Preview

Live Shots: K-Pop’s Night Out, Ashley Monroe, and more at SXSW, Day 1

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Photos and words by Bowerbird Photography

Fans made scrawling lines all through Austin, Texas, waiting to gain access to countless shows, as the SXSW 2013 music festival kicked off on Tuesday night.

Some eager devotees sat cross-legged, tolerating the intense Texas sun since 9am according to a chatty security guard, for the K-Pop Night Out showcase. In the SXSW hierarchy, badges trump wristbands, leaving hardcore fans without tags to load up on patience, scour listings for shows with free access, and pray capacity doesn’t max.

The Geeks, a punk band from Seoul, kicked off the K-Pop lineup — and their music was loud and fast. The lyrics, although mostly screamed in English, were unintelligible. It was all you could want from a punk act. The lead singer’s face-ripping seizures and crotch-grabbing agonies made the perfect counterpoint to his nice boy, real life personality. (He wore cute red Keds and white socks, after all.)

Over at the Empire Control Room, rising star, Ashley Monroe, brought a polished sound and mainstream appeal to SXSW, after appearing on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno Monday night.  We expect to hear her a lot more at weddings, as couples make goo-goo eyes during their first dance.

For those who want to steer clear of the madness, it’s getting real in the Whole Foods parking lot with free preview concerts, clean bathrooms, and healthy samples. Buggaboo, a laid-back, broad strumming, stomp-along Austin band stopped shopping carts in their tracks.

Another act, Mike Love (not to be confused with the Beach Boys singer) came from Hawaii, bringing hippy goodness with reggae flair that paired well with the imported bananas we shared. He whipped out the beatbox, singing along to the loops he laid with lyrics that favored staccato pronunciation of multisyllabic words like “positivity” and “beautiful,” to embrace their full, upbeat, rhythmic potential.

In addition to the music, people watching at SXSW provided its own entertainment. Sitting on the curb on Tuesday’s balmy night, and chatting with eager travelers from Mexico to Australia, felt good enough when standing in another line proved too much.

Who am I?

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arts@sfbg.com

DANCE CounterPULSE always makes a point of thanking its volunteers. One can only hope that they’ll turn up en masse to help clean up after Faye Driscoll and Jesse Zaritt step off the stage this coming weekend. Their You’re Me is not exactly what might be called a clean show. Still, if the work-in-progress preview, presented at the end of their residency at the Headlands Center for the Arts almost two years ago, is any indication, the mess is more than worth it. After all, most of us will recognize a mess when we see it.

The Los Angeles-born Driscoll lived in San Francisco from 2003 to 2005. She put in a shift at the ODC/Pilot Program — for on-the-verge choreographers — even though dance was not her primary focus at the time. As she explained in a recent phone conversation from her home in Brooklyn, in San Francisco, “I really was inspired by the music and art scene, hanging out with people who were putting band together that were kind of art bands.” At the time, she was in recovery mode from two years of performing and touring with Doug Varone and Dancers. Apparently it had not been all that happy a match — too much structure, too much energy from the top down.

So San Francisco — where the mantra is “you can do anything you want,” and where you go “to find yourself” — proved to be liberating experience for her, particularly because she had been so “serious and disciplined about dance” since her childhood.

In some ways Driscoll is still trying to find herself. On the most visible level You’re Me is a piece about a relationship — after all, it is performed by a man and a woman. But it’s also a work looking at identity: the one you claim for yourself, that one you are working toward, or the one that is imposed on you by the outside world. For many people that is unstable territory that tends to slide away from under your feet.

Partly because she “had a lot going on in my home that was kind of crazy,” and because she remembered people reflecting an identity back to her that was quite different than the one she experienced herself, Driscoll was drawn to dance early on. “Dance had the structure that allowed me to express what I am in the world,” she says. “It was the place where I could go and practice my movements and make myself open to other people’s bodies.”

You’re Me is inspired by the in-between spaces Driscoll observes in non-verbal human communication, as well as by fixed historic representations she and Zaritt collected in the visual arts, from Renaissance paintings to contemporary magazines. In the process they became fascinated by how ideas of what is masculine and feminine have changed over time. Finding much that resonated but also created dissonance within themselves, the experience fed into their appetites for trying out other identities.

To do that choreographically, in one section of the five-part 80-minute duet, the two performers also draw on one of the earliest ways kids try to tell us something about who they are. A little girl who wobbles around in her mother’s heels is considered cute. A little boy who prefers dresses to pants rings alarm bells. Role-playing, fantasy games, make-believe, dress-up —whether in a playgroup or the theater — are serious business. They present way of talking about being or becoming in the world. But they are also a lot of fun.

Driscoll describes her working process as taking “things and blowing them up, creating them to excess and putting them into rhythmic structure and try to pull them apart and grapple with them.” Here, in addition, to the physically demanding movement interactions, the dancers have to don, strip off, and exchange parts of props and costumes, often at dizzying speed. They rehearsed a lot, she says, and they have a prop master who makes sure that the final mess is nicely controlled.

Pulling You’re Me together, however, was a different challenge. Like many artists, Driscoll is homeless, scurrying around from one studio to another. “I could never rehearse with all that stuff I had to lug around.” That’s why the residency at Headlands became such a respite: they gave her a closet. *

YOU’RE ME

Thu/7-Sun/10, 8pm, $20-$30

CounterPULSE

1310 Mission, SF

www.counterpulse.org

 

Travels well

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caitlin@sfbg.com

STREET SEEN I was going to write this column about what it was like to be art star Kehinde Wiley’s model. It was supposed to be an eloquent reflection on musedom, and I’d locked down a post-performance chat with Ethiopian Israeli rapper Kalkidan, who stars in several of Wiley’s portraits in the current show at the Contemporary Jewish Museum.

But you know what, Tel Aviv to San Francisco is a long flight and I’ll wager that if you followed up the same journey with two hip-hop sets in front of the opening night Contemporary Jewish Museum hoi polloi — whose hosted-bar pink cocktails gave birth to some very art-world dance moves — you would wind up much the same way Kalkidan did for our chat. Call it jet lag. Our interview veered towards monosyllabic, though I did manage to gather he’d seen the Wiley paintings in which he stars two times before, when the exhibition toured LA and New York. And that he’s an Aquarius.

“Leviathan Zodiac”

… Leaving me to my own devices with you, dear reader. Well, not entirely. I did have a chance to ask Wiley about the direction he gives to his “painfully young and present models,” as he calls them, mere minutes after his flight touched down from New York. (Right before another journalist saw fit to ask him about Frank Ocean? Has a moratorium been decreed on talking to black queers, or anyone even tangentially related to hip-hop, about anything else?)

Insight into Wiley’s models seems central to his gorgeous “World Stage” series, for which he poses young men of color in classic historical poses, with ornate backgrounds and rarified postures mimicking 18th and 19th European portraiture, among other influences. The conceit started when the San Francisco Art Institute grad moved to New York, and he’s painted other chapters of “World Stage” starring men in India, Nigeria, Brazil, China, and elsewhere.

Kalkidan on “World Stage: Israel” opening night at the Contemporary Jewish Museum. Photo by David Schnur

Coupled with his subjects’ vivid streetwear, which Wiley and his assistants (the artist is well-known for employing staff that contribute the pieces’ background, if not more) render faithfully, and region-specific background motif, the series is a gorgeous homage to modern brown and black manhood, with a swagger that is decidedly hip-hop.

“There is an aspect of black American creative culture that has become globalized. Every country finds their own response to this evolving reality,” reads a Wiley quote that greets visitors to the CJM exhibit. How has a culture that’s made its way everywhere still so vilified?

Wiley allowed to our group of arthounds at the preview that he does tend to capture men who are gorgeous — you won’t miss the fact once surrounded by his canvas gods — but that his choice has less to do with his own personal preferences. “You can’t know who’s zooming who,” he said. “Nor is it a particular interest of mine.” I overheard curator Karen Tsujimoto tell another reporter that she didn’t believe sexuality played a role in his work.

I guess I buy that. Wiley said that painting beautiful men is about highlighting factors rarely pulled out to the front in the art world. “Male beauty seems to be the elephant in the room when it comes to the history of painting,” he reflected.

“The World Stage: Israel” Through May 27. Contemporary Jewish Museum, 736 Mission, SF. www.thecjm.org

BOYCHILD DOES BIG APPLE

I’d be wrong if I didn’t laserpoint out that drag (is that term adequate still?) babe boychild for bringing genderphucked Bay Area fierce to the runway for the Hood By Air-New York Fashion Week collection named, yeah, “boychild.” You know you’re the buzz when you’re overshadowing rapper A$AP Rocky, who also walked in the show. The look? Wetsuits and sportswear with glittering detail: canary yellow do-rags with blonde extensions, pearl-headphone earrings, French manicure. Strong, kinda freaky, hella pretty. Just like our child.

My campy Valentine

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FILM Love is the drug, or so sang somebody once. Yet violent conflict has always been a more predominatingly addicting factor in movies — which is why it seems both natural and despairing that the Vortex Room‘s “For Your Vortex Only” celebration of “Love…Vortex Style” (please guys, only one title per series), every Thursday in February, features eight vintage movies in which “love” is less a matter of romantic fulfillment than a titular selling point.

Which is not to say the Vortex programmers have not ranged far and extra wide to find 16mm prints (when available) of the most obscure and eccentric among odes to St. Valentine, though several weren’t remotely obscure at the time. That would include the kick-off double bill, which starts off with 1979’s Love at First Bite — a post-Young Frankenstein knockoff farce whose selling point was aging Old Hollywood himbo George Hamilton as a Count Dracula exported via coffin-encased necessity to disco-era Manhattan. He’s funny; Richard Benjamin as Jewish-shrink Van Helsing is funnier. Not so much: the tiresome racial stereotypes or clutter of TV sitcom faces.

That movie was a sleeper hit. A shameful semi-success, by contrast, was its Vortex co-feature The Love Machine (1971) — second adaptation of a Jacqueline Susann bestseller after 1967 camp classic Valley of the Dolls, and by far the best. Of course it’s still a glossy, ridiculous swamp of lurid melodrama and degraded “name” actors. John Phillip Law (1968’s Barbarella and Skidoo) probably locked himself out of the mainstream stardom by playing Susann’s soulless, indiscriminately sexually satisfying TV-executive climber. He’s actually very good — more than one can say for the fellow thespians (notably Dyan Cannon, Robert Ryan, Jackie Cooper, and David Hemmings as a particularly mean homosexual caricature) in what was only director Jack Haley Jr.’s second stab at narrative directing before he turned exclusively to celebrating his son-of-Tin-Man Old Hollywood heritage via documentaries like 1974’s That’s Entertainment!

Actual Valentine’s Day programming at the Vortex is certifiably insane: 1935’s Mad Love has Peter Lorre as a mad scientist in the daddy of all severed-transplanted-hands-of-a-murderer thrillers; while 1987’s Love is a Dog From Hell, a.k.a. Crazy Love, channels the Skid Row poetics of Charles Bukowski into a dazzling Belgian demonstration of art house bravado. It’s fatiguingly great.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eTd3B0NXf44

The last two Vortex Thursdays in February wade into genuinely forgotten cinematic chapters. Least (forgotten, but also worthy) among them is The Love-Ins, an inadvertently hilarious 1967 highlight in hippiesploitation with Peyton Place regular Susan Oliver and future Hawaii Five-O star James MacArthur as vulnerable university students roped into the dangerous radicalism of a Timothy Leary-like prof (Richard Todd). When she’s dosed on acid, the ensuing polite Alice in Wonderland “freak-out” ballet is perhaps Hollywood’s dumbest counterculture indictment ever.

Yea more obscure are this amorous series’ final selections. The Love War (1970) is a TV movie sci-fi with Lloyd Bridges and Angie Dickinson as combatants on an interplanetary-games war using Earth as its playing field. It’s gimmicky but stupid alongside the next year’s Quest for Love, a clever parallel-time fantasy perhaps beyond the capabilities of director Ralph Thomas (1974’s It’s Not the Size That Counts) and star Joan Collins (whose earnest efforts suggest she never had a naturalistic acting moment in her life).

Unavailable for preview was that Quest‘s Vortex co-feature Love Slaves of the Amazon, a 1957 Universal International exploitation film of which surely more should be known, if only to preserve our fragile balance between the sexes against so much perverted input. Including, of course, camp retrospectives like the Vortex’s. *

“FOR YOUR VORTEX ONLY: THURSDAY FILM CULT PRESENTS LOVE … VORTEX STYLE”

Thu/7, Feb 14, 21, and 28, 9 and 11pm, $10

Vortex Room

1082 Howard, SF

Facebook: The Vortex Room

 

Rep Clock

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Schedules are for Wed/30-Tue/5 except where noted. Director and year are given when available. Double and triple features marked with a •. All times pm unless otherwise specified.

BAY MODEL 2100 Bridgeway, Sausalito; www.tiburonfilmfestival.com. Free. "Tiburon Film Society:" Banganà (Sincich, 2012), Tue, 6.

CASTRO 429 Castro, SF; (415) 621-6120, www.castrotheatre.com. $8.50-11. Noir City: The 11th Annual San Francisco Film Noir Festival: •The Sniper (Dmytryk, 1952), Wed, 1:30, 7, and Experiment in Terror (Edwards, 1962), Wed, 3:30, 9; •The Other Woman (Haas, 1954), Thu, 7:30, and The Come-On (Birdwell, 1956), Thu, 9:15; •Man in the Dark (Landers, 1953), Fri, 7:30, and Inferno (Ward Baker, 1953), Fri, 9; •Street of Chance (Hively, 1942), Sat, 1, 6; The Chase (Ripley, 1946), Sat, 2:35, 7:30; and The Window (Tetzlaff, 1949), Sat, 4:20, 9:15; •Smooth as Silk (Barton, 1946), Sun, 12:30; Mary Ryan, Detective (Berlin, 1949), Sun, 1:50; Strange Impersonation (Mann, 1946), Sun, 3:20; and Fly By Night (Siodmak, 1942), Sun, 4:45; •Night Editor (Levin, 1946), Sun, 7:30, and High Tide (Reinhardt, 1947), Sun, 9. More info at www.noircity.com; advance tickets ($10-15) at www.brownpapertickets.com.

