Bay Guardian Archives

Shades of green

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› news@sfbg.com
An assembly of the nation’s premier green architects, engineers, academics, and policy makers was gathered Sept. 28 in the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium, patiently awaiting a keynote address from Mayor Gavin Newsom. The speech was supposed to inaugurate this year’s West Coast Green, the largest residential green building conference in the country.
But the anticipation of the crowd quickly turned to ill humor when it was announced that the mayor had decided to attend another event instead — the grand opening of the biggest Bloomingdale’s west of the Continental Divide.
“I knew it!” one woman at West Coast Green lamented. “I knew he wouldn’t come.”
“He’s at Bloomingdale’s,” another chided.
Newsom spokesperson Peter Ragone said the mayor believed he was scheduled to speak at the conference Sept. 30, and he did. But that was a day for the general public to come and learn about the frontiers of green building. By then, many of the disgruntled architects and planners had already left.
“I have to say that we are all full of contradictions, and we would not be here today unless we were,” said Jim Chace, the director of Pacific Gas and Electric’s Pacific Energy Center, who spoke in the mayor’s slot Sept. 28.
“I promised I wouldn’t take any shots [at Newsom], but this should not be so easy,” Chace continued cheerily. “The fact is that there’s a contradiction here, and contradictions are just a sign in our lives that it is time to look at change.”
Newsom has regularly touted San Francisco as a leader in the emerging field of green building. But the conference and the mayor’s speech snafu raise the question of where the city really stands when it comes to building — not just talking about — green structures.
Green architecture starts with common sense. It’s about properly orienting buildings to the sun and the wind, making sure that insulation actually insulates, and using recycled material instead of finite or environmentally harmful ones.
But in the eyes of industry and government professionals, a building isn’t officially considered green until it passes a national rating system known as Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design, or LEED. Buildings that earn enough credits get one of four LEED ratings: certified, silver, gold, or best of all, putf8um.
When it comes to LEED certified buildings, San Francisco can claim just seven, three of which belong to green architecture firms. That puts the city in fifth place, behind Pittsburgh, Pa. (8); Atlanta (10); Portland, Ore. (11); and Seattle (14).
“There really isn’t much,” Fred Stitt, founder and director of the San Francisco Institute of Architecture, told the Guardian. “About three years ago, I wanted to organize a tour of green buildings in San Francisco, and I couldn’t find any.”
That was before the work had begun on the LEED gold Federal Building and the LEED putf8um Academy of Sciences, which Stitt called “a masterpiece.” Nonetheless, he said San Francisco’s reputation as a driver of the green building movement was undeserved.
“Everyone thinks that Berkeley is a liberal bastion,” Stitt said. “But if you live here, it’s just a Midwestern town with a bunch of homeless people…. San Francisco’s reputation is manufactured the same way.”
Certainly some other cities are doing as much, if not more than San Francisco. This city’s most important green building ordinance requires all new municipal buildings larger than 5,000 square feet to meet LEED silver standards. Yet there are no requirements or incentives for the private sector to build green in San Francisco.
Santa Monica also requires government buildings to be green, but it offers grants up to $35,000 for LEED certified buildings, including those in the private sector. In addition, Santa Monica requires most developers to incorporate four kinds of recycled material into their buildings and to recycle at least 60 percent of their construction and demolition waste.
Likewise, Portland, Ore., was just voted America’s most sustainable city in the 2006 SustainLane Rankings, largely because of its attitude toward green building. Beyond its 11 LEED certified buildings, Portland is brimming with small natural structures like benches and kiosks made from clay, sand, and straw. The city also boasts an entire community of sustainable homes for the homeless, known as Dignity Village.
“Their natural building has totally transformed the spirit of their community, and it feels different than if you walk through Oakland or San Francisco,” Marisha Farnsworth, an architect with the Natural Builders in Oakland, told the Guardian. “I got together with some architects, builders, and designers, and all of us said, ‘Wouldn’t it be great to have city planners come down from Portland and explain to our officials what’s going on up there?’”
That isn’t to say officials in San Francisco have completely missed the memo. The San Francisco Department of the Environment just finished negotiations with the Department of Building Inspection for a new priority permitting program set to be rolled out in the coming weeks. It would allow developers who pledge to build green to get fast-tracked through the bureaucratic morass of the city’s permitting process.
Department of the Environment officials have also worked to reduce the amount of time and money it takes to get a rooftop solar permit. And with the opening of the Orchard Garden Hotel at Union Square on Oct. 12, San Francisco will soon become the first city in the country with a LEED certified hotel.
The point of West Coast Green was to ask how this city and the rest of the country can do more. Should we offer rebates for efficiency consultants to assess how energy is being wasted in our homes and businesses? Can the city offer larger incentives to the private sector or require more rigorous standards for developers? Should PG&E be pressured into pledging more of its public benefit money toward green building?
“Green architecture is still very much emerging,” Eric Corey Freed, one of San Francisco’s top green architects and a host at West Coast Green, told the Guardian. “And although San Francisco is the capital, even here it hasn’t reached the point of ubiquity that we expect it to. We’re still very much in our adolescence. We’re like teenagers with pimples and crackly voices.”
In 100 years, Freed added, history will likely look back on our time as the era of the green revolution. If he is right, perhaps San Francisco will have done enough to be deemed a nucleus of the movement — and important conferences like West Coast Green will take priority over the opening of new shopping malls. SFBG

