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The Performant: One for the road

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Baxtalo Drom’s happy trails — and the Performant’s faves of 2012

With 2012 finally behind us, apocalypse thwarted, we have to get back to the business of preparing for a future we were told not to expect. Stretched out before us, a ribbon of Alfred Noyes moonlight looping the landscape of possibility, the road of the future beckons us onward, final destination unknown. What lies ahead, nobody knows for sure. But at least we know that for the moment there *is* an ahead.

During both the best and worst of times, the heady mystique of the open road is always in fashion, imbued with an undeniable glamour that monthly “gypsy punk cabaret” Baxtalo Drom is all too happy to exploit. Baxtalo Drom translates to “Lucky Road” — happy trails, if you like — and it plays out very much like a quick-and-dirty variety show performed by a high-spirited caravan-load of traveling players. A showcase for pretty girls, hobo bands, and eclectic DJ’s, Baxtalo Drom’s shabby chic and Balkan streak make it a perfect fit for Amnesia’s convivial ramshackle allure, its dark corners and hardwood floors.

The weather was cold, but the action onstage was hot for Baxtalo Drom’s last show of the year. Saucily MCed by Mz. K., and featuring a sizzling playlist courtesy of guest DJ, Wolfgang von Cope, the show starred two very different dancers and one eclectic band, with a cameo by “The Human Cortex” — SF’s most cerebral sword swallower.

First up was Amberetta, billed as a second-generation belly dancer, who first performed to a blues version of “You Shook me All Night Long” and later in the evening to The Prodigy while balancing two curved swords on top of her regally poised head. Burlesque firecracker Bunny Pistol showed off her tasseled pasties and tattooed midriff, and Thee Hobo Gobbelins, armed with squeezebox, banjo, and guitarrón, rollicked their way through a setlist of junkyard anthems and phantasmagoric drinking songs. Swords being somewhat a theme, an appearance by “The Human Cortex” (Hernan Cortez) who gave an impromptu lesson on sword swallowing to an excitable oddience member, was a fitting complement to the evening’s entertainments, infusing the stage with a bit of dramatic vaudevillian bombast.

And as both the evening and the year drew to a close, a momentarily prophetic vision of the Lucky Road lurching forward into the future rose to mind, making said future seem less daunting, more familiar, even worth looking forward to — roadblocks, ruts, unexpected twists and all.

*******

Five for the road: five awesome events the Performant checked out in 2012 that you can still catch in 2013:

1) The San Francisco Tape Music Festival, January: www.sfsound.org/tape

2) Bay One Acts, TBD: www.bayoneacts.org

3) Robogames, April: www.robogames.net

4) KC Turner House Concerts, monthly or more: www.kcturnermusic.com

5) Popcorn Anti-Theater, monthly: www.antitheater.com

Help Bliss Dance stay on Treasure Island

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Bliss Dance, the 40-foot-tall sculpture of nude woman built to dance at Burning Man in 2010, became a beloved, iconic local art installation when it was placed on Treasure Island later that year. What was meant to be a temporary placement has been repeatedly extended by the Treasure Island Development Authority and artist Marco Cochrane’s crew.

But she was never meant to dance in these foggy elements for such a long song. So if she’s going to remain there for the extra year that TIDA has authorized, she’s going to need some help in the form for a rust-proof protective coating and an overhaul of her lighting system.

And that’s where we all come in — at least those of us who want to see her continue dancing there, framed against the San Francisco waterfront and skyline. Cochrane and his crew have started a Kickstarter campaign to raise the $16,000 they need by Jan. 10.

At this point, they’re more than halfway to the goal, so take some of that extra cash that grandma sent you for the holidays and apply it to a worthy cause: supporting local art and artists, and ensuring this place remains a hub of creativity. Or if that’s not good enough, do it for nude dancing women everywhere. 

The Performant: How Grinches save Christmas

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Jeff Garrett and Will Franken overcome holiday saccharine.

Is that a collective sigh of relief in the air as another frenzied holiday season winds down to its usual end and whatever apocalypse was scheduled to go down seems to have spared at least our physical reality?

As we drift back into the routines of our regularly scheduled lives, the brief illumination of whatever lessons we were meant to be learning on the eve of our potential destruction and the supposed birthday of our salvation, flickers out without so much as a whimper. It’s a bit of a stretch anyhow, to weight a single stretch of calendar with so much cosmic significance, yet we do it year after year, grasping superstitiously at the shimmering notion of redemption, the hidden catalyst underlying our frantic excess.

It’s no wonder that the literature of the season is so full of characters in need of said redemption. The curmudgeons of Christmas have populated the landscape since long before jolly old St. Nick appeared on the scene, all the way back to the mean-spirited innkeeper of biblical infamy, who forced history’s holiest matriarch to give birth to her saintly son in a stable. Next to his casual crime, our own feckless peccadilloes seem so tame in comparison. And almost no act of pernicious revenge we could practically carry out quite stacks up to the hilarious inventiveness of the Grinch’s Christmas-in-reverse plot, and the wisdom we can glean from such a tale is twofold. Firstly, that if redemption is possible for such miserable wretches, then it’s certainly within our own grasp, and secondly, we have a collective need for these bad boys of winter to balance out the more saccharine elements of the holidays and keep them palatable, even plausible.

Thus spending an evening with a misanthrope so iconic his moniker is also a descriptor, is as seasonally-appropriate as trimming a tree or eating Chinese food. That misanthrope, of course, is one Ebenezer Scrooge, and in Jeff Garrett’s solo rendition at Boxcar Studio (“Scrooge, the Haunting of Ebenezer”), he undergoes the preordained transformation with a fearsome intensity that spills over the modestly appointed black box stage that struggles to contain him and the multitudes (more than twenty characters worth) he portrays. Judiciously edited down into a lean hour, stripped of the sumptuous Victorian accoutrements of big budget/big cast renditions, Garrett’s version, directed by Peter Ruocco, clearly revels in its dark origin—that of a ghost story, predating the trend of scary movies at Christmastime by almost a hundred and fifty years. True, the compressed timeline makes the eventual reformation of the reprobate seem a little hasty, but not to the extent that one would begrudge him his exultant transformation.

A more modern Christmastide tradition for San Francisco’s orphans and miscreants, is Will Franken’s annual holiday foray, an evening which rarely has much to do overtly with the actual holidays, but much to do with the need to distract ourselves from their inevitability. At Saturday’s edition, Franken’s signature stream-of-(sub)consciousness vignettes featured a bevy of characters in patently absurdist situations: a 39 year-old man without health insurance attempting to rediscover penicillin in time to cure his own strep throat, an Irish construction crew foreman left shorthanded by a few actors (Liam Neeson, Colin Ferrell), authors (Oscar Wilde, James Joyce), and Bono, a murder trial defendant confessing to murder in order to be allowed to smoke a cigarette, an obnoxious professional eavedropper with a broad Scottish accent plying his trade on the train, a talkative Southerner cursed with the rare condition of “jelly feet”. Scant attention was paid by Franken, or his many manic onstage personalities, to the pending festivities (despite being flanked onstage by a plywood Christmas Tree and hearth), offering a welcome respite from the otherwise continuous onslaught of holi-mania, and a tradition well worth hanging on to.

 

On the Om Front: Where to breathe deeply this holiday season

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Do you feel like the world is always about to end? I do. Maybe it’s because we’ve been in a recession almost my entire adulthood. Or because I still remember everyone stocking up on toilet paper and batteries for Y2K. Or because it seems these days like there is always a natural disaster happening somewhere in the world, and if a hurricane or tornado or tsunami isn’t tearing apart a city or a village, some crazy dude is shooting people or devising a shoe bomb or proselytizing that everyone is going to hell in a hand basket lest we give up our immoral ways and fast.

But I have hope. Because dark cannot exist without light. And often, the darker things get, the lighter they’re bound to become. 

Just look at the cycles of the planet. This week, we are approaching the darkest day of the year. And what happens after the darkest day of the year? It gets lighter. This is the way our planet rolls.

