Terminal Commuters on the Sunset Limited

Tonight I caught a preview performance of The SF Playhouse's production of Cormac McCarthy's "The Sunset Limited." One goes into a work by McCarthy expecting eloquent bleakness and this play delivers more than enough of both. If you're in any sort of a grim mood I suggest waiting to see it for another night and certainly don't see this on a first date. Thankfully I went alone and ended up seated in the front row to hear some of the finest nihilistic philosophizing McCarthy's written since The Crossing. It helps that all this despair is delivered in a very nuanced, piercing performance by Charles Dean, who plays a character simply called White.

White's been saved from committing suicide at the last minute by Black, performed by Carl Lumbly in an equally deft performance in what's ultimately the lesser role. However it doesn't start that way for Black, who has taken White back to his crackhead infested apartment in NYC to try to save him in another way.  McCarthy's worldview has always been horrific but he maintains a balance for the first 3/4s of the play as both characters give as good as they get in what boils down to an argument about whether or not life is worth living. White says no, Black says yes. White is an atheist, Black is a believer. Both articulate their views with dialogue that flows with a strong sense of conviction and doesn't hit any false notes.

There is no gray to be found in this play and this works strongly in its favor because if one of the characters would waver in their convictions it would throw the whole thing off the track. There is no middle ground and McCarthy sets the whole play up perfectly- we want to know what White will do in the end and the drama moves in an Aristotelian way to its conclusion- no easy feat with only two actors onstage for one hour and a half long scene.

Lumbly and Dean are marvelous in these roles and the set by Bill English is perfect. English is also the director and does a fine job of keeping everything at a level that feels real. Since it was a preview they may tweak this and that, but regardless, this is an excellent production- the best I've seen this company do since their fantastic Killer Joe a few seasons back. See it- the run ends on 11/06/10 and there are a few liquor stores on Sutter going toward Leavenworth if you need one afterwards. I certainly did.

E-Scapin

Having miraculously recovered from a debauched, three-hour, Manhattan-drenched dinner at our favorite restaurant the night before, The Swede and I met up outside the Geary Theater to get a few laughs from the incredibly well-reviewed Scapin now currently on offer from American Conservatory Theater, which the Chronicle calls "The Funniest Show of the Year." There were indeed many people laughing, but we didn't think it was all that funny. Sure, Bill Irwin is a great physical comedian, but the whole thing felt like an old Abbott and Costello routine and Moliere's play is as silly as a Mozart opera.

Know that we are of the minority opinion on this show because most of the audience  truly seemed to be enjoying it. If the second half was any better I'll never know. We left at intermission, me with a horrible headache- a gift from the woman seated next to me who was drenched in horrible cheap perfume. The Swede actually called it "terrible." I wouldn't go that far, but when he suggested leaving I felt no compulsion to protest and stay for more.

As for the funniest show of the year, hurry up and go see Jerry Springer, the Opera before its run ends. That is the funniest show of the year. Get tickets for it from Goldstar.

The Upcoming link and a disclosure

A year ago, after learning a stalker had moved into my building and being attacked by a couple of drunks whom I had to make a citizen's arrest on, I changed the name and url of this blog and removed all pictures of my friends, of me and any references to my real identity. I also made it a habit of not posting about where I was going to be ahead of time so those people wouldn't be able to find me easily. However, it's been a year, and the violent drunks have probably forgotten about me and been arrested a few times since then (one of them had outstanding warrants in three states for same kind of thing) and I'm not even sure if the stalker still lives here- I never ask about her and a court action made her extremely unlikely to  initiate any contact with me.

While I still keep my identity apart from A Beast to the extent I can and don't post pictures of myself or friends, I felt it was time to loosen up a bit and post a calendar of what I'm going to attend over the next few weeks and it appears under the title picture. Click on it and you'll see where I'm planning to be. Clicking on the links of the individual shows will take you to the most reasonable and informative page about it I could find at the time. I hope it will help promote these performances and at the same time help me to keep the next couple of months straight, since they're going to be busy. Fun, but busy

See you there?

Free For All in Berkeley

Cal Performances held their first Free For All yesterday on the Berkeley campus and for a first time event they did a superb job on the scheduling and programming. It was also a perfect day to spend on the campus and the event drew a large, diverse crowd to hear and see a variety of performers representative of the organization's season programming- dance, chamber music, jazz, dance, world music, theater and more. They should do this every year.

We had grand plans to leave San Francisco early and get there in time to see the Kronos Quartet's opening set at 11:00 AM and that plan promptly fell apart with a 9:15 AM text alerting me that someone had just awoken. We ended up making our first stop breakfast and our second stop was to check out Chad Newsome's marvelous new digs at the Uptown in Oaktown. From there we leisurely walked over to Cafe Van Cleef because I wanted to show it to GG and Penelope but it was closed so finally we made our way to the campus, arriving at a packed Hertz Hall too late to see the Adler Fellows perform. Well, at that point it was decided the best thing to do was to drink beer, so we walked back down to the Bear's Lair and had a couple of rounds. The day was disappearing fast but we were having a grand old time.

Finally, we left the bar and made our way over to Zellerbach to see the Mark Morris Group's performance. If I had been paying more attention, I would have known Morris's dancers were in New York and what we were going to get was something a little bit different that turned out to be truly delightful.

Two members of the troupe, accompanied by kind of a pianist, led four large groups of people from the audience onto the stage and then proceeded to teach them movements from L'Allegro, Il Penseroso ed Il Moderato. The people onstage ranged from two year olds to very senior citizens in every size and color and it was great to watch this humanist exercise in creating an instant community through the art of dance. It was hard not to smile through the entire thing and they even had the entire audience learning the "water moves." We were seated in the very front of the balcony and could watch as the audience below us created ripples with increasingly good effect, while still creating our own. It was truly delightful while doubling as a great outreach and educational experience. How many times does that work? By the way, LA Opera will be staging L'Allegro in May and if you have never seen this fabulous work by all means please do so- it's on my list of "best things I've ever seen."

Next we were going to listen to John Santos, but the tent under which he was leading his band was pretty packed so we opted for Yogurt Garden instead, chiefly because Chad was suffering from Cal-nostalgia. I was too, but mine didn't include the food off of Telegraph Ave. Well, three out of four of us opted for Yogurt Garden and an hour later we were regretful of eating so much of the delicious goop as a sugar-induced wave of something began to take us over in the warm afternoon sun.


So we got in line to see Linda Tillery and the Cultural Heritage Choir. Tillery has been a Bay Area presence for a long time, but before yesterday I had never seen her perform before. What a mistake that was. Tillery and the Cultural Heritage Choir are fantastic musicians, beautiful singers and they have a truly deep knowledge and understanding of American Roots music, and African-American Roots music, though I would say the line between the two is a faint, dotted gray.

Imitating instruments to great effect with their voices, while using only percussion instruments, they consistently created perfect harmonies that were intricate and incredibly rich, Tillery and the choir performed a generous, enlightening, hour-long set incorporating spirituals, reggaeton-style hip hop, reggae, Hank Ballard, Bob Marley and the Mickey Mouse Theme song. They were splendid and the perfect way to close out what had been a great day and a weekend full of music. I look forward to seeing them again soon. They have some shows coming up in Canada this October.Do check them out.