CHRISTOPHER B. SMITH RAFAEL FILM CENTER 1118 Fourth St, San Rafael; (415) 454-1222, www.cafilm.org. $6.75-$10.25. Amour (Haneke, 2012), call for dates and times. Quartet (Hoffman, 2012), call for dates and times. The Rabbi’s Cat (Sfar and Delesvaux, 2011), call for dates and times. Sparrows (Beaudine, 1926), Thu, 7. With live piano accompaniment and introduction by Mary Pickford expert Christel Schmidt. This event, $12. "World Ballet on the Big Screen:" "An Evening With Sol León and Paul Lightfoot from the Netherlands Dance Theater," Sun and Tue, 6:30. This event, $15.

CLAY 2261 Fillmore, SF; www.landmarktheatres.com. $9-10. "Midnight Movies:" Night of the Living Dead (Romero, 1968), Sat, midnight. With host Miss Misery.

MECHANICS’ INSTITUTE 57 Post, SF; (415) 393-0100, milibrary.org/events. $10 (reservations required as seating is limited). "CinemaLit Film Series: Hollywood Dames: In the Name of Love:" Letter from an Unknown Woman (Ophüls, 1948), Fri, 6.

NEW PARKWAY 474 24th St, Oakl; www.thenewparkway.com. Free. "Documentary Film Series:" The Loving Story (Buirski, 2011), Tue, 7.

PACIFIC FILM ARCHIVE 2575 Bancroft, Berk; (510) 642-5249, bampfa.berkeley.edu. $5.50-9.50. "Film 50: History of Cinema: The Cinematic City:" Metropolis (Lang, 1926), Wed, 3:10. With lecture by Marilyn Fabe; advance tickets (special pricing: $5.50-$11.50) recommended as programs often sell out. "Alfred Hitchcock: The Shape of Suspense:" North by Northwest (1959), Wed, 7; Suspicion (1941), Fri, 9. "Campus Connections: Playwright-Director Stan Lai:" The Peach Blossom Land (1992), Thu, 7. "The Sounds of Silence:" Silence (Collins, 2012), Fri, 7; "A Kind of Hush: Experimental Works," Sun, 5. "Screenagers: 15th Annual Bay Area High School Film and Video Festival," Sat, 3. "On Location in Silent Cinema:" Études sur Paris (Sauvage, 1928), Sat, 6. "African Film Festival 2013:" How to Steal 2 Million (Vundla, 2011), Sat, 8:20; Our Beloved Sudan (Elsanhouri, 2011), Sun, 2:30; Broken Stones (Felin, 2012), Tue, 7.

ROXIE 3117 and 3125 16th St, SF; (415) 863-1087, www.roxie.com. $6.50-11. Beware of Mr. Baker (Bulger, 2012), Wed-Thu, 7, 9. Yes, We’re Open (Wong, 2012), Wed, 7:15. First Generation (Fenderson and Fenderson, 2011), Thu, 7. Presented by ScholarMatch with a post-screening discussion moderated by Dave Eggers. Sound City (Grohl, 2012), Jan 31-Feb 6, call for times. Dorothy Vernon of Haddon Hall (Neilan, 1924), Fri, 7:15. With introduction by Mary Pickford expert Christel Schmidt. "SF Sketchfest:" The Bitter Buddha (Feinartz, 2012), Sat, 1, with subject Eddie Pepitone in person, Sat, 1; "The Benson Movie Interruption:" The Notebook (Cassavetes, 2004), Sat, 4:20; "On Cinema with Tim Heidecker and Gregg Turkington:" Beyond the Doors (Buchanan, 1984), Sat, 7; "Olde English: The Exquisite Corpse Project with Colin Mahan in ‘Preview: The Movie!’," Sat, 10; American Splendor (Springer Berman and Pulcini, 2003), Tue, 9. More info and advance tickets (these events, $15-20) at www.sfsketchfest.com. "Superbowl XLVII: Men in Tights," Sun, 3. Superbowl viewing party; $10 donation to benefit SF IndieFest and the Roxie. "A Tribute to Arch Hall, Jr:" The Choppers (Jason, 1961), Mon, 6:30; The Sadist (Landis, 1963), Mon, 8; Wild Guitar (Steckler, 1962), Mon, 9:45. Hosted by Johnny Legend.

SUNDANCE KABUKI 1881 Post, SF; www.sundancecinemas.com. $15. "Sundance Film Festival USA:" In a World… (Bell, 2012), Thu, 7:15. With director Lake Bell in person.

YERBA BUENA CENTER FOR THE ARTS 701 Mission, SF; www.ybca.org. $8-10. "The Wooster Group On Screen:" Rumstick Road (1977), Sun, 2.

No brand

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caitlin@sfbg.com

STREET SEEN To the casual observer, it may have appeared as if I had taken a painful, rainy early morning Muni ride into SoMa for the sole purpose of eating plastic-wrapped Japanese pancakes filled with red bean paste in a chain store. But to adherents of the Muji phenomenon, I was actually witnessing the birth of cross-Pacific retail revolution.

“The minimalism of Muji fits San Francisco perfectly with what the city is trying to do with conservation,” said store manager Eric Kobuchi, who was standing with the cash registers behind of him, and the sleepy-eyed attendees of the November 30th press preview and reception in front of him. His company was to open its first West Coast location (540 Ninth St., SF. www.muji.us) in an hour-and-a-half.

Among minimalism aficionados, this brand is paramount. Muji was born in 1980, originally as a line of 40 house and food items that were sold in Seiyu supermarkets. The name itself means “no label, quality goods.” The items were cheap, but relatively high quality. These savings were possible, said the company, by simplifying packaging and production, and utilizing offbeat materials, like the parts of the fish near the head and tail for its canned fish.

Muji fans kindled to the line’s recycled, plain packaging (the company has courted the “sustainable” label for decades). Being a Muji consumer is an identity unto itself, at least according to the brands’s brilliant ad campaigns. From a 256-page coffee table book of such endeavors presented to me at the preview: “Muji tries to attract not the customer who says ‘This is what I want,’ but rather the one who says, rationally, ‘this will do.'”

Zen. Today, Muji’s selection is an Ikea-Gap mélange. The San Francisco location, says Azami, has a similar, but smaller product selection (minus the food — tight regulations here make importing comestibles complicated), and the same layout and presentation as its Japanese stores. I don’t doubt that little changes have been made to the Muji formula for its West Coast audience — during the press preview, display prices for some of the stock were still only visible in yen.

Muji is but one simple, made-from-recycled-material package in a shopping bag full of newish Japanese brands to hit the Bay Area. Daiso, in my eyes the epitome of dollar (or rather 100 yen, roughly $1.50) store excellence, has been plying lunch boxes, fake eyelashes, party wigs, and stationary on the West Coast since 2005. It has several stores from SF to Milpitas (SF locations at 570 Market and 22 Japantown Peace Plaza).

We have homegrown Japanese retailers as well. Lounging in a bright office lined with shelves of Japanese comics, Seiji Horibuchi explained to me how he came to open retail complex New People (1746 Post, SF. www.newpeopleworld.com) in the heart of San Francisco’s Japantown.

Dressed in head-to-toe Sou Sou, a neo-traditional line of Japanese worker comfortwear whose signature item is its brightly patterned split-toe shoes, Horibuchi says he moved to the city in 1975, and started his anime-manga publishing house Viz Media in his adopted city in 1986. Viz Pictures, a distribution company for Japanese films followed, and then New People was born, originally as a movie theater at which to play Viz titles.

But the project grew, and by its opening in 2009, the J-pop mall included a gift shop, art gallery, and entire floor of Japanese fashion brands like Sou Sou and the babydoll goth Lolita brand Baby, the Stars Shine Bright.

New People is a bit different than the new megachains in town, however. Even the casual visitor can tell Horibuchi’s inventory couldn’t have come from any other country — unlike a lot of Muji’s stock, comprised of simply-universal products, most of New People’s vinyl dolls, high design flatware, and frilly babydoll bonnets could really have only come from Japan.

But Horibuchi understands why brands like Muji choose San Francisco for their debut on this side of the country. “We’re more open to foreign culture,” he says. “San Francisco is very flexible, livable.”

Plus, Asian Americans make up nearly 36 percent of the city’s population — and that ratio has grown in recent years. Companies know that many residents are already familiar with their brand, Horibuchi says. “I’m sure they’ve done enough marketing research.”

A company that has certainly done its marketing research is Uniqlo, which opened a popup shop (117 Post, SF) this summer, then a full-size West Coast flagship store (111 Powell, SF) in Union Square in October. In its opening weeks, the latter attracted 100-plus-person lines of shoppers with cheaply-priced rainbows of colored denim and ultralight down jackets.

In a calm moment on a busy holiday shopping day, I got a chance to talk with Uniqlo’s John “Jack” Zech, a “superstar store manager” according to a publicist that sat with us while we talked.

The three of us had a view of Uniqlo’s specially-designed-for-SF “magic mirror” (put on a down jacket, press a button, and the hue of your garment in the reflection shifts through the line’s different colors), its staircase of melting rainbow tones, and slowly rotating armies of mannequins clad in ski-ready fashions, ensconced in glass cases.

Zech worked in Uniqlo’s Japanese locations for months before the SF stores opened, and he says the company’s goal is to bring the Japanese concept of supreme customer service, irrashai mase, to the rest of the world.

When you walk into Uniqlo, a person in a happi day kimono greets you warmly. But other than that, I couldn’t see much of a difference between the cheery sales staff there versus that of any of the other chain stores in the neighborhood.

You won’t find happi on sale at Uniqlo. Instead, its affordably-priced cashmere, “Heat Tech” clothing — that I promise you, actually tingles and heats your skin up — and $9.90 packable raincoats (the only clothing item made specifically for the SF store) dominate the sales floor.

In 2010, the company’s official language switched to English. All managerial staff worldwide is required to speak it. “We found that people basically need the same things in Japan, France, London, here,” chirps Kech. “[CEO] Tadashi Yanai thinks we can improve the world by being a global company.”

Which snapped me out of the reverie I’d been lulled into by banks of $29.90 beige boot-cuts. Are Uniqlo and Muji really all that different than the globalized brands from the United States? Walmart, after all, has store greeters.

“If the product is good, it will sell,” regardless of geography, Horibuchi told me. These big brands have real cute stuff (admittedly, I would like to draw Santa’s attention to Muji’s $38 cardboard MP3 speakers.) But you’re not being worldly by shopping at them, though you are being globalized.

 

YEAR IN MUSIC 2012: Beach squelch shimmy

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arts@sfbg.com

YEAR IN MUSIC Imagine a frustrated ghost floating above his own funeral. He might hear someone getting the eulogy wrong or even see an unwanted guest. One of the benefits of having your band come to an end rather than your own demise is living to react to retrospectives of your creative output and impact. But as I write this, Uzi Rash isn’t quite dead yet. In fact, it has one last breath of doing what it does best — live performance.

 

PRACTICE MAKES PERFECT?

It was the type of weather where you only sometimes need a coat and had been raining on and off. Wearing too many layers, I found the address where the band said it’d be practicing. The garage was wide open and I got a friendly wave to come in.

The group’s final incarnation, featuring founding band leader Max Nordile, Steve Oriolo (Steve0) on bass, and new drummer, Erin Allen, was preparing for a new recording and its first national tour. Aptly titled “End Days — Last Tour” it would be its last altogether. (This was solidified when I was handed a swag pair of generic party-dude shades wrapped in cellophane. I opened them and found Uzi Rash 2007-2012 boldly written in black on white on one of the temples.)

A live sneak-preview performance of the cassette, The Garbageman’s Uniform (Minor Bird Records) was preceded by stage-ready versions of more familiar sounding songs. We talked baseball a bit during a beer run, even though the postseason hadn’t yet begun. The A’s were still doing well and that’s where we were — on MLK in Oakland.

“You truly are a noise-ician. Keep it stupid, stupid,” Nordile, clad in a Grass Widow t-shirt, quipped to his drummer on a particularly up-tempo number. Earlier, he complimented the newest member’s ability to learn over 20 songs in about a month and a half’s time. Allen smiled at some of the mistakes that were made and the three wondered if they needed to dumb it down even more.

They ran through another song twice because Nordile said it went too fast. His bassist conceded with the line, “You’re the maestro.” To which he lightheartedly replied, “The maestro has decomposed.” After a few chuckles practice ended somewhat abruptly when Nordile’s guitar string broke.

COMMUNITY WASTE

Despite any corrections or control, it didn’t seem like perfection in a refurbished sense is what he was going for. I don’t think they were hamming it up for me when they foraged from bins of discarded food, which included some less-than-fresh looking bagels outside a church down the block. Nordile would later articulate part of his concept as a stance against the desacralization of nature.

“Waste, detritus, trash and garbage are documents, like fossils of the wasteful and destructive aspects of civilization,” he said. It’s that very affinity for what some consider undesirable that has fueled themes, inspired songs, and had allowed for five years of non-stop live shows that thrived on chaos and confusion (sometimes there was blood).