So, sure, if you want to get all nihilistic, you can certainly think of these as apocalyptic times. But yogis all over the world are actually juiced about the end of this era. We hope it means the end of the self-centered society, and the beginning of a more unified, global awareness. Conscious conspirators are doing all kinds of things to bring light into our dark world. Recently a group of people came together to create UNIFY, a movement to unite people across cultures all over the world.

One UNIFY event is right here in San Francisco on Fri/21. It’s a flash meditation mob at Union Square that synchs up with meditation mobs throughout the planet (details below). Imagine thousands of people meditating all over the world — from Giza, Egypt to Jerusalem to Times Square — at the same time. If that doesn’t create cosmic shift, I don’t know what will.

I’m going to Union Square to join the crowds and meditate amongst my people. But if you can’t, you can still close your eyes and send good mojo out to the world Friday at noon. We can clean this mess up — but everyone’s got to get some hands dirty and say a prayer. That prayer can be to a deity or a child or a tree, but say it, and say it like you mean it.

In the meantime, check out our short holiday class list below for some of the yoga hot spots for solstice, Christmas, and New Year’s. And remember: It can be tempting to shop, overeat, and weep on your sofa as the days whittle down to their shortest. But if you find yourself in this unfortunate dilemma, pause, click your heels three times, and get thee to the yoga mat. Om.

>>SOLSTICE EVENTS

MC Yogi at Open Secret

Join MC Yogi and The Sacred Sound Society for an evening of light and sound to celebrate the end of an era, and the beginning of a new one, hip-hop yoga style.

Fri/21, 5-7pm vegan feast, 8-9:30pm concert, $15. Open Secret Bookstore, 923 C St., San Rafael. www.opensecretbookstore.com

Winter Solstice Celebration For The Turning Of The Mayan Calendar

Drum-in, sing-in, chant-in, dance-in, and ring-in the new millennium with Daniel Paul and Gina Sala. This sacred ceremony will include taiko drumming, ecstatic kirtan singing and tabla drumming and dancing.

Fri/21, doors open at 6:30pm, program at 7pm, $15 in advance/$20 at door. Nexxus Post Industrial Temple, Craneway Pavilion, 1414 Harbour Way, Richmond. www.ginasala.com

UNIFY Med Mob

Head to Union Square for a globally synchronized flash mob meditation at noon, a part of the worldwide UNIFY movement. People all over the planet will be meditating at the same time to usher in peace and unity for the new era. Bring a blanket and a big dose of zen—it’s going to be packed!

Fri/21, noon, free. Union Square, SF. www.unify.org

>>CHRISTMAS YOGA CLASSES

Hot Vinyasa

Get your sweat on before holidazing in this steamy, fun celebratory class with Brad.

Tue/25, 11am, donations suggested. Urban Flow, 1543 Mission, SF. www.urbanflowsf.com

Hatha Flow

Groove with a mindful, strong flow class with Om Front writer Karen Macklin, and prepare your body and soul for a conscious Christmas Day.

Tue/25, 10:15am, $19 or class card. Yoga Garden, 286 Divisadero, SF. www.yogagardensf.com

>>NEW YEAR’S EVE EVENTS

New Year’s Eve Yoga Celebration & Groove Party

Mark Morford and DJ Eric Monkhouse lead this awesome night of Vinyasa yoga, music, and celebration. Two hours of deep flowing yoga practice, intention-setting, and partying. Yeah.

Dec. 31, 10pm-midnight, $35. Yoga Tree Castro, 97 Collingswood, SF. www.yogatreesf.com

New Years Eve Sacred Celebration

Get down with Jasmine and Astrud of Laughing Lotus, in this celebration of yoga, chanting, music, and dancing.

Dec. 31, 9:30pm-11:55pm, $20. Laughing Lotus, 3271 16th St., SF. sf.laughinglotus.com

>>NEW YEAR’S DAY EVENTS

Iyengar New Year’s Day Class

Join Nora Burnett for an auspicious beginning to the New Year in this annual class of active and restorative poses. After class, chai and light snacks will be served.

Jan. 1, noon-2pm, $40-$50. Iyengar Institute, 2404 27th Ave., SF. www.iyisf.org

Stepping Forward With Purpose

What do you want from your life right now? Make clear intentions for the New Year in this two-hour practice with Darcy Lyon that weaves together asana, meditation, and creative exploration.

Jan. 1, 10am-noon, $25. Yoga Tree Hayes Valley, 519 Hayes, SF. www.yogatreesf.com

The Performant: Unsilent is the night

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Ring the bells

Observant or not, there’s no escaping the Festivus Chrismakwanzakah season, and while you might be grinching it alone with the holiday spirit best known as Kentucky Bourbon, you can’t entirely avoid the pervasive influence that is holiday music. Music, after all, is one of our best tools for communicating intangibles such as emotion, faith, and belief in supernatural beings, and there’s hardly anyone sentient who could fail to be momentarily moved by a rendition of the haunting “Coventry Carol” or Handel’s “Messiah”.

Somewhat unfortunately, Chanukah’s contributions to the seasonal playlist are relatively sparse as compared to those of the big blockbuster holiday it shares the month with: mostly bland, grade school assembly-style songs about dreidels and goofily adolescent ones by Adam Sandler and the Maccabeats.

A pity the Jewish liturgical tradition has failed to produce a Johann Sebastian Bach or even a Benjamin Britten, but at least there’s latkes, which make up for a lot. And also, the material music world does not lack for gifted Jewish bards, so celebrating the sixth night of Chanukah at the Contemporary Jewish Museum with Leonard Cohen cover chorus The Conspiracy of Beards was actually about as perfectly Jewish as it gets.

The Beards have been performing a capella versions of the poetic works of the “High Priest of Solitude” for almost 10 years. Not Cohen impersonators so much as interpreters, the Beards’ approach to the music of Leonard Cohen has always been one of playful exploration — adding simple harmonies, basso profundo, and falsetto trills to Cohen’s weathered range, expanding his often solitary focus into one more piercingly universal. Ensconced in the CJM’s vaulted Goldman Hall, which has recently hosted appearances by Literary Death Match, the Porchlight storytelling series, Dischord Records founder Ian MacKaye, and a screening of The Big Lebowski, the Beards joyfully sang a treasured clutch of favorite Cohen tunes — mostly classics such as “Famous Blue Raincoat” and “Chelsea Hotel No. 2”. For their signature song, “Bird on a Wire” they all broke formation, and stood in a single line, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders in a show of camaraderie, even as they sang of the freedom of the solitary rambler.

Building on the theme of camaraderie, San Francisco’s tenth annual edition of Phil Kline’s twenty year-old “Unsilent Night” went off without a hitch on Saturday, despite the incessant rain of the day and the small clusters of belligerent Santas that still dotted the chilly Mission District landscape. With the rain serendipitously vanished just before the scheduled go-time of 7pm, a relatively small but hardy group showed up to the corner of Dolores and 18th Street, boomboxes at the ready.

“Unsilent Night” is a four-part soundscape for multiple speakers, the more the merrier, and as the 45-minute piece plays, the four separate tracks weave together into a lustrous tapestry of ambient sound interspersed with golden threads of angel choirs and purposeful bells. Combining the conviviality of a caroling party with the secular appeal of experimental noisemaking, we strolled through the narrow corridors of the Mission’s more tranquil side streets, encouraging stares, smiles, and even spontaneous joiners (including a few Santas who played James Brown at a low volume in conceptual counterpoint). We spent the piece’s final phrases perched hillside in Dolores Park, contemplating the view of sparkling lights and wet pavement, as the music trailed off to whatever realm spent notes are relegated to—the sacred and profane alike.

For pictures and more info of San Francisco’s Unsilent Night check out Mission Loc@l’s slideshow

 

Golden Gate Park magic mushroom finally classified, just in time for high season

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Hurray for science! Thanks to it and people who believe in it, a small tan spore that has been sprouting happily for Bay Area trippers for decades has a name: Psilocybe allenii. Our friends at the Psychedelic Society of San Francisco tipped us off to the fact that PSSF lecturer and mycologist Alan Rockefeller had helped pen a definitional paper that introduced the little guys. Rockefeller will be leading a Society mushroom hunt — open to all comers — in Golden Gate Park on Thu/20. He told us hippies have been hunting Psilocybe allenii in the park for ages, previously using its informal name Psilocybe cyanofriscosa, which sounds suspiciously close to “San Francisco” to us. 