The New Century Chamber Orchestra with Edgar Meyer

This past Saturday night I attended my first concert by the New Century Chamber Orchestra. This ensemble had been on my radar for awhile and when their opening concert with bassist Edgar Mayer showed up on Goldstar I decided to take the plunge and see what they were about. Two days later their publicist sent me an email asking if I would like to attend the show. Such timing! I accepted and asked the Femme Fatale if she would like to join me and there was an extra ticket available if it would help her smooth the path to her attending. She readily accepted and proceeded to work her intricate machinations which in the end failed but didn't prevent her from attending the performance.

The NCCO, led by music director Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg, is a chamber orchestra and performs without the benefit of a conductor. This presents myriad challenges and my first thought after hearing them is that this is a very well-tuned, refined machine- a group of musicians who are able to pull off this challenge with apparent effortlessness. This isn't easy to do, and it's the one reason I never attend the annual Itzhak Perlman concerts at Davies with the SFS because I think he is terrible at trying to pull off this feat.

But I digress.

Saturday's season opener presented a varied program that evolved into a surprisingly coherent concert. The first piece was Rossini's Sonata in G Major, written by the composer at the ripe age of 12. Many of the "cognoscenti" of classical music and opera, both now and in Rossini's time, write Rossini off as a light-weight. Personally I think this is ridiculous. The composer of Turco, Barbiere, Italiana, Stabat Maater, Viaggio, Cenerentola and so many more certainly took the easy route many times, recycling this and that, but always recycling something of his own that was brilliant to start with. Nobody complains when Scorcese, Tarantino, Leonard Cohen or Phillip Glass does this, so why does the stigma attach itself to Rossini so easily?
In the hands of the NCCO, a pretty strong case was made for this work, with its flowing melody. Nothing profound, but a lovely to piece to stretch out for the opener. Nadja Salerno-Sonnenberg then introduced bassist Edgar Meyer with unconcealed delight. Meyer strode onstage looking a bit like a college professor in his baggy slacks, ill-fitting blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a yellow bow tie. He nodded to Anthony Manzo, the NCCO's bass player, and began to play Bach. I don't know enough Bach to know if this suite was written for the bass, but to me it sounded like one of the cello suites and if it wasn't there were certainly many parts of it that overlapped with those familiar works. Meyer leans into his instrument, leaning on it actually, and its interesting to watch how he physically melds his body to the instrument, as if he wants to feel everything its producing under his hands. The Femme Fatale described it as dancing in place with it I believe, and I think it's an apt description.

Meyer and the orchestra then performed Bottesini's Concerto for String Bass No. 2 in B minor. Like Meyer, Bottesini was regarded as one of the most talented bass players of his day. I found Meyer's playing to be completely absorbing and while the orchestra followed him well, but they never felt completely in sync, establishing the interplay which makes the concerto format work. Meyer played, they followed. Part of the problem may be the piece itself, which has plenty of highpoints for the soloist (I believe the cadenzas were Meyer's own) but apart from that, it isn't that memorable.

As an encore, Meyer returned to the stage without his bow and gave a free-form, funk-based jazz improvisation which demonstrated his formidable skills. It was a puzzling choice to me, because while it showed off a different side of his musicianship, considering the three pieces together blurred my vision of  who Meyer is as an artist rather than clarified it.

After the intermission the orchestra performed Shostakovich's Chamber Symphony in C minor (Op. 110a, arranged by Rudolf Barshai). This was thrilling. Based on the Eighth String Quartet, the piece is somber and moody until it bursts into wild, mad frenzy that had Salerno-Sonnenberg coming off of her seat to play fierce punctuations during the churning second movement which has scorching elements from the Eighth Symphony incorporated into it.

The final piece was Mahler's Adagietto from Symphony No. 5. This was beautifully played, with the orchestra completely in sync, and the interplay among them fascinating to watch, but even better to hear. The movement's romantic lyricism had with a great tenderness that actually benefited from being played by a smaller orchestra

The New Century Chamber Orchestra will have three more programs this season. The next one features works by composer Mark O'Connor and Bach:

Open rehearsal: Monday, November 15 at 10am, Herbst Theatre

Thursday, November 18 at 8pm, First Congregational Church
Friday, November 19 at 8pm, First United Methodist Church
Saturday, November 20 at 8pm, Herbst Theatre
Sunday, November 21 at 5pm, Osher Marin Jewish Community Center

Olodum rocks SFJazz's opening night

SFJazz kicked off their 28th season last night with the Afro-Brazilian band Olodum in a what can only be called an ass-shaking barn-burner of a show. Hailing from Bahia, the band has been around for 30 years and drew a sold-out crowd eager and ready to party Carnivale-style that had something like a 3 to 1 ratio of women to men. Brazilian women, gentlemen- you should have been there. The audience sat through the first number and then danced through the entire 2 hour set.

Photo stolen from Carl, who was seated front and center.

Olodum features six percussionists, two vocalists, a keyboard player, guitar and bass. The songs are a propulsive mix of samba and reggae, for the most part sung in Portuguese by Lucas Di Fiori and Nadjane Souza. Fiori has an engaging, eager to please stage persona that is somewhat at odds with the rest of the band (he's the only white member) but somehow he manages to pull it off, though he reminds me of middle-eastern singers more than someone leading a Carnivale party. Souza is a gorgeous woman with a fantastic voice who commanded the stage like Beyonce during her turns on the mike. Both doubled as percussionists when they weren't singing.

With six people playing drums onstage, there must be a groove and indeed there was. This is really the heart of the band and I had to split my attention between what was going on in front of the stage and watching the intricacies of what six drummers were playing. Sometimes doubling one another, but often not, the band created a base that would begin in one solid rhythm and then slowly melt into something entirely different in subtle shifts of tempo and beat. It was fascinating to watch. Honestly though, what was more fascinating to watch was all the women who ended up in dancing in the front row. At one point Di Fiori brought the one in white onstage and good grief, could this woman move. After her, the band just started pulling all of them up until there must have been 50 women onstage with them, dancing with abandon. It was a fantastic thing to behold, while the rest of the audience sang along with band.

Olodum kept going and going and it was only the house rules that shut this party down at 10:00. There must have been an after-party somewhere which was probably insane. It was a helluva a show and a great opener for what promises to be a truly adventurous season for SFJazz.

Encore performances: Best of SF Fringe Oct 1 & 2

Friday, October 1

7:00 p.m. – Zero to 90 in 60 Minutes:

A Smorgasbord of Short Plays and Monologues written by Smart Bay Area Women. Selected plays from the original 2010 Fringe award-winner, Zero to 90 in Ninety Minutes. Written by LindaAyres-Frederick, Joya Cory, Janet Johnston, Ruth Kirschner & Naomi Newman. Starring Juliet Tanner, Heidi Wolfe, Paul Gerrior, Linda Ayres-Frederick, Joya Cory, Bruno Kantor.

