. I did not join them, I was feeling too down, maybe another time.
Friday night, Bottom of the Hill:
Ruins
Acid Mothers Temple
This was actually the Japanese New Music Festival, featuring Tsuyama Atsushi, Kawabata Makoto, and Yoshida Tatsuya arranging themselves into seven different "battle formations" over the course of the evening. The result was nothing short of epic. Part psych rock noodlefest, part thunder god noise extravaganza, part goofy experiment, the evening yielded spectacles such as toothbrushes and scissors being used to create beats, Led Zeppelin covered Tuvan-throat-singing style, and Tatsuya doing a drum and sampled-bass thing as the Ruins Alone. They closed with a drawn-out Acid Mothers Temple set, and then all fell to floor at the end of it, quite possibly out of sheer exhaustion. I wouldn't have missed it for the world.
Saturday morning I rose early and made my way to Golden Gate Park for the eighth annual Power to the Peaceful festival. The moment I descended into Speedway Meadow I was greeted with the site of 1000 people in warrior pose, being led through yoga stretches in front of the main stage, and I knew I was in the right place. I'm sure some people go to the festival to spend the day lying stoned in a field, but the sheer number of organizations with booths set up who are doing good work was very heartening. I did some yoga, I enjoyed some funky beats, I admired the giant inflatable buffalo.
Next stop was the SF Zine Fest over at CELLspace. Now that APE has turned into an unwelcoming place for me the Zine Fest is much more my style, with tables overflowing with the bounty of the DIY way of life, including comics, zines, screenprints, and cute little fuzzy stuffed an'mals. I only regret that I'm at the ass-end of my paycheck or I would have dropped more cash on awesome stuff.
At the African American Art and Culture Complex - Stephanie Anne Johnson: Art, Theatre, Legacy, and Testimony. Johnson has been a visual artist for almost as long as she's been a lighting designer for local, national, and international theatre. This retrospective of her art as part of the AfroSolo festival is quite powerful, and I was especially moved by her recreation in Katrina debris of Gericault's Raft of the Medusa. Johnson is convinced there is light at the end of the tunnel, and as long as artists like her with a social conscience continue to work I won't lose hope completely.
Saturday night, Bottom of the Hill:
Citizens Here & Abroad
Thee More Shallows
I've been meaning to see both of these bands live for ages, especially as they're local guys, and they did not disappoint. Thee More Shallows played a great moody set and then closed with an angsty cover of Al Green's I Can't Next To You. Co-headliners Citizens Here & Abroad celebrated the upcoming release of their new album by playing a wealth of their new material, and I just love the alternating male/female lead vocals thing they have going on. I've heard them described as shoegazery, but I honestly found them to be more Sleater-Kinney than My Bloody Valentine.
I'm DJing tonight!
Monday night/Tuesday morning:
Matokie
1-3:30am PST, Tuesday September 12
KALX Berkeley 90.7fm
We Will Not Be Silenced:
A rousing speech about Iraq set to a techno beat and snappy Flash animation. As Abraham Lincoln said, "To stand in silence when they should be protesting makes cowards out of men."
Keep death off the roads. Cover of comic produced by National Automobile Dealers, USA, 1948
Friday night, GAMH:
Jesse DeNatale
Paula Frazer
Tom Heyman
I am not the first one to notice that Jesse DeNatale sounds like the love child of Bob Dylan, Greg Brown, and Tom Waits. I would throw Joe Henry into that mix as well. And then Loretta Lynch did backup singing for him at the show Friday night. And Jonathan Richman joined him onstage to play guitar on a few songs. And Tom Heyman contributed pedal steel. And Nino Moschella worked on his most recent album. In other words, Mr. DeNatale rules.
In case you missed it on flickr, I bobbed my hair this weekend. Or, to be more correct, my fabulous stylist Tito bobbed my hair this weekend. He calls it Express-Yourself-Era Madonna. I prefer to think of it as Audrey Horne. Visualize with pencil skirt and heels. I love it.
At Somarts - Encuentros. This is showing in collaboration with the De Young's "Chicano Visions" exhibition, and similar shows are also up at the Mission Cultural Center, the Galeria de la Raza, and the Mexican Museum. All of the receptions are going to be held this Friday evening, with transport to shuttle you amongst them.
Saturday night, Bottom of the Hill:
Lilys
Human Television
LSD and the Search for God
S and I actually missed LSD because we were over at the Hemlock listening to Grimble Grumble create an awe-inspiring wall of sound, but arrived at BOTH in time to hear Human Television and the Lilys do their thing. Beautiful night too.
from City Lights:
LaborFest was established in 1994 to institutionalize the history and culture of working people in an annual labor cultural, film and arts festival. It begins every July 5th, which is the anniversary of the 1934 “Bloody Thursday” event. On that day, two workers Howard Sperry and Nick Bordoise were shot and killed in San Francisco. They were supporting the longshoremen and maritime workers strike. This incident brought about the San Francisco General Strike which shut down the entire city and led to hundreds of thousands of workers joining the trade union movement. The organizing committee of LaborFest is composed of unionists and unorganized workers, cultural workers and supporters of labor education and history. Laborfest has now become a worldwide tradition.There are LaborFests in Tokyo and Osaka, Japan, every December. LaborFests have also taken place in Buenos Aires, Argentina and El Alto, Bolivia. In April of this year, the first LaborFest in Capetown, South Africa took place. In May, there were LaborFests in Istanbul and Ankara, Turkey. See LaborFest website for full calender of events.
The Bush Pilot:
This interview from a German TV show explains a lot.
Quiet Spot for Lunch, Adelaide Hills Chateau Gardenique B&B
