Urban Opera bewitches again

Last summer Urban Opera burst onto the local performing arts scene with a magnificent production of Purcell's Dido and Aeneas that became one of the most discussed and admired performances of the year.  That success made many people wonder what Artistic Director Chip Grant was going to do next, but word from the company on their next production didn't arrive until last month, when they announced they were going to perform "The Witch of Endor," again featuring the music of Purcell. It wasn't really clear what this was actually going to be, since there is no such opera and the initial information given was more intriguing than informative. 

On Saturday at 4:00 in the afternoon, while standing in the courtyard of the Episcopal Church of St. Mary the Virgin waiting for the doors to open, a raggedy man entered pushing a cart full of trash and stood  in front of the church door. He held a crushed can in his raised hand, using it as a clicker to gain people's attention. Then he started to recite Rudyard Kipling's "The Witch of En Dor" and it felt like something out of Cormac McCarthy novel. The doors then opened and we were ushered inside the beautiful small, Scandanavian-looking church, where the small orchestra was playing and the chorus was already seated. From the beginning it seemed like this was going to be something different and it was.

The orchestra, comprised of two violins, viola, two cellos and a harpsichord were playing the chaconne from King Arthur. After the audience was seated, the Rev. Dr. Jason Parkin stood before us and read a passage from Samuel, in a sense providing us with the plot of what we were about to see. A screen was lowered and a 16mm black and white film showing coronation ceremonies, military processions, weird looking old women and more were shown, illustrating the story of Saul's ascent as king and his banishment of witches from the kingdom.

The witch hunt was enacted by a drum circle and actors, followed by the orchestra playing the Canzonetta from Sonata V. This was exciting to watch, as it wasn't clear what was going to happen next. Bare chested men were being roughed up, a beautiful witch in a gorgeous costume was being exiled and then Saul (Colby Roberts) entered and stood center stage to sing "Hear My Prayer O Lord" accompanied by the chorus.

Then we came to the center of the work, beginning with a scene from The Indian Queen where the Goddess of  Dreams- Lindsey McLennan (in another fantastic costume, singing from the rear balcony of the church) tells Saul "seek not to know." The choreography and music were compelling at this point and it was already clear the company was doing something truly visionary and unique.  From there the orchestra performed In Guilty Night, where Saul meets his demise after a warning by Samuel (a fantastic turn by John Mingaro) who has been conjured up the witch (superbly sung by Shawnette Sulker) at Saul's request.

When Saul dies, the chorus, which had steadfastly remained seated in profile during the entire performance, turned to show the hidden sides of their faces had been painted in death skulls. It was a great theatrical touch but it was perhaps just the best of many that were thoughtfully placed throughout the piece. The raggedy man from the beginning (Gary Graves) returned to finish Kipling's poem. And then this  brilliant production was over before an hour had even elapsed. No filler, no fluff, and everything about it moved toward the climax like a bullet shot from a gun in the hand of Aristotle.

Congratulations Urban Opera- not only have you come up with another winner, but this was wholly original, exciting, and like last year's Dido, is probably going to be talked about for a long time. This production confirms the company is no fluke. So let's have some more and please don't make us wait another year before you do something else. Bay Area opera lovers can only hope in vain that the big company at the War Memorial would do something this interesting and well-executed.

50 Horrors!

For Halloween, a list of 50 horror movies I really like or admire, in no real particular order:

The Exorcist
Rosemary's Baby
Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1978)
28 Days Later
The Hills Have Eyes (original)
The Hills Have Eyes (remake)
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original)
The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (remake)
House of 1000 Corpses
Aliens
Alien
Hostel
A Serbian Film
Re-Animator
Black Christmas (original)
Let the Right One In
Near Dark
Evil Dead Part 2
The Shining (Kubrick's)
The Dead Zone
Videodrome
Dead Ringers
The Descent
The Thing (1982)
The Omen (original)
The Bride of Frankenstein
Psycho (original)
Frenzy
The Tennant
It's Alive
Night of the Living Dead (original)
Dawn of the Dead (original)
A Nightmare on Elm Street (original)
A Nightmare on Elm Street 3
The Fly (1986)
Dead Alive
Night of the Demons (original)
Jaws
When A Stranger Calls
The Stepfather (original)
Hard Candy
Vampire Girl vs. Frankenstein Girl
Make Them Die Slowly (aka Cannibal Ferox)
The Unknown
Saw
Freaks
Jenifer
Zombie
Cat People (both versions)
Halloween

A Serial Killer Harp Teacher and Bratwurst!

Sometimes I like to follow and the Femme Fatale had been itching for awhile to take the lead, so she planned an evening last of places I've never been and probably never would have found out about on my own. We began the evening at the tiny, funky Red Poppy Art House to hear harpist Gillian Grassie. The performance was to start at 7, so I thought "how long can one possibly play the harp?" and figured we'd be out of there around 8 and then on to dinner at a place also of the Femme's choosing.