Pot. Kettle. Black.

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By Steven T. Jones
District 6 supervisorial candidate Rob Black called a press conference this afternoon to accuse incumbent Sup. Chris Daly of “illegal campaigning.” The charges involve the letters that Daly and other supervisors send to their constituents. Frankly, I don’t have time right now to fully get into all the dimensions of this incident, which is rich with good color and hypocrisy. I’ll spin the full tale for y’all tomorrow. But for now, suffice it to say that the City Attorney’s Office — which Daly checked with before sending out the letters in batches of less than 200 each — doesn’t think this is illegal. That’s point one. Point two is that desperate candidates calling for a Fair Political Practices Commission investigation during the height of an election is trite, transparent, and downright cliche. But the third point is the most important. Black is a candidate that has benefitted mightly from a series of unethical, deceptive, expensive, and probably illegal attacks on Daly, many of which were orchestrated by Black’s mentor and former boss, campaign attorney Jim Sutton. These are attacks that Black has refused to fully condemn or disassociate himself from. So that’s what made today’s press conference not just ironic, but downright amusing. Check back tomorrow when I’ll have more, including good links to much of the above so you don’t just have to accept my perspective on the situation.

DARK DAYS

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by Amanda Witherell

Despite the liberal signing spree that’s left most of the Dems in the state giddy with success, the guv dropped his darkened Terminator-era specs over open government by vetoing Mark Leno’s AB2927. The bill, which had unanimous approval from the House and Senate, would have improved online services for public records requests on all state agency websites, including a simple form to fill out and file electronically. It also would have allowed citizens with denied requests to appeal to the Attorney General for a review and written decision within 20 days. In a press release, Scwarzenegger said that task would be too burdensome for Lockyer’s office, and that because the Attorney General already advises state agencies who may have denied the requests, it would be a conflict of interest.

Cal Aware lawyer and open government expert Terry Franke, pointed out that anyone who read the bill would see that the Attorney General would have the right to request a 30-day extension to the response time in the case of an “unmanageable workload.” In addition, if the denial came from the Attorney General or the Department of Justice, members of the offices not involved with the original decision would be mandated to respond to the review. Also, attorney-client privilege would have trumped this bill, effectively dealing wtih the conflict of interest issue.

This bill really would have just simplified a process and added a layer of unbiased scrutiny to attempts to undermine the public’s right to know.

This is the fourth time a bill of this sort has been vetoed. Stay tuned for round five…

Youth and Dan Kelly

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By Tim Redmond

Peter Lauterborn, former member of the San Francisco Youth Commission, weighs in on the School Board race at BeyondChron. His message: It’s time for Dan Kelly to go.

More on Prop. 90

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By Tim Redmond

Interesting item in the Califonria Progress Report about the unsually broad coalition that’s come together to oppose prop. 90 — and the very narrow well-funded interests behind it.

You can find out more about this hideous measure here.

Bongmania and Perverse Penance: Vancouver International Film Festival, Days 3 & 4

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The weekend is a time for perversion and penance, so what better way to begin mine at the Vancouver International Film Festival than with The Pervert’s Guide to Cinema, a Slavoj Zizek-guided psychoanalytic tour through the works of Alfred Hitchcock, David Lynch, and others? And what could be a more monastic way to end the weekend than with the devotional cinema of Jacques Rivette’s 12-plus hour long Out 1: Noli me tangere? In between, I caught Shortbus and witnessed the full frenzy of a Beatlemania-like response to Bong Joon-ho and his totally awesome monster flick The Host.

