Stage

The Mitchell sister

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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3
The Mitchell sister

sarah@sfbg.com

Porn heiress Meta Jane Mitchell Johnson is running a little late when I arrive at the Mitchell Brothers O’Farrell Theater, the adult entertainment establishment her father Jim Mitchell and uncle Artie Mitchell founded on the edge of the Tenderloin, just blocks from City Hall, July 4, 1969.

Johnson, 32, recently became co-owner of the theater and invited me over to discuss her vision for this notoriously hardcore strip club and the challenges she faces in an industry dominated by the Déjà Vu corporate strip club chain, in a town whose political leaders are still trying to figure out how best to regulate the clubs to ensure that their predominantly female workforce is properly compensated and protected from harassment in safe, sanitary conditions.

A young guy on the front register ushers me into a side room. The walls are decorated with photographs that recall the people and players who have made this club such a storied San Francisco institution and a landmark in the history of the sex industry.

There’s an image of a topless Marilyn Chambers, the star of Behind the Green Door, the porn film the Mitchell brothers shot and screened at the theater in 1972 and was a major hit after it became known that Chambers was also the wholesome face on Ivory Snow soap flakes box.

There is a photo of Artie with a young raven perched over his shoulder. It was taken in 1990 during a trip to Aspen, Colo., to support gonzo journalist Hunter S. Thompson, who worked at the club in the 1980s and was facing serious charges, including sexual assault and possession of drugs and explosives, that eventually got dropped.

Another shows both the Mitchell brothers, photographed when they were still young and rakish and battling the vice squad, even as they entertained the local political elite.

Today the brothers are dead, Artie from bullet wounds inflicted when Jim shot him with a rifle in February 1991; Jim from a heart attack in July 2007. And now Jim’s oldest son, James Mitchell, 28, is in jail awaiting trial for allegedly beating his ex-girlfriend Danielle Keller to death with a baseball bat in July 2009 and abducting their baby daughter, Samantha.

Unlike his father, who continued to run the Mitchell porn empire after serving less than three years for voluntary manslaughter, James is facing life behind bars.

“He is charged with six serious felonies and is facing life imprisonment with no possibility of parole,” Marin County Deputy Chief District Attorney Barry Borden said recently. Johnson told me that her brother no longer owns stock in Cinema 7, the corporation the Mitchell brothers founded to oversee their burgeoning sex business.

This latest family tragedy occurred in the wake of a $3.74 million class action suit that was settled in 2008. Brought by three MBOT dancers, the suit led to valid claims by 370 dancers who complained about Cinema 7’s “piece-rate” wage system. Under that system, the club compensated dancers solely for the number of private dances performed, waived meal and rest periods, and failed to reimburse dancers for costumes, props, and makeup.

Since then the club ended the piece-rate system, but introduced chips customers must buy to procure lap dances and encounters in small, curtained private rooms. On a recent night, the girls at the O’Farrell Theater remained smiling and bright-eyed as they succeeded in getting some customers to purchase chips for lap dances and private encounters. But the rest of the crowd remained largely silent and mostly tight-fisted as customers watched the club’s exotic dancers perform on its disco-balled stage.

All of which left me wondering if Johnson can succeed in overcoming her family history and reputation to make a difference for her workers and community while facing a nationwide recession in an industry dominated by an out-of-state chain.

 

THE UNLIKELY SAVIOR

Johnson greets me dressed in Ugg boots and jeans, apologizes for being tardy, and leads the way upstairs to the theater’s office so we can talk.

I first met Johnson in 2007 (“Behind the Mitchell’s Door,” 07/22/09) when she arrived at the theater in knee-high boots, clutching a massive lime handbag and a tiny dog named Baby. During that first encounter, three months after her father died, Johnson confided that when she took over the office, it was full of dildos dancers had given the Mitchell brothers. Placing her dog on the pool table that dominated the office, she said she planned to massage all this male energy toward femininity.

Today it looks as if she has started to deliver on that promise. The pool table is gone. The sofa where Hunter S. Thompson used to sit remains in the room. But now a clothesline runs between the office walls, draped with a stripper’s glove, stilettos, and a G-string emblazoned with the word “Gonzo,” presumably in honor of Thompson.

“It was a little thing we made to give away,” Johnson laughs.

She introduces her youngest brother and club co-owner, Justin. “Me and Justin are close. We are the owners and we are making some changes,” Johnson explains. “We are making the prices more reasonable so customers don’t have to spend an arm and a leg just to get a lap dance. And we’re going to hold events like poetry slams. We are trying to make the club fun again. We definitely see a hit due to the economy, but we’ve also been hit by the decision from the class action lawsuit.”

Johnson insists she and her brother aren’t “your typical strip club owners.”

“We‘re in a symbiotic relationship with our dancers,“ she says. “That sets us apart from other clubs. The dancers are our employees. We pay them minimum wage and workers comp. We cover their Healthy San Francisco costs. We incur a lot of expenses legally employing our dancers. But instead of crying about ‘our handicap,’ she said, referring to treating dancers as employees, “my goal is to show we can manage the club without a pimp mentality, without a ‘How much can you shake them down for?‘ approach.

“A lot of our employees have been here a long time and have had to deal with all the painful violent stuff too,” she continued. “And folks are still here, even though their hours got cut and they are not making as much money.“

In 2007, Johnson told me that she resented the family business when she was growing up. “The boys could go inside, and I couldn’t,” she recalled. It wasn’t until 2004, when she was working as a mortgage consultant in a cubical farm in San Ramon that Johnson began to take pride in the business “as something that had taken care of us through the years.”

Johnson, who became the club’s scheduling manager in 2005, recalls the shock of losing her dad in 2007. “It was like being dumped in icy water,” she says. “At first we didn’t know how to handle it. But we learned. Five years ago, I was much more liable to listen to advice. But I need to be able to fall asleep feeling good. That involves treating people a certain way. I don’t think any other strip club in the country is being run the way this one is.”

Johnson got married and went on maternity leave in 2008. ” When my son was six months old, I came back for the club’s 40th anniversary party and I realized, they need me — both of us [she and her brother]— as owners, steering the proverbial ship. No one else wants to be held accountable. We never discussed selling. Our father built this place. It’s completely shaped our lives. Good or bad, it’s ours.”

 

TOUGH INDUSTRY

As a nude strip club, Mitchell Brothers’ O’Farrell Theatre stands in direct competition with Crazy Horse on Market Street and the Déjà Vu-owned clubs including the Market Street Theaters, Gold Clubs and other spots in SoMa, and most of the clubs in North Beach. The exception is Lusty Lady, the only unionized, worker-owned peepshow in the country.

“If you walk into the Gold Club in San Francisco, well, there are 50 other Gold Clubs in the country, so, it‘s generic,“ Johnson says. “But they‘ve got their business model. We‘re not trying to copy Déjà Vu or Crazy Horse. We‘re the Mitchell Brothers. It‘s been part of us and our whole history.“

Dancers agree that the Lusty Lady isn’t in competition with Déjà Vu.

“They’re Walmart, and we’re the mom and pop store on the corner,” Lorelei*, a dancer at Lusty Lady, said. “At the Lusty, we pride ourselves on being alternative and having tattoos and piercings.”

Some dancers, who we’ve indicated with an asterisk after their altered names, voiced fear of being identified as critics of Déjà Vu’s business model.

“If Deja Vu found out I was shit-talking them I would probably get fired and be blacklisted from all their clubs,” Sugar* said. “If I were to get blacklisted, I’d be totally screwed because there are no other clubs in San Francisco,” where she doesn’t feel pressure to do more than dance, “which is not my thing.”

“Or the Lusty Lady, which doesn’t pay enough to cover my bills,” she continued. “But Deja Vu is notorious for being a terrible company to work for, mainly because of their outrageously high stage fees.”

Other dancers say they had to pay stage fees at the Déjà Vu-owned Hungry I, and sometimes went home empty-handed after eight-hour shifts when uninvited touching was common.

“The number one thing that would improve our work experience is if someone actually forced Deja Vu to stop charging us stage fees,” Amber* said. “Almost no one outside the industry knows that dancers pay money to go to work. A lot of customers think the clubs pay us, like, thousands of dollars. In San Francisco we pay between $100–$200 per shift, sometimes more.”

By law, dancers have the right to choose employee status, versus being considered independent contractors. “But that’s a joke,” Amber added. “If we choose employee status, we’re required to do a minimum of 10 lap dances per shift. The club keeps all that money, and we would get paid $12–$15 an hour.”

But Edi Thomas, counsel for Déjà Vu‘s Centerfolds club, flatly denies that the dancers who perform at Centerfolds (the only nightclub in San Francisco authorized to operate as a “Deja Vu Showgirls“ club) pay stage fees.

“Rather, entertainers who perform at Centerfolds (and/or at Hungry I, the Condor, and Market Street) are paid a substantial percentage of the patron revenues generated from individual dance sales,“ Thomas stated.

“The entertainers are issued Forms 1099 at year-end, reflecting the amounts they were paid by the nightclub,“ she said, which means the dancers are independent contractors, not employees. “These nightclubs operate within the law and make every effort to assure that entertainers are well compensated and perform in safe and lawful environments.

“There are, as in any industry, former and disgruntled workers carrying a desire to harm a nightclub or the industry for their own personal reasons,“ Thomas added. “But those workers do not represent the voice of the majority.“

 

CENTER OF THE STORM

When the Mitchell Brothers founded their empire, it was against a backdrop of organized crime trying to exercise a monopoly on the porn industry. According to a 1977 U.S. Department of Justice report, members of La Cosa Nostra tried to request exclusive distribution of Mitchell Brothers’ porn films.

The Mitchells resisted for years, but DOJ claims they eventually entered into a contract with LCN’s Michael Zaffarano to distribute “Autobiography of a Flea.” the Mitchells also fought City Hall.

During the 1980s, Mayor Dianne Feinstein’s vice squad tried to close the Mitchell Brothers’ operations. But under Mayor Willie Brown, the former attorney for late Déjà Vu strip club owner Sam Conti, SFPD enforcement reportedly eased.

Then in 1997, Déjà Vu started to take control of the city’s sex clubs, introducing stage fees and private rooms. In 2002, three former MBOT dancers filed their suit against Cinema 7. The next year, three other dancers brought suits against Market Street Cinema and Century Theater. And in 2005, Deja Vu settled a class action labor suit with its dancers. Attorney Greg Walston, representing the dancers, said at the time that minimum pay rate would protect dancers from being forced into prostitution to make money.

Deja Vu threatened a counter-suit based on the allegations of prostitution at their clubs, but Walston told reporters: “The record speaks for itself.” Walston used police reports with prostitution allegations to bolster his case and said he was doing the job the District Attorney’s Office should have done.

In July 2008, when MBOT reached its $3.74 million class action settlement, Cinema 7 president Jeffrey Armstrong said that the corporation was “not able to pay the entire amount up front.” Instead, Mitchell matriarch Georgia Mitchell and her business partner John P. Morgan, then cotrustees of the Jim Mitchell 1990 Family Trust, which holds two-thirds of Cinema 7’s shares, pledged stock certificates as security interest.

But the debate about how to treat sex work in San Francisco continues. In November 2008, District Attorney Kamala Harris and Mayor Gavin Newsom opposed Proposition K, a local measure that tried to decriminalize prostitution by forbidding local authorities from investigating, arresting or prosecuting sex workers. They argued that the measure would increase prostitution on the streets, give pimps cover, and hamper efforts to stop sex trafficking. The measure failed.

At the time, Prop. K advocate Carol Leigh and cofounder of the Bay Area Sex Workers Advocacy Network said, “We feel that repressive policies don’t help trafficking victims, and that human rights-based approaches, including decriminalization, are actually more effective.”

Today, erotic dancers must identify which of a tangle of regulatory entities is the appropriate venue to lodge complaints. District Attorney spokesperson Erica Derryck said Harris is dedicated to prosecuting violent crimes committed against all San Franciscans, regardless of whether they happen in a club or an alley.

“If there are two drug dealers and one attacks the other, we’d prosecute. But that’s not to say there won’t also be consequences for underlying criminal behavior too,” she said. “But anyone who has been victimized should be confident of going to the police and reporting any incident.”

Derryck said public health and safety complaints can be lodged at entities that provide permits and licenses, including the Planning Department and Entertainment Commission.

“There might not be any criminal activity involved, but this route hits clubs in the pocket and is worth considering if dancers want to represent their grievances,” she said.

Meanwhile dancers say there is still pressure to do more than just dance in some clubs. “For some dancers, the clubs feel fine,” Lorelei says. “It’s a safe space where no ads are needed. They see it as a fair exchange. But if you just want to dance — when one girl is doing this, and another that, how are you supposed to make money?”

Other dancers wish managers wouldn’t abuse their power. “Sometimes they back you up,” Amber said. “Other nights, someone insults you and they won’t help.” And many wish management would try to make the clubs fun again.

“It used to be a party, but now it’s about the cheapest dirtiest fuck you can get,” Lorelei said. “Taking stage fees created a dark environment that carries over to the customers. It’s like we’re goats in a petting zoo begging, saying give me money, give me coke.”

 

FAMILY BUSINESS

Attorney Jim Quadra, who represented the dancers in the MBOT class action suit, said that for all the talk about treating dancers right, the Mitchells’ interest was money.

“At the time, a group of people thought the agenda was to get dancers to do more than dancing because that’s what brings in the revenue,” Quadra said. “But Meta comes off much better than the rest of her family.”

During the trial, Jim was asked if there were meetings where Cinema 7 personnel defined what they meant by a “lap dance” in the piece rate system.

“You need a lap for a lap dance,” Mitchell replied. “You are getting down to like, you know, lap dance, erotic theater, America. And your question is like just a waste of the public’s slender resources, like drop[ping] a basketball in the ghetto and asking, ‘Did you define what that is for them?'<0x2009>”

Johnson, who voluntarily took the witness stand, was asked if there was any reason dancers would be afraid of her father. “He can be a little gruff and he can be cranky, a grouchy old man,” she replied.

Today Johnson is moving ahead with a vision she began to outline in 2007, then put on hold until December 2009, when a law suit about the family trust fund was settled.

“We settled everything out of court in December with my grandmother, which was a nice Christmas present,” she says, confirming that she and her siblings succeeded in removing their 83-year grandmother, Georgia Mae Mitchell, as trustee of the Jim Mitchell family fund. They replaced her with their mother, Jim Mitchell’s ex-wife, Mary Jane Whitty-Grimm, who also has custody of James’s baby daughter, Samantha.

“Danielle’s mother has some personal problems … that made the court reluctant to give her custody of the baby. so they gave Samantha to Mary, who is a nice woman, who is married with a family,” former San Francisco D.A. Terence Hallinan told me, after James Mitchell replaced him with another private criminal defense attorney, Douglas Horngrad, in March.

In court filings related to the family trust fund, Mitchell matriarch Georgia Mae claimed her grandchildren’s lawsuit was intended to deny her jailed grandson James his share of the trust to defend against his serious felony charges.

“Justin asked me to take money out of the trust account of his brother James, and send it to his mother instead of paying his criminal defense attorney, Terence Hallinan,” the Mitchell matriarch claimed.

I asked Hallinan if the trust fund was the reason James Mitchell changed attorneys. “Yes and no,” Hallinan said. “It definitely had to do with money and who was going to run the club. The poor grandma, she is such a nice person. She was trying to play fair and be nice to all the kids. It’s not a really healthy family. ‘Rafe’ [James] is where he is. In my opinion, he is still not clear what happened or why.”

Johnson, for her part, says her brother James has mental health issues. “I don’t accept what he did,” she said. “I’m not making any excuses for it. He’s either insane or he’s a monster. But the family has an obligation to make sure he has legal defense. He was always a beneficiary of the trust. But he fired his lawyer, which is the worst thing he could have done.”

A restraining order Keller secured five days before she was murdered claims Mitchell abused her for years, had mood swings, used cocaine, and was addicted to methamphetamines.

“Danny should have left,” Johnson said.

“It’s been painful to read the comments people leave,” she continued, referring to online reaction to her brother’s arrest that suggest the Mitchells are bad seed and should be wiped out. “It’s not because James is a Mitchell, or because there’s some bad gene.”

Rather, she said he had serious unaddressed problems, “a time bomb that was going to explode and then it did in just about the most horrific way imaginable.”

“When I was 13, my father shot my uncle Artie. And when I was 31, James killed Danny,” she adds. “So I hope I don’t live to be 103.”

 

WOMEN’S WORK

In 1985, the O’Farrell Theater’s marquee famously read, “For show times call … ” followed by Mayor Feinstein’s phone number. But that was another era.

“I don’t know Dianne Feinstein,” Johnson says, as she shows me a cartoon R. Crumb drew in 1985 of then-Mayor Feinstein as Little Bo Peep, with a bunch of men, including political and law enforcement leaders, peeking out from under her skirts. “I know my father was never very fond of her. And I’m sure her reasons for wanting to shut the club down were based on the idea that women are being exploited and that we need to save them.”

Johnson says some of their dancers are single moms; some are young girls who can’t get enough work at retail jobs to pay their bills; and others are college students and graduates.

“There are as many stories as there are dancers. But the stereotype is that dancers are being exploited and have to be protected because they can’t protect themselves and no one really wants to dance. But when I came through the club door, I realized that many women want to do this and get upset if people try to save them. Some people feel that working in a strip club is bad, wrong, dirty. No. But it can be if you are pushed into it and don’t want to do it.”

Dancers the Guardian spoke to confirmed that they dislike being framed as victims. “When we are painted as victims, we look stupid,“ Lorelei said. “All we want is to make sure that folks are following the labor code and providing the same basic, decent working conditions you‘d get if you were working at a coffee shop.“

But dancers know that some people are titillated by the idea of women being taken advantage of. “They don’t want that fantasy to go away, that she’s really a good girl and doesn’t want to do it,” Lorelei said. “If it turns out we are not traumatized, horrified, or disenfranchised, it ruins the whole fantasy.”

She fears that political leaders know bad things are happening but don’t want to talk about them for fear it implies they are permitting them. “The attitude is these women aren’t real, they are sex workers, so if they get raped or go missing, who cares?” Lorelei claimed. “We can’t admit they are the babysitter, the girl who sits next to you at the office.”

When Johnson began working at MBOT, she was shocked that the dancers were naked. “But no one is forcing anyone to be here,” she says. “Sure, some women dance out of necessity. But there are women who are really into it … What’s bad is the exploitation.”

It’s hard to tell from the outside whether the MBOT dancers are feeling better about their working conditions these days or whether having a woman in charge makes a big difference.

On a recent Saturday night, we were charged $40 to enter the club. The ticket gave us access to the theater’s main stage, where a succession of ethnically diverse and athletically built girls pranced, pole danced, and eventually took it all off — in tasteful fashion — as the customers threw tips on stage.

A friendly girl asked if we’d like some company but backed off gracefully when we declined to do more than chat. No one else tried to hustle us for the next hour, and we didn’t get the sense that these women were desperate to make more money. The private rooms remained empty during our visit. But there are VIP rooms that we didn’t have access to, and it’s possible more hardcore stuff was going on elsewhere in the club.

As we left, a tour bus pulled up outside, full of tourists who pressed their noses against the bus windows to eyeball the famed Mitchell Brothers establishment, drawn just to gawk at this titillating and complicated San Francisco institution.

Johnson and Mitchell believe their club gives women a path to financial independence and that having a female in charge makes a difference. “They don’t need a man,” Johnson says. “In most strip clubs, the pay is all under the table, and the girls keep cash in shoe box under the bed.”

“Dodging the IRS,” Mitchell adds.

But they recognize that some dancers may be coming from abusive situations. Johnson said she realized one dancer was in trouble when she asked to be booked for every shift. “I looked at the situation and saw 16-hour days in stilettos and an exhausting schedule. It took a woman’s insight to work out what was going on.”

“It goes back to a woman’s touch, ” Mitchell says.

Johnson blames this nation’s puritanical roots for the abiding disapproval toward the sex industry and those who work in it.

“But it’s come a long way,” Mitchell interjects.” When this place first started, it got raided non-stop. Now it’s much more acceptable than 20 years ago. In the next 20 years, I’m optimistic that prostitution will be decriminalized, at least in our city, if not in our state.”

So is prostitution happening as much as some dancers say it is? “You can’t penalize people for surviving,” Johnson says. “What dancers do outside clubs is their business. We don’t have control over them. All we can do is worry about them. We don’t condone illegal activity inside the club. We don’t encourage or support it. That’s our official take.”

Johnson acknowledges the O’Farrell Theater may have the reputation for being perhaps the most hardcore club in the city. “But everything that happens here, happens elsewhere,” she says. “It’s the same exact deal except they don’t care at all, and we’re a family-run business.”

Mitchell observes that the O’Farrell Theater is huge part of the city’s tourism industry. “When conventions come through, we’re one of the prime tourist spots, along with Fisherman’s Wharf and the Golden Gate Bridge,” he said.

“San Francisco is known for its freewheeling sexuality, like the Folsom Street Fair,” Johnson adds. “People say San Francisco is Oakland’s slutty sister. And people come here because this club is an institution, a landmark in San Francisco.”

So can Johnson make a difference against this convoluted backdrop?

“It’s a benefit to have a female in management,” Johnson claims. “When we come up with an idea, I think: How will the dancers feel? We’re on the same team. I treat them like teammates. We’re not in a battle over who gets the most money. I can see through things. Women manipulate men, and dancers are in the business of manipulating men. It’s a sale. It’s a hustle. They have that mindset. But I say, no, you don’t need to make up situations. You just tell us what’s up. But that’s not the normal attitude. In most clubs, it’s ‘Shut up, do what we say, and pay your fees.'”