At eight o'clock Grassie announced it was time for a break. Break? Horrors. I was ready to eat. The Femme however, was not. Nor did I hear anyone else grumbling about this, so I just went outside and talked to a couple of young women who were English majors at Berkeley who were enamored of Grassi so far.  Then it began again, and though Grassie is an interesting and entertaining, anecdote-spewing performer, skilled on her instrument, a two and a half hour performance of music played on a harp proved a bit much for an unfed me. I was grateful when it was over, though it certainly wasn't an unpleasant performance- just a very, very long one.

Afterward, we went for German food at Schmidt's, which was excellent even though they were out of pretzels, there were a couple of large, way too-loud groups, and the waiter totally messed up not only on our drink order but spilled food on my jacket. Still, it was one of those great nights of weird little pleasures in our fabulous City.  Check all of this places and people out, though know that the pics on the Red Poppy site are, um, a bit different than the reality.

West Side Story

Miss Trixie came up with tickets to see the opening night of West Side Story, the only downside of which was I had to stop watching the Giants pound the crap out of the Rangers- but at least I made it to the sixth inning. What a game!

I wish the roadshow version of Bernstein's and Robbins' masterpiece that got underway at the Orpheum last night for a month-long run was as thrilling but it's not. It's a good show, very good in many ways, but not a great one because of one large and insurmountable problem- the orchestra kind of stinks. Now, if you're not overly familiar with the music (I know at least one person who fits that description) this may not even be noticeable to you, so go and enjoy. If you're more interested in the singing and dancing- go and enjoy. If you love Bernstein's music, you may well be disappointed in how it gets treated here.

The orchestra (ha!) is comprised of sixteen players, conducted by John O'Neill, and it just sounds weak and underpowered. "America," "Gee Officer Krupke," were flaccid and "Cool" just never really got hot. The "Dance at the Gym" scene worked really well because of great choreography and dancing, despite the anemic sounding orchestra- it was the one part where it's easy to overlook there's a gaping hole in this revival and it's down in the pit.

The cast is wonderful: Jospeh Simoene's Riff, German Santiago's Bernardo, Michelle Aravena's Anita and Ali Ewoldt's Maria all managed to walk that delicate line of portraying these characters as we expect them to be yet managed to put their own stamp of individuality on them. Kyle Harris as Tony didn't fare as well- lacking the charisma of the other principals. The rest of the cast were extremely well-rehearsed in the choreography and are solid in the vocal department.

The staging is perfect- reflective of the era but with modern touches that make the stage look gorgeous at times and menacing at others. The lighting creates a perfect ambiance and this is a darker West Side Story than we are used to seeing. Miss Trixie didn't like the costumes for the Sharks girls, thinking they should have been in pencil skirts with slits, but I never realized she was right until she said so. Huge kudos to Joey McKneely for doing a fantastic job with Robbins' choreography. David Sant's take on the reboot of Arthur Laurent's Broadway production direction was invisible- perfect for this show.

As you can see there is a lot that is really great here, so go- I recommend it. Even a WSS with only lukewarm music is going to be better than almost anything else you spend an evening seeing. As for this production being "groundbreaking" I can't validate that- the idea of Puerto Rican characters speaking Spanish onstage (in limited amounts) is hardly worth taking note of- at least in California. Cutting some of the more comedic elements and making it noticeably darker in tone and implications works very well and that this is seamlessly done is a testament to the strength of the material. These twists- something that wouldn't have ever been attempted in the 1950's- seems appropriate now, not radical. Some of the dialogue sounds dated of course to contemporary ears, but this show is no museum piece. What takes place on the stage is alive and vibrant.


I just wish the same could found in the pit. Nevertheless, West Side Story is an essential work of American theater and music. You'd be foolish to miss it.

Jeremy Denk plays Ligeti, Liszt, and Bach

This past Sunday was a dreary, wet day- perfect for spending the afternoon indoors listening to some music, so the Femme Fatale and I drove over to Berkeley to hear Jeremy Denk play the piano. The last time I saw I Denk I wasn't impressed. In fact, it resulted in one the snarkier posts I've ever written which then resulted in an interesting email exchange between us. Having missed him the last time he came through the area I was looking forward to another opportunity to hear him and the scheduled program was promising.

Things got off to a rocky start before Denk even came onstage, with the announcement of a change to the program. Instead of Books 1 and 2 of the Ligeti Etudes, we were now only going to hear most of Book 1 and get Liszt's Dante Sonata in place of the 2nd. A man seated in the row in front of us let out an exasperated expletive at this announcement and I too, thought something similar. There was also an apology about the performance starting late, which was described as being "due to the weather."

I wondered what exactly that meant. At about 3:20 I noticed John Adams enter the hall and take a seat. 30 seconds later Denk appeared on stage. So "due to the weather" actually means "we're making you wait until John Adams arrives, because obviously it's more important he not miss a thing than it is to start the performance on time." Or perhaps Denk and Adams were hanging out together and both of them were late? Unlikely, but possible I suppose.

Once onstage, Denk had to ask for a rack to be put on the piano to hold the sheet music for the Ligeti.