The industrial-strength cacophony is apparent when you listen to the final product of Uzi Rash recordings. What started as a solo project out of Nordile’s desire to not have to depend on anyone became a virtual who’s-who of East Bay-band inbreeding some 30-plus members later. Ultimately, Nordile would be calling the shots, but he’d rely on his like-minded community of supporting players and embrace their complimentary abilities by having them around. Something he considered a huge improvement.

By the time you read this, their last performance will have come and gone and Nordile will have screamed along to “I’m a Trashbag” with the deepest conviction. Oakland has long served as a gritty breeding ground for so many acts that never got their fair due or enough recognition, but with Uzi Rash, we recognize their ability to put Dylan in self-deprecating drag, to recycle a riff, rip a melody (sometimes a whole song title straight up), but to put their own “beach squelch shimmy” spin on it and make it exciting.

“Rock’n’roll has been mostly boring white boys with guitars. I am too, but I realize it and strive to acknowledge it and move on.” With that we take the boogie or, booji, as he’d say in stride and wait while Nordile casually contemplates his next music project because five years is up.

 

Honk if you love movies! New releases and rep programs

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If this week’s openings seem a little thin, it’s because all of the studios are hoping to cash in on the holiday moviegoing spirit, releasing their films next week (The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey) or, more likely, the week after (Django Unchained, Les Misérables, This is 40, The Impossible, Jack Reacher, etc.) ‘Tis the season, and all that.

But that doesn’t mean you should ignore Friday’s releases (check out my feature on custody drama In the Family), or miss out on two rep programs Dennis Harvey covers in this week’s issue: retro porn-musical showcase “Honk If You’re Horny” at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, and a tribute to French comedian Pierre Étaix at the Smith Rafael Film Center.

Plus, more short takes below, including Harvey’s preview of on the Vortex Room‘s weekly (and timely!) apocalypse series. Because if the world ends December 21, you won’t get to see any of those Christmas releases anyway. Tres désolé, Hugh!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oqe-nNhp0kw

Generation P When Babylen Tatarsky (Vladimir Epifantsev) meets an old friend by chance, he’s plucked from penny-ante street level entrepeneurship into the much higher stakes of advertising in early 1990s Russia — a brave new world of post-Communist consumerist capitalism bent on outperforming the West’s, in which new corrupt orders replace the old ones with dizzying speed. His rise from humble copy writer to a “living god” controlling mass reality one commercial at a time is accompanied by a whole lot of recreational drug use, mafia-style violence, and references to Mesopotamian mythology. Adapted from Victor Pelevin’s 1999 novel (published in the US as Homo Zapiens), Victor Ginzburg’s film preserves its heady, gonzo mix of Pynchon, cyberpunk, and Putney Swope (1969) as a satirical conspiracy fantasia in which excess is both the style and the subject. No doubt at least half the in-jokes are lost on non-Russian audiences, but Generation P is so dense and hyperactive you’ll be entertained by its fabulist sociopolitical onslaught regardless. (1:52) (Dennis Harvey)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f9gINU_VT0Q

North Sea Texas Growing up is never easy — especially when you know who you are and who you love from a tender young age, and live in a sleepy Belgian coastal hamlet in the early ’70s. Sexual freedom begins at home, as filmmaker Bavo Defurne’s debut feature opens on our beautiful little protagonist, Pim — a melancholy, shy, diligent soul who has a talent for drawing, a responsible nature, and a yen for ritual dress-up in lipstick and lace. He has an over-the-top role model: an accordion-playing, zaftig mother who has a rep as the village floozy. Left alone far too often as his mom parties at a bar named Texas, Pim takes refuge with kindly single-mom neighbor Marcella, her earnest daughter, and her sexy, motorcycle-loving son, Gino, who turns out to be just Pim’s speed. But this childhood idyll is under threat: Gino’s new girlfriend and a handsome new boarder at Pim’s house promise to change everything. Displaying a gentle, empathetic touch for his cast of mildly quirky characters and a genuine knack for conjuring those long, sensual days of youth, Defurne manages to shine a fresh, romantic light on a somewhat familiar bildungsroman, leaving a lingering taste of sea salt and sweat along with the feeling of walking in one young boy’s very specific shoes. (1:36) (Kimberly Chun)

“The Vortex Apocalypse, or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Thursday Film Cult” With a respectful nod to the Mayans, the Vortex sees off 2012 with four weeks of movies depicting end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it scenarios. First up is an interesting duo from 1974. In Chosen Survivors, 11 strangers selected for their particular knowledge and skills are taken to an elaborate government bunker deep beneath the desert. They’re told they’re among several such groups in different secret locations chosen to preserve the human race in the immediate aftermath of total thermonuclear war. This is pretty hard to take, along with the notion that they’ll be spending at least the next five years in this very 1970s silver discotheque-spaceship environ. But soon the chosen few have an even more jarring crisis to deal with: the scientists who devised this sunken fortress neglected to note it is surrounded by caves filled with hungry vampire bats. There’s a very big twist at the one-hour point, but just when this rare theatrical feature by TV director Sutton Roley (The Man From U.N.C.L.E., Airwolf, etc.) should kick into high gear, it actually seems to slow down. Still, there are a couple very tense sequences, and some interesting character fillips. The co-feature is The Last Days of Planet Earth a.k.a. Prophecies of Nostradamus, a Japanese superproduction that aimed to top both the then-prominent disaster movie genre and the strain of eco-horror dominating much of 1970s fantasy cinema. In addition to the expected earthquakes, tsunamis, and such, Earth’s meltdown triggers such phenomena as pterodactyl-sized vampire bats (again!) and bird-eating flowers. Toshio Masuda’s special effects spectacular also features a really weird modern dance performance, and — in the editorially butchered, atrociously dubbed US release version — dialogue like “But by not allowing them to live, you’re … killing them!” Vortex Room. (Dennis Harvey)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BHpsXGU0gTc

Waiting for Lightning The first voice you hear in Waiting for Lightning is pro skateboarder Danny Way’s mother: “I said, ‘Are you crazy? What do you think you’re doing?'” Can’t really blame her for worrying: Waiting for Lightning is a bio-doc following the fearless Way’s rise from littlest squirt at the Del Mar skate park to his determined quest to jump over the Great Wall of China in 2005. Growing up, he faced problems (his dad was killed in jail; his mom partied … a lot; his mentor died in a car crash; he suffered a broken neck after a surfing accident), but persevered to find his calling, pursuing what a peer calls “life-and-death stuntman shit.” Like all docs about skateboarding — a sport that depends so much on cameras standing by — there’s no shortage of action footage, and big names like Tony Hawk and Christian Hosoi drop by to heap praise on Way’s talents and work ethic. Lightning is aimed mostly at an audience already fond of watching skate footage; it lacks the artistic heft of 2001’s Dogtown and Z-Boys, or the unusually compelling narrative of 2003’s Stoked: The Rise and Fall of Gator, and the whole “Way is a golden god” theme gets a little tiresome. But it must be said: the Great Wall jump — a self-mythologizing publicity stunt that would do Evel Knievel proud — is rather spectacular. (1:32) (Cheryl Eddy)

Nite Trax: Honey Soundsystem feels love anew

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Honey Soundsystem, that handsome group of techno and disco rarety-loving DJs and purveyors of one of the best weekly parties in SF (Sundays at Holy Cow), has gone through a few changes this year, parting ways with a couple members — perhaps temporarily — to side projects and expanding their reach greatly with several international appearances.

But the honeycomb hasn’t stopped pumping out great tunes, and it looks like Honey’s latest record label, HNYTRX, has launched with an expansive, uplifting new house tune, “Face Love Anew” by Australian favorites Stereogamous featuring singer Shaun J. Wright, formerly of Hercules and Love Affair. It’s a keeper.

If you’ve been to Honey Sundays lately, you know that they’ve been absolutely off the hook, one of the country’s true Sunday night party treasures. But this Sun/25 will be extra special — it’s a release party for the new track, and many favorite Honey patrons will be in the house. Have a listen to a few preview clips below (there are also some tasty remixes by the likes of Discodromo, Jason Kendig, Horse Meat Disco, and Kim Ann Foxman) and then meet me on the dancefloor.

http://www.sfbg.com/noise/2012/11/21/nite-trax-honey-soundsystem-feels-love-anew

HNYTRX RELEASE PARTY FOR “FACE LOVE ANEW”

Sun/25, 9pm, $5

Holy Cow

1535 Folsom, SF.

www.honeysoundsystem.com

Hot sexy events: Queer calendars, hot bikes, and Dita

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Orientalism to-do aside (who does she think she is, Gwen Stefani?), making eye contact with Dita Von Teese for an extended period of time is an experience I highly recommend.

Von Teese, after all, is “the siren of our times,” as host Lady Rizo told the crowd last night at Big Daddy’s Antiques, where Cointreau is hosting a few nights of cocktails and burlesque amid the whimsical, weird towers of Big Daddy’s old things-for-sale. Last night, a performance by the Cointreauversial Von Teese headlined the event preview, which also featured a vast swath of cocktails shaken up the brand’s “master mixologist” Kyle Ford. You can check out the show, minus Dita, for free with RSVP today Wed/14 and tomorrow Thu/15.

Ask her if her shit stinks,” whispered my escort for the evening. 

I didn’t. But the soft-spoken Von Teese and I managed to cover a few other topics during our brief chat next to a wall of glowing Cointreau bottles. For example, what the most over-the-top feminine woman today considers to be the most masculine thing about herself (“my ability to paralell park. No, my collection of vintage autos. I drive a 1953 Cadillac on a daily basis.”), how she survived the vitriolic election season (“I have a girlfriend who keeps me informed. I fill out my ballot with her. Everything turned out fine in the end…”), and the sexiest thing she’s seen in 2012 — a question for which the seasoned star, surprisingly, had no pat answer for (“you mean, that I can tell you about?”)

But eventually, she hit upon it. “I’ve seen a lot of sexy moments within my show [her revue, “Strip, Strip Hooray!” which features curvy burlesquer Dirty Martini and Perle Noir]. We have a lot of diverse body shapes.”

Does she ever get blowback from fans for featuring fat girls in her shows? (We are talking about fat girls, amiright?) Not, Von Teese told me, from people who have actually watched “Strip, Strip Hooray!”

“But I have had them go, wow, I’ve never seen anything like that.”

… Which was exactly what I was thinking from my front row spot watch Von Teese do her jaw-dropping thing, first in a sequined South Pacific-style two-piece, then a feathered fan, then nothing much of anything — a string of sparkles, pasties, and a coy smile. 

La Maison Cointreau Big Daddy’s Antiques 1550 17th St., SF. www.lamaisoncointreau.com. Wed/14-Thu/15 6-9:30pm, free. RSVP for time slot

Bawdy Storytelling: Gender Bender

GenderFork founder Sarah Dopp created an online place to celebrate transgender, genderqueer, and androgynous folks, which is pretty much the perfect resume for a reader at tonight’s Bawdy. The XXX storytelling series explores the nooks and crannies of gender variance. Dopp will be joined by sex educator Reid Mihalko, performer Lily Black, and more at this last Oakland Bawdy for the forseeable future. 

Wed/14 7-10:30pm, 

The Uptown

1928 Telegraph, Oakl.

www.bawdystorytelling.com

“Everyday Pervertibles: DIY Kink”

When Sister Eden Asp asks you to find pervy uses for a quotidian object, you do it. Porn stars Leo Forte and Element Eclipse may be particularly suited for the task, which means that tonight’s event, at which they’ll share their sexual imaginations, will be a must-attend for anyone who is looking to learn about kink play that’s safe, sane, sexy. 

Wed/14 7-9pm

Center for Sex and Culture

1349 Mission, SF

www.sexandculture.org

Q-Were calendar release parties

Chicagoan photographer Patience Meeks has pulled together this gorgeous 12-monther of queer women just in time for your early holiday shopping (you’re doing that, right?) To celebrate, her team has organized parties on either side of the Bay at sexy hot spots, where they’ll be selling the calendar and mingling with its fans. 

Oakland: Thu/15 6pm, free

Feelmore510 

1703 Telegraph, Oakl.

www.feelmore510.com

San Francisco: Fri/16 8:45pm, free

Lexington Club

3464 16th St., SF

www.lexingtonclub.com

Progressive International Motorcycle Show

Leather aficionados will vroom vroom for this weekend expo of the burliest, sexiest two- and three-wheeled numbers in the industry. Among the vehicles that will be available for you to cast your voyeuristic eyes all over will be: first person from this country to win the Grand Prix motorcycle racing world championship Kenny Roger’s bikes and Honda’s 2013 bikes, appearing for the first time in public.

Fri/16 3pm-8pm; Sat/17 9:30am-8pm; Sun/18 9:30am-5pm, $15 day pass

San Mateo County Event Center

2495 South Delaware, San Mateo

www.motorcycleshows.com

The Godless Perverts Story Hour

How many times has Jesus poked his meddling beard into your bedroom? We all know that God and his son have no place in your sexual doings. This fact will be celebrated at tonight’s reading, featuring confirmed blasphemers Maggie Mayhem, Greta Christina, David Fitzgerald, Chris Hall, Dana Fredsti, Anthony O’Con, Simon Sheppard, and M.Christian. Earthly lechers, rejoice. 

Sat/17 7pm, $10-20

Center for Sex and Culture

1349 Mission, SF

www.sexandculture.org

Life’s a gas

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marke@sfbg.com

SUPER EGO OK, first of all, there is now the first all-night whipped cream supply delivery service in the world right here in SF — the evocatively named Hippie Gap. “We do NOT condone ANY MISS use [sic] of our products!!!” says the About. “Whip-it! Original N2O” it then goes on, before linking to the Wikipedia entry for nitrous oxide. 10pm-10am, y’all. The best parts of rave may have been the stroboscopic aneurysms (and the bisexual Smart Drinks vendors): when the nitrous tank arrived the carnival truly began. But I’ll really sit up if someone bikes a gasmask greased with Vick’s VapoRub to my stoop. Screw your Backstreet Boys crap, that’s when the ’90s really will be back.