Johnson says she was recently at the AT&T store, and the girl asked where she worked. “I said, at a strip club. People find that incredibly interesting. This girl was 23 and she was not comfortable with the idea of dancing, but at the same time she was fascinated by it. And it’s not going away, women dancing and stripping, You can hate it; you can love it — it doesn’t matter.”

After so many years on the San Francisco scene, MBOT is striving to be a legitimate part of its neighborhood and the city’s business community. And to Johnson, some of that involves unfinished business.

“Lou Silva was the artist who did the original mural of whales on the club‘s wall. That‘s what I remember as a child. My dad and uncle were connected to that community and the underground comic movement in the late 1970s. They made money, they wanted to spread the love around, so they did a giant art project on the side wall. And a couple of years before my uncle died, they started to redo it. But the project stopped when my uncle was shot. We are going to bring the whales back. We‘re working on it with an Academy of Art class. It will be far more peaceful and calm than a crazy jungle scene on the wall. We want to redo whales to demonstrate that we are interested in more than just sex and exploitation. We want to be connected to our community again.“

Noting that the new mural is part of the beautification of Polk Street, Johnson concludes: “The mural on the wall is unfinished because of Artie‘s death. Now it‘s time to finish it, not to have unfinished art on the wall because of some horrible, violent incident. It‘s an investment to show we are not the Mitchells everyone thinks we are.“

Renaissance Man

David Talbot
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Renaissance Man

MUSIC/STAGE/LIT When I meet Ise Lyfe in downtown Oakland, the 28-year-old MC is sporting a button-down shirt, slacks, cardigan, and a purple and pink tie. Put a Wall Street Journal under his arm and he might blend in with the lunchtime business crowd. He’s fresh from a meeting with one of the distributors of his company, Lyfe Productives, hence rocking business casual.

Seeing Ise “in character” is appropriate, given his latest endeavor: a theatrical show, Pistols & Prayers, and the book of the same title (available on iUniverse) on which it’s based. After a successful one-off performance at Berkeley Rep — and a tour involving the show, book signings, and rap gigs — Pistols returns for a three-night run at Oakland’s Fox Black Box Theater benefiting nonprofit Youth Movement Records. According to Ise, his pitches of the book to African American studies departments have resulted in 21 course adoptions.

“You have good books in universities, like Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop, but not contemporary texts from a hip-hop artist,” he says . “My book’s a collection of prayers, poems, journal entries, essays, anecdotes. But it’s also palatable for hip-hop heads. You can sit down and blaze through it.”

As Ise suggests, Pistols is an eclectic affair. Its unity comes from the author’s political sensibility. The poems recall the late-1960s explosion of African American poetry documented in anthologies like 1972’s New Black Voices, even as Ise updates the frame of reference. Most compelling are the nonfiction prose meditations, recounting, for example, his visit to Ghana, the murder of Oscar Grant, and his ambivalence about Barack Obama.

Such material might easily prove resistant to dramatic presentation, but Ise is no stranger to the stage; he has performed spoken word since age 17 and rocked HBO’s Def Poetry Jam in 2006. While loosely following the book, the stage version of Pistols is a genuine theatrical experience. Using a minimalist set, spotlights, and a video screen, Ise brings Pistols to life with support from DC of KMEL, folksinger Melanie Demore (who punctuates the proceedings with African pounding sticks) and celloist Michael Fecskes.

“It’s a collage,” Ise says. “We bring together hip-hop, folklore, spirituals, and [Fecskes] playing the cello brings in this Americanized background. You’re able to see the clash of it onstage.”

At many rap-related theatre shows, the cast members are actors who fail miserably at hip-hop. But Ise is a real rapper. When comparing the state of contemporary hip-hop with its golden age, he can rip a verse from KRS-One’s “Ah Yeah” with all the furious swagger of the original before dropping into a comically tepid rendition of Drake’s “Best I Ever Had.” He also has acting chops. Seeing Ise transform into one of his characters, a dope fiend named Uncle Randy based on addicts he knew as a kid in Oakland’s Brookfield neighborhood, is impressive: his eyes go glassy, his face and body contort with tics and twitches as Randy delivers his satirical, cracked-out observations on America.

Artistic ambitions aside, Ise has turned to theatre and books as a way of getting more exposure in the overcrowded, blinged-out rap landscape. Make no mistake: Ise Lyfe gets around. He tours nationally, is a commissioner of arts and cultural Affairs in Oakland, and counts among his fanbase luminaries like Alice Walker and Dave Chappelle. He has two nationally-distributed albums under his belt, spreadtheWord (Hard Knock, 2006) and The Prince Cometh (7even89ine, 2008), which has moved more than 30,000 units. Still, he admits, “We have a hard time getting the same coverage as my counterparts.”

“Normally I’d be recording my next record,” he says when asked about the two years since Prince Cometh. “But I want to put that money and energy into expanding our audience then dropping a record that changes everything.”

“There’s no one here who sells more records, fills more shows, or does anything more provocative than us,” he says. “I keep hearing, ‘Nobody’s trying to hear that shit you’re talking about.’ But the numbers say somebody is. It’s interesting that Ise Lyfe is an afterthought when I run this shit. And I mean that humbly.” 

PISTOLS & PRAYERS

Fri/21–Sat/22, 7:30 p.m.; Sun/23, 4 p.m.; $10–$20

530 19th St., Oakl.

(510) 832-4212 www.iselyfe.com

Stage listings

David Talbot
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Stage listings are compiled by Guardian staff. Performance times may change; call venues to confirm. Reviewers are Robert Avila, Rita Felciano, and Nicole Gluckstern. Submit items for the listings at listings@sfbg.com.

THEATER

OPENING

The Apotheosis of Pig Husbandry SF Playhouse, 533 Sutter; www.sfplayhouse.org. $20-30. Previews Wed/19-Fri/21, 8pm. Opens Sat/22, 8pm. Runs Wed-Sat, 8pm. Through June 12. SF Playhouse presents the world premiere of William Bivins’ new play, set at the sleazy Lazy Eight Motel, as part of its stripped-down Sandbox Series.

Bone to Pick and Diadem Cutting Ball Theater, Exit on Taylor, 277 Taylor; 1-800-838-3006, www.cuttingball.com. $15-30. Previews Fri/21-Sat/22, 8pm; Sun/23, 5pm. Opens May 27, 8pm (gala opening May 28, 8pm). Runs Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 5pm. Through June 20. Cutting Ball Theater closes its tenth season with a pair of plays by Eugenie Chan.

The Breath of Life NohSpace, 2840 Mariposa; www.brownpapertickets.com. $25. Opens Fri/21, 8pm. Runs Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 5pm. Through June 6. Spare Stage Productions performs David Hare’s drama about a wife and mistress dumped by the same man.

How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Lost My Virginity SF Playhouse, 533 Sutter; www.sfplayhouse.org. $20. Opens Sun/23, 7pm. Runs Sun, 7pm. Through June 27. Aileen Clark returns with a special run of her autobiographical comedy.

"San Francisco International Arts Festival" Various venues; 1-800-838-3006, www.sfiaf.org. Most shows $25. May 19-31. In its seventh incarnation, the fest hosts dance, theater, and other artists from ten countries.

BAY AREA

God’s Ear Ashby Stage, 1901 Ashby, Berk; www.shotgunplayers.org. $15-28. Previews Wed/19, 7pm; Thurs/20, 8pm. Runs Wed, 7pm; Thurs-Sat, 8pm; and Sun, 5pm. Through June 20. Shotgun Players perform Jenny Schwartz’s drama about grief; Erica Chong Shuch directs.

ONGOING

An Apology for the Course and Outcome of Certain Events Delivered by Doctor John Faustus on This His Final Evening Garage, 975 Howard; 585-1221, http://pustheatre.com. $15. Thurs/20-Sat/22, 8pm. This new, relatively short play with the long title, presented by Performers Under Stress, struts and frets a wearying hour upon the stage as actor Scott Baker’s haughty and high-strung Faust, knowing he is bound for hell at the end of the evening, pleads his case before the audience, shadowed all the while by a speechless but expressive Mephistopheles (played with sly showmanship and moody animal intelligence by Valerie Fachman). Free brew aside, there’s little merit in playwright Mickle Maher’s self-conscious rambling, which more than anything chases its own tale — running in semantic circles without progressing anywhere or landing a bite. (Avila)

Andy Warhol: Good For the Jews? Jewish Theatre, 470 Florida; 292-1233, www.tjt-sf.org. $15-45. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2 and 7pm. Through June 20. Renowned monologist Josh Kornbluth is ready to admit his niche is a narrow one: he talks about himself, and more than that, he talks about his relationship to his beloved late father, the larger-than-life old-guard communist of Kornbluth’s breakthrough Red Diaper Baby. So it will not be surprising that in his current (and still evolving) work, created with director David Dower, the performer-playwright’s attempt to "enter" Warhol’s controversial ten portraits of famous 20th-century Jews (neatly illuminated at the back of the stage) stirs up memories of his father, along with a close family friend — an erudite bachelor and closeted homosexual who impressed the boyhood Josh with bedtime stories culled from his dissertation. The scenes in which Kornbluth recreates these childhood memories are among the show’s most effective, although throughout the narrative Kornbluth, never more confident in his capacities, remains a knowing charmer. (Avila)

Company Fat Exit Stage Left, 156 Eddy; www.brownpapertickets.com. $20-25. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through May 29. Exit Theatre and Pumpjam Productions perform Bill Levesque’s darkly comic play, set in the Depression-era South.

Eat, Pray, Laugh! Off-Market Theaters, 965 Mission; www.brownpapertickets.com. $20. Wed, 8pm. Through May 26. Off-Market Theaters presents stand up comic and solo artist Alicia Dattner in her award-winning solo show.

Echo’s Reach Brava Theater Center, 2781 24th St; 665-2275, www.citycircus.org. $14-35. Fri-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 4pm); Sun, 4pm. Through May 30. City Circus premieres an urban fairytale by Tim Barsky.

Fishing Shotwell Studios, 3252 19th St; www.fishingtheplay.com. $25. Fri-Sat, 8pm. Through May 29. David Duman’s new play satirizes foodie culture.

Geezer Marsh MainStage, 1062 Valencia; 1-800-838-3006, www.themarsh.org. $20-50. Fri/21, 8pm; Sat/22, 8:30pm; Sun/23, 7pm. Geoff Hoyle presents a workshop performance of his new solo show about aging.

Giant Bones Exit Theatre, 156 Eddy; (650) 728-8098, www.brownpapertickets.com. $15-50. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through June 19. Fantasy author Peter S. Beagle (The Last Unicorn) penned the source material for Stuart Bousel’s world-premiere play.

*Hot Greeks Hypnodrome Theatre, 575 Tenth St; 1-800-838-3006, www.thrillpeddlers.com. $30-69. Thurs, 8pm; Sun, 7pm. Through June 27. On the principle that when you’ve got it you should really flaunt it, San Francisco’s Thrillpeddlers essay their second revival of a musical by the storied Cockettes. Hot Greeks, which premiered in midnight performances at the old Palace Theater in 1972, was the gleefully crazed cross-dressing troupe’s only other fully scripted musical besides, of course, Pearls Over Shanghai.

While not the Oresteia or anything, Hot Greeks is more than an excuse for a lot of louche, libidinous hilarity. Okay, not much more. But it is a knowing little romp — supported by some infectious songs courtesy of Martin Worman and Richard "Scrumbly" Koldewyn — wedding trashy high school romance with the trashy ancient Greece of Aristophanes and the Peloponnesian War. (Avila)

Marga Gomez is Proud and Bothered New Conservatory Theater Center, 25 Van Ness; 861-6988, www.nctcsf.org. $18-40. Thurs-Sat, 8pm (no show June 25); Sun, 2pm. Through June 26. Gomez performs her GLAAD Media award-winning comedy.

*Pearls Over Shanghai Hypnodrome, 575 Tenth St.; 1-800-838-3006, www.thrillpeddlers.com. $30-69. Fri-Sat, 8pm. Through June 26. Starting July 10, runs Sat, 8pm and Sun, 7pm. Through August 1. Thrillpeddlers presents this revival of the legendary Cockettes’ 1970 musical extravaganza.

Peter Pan Threesixty Theater, Ferry Park (on Embarcadero across from the Ferry Bldg); www.peterpantheshow.com. $30-125. Tues and Thurs, 7pm; Fri-Sat, 7:30pm (also Sat, 2pm); Wed, 2pm; Sun, 1 and 5pm. Through August 29. JM Barrie’s tale is performed in a specially-built 360-degree CGI theater.

The Real Americans The Marsh, 1062 Valencia; 826-5750, www.themarsh.org. $18-50. Wed-Thurs and May 28, 8pm; Sat, 5pm; Sun, 3pm. Through May 30. Starting July 8, runs Thurs-Fri, 8pm; Sat, 5pm; Sun, 3pm, through Aug 8. The Marsh presents the world premiere of Dan Hoyle’s new solo show.

Rhino Boxcar Playhouse, 505 Natoma; 776-1747, www.boxcartheatre.org. $14-25. Wed-Sat, 8pm. Through May 29. A stark spotlight, a vibrant cellist, masked players, and a chairless theatre space greet audience members attending Boxcar Theatre’s Ionesco adaptation, Rhino. Though encouraged to move about freely, most audience members (the night I attended) settled for turning their otherwise static bodies to follow the action occurring in every corner of the small room: a hypersomniac’s nightscapes, a lethargic love affair between a pair of petit bourgeoisie, the slowly unraveling radio announcer reporting on the encroaching tide of rhinoceres, a fraught spinster hysterical over the fate of her pussy (cat). Though a courageous choice in staging, it didn’t quite provide the feeling of the familiar under siege that it could have with more overt interaction with the not-quite-captive-enough public. And while certain of the short snipped scenes were tense and evocative — in particular the homesick lamentations and anxiety-laden dreams of Eugene (Ross Pasquale) — less subtle imaginings such as the intermittent lockstep marches fell flat. Bad German accents have a well-respected place in Monty Python sketches and the like — not so much in a play whose original strength of metaphor doesn’t need such obvious machinations. However, in keeping with an already-established Boxcar Theatre tradition, design elements such as lighting (Nick A. Olivero) and sound design (Sara Huddleston) were impeccable. (Nicole Gluckstern)

*Round and Round the Garden American Conservatory Theater, 415 Geary; 749-2228, www.act-sf.org. $10-82. Wed/19-Sat/22, 8pm (also Wed/19 and Sat/22, 2pm); Sun/23, 2pm. American Conservatory Theater offers a canny and contagious production of Alan Ayckbourn’s 1973 sex farce, one of the gems in the British playwright’s well-loved trilogy, "The Norman Conquests," which variously lands on the same group of related characters — centered on the loveable and lovelorn reprobate Norman (a charmingly unstrung Manoel Felciano) — during the course of a single weekend spent in giddy, desperate, troubled infidelities. Director John Rando and a razor-sharp cast deliver a very entertaining evening. (Avila)

Sandy Hackett’s Rat Pack Show Marines’ Memorial Theater, 609 Sutter; 771-6900. $30-89. Thurs/20-Sat/22, 8pm (also Sat/22, 2pm); Sun/23, 2pm. Starting May 28, runs Fri-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 2pm); Sun, 2pm. Through June 27. From somewhere before the Beatles and after Broadway "Beatlemania" comes this big band cigarettes-and-high-ball nightclub act, recreating the storied Vegas stage shenanigans of iconic actor-crooners Frank Sinatra (David DeCosta), Dean Martin (Tony Basile), and Sammy Davis Jr. (Doug Starks), and sidekick comedian Joey Bishop (Sandy Hackett). The band is all-pro and the songs sound great — DeCosta’s singing as Sinatra is uncanny, but all do very presentable renditions of signature songs and standards. Meanwhile, a lot of mincing about the stage and the drink cart meets with more mixed success, and I don’t just mean scotch and soda. The Rat Pack is pre-PC, of course, but the off-color humor, while no doubt historically sound, can be dully moronic. (Avila)

Speed the Plow Royce Gallery, 2910 Mariposa; 1-866-811-4111, www.speedtheplowsf.com. $28. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through June 19. Expression Productions performs David Mamet’s black comedy.

Very Warm for May Eureka Theatre, 215 Jackson; 255-8207. $38-44. Wed/19, 7pm; Thurs/20-Fri/21, 8pm; Sat/22, 6pm; Sun/23, 3pm. 42nd Street Moon kicks off their Jerome Kern Celebration with this Oscar Hammerstein II script that features Kern’s final Broadway score.

What Mama Said About Down There Our Little Theater, 287 Ellis; 820-3250, www.theatrebayarea.org. $15-25. Thurs-Sun, 8pm. Through July 30. Writer-performer-activist Sia Amma presents this largely political, a bit clinical, inherently sexual, and utterly unforgettable performance piece.

BAY AREA

*East 14th: True Tales of a Reluctant Player Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston, Berk; www.themarsh.org. $20-50. Fri/21, June 4, 11, 18, 9pm; Sat/22, June 12, 8pm; May 30, June 6, 20, 7pm. Through June 20. Don Reed’s solo play, making its Oakland debut after an acclaimed New York run, is truly a welcome homecoming twice over. (Avila)

In the Wake Berkeley Repertory Theatre, Roda Theatre, 2015 Addison, Berk; (510) 647-2949, www.berkeleyrep.org. $13.50-71. Opens Wed/19, 8pm. Runs Tues and Thurs-Sat, 8pm (also Thurs and Sat, 2pm; no matinees Thurs/20, May 29, June 3, 12, or 17; no show June 25); Wed and Sun, 7pm (also Sun, 2pm). Through June 27. Berkeley Rep and Center Theatre Group perform Lisa Kron and Leigh Silverman’s drama about a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown after she begins to question her faith in country, relationships, and herself.

Twelfth Night La Val’s Subterranean, 1834 Euclid, Berk; www.impacttheatre.com. $10-20. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through June 12. You’ve got to hand it to Impact Theatre: they make reimagining Shakespeare look so darned easy. To set a crass comedy about class, obsession, and mistaken identity at "Illyria Studios" in the heart of tawdry Tinseltown seems like such an obvious take, you wonder why it took someone so long to get around to doing it. True, the execution is not as vivacious as last year’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream, but overall, the enthusiastic cast and timeless humor win the night. (Gluckstern)

What Just Happened? Cabaret at the Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston, Berk; 1-800-838-3006, www.themarsh.org. $20-50. Fri/21, 9pm; Sat/22, 8pm. Nina Wise’s show, an improvised work based on personal and political recent events, extends and re-opens at a new venue.

The World’s Funniest Bubble Show Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston, Berk; (415) 826-5750, www.themarsh.org. $10-50. Sun, 11am. Through June 27. The Amazing Bubble Man, a.k.a. Louis Pearl, performs his family-friendly show.

PERFORMANCE/DANCE

"Baggage Allowance" Z Space at Theater Artaud, 450 Florida; www.brownpapertickets.com. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 3pm. $16-20. Composer and artist Pamela Z presents her world-premiere multi-layered performance work.

"BorderOUT Collaborative: Noche de Inspiracion y Tradicion" Red Poppy Art House, 2698 Folsom; 826-2402. Fri, 8pm. $10-15. Music, theater, spoken word, acrobatics, stilt walking, and more from BorderOUT’s LGBTQ immigrant artists.

Crooked Jades with Kate Weare Dance Co. Noe Valley Ministry, 1021 Sanchez; 454-5238, www.noevalleymusicseries.com. Sat, 8pm. $20. The old-time music group performs with the modern dance company.

"Dream Come True: All-Female Battle and Showcase" City Dance Studios, 10 Colton; www.myspace.com/allfemalebattle. Sat, 8pm. $10-15. MCs, DJs, musicians, and dancers participate in this b-girl competition.

Sara Shelton Mann and David Szlasa Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, Novellus Theater, 700 Howard; 978-2787, www.ybca.org. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. $30. The choreorgrapher and media artist present a world premiere collaboration, tribes/dominion.

"2010 Rhino Benefit Spectacular" Eureka Theatre, 215 Jackson; 1-800-838-3006, www.therhino.org. Tues, 8pm. $20. Raise money for queer theater pioneers Theatre Rhinoceros by attending this show, featuing Leanne Borghese, Connie Champagne, Matthew Martin, and other performers.

Watch out sexy Oysters! The Raveonettes are gonna eat you…

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Watch out sexy Oysters! The Raveonettes are gonna eat you…

When I saw that the Danish rock-duo, The Raveonettes, are playing this weekend’s SF Oyster Fest— Sat/15 at Fort Mason– I was quite curious how the two band members felt about the animal/food at the heart of the party. Strangely enough, I found a blog post that lifted the mystery and erected another.

Sune Rose Wagner and Sharin Foo are an interesting pair of slightly awkward and wonderful creatures who pluck out stellar ’50s summer-style pop hooks, add in tainted surf guitar and sweetly sing lyrics that aren’t afraid to address the shitty things in life: rape, drugs addiction, betrayal and other Debbie Downers. I can imagine their sound blasting under the San Francisco sun to an outdoor crowd, but thought it was funny to imagine them strumming at an event created for the consumption of bivalve molluscs, or easier known as oysters or shelled ocean friends. I wondered if their publicist/tour manager had to ask them if they liked eating these slimy things before agreeing to take the stage?

raveonettes dining

Due to the fact that a quick internet browse came up with a blog post from Wagner and Foo themselves, I’m guessing there were no hesitations. The post explains an evening dining experience in New York, chomping on none other than oysters. The photos were obviously taken via camera phone and apparently their waitress “was the best part about the meal.” But here’s what the post had to say about shells:

Foo: “We love oysters. It’s always so interesting to try different oysters at different restaurants.”

Wagner: “They were really great! Well served, fresh, with a nice little sauce that went with them.” 