Excellent writing, acting and directing…The whole evening is fun, professional and deserves to be seen!... Joya Cory is succeeds at being funny, sad, and universal all in the same moment. And the rest of the players are clearly professionals at the top of their games, engaging with real stories and real content.... It is rare indeed when you get the full impact of the magic which is theater at its best, an experience of art that touches our core and leavens ones understanding of life and human nature. This show has MANY such moments. Its writing is super smart and penetrating and the acting is superb. I give an unqualified A. – Fringe audience reviews

8:30 p.m. – Arousal

A sudden death in the family leaves Clifford, who has Asperger's and has never been with a woman, all alone for the first time in his life. Driven to desperate measures he responds to an ad online for a "special friend". Albena, a immigrant from the Ukraine who runs a one woman prostitution business out of her studio apt. and who is running from her own troubles, is the one who placed the ad. What happens when they meet? Sex? Absurdities? Orgasms? Yes! Yes! Yes! AROUSAL. A comedy about connections, lost and found.
 
A top-notch production: funny and poignant and thought-provoking. Thanks to a terrific, well-crafted script and phenomenal acting, this story of a Ukrainian hooker and her new Aspergers client performs the rare trick of delighting us and moving us at the same time. A 45-minute gem. Don't miss it! – Fringe audience review ... I was amazed that something so short felt so engaging. The characters had a wonderful balance of irony & authenticity…and I laughed and laughed and laughed. At the same time, they were real, authentic, and the play was quite moving. I was in tears at the end & it left me reflecting on the human condition, and wanting to see more. Overall, I thought they did a remarkable job & highly recommend the play to everyone. – Fringe audience review
 
Saturday, October 2

7:00 p.m. – Homeless

What does home look like when you are a black, gay immigrant? And where do you find it? Rotimi Agbabiaka's "Homeless" is a sometimes funny, always poignant trek from Bulgaria to Nigeria to the United States of America. On his journey to find home our protagonist encounters past loves, present obligations and future fantasies. In this piece, Rotimi uses music, dance, storytelling, and shapeshifting to examine the meaning of identity in our global village.

Homeless is an auspicious debut…Agbabiaka is a performer with the muscular fluidity of a trained dancer, the nuance of a veteran actor, and a personality that audiences can’t wait to embrace…his is a major talent that is well worth following. – George Heymont, My Cultural Landscape.

8:30 p.m. – The Burroughs and KookieShow: Late Night at the Interzone

Welcome to INTERZONE'S favorite late night talk show. Hosted by the God-Father of Punk, William S. Burroughs. Join Christopher Kuckenbaker as he assumes the role of William S. Burroughs and takes the audience on a journey through the twisted, irreverent, and darkly comedic world of William S. Burroughs. Ripe Theater and Secret Theater conspire together to bring this Ripe/Secret to the stage. Ripe Theater received "Best of Fringe" in 2002 and "Best Ensemble" in 2006. WARNING: Mugwumps may be milked, cut-ups mended, and a vibrator may get a good talking-to.

Kuckenbaker ably switches between burroughs and the acerbic, paranoid writer’s hapless talk-show guest…smartly directed by Sarah McKereghan, with deadpan musical support by Louis libert, “Burroughs” is a blithely mind-altering visit that soars with wry witon excerptsfrom its namesake’s writings. – Robert Hurwitt, San Francisco Chronicle

For complete descriptions of the four encore shows in the Oct. 1 and 2 “Best of the Fringe,” go to www.sffringe.org. Or call the fringe hotline at (415) 673-3847. All shows are at EXIT Theatre, 156 Eddy Street in downtown San Francisco. Tickets are $20 per show available at www.sffringe.org.

Sort of an LA Opera season preview

Having read Brian's preview of Daniel Catan's Il Postino, I realized I was going to have to make one more trip down to L.A. this year than I expected. In years past L.A. Opera has made it very easy to lure out-of-towners by programming two operas simultaneously that could be seen over a weekend. The pairings always worked pretty well with me, but for some reason this year they don't.

For starters, Il Postino sounded like a terrible idea to me, Domingo or not, and pairing its run with The Marriage of Figaro certainly wasn't going to induce me to go down there. No way. Ah, yes, Marcher eats his words again, though I'll skip the Figaro, thank you very much.

Then there's the new production of Lohengrin, directed by Lydia Steier, which seems destined to maintain LAO's track record of offending certain types of Wagnerites. In other words, this will likely be the highpoint of the entire season for me and with Ben Heppner in the title role leading a fantastic cast I cannot wait to see and hear this. But it's paired with Rigoletto. Now don't get me wrong, I think Rigoletto is one of Verdi's best. But I've seen it a lot in the last ten years and being totally unfamiliar with the cast, it holds no interest for me this time around.

Two potential pairings, two complete misfires and they only got me for Il Postino because Brian and I agree more often than not on what's good and what isn't and he's talking it up. But two out of the four is as far as I'm willing  to go and hopefully there will be something interesting across the street at Disney Hall while I'm there for the second night.

At least the third pairing this spring truly works for me. Normally, Rossini's Il Turco in Italia would be something I would happily see at home but unlikely to travel 400 miles to see. But this is a sensational cast and I have every expectation this will be as good if not better than last year's Elixir. That run overlaps with Britten's The Turn of the Screw. That seals the deal. Two operas I really do want to see. So in a season of six operas they're getting me to want to see four. That's not bad at all, considering that here in San Francisco there's only one production in which I'm truly interested. The rest I'm so indifferent about I've yet to purchase any tickets.

This is the third season in a row I've found LA Opera to be more interesting than San Francisco and I'm glad Domingo will be sticking around as the boss for at least a couple of more years. Now please bring back the Recovered Voices program, which is a gaping hole in LAO's schedule this year. Instead, there's Mark Morris' L'Allegro, il Penseroso ed il Moderato, which is truly a delightful, thoughtful evening of music and dance I strongly recommend you attend. See you at the Dorothy Chandler.

Uranus, Jupiter, its three moons and Euro porn

"Dave" looking at Uranus and Jupiter. Midnight on Van Ness and Eddy.

This was a weird evening. I almost feel compelled to tell its story in reverse, but that's just a little too "Momento"-ish. Almost everyone I know was attending the opening night of SFO's The Marriage of Figaro starring the ridiculously gorgeous Danielle de Niese. This was originally my plan too, via a $10 standing room ticket (for the first act only, of course), because frankly I'm just not that into Mozart's operas and unless it's Cosi or a particularly well-cast Don Giovanni I really don't care. But I'm something of a completist and I'll see it standing room at some point solely so I can throw my opinion online like everyone else. Well that and I do want to hear de Niese.

That was the plan, at least until the Femme Fatale proposed that I join her to see the "Sexy Euro Cinema" program at the Red Vic, which is part of the Good Vibrations Indie Erotic Film Festival. Now that's a dilemma, is it not? I figured I could see Figaro almost anytime so I agreed and we met at the Vidal Sassoon salon where she was getting her hair done. I always wondered who got their hair done here.  From there we boarded Muni and proceeded to wait and wait and wait while someone was expiring at the Church St. station. Oh, not good people, not good.