We got in touch with Rockefeller and his cohort Peter Werner by email to hear about our new fungal friend. They only used a few words that we didn’t understand, but we’re willing to put up with it because they are very smart people.

PLEASE NOTE: Do not eat wild mushrooms without someone who knows what they’re doing. Really. 

San Francisco Bay Guardian: How was Psilocybe allenii discovered?

Alan Rockefeller: [John W. Allen] found it in wood chip landscaping [where it grows] October through January. It grows in cities, in areas where lots of people go. John is not the first person to find the mushroom, it has been well known for a long time. It was named after him because he picked it and mailed it to [Czech mycologist] Jan Borovicka. The earliest collection that I know of is a photo by Paul Stamets, taken in Golden Gate Park in 1976, and published in Mushrooms Demystified by David Arora. In that photo, there are three Psilocybe cyanescens and three Psilocybe allenii, all labeled Psilocybe cyanescens.

It’s been an open secret for many years that there is a new psilocybin mushroom that needs to be described. Literally hundreds of people have found it. People have been calling it “Psilocybe cyanofriscosa” since 2006, but that name is not proper Latin and was never validly published. New species of mushrooms must be named using proper Latin, and need to be described in a peer reviewed scientific journal. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69VhBQVLjVU&feature=plcp

SFBG: How was it determined to be psychedelic?

AR: All mushrooms which stain blue where damaged and have either a dark purple brown or black spore print are psychedelic.   

This species has been eaten by many psilocybin mushroom enthusiasts and they say it’s one of the strongest mushrooms known. The only mushroom which may be stronger is the closely-related Psilocybe azurescens. That species is very similar but has a cap that is umbonate, and there is a two base pair difference in the ITS gene. Psilocybe allenii occurs from BC, Canada to Los Angeles, and is common in San Francisco.  Psilocybe azurescens only occurs within 20 miles of the Oregon/Washington border, in coastal dune grasses in the mouth of the Columbia river. (Correction: John W. Allen wrote to us to assure us that Psilocybe azurescens grow quite prolifically in the Seattle Puget Sound area)

Psilocybe cyanescens is also very common in San Francisco. It is almost as potent. If you go to Golden Gate Park in December you will see hundreds of hippies looking at the wood chip landscaping for Psilocybe cyanescens and Psilocybe allenii.

SFBG: How common is it to find new psychedelic/otherwise mushroom strains?

Peter Werner: Mushrooms in general? Finding new species is quite common, because fungi are not nearly as well investigated as plants, in spite of being a kingdom that, if anything, contains more species. (Albeit, mushroom-forming fungi are a small subset.) I couldn’t give you exact numbers, but there are probably a number of new species described in California each year. In really mycologically-underexplored areas, say Belize or Guyana, a mycologist may make a large collection in an hour, over half of which will be species that have never been scientifically described. Dennis Desjardin, the eminent mycologist at SFSU, once said that if he never went out in the field again, he could spend the rest of his life naming undescribed species deposited in the SFSU herbarium.

>>MORE SHOTS OF THE ‘SHROOM AVAILABLE HERE

In terms of Psilocybe in this part of the world, people find new species less often, because most of the West Coast species were described during a great wave of interest in the 1960s and ’70s. Still, there are several papers each year describing new Psilocybe species from various parts of the world, including from North America.

SFBG: How many species of mushrooms are there?

PW: [First you have to not just] define “species.” but define “mushroom”! The terms “mushroom” and “truffle” describe pretty much any macroscopically visible fungus with a distinct fruiting body, that are above-ground or underground, respectively. But definitions vary — the terms are not scientific ones. To take a stab at the number, I’d say the majority of mushroom and truffle species fall into the basidiomycete subdivision Agaricomycotina, and the Tree of Life web pages (which are a good general source for such things) estimates some 20,000 named species. (Named being the keyword here, undescribed species making up a possibly much greater number worldwide.) There are another about 1700 named species in the order Pezizales, which include the majority of fleshy ascomycetes (morels, cup fungi, true truffles, etc.)

In terms of fungi in general, that runs into the many millions, most of which are unnamed. Estimates range from over 600 thousand to over 5 million. A good article on estimating the earth’s biodiversity, including estimates of fungi, was run in the New York Times science pages last year.

SFBG: Are there any events coming up that laypeople might be interested in/invited to? Do you have to be a mushroom expert to be a part of the Society?

AR: I am leading a mushroom hunt in Golden Gate Park on Dec. 20 at noon, it is open to the public. You don’t need to be a mushroom expert to attend.  I think that I am the only mushroom hunter that attends these events.  Information on where exactly to meet will be posted on the SF Psychedelics Society website

San Francisco Film Critics Circle’s 2012 awards!

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Oscars and Golden Globes are one breed of animal — critics’ groups are another beast entirely (hopefully, of the more free-thinking, out-of-the-box type). At the lively annual meeting of the San Francisco Film Critics’ Circle Sun/16, several races came down to just one or two votes’ difference. But we muddled through (there was wine, there were cookies) and came up with a slate of winners I’m proud to report here.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJ1O1vb9AUU

Best picture: The Master

Best director: Kathryn Bigelow for Zero Dark Thirty

Best original screenplay: Mark Boal for Zero Dark Thirty

Best adapted screenplay: Tony Kushner for Lincoln

Best actor: Joaquin Phoenix for The Master

Best actress: Emmanuelle Riva for Amour

Best supporting actor: Tommy Lee Jones for Lincoln

Best supporting actress: Helen Hunt for The Sessions

Best animated feature: ParaNorman

Best foreign language film: Amour

Best documentary: The Waiting Room (director Peter Nicks was also the winner of the Marlon Riggs Award, for “courage and vision in the Bay Area film community”)

Best cinematography: Claudio Miranda for Life of Pi

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5EUJeahhFg0

Best film editing: William Goldenberg for Argo

Best production design: Adam Stockhausen for Moonrise Kingdom

Special citation (honoring an under-appreciated indie): Girl Walk//All Day, directed by Jacob Krupnick. Watch the entire film here.

Live Shots: SantaCon sleighed SF

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Photos by Bowerbird Photography

A city wide pub crawl wearing santa costumes. How could San Francisco not be thrilled for this annual event, the city where everyone loves to dress up and drink! (Well, OK, some of us were terrified of the more tipsier St. Nicholas cohorts, who may have gotten a little too jolly. But still.)

The annual SantaCon festivities started in Union Square this Saturday, as aantas, Christmas trees, and odd furry animals gathered for the impending debauchery. The variations on the round jolly man were creative and quirky and pretty much came down to whether or not you owned something red and white. And despite the cool weather and drizzle turned downpour, no one seemed to mind, especially layered in their warm, fuzzy outfits. What a fabulous and fitting way to ring in the holidaze!

 

Heroic shorties return! “The Hobbit” and more new movies

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One more week until Hollywood unleashes a mighty flood of new films, in honor of noted multiplex fan Baby Jesus. This week’s only big release is Peter Jackson’s return to Middle-earth, The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, which at two hours and 46 minutes is definitely a pee-before, bring-snacks-to-eat-during experience. My review below the jump, along with takes on the Alan Cumming showcase Any Day Now and Israeli coming-of-age drama The Matchmaker.

Also worth the popcorn calories: documentarian Ken Burns’ provocative look at one of New York City’s most infamous crimes, The Central Park Five; less so is the FDR dramedy Hyde Park on Hudson, which does star Bill Murray, so at least it has that goin’ for it, which is nice. I review both films here.