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NOISE: BENEFIT

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Hey friends,
We’re playing a show at thee Parkside this Wednesday to help raise funds for Bordertown Skate Park. In case you’re unfamiliar with the park and its story, it started in ’04 with local skaters pouring concrete under the 580 in West Oakland and is now a fully legit nonprofit organization. It’s on it’s way to becoming a truly epic park has been a hugely positive influence on the community, but they need help to see it through.

We’ll be joined by Clay Wheels and River of Rust, so, yeah, we’re keepin’ it real with a full-on skate rock bill. Hope you can join us.

Cheers,
Mike

Bordertown Benefit at thee Parkside
Clay Wheels
AM Magic
River of Rust

6 bucks
Wednesday, October 4
8pm

http://www.supersm.com/cwphotos.html
http://www.ammagicmusic.com/photos.html (or the one attached)

River of rust might have something on myspace:
http://www.myspace.com/riverofrust

also little stephen’s show with magic christian

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Ku Klux Kuties

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Ok, this may have nothing especially to do with San Francisco particularly — but what a Halloween treat, courtesy of Martha Stewart herself. My new email buddy DJ Bus Station John has dived into Martha Stewart Living magazine and come up with some fabulously entertaining entertaining tips from the Big Blonde Jailbait. These, I suspect, are meant to be ghosts.

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But come on!

The loneliness of the long-distance runner

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Documentaries are taking over my life. Lately, everything I wanna watch is either true or the next best thing. So it was only a matter of time before I’d cross paths with Docurama, a DVD label that handles documentaries exclusively. Good ones, too, including The Staircase, about a high-profile murder trial in my home state of North Carolina. My big plans for the near future are to sit down and watch The Staircase in its entirety (all six hours of it — seriously, y’all, this is the shit that curls my toes). I caught a few grisly, gripping segments during its Sundance Channel airings. Good times.

Docurama’s most inspired venture is its Docurama Film Festival — the idea is, they “program” a film fest in the form of a DVD collection available for purchase. Then you and your housemates and the family dog can hole up and watch ’em at your leisure. The fest’s second go-round is out now, and the line-up includes some real keepers.

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Google’s dog and pony show

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By Steven T. Jones
First, Mayor Gavin Newsom tapped his buddies at Google (in partnership with Earthlink) to build a citywide wireless system that would be free to city residents. It was a move that was done without full sunshine and it pissed off some information activists like Media Alliance, but the Department of Telecommunication and Information Services has since conducted a more open and diligent negotiations process with the companies. That caused Google to grouse to the Chron that the city was dragging its feet. So Sup. Jake McGoldrick decided maybe the city should be looking at doing a municipal wifi system instead, which he’s having the budget analyst study (if the board approves study this week) and report back on by the end of the year. That’s also when DTIS expects to have a final deal with Google/Earthlink — and when a consultant’s study on municipal broadband (that’s fiber rather than wifi) is due back. Well, with all this possibility swirling, Google and Earthlink have now announed a series of town hall meeting from now until the end of the year. Game on! Their press release follows:

World Wide Web: Vancouver International Film Festival, Day Two

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My second day at the Vancouver International Film Festival brought white lines of thin girls, silent film shadows, a Unabomber web, and American telemarketing Mubai-style. But before all that, it might be best to begin with life outside the movie theater. It does exist, after all, even if film festival obsessiveness sometimes make it easy to forget.

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Really scary

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By Tim Redmond

I had a really scary moment tonight.

it started well — I was moderating a discussion on immigration politics at New College, featuring Justin Akers Chacon, who has written a new book called “Nobody is Illegal.” Renee Saucedo, a longtime advocate for immigrants and day laborers, was on the panel, too, and we had a great discussion — until the very end, when Saucedo starting talking about how she was trying to build coalitions between immigrants and African Americans in Bayview Hunters Point, organizing around opposition in that neighborhood the the redevelopment plan.

And out of nowhere, she urged everyone to vote yes on Proposition 90.

For the record, Prop. 90 is almost indescribably horrible. It’s a radical right wing property-rights measure that would instantly halt any new environmental laws, any new rent-control laws, any new workplace safety laws, any new zoning laws, any limits on evictions or condo coversions … it would effectively stop government regulation of private property in California.

So why was Saucedo, a smart lawyer and strong progressive, supporting it? Because Willie Ratcliff, the publisher of the San Francisco Bay View, and Marie Harrison, a candidate for supervisor from District 10, are so dead-set against redevevelopment that they’ve signed on with the worst of the right-wing nuts in the state to endorse a measure that claims to be limiting eminent domain but is so much, much more.