Foo: “Well also, the fact they’re an aphrodisiac, we’ll have to deal with that later on too…”

raveonettes oysters

Have to “deal with that later?” Aphrodisiacs? What??? Foo didn’t believe him either and writes something about not “feeling anything yet” while chugging her glass of wine. But with another quick interweb click, I discover that oysters are in fact a sexy food. Here’s how LiveScience.com described this weird fact:

“Many foods (bananas, asparagus, carrots, avocados) are considered aphrodisiacs because they resemble the penis or testicles. Oysters resemble a vagina. The Romans placed the oyster high on their list of prized aphrodisiacs. Casanova, the legend goes, would eat 50 raw oysters for breakfast. Yet interestingly, oysters (and pine nuts, another ancient aphrodisiac) are high in zinc, which is necessary for sperm production. Raw oysters are also high in D-aspartic acid and N-methyl-D-aspartate, which increased testosterone levels in one study on male rats, which could in theory increase libido, according to Karen Boyle of Johns Hopkins Hospital. “The data is questionable and mixed, but oysters do make a nice appetizer,” she said.”

Oysters resemble the female genitalia? Well, ok yes. Eat up San Francisco…

oyster vag

 

The Raveonettes w/Cake, Jackie Greene, Thao & The Get Down Stay Down

Sat/15, 11am, $30

The Great Meadow at Fort Mason

(Intersection of Bay and Laguna Streets)

www.oreillysoysterfestival.com/

 

It’s reigning men!

Sue Vaughan
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It’s reigning men!

Thrillpeddlers peddle more Cockettes in Hot Greeks and SF Playhouse gets kinda Guignol with Slasher

On the principle that when you’ve got it you should really flaunt it, San Francisco’s Thrillpeddlers essay their second revival of a musical by the storied Cockettes. Hot Greeks, which premiered in midnight performances at the old Palace Theater in 1972, was the gleefully crazed cross-dressing troupe’s only other fully scripted musical besides, of course, Pearls Over Shanghai, which Thrillpeddlers revived to long-running fame almost a year ago and which will run in repertory with the limited-run Greeks.

While not the Oresteia or anything, Hot Greeks is more than an excuse for a lot of louche, libidinous hilarity. Okay, not much more. But it is a knowing little romp — supported by some infectious songs courtesy of Martin Worman (book and lyrics) and Richard “Scrumbly” Koldewyn (music and additional lyrics, and musical director-accompanist for the revival) — wedding trashy high school romance with the trashy ancient Greece of Aristophanes and the Peloponnesian War.

As Athens U. prepares for the big game against traditional rival Sparta, pent-up frustrations on and off the field reach new heights when Tri Thigh Sorority’s own buxom-and-then-some head cheerleader, Lysistrata (played to deadpan perfection by Michael Soldier), leads her squad in a revolt against male domination, leaving the boys literally hard up (prostheses and the rest of the wonderful costuming on display by Kara Emry and Morningwood). A little gridiron frisking around (encouraged by the rousing patriotic ditty, “Everybody’s Got a Buddy on the Front,” featuring the always impressive Connie Champagne as dean’s wife Clitoristra) and finally a little sexual affirmative action by Lysistrata make everything all right in the end.

You’d expect Pearls to be a hard act to beat, but director Russell Blackwood’s Greeks is a blast — lovingly detailed, gamely performed, and voiced by a diverse and charmingly pan-sexual cast, and carefully choreographed, it’s a shrewd and sharply executed production that manages to remain always rambunctiously carefree in tone. But there’s more Cockettes mayhem in the second half of the evening, which is devoted to a floorshow menagerie of greatest hits and a chronological musical trip down memory lane with narrator Scrumbly Koldewyn, who begins things in Gertrude Stein drag for a rendition of “Gert’s Postcard” from the 1971–72 New Years Eve show Les Etoiles de Minuit, before taking over at the piano.

Together with Hot Greeks, the brightly executed and equally entertaining pieces on display in the floorshow serve to remind audiences of the perennial zest in much Cockettes material as well as the considerable talent that was there under all that glitter and pubic hair.

Texas cinematic massacre
 
Male domination gets a feminist comeuppance in Slasher, at SF Playhouse, but the effort seems both more serious and less supple than the joyfully subversive sexual pandemonium in Hot Greeks.

As the only breadwinner for her meds-addled wheelchair-bound mother (Susi Damilano) and kid sister (Melissa Quine), Sheena (Tonya Glanz) suffers run-of-the-mill humiliation and exploitation as a waitress at an Austin eatery frequented by film nerds like shaggy good-natured acquaintance Jody (Cole Alexander Smith). When Jody convinces an aging low-budget horror meister (Robert Parsons) to meet him there, the leering eye of the filmmaker takes in Sheena and convinces her to take the starring role as “the last girl” in his latest project, Blood Bath. Sheena’s big break, if that’s what it is, gets put in jeopardy by her vengeful haute-feminist mother, who plans to disrupt the shoot in no uncertain terms.

Unfortunately, no amount of stage blood can brighten the dreary sense of predictability in Slasher, though capable performances from an impressive cast directed by Jon Tracy go some way toward alleviating the chill lack of chills or the ho-hum aspect of its hardly fresh or revelatory feminist angle on the horror genre. Playwright Allison Moore has a talent for dialogue, though, and this regional premiere still manages to show her off as someone to watch.

Hot Greeks
Through June 27
Thurs, 8 p.m.; Sun, 7 p.m., $30-69
Hypnodrome Theatre, 575 Tenth St, SF
1-800-838-3006, www.thrillpeddlers.com

Slasher
Through June 5
Tues, 7pm; Wed-Sat, 8 p.m. (also Sat, 3 p.m.), $40
SF Playhouse, 533 Sutter, SF
(415) 677-9596, www.sfplayhouse.org

Beauty lies

David Talbot
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Beauty lies

MUSIC Let’s get this out of the way: Icelandic composer Jóhann Jóhannsson writes beautiful music. His string sections shiver and swell, his melodies alternately soar and ache, and the electronic textures that he often weaves in amid the more traditional orchestral instruments are unobtrusively massaged into the mix. This is music that doesn’t take warming up to, but rather cocoons you with its immediate approachability and occasional familial resemblances to members of the classical canon as well as more modern film composers such as Nino Rota and Elmer Bernstein. (In fact, many of Jóhannsson’s albums started as original soundtracks, or have been used as such.)

“Prettiness is not something I strive for, even though I know that most people’s initial reaction to my work is to say that it’s beautiful,” Jóhannsson counters bluntly over the phone when I ask for his feelings on the subject. “I don’t think beauty is the main goal. I think it’s more a certain emotional quality. I work in a very visceral way and I try to make music that affects you viscerally and that affects you physically.”

This has certainly been my experience of Jóhannsson’s music, starting with Englaborn, his 2002 debut on the Touch label, and up through his most recent release, last year’s And In the Endless Pause There Came the Sound of Bees (Type), in spite of — or perhaps because of — its beauty. Listening to these classical-not-classical albums, it is hard not to feel that familiar tug inside — the affective prelude to either laughing or crying — that often occurs when one encounters something beautiful.

Composer Benjamin Britten once wrote that “It’s cruel, you know, that music should be so beautiful.” Britten then cataloged the different types of cruel beauty music allows the listener to access: there is “the beauty of loneliness and of pain: of strength and freedom,” “the beauty of disappointment and never-satisfied love,” and “the cruel beauty of nature and the everlasting beauty of monotony.”

The kinds of beauty described by Britten — beauty attenuated by pain or loss — are present in Jóhannsson’s music, enriched by the context of its conception. Englaborn’s icy and delicate arrangements were conceived as a compliment to the violence and emotional ugliness of the play it originally scored. Fordlandia (4AD), Jóhannsson’s monumental 2008 album, was inspired in part by Henry Ford’s abandoned prefabricated industrial town built in the Amazonian rainforest in 1928, itself a monument to failure. And In the Endless Pause … is an expanded soundtrack to Marc Craste’s animated eco-parable Varmints, a critique of the environmental costs of unchecked urbanization told with a cast of rodents. When asked who his ultimate fantasy collaborator would be, Jóhannsson immediately names the late, great depressive Belgian chanson specialist Jacques Brel.

Despite the unabashed emotionality of his music, with its darker spells of sturm und drang , Jóhannsson discusses his work matter-of-factly. “I think what I’m interested in is the clash of culture and nature, or of technology and nature,” he says. “I don’t write ‘absolute music.’ It always starts with a nonmusical idea.” Better to leave the gushing to the critics, I suppose — a charge that could certainly be leveled at this particular profile. But I know I won’t be the only one reaching for a handkerchief when Jóhannsson and his six-piece ensemble take to the Great American Music Hall’s stage. Yes, it is cruel that music can be so beautiful. But hearing it is nonetheless sublime.

JÓHAN JÓHANNSSON

With Christopher Willits

Fri/14, 9 p.m. (doors at 8 p.m.), $21

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell, SF

1(888) 233-0449

www.gamh.com

 

Our Weekly Picks

David Talbot
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WEDNESDAY 12

MUSIC

Fishtank Ensemble

It takes more than a swift set of strings or a Balkan backbeat to be able to stake a claim on the Gypsy music bandwagon, but the Bay Area’s Fishtank Ensemble slides smartly into what basically amounts to an ephemeral category by embracing its wider implications. From sinuous, sepia-toned swing to muscular gitano Flamenco to Serbian drinking standards, Fishtank Ensemble’s new CD Woman in Sin highlights their flexible musicality. Its tightly-knit collaborative compositions evoke both the roving influences of the Roma, and their far-flung connectivity. Skillfully balancing the talents of an operatic saw-playing chanteuse, Romani-trained violinist, slap-happy Serbian bassist, and Andalusian-inspired ax man, their endless variety leads to sublime cohesion. (Nicole Gluckstern)

8 p.m., $18.50–$19.50

Freight and Salvage Coffeehouse

2020 Addison, Berk.

(510) 548-1761

www.thefreight.org

THURSDAY 13

EVENT

A Fundraiser for the Haight-Ashbury Street Fair

Bands will battle, cars will crash, people will rage — tonight is not for the faint of heart. Join five Bay Area bands as they duke it out on stage to win the headlining slot at the 33rd annual Haight-Ashbury Street Fair. The contestants are the Jugtown Pirates, the Tell-Tale Heartbreakers, Project Pimento, Franco Nero, and the Swamees. All proceeds benefit the street fair, a cultural celebration for San Francisco that spotlights emerging and established bands and artists. The night concludes with a crash-up derby contest. (Lilan Kane)

9 p.m. (doors at 8 p.m.), $7

Paradise Lounge

1501 Folsom, SF

(415) 252-5017

www.paradisesf.com

FRIDAY 14

FILM

The Big Surf Weekend

Despite the fact that the ocean in these parts scares the shit out of me, I harbor a dreamy fondness for surfing. Tan boys with nice upper backs, VW vans — oh, and the zen of riding the waves, obviously. Viz Cinema’s surfing film festival provides an excellent reason to paddle out to Japantown — they’ll be showing a double header of the first two Endless Summers, and a unique triple feature of Japanese shorts. It includes the daredevil beach bums of Monster Wave in Cape Ashizuri, and Glacier Diary, which is not about surfing, but as the Viz Cinema website assures us, employs “similar filming techniques used to capture waves.” Pretty sure they mean the film crew pulled a wake and bake, and used “brah” as endearment while filming. (Caitlin Donohue)

Various show times (through Sat/15), $10

Viz Cinema @ New People

1746 Post, SF

(415) 525-8000

www.newpeopleworld.com

SATURDAY 15

EVENT

Tejiendo Justicia en Chiapas

Chiapas, Mexico is home to some of the most badass populist activists the world has ever seen. Merely witness the Zapatistas 1994 takeover of San Cristobol de las Casas City Hall when NAFTA took effect (you can, too — the Zapatistas’ skilled use of media marked them as early freedom fighters of the information age). But resistance takes less combative forms in the state, also. This free bilingual presentation highlights the efforts of Tzotzil and Tseltal indigenous women who have formed an artisan co-operative in their villages to autonomously improve their economic circumstances, preserve artistic heritage, and remain independent from domestic servitude and forced matrimony. Co-founder Celia Santiz-Ruiz is ready to teach. ¡Viva la lucha! (Donohue)

2 p.m. and 4 p.m., free

Mission Cultural Center for Latino Arts

2868 Mission, SF

(415) 821-1155

www.missionculturalcenter.org

PERFORMANCE

Kevin Simmonds’ MASS (Making All St. Sebastian)

Next to a crucified Christ, the most prolific image of Christian martyrdom is St. Sebastian. Sebastian was led by soldiers to a stake in a field, whereupon they “shot at [him] till he was as full of arrows as an urchin.” For artist Kevin Simmonds, Sebastian’s arrow-laden body — which healed completely, hence the saintliness — is a sex symbol and a reason for “celebrating and recasting male sexuality.” Simmonds has gathered over 25 men and had them pose as the hapless holy and hole-y figure in MASS (Making All St. Sebastian), a multimedia work that updates the martyr and culminates with a quasi Catholic mass. That’s good blasphemy right there. (Miller)

7–8:30 p.m., free

Good Vibrations

1620 Polk, SF

(415) 345-0500

www.goodvibes.com

LIT

Naked Girls Reading: The Wild Party

The Wild Party by Joseph M. March is a narrative poem that has to be read to be believed. Banned in 1928, the story captured the decadent age of prohibition and has called forth the wild and wicked natures of readers for nearly 100 years. William Burroughs claimed it as “the book that made me want to be a writer.” Could there be anything more alluring than an all-female cast reading this smoky, gin-soaked homage to lust, kink, and betrayal? How about if they’re naked? Founded one year ago in Chicago by burlesque queen Michelle L’Amour, Naked Girls Reading has inspired franchises all over the world, including this inaugural event in San Francisco organized by “Queen of the Fire Tassels,” Lady Monster. The regular readers on board tonight are Dottie Lux, Isis Starr, Kimberlee Cline, Lady Monster, Ruby Vixen and special guest Carol Queen. See you there. (Paula Connelly and D. Scot Miller)

7 p.m., $15 ($20 for the front row)

Center for Sex and Culture

1519 Mission, SF

www.nakedgirlsreading.net

EVENT

SF Vintage Paper Fair

Encompassing a vast array of what was at one time considered disposable paper products — now beloved as archival gems by those in the know — the ever-growing ephemera market places great value on artifacts. Revealing a sizable portion of our culture’s history, a treasure trove of these goods will be available at this weekend’s annual Vintage Paper Fair, be they original pin-up calendars by artists such as Alberto Vargas, historic post cards of places long gone, timetables of discontinued railways, or posters for classic films. Discerning collectors and amateur hobbyists alike are bound to find a priceless paper gem. (Sean McCourt)

10–6 p.m. (also Sun./16), free

Hall of Flowers, SF County Fair Building

Ninth Ave. and Lincoln, SF

(415) 668-1636

www.vintagepaperfair.com

DANCE/EVENT

Hip-Hop 4 Hope Dance Competition

If you like America’s Next Best Dance Crew, then tune in to this event. The Asian American Donor Program (AADP) is presenting the first Hip-Hop 4 Hope Dance Competition, a showcase for Bay Area dance crews with special guest judges. The crews include Soulidified Project, For the Cause, FUSION, FMC, VIP Vallejo, Alliance Streetdance, Eight Count, and Hydef. They’ll compete for a chance to win a $1,000 grand prize, while the rest of the proceeds will benefit AADP. You can purchase combo tickets for the after party at Suite 181 online. (Lilan Kane)

7 p.m., $15

Palace of Fine Arts

3301 Lyon , SF

(415) 567-6642

www.palaceoffinearts.org

FOOD/EVENT

SF Oysterfest

Oysters have long been associated with stout — when the dark beer was first emerging in the 1700s, the tasty bivalves were common food in pubs. Presented by O’Reilly’s, one of the city’s favorite Irish pubs, the 11th annual Oysterfest brings great food — there are plenty of other options besides the briny treats of the sea — and voluminous drink together, once again. Along for the ride is this year’s impressive live music lineup, including Cake and the Raveonettes. There will be cooking demos. (McCourt)

11 a.m., $30 (14 and under free)

Great Meadow at Fort Mason Center

Laguna and Bay, SF

www.oreillysoysterfestival.com

SUNDAY 16

EVENT

Forbidden Island’s Luau

If you can’t make it to Hawaii this year, you can still get leied by a native on the exotic island of Alameda, during Forbidden Island’s third annual Luau. Tiki lovers have suffered some setbacks lately with the closing of the San Francisco Trader Vic’s, and the rumored closing of the Tonga Room in the Fairmont Hotel to make way for some (gag) condos. But local tiki culture is far from dead: there’s a hot new tiki bar in Hayes Valley called Smuggler’s Cove, and Forbidden Island continues to celebrate the tiki spirit, with a straw thatched interior, giant statues, and a long cocktail menu of scorpion bowls, flaming drinks, and other rum-based, fresh-squeezed fruity surprises. So don your best Hawaiian shirt and haole smile and head to the, um, island for some live hula and fire dancing, Hawaiian BBQ, and live surf music by the Faux Hawaiians and Drifting Sand. (Connelly)

2 p.m.–10 p.m., free

Forbidden Island Tiki Lounge

1304 Lincoln, Alameda

(510) 749-0332

www.forbiddenislandalameda.com

FOOD/EVENT

SF Food Wars: Amuse Brunch (Brunch in a Bite)

Food culture in San Francisco is always changing. Whether it involves downing tasty treats from the Crème Brulée Cart, eating $50 truffle hamburgers, or spending $11 on a cocktail from Bourbon and Branch, foodies are on the scene. So whenever SF Food Wars has a new event around the corner, tickets sell out — fast. With past installments revolving around mini cupcakes, gourmet macaron and cheese, and chocolate cookies, the savory food competition has built a reputation. This time, competitors are crafting up unique brunch dishes capable of bringing your grandma’s frittata recipe to its knees. Warning: this event is not for tiny appetites. (Elise-Marie Brown)

12 p.m., $15

Thirsty Bear Brewery

661 Howard

(415) 974-0905

www.sffoodwars.com

EVENT

Bay to Breakers 2010

It’s been a long time since 1912, the year the first Bay to Breakers took place, raising the city’s morale after the big quake in 1906. Ninety-eight years later, the tradition lives on, as drunken debauchery specialists, nudists, and people in eccentric costumes all strive forward with one goal in mind — making it from one end of the peninsula to the other without passing out. So pull up that gorilla suit, pump the keg, and lace up those Asics, because running outside with your San Francisco brothers

and sisters beats a boring day inside watching reruns of Entourage. (Brown)

8:00 a.m., $39–$50

Steuart and Howard, SF

(415) 359-2800

www.ingbaytobreakers.com

TUESDAY 18

MUSIC

Shout Out Louds

In 2005, the world was introduced to Stockholm quintet the Shout Out Louds, thanks to their upbeat debut album Howl Howl Gaff Gaff. After worldwide success, tours and two successful records, these indie darlings decided to hide away and record their third album Work in a barn on the outskirts of Seattle. The results, as ever, are melodious and danceable and worthy of praise. (Brown)

8 p.m., $17

Great American Music Hall

859 O’Farrell, SF

(415) 885-0750

www.gamh.com

The Guardian listings deadline is two weeks prior to our Wednesday publication date. To submit an item for consideration, please include the title of the event, a brief description of the event, date and time, venue name, street address (listing cross streets only isn’t sufficient), city, telephone number readers can call for more information, telephone number for media, and admission costs. Send information to Listings, the Guardian Building, 135 Mississippi St., SF, CA 94107; fax to (415) 487-2506; or e-mail (paste press release into e-mail body — no text attachments, please) to listings@sfbg.com. We cannot guarantee the return of photos, but enclosing an SASE helps. Digital photos may be submitted in jpeg format; the image must be at least 240 dpi and four inches by six inches in size. We regret we cannot accept listings over the phone.

 

Stage listings

David Talbot
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0

Stage listings are compiled by Guardian staff. Performance times may change; call venues to confirm. Reviewers are Robert Avila, Rita Felciano, and Nicole Gluckstern. Submit items for the listings at listings@sfbg.com.

THEATER

OPENING

Giant Bones Exit Theatre, 156 Eddy; (650) 728-8098, www.brownpapertickets.com. $15-50. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through June 19. Fantasy author Peter S. Beagle (The Last Unicorn)  penned the source material for Stuart Bousel’s world-premiere play.

BAY AREA

In the Wake Berkeley Repertory Theatre, Roda Theatre, 2015 Addison, Berk; (510) 647-2949, www.berkeleyrep.org. $13.50-71. Previews Fri/14-Sat/15 and Tues/18, 8pm; Sun/16, 7pm. Opens May 19, 8pm. Runs Tues and Thurs-Sat, 8pm (also Thurs and Sat, 2pm; no matinees May 20, 29, June 3, 12, or 17; no show June 25); Wed and Sun, 7pm (also Sun, 2pm). Through June 27. Berkeley Rep and Center Theatre Group perform Lisa Kron and Leigh Silverman’s drama about a woman on the verge of a nervous breakdown after she begins to question her faith in country, relationships, and herself.