Any Day Now In 1970s West Hollywood, flamboyant drag queen Rudy (Alan Cumming) and closeted, newly divorced lawyer Paul (Garret Dillahunt) meet and become an unlikely but loving couple. Their opposites-attract bond strengthens when they become de facto parents to Marco (Isaac Leyva), a teen with Down syndrome left adrift when his party-girl mother (Jamie Anne Allman) is arrested. Domestic bliss — school for Marco with a caring special-education teacher (Kelli Williams); a fledgling singing career for Rudy (so: lots of crooning, for Cumming superfans) — is threatened by rampant homophobia, so Rudy and Paul must conceal their true relationship from Paul’s overbearing boss and the other parents at Marco’s school. When the secret gets out, the fact that Marco is being well cared-for matters not to the law; he’s immediately shunted into a foster home while Paul and Rudy battle the court for custody. Actor-turned-director and co-writer Travis Fine (2010’s The Space Between) guides a veteran cast through this based-on-true-events tale, with sensitive performances and realistic characterizations balancing out the story’s broader strokes. (1:43) (Cheryl Eddy)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SDnYMbYB-nU

The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey Make no mistake: the Lord of the Rings trilogy represented an incredible filmmaking achievement, with well-deserved Oscars handed down after the third installment in 2003. If director Peter Jackson wanted to go one more round with J.R.R. Tolkien’s beloved characters for a Hobbit movie, who was gonna stop him? Not so fast. This return to Middle-earth (in 3D this time) represents not one but three films — which would be self-indulgent enough even if part one didn’t unspool at just under three hours, and even if Jackson hadn’t decided to shoot at 48 frames per second. (I can’t even begin to explain what that means from a technical standpoint, but suffice to say there’s a certain amount of cinematic lushness lost when everything is rendered in insanely crystal-clear hi-def.) Journey begins as Bilbo Baggins (a game, funny Martin Freeman) reluctantly joins Gandalf (a weary-seeming Ian McKellan) and a gang of dwarves on their quest to reclaim their stolen homeland and treasure, batting Orcs, goblins, Gollum (Andy Serkis), and other beasties along the way. Fan-pandering happens (with characters like Cate Blanchett’s icy Galadriel popping in to remind you how much you loved LOTR), and the story moves at a brisk enough pace, but Journey never transcends what came before — or in the chronology of the story, what comes after. I’m not quite ready to declare this Jackson’s Phantom Menace (1999), but it’s not an completely unfair comparison to make, either. (2:50) (Cheryl Eddy)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VBmrW2LeCnw

The Matchmaker In 2006, amid ongoing conflict with Lebanon, an Israeli novelist learns he’s received an unexpected inheritance from a man he knew in 1968, the summer before he turned 16. Most of Avi Nesher’s The Matchmaker takes place during those golden months in Haifa, when young Arik (Tuval Shafir) — lover of Dashiell Hammett, son of Holocaust survivors — takes a job working for a charismatic but vaguely shady matchmaker (comedian Adir Miller, who won the Israeli equivalent of a Best Actor Oscar), following potential clients to assure their quest for love is on the level. His exciting new gig whisks the budding writer out of middle-class monotony and introduces him to a wealth of colorful “Low Rent district” types; he also nurses a raging crush on his best friend’s free-spirited American cousin. Mostly a gently nostalgic tale, The Matchmaker also offers an unusual take on the Holocaust, viewing it from two decades later and using its looming memory to shape the characters who experienced it firsthand — as well as members of the younger generation, like Arik, who pages through The House of Dolls to learn more, even as he refers to the concentration camp where his father was held as simply “there.” (1:52) (Cheryl Eddy)

The Performant: Poetry in motion

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“You Need to Read Poetry” and “Ragged Wing” take flight

Against the back curtain of the stage, empty save a couple of small platforms, a mysterious tree, represented by a rainbow of colored scarves, stretched its silken boughs. Cut to the “great before,” when humans were still a figment of the future, and Mol’-luk (Liz Wand), a brooding, powerful condor, sat perched on a rock, little suspecting that the “mountain” is pregnant with his peregrine falcon son, Wek Wek (Juliana Lustenader), whose dramatic birth by fire was further facilitated by a chorus of rattlesnakes (select members of the oddience armed with noisemakers).

Soon grown, Wek Wek set off on a quest to find the music tree (also the title of the play), a fanciful construction of hidden voices and those bright scarves, undulating over the bodies of Hannah Lennett and Liz Wand. Based on a Miwok legend, and told with an energetic blend of music, movement, and poetic narration, “The Music Tree” fit neatly in with the Oakland-based Ragged Wing Ensemble’s canon of mythology-centric explorations, and kicked off its single weekend run of their inaugural “Fierce Play” series. Three brand new works created and rehearsed in just fourteen days — an exhibition of “theatrical athleticism,” stretching the boundaries of the possible with a truncated yet intensified creation process.

The avian protagonists of “The Music Tree” were good precursors to the second play “Air:born” which opened with a humorous depiction of poor ungainly ostriches, the fastest birds on land but also the heaviest, incapable of flight. “The ostrich is tragic because it came so close.” Of course it isn’t just ostriches that long to be airborne as the following two vignettes demonstrated—with cleverly devised sequences of swooping flight and paper planes—the first featuring Daedalus (Wendi Gross) and Icarus (Marlene Yarosh), the second, the Wright Brothers (Michele Owen and Soren Santos).

The final play, “Fish Tank Piece” started out as a whimsical romance between a frustrated artist (Anna Schneiderman) filling fish tanks with yarn (and charging $475 for them) and her equally frustrated, non-artist boyfriend (Michael Correa), then opened up into a more complex meditation on the meaning of purpose—in work and in life as in love.  A second batch of “Fierce” will be served up in February with all new playwrights, and one hopes the promise shown by these raw flashes of inspiration can be nurtured further, perhaps with a follow-up festival in the coming year.

Meanwhile, back in San Francisco, Performers Under Stress “You Need to Read Poetry!” took a more rehearsed approach to its subject matter: the performance of dozens of the company’s favorite poems, from Langston Hughes to Lucia Perillo. In the theatrical context, each poem became a concise script, as when Nazelah Jamison attempted to seduce Shaye Angelo Acevedo with lines by Nikki Giovanni, or when Valerie Fachman gathered Jamison, Gloria McDonald, and Carina Lastimosa Salazar to her side while reminiscing ala Marge Piercy.

A section on the beats turned the stage into a rowdy café scene, and a segment with guest readers Mellissa Stein and Pireeni Sundaralingam, quietly electrified. Presented as integrative works rather than isolated lines with limited appeal and an intimidating reputation, “You Need to Read Poetry!” takes its message seriously. ”Poetry gets us there,” director Scott Baker writes in his program notes, but where is that? Considering the scope and reach of the presentation, I’m guessing anywhere you want it to.

“You Need to Read Poetry!” runs through December 23

Bindlestiff Studio

185 6th Street, SF

$10-$20

www.performersunderstress.com

 

Meet your weiner: Sammy Davis reps the Bay in national dachshund races

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December 27th, friends. That is the day that Sammy Davis competes for our honor. Davis is a weiner dog, winner of this year’s regional Wienerschnitzel Wiener Nationals (which took place during half-time of a Warriors game on November 24th, in case you missed it.) We scored an interview with his owner Sabrina Seiden, who along with partner Patrick Major is currently rubbing Davis’ tiny shoulders in preparation for December 27th’s Holiday Bowl in San Diego, where their pup — the 2007 national champ, fancy! — will expend every drop of energy in his wirey little body in pursuit of bringing home the top honor for the Bay. 

San Francisco Bay Guardian: What kind of wiener is Sammy Davis? How did you know he was a winner?

Sabrina Seiden: Sammy Davis is a Double Dapple black and tan Tweenie. Tweenie means he is in between a standard and mini size. We knew he was a winner when we picked him because of his determination and alpha personality.

SFBG: How did you guys prepare for the race? Give me your game day routine.

SS: Certain secrets cannot be revealed, but we’re willing to let you in on a few tips. To train for the Wienerschnitzel Wiener Nationals, Patrick does a series of conditioning activities with Sammy Davis, which includes practicing running out of his kennel using his favorite squeaky ball as bait. The week of the race, we stop training to build up his energy and eagerness to see his toy ball again. On game day we make sure he eats two hours before the race and we have motivational talks with Sammy Davis to get him pumped up. As soon as we dress him in his Wienerschnitzel Wiener Nationals race vest he’s ready to go!