I’ve discussd this with Harrison; she totally doesn’t get it. Neither, for now, does Renee Saucedo. I understand their fear of redevelopment seizing people’s homes — and I understand Saucedo’s desire to build ties with and follow the lead of African American community leaders. But get a clue, my friends. This is embarassing.

If people like Renee Saucedo are getting duped into supporting the worst law to come along in California since Prop. 13, we’re in serious trouble.

No more Will and Willie

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By Tim Redmond
I showed up Thursday morning of the Clear Channel studios on Townsend Street to appear on KQKE’s morning talk show, Keepin’ it Real with WIll and Willie, featuring comedian Will Durst and former Mayor Willie Brown, and the producer met me at the door with some sad news: The show had been cancelled, summarily. Two more days on the air. As of Monday morning, the Will and Willie show would be gone.

I’m told the show had a decent (if not stellar) listener base, and was making money. But not enough money — the way Clear Channel sees things, it’s entirely about the bottom line. So the locally produced show that actually took on local issues will be replaced with The Stephanie Miller Show, a syndicated program out of L.A. I’m sure the show is great, and funny and everything else that a lot of Air American programming is — but it’s not about San Francisco. It’s not local.

Once upon a time — and it wasn’t really all that long ago — local radio stations had at least some responsibility to cover local news and issues. Now the Quake, like the rest of the local Clear Channel line up, will have no real local anything, except traffic.

I never thought I’d say this, but we’ll miss you, Willie Brown.

Green as in money or green as in the environment?

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By Andrew Tolve
For a politician who often projects himself as environmentally conscious, Mayor Gavin Newsom dealt his reputation a blow Thursday when he missed his keynote address at West Coast Green, the largest residential green building conference in the country. Mayoral spokesperson Peter Ragone told us Newsom had planned to speak Saturday and did. But the fact that he missed the slot printed in the schedule chafed more than a few in the audience.
Nearly 7,000 architects, contractors, developers, and policy makers have arrived in San Francisco for the weekend conference (Sept. 28-30), many of whom were left searching for answers on Thursday when the event’s inaugural speech at the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium was left unspoken.
It turned out Mayor Newsom was just a few blocks away, celebrating the opening of San Francisco’s new Bloomingdale’s instead.
“I have to say that we are all full of contradictions, and we would not be here today unless we were,” said Jim Chace, director of PG&E’s Pacific Energy Center. Despite Chace’s commendable record with environmental issues, the fact that a PG&E representative was making the announcement only heightened the irony of the moment. “I promised I wouldn’t take any shots (at the Mayor), but this should not be so easy,” Chace continued. “The fact is that there’s a contradiction here, and contradictions are just a sign in our lives that it is time to look at change.”
The Mayor’s absence aside, embracing change is the fixture of this year’s West Coast Green Conference. Presentations about the feasibility and the implementation of green building techniques will continue Friday and Saturday at the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium. Saturday the event is open to the public.
“Clearly there’s nothing more powerful than an idea whose time has come,” said Christi Graham, the event’s founder and executive producer. “I do think that we might look back one day and recognize the impact of our gathering here.”

Compassionate crackdown

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By Steven T. Jones
Mayor Gavin Newsom has been flailing this year, so apparently he’s going back to what’s worked politically for him before: cracking down on the homeless. This week, he ordered police and other city staffers to place notices around Golden Gate Park warning the homeless to move on or have their stuff confiscated. His flack Peter Ragone yesterday bristled when I used the word “crackdown” and insisted that this was simply a social service outreach. “We will not ask a person to leave the park without offering then a place to go,” he told me. But when I pointed out that the city doesn’t have nearly enough social service or shelter spots for the hundreds of homeless in the park — and that the posted notices seem to be more of a threat than an offer — he said that he’d have to check with Trent Rhorer (the architect of the mayor’s get-tough homeless policies) and get back to me. He never did. Yet homeless advocates and civil rights groups (including the ACLU and Lawyers’ Committee for Civil Rights) sent the city a letter calling the crackdown illegal, unconstitutional, and counterproductive. (Download a copy of the letter here. Hit the back button to return to this blog entry.)

And it isn’t just happening in Golden Gate Park. As we’ve been hearing and the Chron reported today, city cops are also apparently rousting the poor and homeless from around the newly opened Westfield Mall. And this stuff certainly isn’t new, but more like the MO of this administration: act like you care deeply about the homeless while quieting forcing them from the city.
Compassion there too? When will Newsom, Ragone, and the rest of this disingenuous administration realize that their actions speak far louder than their words?