Finally, we had some music. Denk tore into the first of Ligeti's etudes with abandon. It certainly looked difficult to play and watching Denk's fingers fly across the keys was akin to watching a skilled acrobat. Denk leaned forward, concentrating, nodding his head to the page turner when he was ready. The second etude was slower in pace but musically as rich as the first. The slower pace allowed Denk to become a more physical performer and this is where I get distracted. It's my pet peeve I guess, but having to endure way too many "rock star" grimaces that looked so stupid and fake as a teenager, I have an aversion to overly emotive, dramatic performers who make these poses as if to say "ahhh- look at me and how I feel the music!" . It's just a turn-off for me. Yes, I can close my eyes, but on a rainy afternoon, seated next to the Femme, in the warm auditorium, closing my eyes would have been the equivalent of having a cup of brown rice tea and two Excedrin PMs. So I tried to not be bothered by Denk's mannerisms and just focus on the music, which was in turn quite compelling and made me wonder what it was about the third etude and the ones of Book 2 that proved too daunting to perform. Ligeti brings a lot of influences to bear in these pieces- including jazz and Bartok, and they really are virtuoso works. I think everyone in attendance felt let down after getting a delicious first course only to be denied the second because the chef wasn't properly prepared.

Denk made some light hearted comments before playing the Liszt sonata in an attempt to ameliorate the disappointment. He has an engaging stage presence and I do think he won the audience over with his humility and charm. However, Liszt is a disappointing substitute for Ligeti and the Dante sonata has some bombastic parts which gave Denk the opportunity to go big with the mannerisms again. Well-played? Extremely. Interesting? Not as much.

The second part of the program was The Goldberg Variations, which had the Etudes been performed in full, would have made this a concert of  immense musical interest. Denk played these from memory and gave them a lush account, but I had to close my eyes during most of it because Denk was too much for me to watch. The downside of this is the variations started to have the same effect on me as they did on Count Keyserling, and soon I would feel myself bordering a state of slumber. Then I would open my eyes and look jealously at Axel Feldheim, who was seated in front of me with the score in his lap. If only I had a different visual focus I could apply my attention toward. Afterward, I asked Axel if Denk had made a couple of errors in the transitions but he assured me Denk played with great precision and accuracy. Mannerisms aside, the man plays beautifully.

After the concert Denk had an hour-long conversation with John Adams which was interesting, though Adams' disdain for Liszt was pretty evident and I would have loved to see this become a debate about the composer and how we view performers in a historical context.  Though it never got to that point, it was well worth sticking around for, which most people did, including Patrick, whom I looked for but did not see. You can read his account of the afternoon here. When they quit the stage so Denk could go get a beer, the Femme attempted to prod me into approaching Denk to ask him about the drink I once offered to share with him as a peace offering, but I demurred. We then departed for a nice meal at Cafe Rouge before heading back across the bay.

This concert was part of the Koret series of Cal Performances, who have a fantastic season under way. Check their website for upcoming events, which include something for everyone.

The Odyssey of Christy Rogers

The first time I saw Christy Rogers' work I was stunned by the mysterious and beautiful images she created photographing women underwater.

The collection was called Sirens.

She's been working on a new collection this past year, called Odyssey.

This new collection features a deeper, more vivid exploration of color and includes male images.

The images are completely created within her camera- nothing is retouched or manipulated.

There are more than 100 life-sized images and Rogers says "each image represents a character that embodies this other-worldly story of good versus evil." 

There's much more I could say, but I think the work says everything you need to know about it.


My hope is for a Bay Area gallery to take note of the terrifying beauty of these photographs and have an exhibit of her work here.

It's simply thrilling.

Rogers' work is currently on exhibit at the James Gray Gallery, Bergamot Station in Santa Monica, California; Laura Rathe Fine Art in Houston, Texas, Cedar Street Galleries and Fine Art Associates in Honolulu, Hawaii and will soon be on display during the New Orleans PhotoNola Photography Festival and at the Honolulu Academy of Arts, at Linekona.


To see more, visit http://www.christyrogers.com/ 

Shakira gyrates in place

Shakira brought her The Sun Comes Out tour to a full house in Oakland Friday night and while it was an improvement over her last local appearance in 2006, the show was satisfying but not really exciting. Perhaps some of this was due to the singer coming out more than an hour and a half later than the start time of 8:00, leaving the crowd with little to do but mull around wondering if they had time to get another beer. When the lights finally went down, Shakira entered from the back of the arena singing "Pienso en Ti" from 1996's Pies Descalzos dressed in a hooded fuchsia ensemble, making the tiny Colombiana easy to follow as she made her way to the stage.

I'm ambivalent about this show. The Greek and I had a great time, the crowd was fun and laid back, the sound was decent, and Shakira held the audience in her hand once she finally showed up. But it was a just a show, not an event, and for some reason I have the notion in my head that a Shakira concert should be an event- like a Madonna show.  Musically, Shakira seems to have peaked with 2005's Fijacion Oral Vol. 1. The phenomenal success of "Hips Don't Lie" aside, nothing she's released since then has captured the unique vision abundantly on display in that album. Friday night's setlist had a number of weak tunes scattered through it, including the horrible Celine Dion-ish "Underneath Your Clothes," "Whenever, Wherever" and the lame closer "Waka Waka." An acoustic version of Metallica's "Nothing Else Matters" was interesting, but "Master of Puppets" or "Enter Sandman" would have been much more fun. Highlights from my seat were "La Tortura," "Ciega Sordomuda" and "Las de la Intuicion."