SFBG: Narrate the race itself for us.

SS: I hold Sammy Davis while Patrick waits at the finish line with the squeaky ball. Now remember, it’s been a week since Sammy Davis has seen his favorite toy so he’s more than eager to dash down the race track. During the qualifying heat, Sammy Davis was really squirmy and focused on Patrick and his ball. I could barely hold him and thought he would jump out of my arms. When I placed him in the Wienerschnitzel Wiener National starting gates, he was determined to get to his ball once again. I leaned down and told him “go, go, go!” and he shot out and won his heat. Patrick noticed that the other dogs hadn’t even left the box and Sammy Davis was already three quarters of the way down the track.

Winning form: Sammy Davis on his November 30th gameday

During the final race we were both worried he wouldn’t run because it was so loud in the stadium, and he was shaking. Sammy Davis doesn’t like loud noises and tends to want to run and hide. We gave him our pep talk to keep him focused. I put him in the Wienerschnitzel starting gates earlier than usual to make him feel more secure and help settle his nerves. When Patrick watched him down at the other end of the track Sammy Davis had a determined look, which gave Patrick reassurance that he was going to be the champion!

Now it’s times to train for the Wienerschnitzel Wiener National Finals in San Diego! This is Sammy Davis’ second trip to Southern California. Warm weather and the $1,000 grand prize will be the perfect way to ring in the New Year.

SFBG: Where does Sammy hope to go with his career? What does success look like for him?

SS: Success to Sammy Davis is making people happy. Sammy Davis is an example of how dogs can help their owners overcome tough times with the comfort of their unconditional love. Patrick was sick for a long time and Sammy Davis’ companionship was key to his recovery. Sammy Davis and Patrick are a winning team on and off the Wienerschnitzel race tracks.

Patrick Major and Sabrina Seiden (right) with a boatload of cash and their intrepid canine Sammy Davis

SFBG: Does Sammy Davis eat wieners?

SS: Sammy Davis is on a strict dog food-only diet, but he does love to steal bagels with cream cheese when he can.

SFBG: What does he think of Scott Weiner’s recent nudity ban?

SS: We’re so proud of Sammy Davis’ accomplishments at the Wienerschnitzel Wiener Nationals and think a little exposure of our winning wiener doesn’t hurt anybody.

W. Kamau Bell plays the Fillmore, but doesn’t hold back for the home crowd

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A word of advice to the person who shouted, “who’s your favorite clothing designer?,” at W. Kamau Bell during his December 9th show at the Fillmore: a guy who wears a “Legalize Arizona” t-shirt during a night he considers one of the biggest moments of his career probably doesn’t give a shit about fashion. (Initially befuddled by the question, Bell eventually responded “Dickies.”) In addition, to the person who asked Bell whether or not he thought was a whore for being on TV, if he is a one … well you paid for your ticket to the show, right?

Glad we could get that out of the way first.

Bell’s Fillmore gig in the city where he resided for 15 years was one of seven on his Kamau Mau Uprising tour – the name an obvious nod to his radical political leanings. But perhaps none of the other venues held as much significance for him as this one. As he told me in our recent Guardian interview, “in some sense that’s bigger than getting a TV show, when they said that I was going to play the Fillmore.”

The comic’s giddiness in reuniting with the people of his adopted homeland (he grew up in Chicago) was evident as his 6’4” frame came lumbering onto the stage, just moments after opener Dave Thomason’s set. Thomason supposedly was going to go off stage and then come back on to introduce Bell, but Bell apparently didn’t get the memo and strolled right into the spotlight sans introduction from Thomason.

You don’t have to be Nate Silver (a.k.a., White Jesus, according to Bell) to predict how a show like this was going to begin. When a local comedian leaves town to get his own TV show in New York – Totally Biased With W. Kamau Bell was recently renewed for a second season – it’s pretty much de rigueur that he opens by regaling the crowd with an anecdotal New York show biz story followed by some softball home crowd-pleasers.

And that’s how it happened. Bell told a story about the time he appeared on The View with Taylor Swift and his towncar was swarmed by six or seven deranged teenyboppers. As for the home crowd pleaser, Bell teased the East Bay denizens about their reluctance to cross the bridge for pretty much any reason. Low hanging fruit? Sure. Could he have easily flipped which side of the Bay he was joshing? Sure. Was it necessary? Absolutely! Broad home crowd pleasers are hypeman-stand-ins in the world of live comedy.

Once we got past the “homecoming” novelty (it never fully went away) Bell hit full stride, thwacking the audience with his favorite subject: race! A palpable liberal queasiness was rife in the historic theater when Bell struck his harshest notes, especially those recounting his own experiences with racism — he once got called the n-word twice in one night in the Mission.

And then as kicker, he chucked sexuality in the mix:

“Hey I’ve lived in San Francisco for 15 years, I never had any beef with gay people, I had way more beef with Chinese people than gay people. Way more, not even close and that’s why I don’t think we should let Chinese people get married. If there’s one point I’m making tonight it’s that Chinese people should not be allowed to get married…That’s the funny thing about San Francisco, it has this reputation of being gay but it’s way more Asian than gay and on some level, gay trumps Asian.”

For the record W. Kamau Bell isn’t actually against Chinese marriage.

Bell’s best quality is his ability to derive humor from seemingly humorless racial topics, distributing laughter equally among the crowd. At no point during the show did it seem like a certain joke got more laughs from people of a certain race. No one else can make the Fillmore ignite in uproarious laughter with a joke skewering the supposed notion that black people were responsible for Prop. 8 passing.

Bell’s “I’m glad to be back!” moment played out exactly like it was scripted. It took place in the perfect setting. Nostalgia and a familiar audience drove Bell’s success at the Fillmore. His biggest challenge, of course, lies ahead: replicating those fuzzy feelings in TV land. 

 

Art Basel diary: Why some people never enter a gallery

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“My favorite part about Basel is that I haven’t seen a single piece of art,” the 20-something gentleman said through giggles, pleased with himself. His statement was indicative of a simple fact regarding the last week in Miami: a lot of people came during Art Basel not to cruise the 20-plus art fairs, but to party.

>>IF YOU ARE INTO THE ART (YAWN) CHECK OUT CAITLIN DONOHUE’S EPIC JOURNEY THROUGH SIX OF THIS YEAR’S BEST FAIRS AND HAPPENINGS 

His quote was delivered on Sunday, the last day of the madness, and though countless individuals were trying to squeeze in one last look at a Mapplethorpe, Moore, or Kahlo, the two of us had found ourselves poolside at the Standard Hotel, sipping chilled white wine with new-found aquaintances who like me, preferred the works of art not found on canvas. They were more into the moments when the art fair doors were closed, when the Internet celebrities, socialites, and party-goers strapped on their heels to attend the high fashion soirees South Beach.  

Here’s the highlights of my Art Basel nightlife experience: 

Thursday, December 6: I landed in the evening with just enough time to put down my bags and hop in a cab to Lords South Beach Hotel. The building had been transformed by artist Desi Santiago into “The Black Lords.” A giant inflatable black dog engulfed the hotel with glowing, hovering eyes. To celebrate Desi’s creation the Lords threw a private party. 

Once you made it passed the several girls blocking the entrance with iPads containing the evening’s guest list (Miami’s accessory of the season, apparently), you were welcomed into a night with free designer water and an open bar hosted by a tequila brand. In attendance was the coolest of the cool, including San Francisco’s very own drag celebrity, performer, and chef Juanita More and New York-based model Shaun Ross.

Friday, December 7th: After a very long day of attending some of the biggest art fairs in South Beach, I managed to put together a cute look and head to a private party being hosted by DJ Mike Q and artist Matthew Stone. My RSVP included details of where to be picked up by yacht, but since I was running a bit behind, I decided to forgo the boat and zip straight to the party. 