ONGOING

An Apology for the Course and Outcome of Certain Events Delivered by Doctor John Faustus on This His Final Evening Garage, 975 Howard; 585-1221, http://pustheatre.com. $15. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through May 22. This new, relatively short play with the long title, presented by Performers Under Stress, struts and frets a wearying hour upon the stage as actor Scott Baker’s haughty and high-strung Faust, knowing he is bound for hell at the end of the evening, pleads his case before the audience, shadowed all the while by a speechless but expressive Mephistopheles (played with sly showmanship and moody animal intelligence by Valerie Fachman). The case at hand revolves around a masterwork of nonsense over which Faust (its composer) and the devil compete: a set of journals filled entirely with hatch marks. Why exactly is difficult to understand for more than one reason, not the least being the tedium of the monologue itself, which is only temporarily relieved by the arrival of some cheap canned beer. Free brew aside, there’s little merit in playwright Mickle Maher’s self-conscious rambling, which more than anything chases its own tale — running in semantic circles without progressing anywhere or landing a bite. (Avila)

Andy Warhol: Good For the Jews? Jewish Theatre, 470 Florida; 292-1233, www.tjt-sf.org. $15-45. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2 and 7pm. Through June 20. Renowned monologist Josh Kornbluth is ready to admit his niche is a narrow one: he talks about himself, and more than that, he talks about his relationship to his beloved late father, the larger-than-life old-guard communist of Kornbluth’s breakthrough Red Diaper Baby. So it will not be surprising that in his current (and still evolving) work, created with director David Dower, the performer-playwright’s attempt to “enter” Warhol’s controversial ten portraits of famous 20th-century Jews (neatly illuminated at the back of the stage) stirs up memories of his father, along with a close family friend — an erudite bachelor and closeted homosexual who impressed the boyhood Josh with bedtime stories culled from his dissertation. The scenes in which Kornbluth recreates these childhood memories are among the show’s most effective, although throughout the narrative Kornbluth, never more confident in his capacities, remains a knowing charmer. But the story’s central conceit, concerning his ambivalence over presenting a showing of “Warhol’s Jews” at San Francisco’s Contemporary Jewish Museum, feels somehow artificial. It’s almost a stylized rendition of the secular-Jewish moral quandary and neurotic obsession driving Kornbluth works of the past — or in other words, all surface, not unlike the work of another shock-haired artist, but less meaningfully so. (Avila)

The Diary of Anne Frank Next Stage, 1620 Gough; 1-800-838-3006, www.custommade.org. $10-28. Thurs/13-Sat/14 8pm; Sun/15, 7pm. Custom Made performs Wendy Kesselman’s modern take on the classic. Eat, Pray, Laugh! Off-Market Theaters, 965 Mission; www.brownpapertickets.com. $20. Wed, 8pm. Through May 26. Off-Market Theaters presents stand up comic and solo artist Alicia Dattner in her award-winning solo show.

Echo’s Reach Brava Theater Center, 2781 24th St; 665-2275, www.citycircus.org. $14-35. Fri-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 4pm); Sun, 4pm. Through May 30. City Circus premieres an urban fairytale by Tim Barsky.

Fishing Shotwell Studios, 3252 19th St; www.fishingtheplay.com. $25. Fri-Sat, 8pm. Through May 29. David Duman’s new play satirizes foodie culture.

Geezer Marsh MainStage, 1062 Valencia; 1-800-838-3006, www.themarsh.org. $20-50. Fri, 8pm; Sat, 8:30pm; Sun, 7pm (Sun/9 show at 8pm). Through May 23. Geoff Hoyle presents a workshop performance of his new solo show about aging.

*Hot Greeks Hypnodrome Theatre, 575 Tenth St; 1-800-838-3006, www.thrillpeddlers.com. $30-69. Thurs, 8pm; Sun, 7pm. Through June 27. See review at www.sfbg.com.

*Pearls Over Shanghai Hypnodrome, 575 Tenth St.; 1-800-838-3006, www.thrillpeddlers.com. $30-69. Fri-Sat, 8pm. Through June 26. Starting July 10, runs Sat, 8pm and Sun, 7pm. Through August 1. Thrillpeddlers presents this revival of the legendary Cockettes’ 1970 musical extravaganza.

Peter Pan Threesixty Theater, Ferry Park (on Embarcadero across from the Ferry Bldg); www.peterpantheshow.com. $30-125. Tues and Thurs, 7pm; Fri-Sat, 7:30pm (also Sat, 2pm); Wed, 2pm; Sun, 1 and 5pm. Through August 29. JM Barrie’s tale is performed in a specially-built 360-degree CGI theater.

The Real Americans The Marsh, 1062 Valencia; 826-5750, www.themarsh.org. $18-50. Wed-Thurs and May 28, 8pm; Sat, 5pm; Sun, 3pm. Through May 30. Starting July 8, runs Thurs-Fri, 8pm; Sat, 5pm; Sun, 3pm, through Aug 8. The Marsh presents the world premiere of Dan Hoyle’s new solo show.

*Round and Round the Garden American Conservatory Theater, 415 Geary; 749-2228, www.act-sf.org. $10-82. Tues-Sat, 8pm (also Wed and Sat, 2pm); Sun, 2pm. Through May 23. American Conservatory Theater offers a canny and contagious production of Alan Ayckbourn’s 1973 sex farce, one of the gems in the British playwright’s well-loved trilogy, “The Norman Conquests,” which variously lands on the same group of related characters — centered on the loveable and lovelorn reprobate Norman (a charmingly unstrung Manoel Felciano) — during the course of a single weekend spent in giddy, desperate, troubled infidelities. “Round and Round the Garden” takes place behind the ivy-covered walls of the house where the weekend unfolds, in the titular garden, as Tom (Dan Hiatt) and Annie (Delia MacDougall) meet in uncomfortable tension and bland civility, soon followed by Norman, Annie’s brother and Norman’s brother-in-law Reg (Anthony Fusco), Reg’s wife Sarah (Marcia Pizzo), and Norman’s own far-from-clueless wife Ruth (René Augesen). Stirring up these convoluted relationships is Norman’s fervent desire to seduce one or better yet both of his sisters-in-law, but plot details are really secondary to the chaotic spirit of the dance, not to mention the wonderful ensemble work underway. Director John Rando and a razor-sharp cast deliver a very entertaining evening effortlessly evoking the wandering, convention-flouting — but also still awkwardly conventional — 1970s, as seemingly sophisticated characters prowl (in some cases on all fours) amid the verdant Viagra of scenic designer Ralph Funicello’s magnificent backyard habitat. (Avila)

Sandy Hackett’s Rat Pack Show Marines’ Memorial Theater, 609 Sutter; 771-6900. $30-89. Thurs-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 2pm); Sun, 2pm. Through May 23. Starting May 28, runs Fri-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 2pm); Sun, 2pm. Through June 27. From somewhere before the Beatles and after Broadway “Beatlemania” comes this big band cigarettes-and-high-ball nightclub act, recreating the storied Vegas stage shenanigans of iconic actor-crooners Frank Sinatra (David DeCosta), Dean Martin (Tony Basile), and Sammy Davis Jr. (Doug Starks), and sidekick comedian Joey Bishop (Sandy Hackett). The excuse, if one were needed, is that god (voiced in mealy nasal slang by Buddy Hackett, appropriately enough) has deemed a Rat Pack encore of supreme importance to the continued unfurling of his inscrutable plan, and thus unto us a floorshow is given. The band is all-pro and the songs sound great — DeCosta’s singing as Sinatra is uncanny, but all do very presentable renditions of signature songs and standards. Meanwhile, a lot of mincing about the stage and the drink cart meets with more mixed success, and I don’t just mean scotch and soda. The Rat Pack is pre-PC, of course, but the off-color humor, while no doubt historically sound, can be dully moronic — and the time-warp didn’t prevent someone in opening night’s audience from laying into Hackett’s opening monologue for a glib reference to suicide. Though talk about killing: thanks to the heckler, the actor — son to Buddy and the show’s co-producer (alongside chanteuse Lisa Dawn Miller, who sings a cameo as Frank’s “One Love”) — got more life out of that joke over the rest of the evening than any other bit. (Avila)

Speed the Plow Royce Gallery, 2910 Mariposa; 1-866-811-4111, www.speedtheplowsf.com. $28. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through June 19. Expression Productions performs David Mamet’s black comedy.

Tartuffe Studio 205 at Off-Market Theater, 965 Mission; 377-5882, http://generationtheatre.com. $20-25. Fri/14-Sat/15, 8pm; Sun/16, 3pm. Generation Theatre performs a new English translation of Molière’s classic, in Alexandrine verse.

Tell It Slant Southside Theater, Fort Mason Center, Bldg D, Marina at Laguna; www.tixbayarea.com. $20-40. Fri/14-Sat/15, 8pm; Sun/16, 2pm. BootStrap Foundation presents Sharmon J. Hilfinger and Joan McMillen’s musical about Emily Dickinson.

Very Warm for May Eureka Theatre, 215 Jackson; 255-8207. $38-44. Wed, 7pm; Thurs-Fri, 8pm; Sat, 6pm; Sun, 3pm. Through May 24. 42nd Street Moon kicks off their Jerome Kern Celebration with this Oscar Hammerstein II script that features Kern’s final Broadway score.

What Mama Said About Down There Our Little Theater, 287 Ellis; 820-3250, www.theatrebayarea.org. $15-25. Thurs-Sun, 8pm. Through July 30. Writer-performer-activist Sia Amma presents this largely political, a bit clinical, inherently sexual, and utterly unforgettable performance piece.

BAY AREA

Girlfriend Berkeley Repertory Theatre, Thrust Stage, 2025 Addison, Berk; (510) 647-2949, www.berkeleyrep.org. $27-71. Wed/12, 7pm; Thurs/13-Sat/15, 8pm (also Sat/15, 2pm); Sun/16, 2 and 7pm. If you like Matthew Sweet’s songs you’ll probably like the spirited renditions in this new boy-meets-boy musical, which borrows its title from Sweet’s famous 1991 album. The songs, backed by a solid band in a recessed fake-wood-paneled den at the back of the stage, underscore the fraught but exhilarating emotional bond between two Nebraska teens at the end of their high school careers and the cusp of an anxious, ambiguous independence. The performances and chemistry generated by actors Ryder Bach and Jason Hite under Les Waters’ sharp direction are marvelous, delivering perfectly the inherent honesty and feeling in Todd Almond’s book, while Joe Goode’s beautifully understated choreography adds a fresh, youthful insouciance to the staging. But the story is a small one, not just a small town story, and its short, predictable arc makes for a slackness not altogether compensated for by the evocative tension between the lovers. (Avila)

Oliver! Julia Morgan Center for the Arts, 2640 College, Berk; www.berkeleyplayhouse.org. $24-33. Fri/14, 7:30pm; Sat/15, 2 and 7pm; Sun/16, 1 and 6pm. Berkeley Playhouse performs the Dickens-based musical.

Terroristka Berkeley City Club, 2315 Durant, Berk; (415) 891-7235, www.brownpapertickets.com. $12-20. Thurs/13-Sat/15, 8pm; Sun/16, 5pm. Threshold: Theatre on the Verge performs Rebecca Bella’s drama, based on the true story of a Chechen woman trained as a suicide bomber.

Twelfth Night La Val’s Subterranean, 1834 Euclid, Berk; www.impacttheatre.com. $10-20. Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through June 12. You’ve got to hand it to Impact Theatre: they make reimagining Shakespeare look so darned easy. To set a crass comedy about class, obsession, and mistaken identity at “Illyria Studios” in the heart of tawdry Tinseltown seems like such an obvious take, you wonder why it took someone so long to get around to doing it. True, the execution is not as vivacious as last year’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream; there’s a lot of static standing around, particularly in the thus-rendered anti-climactic final act, and maybe a touch too much reliance on the karaoke machine prop (which is featured at its best during a stirring rendition of “Alone” courtesy of Cindy Im as Feste). But overall, the enthusiastic cast and timeless humor win the night. Especially strong comic performances are delivered by Valerie Weak and Jai Sahai as the troublesome twosome Toby Belch and Andrew Aguecheek while Seth Thygesen as Orsino maintains his now-familiar, yet thoroughly believable persona of oblivious yet jocular playboy. But it is Maria Giere as the cross-dressing, love-smitten Viola who displays the most range — from her ballsy attempts to fully inhabit her disguise as the page Cesario to her cringing attempts to have her beloved Orsino see through it. (Gluckstern)

What Just Happened? Cabaret at the Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston, Berk; 1-800-838-3006, www.themarsh.org. $20-50. Fri, 9pm; Sat, 8pm. Through May 27. Nina Wise’s show, an improvised work based on personal and political recent events, extends and re-opens at a new venue.

The World’s Funniest Bubble Show Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston, Berk; (415) 826-5750, www.themarsh.org. $10-50. Sun, 11am. Through June 27. The Amazing Bubble Man, a.k.a. Louis Pearl, performs his family-friendly show.

PERFORMANCE/DANCE

“Dis-Oriented” Mission Cultural Center, 2868 Mission; www.brownpapertickets.com. Fri, 8pm. $15-20. A trio of Asian American women (Zahra Noorbakhsh, Collenn “Coke” Nakamoto, and Thao P. Nguyen) performs solo works.

“Raw and Uncut Choreography Showcase” Garage, 975 Howard, SF; 518-1517, www.975howard.com. Tues, 8pm. $10-20. With guest choreographer Josh Beamish, plus locals Christine Cali, Andi Clegg, Shaunna Vella, and more.

*Smuin Ballet Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, 700 Howard; 978-ARTS, www.smuinballet.org. Fri-Sat, and May 11-14, 8pm (also Sat, 2pm); Sun, 2pm (also Sun/9, 7pm). Through May 16. $18-56. Smuin is gone, but under the leadership of Celia Fushille, the company has not yet strayed very far from his heritage. The rep is still heavy on the fast and the fun; audiences and dancers alike enjoy it. Fushille’s big addition — and it’s a good one — is Jiry Kylian’s Petite Mort, a marvelous piece of fluff with rolling hoop skirts and twirling foils, set to sublime Mozart. Since the name “little death” also refers to the result of what people do in private, you can read your own metaphor into it. Chinese-American Ma Cong’s French Twist is a hilarious dancing machine run at top speed. Tough to do, well done. Smuin’s Songs of Mahler opens a program that is balanced, fresh, and easy on the eyes. (Felciano)

“Super Hero Movies and Recycled Grooves” de Young Museum’s Koret Auditorium, 50 Hagiwara Tea Garden Dr, Golden Gate Park; 750-3600, www.stagewrite.org. Fri, 6:30pm; May 21, 11am. Free. Fifth graders (from Starr King Elementary) penned the plays, inspired by de Young artwork; professional actors (from StageWrite) perform them.

 

Event Listings

David Talbot
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0

Event Listings are compiled by Paula Connelly. Submit items for the listings at listings@sfbg.com.

WEDNESDAY 12

Bike-In Movie Parking lot across from the Good Hotel, SF; www.disposablefilmfest.com. Good Hotel, 112 7th St, SF; (415) 621-7001. 4pm, free. Celebrate SF Bike Week starting at 4pm with Forage SF’s Underground Market, followed by a raffle at 7pm for cool bike gear, stays at the Good Hotel, and more, culminating in a screening of the Disposable Film Festival 2010 competitive shorts at 8pm. Valet bike parking available from the SFBC.

Write/Walk Meet at Mission High School, 3750 18th St., SF; (415) 252-4655. 6pm, free. Reading at Modern Times Bookstore, 888 Valencia, SF. 7pm, free. Enjoy a walking tour of poems by young poets from WritersCorps workshops at Mission High School that will be displayed in Mission storefronts for the month of May. Participating merchants include Candy Store Collective, Adobe Book Shop, Bombay Ice Cream, Borderlands Books, Dog Eared Bookstore, 826 Valencia, and more. Maps available at participating merchants.

Zhang Huan Sculpture Joseph L. Alioto Performing Arts Piazza, Civic Center Plaza, Larkin between the Main Library and the Asian Art Museum, SF; www.sfartscommission.org. 10am, free. Attend the dedication of internationally-acclaimed Chinese artist Zhang Huan’s Three Heads Six Arms copper sculpture that will be located in Civic Center Plaza through 2011.

THURSDAY 13

Bike Away From Work Party Rickshaw Stop, 155 Fell, SF; www.sfbike.org/btwd. 6pm; free for SFBC members, $10 for non-members. Get the skinny [jeans] on cycling fashion and style at this runway show and Bike to Work Day after party featuring tips on functional finery, complimentary bike valet, DJs, and raffle prizes.

Radical Women on Asian American Heritage New Valencia Hall, Suite 202, 625 Larkin, SF; (415) 864-1278. 7pm, free. Asian vegetarian buffet available at 6:15pm, $7.50. Hear artists Mia Nakano, Lenore Chinn and Nellie Wong discuss turning art into a collective voice for social change and the importance of the visibility of Asian American queers and women to the movements.

Rock the Bike California Academy of Sciences, 55 Music Concourse Dr., SF; www.calacademy.org. 7pm, $12. Celebrate one of San Francisco’s favorite method of transportation at this cycling themed NightLife featuring fun sustainable displays, including a bike-powered blender, a bike-powered DJ stage where you can take a turn pedaling, a performance by “the bike rapper” Fossil Fuel, bike-powered and inspired art, and more.

FRIDAY 14

BAY AREA

Ferment Change Humanist Hall, 390 27th St., Oak.; www.fermentchange.org. 7pm, $10-30 sliding scale. Support a more equitable food system at this fermented foods, culture, and urban agriculture series event where you can taste over a hundred different homemade fermented foods and beverages. Proceeds to benefit for urban agriculture heroes, City Slicker Farms. Bring your own fermented food to share and be entered in a raffle.

SATURDAY 15

Asian Heritage Street Celebration Larkin between Ellis and Grove, SF; www.asianfairsf.com. 11am-6pm, free. Celebrate Asian heritage at this street fair featuring two stages with over 100 music, dance, and other performance acts, an Anime area, a mah jong court, food and drink vendors, a cultural procession, an 8-foot high replica of a human colon, and much more.

Dawn Festival 2010 California Academy of Sciences, 55 Music Concourse Dr., Golden Gate Park, SF; www.dawnfestival.org. 7:30pm, $20. Reboot and Tablet Magazine host this celebration of the Jewish holiday of Shavuot, with Sandra Bernhard, Daniel Handler (aka Lemony Snicket), and more.

Inner Sunset Street Fair Irving at 10th Ave., SF; www.sfpix.com. 10am-8:30pm, free. Celebrate the Inner Sunset at this inaugural street fair set to feature sidewalk sales throughout the neighborhood, live music performances, dance lessons, art, crafts, food, yoga and tai chi lessons, and more.

MASS Good Vibrations Polk Street Gallery, 1620 Polk, SF; (415) 345-0400. 7pm, free. Enjoy this multimedia exhibit by poet and musician Kevin Simmonds called MASS (Making All Saints Sebastian), where he uses photographs, music, and poetry to recast male sexuality by having a diverse range of men pose as St. Sebastian.

SUNDAY 16

Alameda Backyard Chicken Coop Bicycling Tour Meet at 488 Lincoln, Alameda. 1pm, free. Take a self-guided bike tour of the many chicken coops of Alameda and check out a wide range of chicken coops while learning about urban chicken farming, ecological issues, and slow food on this 4.5 mile route. Maps will be provided at the start location and refreshment will be available along the route.

Bay to Breakers Start lines on Mission between Beale and Steuart, SF; (415) 359-2800, www.ingbaytobreakers.com. 8am; registration $48, group discounts available, free to be a spectator. Enjoy this authentic San Francisco marathon, complete with competitive runners and Mardi Gras style revelers, who follow athletes through the city in themed costumes and floats. Call or visit their website for rules and restrictions on alcohol consumption. Don’t forget to dispose of your own trash.

 

Immigrant rights – in Arizona and at home

David Talbot
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0
Immigrant rights – in Arizona and at home

By Angela Chan


Mayor Gavin Newsom and City Attorney Dennis Herrera have publicly opposed the anti-immigrant bill, SB 1070, in Arizona. A diverse coalition of civil rights organizations — including the Arab Resource and Organizing Center, Asian Law Caucus, Bernal Heights Neighborhood Center, Central American Resource Center, Community United Against Violence, Equal Justice Society, La Raza Centro Legal, National Lawyers Guild San Francisco Bay Area Chapter, POWER, and Pride at Work SF — applauds both city officials for taking a strong stand against the Arizona bill. At the same time, we urge Newsom and Herrera to firmly and unequivocally support the implementation of a local policy that protects the due process rights of immigrant youths in San Francisco.

As with SB 1070 in Arizona, the mayor’s policy of requiring juvenile probation officers to report young people to federal Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) before they receive due process has opened the door to racial profiling and torn many innocent youth from their families.

Since July 2008, pursuant to Newsom’s draconian reporting policy, more than 160 youth have been reported to ICE right after arrest, before they even have had a chance to be heard in juvenile court. That means that youth who are completely innocent of any crimes and youth who are overcharged have been reported to ICE.

Despite the veto-proof passage of a policy by the Board of Supervisors last fall that moves the point of reporting from the arrest stage to after a youth is found to have committed a felony, Newsom has insisted on ignoring the new city law. Herrera, in turn, has yet to advise implementation of the new law.

Like the Arizona bill, Newsom’s policy requires reporting to ICE when local officials — in this case juvenile probation officers — merely have "reasonable suspicion" that an individual is undocumented. The factors that probation officers are required to use to determine reasonable suspicion have come under fire for codifying racial profiling into law.

In March, a year and a half after the mayor’s policy went into effect, Chief Probation Officer William Siffermann admitted before the Rules Committee of the Board of Supervisors that the latter factor could lead to racial profiling. A few days later, Herrera stated that this factor had been removed from the policy. However, if any changes have been made to the written policy, they have not been made available to the public.

Another similarity with the Arizona bill: probation officers in San Francisco have not been properly trained and do not have the expertise in immigration law to accurately determine which youth are actually undocumented. Rather, these officers rely on race, ethnicity, language ability, surnames, and accent as a basis for assuming immigration status.
Much like the Arizona bill, Newsom’s policy goes well beyond any obligations under federal law by requiring that probation officers report suspected undocumented youth to ICE. Finally, as with the Arizona bill, the mayor’s draconian policy only compounds the harm to immigrant families caused by an already flawed federal immigration system, which is in drastic need of comprehensive reform. We need humane reform at the federal level. But in the meantime, Newsom and Herrera need to take swift action to restore due process and protect family unity by ending San Francisco’s draconian policy. *

Angela Chan is a staff attorney with the Juvenile Justice and Education Project at the Asian Law Caucus.