"Ojas Asi" and "Si Te Vas" were performed with energy by her topnotch band, but Shakira seems like she doesn't know how to keep these staples of her set fresh so they had a going-through-the-motions quality about them. Too bad, because they're great tunes. One of the biggest pop stars in the world seems like she's in a bit of a rut right now. She can probably keep doing tours like this and releasing fun but not great albums every couple of years and still keep her popularity, but the strength of her past work makes me want to see her deliver a more challenging and mature show at this stage of her career. Maybe it's too much to expect from a pop singer, but Shakira's the one who created the expectations and yet it seems like she's already peaked. Oh well- thank goodness Lady Gaga's coming back in a bit and Paulina Rubio will hopefully hit the road again in a couple of years after she has her baby.

The crowd went expectantly apeshit for "Hips Don't Lie."  Speaking of hips, Shakira looked great, blonde extensions aside.  At least some things remain the same. There are additional photos from the show you can view in the Beastly Pics.

Dust and Light, Scheherazade from Lines Ballet

Alonzo King's Lines Ballet have a huge hit on their hand with this pairing which has proven almost impossible to get a ticket for, but we prevailed and ended up with some decent tickets for tonight's performance. Hint: show up at 6 and be willing to buy high-priced seats from the woman manning the Donor/VIP table. After securing three tickets, Chad and I repaired to Samovar for tea and food whilst waiting for Penelope to take her leave from a political fundraiser. The view and ambiance were splendid, as was the tea and food, but I had to wonder about tea that costs the equivalent of a cocktail from a hotel bar. But I would go back.

The first part of the show was Dust and Light from 2008. The program states the stage is "filled with a dozen moons- or perhaps a dozen suns... immersing the audience in a luminous grace." At times yes, but while Meredith Webster and Keelan Whitmore danced and another dancer crawled across the stage in pitiable, crippled movements defying what the human body seemed capable of, my mind was reminded of the horror film "Martyrs" which believe me is that last thing one wants to associate with ballet and dance. Yet once lodged in my brain, the connection stuck, releasing itself only to return again.

Ricardo Zayas and Michael Montgomery paired to portray the shifting dynamics and support of couples in my favorite section of the twelve part piece, proving that love can be shown in many guises. Well done guys. Later, a menage a trios gave a devastating account of betrayal and its aftermath which was almost heartbreaking to watch. It's a fabulous work that was only undermined for me by my personal hatred of the sound of the harpsichord, which was inescapable in the Corelli-based score. Chad however, being a fan of the Baroque and attending his first balletic performance, was ensnared. All of the dancers were fantastic, moving their incredibly fit and well-showcased figures in ways I've never witnessed.

 After the intermission came what was for many the main draw, Scheherazade, featuring Rimsky-Korsakov's four movment scorere-imagined and performed mostly live by Zakir Hussain. Musically this was fantastic. Conceptually it didn't work that well for me, but that may be due to the soft-porn movie in my own mind this music creates which has proven remarkably durable over the past 20 years. Meredith Webster and Corey Scott-Gilbert had a fascinating pas de deux lasting maybe ten minutes as Scheherazade told the Sultan 1001 tales, exhausting herself, while other dancers enacted them. Then it all came to a rather abrupt end which left me thinking "that's it? But where's the climax?"

I guess that was it, because as Penelope pointed out, the dancers onstage had just worked their asses off for an hour and a half and had only grown larger and stronger with each passing movement and minute- it was a breathtaking display of physical virtuosity, even if in my own mind it left me wanting one more story with a less ambiguous, if not necessarily happy, ending.

There are three more performances, all sold out, but where there's a will there's a way.

A great singer, San Francisco's most obnoxious bartender, and very good sushi

Soprano Leah Crocetto was the featured artist this evening at the Salon put on by San Francisco Performances at the Rex Hotel. On my way to the hotel I espied Axel Feldheim, and we were soon joined by the Opera Tattler and seated in the third row of the low-ceilinged, acoustically challenging anteroom with marvelous portraits of writers surrounding us and a sizable, eager crowd.

Crocetto entered the room with her accompanist on piano (and good friend) Tamara Sanikidze, warmly greeted us, and let us know she intended to sing her favorite songs for us, which included arias by Floyd, Rachmaninov, Strauss, Puccini. Of these, I enjoyed the Strauss (beautifully played by Sanikidze) and the Rachmaninov works the most. There was also a gorgeous composition by a member of Chanticleer, who was present in the audience but whose name and title I didn't catch (if you have this information please comment- though I'm sure Axel and the OT, who were taking notes, will have that information in their posts- I didn't want to take notes because I thought the idea of the three of us seated up front taking notes would be too much in such close quarters).