I arrived in front of large gates framed by equally large manicured shrubs. Once the gates opened and I was greeted by a man holding yet another iPad. Once cleared, I was led into an extravagant Moroccan-style riad which included another open bar followed by an amazing Paris is Burning-style ballroom performance by MC Gregg Evisu and dancers Ricco Allure, Kassandra Ebony, and Tamara Prodigy. 

In attendance was San Francisco’s very own performance artists boychild and Dia Dear. I also ran into Shaun Ross again and snapped a quick photograph of him living for the evening’s ball.

Saturday, December 8: My nightlife highlights actually occurred during the day at the NADA Friends and Family pool party, hosted by New York-via-San Francisco performer Alexis Blair Penney of the House of Chez Deep. 

The afternoon started with a spectacular lip sync and performance of Rihanna’s “Diamonds” by Sam Banks, another New York-via-San-Francisco-based drag persona from the House of Chez Deep.

The day’s artists were absolutely captivating and led the audience on a visual journey that occupied the entire of the Deauville Beach Resort‘s majestic outdoor pool area. The day ended with a stunning performance from San Francisco-based performance artist Dia Dear, who had stripped nude and spray-painted herself a very Miami pastel pink. 

Sunday, December 9th: Dehydrated, heat-struck, and exhausted, I found myself cabbing it to the Standard Hotel’s end-of-Basel pool party where this story began. I was determined to take the day easy and nourish myself back to health, but first I had to check out this last event. 

In attendance was San Francisco’s very own drag performer Ben Woozy, LA-based Internet celebrity and fashion icon Niki Takesh, and photographer-model Angela Pham, from the reality TV show Gallery Girls.

I left the pool party early that evening in need of some serious rest and relaxation. I returned to my hotel and had a burger at the local tiki bar and grill by the pool, and spent my last evening at the Russian Turkish Baths’ Amythyst Room. I’m pretty sure though, you’ll never sweat the party out of this boy. 

Art Basel diary: SCOPE-ing, Context-ualizing, and a quick dip in Fountain

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Last week, Miami was swept up in Hurricane Art Basel and goddammit if we weren’t there to cover the thing. Check out Caitlin Donohue’s past posts on the scene in South Beach, and the rundown on Wynwood and Art Asia. Here’s her take on SCOPE, Context, and Fountain

SCOPE: This fair focuses on contemporary art, and always has some mind-blowing, large-scale stand-outs (check out my run-down from last year.) I even ran into my old friend, rhinestone hamburger — who was joined by his friends this time around, rhinestone can of Spam, rhinestone bagel sandwich, and more. America!

In terms of artists I actually wrote the info down for, Galerie Art Felicia from Liechtenstein had a glorious, one-woman show of Anke Eilergerhard’s cake freaks, made of highly-pigmented piped silicon. You need to see these vaguely threatening odes to domesiticity. They were a great counterpoint to Oakland artist Scott Hove‘s fanged cakes, pastries menacing on totally different levels. 

Other winners: Edgartista Gonzalez‘s mega ink drawing, Ferris Plock’s banquet paintings at the White Walls’ booth, Carlos Aires’ “La Vie En Rose” collection of pink record singles cut into skulls, geckos, triumphant figures, and soldiers — and the turbans that the boys from London’s fledgling gallery Ivory and Black were wearing. Madeleine Berkhemer‘s electric blue “Fruitbasket” (a statue of some stunning gams, stilletos, fringe-y underwear, sans torso) fit in perfectly with my current love of stripper homage. “Art that has no sexual connotation has no reason to exist,” says the Netherlands artist on her website. Here, here. 

Context: We braved the crushing crowds of Sunday afternoon for this fair with one goal alone in mind: to see the Banksy walls. I’ll write more about them in my Street Seen column next week, but here’s the basic rundown: Banksy did his soul-crushingly popular stencil art on five public walls around the world (two in Bethlehem), and those five walls found their way to Miami this week, presented by Context and a new photosharing platform called I PXL U. Who actually owns these walls? Did Banksy approve their relocation? And, why

I’m hoping to track down someone from Context to explain the finer points of all this, but for now I’ll just say it was really something to see all those walls behind red velvet ropes, each with their own oddly-attired (what was up with those pointy hats?) security guards, for all the world like some kind of performance art… hmmm… well anyway, more on that later. 

Besides Banksy, Context and the attached Art Miami (Context was another one of them fair-in-fair thingys) were too crushed with people to really enjoy by the way-too-late hour we got to them on Sunday afternoon. I did, however, manage to appreciate Cuban multimedia artist and woodworker Alexandre Arrechea’s looping skyscrapers and Eva Bertram’s photo series capturing the maturation of her daughter Herveva. 

Fountain: This was my first time at this seven-year-old Wynwood fair, and it provided a much needed counterpoint to the flash and fade of the rest of the mega-expos on our voyage, even if there was no complimentary St. Germaine spritzers at Fountain art fair. What it did have was tons of community-oriented art, at price points that were actually, actually thinkable for your average alternative culture journalist (unlike the others. Sample sign at NADA Art Fair: “signed, numbered edition of 100. $1,000 for all six prints. Bargain!” And maybe it was?)

You enter Fountain through a grassy lot rendered dusty and tired by our late-in-the-game arrival. There was Ryan Cronin’s giant inflatable pink bunny in one corner by the stage where New York’s Tiki Disco played earlier in the weekend, and a geometric, angled sculpture equipped with battery charging stations for the fest-goer on the move. The lot’s wooden walls were covered with murals coordinated by Atlanta’s Living Walls street art conference. 

Inside, it was a creative hothouse. Really, like sweaty. But the art was a lot fresher than at some of the other fairs: spray paint canvases by Los Angeles’ Annie Treece, Amy Winehouse prayer candles by Miami heirloom conjurer Evo Love (Amy Winehouse occult, it seems, is big this year — read my post on the Untitled art fair for news of Winehouse tarot readings), and of course, not-poop.

“I just want you to know, it’s not poop.” I had been examining New York artist Virginie Sommet’s walls of small glass boxes, decoratively arranged in an ornate frame and filled with the results of three colonics she did in one week, when the artist herself popped up at my elbow.

“It’s undigested food, stuck in the colon due to fear and stress,” she continued. If a child sees a scary dog while eating a piece of bread, Sommet explained, that bread doesn’t make it to the toilet, instead staying in the colon until one does an experimental art piece. What inspired the work? “I wanted to go forward in my life,” she said calmly. And as luck would have it that year, boutique chain Cream Hotel was putting together a group project for Fountain in which 11 artists explored their relationship with the bathroom (“a place of unique significance on a personal, cultural, and social level,” the company’s press release put it.)

Thank god for art. Until next year, BASEL BASEL BASEL

Appetite: 10 best spirits launched in 2012

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Each year holds a range of interesting spirits released from around the globe. As the craft spirit industry continues to explode, there were many exciting newcomers this year. Here are some of the best of what’s crossed my desk in 2012.

FORD’s GIN ($27) –  The 86 Company is a new venture from spirits and cocktail world stars Simon Ford (former International Brand Ambassador for Plymouth Gin), Jason Kosmas and Dushan Zaric (owners of New York’s Employees Only bar, authors of Speakeasy). Just last month, they released Caña Brava Rum (a Panama rum, aged 3 years), Aylesbury Duck Vodka, and Ford’s Gin. It’s the gin I’ve been mixing with at home in every kind of cocktail from a basic gin and tonic to complex Ramos Gin Fizz.

The gin’s bright citrus-juniper properties shine in each – and the price is right. Master Distiller Charles Maxwell, of Thames Distillers, worked with Ford to develop Ford’s Gin, made with nine botanicals, including juniper, coriander, cassia, jasmine, bitter orange, grapefruit peel. A nice, local connection (and environmental plus): distilled gin is shipped in bulk to and bottled by our own Charbay in Napa, cut with fresh Mendocino County water.