We get off Muni and make our way to Haight St. to grab a bite beforehand, deciding to go to Zona Rosa, where a bunch of undercover cops are busting a fairly large group of drug dealers. Dealers are so dumb. The Femme ordered a beer with dinner, which was kind of shocking to me because she has the most sophisticated wine palate of anyone I've ever met. After that, we went next door to Alembic for a cocktail. I ordered a slight variation of my usual, and a Sazerac for her. She liked it.

Then we go next door (again) to the Red Vic, which I haven't been to in years. Seems like it's a lot spiffier (in a Red Vic way, that is) than I remember it, which is back when they had actual couches. Had I known the Vic is now almost a real movie theater I might have gone to Figaro instead. I mean I'm not a porn guy to begin with, so sitting in an actual seat to watch the stuff isn't my idea of time well spent.

A woman from Good Vibrations comes out and explains the program and some other hype kind of stuff. There will be 7 films from 5 countries, to be then followed by a screening of a film called Matinee. The director of Matinee, Jennifer Lyon Bell is on hand and will conduct a Q & A after the screening. Good grief, this is weird. Really? A Q & A about a porn film?

The shorts start with "Headshot," an homage to an Andy Warhol film the title of which begins with "blow" and ends with "job." It's actually pretty clever in that you never see anything except the young man's reaction to what's being done to him. Thankfully for the audience and the unseen other member of the cast, it's not all that long and avoids being tiresome and in some moments is pretty damn funny. Then we're stuck with a series of short films featuring tattooed and pierced young people with dirty fingernails in shorts that run about ten minutes long apiece. While I was appreciative of the fact that none of the performers had undergone plastic surgery nor looked like they spent every waking moment at the gym when they weren't snorting coke, aesthetically it got boring pretty fast.

Now allow me to interject that the theater was completely packed. Almost every seat taken by groups, couples and the random old pervy guy 10 or 20 years older than myself and everyone is munching on popcorn. It was almost like watching a documentary on Chomsky. Well, it was like that at least until the moment the guy next to me opened a can of beer and of course the images on screen were different than those seen in Manufacturing Consent. Oddly, the theater was growing very warm. I'm not sure why, but I was starting to sweat. I grew weary of this and was pretty much done with it all. At intermission I wanted to leave.

I told the Femme this and she asked if I had watched the trailer for Matinee, to which I replied in the negative. She convinced me to at least watch a bit of it and then, if I didn't care for it, we could leave, as she wasn't too impressed either but was very interested to see this particular film. I agreed out of a chivalric impulse and not much else.

Matinee is an interesting film about two stage actors who are doing an intimate scene in a play together and they both know isn't working as well as it should. They are told before the matinee performance that a very important talent agent is attending that afternoon. It's like a porn version of Waiting for Guffman. Their futures may ride on this one performance. The male actor tries to talk the female into loosening it up a bit with a bit of pre-performance improv. She declines, thinking it unprofessional but then at the last moment, before their scene, she has a change of heart and decides to take the scene to another level the actor could never have seen coming. This is pretty interesting to watch because the actors are mature (and tattoo and piercing free) and you can actually see the thoughts in their eyes as they convey to each other "are we really going to do this? Here? Now? In front of an audience?" Yes, they do and after awhile they seem to forget this is happening on a stage and I forgot they were actors. Good job people! Art requires giving everything of oneself! It's pretty provocative, explicit, and I have to admit it won me over.

After leaving the theater, the Femme is in a funk because the whole Cinderella/nasty-stepfather/turning into a pumpkin issue looms before her and we end up taking this enormous walk from the Haight to the Castro, where I take my leave of her, watching  as she runs off to catch a bus to the castle on High Street. From there I hit the street, stopping into the Lucky 13 to listen to some Iggy and ponder exactly what is going on here. Then Dr. Hank texts me , writing that Figaro was great, Danielle is fantastic and that he's now going home because he has to work tomorrow and cannot have a drink with me. Fine, I say to myself, and continue on the journey home.

At the corner of Eddy and Van Ness I espy a man on the corner with a telescope. Now, if you were outside on this evening you couldn't help notice the waxing moon on a warm night with cloud wisps scurrying past it constantly. It was beautiful.. I turn and look over my shoulder and sure enough the man has his telescope trained on the moon and what is obviously a planet in plain view to its left. At Van Ness and Eddy- at midnight. This is odd, even for San Francisco.

"Is that Venus?" I ask him.

"No, it's Jupiter," he replies.

"Really?" says I, thinking Jupiter should be full of color while this planet is plainly white like Venus.

"Yes" says he, "Would you like to take a look?"

I  say yes and look into what he describes as a "cheap" telescope he doesn't mind having out on the street next to the Tenderloin as the hour approaches midnight and see not only Jupiter, but three of its moons and Uranus crystal clear. It was fantastic.

The astronomer, whose name is Dave, then proceeded to give me a bit of information on which planets appear when and where. It was all very interesting, not the least because it was happening in this most unusual circumstance, at this most unusual place. Thank you Dave, that was a truly magical moment.

From there I continued my walk home, past the Great American Music Hall, where someone who draws a very large audience of young women was playing, past the dealers, past the whores, returning safely to the reality of my small apartment and strange cat.

And there you are!

The Little Chinese Man's pants and package

Today, 5:32 Geary and Jones, headed east...



The Little Chinese Man, who was in no hurry last week when the Femme Fatale and I followed him, was moving pretty quickly and almost caught me by surprise when I espied him directly across the street waiting for the light to turn. I pulled out the phone, switched on the camera and turned around only to find he had vanished. Then suddenly he appeared from behind that white brick wall you see in the photo, coming toward me with a very deliberate, if mincing, gait.

I'm such a coward when I'm alone. I should have just held the camera up and snapped his frightening visage, but instead I tried be surreptitious and shoot him on the sly. Well, all I got was his fly, which thankfully was zipped. I'm sure the white plastic bag contains the severed head of one of his victims.

My hands are still shaking as I write this.

IXFF- the Indie Erotic Film Festival

Seriously? Yep, and it's just another example of how amusing this City is to live in. Brought to you by the good folks at Good Vibrations, there seems to be a little somethin' somethin' for every taste and preference and since it's the 5th year, they must be doing something right. There are three more nights left and the grand finale at the Castro Theatre sounds like quite a fun time.

The website seems fairly tame given the subject matter, but I wouldn't recommend viewing it at work because of one particular image, which is pretty funny but also makes the cover of Sticky Fingers look, shall we say, small in comparison.

http://www.gv-ixff.org/

We went to hear Heidi Melton. What were you doing?

Heidi Melton. Photo by Kristin Hoebermann, source Columbia Artists Management Inc.