Crocetto charmingly related the influence her father's eclectic musical taste left on her, leaving the arias behind to make the second half of the performance all about jazz. Martin and Blane's "The Boy Next Door," Arlen and Gershwin's "The Man that Got Away," "Fly Me to the Moon," The Girl in 14G," and other tunes from the American songbook really displayed range in Crocetto's voice. No one will likely agree with me, but I preferred her jazz voice- it seems like her natural idiom and as a self pronounced "musical-theater geek" Crocetto interprets these songs with greater emotional investment that the operatic material. The fact that she can do both well is a strong testament to her talent.

Afterward there was a brief Q & A, where she was complimented profusely and Sanikidze told some endearing anecdotes. One gentleman made quite the hyperbolic statement who apparently has never heard Sondra Radvanovsky sing Verdi before. Afterwards, the OT introduced me to her and I said I hoped to hear her at Martuni's one Sunday evening, which she indicated may happen one day.

Penelope then joined us and we retreated to the bar, where the worst bartender in the world holds court. Really, what is wrong with the management of the Rex that this woman still has a job? This is the second time in a month I've encountered the exact same terrible attitude and poor service from this bartender, who without a single soul seated at the bar, requested we come over to her to order our drinks. When I went up with our order, there was a lone man blathering on about something. No eye contact, no acknowledgement of my presence nothing. Eventually I asked her to let me know when she was ready and sat back down at the table, which was maybe six feet from the bar. Finally, she was ready. But I had to give her the simple order twice.

When Axel and I walked in I saw her and said to him, "Oh, she's still here- the worst bartender in the City." Initially he thought my statement to be hyperbole on my part but he soon agreed this was really ridiculous service, as did everyone at the table, who found the humor in it, but since this was my second go round I was just annoyed. Even though we were seated very close to the bar she asked us for a credit card before serving our drinks (she did this last time too), in effect giving us the impression we were going to do what? Run out on our $30 tab? This all would have been fine and understandable had the place been busy, but there were less than a dozen people there. We only had one round, and the only reason I would ever order another drink in this place would be for the convenience of doing so before or after a show there, and only with reluctance. Which is too bad, because it's a nice room with a warm, inviting ambiance- but there are plenty of bars like that downtown staffed by people who understand the service industry.

Axel related his experience over the weekend attending the 1000 minute performance of Longplayer, which I was sorry to miss after hearing about it and I explained the illogical motivation behind my recent rant at San Francisco Opera (now removed) which the OT explained to me was probably not the best use of my time for myriad reasons.

After our beverages we went to have sushi over at Sakana on Post at Taylor. The food and service were excellent. Try the mackerel selections, which come from Japan. They also have very good sea urchin- normally a dish I'm not too fond of. Their kitchen is open until at least 11:30 every night and it's much cheaper and quieter than the nearby Ryoko's- we all found it a good place to dine and converse.

Il Postino- specially delivered

Last Saturday night I caught the final performance of Il Postino at LA Opera. I was initially loathe to even think about seeing this- another opera based on a film for which I had little fondness. It seems that almost every new opera opera commissioned by American houses is based on a movie, even if the movie has a literary origin, it seems the opera is pitched to the audience that admired the film. However, when the reviews came out and everyone was singing the praises of Daniel Catán's score and the singers I wanted to see for myself if it was that good.

As it turns out, I think it's even better than most of the reviews I read about it claimed. Perhaps that's one of the benefits of seeing the last performance instead of the first- at the end of a run everything is in place, just clicking, and the cast last night had an easy air about it, as if they were sending off something the were all proud to have been a part of and wanted to make this last one the best.

Placido Domingo's 134th role as the Chilean poet Pablo Neruda is the big draw here, but the night really belongs to Charles Castronovo- and Domingo was very gracious to make his curtain calls at the end in hand-in-hand with Castronovo. While everything about this opera works- it's these two who are its heart and soul, along with some incredibly beautiful music.

I'll skip the story/plot- you probably already know it anyway, and just relate what worked so well on the stage, which was, for me at least, an unexpected delight. First of all from the primary to the minor roles, this was extremely well cast. Catán wrote the part of Neruda with Domingo in mind, so it's no surprise he inhabits this role to an extent that will make it a challenge to whoever follows him in it. Domingo's voice isn't as large as it has been recently- here he sings at the same volume as everyone else instead of seemingly effortlessly soaring over them, and I couldn't tell whether Domingo was doing this intentionally or if this was just the inevitable signs of a man his age, but there was no apparent attempt on his part to ever be more than part of a tight ensemble that had a story to tell. Not an easy feat when you're probably aware that all eyes are on you whenever you're onstage.

Castronovo is brilliant. As his character develops and grows in spirit and confidence, so does his voice. During the final duet performed by the two tenors, Castronovo's Mario has grown to where he shares the stage with Domingo as an equal- as a character and a tenor. It was one of the most moving moments I've witnessed in an opera.

Christina Gallardo-Domás' turn as Neruda's wife Matilde was perfect. The physical chemistry between her and Domingo was wholly believable, and when she exclaims late in the opera that their time on the island of Cala di Sotto was reinvigorating to their love and happiness it's easy to believe. It's not a large role, but it is a significant one, and Gallardo-Domás leaves an indelible impression.