Also, right now there is a gang of kick-ass, stiletto-heeled Estonian girls in Miami getting vulnerable rich businessmen drunk at “Russian-style” bars and tricking them into buy extravagantly tacky things like Dom Perignon and boatloads of caviar. They are known as the B-Girls and they grifted one poor slob out of $48,000. They are kind of my girl-gang heroes? Well, right after Pussy Riot, Foxfire, Steel Magnolias, the Mi Vida Loca cholas, and the Sisterhood of the Transgender Pants.

 

MAYA JANE COLES

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ShMAgi_d77w

Young Brit phenom has been on an unstoppable tear the past few years, and while the hype has cooled somewhat, the skills have stayed white hot. Jazz-eared, soulful tech-house and killer bass augmentation swing wonderfully wide across a variety of moods, and always hit the spot. With local favorites Moniker and Brian Bejarano.

Thu/8, 9pm, $20. Monarch, 101 Sixth St., SF. www.monarchsf.com

 

STARKEY

Ethereal Philly street bass hero bangs the floor out with his futuristic swoops and sticky-starlight arpeggios — get a preview of new album Orbits, dropping in December, at new beats ‘n bass party Sway. Soulful fellow bass-face Kastle, of San Francisco and awfully good looking, dubs it up to open.

Thu/8, 9pm, $10–$15. 330 Ritch, SF. starkeyandkastle.eventbrite.com

 

ASC

A sweet night of thoughtful techno that doesn’t shy away from rippling drum and bass ecstasy from this grown-up veteran of the UK hardcore scene. Local smarties Ghosts on Tape, Bells and Whistles, and Mossmoss jumpstart the sophisticated, super-danceable aural vibes at the monthly As You Like It party.

Fri/9, 10pm-late, $10–$20. Beatbox, 314 11th St., SF. www.ayli-sf.com

 

MOUNT KIMBIE

A lineup to make cerebral bassheads’ hearts go boom. Transcendent UK duo Mount Kimbie aren’t afraid to take you off the rails and down a winding trail with their live sets. Gorgeous Floridian tech-dubber XXYYXX also appears, with SF electronic dreamer Giraffage (“Feels” is one of my fave 2012 tracks), D33J, Dials, and the Lights Down Low nutters.

Fri/9, 10pm-3am, $17–$20. 103 Harriet, SF. www.1015.com

 

RAREBITS

One of the cutest little secrets of nightlife music nerds has been this wildly eclectic night of, well, rare bits of sonic loveliness and genius off-kilter projections, put on by three cute bearish guys and tucked away in gay bar Truck. For this anniversary free-for-all, they’ve invited 16 DJs (including residents Chicken, Bearno Kardashian, and Bobby Please) to spin 20-minute sets of yummy, weird stuff. Plus there’ll be pop-up food from Two Tarts and a Stove. Delish.

Fri/9, 6pm-2am, free. Truck, 1900 Folsom, SF. rarebits.tumblr.com

 

ALL NIGHT LONG

If you’ve just moved here from another planet, or know a friend who really needs to catch up, witnessing classic DJ Garth take the decks for a fabuloso marathon five-and-a-half hour set in the Public Works loft — well, that’s the perfect crash course in 20 years of San Francisco dance music.

His titillatingly wicked blend of psychedelic rock, cosmic disco, acid house, and pagan grooves will have you howling at the moon right quickly, friend.

Sat/10, 10pm-3:30am, $7. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com

 

NON-STOP BHANGRA DIWALI CELEBRATION

Meanwhile, downstairs at Public Works, one of my favorite monthly parties celebrates the Indian festival of lights, Diwali, with a bhangra-riffic blowout, with the dholrythms dancers, live dhol drummers, and DJs Jimmy Love, rav-E, Santero, and Harvi Bhachu. It all kicks off with a seriously great bhangra flashmob and procession at 16th Street and Valencia at 9pm. Bring a light and let it shine!

Sat/10, 9pm-3am, $10–$15. Public Works, 161 Erie, SF. www.publicsf.com

 

On the Cheap Listings

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Submit items for the listings at listings@sfbg.com. For further information on how to submit items for the listings, see Picks.

WEDNESDAY 31

Hacienda Halloween Peralta House Museum of History and Community, 2465 34th Ave., Oakl. (510) 532-9142, www.peraltahacienda.org. 5:30-7:30pm, free. Halloween events can be educational too! The Peralta House Museum would like to invite you to come brush up on your California history and learn how the early settlers of the Golden State celebrated Halloween. There will be snacks (from the on-site garden, no less!)

THURSDAY 1

“When We Were Young and Dumb” Make-Out Room, 3225 22nd St., SF. (415) 863-8688, www.booksmith.com. 6-9pm, free. Watch writers from the Believer and Seattle’s alt-weekly The Stranger get embroiled in a no-holds-barred reading ranging from religion to LSD to virginity. Buy Bethany Jean Clement, Christopher Frizzelle, and Lindy West’s latest book How to be a Person, and you’ll get a free drink. 

“Conversations With Artists” Contemporary Jewish Museum, 736 Mission, SF. (415) 655-7800, www.thecjm.org. 6:30-8:30pm, free–$5. The quest for social justice via documentation of the marginalized are at the heart of artist Rachel Schreiber’s and UCSC professor Martin Berger’s work. Both will be on hand to discuss their progressive-themed photo exhibits that document the crossroads of people and place in the Bay Area.

“Fluorescent Virgins: Contemporary Alters and Offerings for the Dead” The Art Gallery at the Cesar Chavez Student Center, SFSU, 1650 Holloway, SF. (415) 338-2580, www.sfsustudentcenter.com/artgallery. Through Nov/8. Reception: 5-8pm, free. Witness the rich cultural tradition steeped in Latino folklore that is this exhibit, which shows a broad display of vibrant and artful altars associated with Dia de los Muertos.

FRIDAY 2

“Entrippy” D-Structure, 520 Haight, SF. (718) 938-0678, www.drewmorrison.com. Through Dec/5. Opening reception: 6-10pm, free. Brooklyn artist Drew Morrison wants you to come get all metaphysical with him at his first West Coast exhibit. The paintings in this new exhibit delve in the perceptions of mass and tangible matter and shifting identity of elemental beings

Hendrix on Hendrix Diesel, A Bookstore, 5433 College, Oakl. (510) 653-9965, www.dieselbookstore.com. 7pm, free. If you fancy yourself a Jimi Hendrix enthusiast, then you should cancel whatever you have going on this Friday night and rush over to Diesel, A Bookstore where local author and all-around Hendrix maven Steven Roby will be promoting his new book Hendrix on Hendrix: Interviews and Encounters with Jimi Hendrix. Falling on what would have been Hendrix’s 70th birthday, at this event Roby will playing clips from interviews with the guitar great. Some are calling his book the closest thing we’ll get to a Hendrix autobiography, come see why.

Dia de los Muertos North Berkeley procession and altars Shattuck and Rose, Berk. Community altars: 5-7:30pm; candle-lit procession 7:45-9pm, free. Bay Area Day of the Dead: not just for the Mission anymore. This year, you can play La Catrina in the burgeoning restaurant district of North Berkeley — or, if you’re not just looking for an excuse to wear facepaint, view altars and mourn those who have recently passed with a candle and your community in the somber night-time processional.

SATURDAY 3

Potrero Hill History Night International Studies Academy, 655 De Haro, SF. (415) 863-0784. 5:30pm, free. A can’t-miss for a proud Potrero Hill dweller, or anyone who enjoys a good barbecue and live music. The Potrero Hill Archives project is producing this 13th installment of its annual Potrero Hill History night. In addition to eats and beats, take in stories from readers like Chronicle columnist Carl Nolte about growing up in this neighborhood.

“Birding for Everyone” Meet at SF Botanical Garden bookstore, Golden Gate Park, SF. (415) 387-9160, www.sfnature.org. 10am-noon, free–$10. In the mood for some flights of fancy? Join naturalists Nancy DeStefanis and Bill Milestone as they take you on a hike through the SF botanical garden, while educating you on the richly-colored avian flocks present in the garden.

“Slow it! Spread it! Sink it!” SFPUC Headquarters, 525 Golden Gate, SF. (415) 554-3289, www.sfwater.org. 1-4pm, free with RSVP to jwalsh@sfwater.org. For dwellers in a city that stays dry most of the year, it might come as a shock to hear that SF’s annual rainfall equals 9.5 billion gallons. For more interesting facts about the city’s infrastructure, join the San Francisco Public Utilities Commission for a tour of the city’s latest green infrastructure installations.

SUNDAY 4

Winter Art Festival San Francisco Art Institute, 800 Chestnut, SF. (415) 749-4508, www.sfai.edu/SFAIwinterartfest. 11am-4pm, free. A month and a half before the actual start of winter, the SFAI will preview the season with an exhibit and art sale of pieces from over 200 alumni and students. Rounding out this extravagant affair will be live music, interactive installations, and the omnipresent food trucks — this time, you’ll dine on Happa Ramen and Le Truc.

Drunks, drugs, kung fu, and rock ‘n’ roll: just another week at the movies

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This week, get thee to the Roxie for “Not Necessarily Noir III” (Dennis Harvey’s preview here), or the wind-whipped moors for Andrea Arnold’s brutal new Wuthering Heights (my chat with Arnold here). Other new stuff we haven’t reviewed yet: the not-screened-for-critics-because-let’s-face-it-these-movies-are-critic-proof Paranormal Activity 4, and Tyler Perry’s first Madea-free enterprise in some time, Alex Cross.

Read on for more new reviews!

Bel Borba Aqui “The People’s Picasso” and “Brazil’s Pied Piper of Street Art” are both apt descriptions of veteran artist Bel Borba, who has spent decades bringing color and imagination to the streets of Salvador — his seaside hometown, and a place already graced with the nickname “Brazil’s Capital of Happiness.” It’s not a stretch to imagine that Borba’s commitment to public art (a giant Christmas tree made of plastic Coke bottles, a rhinoceros sculpture crafted from old boat planks, hundreds of large-scale mosaics, even a painted airplane) has done its share to lift spirits. Bel Borba Aqui isn’t the sort of doc to delve into its mustachioed subject’s history or personal life (despite a few angry cell phone conversations randomly captured along the way); instead, it’s much like Borba himself — freewheeling and spontaneous, and most alive when it’s showing art being created. Great soundtrack, too. (1:34) Roxie. (Cheryl Eddy)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d-SQ0pgjXm0

Fat Kid Rules the World It really does suck to be Troy (Jacob Wysocki from 2011’s Terri). An XXL-sized high schooler, he’s invisible to his peers, derided by his little brother (Dylan Arnold), and has lived in general domestic misery since the death of his beloved mother under the heavy-handed rule of his well-meaning but humorless ex-military dad (Billy Campbell). His only friends are online gamers, his only girlfriends the imaginary kind. But all that begins to change when chance throws him across the path of notorious local hellraiser Marcus (Matt O’Leary), who’s been expelled from school, has left the band he fronts, and is equal parts rebel hero to druggy, lyin’ mess. But he randomly decrees Troy is cool, and his new drummer. Even if he’s just being used, Troy’s world is headed for some big changes. Actor Matthew Lillard’s feature directorial debut, based on K.L. Going’s graphic novel, is familiar stuff in outline but a delight in execution, as it trades the usual teen-comedy crudities (a few gratuitous joke fantasy sequences aside) for something more heartfelt and restrained, while still funny. O’Leary from last year’s overlooked Natural Selection is flamboyantly terrific, while on the opposite end of the acting scale Campbell makes repressed emotion count for a lot — he has one wordless moment at a hospital that just might bring you to the tears his character refuses to spill. (1:38) (Dennis Harvey)

The House I Live In Much like he did in 2005’s Why We Fight, filmmaker Eugene Jarecki identifies a Big Issue (in that film, the Iraq War) and strips it down, tracing all of the history leading up to the current crisis point. Here, he takes on America’s “war on drugs,” which I put quotes around not just because it was a phrase spoken by Nixon and Reagan, but also because — as The House I Live In ruthlessly exposes — it’s been a failure, a sham, since its origins in the late 1960s. Framing his investigation with the personal story of his family’s housekeeper — whose dedication to the Jarecki family meant that she was absent when her own son turned to drugs — and enfolding a diverse array of interviews (a sympathetic prison guard, addicts and their families, The Wire‘s David Simon) and locations (New York City, Sioux City), Jarecki has created an eye-opening film. Particularly well-explained are segments on how drug laws correlate directly to race and class, and how the prison-industrial complex has played a part in making sure those laws remain as strict as possible. (1:48)  (Cheryl Eddy)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=i1vOw9ykpQk

Middle of Nowhere All the reasons why movie publicist turned filmmaker Ava DuVernay scored the best director award at the Sundance Film Festival are up here on the screen. Taking on the emotionally charged yet rarely attempted challenge of picturing the life of the loved one left behind by the incarcerated, DuVernay furthers the cause of telling African American stories — she founded AaFFRM (African-American Film Festival Releasing Movement) and made her directorial debut with 2008 LA hip-hop doc This Is The Life — with Middle of Nowhere. Medical student Ruby (the compelling Emayatzy Corinealdi) appears to have a bright future ahead of her, when her husband Derek (Omari Hardwick) makes some bad choices and is tossed into maximum security prison for eight long years. She swears she’ll wait for him, putting her dreams aside, making the long bus ride out to visit him regularly, and settling for any nursing shift she can. How will she scrape the money together to pay the lawyer for Derek’s parole hearing, cope with the grinding disapproval of her mother (Lorraine Toussaint), support the increasingly hardened and altered Derek, and most importantly, discover a new path for herself? All are handled with rare empathy and compassion by DuVernay, who is rewarded for her care by her cast’s powerful performances. Our reward might be found amid the everyday poetry of Ruby’s life, while she wraps her hair for bed, watches Ali: Fear Eats the Soul (1974), and fantasizes about love in a life interrupted. (1:41) (Kimberly Chun)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=80_L_LsOexE