Where was everybody? I was half expecting Heidi Melton's recital at Old First Church to sell out or come close to it, so imagine my surprise to find a very thin crowd on hand for an opportunity to see and hear a singer destined to become one of the leading performers of the German operatic repertoire. Melton's already landing leading roles in major houses in Europe, debuted at the Met and will sing Sieglinde here in June during SFO's Ring cycle. She gave many memorable performances during her time here an Adler Fellow including an especially impressive Schwabacher Debut Recital and last minute replacement for Patricia Racette in Verdi's Requiem. So why were there less than 100 people there? Beats me, but they missed a fantastic performance.

Accompanied by John Parr (Head of San Francisco Opera's Music Staff) on piano, Melton started off with Samuel Barber's Three Songs, Op. 45 and each word was sung with beautiful clarity. She then moved on to Wagner's Wesendonck Lieder, written while he was composing Die Walkure. The songs are set to poems by Mathilde Wesendonck and Melton said she sees this cycle differently than she has in the past, now believing the poems are about the composer. Her interpretation was flawless.

After the intermission she sang seven early songs by Berg, again brilliantly, with "Traumgekront" being especially moving. Next were four Strauss songs. Hearing her sing Berg and Strauss made me want to see her as the Marschallin, which as it turns out she's going to be singing in Europe sometime in the next year. As she sang "Und Klagelaut die luft erfullt, Adonis, Adonis" at the end of "Frulingsfeier (Spring Celebration)"  her voice became a physical presence which I could feel move through my body as I sat in the third row pew. Melton's voice is a huge, powerful force that feels like a lush warm wind blowing through a room. She looks like she's never forcing anything, and gives the appearance that it's completely effortless. As I told her after the show, she's fantastic.

There were two encores, the first was Weill's "My Ship" which was very tenderly sung. I don't know what the last piece was. Among the few others in the audience were Patrick and Axel, who was espied seated dead center in the first row of the balcony. They both declined our invitations for post performance drinks and conversation, so Penelope and I made our own way into the warm fog of a summer evening to figure out the meaning of life. Or something like that.

13 Tzameti

 

When I walked out of the Roxie in July after watching A Serbian Film I stood there on the sidewalk trying to process what I'd just watched and after a few minutes I noticed another guy trying to do the same. Eventually we nodded to one another and started discussing the film. During our conversation he said the last film that he found that compelling was a movie called 13 Tzameti (2005). He didn't tell me the plot- he just said it was a film that stuck with him for awhile and he was sure A Serbian Film was going to be even harder to get out of his head. Based on those comments of course I knew I had to see it. Tonight I watched it and while it's certainly not as devastating as what we saw that night, it's a damn taut thriller which happens to have an American remake with a pretty interesting cast in the can awaiting release.

 

The promising cast of the remake features Mickey Rourke, Jason Statham, 50 Cent and Ben Gazzara among a host of others and fortunately the talented original's director Gela Babluani is at the helm. However, I think the original French/Georgian film will be of interest to any fan of very dark thrillers and it's easier to watch a film like this when the cast in unfamilar.

The plot is simple: a broke young man assumes the identity of a dead man to participate in something about which he only knows has the potential for a very large financial pay-off. When he shows up for the "job" he finds out he's about to be one of thirteen players in a game of Russian roulette where the odds of survival are stacked against the participants and worsen with each round. Watching this play out live is a roomful of very wealthy gamblers who are betting obscene stakes on the outcome of a ridiculous game of chance,

 

Shot in black and white with a cast of talented and unique actors, superbly edited and a plot as straight as a bullet's trajectory, I recommend this highly and it's available on Netflix. Not high on the gore factor, but pretty violent and very suspenseful. It won the Sundance Grand Jury award among a host of other prestigious prizes. I somehow doubt the remake will be as good, but I'll definitely be seeing it. In the meantime, put this at the top of your queue. The dvd has an extra short on it called "Sunday Games" that is worth watching and that's all I'm going to say about it except "Wow, how did you guys come up with that idea and how did you talk all of those old ladies into actually appearing in it?"

The image below, with two men facing each other with guns pointing at each another's heads, has been done ad nauseum ever since I saw it the first time in John Woo's action masterpiece The Killers. 13 Tzameti is the first film since then where I've seen this done and thought to myself  "this time it's real- they're not just ripping off Woo's signature face-off."



Aida, as always



Photo by Cory Weaver

The popularity of Verdi's Aida has always been a bit of a mystery to me and long ago I decided it must be due to its size, which obviously matters at least to some people some of the time. But everything "good" about it can be found in other works by the composer that to my mind are much more successful and interesting. The Triumphal March, arguably the biggest moment in the opera, isn't nearly as thrilling as Don Carlo's "Auto Da Fe." Musically, the opera's most exciting parts sound like recycled Rigoletto. The love triangle/conflict isn't nearly as compelling as Otello's or La Traviata's and its patriotism is more interestingly illustrated in a host of others. In other words, Aida is second-rate Verdi. Someone has to say it, may as well be me.

The thing that grates on me, making the idea of watching Aida onstage just shy of ridiculous, is that major U.S. houses seem incapable to stage it in any way other than with the most straightforward of productions. There must be an elephant, there must be a set which looks like Luxor and Giza, the costumes have to look like Cleopatra. It's always so predictable. The rub however, is the music's complete incongruity with all of it. Certainly this is true of other operas, Nabucco being a prime example, but the sheer scale of Aida, its immense proportions, makes it all the more absurd. We've seen and heard all of these elements before, but they're easier to accept (or ignore) when there isn't an elephant on the stage (this is the version of Aida I'd like to see).

On the bright side, there's a first rate production of this sort now sprawling across the stage at San Francisco Opera. There's been a lot of commentary about production designer Zandra Rhodes' use of color in the sets and costumes, but the reality is she's pretty spot on when it comes to what this stuff should look like. If you've ever visited Luxor and looked at the parts of the temple which haven't baked in the Egyptian sun for  5000 years you realize the entire temple complex was one riot of outrageous colors. Besides, the last production of Rhodes' seen here (The Pearl Fishers) was a similar piece of bright and shiny eye candy.

The singing is big. It's not always pretty, but it's always big. Making her local debut, Micaela Carosi's Aida started out a little leathery at first (perhaps the effects of a six day break after opening night) and then grew warm if never really captivating. Her account of "Ritorna vincitor" oddly drew no applause, something that seems to have happened on opening night as well. Though she's performed the role at several major houses internationally, I'm not sure it's that well-suited for her. I'd be more interested in seeing her as Desdemona or Amelia.

Marcello Giordani's Radames was another large voice that filled the house, and it's a very Italian one at that, but it's not a unique voice nor one of nuance and he struggled in the early "Celeste Aida" to the point where it had little charm. After that early misfire he hit his stride and remained there for the rest of the night, delivering a very straightforward, by-the-book performance that, like his appearance here in Luisa Miller in 2000, I probably won't be able to recall with any clarity by the season's end.

Marco Vratogna's Amonasro has a nice tone, and can convey rage with it quite well, as he did in last year's Otello, but I swear I couldn't make out a single syllable of what he was singing. Vratogna's acting was the strongest of the cast, who mostly seemed willing to let the staging and costumes do the heavy lifting.