Cat’s Eye: Vancouver International Film Fest, Day One

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Toronto presents North America’s mad mad mad world fall film fest option, while Vancouver gives post-Hollywood cinemaniacs a quieter, more contemplative choice. Thanks to Tony Rayns, who is marking his last year of programming the Vancouver International Film Festival’s Dragons & Tigers section and competition, the fest has blazed trails: directors such as Hirokazu Kore-Eda and Jia Zhangke have won early and influential awards here. But there are other secrets about VIFF. One irony: it might be a better showcase of independent movies from the US than any actual US fest. Experimental features and documentaries that move beyond issue-based hectoring thrive here.

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The final frontier

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› cheryl@sfbg.com
Ask Aron Ranen about his filmmaking philosophy, and he won’t pause long. “I’m a reality surfer. Things pop up as I’m quote-unquote traveling around the world with my camera.”
When he says “pop up,” he ain’t kidding. While attempting to uncover the truth about the Apollo 11 moon landing in Did We Go? (which screened in 2000 at New York’s Museum of Modern Art), Ranen stumbled upon the fact that the magnetic tapes used to record the 1969 event had gone missing. This peculiar nugget resurfaced in the news lately, generating enough buzz beyond the conspiracy fringes to nudge NASA into a response via its Web site: “Despite the challenges of the search, NASA does not consider the tapes to be lost.”
A month ago Ranen appeared on CNN to discuss the controversy. Host Glenn Beck tried awfully hard to paint the doc maker as a wackjob; the segment ends with a joke likening those who believe the moon landing was faked to those who are “still wondering why Darrin One was mysteriously replaced by Darrin Two.” This kind of reaction doesn’t seem to bother Ranen, who between movies teaches digital filmmaking at DV Workshops, the school he runs out of his Mission District studio.
“My motto is film the obvious,” he explains. (Later in our conversation he expands that motto to include “trust reality … and also don’t fuck it up.”) “I’m just trying to illuminate some of the things that are going on in our culture.” Did We Go? is actually not a wackjob’s manifesto; it features interviews with Apollo 11 flight director Gene Krantz and astronaut Buzz Aldrin — as well as the NASA employee who physically closed the hatch on the rocket before its launch. The film doesn’t try to discredit the moon landing; it tries, with sincerity, to prove that it actually happened. (In other words, there’s a reason it’s not titled We Didn’t Go.)
A filmmaker since he was 13, Ranen has made so many short documentaries that he’s lost count. Over the years the self-funded artist has developed his own approach to shooting. His films are generally unstructured — expecting the unexpected — and are guided by Ranen’s first-person voice-overs, delivered in a tone that hovers between curiosity and amazement.
“Everyone trusts me and talks to me in my films,” he says. It’s a claim backed up by the openness displayed by his diverse array of subjects, many of whom Ranen meets on the fly. His film Power and Control: LSD in the 60s — a tangent-riddled exploration of the drug’s influence on politics and counterculture — features chats with an ex–Stanford University researcher whose simian LSD tests earned him the nickname “Monkey Mike” and a now-elderly professor who was among the Harvard students who participated in Timothy Leary’s 1962 Good Friday experiment. Ranen attributes this kind of access to his lone gunman style.
“I refuse to let anyone go with me. I believe so much of documentary is about the relationship between the filmmaker and the subject. I don’t want a crew or a sound man to mitigate my relationships with these subjects,” he explains. “When I’m talking to someone, you can see their enthusiasm in talking to me.”
Ranen’s go-with-the-flow methodology extends to postproduction. He “edits organically,” subscribing to what he calls “the pinball effect: as you’re watching it, the edit speaks to you and says, no, take that stuff in the middle and put it up front.” He’s also not opposed to altering his films after they are finished. Power and Control screened as a 70-minute feature at the 2005 San Francisco Independent Film Festival; the version at Other Cinema this weekend hovers closer to 40 minutes. Eventually, Ranen hopes to add a chapter exploring the possible LSD-KGB connection.
His most recent film, Black Hair, is also his most widely seen, thanks to a strategy of free distribution via YouTube. The doc, which Ranen says has been viewed some 100,000 times, delves into the racial and economic issues raised by the fact that most of the black hair-care industry’s retail and wholesale markets are controlled by Korean, not African American, businesspeople.
Ranen’s film inspired Bay Area hair-product manufacturer Sam Ennon to found the Black Owned Beauty Supply Association, or BOBSA, now a national organization aimed at what Ennon calls “reorganizing the whole industry in terms of the distribution channel. It’s not that we want to run the Koreans out of business — we just want to share in the business. We want to recirculate the black dollar.”
Ennon says Black Hair gave BOBSA’s cause a major assist. “A picture speaks better than words. The film is really what turned it completely around.”
It’s all in a day’s work for Ranen, who seems to attract unexpected spontaneity and the not-occasional weird coincidence. His DV Workshops was funded with a settlement he received after learning that Nine Inch Nails had sampled one of his films without permission. The dialogue snippet, taken from Ranen’s film Religion in Suburbia, just happened to include this phrase: “do you believe in miracles?” SFBG
POWER AND CONTROL:
LSD IN THE 60S
Sat/30, 8:30 p.m.
Artists’ Television Access
992 Valencia, SF
$5
(415) 824-3890
www.atasite.org
www.dvworkshops.com