HIGH WEST CAMPIRE WHISKEY ($54) – Though I’ve been partial to Balcones Brimstone when it comes to a wild and wooly American smoked whiskey (in Balcones’ case, a corn whiskey smoked with Texas scrub oak), High West’s new Campfire continues in that rugged vein,  smoky with Old West charm. Bourbon, rye and smoky single malt are blended together in a spicy, woody, sweet, floral whole that makes me crave BBQ.

IMBUE PETAL & THORN Vermouth ($27) – From Portland and the creators of bittersweet vermouth Imbue (Derek Einberger, Neil Kopplin, and Jennifer Kilfoil), Imbue’s Petal & Thorn is a gorgeously bitter gentian liqueur using homegrown beets for color, alongside cinnamon and menthol – a truly unique elixir that’s lovely with soda on the rocks, in twists on classic cocktails like the Negroni, and on its own.

TEMPUS FUGIT KINA L’AVION D’OR ($35) – Fresh off the heels of its unparalleled Crème de Menthe and Crème de Cacao last year, Tempus Fugit does it again with Kina L’Avion D’or. Reminiscent of Lillet and Cocchi Americano but with a more intense flavor punch and elegant bitter quotient, it’s made from a hundred year old recipe from a Swiss distillery… a shining beauty in the quinquina family of aperitifs, distinct with quinine bite. http://www.tempusfugitspirits.com

1512 SPIRITS Poitín ($39)Poitín is a rare Irish spirit made in this case from potatoes and barley (the word poteen refers to small pot stills in which the liquor is historically made). Clear, bold and light, it evokes cucumber and summer, with the spirit of an eau de vie and robustness of a white whiskey. There’s nothing quite like it.

WAHAKA MADRE CUISHE MEZCAL ($80) – New to the US this year, Wahaka Mezcals are solid across the line, from an affordable Espadin Joven ($30) to an award winning Tobala ($80). I especially appreciate the earthier Madre Cuishe ($80), made from the wild agave plant of the same name, evoking fresh earth, cigar ash, citrus even fresh, green vegetables. If you get a taste of their Real Matlatl Tobala Mezcal ($125), it’s blissfully like sucking on a stone, intensely earthy, fascinating – for the mezcal aficionado.

CHATEAU de LAUBADE BLANCE ARMAGNAC ($55) – From a Gascon, family-run Armagnac house established in 1870, this clear, refined Armagnac has more in common with an elegant grappa or pisco than beautifully rough and ready Armagnacs. Airy yet substantial with pear and floral notes, the lack of color is due to it being an unaged Armagnac. The purity of the base, made from 100% Folle Blanche grapes, shines. Consider it the cleaner, lighter side of brandy.

LEOPOLD BROTHERS FERNET ($35) – First tasting Leopold Brothers’ Fernet straight from the vat as it was fermenting when I visited their family-run Denver distillery in Sept. 2011, its release this year yielded a lighter, layered fernet-style amaro, where ginger, mint, cacao and floral notes peek out alongside the menthol bitterness Fernet is known for – the brothers (Todd and Scott) added sarsparilla root and molasses for a distinctly American touch.

GLENFIDDICH MASTER MALT Edition ($90) – This limited-edition whisky was released in September from the classic distillery, one of only four in Scotland still owned and run by the same family since the 1800′s. At 18,000 bottles, it’s small production for Glenfiddich, celebrating their 125th anniversary. Malt Master Brian Kinsman crafted this double-matured whisky, which spent roughly 6 to 8 years in used Bourbon barrels, then 4 to 6 years in sherry casks. Sherry characteristics hit first but don’t overpower, with accompanying brine and spice.

FOUR ROSES 2012 Limited Edition SINGLE BARREL BOURBON ($90)  – A bracing bourbon at 100-114 proof, depending on the barrel, with only 3600 bottles released, Master Distiller Jim Rutledge has personally selected these uncut, unfiltered 12 year bourbon barrels for special release this year, among the more noteworthy whiskey tastes of 2012.
 
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Art Basel diary: The other side of the causeway, street art, Art Asia

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Read part one of Caitlin Donohue’s Art Basel diary: South Beach here

It would be a mistake to characterize the Art-Basel-that’s-not-in-South-Beach parts of Miami as containing more DIY/indie/anti-consumerist detritus than Art Deco land during the arty wheeling and dealing that occured last week (transactions worth, the Miami New Times helpfully noted, approximately the GDP of Guyana.)

Not-South-Beach, after all, included the Design District, where my camera memorably died for the last time during our Florida adventure as I was photographing an exhibit entitled “Architecture For Dogs.” 

So maybe lumping in all the art and murals I saw in the Not-South-Beach neighborhoods is a bit confusing. I hope this helps clarify: Wynwood is the area that has been designated as hipster city clusterfuck, centering on the murals bankrolled by the recently-deceased Tony Goldman and a handful of actually-indie art fairs. It hosts many parties featuring free beer and Chromeo.

The Design District is home to “Architecture for Dogs”, the Louis Vuitton store whose facade has been refurbished by last year’s Art Basel week darling, street artist Retna, and copious amounts of fancy bathtubs on display in local businesses (a must for your post-Basel recuperation.)

Between them, Mid-Town is bisected by a street that becomes absolutly jampacked with art and design fairs (and the patrons who love them), including SCOPE, Context, Red Dot, and more. Also, a fountain accented with brightly-colored butterfly, etc. statues by Brazilian artist Romero Britto, who my companion helpfully clarified, is “the worst.”

Snarkiness aside, should you find yourself in Miami next year Baseling, you’ll want to make the trip away from the Convention Center, fashion, high-falutin’ nightlife, and beach beauties of South Beach, because the art on the mainland can be refreshing, and freakish, and gorgeous. Here’s what we saw:  

HELLA MURALS: Street art was pretty much the reason why I went to Art Basel last year, and it continues to blow my mind, even if the crushing crowds of gawkers on Wynwood’s main drag tend to dull the shine for you after awhile. Fountain Art Fair sponsored some dope pieces, and had the only formal (indoor) showing of Miami street artists I caught at the fair. Miami graff pioneer Hec 1 had a room at Fountain he’d curated, with model trains and canvases sprayed with work by some of the city’s most iconic letter artists.

I’d never seen a pro-Israel artist collective until we wandered into the Bomb Shelter Museum‘s street art complex, where Asturian street artist Belin had done one of the most technicaly proficient murals I’ve ever seen of a stretched-out, insect-proportioned young woman. 

One of the best parts of the week was just wandering the back roads, where some super-talented street artists had taken refuge from the crush. We found Molly Rose Freeman and Danielle Brutto putting up a gorgeous pair of cats on a shack in an abandoned lot, that had been informally transmorgified into an aerosol gallery. 

ART ASIA: This year I was once again blown away by the mini-fair within SCOPE that brings Asian-run galleries from Korea, Japan, Bangladesh, Taiwan, in addition to New York and Miami. 

I’d seen its near-identical showings at Art Asia last year, but even so Miami’s Art Lexing gallery was probably my favorite gallery showing of the week, including Ye Hongxing‘s intricate Buddhist collages, shining rainbows revealed to be made of stickers you’d find on a schoolkid’s notebook when you shove your nose up close to them. Lexing showed them alongside washed-out blow-ups of Quentin Shih‘s photos for the somewhat controversial Dior “Shanghai Dreams” ad campaign. Models in Dior gowns come boxed in glass, unaffected indicators of Western glamour in the middle of prosaic scenes from Chinese country life: a market, a basketball court. 

Also in Art Asia: Buhan, Korea’s Kim Jae Sun gallery brought Sehan Kim‘s dotted homage to Keith Haring and other pop artists, the legends’ work rendered on a Asian skyscaper in a busy nightscape. Seung Yong Kwak‘s “Old Future” geisha remix of Mona Lisa sat a few booths down from Tokyo’s Gallery Tomura, whose entire showing was dedicated to Kazuki Takamatsu‘s eerie depth mapping of ringleted little girls. 