John Ross: To stop is to die

Zelda Bronstein
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John Ross: To stop is to die

Editors note: John Ross is finishing up a book tour across the United States, and sending us his impressions of Obamalandia. You can read some of his previous posts here, here and here.

  

I. Baltimore/Washington

 

The Amtrak rumbles into the back end of Baltimore past block after block of abandoned, boarded-up row houses ripe for burning. This city of such magnificent renegades as Edgar Allen Poe, John Wilkes Booth, and Billie Holliday is mapped by grimy pocket ghettoes that made Baltimore a perfect stage-set for “The Wire.” When contrasted against the gleaming, refurbished downtown, these crime-scene neighborhoods incubate urban uprising.  Red Emma’s is one of a skein of anarcho bookstores with names like Sedition, Monkeywrench, and Bluestockings that have welcomed me on this grueling odyssey across the underbelly of Obamalandia. I’m enlivened by the energies these oases exude. Contemporary anarchists seem to have little time for the crippling ideological jousting that drained the lifeblood of my generation. Those bad old days of Marxist Leninist Maoist Trotskyist Stalinesque backbiting seem an absurd nightmare on the barricades of change these days.  

Tiffany, a tenor saxophonist who day gigs at OSHA over in D.C. and puts in after hours at the bookstore-cafe, and I pitch in to unload a busload of Bread & Puppet props for a zany, Zen show at a cavernous performance space Red Emma’s maintains in a vacated church. I get to trundle in the head of Ben Franklin, the villain in B&P’s latest mini-extravaganza in which $100 bills are the most pertinent puppets. A half century after its founding even before Vietnam caught fire, the puppeteers are still serving bread and aoeli to grateful audiences.

In D.C., I speak at the Institute for Policy Studies, a perennial leftist sounding board four blocks north of the White House and a billion light years from power, about how Washington has hooked Mexico on drug war. It is my first visit to the nation’s capitol with a black president in residence in the house that slaves once built. The Capo de Tutti Capos of the most grotesque criminal conspiracy on earth is too overwhelmed by swelling catastrophe offshore in the Gulf that will make Katrina look like a summer squall, impending car bombs in Times Square, and an economy that continues in freefall, to take time out for a chitchat.

On the day I speak in Washington, Teabaggers and their ilk are massing across the Potomac in an open-carry anti-Obama rally — newspaper photos depict white American males with what look like rocket launchers slung over their shoulders. The threats of this nativist scum are not idle ones. The economic collapse has stoked the bumfires that burn fiercely in the dormant craters of the American volcano.

 

 

II. New York
My roots on the North American landmass snake under the lower east side of Manhattan. The Ross (nee Grossinsky) DNA is imprinted everywhere on these mean streets. My grandma Mamie Zief (Ellis Islandese for “Jew”) relocated from Poland to a Rivington Street tenement at the turn of the 20th Century. Although I grew up in the West Village, I went east at an early age; after fleeing the family nest I squatted in the Shastone Monument building on Essex and Houston before escaping to Mexico in the late 1950s. Two of my kids grew up on Second Street and Avenue A, and my son the hiphop mogul still lives 500 yards away from the old homestead (Dante and I are working on a book that bounces off our mutual addictions to black music.)  

My presentations in the Big Apple fit neatly into this geographical schema. I lecture at NYU’s King Juan Carlos Center, once the site of concrete basketball courts where I expanded oodles of adolescent energies. I talk to the Friends of Brad Will at the Sixth Street Community Center where the slain Indymedia journalist, a lower east side rabble-rouser during the darkest days of the Giuliani dictatorship, regularly practiced yoga. Justice for Brad Will remains undone.
And I am lured into Amy Goodman’s state-of-the-art lair for 20 minutes of fame. Democracy Now even sends a car to fetch me up to Chelsea and I induce the stern goddess of left radio to smile — but perhaps it was merely a grimace.  

New York is chockablock with “I Love/Hate New York” minutes. One morning I descend from Dante’s sixth story inferno for a double espresso and the Lowisaida is infested with cops. I approach one of New York’s Finest, an amiable Caucasian, and inquire about the blue plague: “it’s the Will Smith show,” he smiles mischievously. Just then a motorcade of 50 bullet-proofed black vehicles swings off Houston with their lights flashing and sirens screaming and heads down the Bowery to Cooper Union where our commander-in-chief is to make a major speech addressing financial “reform” (in Mexico, we call this “plugging up the hole after the baby has drowned.”)

Goldman Sachs vultures in dark suits and furrowed brows listen intently but go mum to the press when they deadhead downtown back to Wall Street to continue fleecing the public’s pocket.

I step around the corner onto Houston, where a large enigmatic Shepard Fairey montage that references climate change has just been tagged (Dante who is well-versed in such iconography, speculates that the culprit is a tagger named “Nah” who is dedicated to dissing the public art of the stars of this genre.) Gallery slaves have been bussed in to erase the offending stains.  I am wearing my Mexican Electricity Workers tee-shirt, whose black and red colors and clenched fist logo match Fairey’s throw-up, and I am suddenly surrounded by a bevy of documenterians, at least one of whom is just off the boat from Andalusia. They pose me against Fairey’s wall for a thousand-click fashion shoot. New York New York!

Ironically (a word that doesn’t have much scratch here in Gotham), the Banksy flick “Exit Through The Gift Shop” is playing at a grind house across Houston, a cheese ball mockumentary that destroys this world-famous outlaw’s once-pristine reputation for thumbing his nose at power. Indeed, the best thing about the movie is that it is playing right next door to the Yonah Schimmil knishery. I order a kasha knish and sign the guest book with Subcomandante Marcos’s rubric.  

Also a mandatory dining stop in the old neighborhood: the immortal Katz’s (“Send a salami to your boy in the Army”) where pushy New Yorkers of the Hebraic persuasion scuffle to be next in line at the counter of this now 100% Puerto Rican-run deli. The brisket is still to die for.

New York City and environs is now home to a half million Mexicans, mostly from Puebla state, whose slow country drawls are a foil for the tropical machine-gun accents of Puerto Ricans and Dominicans. The Poblanos work in the kitchens of yupped-up food palaces (16 Oaxaquenos were burnt to a crisp walloping pots up in “Windows On The World” on the 108th floor of the Twin Towers on 9/11 day) or slave in 24-hour grocery stores run by Arabs and Hindus and Koreans.  

Mexican elites who have fled here from their imploding fatherland do not much rub elbows with their impoverished compatriots, except when they employ them as maids and babysitters One of the few upsides of the new Arizona Breathing While Brown law is that former pundit and Foreign Minister Jorge Castaneda might be jailed by Sheriff Joe Arpaio and his storm troopers and forced to don pink underwear if he were to be stopped without papers in Maricopa County.

III. BOSTON

The new Boston Tea Party that catapulted Scott Brown into the suddenly Kennedy-less Senate is not an anomaly in a city where the name of Charles Stuart (Google him up) still rings a bell.  

I speak at the Harvard Coop to a handful of bedraggled Harvard Square denizens who have found sanctuary from a driving rainstorm in this hallowed readery. I am invited to the David Rockefeller Center for Latin American Studies to rant at the future leaders of Latin America — but none show up. I spend an engaging evening with Jack Womack, whose “Zapata & The Mexican Revolution” is still the definitive text on the struggle of the incorruptible revolutionary. Jack, now emeritus in Harvard Yard, recently rebuked the Mexican government by turning down a literary prize because of President Felipe Calderon’s role in the firing of 43,000 workers in an undisguised ploy to privatize electricity generation in Mexico, and is currently chipping away at his life work, a history of working class struggle in the state of Veracruz. Jack and I converse in an argot stippled with so many arcane references to social upheaval south of the border that FBI eavesdroppers could surmise we are planning a new Mexican revolution — which, 100 years to the date of the last one, is not such a bad idea.    

I warm up for May 1st rallies by urging attendees at community meetings at the UNITE building in Chinatown and a U-U church in Jamaica Plains to join the protests. There are two marches and rallies set for International Workers Day in Beantown, the bitter fruit of a split in the movement the seeds of which I could not divine.  

On the Boston Commons, I spiel about the first May 1st back in 1886 when 80,000 immigrant workers stomped through Chicago to demand the eight-hour day, a day of solidarity and struggle around the world everywhere except in the country where it was birthed. The Haymarket Martyrs join us for a stroll through the streets of downtown Boston, held aloft by the ubiquitous Bread & Puppet comrades.  

All across Amerikkka, immigrant workers, incensed by the enactment of a law that makes inhaling the air of Arizona a jailable crime if you are a person the color of the earth, were on the march, perhaps a half million (high end estimates) strong — as many as 200,000 in Los Angeles and another 100,000 in Chicago; 25,000 more in Dallas and significant turnouts in New York and Washington but only 6,000 or so in Boston to which Mexicans have migrated in smaller numbers.  

This year’s surge, which was dwarfed by the gargantuan outpourings of 2006, featured a marked absence of Mexican flags as undocumented workers chose to cloak themselves in the Stars and Stripes in response to the feeding frenzy of the Fox News lynch mob.  

Although the condemnation of Arizona Goddamn was vibrant, it must be noted that there have been as many ICE raids under the Obaminators as under Bush and the crackdown on employers is targeting union-organized janitors. David Bacon, whose reportage remains a light in this darkness, recently noted that 175 SEIU janitors are about to be fired in San Francisco, once a sanctuary city for labor.

The People the Color of the Earth rolled through the streets of east Boston with gusto. “No One Is Illegal!” Sandra, my displaced Chilanga guardian angel, and I yodeled in unison with the compas.  “Do I Look Illegal?” read the homemade banner draped around the shoulders of a skinny pre-teener. Many high schoolers wore caps and gowns to highlight the prohibitions on financial aid that doom their college educations to MacDonald’s Hamburger U.

Speaker after speaker in a park down by the harbor  — where, indeed a few hundred years back down the pike the original Boston Tea Party was staged — raged against a system that still consigns immigrant workers to the lowest step on the American food chain. “Justicia! Justicia!” they clamored and their cries were no less relevant than those uttered by the “Martires de Chicago,” as the Haymarket martyrs are known throughout Latin America. By the time I took the mic, all the words had already been spoken but I finished up with the chant of the pensioners’ movement in Mexico City in whose ranks I am enrolled: “Parar Es Morir!” — To Stop Is To Die!

Me and the Monstruo have come to the end of our three month 66 performance journey through Obamalandia but there’s one thing you can count on: “Parar Es Morir.”  I’m not planning on stopping (or dying) any time soon.
  
John Ross will be returning to Mexico in mid- May to begin work on a new book, “From Bebop To HipHop – Fathers & Sons.”  You can consult him on particulars at johnross@igc.org  
        

Draw hot ladies on cycles at Dr. Sketchy’s

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Draw hot ladies on cycles at Dr. Sketchy’s

Get out your crayons, pencils, pens and chalk and pretend like you know how to draw for Dr. Sketchy’s 2nd annual Cute Girls on Bicycles tonight (5/11). Three lovely SF bike ladies will pose on their favorite pair of wheels while the crowd is free to oogle and sketch for 20 minute intervals. Sweeeeet!

Dr. Sketchy’s Anti-Art School is a monthly gig that allows anyone to join in on a night of drinking and drawing. This month’s theme coincides with Bike To Work Day— Thurs/13– and along with the lovely ladies, the stage will feature four hot rides for participants to express their artistic skills, including a sassy orange mixte from PUBLIC bikes. 

The lovely models include bike blogger, Meli Burgueno of BikesAndTheCity, Pelican builder Constance Cavallas and Amanda Lanker, leader of the Pushbike Ladies Ride. No they won’t be naked, you dirty fools, but they may sport a sexy helmet, grip gloves, blinkies and a messenger bag, all great objects to test your creative mind. Don’t worry if you’re not an A+ art student, this event is for sketchers of all abilities– sexy stick figures on bikes are welcome, too.

sketchy's

 

Check out this Chick and Bikes blog for some pre-Sketchy’s inspiration…www.chicksandbikes.blogspot.com/

 

Dr. Sketchy’s Cute Girls on Bicycles

Tues/11, 7-10pm, $10

111 Minna Gallery

111 Minna, SF

www.DrSketchysSF.com

The Daily Blurgh: MUNI Party! (And punk-rock sad)

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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The Daily Blurgh: MUNI Party! (And punk-rock sad)

Curiosities, quirks, oddites, and items (plus a lot about kitties) from around the Bay and beyond

“Scientists have discovered one of the smallest free-living life forms ever, with a genome that looks like a pamphlet compared to a human’s encyclopedia, living in a poison-soaked mine in Northern California.” Uh oh. Hasn’t anyone remembered the lessons of The Boogens? There will be blood.

*****

Brother can you spare a dime (or a couple thousand) for legendary punk club 924 Gilman?

*****

Deport New Jersey? (OMFG this Congressional candidate from Florida is for real)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FgdALsV6AmI

*****

“Among the many contradictions and ironies of Mexican-U.S. relations is the curious case of Cinco de Mayo. It is a holiday in Mexico, yes, but not nearly as important to the national identity as say, Independence Day (Sept. 16). Yet Cinco de Mayo remains a stubbornly prevalent excuse to party in the U.S., perhaps, some argue, because it is more culturally “safe” than honoring Mexico’s independence. The phenomenon is similar to the affection Americans have for St. Patrick’s Day, where just about everyone is invited to don green and get in touch with their inner Irish.” Still, it’s as good an excuse as any to repost this bad-ass trailer-for-a-movie-inspired-by-a-trailer-for-a-movie-that-never-existed.

*****

MUNI, give this driver who threw a party for her unsuspecting passengers, simply out of the kindness of her heart, a raise because a) she is awesome and b) this is the sort of press you should be getting on a more regular basis.

*****

The other Guardian handicaps this year’s Turner Prize shortlist.

*****

Scopitone Week continues! Click here to learn more about Scopitones. Today we begin our focus on the true stars of Scopitones: the ladies. Today’s chanteuse is Kay Starr, who sings her 1952 hit “Wheel of Fortune” in this Scopitone from the early to mid ’60s. Even though this mature diva takes center stage, she has some fierce competition from all the scantily-clad back-up dancers attached to roulette wheels:

 

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

Are you experienced?

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Are you experienced?

THEATER José Sarria is many things: performer, activist, trailblazer, legend, Latino, diva, tenor … So just how many José Sarrias are there? In the latest meta-theatrical reclamation-and-floorshow from playwright-director John Fisher (Medea: The Musical, Combat; Ishi: The Last of the Yahi) you’ll meet several but get no strict count. That’s part of the point and much of the charm in SexRev: The José Sarria Experience, a production of Theatre Rhinoceros, currently ensconced in residency at queer performance incubator Mama Calizo’s Voice Factory.

First, there’s the Sarria of memory, in the mind of our ingenuous, ebullient narrator (Donald Currie), a gay man in middle age reminiscing about his precocious sexual awakening via “the Nightingale of Montgomery Street” in a certain storied postwar/Beat-era bar known as the Black Cat Café. At one point in this fourth-wall–smashing show, staged in the round as the invitingly sleazy Black Cat itself, audience members are invited to share their own first-hand impressions of the pioneering San Francisco drag performer and gay rights activist.

Then there are the Sarrias we meet on stage, played to the hilt by Tom Orr and Michael Vega. Each actor is responsible for an aspect of the Sarria “experience,” but in the insouciant critical consciousness of Fisher’s play, that doesn’t necessarily mean it will go unchallenged. “But José Sarria was brown!” shouts a “heckler” at Orr. “You’re not brown.” The contradiction and ensuing kerfuffle provide Fisher and the audience one way into the continuing political relevance and volatility of his subject matter, of course, and some productive laughs come out of it too. Add to this the real possibility of the “real” José Sarria showing up in the audience one night, and you get a sense of the tangled politics of art, and art of politics.

Frenetically staged, often very funny, endlessly self-referential, and indeed — as one character doesn’t hesitate to complain — a bit long, “SexRev” moves fitfully back and forth across the last several decades of San Francisco queer life and politics. But as a history lesson, a widening of horizons, and a spur to political vigilance on behalf of freedom for everyone, it’s a hell of a lively night out.

Luis Echegoyen’s old school Mission cool

Andrew Lam
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Back when he was a television star in El Salvador, Luis Echegoyen could have little guessed that fifty year later he’d be performing in his own poetry reading in San Francisco of classic Spanish authors (Sat/8, Mission Cultural Center for Latino Arts). But it’s not the least probable feat that legendary Spanish language Bay area news anchor Echegoyen has accomplished — after all, poetry is his retirement project.

Echegoyen was famous in El Salvador when he made his first trip to the United States. A television and stage star, he had joined a troupe of artists who were performing in high schools and colleges across the country in a sort of cultural education tour for North American students. But when he arrived in San Francisco in November of 1962, he stayed. His sister lived here, and he heard that San Francisco State had a top-shelf drama program, where he planned on continuing the five years of formal stage education he had received back home.

But “I didn’t have the English,” Echegoyen tells me. He’s now a stately older gent in a turned-out suit, reminiscent of his days as a storied San Franciscan Spanish language news anchor. He shares his memories with me in a room at the Mission Cultural Center, and they’re fascinating, scenes set in the familiar streets of the Mission, but with reality set at a different angle from historical currencies.

With the education system unassailable, he turned to what he knew best; Spanish language show biz. His first major project was a radio show called Escala de Fama, which was being recorded in front of a live audience at the Victoria Theater. Echegoyen was a rookie at KOFY, which broadcasted Escala, but he could tell the hosts of the variety show needed help.

“The audience was very rowdy,” he recalls. “The announcers were afraid of the audience, they would hide behind the curtains!” He grabbed the mic, and drew on his years of experience during El Salvador‘s golden age of show business, cracking jokes and walking through the aisles of the Victoria. The spotlights followed him, and he hosted Escala for the next 13 years. Luis had arrived in San Francisco.

It’s fascinating to hear someone talk, as Luis does, about the way the Mission neighborhood was generations ago. It doesn’t sound so very different — sure, less fixed gear bikes — but the immigrant families packed into subdivided Victorians were already there, without many of the resources they needed to thrive. This was back before the advent of the social organizations that today call the Mission home. “Kids didn’t have anywhere to go; no parks, no gyms, no after school programs. I said, ‘okay, we need a park, we need a gym,’” says Luis.

Avance Luis! The man in magazine covers

And if talking with the man taught me one thing, it was this; what Echegoyen decides to do, Echegoyen does. To fix the issues he saw, he got in deep with a whole laundry list of community organizations; Bay Area Neighborhood Development, Mission Coalition Organization, and the Economic Opportunity Council, to name a few. He started working on seniors’ issues, delinquency issues, economic issues. Most importantly, he parlayed his growing radio and television celebrity into making change.

At one point, the Parks & Recreation department responded to his entreaties to build a park almost sarcastically, saying that if he wanted a park for his adopted neighborhood, they’d build it — if he could find an empty lot in the well-populated Mission neighborhood. On his way to shoot a news story with his camera crew, Echegoyen saw one, a dump site in the outer Mission/Bernal Hieghts.

He broadcasted from the site, sitting amidst the rubble. “I said ‘this is an empty lot, and we can use it to build a park. Let’s go to City Hall, and ask for a park to be built in this place.” Which of course, he did himself, only to find that Parks & Rec themselves were the property’s owners. Today, the park is there, testament to Echegoyen’s ability to use his broadcast skills and community position to effect change.

“You have to use the media to benefit the community. I went out on the streets, I found problems. Some of the problems were solved, some not,” he says, looking back at his activist career.

Today Echegoyen is retired, the first Latino inductee in the silver and gold circles of the National Academy of Television Arts and Sciences, a winner of a Lifetime Achievement Special Emmy.

“Luis has always been a leader in the community,” says Cynthia Harris, anchor of Univision KDTV’s En la Bahia, a local Spanish language news show of which Echegoyen was producer and host for many years. During his tenure, Luis brought in neighborhood leaders, as well as  local and international Latino artists. Harris says it was projects like these that reflect Echegoyen’s startling impact on San Francisco. “It was an opportunity for the Latino community to have a say — something that previously that hasn’t existed.”

Clearly, this is a man who’s earned his retirement. Although Echegoyen is active in senior education through AARP, two scholarship organizations for low income students, and is currently toying with the idea of organizing an artists’ flea market in the Mission, his pet project of the moment takes the stage at Mission Cultural Center for Latino Arts this weekend.

He’ll be reading poetry, the Spanish language masters. He’s a connoisseur of the art form, having recently recorded four volumes of poetic anthologies he‘s releasing one at a time on CD. “Poetry is so ample,” he tells me, proudly handing over a copy of volume one. “It’s really painful to be choosing which to include on the CDs.”

Sat/8 7 p.m., $15
Mission Cultural Center for Latino Arts
2868 Mission, SF
(415) 643-5001
www.missionculturalcenter.org

A roar from underground

David Talbot
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A roar from underground

arts@sfbg.com

MUSIC When asked if it’s a good time in history to be in a sludgy, uncompromising heavy metal band, High on Fire’s Matt Pike stifles a chuckle: “It is for me, man!” Reached by phone in Los Angeles as he prepares for a show at the El Rey Theatre, Pike is far from loquacious, but clearly enjoying the arrival of hard-earned, well-deserved success. His band, a thunderous, heavily-distorted power trio, bastard son of St. Vitus and Slayer, just signed on for a string of European dates opening for Metallica.

Before they set off across the Atlantic, High on Fire will appear at Oakland’s Fox Theater to play a concert called the Missing Link, a weighty omnibus of a heavy metal bill that brings together two potent touring packages, their itineraries cleverly fused into one mammoth night of music. Pike’s band is joined by tour-mates Priestess, Bison B.C., and Black Cobra. Headliners Mastodon deploys its own retinue of support: Between the Buried and Me, Baroness, and Valient Thorr.