Speaking of heavy lifting, when two supernumeraries appeared onstage with sticks and put them under the chair of Dolora Zajik's Amneris, I thought the poor bastards were going to have to carry her off the stage on it- you know, like they do in that Elizabeth Taylor/Richard Burton movie that also takes place in Egypt.. Thankfully, SFO was spared what would have definitely been hefty insurance claims and for no reason at all these two just marched around with the chair before eventually making their exit. Just some busy work to keep the audience's mind off the fact that for huge stretches of this opera nothing really happens at all. Yes, of course, the reigning Amneris of the day sang well and sang big. I'm just not that much of a fan of hers. She's like Patricia Racette to me- I know a lot of people think she's wonderful but she really doesn't do much for me. I would love to see Michelle De Young in this role instead (see link above).

Hao Jiang Tian's Ramfis was excellent and another very big voice with the added bonus of great stage presence. Christian Van Horn's local debut as the King was a similar success).

Not surprisingly, the chorus got a lot opportunities to shine and certainly made the most of them. This is the finest I've heard them in years and that bodes very well for this summer's Gotterdammerung. In the pit, Luisotti conducted with a temperance he rarely exhibits, even though he was spinning around like a gyroscope at times. The orchestra sounded consistent but at no point did anything really become musically exciting. The Triumphal March well choreographed and featured some wonderful, though incongruous, dancing. However, it was seriously marred by some horrendous trumpet playing that approached the pain threshold.

The elephant was very beautifully rendered.

It's playing a million more times and with an entirely different cast beginning in November. The next cast may be even better than this one except the Amneris is a (so far) lower-profile singer who will make it either sink into the Nile or surprise everyone by gliding down it on a felucca. Or something like that.

Madame Merle Pirouettes

At Climax head west
Weave your way, the river waits
For your performance

The Ambassador roams high and low

Filoli

Penelope and I went to the Giants/Dodgers game last night, and as we were watching the game she reminded me of the former name of this blog since we had attended the symphony opening, heard a great jazz concert featuring Janice Siegel of Manhattan Transfer at Filoli (which I will eventually put up a post about), Fringe plays and more during what has been a pretty busy week for me. She wasn't even there for half of what I've attended.

But roaming high and low is what makes it interesting to live here because there's simply so much to take in. It also keeps one's perspective fresh, because after hanging out with Penelope and two old-time Giants fans at Public House after the game, I awoke this morning with a second wind, looking forward to seeing Aida tonight with Newsome.

A note about Public House: you folks need to decide if the place is a bar or a restaurant and act accordingly. At around 10:40 the bouncer/doorman came over to our table and told us if we wanted a last round to do it now because the place closes at 11:00 and everyone needed to be out of there. Curiously, the kitchen was closed by the time we went depsite the fact there were at least 100 people in the place and more followed in behind us. So, owners of Public House, you have a restaurant where the kitchen closes after the game? That makes no sense at all. We looked around at all the people in the place, all drinking, some just getting started and said, "Really? You want to clear all of these people out of here?"

The bouncer replied "Yes, the restaurant is closed, and we need to clear it.Need everyone out by 11:00"

Well, Public House, I've worked in restaurants and one thing you do not do is tell people when it's time to leave. Yes, you can do that in a bar, but you don't do it in a restaurant. So decide, because it left a pretty bad taste in our mouths. And the Manhattan wasn't great either. As for the food, well, we couldn't try any because the kitchen was closed. Dumb.

Finally, last night was the third baseball game I've attended this year, which is three times the normal amount I usually go to in a season. Two visits to ATT and one at Yankee Stadium has made me conclude that modern stadiums are really a pain in the ass and it's better to watch the game on TV. Who needs to go to a game only to be assaulted by mindless crap during the entire game. It's especially awful at Yankee Stadium, where not only the seats horrifically narrow and the volume of the speakers deafening, but it costs more to go to a Yankees game than it does to attend an opera at the Met. Go figure.

And there you are.

Marcher hits the wall

I can't seem to recall the last evening I spent leisurely at home but it feels like it was prior to visiting New York. Last night I got together with the Femme Fatale and the Minister's Rebellious Daughter for drinks and two more plays at Fringe. The Femme ended up having to depart prematurely, leaving the Rebellious one and me to take up the plays on our own. We made the first one, He/She and Me, a love story with about a minute to spare. It was determined afterward the Rebellious one would write the review for this one, while I would take care of the second, The Self Rose. At this point however, all I can say is that both were worthwhile. After 14 different performances in a week I, Marcher, have hit the wall and look forward to Friday, an evening of nothing to do except catch up on Mad Men. Until then, I'm going to skip tonight's opening of Werther and see it next week. Instead I'm opting for the more relaxing (and of no consequence to A Beast) choice of attending the Giants game with Penelope. Tomorrow night is Aida- if I can make it that far.

He/She and Me plays three more times:
WED SEPT 15 7:00 PM
FRI SEPT 17 7:00 PM
SAT SEPT 18 4:00 PM

The Self Rose twice more:
FRIDAY 17 10:30 PM
SATURDAY 18 4:00 PM

Don't blow it- this is your Jerry Springer moment.

I almost don't know where to begin with this post, but one thing is true- the first act of Jerry Springer, the Opera made me laugh until I had to wipe tears from my cheeks- and then I kept wiping them away for remainder of the show. Brilliantly written and designed by Richard Thomas as a true opera, it won all of the top theater awards in England when it premiered and it's now playing through October 16th at the Victoria Theater at 16th and Mission. Musically, it's a weird combination of Handel and Lloyd Weber that isn't going to make "serious" opera fans think John Adams or Kaija Saariaho has a challenger coming up behind them, but it is more interesting and sophisticated than any contemporary musical I can recall in recent years. It requires people who can really sing opera and Ray of Light Theater has found a terrific, all local, cast for this show. It doesn't feel, look nor sound like a show put on by a "small" company and Ray of Light has done an excellent job with this production, which celebrates their 10th anniversary.

Chad Newsome, Cara Louise, DF and I attended the Saturday night performance on opening weekend and there was a palpable excitement in the air, made all the more fun by a faux red-carpet entrance complete with photographers to make the attendees feel like they were going to have their own little "Jerry moment." The first act of the show is like a typical Springer episode but with the sleaze factor magnified tenfold as one guest after another reveals who they are secretly involved with. The chorus, which comments on the proceedings with a wit and energy worthy of Euripides, mocks, threatens and cajoles the guests. The craziness escalates as each guest takes a turn, culminating in Chris Yorro running around the stage in a blue diaper during "Diaper Man/ Montel Cums Dirty." Yes, those are the names of the arias in an opera which also features such wholesome numbers as "I've Been Seeing Someone Else," "Chick with a Dick," "Poledancer" and "Every Last Motherf**ker Should Go Down," just to name a few.