Simon and the Oaks Despite being gripping or heartwarming at times, Simon and the Oaks, based on the novel by Marianne Fredricksson, fails to cohere, serving as another reminder of the perennial dilemma of converting literature to film. It tells the story of Simon (Bill Skarsgard — son of Stellan, younger brother of Alexander), a boy coming of age in World War II Sweden. He befriends Isak, son of a Jewish bookkeeper who fled Nazi Germany, and their families become close when Isak’s father nurtures Simon’s love of books and Isak begins to heal his emotional scars by diving into carpentry work with Simon’s father. The moments of true human compassion between the two families begin to falter as the story jumps around to follow Simon’s search for love and identity. More missteps: Simon’s discovery of classical music is conveyed via a series of “artsy” montages, and his brief affair with a fiery Auschwitz victim — problematic, to say the least. (2:02) (Molly Champlin)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QtT1cKo4RX4

Smashed A heartbreaking lead performance from Mary Elizabeth Winstead drives this tale of a marriage tested when one partner decides to get sober. And it’s time: after an epic night of boozing, first-grade teacher Kate (Winstead) pukes in front of her class, then lies and says she’s pregnant, not anticipating the pushy delight of the school’s principal (Megan Mullally). Plus, Kate’s gotten into the habit of waking up in strange, unsafe places, not really remembering how she stumbled there in the first place. Husband Charlie (Breaking Bad‘s Aaron Paul) sees no reason to give up partying; he’s a music blogger whose “office” is the home his wealthy parents bought for the couple, and his problem isn’t quite as unmanageable as hers (at least, we never see him peeing in a convenience store). After Kate joins AA, she realizes she’ll have to face her problems rather than drinking them away — a potentially clichéd character arc that’s handled without flashy hysterics by director and co-writer (with Susan Burke) James Ponsoldt, and conveyed with grace and pain by Winstead —an actor probably best-known for playing Ramona Flowers in 2010’s Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, but just now revealing the scope of her talent. (1:25) (Cheryl Eddy)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_LSX_UH0F9g

Tai Chi Zero A little boy dubbed “the Freak” for the curious, horn-like growth on his forehead grows up to be Lu Chan (Jaydan Yuan), who becomes a near-supernatural martial arts machine when the horn is punched, panic-button style. But activating the “Three Blossoms of the Crown,” as it’s called, takes a toll on the boy’s health, so he’s sent to the isolated Chen Village to learn their signature moves, though he’s repeatedly told “Chen-style kung fu is not taught to outsiders!” Stephen Fung’s lighthearted direction (characters are introduced with bios about the actors who play them, even the split-second cameos: “Andrew Lau, director of the Infernal Affairs trilogy”), affinity for steampunk and whimsy, engagement of Sammo Hung as action director, and embracing of the absurd (the film’s most-repeated line: “What the hell?”) all bring interest to this otherwise pretty predictable kung-fu tale, with its old-ways-versus-Western-ways conflict and misfit hero. Still, there’s something to be said for batshit insanity. (Be warned, though: Tai Chi Zero is the first in a series, which means one thing: it ends on a cliffhanger. Argh.) (1:34) (Cheryl Eddy)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NWIAjsf9Xq0

The Waiting Room Twenty-four hours in the uneasy limbo of an ER waiting room sounds like a grueling, maddening experience, and that’s certainly a theme in this day-in-the-life film. But local documentarian Peter Nicks has crafted an absorbing portrait of emergency public health care, as experienced by patients and their families at Oakland’s Highland Hospital and as practiced by the staff there. Other themes: no insurance, no primary care physician, and an emergency room being used as a medical facility of first, last, and only resort. Nicks has found a rich array of subjects to tell this complicated story: An anxious, unemployed father sits at his little girl’s bedside. Staffers stare at a computer screen, tracking a flood of admissions and the scarce commodity of available beds. A doctor contemplates the ethics of discharging a homeless addict for the sake of freeing up one of them. And a humorous, ultra-competent triage nurse fields an endless queue of arrivals with humanity and steady nerves. (1:21) (Lynn Rapoport)

The real McGee

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caitlin@sfbg.com

STREET ART Gone are the days when Barry McGee, or Twist, or Ray Fong, or whatever alias he happened to be painting under at the time, stalked the San Francisco streets throwing up 3-D screws, Clarion Alley stunners, and his much-admired tags. Nowadays, he exhibits in big-deal gallery shows, like his mid-career retrospective that opened to much fanfare at the Berkeley Art Museum and Pacific Film Archive on August 24.

BAM/PFA devoted a space the size of a downtown parking garage to McGee’s works, which have ballooned in size as the years go on. Walls literally bulge with clusters of photos and drawings, a homage to the multifarious chorus of the street. A four-pack of dummies from his show at Pittsburgh’s 55th Carnegie International perch on each other shoulders, the uppermost’s arm mechanically waving a spray can. Look, an upended white van! Curator Lawrence Rinder had “no idea” how McGee and his henchmen managed to fit the vehicle into the gallery, as Rinder told a passel of press types at a media preview.

Recently-completed behemoth wall of his patched acid tests in Brooklyn notwithstanding, McGee is the poster child for decades-old genre of “street artist” — those who may have gotten started on the street, but now focus their creative oeuvre on recreating street art-style works indoors.

You’ll never miss the graffiti cultural reference at the retrospective — outside BAM/PFA, tags covered one wall of the museum (“SNITCH” the faker said, tricking me for a moment into thinking that someone had beef with McGee, which would be heresy in these parts) and its glass front doors.

This juxtaposition may be the main thing that keeps McGee’s art interesting. Small tropes impregnate the Berkeley retrospective: on one red wall McGee’s buffed his own work, then overlaid it with blank speech bubbles. Creation, censure, empty creation — it’s the weird feedback loop of his gallery-street life encapsulated.

“I appreciates his early stuff more than the esoteric stuff he’s doing today,” says muralist Sirron Norris when I call him at his Valencia Street studio to talk about McGee’s influence. “That stuff just goes right over my head.”

Norris moved to SF in 1997. Initially a commercial artist, “I was just blown away by the fact that there were cartoons in museums and galleries, and that was because of Barry,” he said. “I thought, I can do that.” McGee and his partner Margaret Kilgallen were instrumental in Norris’ decision to paint his now-signature blue bears and Victorion anti-gentrification Transformer on walls in the Mission and Western Addition. (Catch his most recent, whimsical mega-wall, info in this week’s rundown of our favorite Bay Area murals)

“He was doing something different.” Susan Cervantes co-founded Precita Eyes Mural Arts in 1977, and since then has been at the nexus of community mural-making in San Francisco and the Mission. The kind of murals that Precita Eyes sponsors tend to more neighborhood, family-based than McGee’s works, which even then smacked of high art potential (or were they high art already? A graduate of the SF Art Institute, the “street artist cum gallery artist” cliché was never apt in describing McGee.) Cervantes has known him since before he got into street art, and once he started on her neighborhood’s walls, she says his influence on other artists was undeniable.

“He showed us another way of seeing the world around us,” she tells me in a phone interview. “There’s things that have more content in them than just doing your name, or doing different styles of lettering.”

Looking around at the murals in the Bay today, the possibilities McGee exposed us to are evident. But I wonder sometimes who is becoming inspired by his gallery works, or those of other “street artists” who have found a way to support themselves in the art world. Are there baby taggers out there who are having their minds blown by this street-gallery mashup, who see possibilities for the once-and-sometimes-subversive art, not just increased the potential commercial viability?

Well anyway, I sure hope so.

BARRY MCGEE

Through Dec. 9, $9.50 museum admission

Berkeley Art Museum and Pacific Film Archive

2626 Bancroft Way, Berk.

bampfa.berkeley.edu

 

Summer of Art continues through fall with “What’s On Stage?”

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What’s on Stage? (produced by Denia Dance and People in Plazas) takes the stage from the theatre to the streets with free Tuesday lunch-time performances at UN Plaza. A part of the Summer of Art series, this cultural respite from the hectic workweek continues throughout the month of September.

Up next is the September 11 event featuring Yannis Andoniou’s KUNST-STOFF Dance Co., who will preview The Moment You Stood Still…#7 moNOs – catch the world premier at the Old Mint Building Courtyard on October 13 and 14. KUNST-STOFF Dance Company partners with The San Francisco Museum and Historical Society to present this funny, dramatic, and at times “real” play on appropriation and acceptance.

Also catch the Leyya Tawail’s DANCE ELIXER preview of Destroy// with live music by Mike Guarino of Tiberius before a full ensemble of dancers and musicians perform it October 4-6 at KUNST-STOFF arts, as well as Kate Jordan Dance Project’s preview of BUILd – performed by Bruno Augusto – before it premiers October 24 at the 24 Days of Central Market Arts Festival.

Central Market Guide*

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CounterPULSE

CounterPULSE is an experimental and innovative non-profit theater, performance space, community center, and gallery with roots deep in the Bay Area’s provocative performance and dance scenes. Supports emerging, local, and talented artists and performers who have not yet tapped into the larger Arts funding streams by producing their own shows, hosting residency programs, and boot camps, not to mention the constant combing of the artist community for emerging talent. Their small and intimate stage can seem to blur the link between audience and performer for a truly unique theater-going experience. Perfect for those seeking an out-of-the-box adventure and fringe art aficionados alike, CounterPULSE is conveniently and centrally located – just a short walk up Ninth St. from the Civic Center BART and Muni Metro stations.

1310 Mission St | (415) 626-2060 | counterpulse.org



A.C.T. Presents: Electra

Direct from its acclaimed sold-out premiere in Los Angeles, A.C.T. director Carey Perloff brings her sweeping production of Sophocles’ Electra to the Bay Area beginning October 25, with a specially-commissioned new translation by London playwright Timberlake Wertenbaker and a haunting original score by Pulitzer Prize-winning composer David Lang. A feast of poetic language, Elektra features two of A.C.T.’s most beloved performers: core acting company member René Augesen in the title role and associate artist (and Academy Award winner) Olympia Dukakis as the fiercely partisan Chorus Leader.

After her mother murders her father, Elektra is driven by grief, perpetually reliving the horrific event to refuel her burning need for revenge. See why the LA Times calls A.C.T.’s production of Electra “shattering in its poignancy.” For show times, visit act-sf.org.

 


24 Days of Central Market Arts Festival

Central Market Arts, is thrilled to announce its third year offering the 24 Days of Central Market Arts Festival, a free and open-to-the-public art festival in the Central Market district of San Francisco. The festival kicked-off last month and continues through October 21 with action-packed performances and activities at a variety of Central Market locales like Mint Plaza, United Nations Plaza, The Old Mint Building, and Market at 6th Street. A calendar and map of all events can be found by logging on to centralmarketarts.org.

Next up is KUNST-STOFF arts presents: Dance Based Artistic processes at Mint Plaza from 1-4:30pm on Saturday, October 20. Sharing the outdoor stage is Tango & More Argentine Dance, Hallie Dalsimer, Santa Barbara Dance Theater Kate Jordan, Tahoe Youth Ballet, Bruno Augusto, Dance ELIXIR, Anne-Rene Petrarca/Sculpted Motion Samantha Giron, Laura Arrington, KUNST-STOFF Dance Company Dancers, and Guests.

 


Marinello Schools of Beauty

Started in 1905 by a physician’s wife cooking up batches of face cream in her Wisconsin kitchen, Marinello Schools of Beauty are now the nation’s leading chain of beauty schools, where industry professionals teach aspiring cosmetologists, estheticians, and manicurists their tricks of the trade. Marinello schools are at the forefront of beauty education so rest assured that their advanced students will give you quality services at unbelievably reasonable prices, that will make you feel like a million bucks. For a complete menu or guest services – everything from five-dollar haircuts to forty-dollar Glycolic peels – visit their website.

1035 Market #100, SF | marinello.com | (415) 800-5842

 


Pearl’s Deluxe Burgers

 

One cannot call him or herself a burger fan unless they’ve eaten at Pearl’s. With four locations, two of which are in San Francisco, there’s no excuse not to! They’ve got a variety of beef burgers (including Kobe!) and chicken sandwiches, salads, homemade chili, and plenty of sides to make everyone in your party happy. Try the healthier and leaner grass-fed buffalo burger, or the somewhat less so King Burger topped with a hot dog, or the much less so – and appropriately named – Phat Bob with BBQ sauce, bacon, onion rings, and cheese. Pearl’s looks out for the vegetarians with veggie burger options, as well as the more indecisive crowd with their clever sides menu that includes “springs” (half sweet potato fries and onion rings), “spries” (half sweet potato fries and french fries), and “frings” (you guessed it – half french fries and onion rings). Down any combo of their outstanding comfort food with one of their milk shakes and you’re good to go.

1001 Market Street and 708 Post Street, SF | pearlsdeluxe.com

 


Huckleberry Bikes

Not even open for one year yet, Huckleberry Bikes has already become the FiDi bicycle commuter’s dream come true and go-to (their five-star Yelp score speaks for itself.) Leaving work and need a repair? Riding to work in the morning and catch a flat? Not only are they conveniently located on San Francisco’s heaviest bike commuting corridor with a nice and late close time of 7pm, they were smart – correction: genius – enough to convert a newspaper kiosk on the corner of Market and Seventh Streets for early morning drive-by servicing – open from 7:30am to 9:30am every weekday morning. Their prices are more than reasonable, their staff is less than pretentious, and their shop is stocked to the gills with everything you need for the smoothest ride.