The bands at the top of the bill are living proof of this epoch’s friendly attitude toward challenging, underground heavy metal. Mastodon charted at No. 11 with 2009’s Crack the Skye (Warner Bros.) and Between the Buried and Me hit No. 36 with The Great Misdirect (Victory). Oakland native sons High on Fire stormed into the limelight in February 2010; Snakes for the Divine (E1 Music) debuted at No. 62. Baroness’ Blue Record (Relapse) was the critical darling of 2009 — Decibel magazine named it album of the year — and it peaked at No. 117.

Those still working their way up from the bottom are no less optimistic. Speaking on the phone while peregrinating around L.A., Jason Landrian, singer/guitarist for crushing S.F. duo Black Cobra, is loving life. “I think it’s a great time to be in a heavy band. There are a lot more people paying attention and taking the music a lot more seriously.” Black Cobra, which was recently signed by legendary label Southern Lord Records, has ample experience with and appreciation for the bands it will share the stage with at the Fox. “For us,” Landrian says, “it’s a thrill to be involved with what seems like a cross-section of what’s going on right now in the underground scene.”

Superficially, the bands on the bill are easy to circumscribe within geographical boxes. Mastodon and Baroness both hail from Georgia, a state that is quickly becoming one of the nation’s most fertile breeding grounds for independent metal. Between the Buried and Me and Valient Thorr are also from Dixie, storming out of North Carolina university towns Greensboro and Chapel Hill, respectively. Priestess was founded in Montreal, and Bison B.C. in Vancouver (in the eyes of American rock critics, everything Canadian seems related). Black Cobra and High on Fire represent the Bay Area.

Yet this sort of convenient compartmentalization is redolent of a scene-based musical analysis that is rapidly becoming obsolete. A generation that came of age during the sodden triumph of the “Seattle sound” has matured into an army of bands that defy physical space. The insidious tentacles of social networking and the exponentially expanding capacity of cheap bandwidth have enabled independent musicians to bridge vast distances, to identify kindred spirits and isolated fans. Early Black Cobra material was written while the band’s two members resided on different coasts, swapped back and forth methodically with the click of a mouse. The Internet has been a boon to concert bookers and promoters as well, allowing them to ferret out undeserved markets and spread the digitized word.

Looking back through lists of past tour dates, the connections and inter-pollinations among this underground army of heavily distorted road warriors are practically infinite. It seems as if every band has toured with every other band on the Missing Link roster at least once. “We’ve known those guys forever,” Pike says when asked about Mastodon, and it’s only partly hyperbole — the members of Mastodon met at an Atlanta High on Fire show in 1999.

Though today’s metal vanguard takes advantage of technological innovations, it’s the relentless touring that reaps rewards. And while life on the road has its costs, the new century’s burgeoning crop of itinerant headbangers can depend on a tight-knit nomadic community — bearded and unwashed — that grows stronger by the day. “It’ll be a reunion with friends, which is a cool thing,” says Landrian. “You end up meeting all these people, touring around, and when you get a show like Missing Link happening, everybody knows each other.”

Armed with vans, smart phones, and arsenals of crushing riffs, the bands of Missing Link have the entire continent at their disposal. It’s a far cry from the specter of the 1980s, poisoned by feuding thrash titans and the internecine, hair-sprayed fist-fight for scraps from the Sunset Strip table. “That’s the thing about this underground metal scene,” Landrian says beatifically. “Everyone’s working together. There’s not a lot of ‘Oh, we’re competing with these bands to be in a position of honor.’ There’s a lot of camaraderie. Everybody sees each other in the same light.”

THE MISSING LINK

Mastodon, Between the Buried and Me, High on Fire

with Baroness, Priestess, Valient Thorr, Black Cobra, Bison BC

Sat/8, 4 p.m., $35

The Fox Theater

1807 Telegraph, Oakl.

(510) 302-2277

www.thefoxoakland.com

 

Stage listings

David Talbot
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0

Stage listings are compiled by Guardian staff. Performance times may change; call venues to confirm. Reviewers are Robert Avila, Rita Felciano, and Nicole Gluckstern. Submit items for the listings at listings@sfbg.com.

THEATER

OPENING

Abigail: The Salem Witch Trials, A Rock Opera Temple SF, 540 Howard; www.templesf.com. $10. Opens Thurs/6, 9pm. Starting June 3, runs Thurs, 9pm. Through Sept 23. Buzz, Skycastle, and Lunar Eclipse present this original rock opera.

Fishing Shotwell Studios, 3252 19th St; www.fishingtheplay.com. $25. Opens Fri/7, 8pm. Runs Fri-Sat, 8pm. Through May 29. David Duman’s new play satirizes foodie culture.

Speed the Plow Royce Gallery, 2910 Mariposa; 1-866-811-4111, www.speedtheplowsf.com. $28. Opens Thurs/8, 8pm. Runs Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through June 19. Expression Productions performs David Mamet’s black comedy.

Very Warm for May Eureka Theatre, 215 Jackson; 255-8207. $38-44. Previews Wed/5, 7pm; Thurs/6-Fri/7, 8pm. Opens Sat/8, 6pm. Runs Wed, 7pm; Thurs-Fri, 8pm; Sat, 6pm; Sun, 3pm. Through May 24. 42nd Street Moon kicks off their Jerome Kern Celebration with this Oscar Hammerstein II script that features Kern’s final Broadway score.

BAY AREA

Twelfth Night La Val’s Subterranean, 1834 Euclid, Berk; www.impacttheatre.com. $10-20. Previews Thurs/6-Fri/7, 8pm. Opens Sat/8, 8pm. Runs Thurs-Sat, 8pm. Through June 12. Impact Theatre sets Shakespeare’s romance in Hollywood.

What Just Happened? Cabaret at the Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston Wy, Berk; 1-800-838-3006, www.themarsh.org. $20-50. Opens Fri/7, 9pm. Runs Fri, 9pm; Sat, 8pm (Sat/8 show at 9pm). Through May 27. Nina Wise’s show, an improvised work based on personal and political recent events, extends and re-opens at a new venue.

ONGOING

An Accident Magic Theatre, Bldg D, Fort Mason Center, Marina at Laguna; 441-8822, www.magictheatre.org. $25-55. Wed/5-Sat/8, 8pm (also Sat/8, 2:30pm); Sun/9, 2:30pm. Magic Theatre closes their season with Lydia Stryk’s world premiere drama.

Andy Warhol: Good For the Jews? Jewish Theatre, 470 Florida; 292-1233, www.tjt-sf.org. $15-45. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2 and 7pm. Through June 20. Renowned monologist Josh Kornbluth is ready to admit his niche is a narrow one: he talks about himself, and more than that, he talks about his relationship to his beloved late father, the larger-than-life old-guard communist of Kornbluth’s breakthrough Red Diaper Baby. So it will not be surprising that in his current (and still evolving) work, created with director David Dower, the performer-playwright’s attempt to "enter" Warhol’s controversial ten portraits of famous 20th-century Jews (neatly illuminated at the back of the stage) stirs up memories of his father, along with a close family friend — an erudite bachelor and closeted homosexual who impressed the boyhood Josh with bedtime stories culled from his dissertation. The scenes in which Kornbluth recreates these childhood memories are among the show’s most effective, although throughout the narrative Kornbluth, never more confident in his capacities, remains a knowing charmer. But the story’s central conceit, concerning his ambivalence over presenting a showing of "Warhol’s Jews" at San Francisco’s Contemporary Jewish Museum, feels somehow artificial. It’s almost a stylized rendition of the secular-Jewish moral quandary and neurotic obsession driving Kornbluth works of the past — or in other words, all surface, not unlike the work of another shock-haired artist, but less meaningfully so. (Avila)

The Diary of Anne Frank Next Stage, 1620 Gough; 1-800-838-3006, www.custommade.org. $10-28. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 7pm. Through May 15. Custom Made performs Wendy Kesselman’s modern take on the classic.
Eat, Pray, Laugh! Off-Market Theaters, 965 Mission; www.brownpapertickets.com. $20. Wed, 8pm. Through May 26. Off-Market Theaters presents stand up comic and solo artist Alicia Dattner in her award-winning solo show.

Echo’s Reach Brava Theater Center, 2781 24th St; 665-2275, www.citycircus.org. $14-35. Fri-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 4pm); Sun, 4pm. Through May 30. City Circus premieres an urban fairytale by Tim Barsky.

Geezer Marsh MainStage, 1062 Valencia; 1-800-838-3006, www.themarsh.org. $20-50. Fri, 8pm; Sat, 8:30pm; Sun, 7pm (Sun/9 show at 8pm). Through May 23. Geoff Hoyle presents a workshop performance of his new solo show about aging.

Hot Greeks Hypnodrome Theatre, 575 Tenth St; 1-800-838-3006, www.thrillpeddlers.com. $30-69. Thurs, 8pm; Sun, 7pm. Through June 27. Thrillpeddlers work their revival magic on the Cockettes’ 1972 musical extravaganza.

*Pearls Over Shanghai Hypnodrome, 575 Tenth St.; 1-800-838-3006, www.thrillpeddlers.com. $30-69. Fri-Sat, 8pm, through June 26; starting July 10, runs Sat, 8pm and Sun, 7pm. Extended through August 1. Thrillpeddlers presents this revival of the legendary Cockettes’ 1970 musical extravaganza.

Peter Pan Threesixty Theater, Ferry Park (on Embarcadero across from the Ferry Bldg); www.peterpantheshow.com. $30-125. Previews Wed/5, 2pm. Opens Sat/8, 7:30pm. Runs Tues and Thurs, 7pm; Fri-Sat, 7:30pm (also Sat, 2pm); Wed, 2pm; Sun, 1 and 5pm. Through August 29. JM Barrie’s tale is performed in a specially-built 360-degree CGI theater.

The Real Americans The Marsh, 1062 Valencia; 826-5750, www.themarsh.org. $18-50. Wed-Thurs and May 28, 8pm; Sat, 5pm; Sun, 3pm. Through May 30. Starting July 8, runs Thurs-Fri, 8pm; Sat, 5pm; Sun, 3pm, through Aug 8. The Marsh presents the world premiere of Dan Hoyle’s new solo show.

Sandy Hackett’s Rat Pack Show Marines’ Memorial Theater, 609 Sutter; 771-6900. $30-89. Thurs-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 2pm); Sun, 2pm. Through May 23. From somewhere before the Beatles and after Broadway "Beatlemania" comes this big band cigarettes-and-high-ball nightclub act, recreating the storied Vegas stage shenanigans of iconic actor-crooners Frank Sinatra (David DeCosta), Dean Martin (Tony Basile), and Sammy Davis Jr. (Doug Starks), and sidekick comedian Joey Bishop (Sandy Hackett). The excuse, if one were needed, is that god (voiced in mealy nasal slang by Buddy Hackett, appropriately enough) has deemed a Rat Pack encore of supreme importance to the continued unfurling of his inscrutable plan, and thus unto us a floorshow is given. The band is all-pro and the songs sound great — DeCosta’s singing as Sinatra is uncanny, but all do very presentable renditions of signature songs and standards. Meanwhile, a lot of mincing about the stage and the drink cart meets with more mixed success, and I don’t just mean scotch and soda. The Rat Pack is pre-PC, of course, but the off-color humor, while no doubt historically sound, can be dully moronic — and the time-warp didn’t prevent someone in opening night’s audience from laying into Hackett’s opening monologue for a glib reference to suicide. Though talk about killing: thanks to the heckler, the actor — son to Buddy and the show’s co-producer (alongside chanteuse Lisa Dawn Miller, who sings a cameo as Frank’s "One Love") — got more life out of that joke over the rest of the evening than any other bit. (Avila)

Shopping! The Musical Shelton Theater, 533 Sutter; 1-800-838-3006, www.brownpapertickets.com. $27-29. Fri-Sat, 8pm. Ongoing. The musical is now in its fifth year at Shelton Theater.

Tartuffe Studio 205 at Off-Market Theater, 965 Mission; 377-5882, http://generationtheatre.com. $20-25. Fri-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 3pm. Through May 16. Generation Theatre performs a new English translation of Molière’s classic, in Alexandrine verse.

Tell It Slant Southside Theater, Fort Mason Center, Bldg D, Marina at Laguna; www.tixbayarea.com. $20-40. Fri-Sun, 8pm (also Sun, 2pm; no 8pm show May 16). Through May 16. BootStrap Foundation presents Sharmon J. Hilfinger and Joan McMillen’s musical about Emily Dickinson.

"Wanton Darkness: Two Plays By Harold Pinter and Conor McPherson" Phoenix Theatre, 414 Mason; 335-6087. $24-28. Thurs/6-Sat/8, 8pm. Second Wind and Project 9 Productions co-present a double-bill of twisted and mysterious little-big plays under the umbrella title, "Wanton Darkness." The evening begins with Harold Pinter’s Ashes to Ashes, a pas de deux between a fortysomething couple, Rebecca (Lisa-Marie Newton) and Devlin (Lol Levy), wherein Devlin closely questions Rebecca about a certain sadomasochistic relationship and accompanying dreams, in vaguely menacing tones. The scenic design (by Fred Sharkey) suggests a psychiatrist’s office as much as "a New York penthouse apartment," which speaks to the ambiguity in the dialogue but also to the slightly heavy-handed approach taken here by the actors under Ian Walker’s direction. The touch is far more apt overall in the second play, St. Nicholas, also directed by Walker. An early effort by Irish playwright Conor McPherson (Shining City; The Seafarer), the play unfolds as a two-part monologue by a cynical drink-sodden theater critic (tell it, brother) who follows a spiral of self-loathing right down into the company of a set of fetching young vampires. With something like the quality of a gothic-styled AA testimonial, it proves a somewhat roving but intriguing yarn, nicely delivered by the capable Fred Sharkey. (Avila)

What Mama Said About Down There Our Little Theater, 287 Ellis; 820-3250, www.theatrebayarea.org. $15-25. Thurs-Sun, 8pm. Through July 30. Writer-performer-activist Sia Amma presents this largely political, a bit clinical, inherently sexual, and utterly unforgettable performance piece.

BAY AREA

*East 14th: True Tales of a Reluctant Player Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston, Berk; www.themarsh.org. $20-35. Fri/7, 9pm; Sat/8, 8pm. Don Reed’s solo play, making its Oakland debut after an acclaimed New York run, is truly a welcome homecoming twice over. (Avila)

Girlfriend Berkeley Repertory Theatre, Thrust Stage, 2025 Addison, Berk; (510) 647-2949, www.berkeleyrep.org. $27-71. Wed, 7pm; Thurs-Sat and Tues, 2pm (also Sat, 2pm); Sun, 2 and 7pm. Through May 16. If you like Matthew Sweet’s songs you’ll probably like the spirited renditions in this new boy-meets-boy musical, which borrows its title from Sweet’s famous 1991 album. The songs, backed by a solid band in a recessed fake-wood-paneled den at the back of the stage, underscore the fraught but exhilarating emotional bond between two Nebraska teens at the end of their high school careers and the cusp of an anxious, ambiguous independence. The performances and chemistry generated by actors Ryder Bach and Jason Hite under Les Waters’ sharp direction are marvelous, delivering perfectly the inherent honesty and feeling in Todd Almond’s book, while Joe Goode’s beautifully understated choreography adds a fresh, youthful insouciance to the staging. But the story is a small one, not just a small town story, and its short, predictable arc makes for a slackness not altogether compensated for by the evocative tension between the lovers. (Avila)

John Gabriel Borkman Aurora Theatre, 2081 Addison, Berk; (510) 843-4822, www.auroratheatre.org. $34-55. Wed/5-Sat/8, 8pm; Sun/9, 2 and 7pm. A former bank manager (James Carpenter) who did time for illegally speculating with customer accounts to the ruin of all now paces like a lone wolf (in the operative metaphor) in his upstairs study, planning a return to respectability, as his estranged wife (Karen Grassle) occupies the rooms below along with a testy housekeeper (Lizzie Calogero), where her sister (Karen Lewis) competes for the love and loyalty of the patriarch’s grown son (Aaron Wilton), who contrary to the designs of all his elders is determined to marry a charming widow (Pamela Gaye Walker) and "live," as he is compelled to reiterate. Ibsen’s play has an enduring topicality that is hard to miss of course, but Aurora’s production, directed by veteran hand Barbara Oliver, also inadvertently suggests why this leaden, slightly ridiculous work is so rarely produced, despite some solid acting, especially from an imposing yet slyly comical Carpenter in the title role. (Avila)

Oliver! Julia Morgan Center for the Arts, 2640 College, Berk; www.berkeleyplayhouse.org. $24-33. Fri, 7:30pm; Sat, 2 and 7pm; Sun, 1 and 6pm. Through May 16. Berkeley Playhouse performs the Dickens-based musical.

Terroristka Berkeley City Club, 2315 Durant, Berk; (415) 891-7235, www.brownpapertickets.com. $12-20. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 5pm. Through May 16. Threshold: Theatre on the Verge performs Rebecca Bella’s drama, based on the true story of a Chechen woman trained as a suicide bomber.

To Kill a Mockingbird Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts, 500 Castro, Mtn View; (650) 463-1960, www.theatreworks.org. $27-62. Wed/5, 7:30pm; Thurs/6-Sat/8, 8pm (also Sat/8, 2pm); Sun/9, 2 and 7pm. TheatreWorks performs Christopher Sergel’s adaptation of Harper Lee’s literary masterpiece.

The World’s Funniest Bubble Show Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston Wy, Berk; (415) 826-5750, www.themarsh.org. $10-50. Sun, 11am. Through June 27. The Amazing Bubble Man, a.k.a. Louis Pearl, performs his family-friendly show.

PERFORMANCE/DANCE

"Bare Bones Butoh Presents: Showcase 17" Studio 210, 3435 Cesar Chavez; bobwebb20@hotmail.com. $5-20. Fri-Sat, 8pm. Butoh by Bad Unkl Sister, Ronnie Baker, Liz Saari-Filippone, Vangeline, Bob Webb, and more. Workshops (same location, Sat-Sun, noon-4pm, $50-90) will also be held.

"Bijou" Martuni’s, Four Valencia; www.dragatmartunis.com. Sun, 7pm. $5. Trauma Flintstone hosts the fifth anniversary of this eclectic cabaret.

Rozelle Polido Garage, 975 Howard; www.brownpapertickets.com. Sun-Mon, 8pm, $10-20. The choregrapher presents breathe;ing blue in shades of three, two, and one: tomorrow with guest choregrapher Kelly Bowker.

"See Mon, I Didn’t Forget!" Shelton Theater, 533 Sutter; www.brownpapertickets.com. Sun, 2 and 7pm. $20-30. Celebrate Mother’s Day with solo performers Julia Jackson, Thao P. Nguyen, Zahra Noorbakhsh, Martha Rynberg, and Paolo Sambrano.

Smuin Ballet Yerba Buena Center for the Arts, 700 Howard; 978-ARTS, www.smuinballet.org. Fri-Sat, and May 11-14, 8pm (also Sat, 2pm); Sun, 2pm (also Sun/9, 7pm). Through May 16. $18-56. The company performs Petite Mort, the world premiere French Twist, and Songs of Mahler.

"13th Annual United States of Asian America Festival" Various venues; www.apiculturalcenter.org. May 1-June 14. Festival events include art shows, book and poetry readings, dance performances, comedy, music, and more.

"Tender Stone" CounterPULSE, 1310 Mission; 1-800-838-3006, www.counterpulse.org. Thurs-Sun, 8pm. Through May 16. $20. Artship Ensemble performs a new work about women in ancient Persia.

Opinion: Immigration policy, in Arizona and at home

Zelda Bronstein
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Opinion: Immigration policy, in Arizona and at home

Editors note: This is an opinion piece the horrible immigration bill in Arizona — and its connections here in SF.


By Angela Chan


Mayor Gavin Newsom and City Attorney Dennis Herrera have publicly opposed the anti-immigrant bill, SB 1070 in Arizona.  A diverse coalition of civil rights organizations – including the Arab Resource & Organizing Center, Asian Law Caucus, Bernal Heights Neighborhood Center, Central American Resource Center, Community United Against Violence, Equal Justice Society, La Raza Centro Legal, National Lawyers Guild San Francisco Bay Area Chapter, POWER, and Pride at Work SF — applauds both city officials for taking a strong stand against the Arizona bill.  At the same time, we urge Newsom and Herrera to firmly and unequivocally support the implementation of a local policy that protects the due process rights of immigrant youth in San Francisco.


As with SB 1070 in Arizona, the mayor’s policy of requiring juvenile probation officers to report young people to federal Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) before they receive due process has opened the door to racial profiling and torn many innocent youth from their families.


Since July 2008, pursuant to Newsom’s draconian reporting policy, more than 160 youth have been reported to ICE right after arrest, before they even have had a chance to be heard in juvenile court. That means that youth who are completely innocent of any crimes and youth who are overcharged have been reported to ICE.


Despite the veto-proof passage of a policy by the Board of Supervisors last fall that moves the point of reporting from the arrest stage to after a youth is found to have committed a felony, Newsom has insisted on ignoring the new city law.  Herrera, in turn, has yet to advise implementation of the new law.


Like the Arizona bill, Newsom’s policy requires reporting to ICE when local officials – in this case juvenile probation officers – merely have “reasonable suspicion” that an individual is undocumented. The factors that probation officers are required to use to determine reasonable suspicion have come under fire for codifying racial profiling into law.  Such factors as “length of time in the country” and “presence of undocumented persons in the same area where arrested or involved in the same illegal activity” have little to do with accurately determining an individual’s status, and much more to do with targeting the entire immigrant community and those who live in heavily immigrant communities.


In March, a year and a half after the mayor’s policy went into effect, Chief Probation Officer William Siffermann admitted before the Rules Committee of the Board of Supervisors that the latter factor could lead to racial profiling.  A few days later, Herrera stated that this factor had been removed from the policy.  However, if any changes have been made to the written policy, they have not been made available to the public.