Timitio Artusio, Chris Yorro, Jessica Coker; Rebecca Pingree (front)

Photo by Michah Joel

I won't spoil too much of the plot, but suffice to say that God and the Devil (a terrific turn by Jonathan Reisfield) have a showdown for Springer's soul which includes appearances by the KKK, Jesus, Mary and Adam and Eve. It's offensive as can be, but it's truly hysterical. Patrick Michael Dukeman is spot-on as Springer, pretty much the only character in show who doesn't sing all of his lines. The entire cast is solid, the costumes are perfect and the set by Maya Linke looks just right. The music, led by Ben Prince (Martuni's regulars may recognize him, as well as J.Conrad Franke who plays Springer's Inner Valkyrie), is overly loud at times but the mix can be heard if one pays attention. The volume seems appropriate to the action onstage however, and all of the singers are mic'd of course. We sat in the 2nd row and had no problem hearing everyone, though I've been told the acoustics in the house are very inconsistent. Performances are general seating, so get there early and ask someone is the house where the "sweet spots" are.

Go see this. I really don't want to tell you more than I already have because most of it has to be seen and heard to be believed. I've ever laughed this much at an opera in my life. Nor do I ever expect to again. With the exception of the Makropolous Case- this is going to beat anything at the "real" opera house over on Van Ness, at least until June, when Wagner's 15 hour opus on the perils of incest unfurls (aka Der Ring Des Nibelungen). I can't recommend this show highly enough- and best of all, there are tickets on Goldstar!

One of these people is John Marcher. The rest are waiting for their "Jerry moment."

Following the Little Chinese Man with the Femme Fatale in tow

It had to happen. He hasn't been seen in a month and a day and I was actually wondering when he would return. For some reason, I had a weird feeling as I went to meet the Femme Fatale at Union Square so I took my phone out of my pocket and turned on the camera. I knew today would feature a sighting of the Little Chinese Man.

It took him long enough to make his ghastly entrance. We were less than a minute to safety. We were right across the street from where I live, and there he was- walking toward my building. Not in the same direction he was walking the last time, mind you. No, this time he was headed west.

Something was off, though. Yes, he had on a new sweater, but that wasn't it. Then it hit me. The LCM usually walks very fast- as if there is something in his pants that will come loose and fall to the ground if he simply walks fast enough. Today he was moving slowly. Not even ambling, really- more like meandering.

The Femme Fatale marvelled that he does indeed really exist and she was seeing him in the flesh. I looked at her and there was only one thing to do since I was safely in the company of another and really, what terror, what havoc, what torture could he wreak on both of us? We decided to follow him.

He walked, weaved actually, down O'Farrell, casually glancing at the other side of the street as he strolled. I have to admit I thought he was looking for me.

At Hyde he made a left. We followed him, coming up right behind him at Ellis. He didn't turn around at all, but I knew that he knew we were there. He crossed and made his way to Eddy. And stopped. Now we were stuck. There he was, stopped, and we're at Hyde and Eddy- a crappy corner if there ever was one and the FF was starting to attract attention. The light turned and the LCM crossed, heading west again toward Larkin. We waited, then crossed behind him.

At that moment the FF asked aloud if he was a male prostitute cruising for johns. The idea had never crossed my mind before but it made sense because clearly LCM had nowhere particular in mind for a destination. Oh dear, this wasn't a good thought. If this were true, what am I doing running into the same little street cruiser over and over again? I decided against it- for my own sanity this couldn't be the simple explanation behind the LCM. I can't imagine anyone actually paying money to have sex with LCM. Then again, there is that scary, skinny redhead and she's been selling it on the street for more than 10 years now and she still seems to be in business even if her appearances are more infrequent lately. Then there's the one-legged hooker who hangs out at Hyde and O'Farrell. Okay, I guess it is possible, but I never see male hookers in this part of town and I always thought the amputee had a pretty good gimmick with those crutches.

We got to Larkin and slowed down. I expected him to cross back toward Geary, making a little loop, where we could follow him while making our way back to our original destination. I watched for him in the distance. And he disappeared. Just like that. Frightening, isn't it? I'm sure glad the FF was there to experience the horror with me. She'll never be the same.

The Stories of Cesar Chavez

Hal Holbrooke did Twain and Lincoln. Someone did Will Rogers but I can't recall who it was. Shoot, even Bush was recently done on film and stage. It makes total sense then, for someone to portray Cesar Chavez in an earnest and thoughtful way on the stage, reminding us of the man whose courage and integrity has often become lost or buried in political symbolism for many people.

Los Angeles resident and longtime actor Fred Blanco has written his first play as a re imagining of certain parts of Chavez's life. It's powerful, thoughtful and inspiring. Blanco clearly idolizes Chavez but this show isn't about hagiography. It's an honest look at an important man who made a major impact on the lives of many but didn't do it for glory. Well-written and superbly acted, The Stories of Cesar Chavez is well worth your time. Highly recommended.

Three more shows at the Exit on Taylor:
TUES SEPT 14 7:00 PM

WED SEPT 15 10:30 PM
SAT SEPT 18 1:00 PM

Phone Whore

Twenty five years ago, or something like that- it was in what certainly feels like another lifetime now, I made the acquaintance of a woman who was a phone sex operator and a fetish model. The interesting thing about her, well actually there were a few interesting things, but the one which stuck in my mind is that she only modeled shoes and most of her phone clientele had a shoe or foot fetish. She was a very large woman with small, exquisite feet. Yes, of course I made her show them to me. Wouldn't you? Today we have nicer adjectives for women of her size, but back then I just thought she was huge. Except for her feet. She was maybe a size 6 and she had perfectly shaped ankles.  Nothing else about her physical presence appealed to me personally, but I had to admit she was perfect for this particular job, except for the fact that she had a strong Brooklyn accent which I found funnier than hell and not at all sexy. Every now and again I would get her to tell me stories about the men she made her living off of and I would insist she tell me these stories in her "phone voice." The whole idea that men would actually call her and pay good money to have her describe her shoes and how she would walk all over them in her 5 inch feels was hilarious to me. At least until I met a professional dominatrix about a year later and then the whole shoe thing just seemed silly.

Whatever.

It was probably these fond memories of the times long past that made me want to see Cameryn Moore's Phone Whore at the Fringe Festival. I'd seen Moore earlier last weekend pitching the show and she kind of reminded me of the shoe model- large and at least in my mind, not exactly the woman I would want to picture on the other end of the line. Moore knows this- she gives a funny alternative description about what she tells her clients she actually looks like. Kind of like Kim Kardashian with a HH cup. It's all a fantasy, right?

Phone Whore is an hour with Moore as she talks about her job and details her specialties, which include BBC- an acronym I have no idea about the actual meaning of, but it seems to be about straight men who want to be gang-raped by other men, especially large African American men in a locker room, and incest and pedophilia fans. Yuck. Moore's take on this is "don't judge"- at least this is all going on in a fanstasy phone world and not in real life, but at the end it just gets icky. Too icky- probably because Moore's good enough at the gig to make the audience believe this is the way down the rabbit hole that in so many ways destroys actual lives when it no longer stays a "fantasy."