NOISE: Kingdom come

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Oh, the places we’ll go, the shows we’ll see, the drinks that will send us under tables at all the finest dive bars in the Bay Area.

Tonight, there’s much happening on the Quannum front — with label artists Honeycut, Tommy Guerrero, and Curumin holding it down at Mezzanine — and at the Lab as Asian American arts fest APAture continues (with Sheela Bringi, Echo of Bullets, Power Struggle, and others) and at popscene as the Dears smash all comers. Additionally you gots indie rock: Viva Voce, the Silversun Pickups, and the Kingdom at Rickshaw Stop. Several of us round the Guardian have been enjoying the adenoidal whinny of Kingdom vocalist Charles Westmoreland, last heard on the band’s debut, K1 (Arena Rock). An acquired taste? A pretentious name? Sprightly pop swathed in violins, synth, and guitars from NYC? Why not?

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The Kingdom is the name; don’t wear it out. Photo by Chuck Westmoreland

27 cocks, 4 circle jerks, and a Human Urinal: The Almost Fabulous Intern goes to Folsom

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Because I simply can’t stand virgins (something about their Winnie the Pooh pyjamas), I sent my leather virgin intern, the one and only Justin Juul, to the Folsom Street Fair to record his experiences. This is what I had to do to make Folsom shocking again — at least to someone. He returned with a message of love. And maybe the clap. Read on … –Marke B.

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Sorry Marke, I know I promised, but I just couldn’t do it. No matter how many beers I drank, I could not get comfortable with the idea of going out in public clad in my hastily thrown together leather costume. What would my poor mother think for God’s sake? And what would my marine-corps father do if he knew? Would he stop giving me money to finish school? Would he shun me for the rest of his days? With all these thoughts swirling in my paranoid little mind I came up with a logical alternative -a leather barbecue! I would still attend the day’s festivities, of course; I just wouldn’t be showing off all my skinny white boy stuff. What follows is an account of The Almost Fabulous Intern’s first leather festival.

Pixies stick

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A smiling Kim Deal holds up a T-shirt with “Pixies Sellout” emblazoned across the back. “Where did you get the inspiration?” she asks guitarist Joey Santiago, who named the band’s comeback tour. “’Cause we sold out in minutes!” he offers sans irony. Santiago might not be in on the joke (somewhat inexplicably), but for the rest of us the subtext is clear. Sure, the Pixies are now well into middle age and showing it, but to claim these indie rock demigods are simply trying to cash in on past success is a little unfair. Since they were never really able to enjoy major-league (outside of the United Kingdom) success (which happened after the breakup) in the first place, they’re just now getting used to this whole rock-glory thing.
LoudQUIETloud, shot during the band’s 2004 world tour, frames their collective “holy shit, they love us!” state of shock perfectly while still managing to focus on the individual members’ personal struggles with art, family, and commerce. Before the tour’s start, lead singer-songwriter Charles Thompson (a.k.a. Black Francis) is plugging away at solo gigs and Nashville records; a newly sober Deal (the only Pixie left with any hair) hasn’t recorded with the Breeders in years and is holed up in Ohio; Santiago is scoring films and raising kids; and drummer David Lovering is pursuing “hobbies of magic and metal detecting” (seriously).
Still, amid all the drug tiffs, card tricks, and mostly energetic renditions of classic tunes like “Caribou” and “Hey,” we get precious little insight into the Pixies’ much-ballyhooed musical influence. Even the film’s title — a reference to the band’s signature seesawing song structure — is never explained. Actually, the title is a good characterization of the movie itself: despite the notorious rancor between members that ultimately led to the band’s demise, for the most part they come off as quiet, funny eccentrics in between the thunderous live footage. They’re so unrelentingly low-key, in fact, it’s hard not to wish one of them would explode, like a Pixies chorus, into something a little less tame. (Michelle Devereaux)