Another similarity with the Arizona bill:  probation officers in San Francisco have not been properly trained and do not have the expertise in immigration law to accurately determine which youth are actually undocumented.  Rather, these officers rely on race, ethnicity, language ability, surnames, and accent as a basis for assuming immigration status.
Much like the Arizona bill, Mayor Newsom’s policy goes well beyond any obligations under federal law by requiring that probation officers report suspected undocumented youth to ICE.  As a cadre of legal scholars, including University of San Francisco Law Professor Bill Ong Hing, have repeatedly made clear, federal law does not require that city officials ask about immigration status or report individuals suspected of being undocumented to ICE.


Finally, as with the Arizona bill, the mayor’s draconian policy only compounds the harm to immigrant families caused by an already flawed federal immigration system, which is in drastic need of comprehensive reform. We need humane reform at the federal level, but in the meantime, Mayor Newsom and City Attorney Herrera need to take swift action to restore due process and protect family unity by ending San Francisco’s draconian policy. 


In standing up against racial profiling in Arizona, Mayor Newsom is back on the right track of defending immigrant rights — now is the time to give immigrant youth and families fairness and due process in San Francisco.


Angela Chan is staff attorney with the Juvenile Justice and Education Project at the Asian Law Caucus

Welcome to Elm Street (and Crystal Lake): Part Eight

Sue Vaughan
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Welcome to Elm Street (and Crystal Lake): Part Eight

In honor(?) of the new A Nightmare on Elm Street, we’re recapping all of the Elms so far. Find more on the Pixel Vision blog.

The stage was set for Freddy vs. Jason (2003) long before Freddy’s glove made a cameo at the end of Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday (1993) — yet another in a long line of misleadingly-titled films promising the last stand of the boogeyman in question (lest ye forget, Jason X came out in 2001). Who didn’t want to see the wisecracking scourge of Springwood go glove-to-machete with Camp Crystal Lake’s burly maniac? Truly, it would be a grudge match for the ages, with two of the most franchise-able movie monsters (combined total in 2003: 17 films) poised to lure both long-standing loyalists and new blood into the theaters. (And even if the entire film was simply a canny marketing tactic, it worked — Freddy vs. Jason was a huge hit, earning $82 million in the United States alone.)

It goes without saying that all viewers must choose a side. And I don’t mean choosing the side of the generic teen actors (Monica Keena, Jason Ritter, Destiny’s Child-er Kelly Rowland)  — after all, it’s only fun when the bodies start dropping, so that ain’t even an option. I remember attending the Freddy vs. Jason press screening and being outraged that the promotional giveaway item was a paper Jason mask. Hold the (tongue-twisting) phone! No glove bedecked with cardboard razors? No disposable fedora? Clearly, favoritism was being displayed! UNFAIR TO FREDDY!

Um, anyway. Nearly 10 years later, I still have that paper hockey mask, but I hadn’t re-watched the movie since its release. Looking at it again last night, I remembered why: it’s just sort of blah. A huge amount of exposition — wherein we learn that the powers of Freddy (Robert Englund) have been nullified because Springwood grown-ups have taken drastic steps to make all the wee ones forget about him, and if nobody remembers him, they can’t fear him, and if they don’t fear him, he has no strength to sweeten anyone’s sleepytime, etc. etc. — leads to Freddy rousing his fellow hell-dweller, Jason (Ken Kirzinger), from whatever stasis the superhuman killing machine happens to be in this year. (For the record, I kinda liked Jason X. Jason in outer space was such an awesome idea, I didn’t really mind that the movie was so insanely formulaic otherwise.)

Anyway, Jason rises, again, lumbers over to Elm Street, and starts taking out the local under-18 population. Word gets out, thanks to some indiscreet cops and a couple of kids who’ve been institutionalized and medicated for the sole purpose of silencing the Ballad of Freddy Krueger. Oops. There are slicings, dicings, a rave in a corn field (wait — a rave? With glow sticks? In 2003? I hope this is a sign of the sense of humor that enabled director Ronny Yu to helm 1998’s Bride of Chucky), and all manner of bloodshed; at a certain point, Freddy gets pissed at Jason (“That hockey puck!”) for killing wide-awake kids he was hoping to slaughter in their dreams. Important lesson, everyone: it’s hard to reason with a voiceless, soulless, heavily armed killing machine.

SO. One thing leads to another, and Jason gets tranquilized. Freddy goes into his dream, and pretends to be Jason’s nagging-from-the-grave mother, kind of a Mrs. Bates in a turtleneck. Despite all efforts, Jason won’t die, of course. (Is it possible Freddy never saw a Friday movie? That’s Jason’s magic power! He is evil immortal! Like, duh!) The kids intervene by driving Jason’s snoozing body to Camp Crystal Lake. (All this time it was terrifyingly close to Springwood — who knew?)

Elm Street dweller Lori (Keena, whose character’s name may or may not be a reference to Laurie Strode from the Halloween movies) has the bright idea of bringing Freddy into the real world, which is exactly what happened in Freddy’s Dead (1991) and probably a few other Nightmares as well, but at this point, I’m having trouble keeping track. Pretty much, it’s breasty Lori’s only contribution to the film, even though she’s positioned as a Nancy Thompson-style last girl standing. Oh, how times have changed … and gotten worse.

Anyway, at last, Freddy and Jason have it out on the shores of Crystal Lake. There is fire, there are explosions, there’s a beheading, and if you really want to know, neither guy wins. There’s no winner! Haha, sucker! Argh. But, I suppose, the end result was convincing enough to pave the way for another clash of horror titans, Alien vs. Predator (2004), which in turn brought us Aliens vs. Predator: Requiem (2007), which in turn probably helped this summer’s Predators get made, and Predators looks awesome, so I’m not complaining. However, the success of Freddy vs. Jason also no doubt inspired last year’s Friday the 13th remake, which was utter shit (in 3-D), and the brand-new A Nightmare on Elm Street, which opens tomorrow, featuring Jackie Earle Haley instead of Robert Englund in the striped-sweater hot seat. How will Freddy fare? Stay tuned for Louis Peitzman’s review!

Hot sexy events: April 28 – May 4

Andrew Lam
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It’s time to take control, cats and kittens. And no, I don’t mean you’ve gotta throw away all those naughty thoughts of ropes and handcuffs — rather, it’s time to lay claim to your own sex life. This week’s sexy events give you ample room to play with this concept, be it Cleo Dubois (2008 leather Marshall of the Pride parade)’s weekend long intensive on mastering the whip for female dominants, or Julian Wolf’s class at Good Vibes on reaffirming the divine in your S&M. For a different take, head to Wicked Grounds’ Festish Munch, where you can calmly meet and greet potential playmates with as much discretion as you have over your extra foamy latte… or was that a mocha with whip? Regardless, get out there and make it how you want to.

S&M: Spirit & Meaning
Julian Wolf shows the way to BDSM scenes that inspire spiritual awakening, making it possible to be a sexy person, and a spiritual person, all in the same moment.
Wed/28 8-10 p.m., $25-30
Good Vibrations
603 Valencia, SF
(415) 552-5460
www.goodvibes.com

Fetish Munch
Do you like fetish play, dress up, BDSM fun, and “dark and sexy” music — but find it hard to really get to know your partners in the thick of the party? Take time to come discuss your passions over a cup of coffee at SF’s sexiest cafe, Wicked Grounds.
Wed/28 8-9:30 p.m., free
Wicked Grounds
289 8th St., SF
(415) 503-0405
www.wickedgrounds.org

Amazing Grace
The first movie to touch on AIDS issues in Israel, Amazing Grace witnesses the relationship between upstairs and downstairs neighbors. The film screens as part of the SF Jewish Film Festival and the “Out in Israel” LBGT Culture Festival.
Thur/29 9 p.m., free
Roxie Cinema
3125 16th St., SF
(415) 863-1087
www.sfjff.org

Cleo Dubois’ Women’s Erotic Dominance Weekend
A full weekend of women learning how to maximize their power in the dungeon. Feedback from previous attendees: “the course gave me more than I had anticipated or hoped for and I had hoped for quite a lot.” Time to get some more confidence in your life, starting with your sexual dynamics.
Starts Fri/30 7 p.m. @ private SOMA residence
Day long courses Sat/1 & Sun/2 @ SF Citadel
1277 Mission, SF
(650) 326-3269
cleodubois@sm-arts.com

Burlesque ‘N Brass
Blue Bone Express provides the jazz melodies to which lovely ladies will shake their spangles. Raise a glass (I hear they have good grapefruit juice cocktails, just a thought), and watch out for dangerous curves.
Sat/1 8:30 p.m.-12:30 a.m., $10
Café Van Kleef
1621 Telegraph, Oakland
(510) 763-7711
www.cafevankleef.com

SF Citadel Play Party
Romp amongst the slings and arrows, outrageous fortune pretty much guaranteed at this frisky get together for the leather community! The event is only open to members, but unaffiliated pervs, you’re in luck — you can buy in for a full year at the Citadel for just $10. They’re also open to work/play exchanges, if you’d like to volunteer for a shift.
Sat/1 8 p.m.-1 a.m., $25 for members
SF Citadel
1277 Mission, SF
(415) 626-1746
www.sfcitadel.org

Thrillpeddlers Present: “Hot Greeks”
The Thrillpeddlars follow up the wild success of “Pearls Over Shanghai” with this sassy little stage number, which tells the story of the Tri Thigh sorority girls’ quest to find the Oracle of Delphi (otherwise known as the Hot Twat of Tangier). The pricey tickets are a partner price for the special “shock box” seating. Oooo…
Sun/2 7 p.m., $30-69
Hypnodrome Theater
575 10th St., SF
(415) 377-4402
www.thrillpeddlers.com

Mommy’s Playdate
Madres only at this mingle fest for those with little ones. Leave the kiddies at home, and instead pick up “mommy-tini,” and get a one on one consultation from the Good Vibes staff sexologist. And a makeover… of what you’ll have to attend to find out.
Tues/4 7-9 p.m., free
Good Vibrations
1620 Polk, SF
(415) 345-0400
www.goodvibes.com

The odd couple

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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The odd couple

arts@sfbg.com

STAGE A man gets off work one hot summer day and stops at the supermarket for an air-conditioned diversion, buys a bag of cherries, and on the way out of the parking lot rolls over a woman with his Toyota Corolla. This is not a good way to meet people. But wham, crash, a relationship is born nevertheless. Not necessarily a romantic one, but then not so far away either. In Lydia Stryk’s An Accident, which closes the current season at the Magic Theater, guilt-ridden driver Anton (Tim Kniffin) and paralyzed patient Libby (Arwen Anderson) dance metaphorically and literally around one another like two lovers in a bad breakup. If only the complex collision between their respective pasts, personalities, and shared trauma angled off in our direction a little more. As drama, An Accident ranks disappointingly as a fender-bender.

This is surprising, not only because Stryk reportedly draws here in part on her own experience as the victim of a similar accident, but given the built-in intensity of the situation, which the playwright aims to heighten by keeping the rest of the world off stage. Her two protagonists have exclusive domain over the hospital room — where Libby remains rooted in bed, unable to move her body, her prognosis uncertain, and Anton slumps in a corner chair or moves frenetically about, trying to please, atone, heal (the both of them). The only other setting, until the very end, is a park bench just outside (set downstage in shadow) where Anton initially sits frozen in contemplation before addressing the audience about the day of the accident.

Moreover, Libby, who also addresses us at the outset, is suffering temporary amnesia, and is thus a "missing person" with no one else in the world as far as she knows. Anton, for his part, is a bit of a loner too, a divorced high school history teacher and Civil War buff, a bookworm and library stalker, with a grown daughter in medical school probably not much younger than Libby. In other words, he’s a guy in his head most of the time, confronted with the broken body of a young woman suddenly trapped in her own thoughts and glaring back angrily at his brazenly healthy physique.

The realism is heavily sculpted by this ideal, almost laboratory-like distillation. Director Rob Melrose and scenic designer Erik Flatmo even forgo the usual hospital equipment, sounds from the corridor, or any view beyond the large wall-size windows, which remain hidden by drawn blinds. Indeed, Flatmo’s set — one of the more impressive transformations of the Magic stage in recent memory — recedes enticingly with sloping ceiling and hard angles into the very idea of institutional isolation, rather than some real-world approximation.

Again, such an intense focus promises us something, namely intensity. But that is decidedly lacking. The actors are very expressive — Anderson’s vigorous, slightly zany performance being all the more impressive given the heavy restrictions on her movement — but the tone is oddly noncommittal, a lightness confounding even the ostensibly heaviest of scenes. The gruesome physicality of their encounter comes across in the dialogue, where the details of Libby’s injuries come to light, but the impact, so to speak, remains marginal. At times it seems as if too much realism were forgone: when Anton, desperately and slightly ridiculously pursuing a healing "life force" energy technique, obeys Libby’s command to remove her hospital gown to maximize his effectiveness, we see her body pristine rather than badly beaten, bruised, and surgically scarred.

One ruefully recalls, in way of contrast, Caryl Churchill’s A Number or David Harrower’s Blackbird. These are similarly distilled two-person dramas where the concentrated isolation of characters locked in deeply traumatic relation to one another comes off to much greater effect, laying both parties bare while digging deeply under our own skin. Unlike the characters in either of those plays, and in an intriguing twist, Libby and Anton have no mutual past predating the collision itself, so their individual pasts come to color and inform this backward relationship that begins in trauma and pain. It’s an opportunity that should have led further, but An Accident plays it all too safe.

AN ACCIDENT

Through May 9

Wed.–Sat., 8pm (also Sat., 2:30 p.m.);

Sun., 2:30 p.m., $25–$55

Magic Theatre, Bldg D,

Fort Mason Center, Marina at Laguna, SF

(415) 441-8822

www.magictheatre.org

Burning the Man

Jesse Hawthorne Ficks
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Burning the Man

steve@sfbg.com

Paul Addis is like the Man he burned: a symbol onto which people project their views of Burning Man, the San Francisco-born event that has become the most enduring countercultural phenomenon of this era. This summer, with the building of Black Rock City in the Nevada desert, marks the 25th annual event.

When Addis illegally torched Burning Man’s eponymous central icon during the Monday night lunar eclipse in 2007, he was either injecting much-needed chaos back into the calcified event; indulging in a dangerous, destructive, and delusional ego trip; or he was simply crazy, depending on the perspective of current and former burners who are still quite animated in their opinions about Addis and his act in online forums.

But Addis is also just a man, one who paid a heavy price to make his statement. After pleading guilty to a destruction of property charge in Nevada court, which became a felony after Burning Man leaders testified to more than $30,000 in damages from having to rebuild the icon, Addis served nearly two years in prison.

Addis was released late last year and recently returned to San Francisco, where this performance artist will debut his new solo show, “Dystopian Veneer,” at The Dark Room on April 30 (a second show is set for May 7). While Addis insists he didn’t seek the notoriety that came from getting caught, it’s clear he relishes this outlaw role, which follows naturally from his last stage incarnation as gun-loving journalist Hunter S. Thompson.

In a nearly three-hour interview with the Guardian, Addis described that fateful night and its implications, as well as why he turned on an event he once loved.

 

BURNING MAN GROWS UP

Addis first attended Burning Man in 1996, the last year in which anarchy and danger truly reigned, when a tragic death and serious injuries caused Burning Man organizers to impose a civic structure and rules, such as bans on firearms and high-speed driving, on future events.

Addis said he immediately became “a true believer,” seeing Burning Man as both a revolutionary experiment in free expression and political empowerment, and as a “wild, risk-taking thing for pure visceral power.” He came from what he called the “San Francisco arts underground” and had a libertarian’s love for guns, drugs, and explosives, but a progressive’s opposition to war and consumer culture.

“When you go to Burning Man, everyone has that feeling at a certain point in time. It is the most incredible thing you’ve been at. You do see the possibilities laid out in front of you,” Addis told me.

Addis poured himself into the event, but became frustrated with the rules and restrictions after three years and stopped going to Burning Man, although he remained in its orbit and closely followed it.

“There are some people who go to Burning Man who have extraordinary ideas and they are extraordinary people. They embody the type of concern and substantial action that I found so wonderfully possible in those early years. And to those people, thank you for what you do. But they are a minority,” Addis said.

Addis shared the anarchist mindset of John Law, who led Burning Man to the Black Rock Desert then left the event in frustration with its growing scale and popularity and never returned after 1996.

“Paul Addis’ early burning of the corporate logo of the Burning Man event last year was the single most pure act of ‘radical self expression’ to occur at this massive hipster tail-gate party in over a decade,” Law wrote on a Laughing Squid blog post after Addis’ sentencing hearing in 2008, one of 185 spirited comments on both sides of the debate.

Among this growing group of Burning Man haters and malcontents, which included self-imposed exiles like Law and provocateur attendees like Chicken John (see “State of the Art,” 12/20/04), there was always talk about burning the Man early as the ultimate strike against how ordered the event had become.

“Everyone knew it needed to be done for lots of reasons,” Addis said of his arson attack. So he returned to Burning Man in 2007 with the sole purpose of torching the Man in order to “bring back that level of unpredictable excitement, that verve, that ‘what’s going to happen next?’ feeling, because it had gotten orchestrated and scripted.”

 

TORCHING THE ICON

Addis can be very grandiose and self-important, prone to presenting himself in heroic terms or as the innocent victim of other people’s conspiracies, such as the police in Seattle and San Francisco who arrested him for possession of weapons and fireworks in separate instances within weeks of his arrest at Burning Man. But when it came to burning the Man, Addis was purposeful.

“Obviously a gesture like burning down Burning Man is very dangerous and very provocative. From my perspective, the No. 1 concern was safety. No one could get hurt unless it was me,” Addis said. Critics of the arson attack often note how dangerous it was, pointing out that there were a dozen or so people under the Man when it caught fire. But Addis said that he was on site for at least 30 minutes beforehand, encouraging people to move back with mixed results, shirtless and wearing the red, black, and white face paint that would later make for such an iconic mug shot.

As a full lunar eclipse overhead darkened the playa and set the stage for his act, Addis waited for his cue: someone, whom Addis won’t identify, was going to cut the lights that illuminated the Burning Man and give him at least 15 minutes to do his deed in darkness.

“I didn’t do this alone,” Addis said. “The lights were cut by someone else… The lights were cut to camouflage my ascent.”

Unfortunately for Addis, the operation didn’t go as smoothly as he hoped. He miscalcuated the tension in a guide-wire he planned to climb and the difficulty in using the zip-ties that attached a tent flap to it as steps, slowly pulling himself up the wire “hand over hand.”

Once he reached the platform at the bottom of one leg, “I reached for this bottle of homemade napalm that I made for an igniter and it’s gone,” dropped during his ascent. And his backup plan of using burlap and lighter fluid took a long time when he couldn’t get his Bic lighter to work under the 15 mph wind.

Then the lights came back on. “And now I know I’m exposed. Because the whole thing was not to get famous for doing this. It was to get away and have it be a mystery. That was the goal,” Addis said.

But then Addis got the fire going and it quickly spread up the Man’s leg, and Addis used nylon safety cables to slide down the guide-wire like a zip-line. “I landed perfectly right in front of two Black Rock Rangers who watched me come down,” Addis said. “And I turned to them and said, ‘Your man is on fire.'<0x2009>”

Addis said he was “furious” to see about nine people still under the burning structure, blaming the rangers and yelling at the people to clear the area before declaring, “This is radical free speech at Burning Man” and taking off running. Addis said he stopped at the Steam Punk Treehouse art exhibit, hoping to get lost in the crowd, but headlights converged on his location. He ran again, with a ranger close behind, and was finally caught, arrested, and taken to Pershing County Jail.

 

AFTERMATH

The arson attack made international news, and there were enough Addis’ supporters out there to convey the message that this was a political statement against the leadership of event founder Larry Harvey and Black Rock City LLC.

But those who run the event didn’t buy into Addis’ narrative. Instead, they ordered new materials to have the Man rebuilt and burned on schedule. And when it came time to testify at his sentencing hearing a year later, they sent LLC board member Will Roger and a tally for replacement costs that greatly exceeded the $5,000 level that bumped the charges up to a felony.

“They didn’t have to do this,” Addis said. “Instead, they decided to deliberately take action they knew would send me to prison.”

Burning Man spokesperson Marian Goodell wouldn’t discuss the charge. “It doesn’t do us or him any good to open that wound again.”

But an internal memo written by Executive Project Manager Ray Allen shortly after the hearing argued that they were required to respond honestly to requests for information from prosecutors and to do otherwise would have required perjury on behalf of an adversary.

“Part of putting on the Burning Man event means maintaining good relations with Pershing County so that we can continue to have the Burning Man event on BLM land within that county. Good relations means cooperating with criminal prosecutions,” Allen wrote to Burning Man employees.

Many of those employees remain profoundly offended by Addis and his act, mostly for the extra work it caused and the principle of such a selfish gesture. “The basic ethos out there is build your own stuff, burn your own stuff,” said Andy Moore, a.k.a. Bruiser, an employee since 2001 who helps build the city. “How would you have felt if he went to your house and burned it down because he didn’t like you?”

Yet as viscerally angry as Moore can still get when speaking of Addis, he also agreed that two years is a long prison term for this. “It seems a bit over the top. After all, it was a structure made of wood that was meant to burn.”

But Addis said that he has let go of the bitterness he felt toward Burning Man and is looking forward to being back on stage, something that he said was his main focus in prison. “It’s a brand new life, and I’ve got all this potential,” Addis said. “And I want to make the most out of it.”

Stage listings

David Talbot
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Stage listings are compiled by Guardian staff. Performance times may change; call venues to confirm. Reviewers are Robert Avila, Rita Felciano, and Nicole Gluckstern. Submit items for the listings at listings@sfbg.com.