1073 Market Street | huckleberrybicycles.com

 


Summer of Art continues through fall with What’s On Stage?

 

What’s on Stage? (produced by Denia Dance and People in Plazas) takes the stage from the theatre to the streets with free Tuesday lunch-time performances at UN Plaza. A part of the Summer of Art series, this cultural respite from the hectic workweek continues throughout the month of September.

Up next is the September 11 event featuring Yannis Andoniou’s KUNST-STOFF Dance Co., who will preview The Moment You Stood Still…#7 moNOs – catch the world premier at the Old Mint Building Courtyard on October 13 and 14. KUNST-STOFF Dance Company partners with The San Francisco Museum and Historical Society to present this funny, dramatic, and at times “real” play on appropriation and acceptance.

Also catch the Leyya Tawail’s DANCE ELIXER preview of Destroy// with live music by Mike Guarino of Tiberius before a full ensemble of dancers and musicians perform it October 4-6 at KUNST-STOFF arts, as well as Kate Jordan Dance Project’s preview of BUILd – performed by Bruno Augusto – before it premiers October 24 at the 24 Days of Central Market Arts Festival.

Barry McGee, you tricked me

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Granted I’m not out in Berkeley a ton, but I found it strange that someone had tagged an entire concrete side of the Berkeley Art Museum/Pacific Film Archive the very first week that thousands of impressionable minds were invading the UC Berkeley campus and waiting in half-block lines to enjoy a free grilled cheese sandwich in between classes.

“SNITCH,” the 15-foot-tall graff screamed, with a bubble dotting its “I.” Wow, I thought, proceeding to the media preview of Barry McGee a.k.a. Twist a.k.a. Lydia Fong a.k.a. Ray Fong’s first mid-career retrospective (opening today, through Dec. 9) — someone’s not big on Twist.

But duh, everyone (everyone in the Bay who would tag a museum wall, at least) is big on Twist. The “SNITCH” tag, just like the massive red piece that obscured the museum’s glass front doors, was engineered by McGee and his some-dozen team of be-cardiganed, baseball cap flat-brimmed artistic cohorts, many of whom were still bustling about on Thursday trying to get the exhibition ready for the opening reception mere hours away. 

He came up earning tagger cred for his masterful tags and cartoon anti-heroes all over the streets of SF, but the hyper-successful and hyper-problematic museum-street art confluence is a crossroad that Twist has stood firmly atop for decades now. Of course he’s the first to tag his own opening.

I’m not going to go into too much depth about the exhibit here, because that would make the paper piece I’m going to write about it in a few weeks totally pointless, but know that it is the most ambitious spread BAM/PFA has ever undertaken (how the hell did they get that van in there? Curator Larry Rinder had no answers for the passel of press assembled at the preview), in terms of mediums it is wildly diverse, and you will probably never see any thing like it because the days of astronomical funding for art are dead and many of the rarely-seen Twist projects — he hasn’t had a Bay Area solo show since 1994 — took stacks to produce.

If you’re looking for a good moment to check out the show, I suggest that you don’t do it during university passing time unless you dig flip-flops, and that you coordinate instead with one of the rad events that BAM/PFA has scheduled to run in accordance with the show. Here’s a couple: 

L@TE: Friday Nights @ BAM/PFA

Sept. 21, curator Larry Rinder in conversation with Jeffrey Deitch 6-7pm; Lawrence Rinder; Devendra Banhart, Justin Hoover, and Chris Treggiari 7:30-9pm, $7. McGee chats with the guy who funded his biggest splashes, Deitch, and exhibit curator Rinder. The artist’s SF Art Institute fellow alum Barnhardt brings his wacky brand of folk to the L@TE night event, with Hoover and Treggiari slinging their street-based cuisine. 

Oct. 19, Jim Prigoff: “Graffiti: A History in Photographs” 6pm; T.I.T.S. and Erick Lyle (Scam) 7:30-9pm, $7. Prigoff, along with peers Martha Cooper, Jon Naar, Jack Stewart, Henry Chalfant, traveled the world when graff was still in its young’n stages, snapping shots of a youth-based art form that had yet to run through the commercial grinder. Tonight, he runs through some of his archival images of Bay greats like DREAM, and of course, Twist. Zinester Lyle and grrrl mob quartet T.I.T.S. raise a rebel yell later that night at L@TE. 

Nov. 16, Peggy Honeywell and Bill Daniel 7:30-9pm, $7. Visual artist Clare Rojas, a.k.a. folk singer Peggy Honeywell shares an affinity with partner McGee for aliases, and is sure to turn out a hot show (check out our 2011 interview for her woman-centric, quietly lovely artwork). Bill Daniels tracks indie film and hobos with his “dirt lot cinema.”

Barry McGee

Fri/24-Dec. 9

Berkeley Art Museum/Pacific Film Archive

2626 Bancroft, Berk.

(510) 642-0808

bampfa.berkeley.edu

Styles for miles

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arts@sfbg.com

FALL ARTS Most folks going to dance performances have a sense of how they want to spend their time and dollars. For some, a show must be conceptually edgy. For others, it’s got to be ballet. Still others want choreography that resonates with socio-political implications — or they only want to see choreography grounded in indigenous traditions. I’m more of an omnivore: show me a piece, no matter its style, in which the forces at work arise from some internal necessity and play off each other convincingly, and I’m in.

The next three months are bursting with dance offerings. In downtown San Francisco, many are free. Zaccho Dance Theatre reprises its hauntingly poetic Sailing Away (Sept. 13-16, Powell and Market, SF; www.zaccho.org); it pays tribute to the exodus of a remarkable group of African Americans. In only three years, the Central Market Arts Festival (Sept. 28-Oct. 21, various locations, SF; www.centralmarketarts.org) has exploded into a major event with dozens of performances that have probably contributed just as much to the area’s revitalization as those high-rent dot coms. Not to be missed is the world premiere of Jo Kreiter and Flyaway Productions’ Niagara Falling (Sept. 26-29, Seventh St. and Market, SF; www.flyawayproductions.com), projected and danced on an exterior wall of the Renoir Hotel. And how about the easy-riding Trolley Dances (Oct. 20-21, various locations, SF; www.epiphanydance.org) that offer unexpected site-specific encounters?

If you are willing to take another look at what may be already familiar, and your budget allows it, the Mariinsky Ballet and Orchestra (Oct. 10-14, Zellerbach Hall, Berk; www.calperformances.org) brings Swan Lake to Berkeley. It may be the most popular ballet in the world, and it is also one of the greats. Another old-timer, the 40-year-old Mummenschanz (Nov. 23-23, Zellerbach Hall, Berk; www.calperformances.org), can’t be beat for its skill, magic, and gentle humor. Take a kid. If your taste oscillates between new and old, check out Na Lei Hulu I Ka Wekiu (Oct. 20-28, Palace of Fine Arts, SF; www.naleihulu.org); its mix of traditional and new-style hula — which this year includes hip-hop — will be time and money well spent.

Keith Hennessy, probably the Bay Area’s most radical theatrical thinker, moves his pulverizing Turbulence (a dance about the economy) from COUNTERPulse to Yerba Buena Center for the Arts (Sept. 27-29, YBCA Forum, SF; www.ybca.org). There you will be invited to participate in the concept’s actualization.

Ticket-buying decision time kicks into high gear in October, with the season’s most intense concentration of big-time artists both local and visiting. Making its Bay Area premiere with the full-evening After Light (Oct. 13-14, YBCA, SF; www.performances.org) will be another of San Francisco Performances’ finds, Britain’s Russell Maliphant Company. The work, set on three performers to Erik Satie’s Gnossiennes, is inspired by dance genius Vaslav Nijinsky’s photographs, choreography, and drawings. Margaret Jenkins Dance Company (Oct. 18-21, Kanbar Hall, Jewish Community Center of San Francisco, SF; www.mjdc.org) presents a first look at Times Bones, for which the choreographer excavated ideas in her rep to re-examine for new content.

Alonzo King LINES Ballet‘s collaboration with musicians and lighting designer Axel Morgenthaler are well known. Increasingly, King seems to be searching also for innovative scenic collaborators to contextualize his mythic choreography. A preview last spring of the as yet un-named premiere (Oct. 19-28, YBCA, SF; www.linesballet.org), at the very least, promised that Jim Campbell’s set of hundreds of LED globes will create its own rhythmic motion.

African and African American voices will be heard at YBCA as part of its commitment to showcasing contemporary dance from that continent. Voices of Strength (Oct. 19-20, YBCA, SF; www.ybca.org) is a quartet of four African women — among them Mozambique’s well-known Maria Helena Pinto — who will show one work each. New YBCA Program Director Marc Bamuthi Joseph concocted “Clas/sick Hip Hop” (Nov.30-Dec.1, YBCA, SF; www.ybca.org) for which he matches a violinist with five radically different hip-hop artists, including the legendary Rennie Harris, who 20 years ago pioneered the art’s theatrical potential.

Others I will try not to miss: smart dance with RAWDance‘s Burn In/Fall Out, (Nov. 2-4, ODC Theater, SF; www.rawdance.org); Deborah Slater’s in progress collaboration with dancer-vet Private Freeman, Private Live (Nov. 2-3, CounterPULSE, SF; www.deborahslater.org); and Sebastian Grubb‘s Workout (Dec. 14-15, CounterPULSE, SF; www.counterpulse.org). At the Garage (Garage, SF; www.715bryant.org), it will be Human Creature Dance Theatre for Halloween (Oct. 31), neo-Finnish punkkiCo (Nov. 16-17), and contemporary Congolese, now SF-based dancer Byb Chanel-Bibene (Dec. 5-6). Perhaps I’ll also return to the Garage for Burlesque Basquiat, Dorian Faust‘s birthday tribute to the late painter (Dec. 21-22).

Fools in love

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>>Check out our complete FALL ARTS PREVIEW 2012

emilysavage@sfbg.com

FALL ARTS “You’re at the right place,” Tim Cohen mutters, holding a large laundry sack swaddled like a burrito to his chest as he walks up to the tri-level white Victorian on McAllister Street in San Francisco’s Western Addition. A prolific singer-songwriter with morose pop vocals and a gruff exterior, Cohen is preparing to once again tour with his band, the Fresh and Onlys. And Cohen is flying out to the East Coast earlier than the others so he can play a few shows in his other incarnation, Magic Trick.

After dropping off his laundry sack upstairs in the top tower of the Victorian, Cohen climbs down the steps and stands against a railing on the front stoop with the band’s newest member, pony-tailed drummer Kyle Gibson, who really isn’t all that new. Gibson’s first show with Cohen, bassist Shayde Sartin, and skinny, pompadoured guitarist Wymond Miles, was at Noise Pop on Feb. 26, 2009. Before he came along, the band dilly-dallied around with a bunch of different drummers for around eight months, says Cohen.

The cohesive four-piece hit the ground running, creating psychedelically swirled darkly moving garage and psych-pop in home recording studios, and releasing records and EPs at a dizzying speed, touring nearly nonstop through the past three years.

Now signed to Mexican Summer, the Fresh and Onlys have slowed down a bit, spending the end of last year recording 2012’s Long Slow Dance (which sees release Sept. 4), their fourth long-player and first since 2010’s noisier Play It Strange. This fall they’ll again pick up the pace, and tour the West Coast, East Coast, and Europe through early next year.

“I feel like this is the record we all wanted to make, we’ve been wanting to make this record for a long time,” says Miles, who slinks up last to Cohen’s stoop on this unseasonably warm summer day in SF. If not for the occasional cool breeze, the day would be downright hot. I ask him to expand and he laughs and says, “Take it, Tim.”

“We were all a lot more patient with the process,” says Cohen. “It was like, it’s already been this long, let’s do it right. Let’s get the sounds right, let’s get the takes right, let’s get the feelings and the moods right.”

Moods come up frequently in both the stoop conversation and the record itself. The dark poetic drawl is inherent within Cohen, that Morrissey-Robert Smith pain paired to jangly pop. Album opener “20 Days and 20 Nights” has a classic hook, but matched to Cohen’s words, it’s actually quite sad. “Something so heavy/in my mind/I think I want to try and get it out/So I cry/and I cry.”

Many of Cohen’s lyrics come lifted from his dreams, so naturally he keeps a notebook by his bed in the tower. “When I write something down, I’ll look at it a few days later and be like, ‘wow, that’s kind of strange,’ and I’ll usually turn that into something.”

He feels he may be subconsciously influenced by the absurdist and surrealist fiction he reads, by authors such as Kafka, and conversely, classic radio pop. On jangly “No Regard,” he opens with “ever wonder why fools fall in love?”

“I don’t know how aware Tim was of Frankie Lymon when he wrote it,” says Sartin. “Not only is it a classic lyric, it’s a classic sentiment in pop culture in general. Whenever you hear that song, Frankie Lymon still lives, even though he died a miserable death.”

After a hot pause of silent remembrance, Sartin continues, “So I think sometimes those things pop up in Tim’s lyrics. They get mangled by the time they get to the pen and paper in Tim’s hand or onto the record for that matter.”

“That’s exactly right,” Cohen says. “What I intend to do with lyrics is make them clear cut with a twist. Put sad lyrics over happy music, or happy lyrics over sad music, just to create a juxtaposition of moods that’s a more compelling listen.”

Gibson pops up, “Morrisseying. I made Morrissey a verb. That’s what he would do, he’s one of the best at that. So really macabre and dark over this like, jangle.”