The program has a disclaimer which states "The activities depicted in Phone Whore are contained in fantasy scenarios created by mutually consenting adults. The depiction of any illegal activites should not be construed as advocating for real-life enactment of such activities." It's not as bad as what happens in "A Serbian Film," but it's not far from it. Did I say "ick"? You've been warned. It's billed as a comedy/drama- but once it gets to the incest/pedophile fantasies the comedy has been left far behind.

There are three remaining shows, but I think you could find something better to watch:
TUES SEPT 14 7:00 PM
WED SEPT 15 10:30 PM
FRI SEPT 17 7:00 PM

Details on Urban Opera's "The Witch of Endor:

Here are the details (Courtesy of Michelle McGill):
music by Henry Purcell, conceived and directed by Chip Grant

October 30 & 31 4:00 p.m.

Urban Opera launches its second production with an expanded work drawn from an English opera scene by Henry Purcell on October 30th and 31st with Shawnette Sulker in the title role and Colby Roberts as King Saul.

The Witch of Endor features “In Guilty Night”; Purcell’s setting of an anonymous libretto, based on a story from The Hebrew Bible. Also featured are selections from Purcell’s liturgical canon as well as excerpts from two Purcell operas, The Indian Queen and Abdelazar. This “new work” is told in the style of an ancient Greek tragedy.

The opera uses modern theatrical devises to bring those unfamiliar with The First Book of Samuel up to speed. Saul, the first king of Israel, seeks guidance as to what he should do as the Philistine army threatens to overrun his kingdom. Saul calls upon God who does not answer; so he goes to Dreams who also does not show him the way. He finally resorts to a medium to call up the ghost of the prophet Samuel for guidance. The ghost gives him the answer although it may not be the answer he was looking for.

Urban Opera brings together singers and actors from across a broad spectrum of the music world. Featured with Ms. Sulker and Mr. Roberts are soprano Lindsey McLennan (Dreams), bass-baritone John Minagro (Samuel), The Urban Opera Chorus and String Ensemble.

Modern costume design coupled with contemporary theatrical devices aid in bringing the opera out of antiquity and into a modern sensibility.

This site-specific performance will take place at The Episcopal Church of St. Mary the Virgin in San Francisco.

Tickets are on sale now at:

http://www.brownpapertickets.com/event/129072

Magnum Opus Theatre presents "Star Crossed Love"

Magnum Opus is a very talented group of young, good-looking actors who specialize in performing really bad screenplays live onstage. They've really found quite a doozy in "Star Crossed Love" which will leave you wondering exactly what was in the mind of its writer. It's beyond bad- it's embarrasingly bad. But the actors give it their all and the result is a crowd pleasing hour of laughs at the expense of whoever wrote this piece of crap.

There are three more performances at the Exit on Taylor:
Sun, Sept 12 1:00 PM
Fri, Sept 17 8:30 PM
Sat, Sept 18 2:30 PM

http://www.sffringe.org/fringe10/10plays/magnum.html

Man on Sex

James Schneider's Man on Sex through me for a bit of a loop because I was expecting a funny meditation on what men think about sex. Instead, what Schneider gives us is his perspective on his sex life as he comes to grips with how to navigate living in a sexless marriage. Alternating between anecdotes, reflections and very well-crafted songs, he takes the audience deep into his own personal trials and while it's never uninteresting, it's often personal to the point of voyeuristic weirdness. I know too many people in this same situation and I'm just not sure I really want to hear about a stranger's take on this, though his "Penisfesto" is simply brilliant.

Schneider even offered to stick around afterward in the Exit's cafe to chat, but the only thing I could think of to ask him in this scenario was if everything he was relating was true, and I really didn't want to know the answer if it was "yes." But he's funny, and  he's a very talented songwriter-composer. His tunes, which resemble the more artful side of Billy Joel's work, are well constructed, minor-key based pieces of pure pop delight. As I listened to him play and sing I thought to myself how great he would be at composing a full-blown musical. Hopefully he will, but on a different topic.

There are three more performances at the Exit, 156 Eddy St., San Francisco:
Sat, Sept 18 5:30 PM

Sat, Sept 18 7:00 PM
Sun, Sept 19 1:00 PM

The VO5 Experience

Karen Bankhead is a warm and generous performer with a tremendous ear for ethnic accents. Her one woman show The VO5 Experience, has her in multiple roles: Sunday school teacher, insecure actress, a Vietnamese boat woman transformed into a millionaire, a Latina named Corvette and most wonderfully as the 103 year old Ella Mae Mumphries who seems to have single-handedly played no small part in the rise of some America's most prominent and important Black public figures.

The play has a strong connection to the gentler side popular Black theater, which has strong connections to the church. That's the downside for me, as the VO5 Experience ultimately is like attending a feel-good church, where everything turns out just right if you only put your faith in the Lord and stop to listen for the message. I'm sure it's a message that resonates with a lot of folks and Bankhead delivers it in a pleasing fashion.

The final performance is tomorrow, Sept 12, at 6:00 PM, 156 Eddy St.. If you didn't get your church fix on earlier that morning, you may want to catch up with Bankhead's show.

The Burroughs and Kookie Show: Late Night in the Interzone

Maybe it was just dumb luck, but my first night attending the 2010 San Francisco Fringe Festival  had the unexpected delight of watching three plays in a row, with each one being better than the last. How many times can something like that happen, especially when the first was pretty damn good and the last one of the night had the potential to be a real stinker but ended up being fantastic? I won't keep my fingers crossed that everything else is going to be this good but what I saw tonight set the bar pretty high for the remaining plays I plan on attending.

The Burroughs and Kookie Show: Late Night in the Interzone is a one-hour visit with William S. Burroughs (performed by Christopher Kuckenbaker), as he hosts his own talk show in the Interzone. Starting with a gaze into the Dreamachine, Kuckenbaker does a pretty amazing job as Burroughs- to the extent one can mimic such an inimitable voice, he has the cadences and rasp down. He also has the body language and this makes it more than a simple impersonation, rather it's a tribute in dark sepia. Kuckenbaker also performs Burroughs' guest on on the program, Mr. Baker, an actor who comes to shill his movie, ends up outing himself and being assaulted by Burroughs.

Sound weird? It's not really, but Kuckenbaker gives a simply amazing performance and he's riveting. It becomes very intimate by the end- you're brought into Burroughs' world, not simply watching it. The program says "written and performed" by Kuckenbaker, but hefty sections of the script are Burroughs' own words, as anyone who's ever heard "Words of Advice" on Material's  Hallucination Engine album will recognize that rap, avuncularly delivered by Kuckenbaker toward the show's end.

Don't miss this- it's brilliantly done. Penelope thought so too and I half-expected her to hate it. So there you are- suck on Steely Dan, mugwumps.

This one sold out, and there are only three more performances on 

Mon Sept 13th, 8:30 PM

Thurs Sept 16th 10:30 PM
Sun Sept 19th 9:00 PM
You can listen to Burroughs on these Material albums:

Only here because how many times am I going to get a chance to put a picture of Burroughs on my blog