Broken social scene

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› a&eletters@sfbg.com
Brooklyn, like Oakland and the Mission District, has swelled in the last decade with postadolescents: beards and black hoodies wandering streets on the verge of gentrification. This intermediary space is the setting and premise for indie filmmaker Andrew Bujalski’s latest, Mutual Appreciation. Bujalski first made a splash with Boston-based Funny Ha Ha (2002), an unassuming feature made in the tradition of talky indie forbearers John Cassavetes, Eric Rohmer, and Richard Linklater. Mutual Appreciation again collects a group of guarded postgraduates for its cast, but the film is no angsty trifle. Bujalski pulls off that impossible trick — always surprising no matter the influences — of affecting a naturalistic, improvisational flow while maintaining a clear authorial voice. It’s a dynamic that picks up steam with each exquisitely staged scene, making Mutual Appreciation as absorbing as anything you’re likely to see at the movies this year.
How then do we account for this guided freewheel? Cinematography is, as always, at least part of the answer. The grainy 16mm black-and-white film stock isn’t mere affectation but rather a functional stylistic element, underscoring the drab reality of the movie’s unsettled spaces: apartments with everything secondhand and mismatched, unmade beds on nicked hardwood floors, and rooms that are either too big (making one fret over the lack of proper furniture) or too small (making one crouch). Bujalski and cinematographer Matthias Grunsky court these challenging spaces, always coming up with a revealing composition that frames characters in depth — splayed against walls or hunched in makeshift chairs.
While Bujalski has clearly done his homework on no-budget cinematography, his narration style seems more instinctual and basic to the film’s shape. Like exemplar François Truffaut’s Jules and Jim, Mutual Appreciation pivots on a youthful, untested ménage à trois: boyfriend-girlfriend Lawrence (Bujalski) and Ellie (Rachel Clift) have lived in Brooklyn for some time, while Lawrence’s old friend Alan (Justin Rice) is new in town, lost in an existential quandary over his life and music (“It’s like pop”). Like so many of his progenitors, Bujalski has an innate sense for particular rhythms of talk. This isn’t just a matter of dialogue (“If you kiss me now, my breath’s going to be all beery and burrito-y”) but also of editing — knowing, for example, how to exit a scene, convey a relationship with an unevenly paced phone conversation, and let the camera run on a given close-up to register a character’s unguarded reactions.
More impressive is the way Bujalski subtly orchestrates little one-acts to achieve genuine drama. The principle instance of such narrative structuring is in the many scenes between Lawrence and Ellie, and Alan and Ellie, but none between the old friends in question (until the closing minutes anyhow). If Mutual Appreciation’s narrative seems accidental, it’s a testament to Bujalski’s understated technique. There is certainly method here, from repetitions of dialogue (“That’s flattering”) and theme (gender confusion) to the patient unveiling of character, the apotheosis of which is a sequence of scenes tracing Alan from one Warholian party to another, no better for the omnipresent tallboys of beer.
What begins as nonchalant talk blooms into compelling drama by movie’s end. It seems no coincidence that one of Mutual Appreciation’s three main characters is an indie rocker. Bujalski, after all, registers the fear and trembling that twentysomethings expect from music (middlebrow Indiewood being as unlikely to produce something relatable as the French “cinema of quality” from which the New Wave broke away). But Mutual Appreciation is more than an outlet; in its illuminating narration, many will see a mirror, an ode to these transitional places in which one blusters toward adulthood, talking all the way. SFBG
MUTUAL APPRECIATION
Opens Fri/29
Red Vic Movie House
1727 Haight, SF
$4–$8
(415) 668-3994
www.redvicmoviehouse.com
www.mutualappreciation.com
For an interview with Mutual Appreciation director Andrew Bujalski, go to www.sfbg.com/blogs/pixel_vision.

Off to Mexico City and IAPA

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I’m off to Mexico City where democracy is being tested on an almost daily basis. I am attending as a delegate the 62nd annual assemble of the Inter American Press Association. IAPA is an effective organization in promoting and defending press freedom in the Americas from Canada to Argentina and points in between. It has been for decades a key player in promoting democracy in the Americas. The Guardian’s John Ross has been filing excellent reports from Mexico City (see links below – more online at www.sfbg.com):

Warning: Blue jeans are dangerous to human rights

Anatomy of a scandal foretold

The Delegate Zero factor

No Pasaran!

I’ll try to keep you posted, B3.