While Cohen is the frontperson and lead lyricist, he doesn’t always get his way. He’s quick to bring up the example of “Foolish Person,” a dreamy ’80s-esque pop song — which dissolves into battling psychedelic guitarwork — that made it on Long Slow Dance after at least three different iterations. “Some people in the band really wanted to see it through, to see it to completion. I wasn’t totally into the idea, but I’m sort of glad we did it,” he says with a sniff. “At least, I never have to record it again.”

Gibson laughs, slipping on his sunglasses.

The band has had their share of rough spots, especially during grueling tours, but they’ve learned to communicate. “We wouldn’t have lasted this long if we couldn’t reign that toxicity in, and direct it elsewhere,” Cohen says.

The keys to the Fresh and Onlys’ success, both personally and musically, include their diverse sonic backgrounds, and relative age. Unlike youngster bands, the four musicians were already established, and had played in previous bands (including Black Fiction, and Kelley Stoltz’s band), when they came together all hovering around the age of 30.

Each blasted a different kind of noise from their childhood stereo. Cohen listened exclusively to hip-hop in Virginia (“I just listened to the way people put their words together. I would never really go off the beat — I never really have, I’m not really capable of this shambolic, careless approach to words and vocals.”). Miles came from an array of guitar schools of thought in Denver, Colo., listening to the Cure, goth, punk, and hardcore. Sartin came from the Florida punk scene, but also loves country, and his bass-playing is rooted in soul music. From DC, Gibson listened to punk and Dischord bands, which justifies his muscular drumming.

“In a fearless way, we welcome each others music genealogy into the fold,” Cohen says.

The band also thrives thanks to its San Francisco location. “I can call up any of my friends and say ‘let’s go play music.’ And if they don’t want to do it, someone else will,” says Sartin, adding “We also have a ton of inspiration from other people who live here, other bands, other artists.” He mentions former Girls drummer Garret Goddard, and Gio Betteo from Young Prisms, along with perhaps the most prolific musician in San Francisco, aside from Cohen, Thee Oh Sees’ John Dwyer (formerly of Pink and Brown and Coachwhips).

“You can have a conversation with John Dwyer and go fucking write three songs, just off the energy absorbed from him barking at you,” says Sartin.

All four musicians on the stoop shake their heads in agreement.

FRESH AND ONLYS

With Terry Malts, DJ Britt Govea

Sept. 8, 9pm, $15

Independent

628 Divisadero, SF (415) 771-1421

www.theindependentsf.com

 

Finally: All-female street art takes over ATL

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As colorful and diverse as the global street art scene is these days, it’s still overwhelmingly a boy’s game. That’s why we’re so stoked to hear about the first days of Living Walls Atlanta, a street art conference in its third year that decides to step out and feature all-female artists in 2012 Wed/15-Sun/19. Its lead organizer Monica Campana and her team have attracted an ace crew for what by all accounts will be the first all-women global street art festival.

New York-New Jersey wheatpaste artist LNY is on the ATL scene now and will have a Guardian exclusive for us next week. Read on for a preview of some of the baddie artists featured at this year’s Living Walls.

 

Go here for a video a day from the Living Walls crew

Molly Rose Freeman – Memphis

Cake — New York

Tika – Zurich 

Plus! 

Hyuro – Spain/Buenos Aires

Sten and Lex – Rome

Olive47 – Atlanta

The trouble with demons

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cheryl@sfbg.com

FILM Suspended between the deluge of superhero flicks and awards-show fodder (speaking of, check back next week for the Guardian’s fall movie preview), mid-to-late August is an outstanding time to go to your local art house, rep theater, underground cinema, or movie night in the park.

You could also seek out a pair of new movies from Asia, both opening Friday, which offer viewing experiences only similar in that they’re entirely different than anything else out there right now — or ever, in the case of Painted Skin: The Resurrection, a sort-of sequel to 2008’s Painted Skin (which one need not have seen to enjoy Resurrection).

Starring two of China’s most glamorous leading ladies, Resurrection is a lavish fantasy following the adventures of fox demon Xiaowei (Xun Zhou), who can become human only if someone voluntarily offers up his or her heart (as in, the actual blood-pumping muscle). Though she’s been rampaging cross-country trying to find a suitable man-donor, she spots a likelier candidate in Princess Jing (Vicki Zhao), who wears a delicate gold mask to conceal her scarred face. Jing has fled her royal duties to confront her true love, General Huo (Chen Kun), who is a generally nice guy and most excellent archer, but not a huge fan of the messed-up face. But wait! Supernaturally pretty Xiaowei has just the solution, and it definitely involves swapping bodies (and all-important internal organs).

But Huo is secondary here. Less a love story than the tale of a toxic friendship, Resurrection adds levity with a subplot about a demon hunter (William Feng) who falls for Xiaowei’s bird-demon sidekick (Mini Yang), and has plenty of over-the-top flair, with abundantly obvious CG and Kris Phillips’ campy performance as an evil wizard. It was a huge hit in China but will probably only reach a small audience here, so don’t miss your chance.

A different type of demon — the mental, fucks-with-your-emotions kind — infiltrates Hara-Kiri: Death of a Samurai, the latest from prolific director Takashi Miike. The speed of his output is nearly as dizzying as the array of genres represented in his filmography, though for Hara-Kiri, he sticks with the samurai milieu of his hit 2010 epic, 13 Assassins. That said, despite its equally suggestive-of-gore title, Hara-Kiri — which takes place some 250 years earlier than Assassins — is no limb-lopping extravaganza. Rather, it’s a surprisingly somber drama, with violence used judiciously (albeit gruesomely).

Solemn samurai Hanshiro (Ebizo Ichikawa, an acclaimed kabuki theater actor) appears before a feudal lord, humbly asking permission to commit ritual suicide in the man’s courtyard. But in this house, skepticism reigns over honor, thanks to a recent rash of “suicide bluffs” — it’s not death these downtrodden men seek, but sympathy in the form of handouts or job offers. In fact, there was a suicide bluff recently, right there in the courtyard. A young man named Motome. It ended badly.

It’s soon clear that Hanshiro and Motome are connected, and the circumstances that motivate their extreme behavior are indeed tragic and deeply felt. Miike takes his time getting there, though, and fans seeking breakneck mayhem may be disappointed. Side note: for whatever reason, Miike filmed Hara-Kiri in 3D, but it’ll be screening in old-school 2D during its local run at the Four Star.

 

PAINTED SKIN: THE RESURRECTION and HARA-KIRI: DEATH OF A SAMURAI open Fri/17 in San Francisco.

Instrumental duo Silian Rail includes ‘every/one’

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Do artists need vocals and lyrics to demand audience attention in a place like the Bay Area, where there are new musicians popping up left and right? Eric Kuhn and Robin Landy, better known as instrumental duo Silian Rail, have found the answer to that question to be a resounding “no.”

With a handful of locally well-received releases under its belt and an upcoming headlining show at Bottom of the Hill, Silian Rail has clearly made it work thus far without words. The band’s songs run on a driving rhythm paired with carefully crafted guitar work. The complexity of its sound has continued to kept critics and fans coming back for more – a happy discovery for many, that expansive instrumental music can hold their attention.

For a recent companion piece, however, the band added something somewhat foreign to its repertoire, through collaborations with other artists: vocals. “We do have a couple singers on this album,” Kuhn says.

“Our choice to be an instrumental band is not something we ever really talked about. The way we play together emerged quite naturally – [Landy] plays guitar, I play drums…We thought it would be a fun excuse to collaborate with friends and see what they would contribute.”

Silian Rail’s collaborative recent EP every/one (released in May of this year as a companion to the each/other album) will benefit United Roots Oakland, with all of the proceeds going towards its community engagement programs in the arts and media. That EP includes Lewis Patzner (Judgement Day, the Devotionals), Thao Nguyen, Andrew Maguire (Thao and Mirah, DRMS, the Devotionals), Colleen Johnson (Upside Drown), and Winston Goertz-Giffen (Saything).

“The Bay Area music scene is great – not just to blow smoke up the collective ass of the Bay Area,”  Landy says with a laugh. “It’s non-competitive and very supportive. It seems different than LA or New York in that way… I’m just guessing.”

Kuhn says the title of the album, every/one, is a reflection on the tension and paradox of the strength of a collective or a collaboration versus the importance of individual freedom.

“The songs are more or less all from a similar thematic world, which are various texts, films, experiences relating to non-normative psychological functioning – an attempt at sensitively referring to what is classically termed ‘mental illness’,” Kuhn explains.  

“[We] have a lot of empathy for these perspectives, and relate to them in many ways, and respect the non-normative psychological individual as being someone often possessing of an ability to see beyond the arbitrary limits placed on our experience of the world by the various social codes and ideologies that are part of the status quo. There is a wildness and also a directness and a poetic nonsense clarity that we find inspiring and that generally tickles our fancy.”

The band discovered United Roots Oakland at an Occupy Oakland event, where there were young kids free-styling. “It’s an awesome thing to have a creative outlet for kids, [and] to have competent adults there to coach them,” Landy says.

And since the EP was a collaboration, it seemed strange for the band to personally collect a profit from it, Kuhn says, which is they decided to donate.

Silian Rail has a long history of creative endeavors with other musicians. It first gained attention through its connection with other East Bay acts such as Tartufi, Birds & Batteries, and Low Red Land as the group Thread Productions. Although Thread is no longer active, a lot of what the group used to do still happens informally – the bands frequent each others’ shows, try to spread the word on upcoming concerts, and often perform live together.

“It was a hugely helpful idea at the time,” Landy says. “Lynne Angel from Tartufi still plays with us. Our new record is super lush, so we needed extra instrumentation, and she was kind enough to lend her talents. Tartufi still does a lot of broader community organizing around music. I have no idea how they find the time and energy to do it!”

Yet Silian Rail seems to pack in a lot projects in too. Its working towards scoring more film projects – its music has already turned up in various indie films, short clips, and videos, such as an ad for “Farm Fresh Cocktails” (which both Landy and Kuhn found quite odd). Essentially, the Silian Rail sound seems ideal for soundtracks.

But the band’s own music, of course, always comes first. They’ve both long been drawn to creating music. They were friends who grew up together in North Carolina, and parted ways at 13, only to find one another in California many years later.

“Having a guitar with me through adolescence was a lifesaver, having that emotional outlet.” Landy says, reflecting on the importance of music.
Another charitable activity on the band’s plate: it just finished a session at Bay Area Girls Rock Camp – a nonprofit organization that “empowers girls through music” –  in Oakland before our interview. At the camp, musicians teach workshops, host group activities, and perform live.

“Kids are so honest that we were more nervous to play in front of a group of five to 12-years-olds then we are playing a packed venue in San Francisco,” Landy says, “They asked us why we don’t have a singer.”

“With these arts programs, it’s not like if kids have something to do, their problems will go away, it is clearly more complicated; but music can serve as an outlet.”
Kuhn adds: “Music is a means of expression and communication that transcends a lot of barriers – things like technology – more than just language and culture. It holds a fundamental power to enable communication with people.”

For such a technically impressive band, I was impressed to find out that Landy had no formal training on guitar “I don’t really know what I’m doing at all, which has mostly helped my style evolve. I am free to experiment and do things in a different way. It’s all abut making happy mistakes; of course there are benefits to knowing what you’re doing, but it is also a benefit for me to not know. The way I learn things, it probably would have been a waste of time anyway.”

“I did play flute in band during middle school,” she says. “But guitar is basically the opposite of those instruments.”

While Eric had a moderate amount of formal training (he took guitar lessons in high school and “tried to be a music major in college”), he now learns to write for different instruments for new songs without proper lessons. “I needed to write violin and cello parts for songs I’m doing on the new album, so I sat down with a music book and did that.”

“I’m inspired by painters,” he muses. “The idea of fearlessly exploring new territory and always pushing ourselves to new places.”

Silian Rail
With Shuteye Unison, B. Hamilton
Thu/9, $10, 9pm
Bottom of the Hill
1233 17th, SF
(415) 626-4455
www.bottomofthehill.com

Live Shots: SF Street Food Festival 2012 preview

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The SF Street Food Festival has become such a delight in the summertime. (This year’s takes place on Saturday, August 18.) A chance to sample wonderful treats from the around the world (many developed in the test kitchens of entrepeneurial incubator La Cocina), transporting your taste buds to the far reaches of yumminess. The festival can get crazy crowded, so to help you out, here’s a list of some fave vendors to make a beeline for:


Alicia’s Tamales Los Mayas
– It’s partially that you’ll fall in love with Alicia, who will call you “mi cariño,” but it’s also that her delectable homemade tamales are out of this world, stuffed with pork, chicken or cheese and slathered in fresh salsa verde. You can’t go wrong with this corny bundles of love.

Minnie Bells’ Soul Movement – Think fried chicken and mac and cheese. Really good soul food, simple and delicious. Never tasted such flavorful gumbo!

Chiefo’s Kitchen – Chiefo cooks wonderful West African cuisine, that’s spicy and filled with exotic flavors. Try her mini moi-moi, a savory cake made with blended black eyed peas and topped with a crispy piece of meat.

Global Soul – Here’s the deal. I was handed a piece of meat on a toothpick, dripping in fat and it was the best thing ever. You know you want that too.

Azalina’s – “I love deep frying things!” declared Azalina. And she’s not joking! But what I love about her snacks is that yes, they are perfectly fried and golden, but then layered with roasted meats, fresh veggies and topped with a hot pink raspberry. So unique and beautiful!

Neo Cocoa – Save room for dessert! Christine from Neo Cocoa will be serving up chocolate truffle brownies, layered with such decadent fillings as almond butter.