Amanda Squitieri's Beatrice Russo was another revelation. It's easy to see why Mario falls in love with this beguiling woman. I'd like to see her and Guillardo-Domás as Mimi and Musetta. And Castronovo would be a great Rodolfo.

The rest of the cast was fine as well, but everything about this production was done at the finest level. A brilliant, beautiful yet simple set. Gorgeous use of imagery, perfect costumes and Grant Gershon led the LAO orchestra through the graceful score with clarity and richness. I've read a lot of commentary comparing the score to Puccini, but I hear his influence primarily in the vocal writing. The music reminded me more of Strauss, and oddly enough, Janacek in Cunning Little Vixen mode (one of the most joyous scores ever composed). Beautiful.

Happy Hour

Yoga on the labyrinth inside of Grace Catherdral.

With live music and caring, gentle assistants to top it off.

Paula Superti: 1962- 2010

Paula.

The second Sullivan to leave us this year. An incredibly vivacious, charming woman. She was smart, opinionated, funny and unique- as are all the members of this special clan, to which I am honored to be close.

I cannot believe she too, has left us.

Anatole, Amy and Peter, I haven't the words. I wish I did.


Well I picked a rose and it poked through my clothes
I followed that winding stream
I heard the deafening noise, I felt transient joys
I know they are not what they seem...

Bob Dylan

Another tribute to Paula can be found here.

SFO's Madama Butterfly - a DOA Disaster

Chad Newsome is now a bonafide opera aficionado. As the lights came up for the intermission of tonight's opening of SF Opera's Madama Butterfly he looked at me before I said a word (I was trying to not be a bad influence for once and was holding back my opinion and as well as my nose) and said "Should we just leave?"

I replied, "But I've already recently left a performance at intermission (Scapin) and I can't in good conscience write my post about this if we leave- there are two more acts to go." So we stayed and suffered through what has to be one of the worst operatic experiences in recent memory. How bad was it? Ten minutes in I was trying to recall the word Alex Ross used for his New Yorker review of last year's Tosca at the Met. Then it came to me- FIASCO. I thought that to be a bit much to describe what we just witnessed, but DISASTER would be a fair word to use without resorting to hyperbole. This mess ranks with the Macbeth of 2007, the Joan of Arc of 2006, the Otello of 2002 and the 1999's Tristan and Isolde for being the worst thing I've seen and heard on the stage of the War Memorial Opera House. I'm not even sure where to begin this catalogue of crimes against Puccini and the people who paid good money to see one his best works.

Obviously there were a lot of people attending an opera tonight for the first or second time- how else to account for the standing ovation it received at the end? It must have been because people could finally stand up after a dreadfully long second act and figured they just couldn't stand there and not applaud- how would that look to the person in the next box?. Perhaps it's just the shallowness of the Tuesday night audience, aka known as "Society.". [Note: Lisa has correctly reminded me it's always done in the two act version here in SF- it's just never felt so long before- so I have altered and removed some comments regarding the length of Act II-  which does make the ovation even more puzzling! - JM].

Conductor Nicola Luisotti, supposedly an expert in this repertoire, led an uneven, flaccid orchestra that seemed immune or blind to his flurried arm movements during a failed attempt to pump some life into this horse that hit the stage dead on arrival. Entire sections of the score were barely heard, tempos were as weak and uneven as the arguments of a  Meg Whitman campaign ad, only to be made up by ridiculous excesses in volume by the percussion section as if to say "if we play it loud they'll think we mean it!" After arriving in San Francisco Luisotti took awhile to impress me, finally doing so in last season's Salome and the summer's Fanciulla, but after this I'm afraid we are back to square one and all your best efforts are now undone maestro.

I'm sure Svetla Vassileva has had triumphs in other roles, but Butterfly is not going to be one them, at least judging by tonight's example. Off-key, screechy and often looking lost, from the moment she opened her mouth the evening appeared doomed. Even "Un Bel Di," one of the most famous arias ever written, barely made an impression and garnered no applause, no doubt aided in this massacre by a complete absence of control and rhythm by the orchestra. It came from nowhere and disappeared into a void.

Stefano Secco's Pinkerton not only could barely be heard for most of the evening, but it's hard to believe he's Italian. His minimal stage presence, coupled with an ill-defined conception of the role, led to the most milquetoast Pinkerton I've ever seen.

Daveda Karanas' Suzuki made me wonder what Catherine Cook is so busy doing that we couldn't bring her back. I know she lives around her- I've seen her having breakfast at Stacks. Need I say more?

Even the always reliable and usually easy on the ears Quinn Kelsey had a difficult go of it as Sharpless.

Thomas Glenn's Goro was just a casting mistake. Glenn is a fine young singer who has delivered some memorable performances from that stage but not tonight. Not likely to be fixed by the next performance either.

Austin Knees was the only one onstage who fared well as Prince Yamadori, which is the opera's most forgettable role. Where does the pain end?