Oh the humanity — and the genius of TV Carnage

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A poodle-permed Rosie O’Donnell horrifying John Ritter? John Walsh in full effect? It’s all in a day’s tele-trawling for Derrick Beckles, aka Pinky, of TV Carnage. Beckles recently agreed to talk about the madness behind his method for this week’s cover story on pixel piracy.

pinky1

Pinky, some of us here have a crush.

Guardian: Earlier this week I was showing the Rosie O’Donnell meets John Ritter part of Sore from Sighted Eyes to another writer at the Guardian and she was crying from laughter. How did you fall into making the TV Carnage videos, and how much time goes into crafting one? I’d imagine it takes more than a while to put one of your comps together.
Derrick Beckles: It’s a multi-leveled task of insanity. I moved recently, but I have mounds and mounds and shelves and shelves of tapes. Stuff I’ve been taping off of TV with a VCR. It’s not so much that I’m always in front of the TV set. I’d just say that I have this divining rod for shit. I just have these psychic premonitions when I turn my TV on.
I have years and years of footage, and some stuff that is more subtle. I pull all of it into my computer and have this mountain of footage there and say, “Now what?” Then I take a swig of whiskey and go, “You’ve got yourself into it again.” I’ll start randomly piecing things together. Sometimes I have a bit of theme already decided on, and other times it comes to me as I go. After that, it takes over my life, and I do its bidding as long as it takes. I have no idea how long each compilation is going to take. The process ends up being a good portion of a year at least.

Grizzly man

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New York City band Grizzly Bear’s gently ambient Yellow House (Warp) manages to delicately conjure bittersweet associations of musty, memory-cluttered childhood homes and reference Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s feminist-modernist novel The Yellow Wall-Paper — but the real household dirt on this band has to remain in one’s imagination.
Vocalist-keyboardist-guitarist-autoharpist Edward Droste is up-front about his own sexuality — saying he’s been in a relationship with one man for most of the band’s existence — but when it comes to the love lives of his straight mates, the sometime journalist and Pro Tools bedroom recordist is the soul of discretion. Grizzly Bear’s tales of random hookups are just “too dirty” to pass along, he explains on the phone from the East Coast college campus where the group is playing before joining the TV on the Radio tour in October. “I usually bond with the girls,” says Droste, 27, miming his role as the band’s father confessor. “It’s cool — we’re leaving town. But it’s totally cool.”
And a certain ethereal cool marks the foursome’s gorgeous soundscapes, now lifted above the tape-hiss fray of their fake-fur-embellished 2004 debut, Horn of Plenty (Kanine; later reissued in 2005 with a CD of remixes by Dntel, the Soft Pink Truth, Final Fantasy, and Solex). Yellow House sounds warm and welcoming, thanks to the production prowess of the band’s brass and woodwinds player Chris Taylor and the recording site: Droste’s mother’s Boston-area home, the yellow house of the disc’s title. The seductive tug of nostalgia takes over as Beach Boys–style harmonies skate over fingerpicked acoustic guitar and strings, bird chirps, and wah-wah pedal flit together on “Little Brother.” Horns lumber alongside busy insectlike electronics and Droste’s and guitarist Daniel Rossen’s cooing vocals during “Plans.” By the time the album breaks into “Marla” — a slowed-down, strings-swathed dusky dirge based on a 1930s-era tune penned by Droste’s great-aunt of the same name, a failed singer who eventually drank herself to death — resistance becomes futile. This is seriously lovely music, a reflection of the group’s recent communal music-making — and far removed from groupie dish.
“Initially, we wanted to record an album before we had a label and didn’t have any money,” recalls Droste, who shares the name of the Hooters cofounder, a distant relation. “My mom was going to be away, it was my old childhood home, and I was, like, ‘Well, we can all have our own bedrooms, record in the living room, and there’s a backyard, and every night we’d have chips and salsa and beer.’”
The laid-back atmosphere and ensuing musical productivity led to a bidding frenzy among indie labels when the recordings emerged, and now Droste is relaxing into a tour schedule that brings him back to San Francisco for the first time since February 2005, when Grizzly Bear — jokingly named after a Droste boyfriend who was anything but — played the Eagle Tavern. How did Droste’s hetero bandmates handle the attentions of SF’s finest bears — and those of the bandleader himself?
“They’re total cock teases. They love attention from boys, but they never do anything,” Droste offers laconically. “Never say never, but I kind of feel like if you’re hanging with me in New York City and there are a million fags everywhere and dozens of opportunities … I’m just gonna drop it and accept the fact.” (Kimberly Chun)
GRIZZLY BEAR
Fri/29, 9 p.m.
Independent
628 Divisadero, SF
$12
(415) 771-1421
www.grizzly-bear.net