Appetite: Southern taste adventures in Louisville, KY

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Kentucky: land of bourbon, the Derby and Mint Juleps. I’m ever delighted to return to the South, although I’m connected to some areas more than others (ah, New Orleans, my love). I recently spent a week in Louisville, on the judging panel for ADI’s (American Distilling Institute) annual awards. It was an honor to judge with key spirits and cocktail industry folk, spending days tasting (blind, of course) through the latest in a broad range of small US craft spirits – winners here.

In my off time, I roamed Louisville, from downtown to Bardstown Road. Louisville is a small city, not exactly visually beautiful or dense like other US cities, but its distinctly Kentuckian treasures do unfold. The historic Brown Hotel was my home base, its player piano welcoming me with strains of Gershwin and old world elegance in the beautiful lobby.

I’m an American whiskey girl at heart (although I love all spirits), being in bourbon and rye’s epicenter is invigorating, even if I can find the region’s most rare, small batch spirits in my own city. A unique preview came in an early peek at Distilled Spirits Epicenter, shortly before it opened, essentially a distillery “for rent,” where would-be distillers have their visions crafted, try out test batches, or take classes to learn more about distilling. It was founded by David Defoe of Flavorman, a scientific flavor lab that creates sodas, juices and beverage products for numerous companies. My favorite feature is the upstairs apartment which they offer to guests using their facilities as they create a product: it’s an open, brick-walled apartment upstairs in the Flavorman building.

Here are highlights from my travels in food, cocktails, whiskey and unexpectedly the most incredible beer collection I’ve ever seen.

SERGIO’s WORLD OF BEERS
If you can find Sergio’s World of Beers (no, it’s not the dive bar next door), you will walk into an unmarked space and could wait 10 minutes for someone to even come out. I was immediately impressed by the selection of beers lining the dingy front room packed with boxes and glasses. Beer aficionados will freak out over the options available on tap. Numerous rotating beers range from Italian sours to a bourbon barrel rarity made by a guy down the street.

Sergio Ribenboim himself is an avid beer collector (read Imbibe magazine’s article about him last year). With one of the most exhaustive collections in the world, he leads tours of breweries around the globe. After the joys of the front room are uncovered, one realizes they haven’t seen anything. Stocking the halls and back rooms (not to mention Sergio’s home) are over 1000 beers for purchase from every region of the globe, including first editions of cult favorites and rarities, such as a Belgian beer, Smisje Calva Reserva, aged in Calvados barrels.

The humble shop is a beer lovers paradise, every unassuming foot of it. The Renaissance Man – the avid beer fan in my home – and I planned to stop in for 30 minutes but ended up staying over 3 hours. We chatted with Sergio and obsessed beer lovers who dropped in from all over the country, those who, like us, will make Sergio’s a must-stop whenever we’re in Kentucky.

HARVEST
To date, Harvest is my favorite Louisville restaurant. It’s the usual farm-to-table concept, long the standard where I live and more common in recent years around the country. The walls are covered with large black and white photos of Kentucky farmers who supply Harvest’s ingredients.

Here the concept invigorates local classics like the Hot Brown (see Brown Hotel’s English Grill below) in a Hot Brown pizza ($14), a brilliant twist on a local classic. Or burgoo ($16), a Southern stew laden with rabbit, pork and chicken, fresh with snow pea sprouts. Its one flaw was being far too salty so that the heartwarming bowl started to feel “one note” after a few bites.

After a starter of a pretzel bun dipped in addictive amber ale beer cheese sauce ($7) and solid cocktails utilizing house bitters, syrups and tinctures, not to mention engaging service and a manager walking the floor ensuring all of us were satisfied, I found Harvest a “whole package” kind of dining destination. No wonder they were nominated for a James Beard award this year for Best New Restaurant.

BROWN HOTEL’S ENGLISH GRILL
The Hot Brown ($22) is one of Kentucky’s signature dishes, created in 1926 at the Brown Hotel’s English Grill by chef Fred Schmidt. When bored with traditional ham and eggs, he opted for roasted turkey breast over toast points topped with bacon and tomatoes, then slathered it all in Mornay sauce (butter, milk, Parmesan, egg, cream). If that weren’t enough, it’s baked golden brown in Parmesan cheese. Brilliant. Eaten in its home base, the old world elegance of the English Grill, it’s every bit as decadent, gooey, rich, meaty and fabulous as it sounds.

MEAT
Hands-down, the best bar of my visit to Louisville was Meat – and Jared was the best bartender. We lingered for hours, till 3am, watching thunderstorms pass, filling paper bags with their revolving turntable of free snacks, a genius addition of unending servings, including Trader Joe’s favorites from mustard pretzels to peanut butter stuffed pretzels.

Jared joked and flirted with customers from the oval bar at the center of a brick-walled space tucked away upstairs in the back of a building that once housed a butchery in the trendy Butchertown neighborhood. Butcher tools and meats hang in the entrance, while the dim, glowing room is a romantic space filled with couches and comfy nooks.

The menu states, “We love the Prohibition-era cocktail movement. We love Louisville.” Instead of exactly copying big city bars, their mission is to “serve authentic and inventive beverages with a distinctly Louisvillian sense of place.” They list recipes from favorite bartenders around the world alongside house creations (all $10), while Jared whips up some off-menu beauties, including an effervescent mix of Del Maguey mezcal with Moet Imperial champagne.

One of the most delightfully unique menu offerings is a Viking 75. The Nordic twist on a French 75 uses Taffel aquavit, Cynar, house sour mix, demarara syrup and lingonberry jam with Bott Geyl Cremant d’Alsace. Upscale tacky plays well in The Queen’s Tea: Pimm’s, Hendrick’s gin, Campari, Dewar’s Scotch, Chartreuse, lemon, and, yes, 7-Up.

Puerto Rican Wingman was another favorite: Ron Zacapa Solera and Bacardi rums blend with orange curacao and lime into a bright whole where house falernum adds nutty texture, coffee bitters an earthy kick, Abita root beer a punchy finish. Another winner? Hit the smoky side with The Smoke Monster: Ardbeg 10yr Scotch, Vya sweet vermouth, Grand Marnier, orange juice, grenadine, celery seed bitters.

Whatever you order, don’t miss Meat.

HILLBILLY TEA
Hillbilly Tea is a funky, hipster version of Appalachia circa turn-of-the-century. In a gorgeous restored building, two levels of brick walls, rustic wood floors, ’70s rocking chairs, 1800s sewing machines, picnic tables and quilts set a comfortable tone for rounds of tea served on slices of a tree trunk. We sipped aromatic, herbal, mint-inflected Snap green tea ($3.75) and Sweet Smokey Mountain chai boiled with milk and sugar ($4.75) – a little sweet for me (we’re in the South, after all, where “sweet tea” means sweet). I found Twig ($3.75) most soothing: a nutty, toasted green tea.

Brunch is a fun affair, whether a skillet pancake ($8) lathered in Smokey Mountain chai butter and sorghum syrup, or white bean and sage fritters ($5). I particularly enjoyed pork and pone ($8), a mound of BBQ pulled pork on corn pone with garlic mayo, red cabbage chow chow, and choice of side – I opted for healthy braised greens. They serve a tasty biscuit ($3), even better with local honey and a dreamy house-cured bacon ($5). In the locally sourced foods vein with young, hip servers, Hillbilly Tea delivers substance alongside style.

DOC CROW’S

Spacious, extensive Doc Crow’s is a historic, 1880′s downtown Louisville space, particularly charming in the cozy, middle booth section or open back room with wood floors and fireplaces. The menu is a fun range of some of my Southern favorites, heavy on BBQ and oysters, also offering Po Boys, fried green tomatoes, mac n’ cheese, fried catfish and gumbo. Not all of it is the best version possible, but cornmeal fried catfish with hush puppies ($9), for example is generously portioned and satisfying, as are slow-smoked, baby back ribs ($12 1/2 rib, $22 full rib).

Key Lime Pie ($6) is not as tart as my favorite renditions (still remembering Uncle Bubba’s outside Charleston), while seasoned pork rinds ($4) taste great with a boozy lemonade but aren’t comparable to SF’s own cult classic – the best chicharrones I’ve ever had from the South to Mexico – 4505 Meats‘ chicharrones. Overall, Doc Crow’s is a fine downtown choice for value, with large portions, heartwarming food, and a welcoming, all-day space.

GARAGE ON MARKET
The building alone draws one into Garage on Market: a restored gas station with two cars melded together on the front drive, and a picnic table area with astro turf-covered seating under strung white lights. Serving brick oven-cooked pizzas, like the Monte Cristo ($14 – smoked chicken, gouda, egg, sorghum, preserves) or on the sweet side, Nutella Pie ($12 – nutella, banana, cinnamon sugar, butter, syrup), the Garage offers a playful, casual menu and regional country hams.

Brunch is the likes of beignets, poached eggs and ham, with drinks like a Red Hot Bitter ($7): local Red Hot Roasters espresso, chocolate milk, Kahlua, Bailey’s, and chocolate bitters. The cocktail menu in general appeals to cocktail fans while keeping that same approachable, unfussy tone.

PROOF ON MAIN

When it comes to Louisville, the restaurant and bar that almost always comes up is Proof on Main. Inside the 21c Hotel one is immediately impressed by its modern art museum. The dining room makes a statement with dramatic artwork and upholstered seats. But despite how long I’ve heard raves, disappointment set in immediately at the bar with a diffident, seemingly bored bartender who stood off to the side of the bar mixing drinks, only talking to servers vs. interacting with customers – and this was at the mellow hour of 5:30pm with a half empty bar.

The bartender acted as if he was doing us a favor serving an ok round of cocktails from a menu that in the end felt typical. For those of us who travel the world in search of the best food and drink, cocktails should stand on their own, yes, but service sets apart a menu that reads well from a destination-worthy bar. Ordering whiskey pours was the best way to go (we opted for Woodford Reserve’s rye duo), but in terms of the hundreds of top notch bars I’ve visited around the world, I wouldn’t return to Proof.

Once we moved to the dining room, service was friendly and gratifying, redeeming the experience. The food menu is a stimulating mix of modern creativity with Southern ingredients, but at high prices (starters are $8-21, entrees $18-34) I was disappointed in more than one dish, starting with a dry charred octopus ($15) with bagna cauda and lime.

Striped mullet ($27) sounded like a fishy/meaty melange of mussels, fennel, country ham, rutabaga, almonds, and smoked grapefruit but ultimately felt disjointed. The beloved Proof bison burger ($17), which more than half the restaurant seemed to order, piled high with Tillamook cheddar, smoked bacon, Jezebel sauce (a wonderful Southern mix of pineapple preserves, apple jelly, horseradish, mustard, black pepper), was cooked more medium than my medium rare request. I couldn’t help but recall the countless delectable gourmet burgers (whether bison or beef) I’ve had for under $15.

A standout dish was Bison marrow bones ($12), fatty and delectable, smartly paired with apple butter and frisee on toast. For cost to value/taste ratio, I’d recommend visiting the hotel’s museum, then heading on to Harvest or another locale for dinner and drinks.

CELLAR DOOR CHOCOLATES

A local chocolatier, Cellar Door Chocolates, produces crave-worthy sea salt peanut butter dark chocolate cups available at shops like The Wine Market http://www.thewinemarket.net/ on Bardstown Road. Buying a four-pack to sample, I promptly finished each one.

RYE BAR

Rye had just opened in February when I was in Louisville on a hip stretch of Market Street. Young bartenders in a sleek space were looking up recipes in Jim Meehan’s PDT Cocktail Book, slowly crafting drinks requested by guests or on menu. At the time, they seemed not quote yet ready for “prime time”, but served decent standards like a Mezcal Mule or Dark & Stormy (with Ron Zacapa 23 rum), or tongue-in-cheek drinks like The Shit ($9): Plymouth gin, chile-lime syrup, Prosecco.

One of my drinking companions, a well-known distiller, requested a Whiskey Sour with egg white and Whistlepig 10 year Rye (which they pour at $19 a glass) – it was easily the best drink I had here, bright and refreshing. Just mentioned in Food & Wine, this bar should get progressively better as the staff gain a more seamless knowledge of the menu and what they want to offer to customers.

SEELBACH BAR
The Seelbach is a piece of Louisville history dating back nearly 100 years. A dated respite of a bar inside a hotel, it offers an impressive range of bourbons and ryes, including a couple you won’t find outside of Kentucky, like a special Seelbach bottling from 1983 of Rathskeller Rye: a true treat, vibrant and boozy at cask strength. 

JOCKEY SILKS
With over 120 whiskies, Jockey Silks is a hotel bar offering a quiet, dated bar (think lots of wood and red, circa 1970’s) in which to sip a range of bourbons, from “deluxe” pours at $10, premium at $9, or most glasses at $8. It’s affordable and relaxing, a classic Louisville bourbon respite.

THE WINE MARKET OF LOUISVILLE AND OLD TOWN WINE AND SPIRITS
The Wine Market is a small but well-curated selection of wines from Alsace to Bordeaux with friendly staff in a funky, cool building with appealing wording (“weird, independent, proud”) covering the exterior wall. It seems to be Bardstown Road’s finest wine shop. Stronger on the spirits and beer front with a badass drive-through window is Old Town Wine and Spirits – they offer an affordable, wide-ranging selection.

QUILLS COFFEE
I felt right back at home with third wave coffee, excellently roasted beans and proper foam on my cappuccino at Quills Coffee (with two Louisville locations), which appears to be Louisville’s best artisan coffee.

As has long been commonplace on the West Coast and only gained traction in recent years in NY and places East, this hipster coffee haven is full of artists and students on laptops, with chemex and locally roasted beans hailing from Africa to South America.

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