Certainly not with the set, which finally replaced the one SFO has been using since the Ford administration. Looking like a pimped-out version of Trader Sam's done Japanese style, it offered nothing new that was an improvement over the raggedy one that's been retired, though I did like the ninja stagehands who came out to move the thing in circles which proved to be nothing more than busywork to make it look like something was actually happening onstage when in fact there wasn't.

And what of the boats? Really- what was that nonsense all about? Do you remember at the end of the brilliant Katya Kabanova a few year back that Hazmat team that came onstage at the end and disrupted what until that point had been something close to perfection? Well, this Butterfly never came close to that Katya on any level, but those damn stagehands walking around with the boats made about as much sense as that Hazmat crew.

Jose Maria Condemi, Clarke Dunham and Harold Prince- please, don't come around here no more. You have no interesting ideas, nothing to say, and just sucked away three hours of my life with one of the most banal, unimaginative productions I've ever had to endure.

And for all you biddies seated in rows R through T, right side orchestra, near the far right aisle, shut the fuck up, would you please?

A complete failure- trade in your tickets folks. Don't say you weren't warned.

A side note to Heidi Melton- you looked really hot tonight.

Esperanza Spalding: Chamber Music Society, Alive and Amazing

On Sunday night more than 2000 people showed up at Davies Symphony Hall and got to witness something that is going to be hard to describe without resorting to hyperbole. So fuck it. Esperanza Spalding was phenomenal.

Performing her most recent record Chamber Music Society in it's entirety, Spalding and her accomplices took what was already an impressive album and turned it into a masterpiece. I seriously hope the shows on this tour are being recorded. Accompanied by a string trio comprised of Sara Caswell on violin, Lois Martin on viola and Jody Redhage on cello, Spalding's bass made it a quartet of a different kind. Playing in tandem with the very talented Leo Genovese on piano and the fantastic Terri Lyne Carrington on the drums, this was essentially two completely different kinds of bands creating music together at the same time - a glorious blending of jazz and chamber ensembles woven together so seamlessly it comes across as a natural evolution without a trace of novelty.

Both configurations-quartet and trio, are anchored by Spalding on bass. She's a musician with long experience in classical music and is a natural jazz player. On top of that, scatting and singing effortlessly in three different languages, Spalding is one of the finest vocalists I've ever heard. Also accompanying the group was backing vocalist Leala Cyr who was very impressive in her own right.


After a theatrical entrance, Spalding and crew slid into what became "Little Fly," Chamber Music Society's opening track. This beguiling song, the lyrics of which are a poem by William Blake, features Spalding in a plaintive yet whimsical vocal mood, playing descending, bluesy notes on her bass while Caswell follows behind her with a sad melody on the violin. They stretched it out into something much deeper and more beautiful than the version on the album.

And then they kept going through the tracks, expanding melodies, stretching out interludes into twisting spirals of sound that became simply rapturous when Spalding added her soaring vocals to the mix. I know it's hyperbolic- but they were that good. "Wild is the Wind" was turned into a tour de force. I had to wonder if they hit this level regularly or were we witnessing one of those all too rare performances when musicians take it unwittingly to another level and don't even realize it until it's there- right in front, surrounding them. Out of the hundreds of concerts I've seen, perhaps thousands, I've only seen that happen perhaps a dozen times- when a a gig crosses from a performance over an invisible line into something special- almost mystical, which you can only see as its happening, but more importantly you feel it. This show felt like that and yet it seemed so effortless I suspect there is something genuinely unique about this band, and its incredibly special leader, that allows them to hit this level regularly.

That's really all you need to know. This was their last U.S. gig before they take off for a European tour. They'll return to the U.S. in December and will perform through March across the country. Check out their website and get yourself a ticket. Do not miss them. With almost three months to go before the year ends and lot of things to see and hear before then, I suspect I may have already seen and heard the best musical performance I'm going to this year. With this show Spalding catapulted herself into a small group of performers whose concerts I'd really hate to miss. Her company? If you really want to know, Martha Argerich, Leila Josefowicz, Patti Smith, Prince, Rickie Lee Jones, AllenToussaint, Joyce DiDonato and Karitta Mattila are on that short list.

SFJazz, who put on the show, is only two weeks into their fall festival and they have some fanstastic artists lined up for 30 some-odd shows over the next few weeks, but I have to ask them- can you top this?

Yeah. Phenomenal. And she's only 25- this is going to be a fascinating musical career to watch.

BluePrint: Riding the Elevator Into the Sky

BluePrint is a new music project of the San Francisco Conservatory of Music under the artistic direction of Nicole Paiement which began its ninth season Saturday night. When I was invited, I misunderstood what the program was about, thinking it was going to be a kind of preview for Ensemble Parallele's upcoming production of Phillip Glass' Orphée, which Paiement will conduct two performances of at the end of February and features Marnie Breckenridge, who was on Saturday's program. All of this would have been reason enough to attend, so imagine my pleasure two hours later after hearing a wonderful program of unexpected delights.