THEATER

OPENING

Echo’s Reach Brava Theater Center, 2781 24th St; 665-2275, www.citycircus.org. $14-35. Opens Fri/30, 8pm. Runs Fri-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 4pm); Sun, 4pm. Through May 30. City Circus premieres an urban fairytale by Tim Barsky.

Geezer Marsh MainStage, 1062 Valencia; 1-800-838-3006, www.themarsh.org. $20-50. Opens Sat/1, 8:30pm. Runs Fri, 8pm; Sat, 8:30pm; Sun, 7pm (May 9 show at 8pm). Through May 23. Geoff Hoyle presents a workshop performance of his new solo show about aging.

Hot Greeks Hypnodrome Theatre, 575 Tenth St; 1-800-838-3006, www.thrillpeddlers.com. $30-69. Opens Sun/2, 7pm. Runs Thurs, 8pm; Sun, 7pm. Through June 27. Thrillpeddlers work their revival magic on the Cockettes’ 1972 musical extravaganza.

BAY AREA

Terroristka Berkeley City Club, 2315 Durant, Berk; (415) 891-7235, www.brownpapertickets.com. $12-20. Previews Fri/30-Sat/1, 8pm. Opens Sun/2, 5pm. Runs Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 5pm. Through May 16. Threshold: Theatre on the Verge performs Rebecca Bella’s drama, based on the true story of a Chechen woman trained as a suicide bomber.

The World’s Funniest Bubble Show Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston Wy, Berk; (415) 826-5750, www.themarsh.org. $10-50. Opens Sun/2, 11am. Runs Sun, 11am. Through June 27. The Amazing Bubble Man, a.k.a. Louis Pearl, performs his family-friendly show.

ONGOING

An Accident Magic Theatre, Bldg D, Fort Mason Center, Marina at Laguna; 441-8822, www.magictheatre.org. $25-55. Wed-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 2:30pm); Sun, 2:30pm; Tues, 7pm. Through May 9. Magic Theatre closes their season with Lydia Stryk’s world premiere drama.

Andy Warhol: Good For the Jews? Jewish Theatre, 470 Florida; 292-1233, www.tjt-sf.org. $15-45. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2 and 7pm. Through May 16. Renowned monologist Josh Kornbluth is ready to admit his niche is a narrow one: he talks about himself, and more than that, he talks about his relationship to his beloved late father, the larger-than-life old-guard communist of Kornbluth’s breakthrough Red Diaper Baby. So it will not be surprising that in his current (and still evolving) work, created with director David Dower, the performer-playwright’s attempt to "enter" Warhol’s controversial ten portraits of famous 20th-century Jews (neatly illuminated at the back of the stage) stirs up memories of his father, along with a close family friend — an erudite bachelor and closeted homosexual who impressed the boyhood Josh with bedtime stories culled from his dissertation. The scenes in which Kornbluth recreates these childhood memories are among the show’s most effective, although throughout the narrative Kornbluth, never more confident in his capacities, remains a knowing charmer. But the story’s central conceit, concerning his ambivalence over presenting a showing of "Warhol’s Jews" at San Francisco’s Contemporary Jewish Museum, feels somehow artificial. It’s almost a stylized rendition of the secular-Jewish moral quandary and neurotic obsession driving Kornbluth works of the past — or in other words, all surface, not unlike the work of another shock-haired artist, but less meaningfully so. (Avila)

The Diary of Anne Frank Next Stage, 1620 Gough; 1-800-838-3006, www.custommade.org. $10-28. Thurs/29-Sat/1, 8pm. Custom Made performs Wendy Kesselman’s modern take on the classic.

"DIVAfest" Exit Theatre, 156 Eddy; 673-3847, www.theexit.org. Check website for dates and times. Through Sat/1. Small town girls, they’re all so tragically alike: dreaming eternally of escape, whether by land or luck or love. For stranded sisters Finn and Sarah in The Wind and Rain (part of DIVAfest), the seasons slide slowly past, like the river that powers the dead-end mill-town they bide their time in, waiting for an elusive something to change their lives. Acerbic tomboy Finn (Brynna Jourdan) leads the action and their relationship — pushing her timid sister Sarah (Jeanna Bean Veatch) to swim in the river, all the while admonishing her to remember there "is no such thing as a river." Meanwhile a mysterious fiddler (Rebecca Jackson) moves quietly about her isolated office on the periphery of the stage, occasionally underscoring the unfolding story with a mournful pull of her bow across strings. The plot is thin, and slightly scripted, but the delicately structured buildup to the presumptive murder is gently compelling. As summer fades into fall and winter into spring, so does Sarah’s budding romance with Finn’s ex (the nameless Miller’s son of the ballad on which the play is based) blossom quite literally in an explosion of petals sprinkled across the stage, followed closely by the predetermined dose of sororicidal rage and a stirring musical dénouement. (Gluckstern)
Eat, Pray, Laugh! Off-Market Theaters, 965 Mission; www.brownpapertickets.com. $20. Wed, 8pm. Through May 26. Off-Market Theaters presents stand up comic and solo artist Alicia Dattner in her award-winning solo show.

*Master Class New Conservatory Theatre Center, 25 Van Ness; 861-8972, www.nctcsf.org. $22-40. Wed/28-Sat/1, 8pm; Sun/2, 2pm. Terrence McNally’s lovingly clever and thoroughly engaging portrait-play about opera icon Maria Callas takes the inspired notion of post-career Callas (Michaela Greeley) teaching a Julliard master class of eager young singers, while naturally finding herself unable to resist dominating the stage once more. Through a set of arias performed to piano accompaniment (by Kenneth Helman) by a cast of actor-singers (Alyssa Stone, Holly Nugent, Gustavo Hernández), Callas’s unselfconsciously curt and even brutal interactions with the students finally evoke for this deeply proud yet insecure woman both past theatrical glories and backstage heartaches. The play receives an impressive, all-around satisfying production at New Conservatory Theatre under Arturo Catricala’s astute direction. Of course, even with decent to excellent work on and off stage by the entire production team — including a stately mood-setting scenic design by Kuo-Hao Lo — it would no doubt amount to little without a formidable lead actor to fill Callas’s elegant but slightly over-the-top shoes. Here a marvelously imposing yet charming Greeley delivers the part as if she were born to play it, and all goes swimmingly as a result. (Avila)

"A Night of Funny Firsts" Shotwell Studios, 3252A 19th St; www.brownpapertickets.com. $10-15. Fri/30-Sat/1, 8pm. A sharp and consistently amusing trio of short plays makes up this Footloose-sponsored "night of funny firsts," which actually leads off with a welcome return: the encore run of Cynthia Brinkman’s Evolution of a Kiss, a clever and charming trans-autobiographical solo flight that builds on the writer-performer’s incarnation of three first-kisses across three generations of Latina women, beginning with her Mexican grandmother’s 1934 snog and ending with her own wayward gropings in the late-80s. Brinkman is a competent, confident and charismatic talent who lets nothing, including the fourth wall, stand between her and a good story. She also proves an able director in the second part of the evening, given over to two expert comedic sketches by playwright Wayne Rawley — Controlling Interest and Happiness Is Like a Beautiful, Bright, Shiny Red Apple — both pretty brilliantly manifested by actors Nick Dickson, Matt Gunnison, Maria Leigh, Tavis Kammet, Jason Pienkowski and Holly Silk. (Avila)

Pearls Over Shanghai Hypnodrome, 575 Tenth St.; 1-800-838-3006, www.thrillpeddlers.com. $30-69. Fri-Sat, 8pm, through June 26; starting July 10, runs Sat, 8pm and Sun, 7pm. Extended through August 1. Thrillpeddlers presents this revival of the legendary Cockettes’ 1970 musical extravaganza.

Peter Pan Threesixty Theater, Ferry Park (on Embarcadero across from the Ferry Bldg); www.peterpantheshow.com. $30-125. Previews Wed/28 and May 5, 2pm; Thurs/29, 7pm; Fri/30-Sat/1, 7:30pm (also Sat/1, 2pm); Sun/2, 1 and 5pm. Opens May 8, 7:30pm. Runs Tues and Thurs, 7pm; Fri-Sat, 7:30pm (also Sat, 2pm); Wed, 2pm; Sun, 1 and 5pm. Through August 29. JM Barrie’s tale is performed in a specially-built 360-degree CGI theater.

The Real Americans The Marsh, 1062 Valencia; 826-5750, www.themarsh.org. $18-50. Wed-Thurs and May 28, 8pm; Sat, 5pm; Sun, 3pm. Through May 30. The Marsh presents the world premiere of Dan Hoyle’s new solo show.

Sandy Hackett’s Rat Pack Show Marines’ Memorial Theater, 609 Sutter; 771-6900. $30-89. Thurs-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 2pm); Sun, 2pm. Through May 23. From somewhere before the Beatles and after Broadway "Beatlemania" comes this big band cigarettes-and-high-ball nightclub act, recreating the storied Vegas stage shenanigans of iconic actor-crooners Frank Sinatra (David DeCosta), Dean Martin (Tony Basile), and Sammy Davis Jr. (Doug Starks), and sidekick comedian Joey Bishop (Sandy Hackett). The excuse, if one were needed, is that god (voiced in mealy nasal slang by Buddy Hackett, appropriately enough) has deemed a Rat Pack encore of supreme importance to the continued unfurling of his inscrutable plan, and thus unto us a floorshow is given. The band is all-pro and the songs sound great — DeCosta’s singing as Sinatra is uncanny, but all do very presentable renditions of signature songs and standards. Meanwhile, a lot of mincing about the stage and the drink cart meets with more mixed success, and I don’t just mean scotch and soda. The Rat Pack is pre-PC, of course, but the off-color humor, while no doubt historically sound, can be dully moronic — and the time-warp didn’t prevent someone in opening night’s audience from laying into Hackett’s opening monologue for a glib reference to suicide. Though talk about killing: thanks to the heckler, the actor — son to Buddy and the show’s co-producer (alongside chanteuse Lisa Dawn Miller, who sings a cameo as Frank’s "One Love") — got more life out of that joke over the rest of the evening than any other bit. (Avila)

SexRev: The José Sarria Experience Mama Calizo’s Voice Factory, 1519 Mission; 1-800-838-3006, www.therhino.org. $10-25. Wed/28-Sat/1, 8pm; Sun/2, 2pm. Theatre Rhinoceros presents John Fisher’s musical celebration of America’s first queer activist.

Shopping! The Musical Shelton Theater, 533 Sutter; 1-800-838-3006, www.brownpapertickets.com. $27-29. Fri-Sat, 8pm. Ongoing. The musical is now in its fifth year at Shelton Theater.

Tartuffe Studio 205 at Off-Market Theater, 965 Mission; 377-5882, http://generationtheatre.com. $20-25. Fri-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 3pm. Through May 16. Generation Theatre performs a new English translation of Molière’s classic, in Alexandrine verse.

Tell It Slant Southside Theater, Fort Mason Center, Bldg D, Marina at Laguna; www.tixbayarea.com. $20-40. Fri-Sun, 8pm (also Sun, 2pm; no 8pm show May 16). Through May 16. BootStrap Foundation presents Sharmon J. Hilfinger and Joan McMillen’s musical about Emily Dickinson.

"Wanton Darkness: Two Plays By Harold Pinter and Conor McPherson" Phoenix Theatre, 414 Mason; 335-6087. $24-28. Thurs-Sat, 8pm; Sun, 2pm. Through May 8. Second Wind and Project 9 Productions co-present a double-bill of twisted and mysterious little-big plays under the umbrella title, "Wanton Darkness." The evening begins with Harold Pinter’s Ashes to Ashes, a pas de deux between a fortysomething couple, Rebecca (Lisa-Marie Newton) and Devlin (Lol Levy), wherein Devlin closely questions Rebecca about a certain sadomasochistic relationship and accompanying dreams, in vaguely menacing tones. The scenic design (by Fred Sharkey) suggests a psychiatrist’s office as much as "a New York penthouse apartment," which speaks to the ambiguity in the dialogue but also to the slightly heavy-handed approach taken here by the actors under Ian Walker’s direction. The touch is far more apt overall in the second play, St. Nicholas, also directed by Walker. An early effort by Irish playwright Conor McPherson (Shining City; The Seafarer), the play unfolds as a two-part monologue by a cynical drink-sodden theater critic (tell it, brother) who follows a spiral of self-loathing right down into the company of a set of fetching young vampires. With something like the quality of a gothic-styled AA testimonial, it proves a somewhat roving but intriguing yarn, nicely delivered by the capable Fred Sharkey. (Avila)

What Mama Said About Down There Our Little Theater, 287 Ellis; 820-3250, www.theatrebayarea.org. $15-25. Thurs-Sun, 8pm. Through July 30. Writer-performer-activist Sia Amma presents this largely political, a bit clinical, inherently sexual, and utterly unforgettable performance piece.

BAY AREA

*East 14th: True Tales of a Reluctant Player Marsh Berkeley, 2120 Allston, Berk; www.themarsh.org. $20-35. Fri, 9pm; Sat, 8pm. Through May 8. Don Reed’s solo play, making its Oakland debut after an acclaimed New York run, is truly a welcome homecoming twice over. (Avila)

Equivocation Marin Theatre Company, 397 Miller, Mill Valley; (415) 388-5208, www.marintheatre.org. $34-54. Wed/28, 7:30pm; Thurs/29 and Sat/1, 8pm (also Sat/1, 2pm); Sun/2, 2 and 7pm. Marin Theatre Company presents playwright Bill Cain’s award-winning hit, a sparksy drama that steeps itself in the history of Shakespeare’s life, labors and times to, among other things, draw pointed references to a barbaric period of fear, witch-hunting and state-sponsored torture ("Politics is religion for people who think they’re god," as one character has it). As staged by artistic director Jasson Minadakis, the play is nervously kinetic and pitched rather high by a cast of first-rate actors delivering surprisingly lackluster performances. The fact is Cain also bites off quite a bit in Equivocation, including "Shagspeare"’s (Charles Shaw Robinson) fraught relationship with his morosely clever daughter (Anna Bullard), neglected twin of the beloved son he lost — which is perhaps why some of it seems only half chewed by the end. The play — set in designer J.B. Wilson’s metallic two-tiered semi-circle representing the storied Globe Theatre, where the Bard wrote and occasionally acted alongside his fellow King’s Men as co-proprietor — has also a wearying tendency to spell its morals in block letters. Some genuine insight into the plays and their meaning then and now lifts interest in the fictionalized action, which otherwise skirts by on mild amusement, somewhat strained dialogue and familiar post-9/11 indignation. (Avila)

Girlfriend Berkeley Repertory Theatre, Thrust Stage, 2025 Addison, Berk; (510) 647-2949, www.berkeleyrep.org. $27-71. Wed, 7pm; Thurs-Sat and Tues, 2pm (also Sat, 2pm); Sun, 2 and 7pm. Through May 9. If you like Matthew Sweet’s songs you’ll probably like the spirited renditions in this new boy-meets-boy musical, which borrows its title from Sweet’s famous 1991 album. The songs, backed by a solid band in a recessed fake-wood-paneled den at the back of the stage, underscore the fraught but exhilarating emotional bond between two Nebraska teens at the end of their high school careers and the cusp of an anxious, ambiguous independence. The performances and chemistry generated by actors Ryder Bach and Jason Hite under Les Waters’ sharp direction are marvelous, delivering perfectly the inherent honesty and feeling in Todd Almond’s book, while Joe Goode’s beautifully understated choreography adds a fresh, youthful insouciance to the staging. But the story is a small one, not just a small town story, and its short, predictable arc makes for a slackness not altogether compensated for by the evocative tension between the lovers. (Avila)

John Gabriel Borkman Aurora Theatre, 2081 Addison, Berk; (510) 843-4822, www.auroratheatre.org. $34-55. Tues and Sun, 7pm (also Sun, 2pm); Wed-Sat, 8pm. Through May 9. A former bank manager (James Carpenter) who did time for illegally speculating with customer accounts to the ruin of all now paces like a lone wolf (in the operative metaphor) in his upstairs study, planning a return to respectability, as his estranged wife (Karen Grassle) occupies the rooms below along with a testy housekeeper (Lizzie Calogero), where her sister (Karen Lewis) competes for the love and loyalty of the patriarch’s grown son (Aaron Wilton), who contrary to the designs of all his elders is determined to marry a charming widow (Pamela Gaye Walker) and "live," as he is compelled to reiterate. Ibsen’s play has an enduring topicality that is hard to miss of course, but Aurora’s production, directed by veteran hand Barbara Oliver, also inadvertently suggests why this leaden, slightly ridiculous work is so rarely produced, despite some solid acting, especially from an imposing yet slyly comical Carpenter in the title role. (Avila)

Oliver! Julia Morgan Center for the Arts, 2640 College, Berk; www.berkeleyplayhouse.org. $24-33. Fri, 7:30pm; Sat, 2 and 7pm; Sun, 1 and 6pm. Through May 16. Berkeley Playhouse performs the Dickens-based musical.

To Kill a Mockingbird Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts, 500 Castro, Mtn View; (650) 463-1960, www.theatreworks.org. $27-62. Tues-Wed, 7:30pm; Thurs-Sat, 8pm (also Sat, 2pm); Sun, 2 and 7pm. Through May 9. TheatreWorks performs Christopher Sergel’s adaptation of Harper Lee’s literary masterpiece.

PERFORMANCE/DANCE

"Bombshell Betty’s Burlesque Bailout" Glas Kat, 520 Fourth St; 495-6620. Wed, 8pm, $10. Burlesque, dance, comedy, and more to raise money for Bay Area performers hit hard by the economic crisis.

"City Solo" Off-Market Theaters, 965 Mission; www.brownpapertickets.com. Sun, 7pm. Through May 23. $15. This showcase features works by Monica Bhatnagar, Susan Ito, Kathy Jetnil-Kijiner, Sarah Weidman, and Nicole Maxali.

"Columbia Chasing" Garage, 975 Howard, SF; 518-1517. May 4-5, 8pm, $10-20. Dance Ceres performs a work-in-progress.

"Men Think They Are Smarter Than Grass" Project Artaud Theater, 450 Florida; 267-7687. Fri-Sat and May 6, 8pm; Sun, 5pm. Through May 9. $20-25. Deborah Slater Dance Theaer performs a world premiere.

"Queerification" Mama Calizo’s Voice Factory, 1519 Mission; www.therhino.org. Sun, 3. Donations accepted. Theatre Rhinoceros and Grooviness Productions present this afternoon of "playlets and musings in progress" by Mercilee Jenkins and Jerry Metzker.

"Toe to Toe: The Grand Slam" Herbst Pavilion, Fort Mason Center, Marina at Laguna; www.slimstickets.com. Thurs, 6:30pm. $25-125. Dancers from ODC/Dance and student athletes from UC Berkeley engage in a series of physical challenges to raise money for ODC Dance Commons and Cal Athletics.

Conan O’Brien is employed so the rest of us don’t have to be

Andrew Lam
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6

Yuppies love jokes about homeless people.

Consider that a telling, if ancillary, lesson I learned at last night’s Conan O’Brien “Legally Prohibited From Being Funny on Television” tour, which continues tonight, Fri/23.

In the wake of O’Brien’s sacking from his late night gig at NBC earlier this year, the show marked a return to relevancy for the comedian. His comeback seemed to resonate with the younger, upper middle crowd at the Nob Hill Masonic Center, many of whom are no doubt fighting to maintain their own $79.50 comedy show lifestyle in the face of economic shittiness and uncertain employment.

Before we could see the man himself, we the audience were treated to a video showing an obese, bearded Conan from “a month ago” lolling about in sweatpants and pizza boxes as he waited for the phone to ring that would grant him a chance to spread his snark to the masses once more. No job = letting the dog lick peanut butter off your toes and sweatsuits. I looked around, and the buttoned down, well coiffed crowd around me was chuckling uncomfortably to themselves. Unemployed — and that beard! What a loser Conan was!

But the call comes, and we watch the birth of the 72 city “Legally Prohibited” tour. Barred from TV, radio, and the Internet until the fall (when his new TBS series begins, surely a come down for a man used to the bright lights of network television) by the terms of his contract with NBC, live performances are one of the only options open right now to O’Brien, whose career’s been light on the stand up without the sound stage up to this point.

+ beard + certain degree of world weary grizzle = Conan from last night’s show

His lack of live experience didn’t matter to the folks last night, though. They whooped it up as the man made his entrance onstage, re-energized in a sharp suit, his band behind him once more. The gut was gone, but the beard stayed, a rugged look that seemed to scream ‘this man has been through some shit!’

“We played San Francisco in 2007 in the Tenderloin, at the Orpheum,” O’Brien explains to us. “I had to get to the theater by canoeing through hobo urine!”

Haaaa! “That’s the show it’s going to be,” he tells us, as the crowd cheers his cheekiness. He tells us he can see “some guy in a top hat in the balcony” telling his wife, Mildred “it’s time to go.” Frumpy old people aside “your asses are mine tonight! You can’t change the channel,” he tells us. But no one’s leaving. The bland jokes, humorous musical numbers, and even an appearance from Chris Isaak (omg! He’s like, so cute!) keep the endorphins up and the bright, shiny crowd enthralled.

In crazy times, your late night show will always be there for you. Even if that interview didn’t go so hot, or you’re forced to give up the private parking space, you know your favorite TV host awaits to round out the day with some reassuringly belittling comments on pretty much every single person in popular culture. All the better if he’s cracking wise about the unemployment office and the steps of grieving that happen when you lose your job.

These days, that’s what we call relevant humor. Go get ‘em, Coco.

Conan O’Brien’s “Legally Prohibited From Being Funny on Television” tour

Fri/23  8 p.m., $39.50-79.50

Nob Hill Masonic Center

1111 California, SF

(415) 630-8496

www.teamcoco.com

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