For SCOPE, Context, and more on Fountain Art Fair stay tuned for my final blogstallation

Art Basel diary: Air-kissing South Beach on day one

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Caitlin Donohue does South Beach during the country’s most excessive week of art. Check out her other Basel 2012 posts here

Faced with a daunting calendar, we went straight to the belly of the Art Basel beast on our first day in Miami: South Beach. The centerpiece of this belly, of course, is Art Basel — “Art Basel proper,” as one must call it during a week with over 20 satellite fairs in orbit around the main event.

Tip: do not try to see it all at Art Basel proper. I highly recommend doing it as Lovemonster and I did, starting out with a talk in the Art Salon. The labyrinth of galleries and their art and endless muted hush of high-level art dealings can make the whole affair seem robotic, so it was real nice to witness a coherent, out-loud discussion among human beings. 

The panel focused on Middle Eastern street art as a form of political expression. I got all fangirl about the last-minute addition of French street artist JR (level of geographical appropriateness be damned) to the talk, but was even more thrilled that the moderator was billed as ¨Princess Alia Al-Senuzzi, patron, London.¨ BASEL Other panelists included Bomi Odufunade, director of special projects at London´s outsider art mecca Museum of Everything, and Tala Sanah, author of Marking Beirut.

Conversation focused on the recent appearance of art-focused street art in the Middle East, and how it related to the political scrawls that have long served as stand-in for uncomfortable political conversations between neighbors there. I found the distinction between artists and political followers a little clunky, but the images flashed on-screen behind the panelists of Middle Eastern murals were amazing, and made me want to read Sanah´s book. JR kind of dominated the talk though, with his handwaving Frenchiness, making me wish Odufunade would moderate with a slightly heavier hand. BASEL

We left the talk early because the older Mid-West mom who sat next to us was having trouble not gawking at my pink hair. These creatures abound at Art Basel, providing quite the incongruous counterpoint to the freakish gazelles of South Beach until you realize the oldies are probably millionaires and really, who the hell am I to say that a brokeass alt-culture writer belongs in this scene any more than them? Her shoes def looked better suited to gallery stomping than my not-enough-broken in kicks, so good job lady and next time just take a picture.

Stop number two (after a brief intermission spent in a smoothie shop that was blasting techno music at 2pm MIAMI) was the massive translucent white tent on the beach that is housing Untitled Art Fair. Untitled´s a young buck in its first year of existence, and breaks from the usual fair mode in that a single dude (New York´s Omar Lopez-Chahoud) curated the whole, 50-gallery affair. The venue is flash as hell, foregoing spotlights on the art for primarily natural light, and designed to ¨flow¨ between gallery spaces.

Chicago gallerist Monique Meloche has shown at NADA and Pulse art fairs during Basel week before, but told us that participating in Untitled “is super-different. Omar calls you up and says ‘I want to do something with Justin,’ and then you pick complimentary pieces.”

Justin, of course, being Justin Cooper, whose site-specific rubber hose sculpture welcomed attendees off the beach into Untitled. A smaller creation sat on the floor in the middle of Meloche’s set-up, which also included pieces by Ebony Patterson, a Jamaican-born artist who works with mug shots of male criminals, converting them into ravishing drag queens with DIY-like touches like vinyl flowers cut from common household items. To complete the trifecta (all Untitled exhibitors were allowed three), she paired Patterson and Cooper with Iran´s Sheree Hovsepian, who manipulates dark room proofs to create deceptively simple abstracts. All three, Meloche told us, worked with elements of craft, mixing high and low materials and references. 

Throughout the exhibit you could see touches of Lopez´s personal preferences — there was a lot of abstract work, for example, although I´m not sure you could classify Paco Cao´s dead celeb tarot card prints (at $25, they were the cheapest pieces on sale at the fair) as abstract. Maybe the presentation of them, though. Cao sat in a hidey hole built with gallery walls, screaming out readings he did with the cards of fest-goers. 

Growing discomfort of my neon pink boots be damned, we made it to our third fair of the day, the free-entry (this is pretty much unheard of among Basel week fairs) New Art Dealers Alliance or NADA art fair, in the Deauville Beach Resort. We got a serious hit of hometown pride over the Bay galleries that made it to NADA — Oakland´s Creative Growth gallery for developmentally and otherwise disabled artists was showcasing William Scott´s R&B culture icon paintings, and can I just say that Cindy, Terry, Maxine, and Dawn of En Vogue have never looked lovelier. We also got to check out Oakland´s Et Al Projects, and SF´s CCA Wattis Institute and Queen´s Nails

And I know what you´re thinking and yeah duh, we´re partying too. Like, with mansions and shit. boychild (who along with another member of our SF-does-Basel crew, Dia Dear, were the subject of Marke B.´s Super Ego column last week) tipped us off to ¨The Body As Lightning Conductor,¨ a private party which turned out to be in a mansion you got to via yacht. We all stood around this Spanish-style mansion (or, y´know, ducked into the well-appointed library) housing drinks from the open bar with aforementioned Mid-West millionaires, high fashion West Coast club kids. All retired to the ballroom (!) to check out a vogue crew tear it down around midnight. 

Then, lacking a cab or cabfare, I got in a buncha strangers´ car (I think the dude sitting shotgun was a rapper), allowed them to buy me fries from the Wendy´s drive-thru, and then ditched them when they got mired in the standstill traffic going through Wynwood, charged my phone on some DJ´s powerstrip who was playing a set in a cigar factory, danced while it charged, and then made the Fountain Art Fair after-party with a buncha street artists/street art festival organizers BASEL

Chris Brown´s painting entitled ¨Chompuzz¨ is on display at hipster clusterfuck Basel Castle tonight, which is pretty much my only priority to see tonight. Center of the art world! BASEL!

Live Shots: Drag Queens on Ice (with the SF Bulls!)

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They twirled, twisted, leapt, and also sometimes fell, on their very well-padded booties. Glitter dusted the smooth rink, as the drag queens took the ice.

Fun for the whole family, except for maybe the last renegade routine that incorporated a taser (shield the little ones eyes!). Who knew that drag queens had so many talents? No seriously! There were some truly sophisticated ice moves dished out in this performance. I can see it now: a traveling ice capades performance by drag queens that becomes a hit worldwide. Disney on Ice, watch out! I can’t really think of a better way to ring in the holiday cheer than with beautiful ladies, dressed to the nines, giving their all as they slide, shimmy and slip across the frozen water.

And to top it all off, our fabulous professional hockey team, the SF Bulls, joined in! Happy Holidaze San Francisco!

More photos here!

Next level: this weekend’s SF Youth Arts Summit takes SOMArts

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San Francisco’s next great designer, sculptor, or filmmaker could possibly be in attendance this Sat/8 at the second annual San Francisco Youth Arts Summit taking place at SOMArts Cultural Center.

Maybe the next big things will be Maeve Fitzhoward and Brandy Ruedas, two youth artists who we met who will be showcasing – and selling, hey – their printmaking projects from Out of Site youth arts center, which will help host Saturday’s science-fair-meets-arts-gala. Fitzhoward and Ruedas also dish out advice to other artists through their positions on the Out of Site youth advisory board.

The Guardian also spoke with another Out of Site participant Mari Galicer, who’s been taking the digital media class this past semester. Galicer has learned how to create and manipulate film using programs like FinalCut Pro and Photoshop. Right now she’s working on a film with a group of peers about the city’s 11th district. If you stop by to see her, smile pretty – she’s putting together footage of this weeks’ Art Summit for an upcoming promotional video for Out of Site.

The summit will feature a total of 200 teenage artists from over 20 youth arts organizations. Attendees will also get to check out autuers from YBCA’s Young Artists at Work program, the Children’s Creativity Museum, and BAYCAT‘s base of budding Bayview media types.

While you’re perusing the various works of art you may want to indulge in some printmaking at the Out of Site bartering bank and ATM (Art That Matters) machine, or unleash your inner filmmaker by creating a stop-motion video at the mobile animation studio. If you’re a wordsmith, show off your literary skills at a poetry workshop with members of the WritersCorps, SF Mime Troupe, and TILT, the independent film center for young people.

SF Youth Arts Summit

Sat/8, 2-5pm, free

SOMArts Cultural Center

934 Brannan, SF

www.somarts.org

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)