The first work was the West Coast premier of Laura Schwendinger's Chiaroscurro Azzuro- a concerto for violin and chamber orchestra. On hearing a work for the first time I often play this game in my head of "who or what does this sound like?" During this piece, which sounds firmly contemporary, I had Shostakovich recurring to my mind- for some reason. Perhaps it was the jagged rhythms in the score which would reach points of agitation only to subside into a somber mood. Violinist Wei He certainly did well with the score's demands of constantly shifting landscapes and tempos. The last movement seemed to recapitulate the first before deconstructing it in a glorious finish. I'd certainly like to hear this piece again. I'd also like someone to see to it that tuba player Bradley Evans is given a pair of socks.

After an intermission, pianist Keisuke Nakagoshi performed four selections from Phillip Glass's Orphée Suite- Orphée's Bedroom, Journey to the Underworld, Orphée and the Princess, and Orphée's Bedroom, Reprise. The arrangement for piano was by Paul Barnes who did a masterful job of making Glass into a Romantic. Actually, the lion's share of the credit should go to Nakagoshi, who played these gorgeous pieces exquisitely. The four movements took the listener from the upper world at 6:00 PM in the first segment, signified by 6 Fs, where Death is watching Orphée sleep with his wife. From there Nakgoshi led the descent to the underworld and back again, with another 6 Fs at the end of the reprise, bring us back to where we began.


The last part of the program was Sexton Songs by David Conte. These five songs are set to texts by Anne Sexton and sung by Marnie Breckenridge, accompanied by chamber orchestra. Paiement announced beforehand Breckenridge had strep throat and was due to record the next day so could we bear that in mind and be indulgent for the unfortunately afflicted singer. Really? Then I'd especially like to hear Breckenridge again when she's feeling well, because she sang beautifully with no signs of illness nor strain, though the Opera Tattler, whom I was sitting next to, heard it slightly differently. Conte's songs took Sexton's sad and anguished words and set them perfectly to music underscoring the depth of Sexton's poetry while leaving their own significant imprint.

SF Mike has his own positive take on the concert, complete with some great photos of the particpants here.

Afterward at a small reception Paiement offered a toast to Scwhendinger and Conte, saying how great it was to perform contemporary works destined to enter the canon. Usually I find these kinds of comments to be little more than hyperbolic platitudes for the assembled but in this case I thought these works could actually achieve that.

There were many seats available, so next time don't miss out on the November 20th performances of Every Good Boy Deserves Favour-  a collaboration with American Conservatory Theater, with the music of Yanov-Yanovski. Check the website for details and click here for the calendar of numerous musical events regularly taking place at the easily accessible Conservatory, many of which are free.

The new Met/Lepage Das Rheingold

Yesterday I attended my first Met Live in HD broadcast because I just had to see what the new "Das Rheingold" looked like. It doesn't disappoint. On the other hand, while this production establishes a new level of stagecraft for the opera world, the other elements involved are pretty traditional. The Met and Lepage are trying to have it both ways- satisfy the codgers who want horned helmets and those who are aware it's 2010- and I think they've succeeded in coming up with a production that should satisfy both, though probably won't leave the latter group ecstatic.

The broadcast began with some behind the scenes footage of the Rheinmaidens being introduced to "the Machine" and learning how to perform upon it in harnesses. During this sequence, the expression on Lisette Oropesa's face is the definition of apprehension while Tamara Mumford looks really excited. The pay off is when the Rheinmaidens make their entrance and you see how much hard work went into their efforts and it paid off so handsomely. I can only imagine that these Rheinmaidens were what Wagner was envisioning. Mermaids, swimming in water, bubbles billowing behind them, it's a beautiful scene. Mumford, Oropesa and Jennifer Johnson are excellent and Lepage does some choreography here that really makes the scene work incredibly well- it just flows.

Eric Owens' Alberich- dreadlocked and sporting a codpiece that looks stolen from a Mad Max sequel, plays his initial attempts to have his way with one of the Rheinmaidens in the manner we've come to expect except for one key component in his characterization that eventually profoundly impacts the entire production. Owens' Alberich may be a dwarf, but he's not the lecherous, petty, grubby Nibelung usually found in this role. This Alberich is smart, angry and determined. He's also the most fully-realized character onstage in this production. When he steals the gold, it's with a sense of coming retribution. This is a star turn for Owens, who easily makes the largest impact in this superbly cast production with his fantastic singing and indelible stage presence. And to think David Gockley over at San Francisco Opera decided to cast Owens as Ramfis instead of Amonasro in that company's upcoming Aida. Boob-of-month award winner-Gockley wins again!

As Scene 1 ends, the Rheinmaidens forlornly lie on the bottom of the Rhine in a beautiful tableau, complete with shifting sands beneath them. It's scenes like this which make the production such a visual success. The transition scenes are where Lapage's Machine has the most impact (at least until the spectacular ending). As the planks rise they create a visual where the audience feels like it too is rising from the river, leaving the Rheinmaidens in the river below. The thing about the Machine is it takes the audience with it into every scene in an uncanny way.

There are a couple of problems with this production and they become apparent pretty quickly in Scene 2. Bryn Terfel's Wotan is sung with strong technique but his character conveys no authority at all. His Wotan is a thug, not a god and with his long greasy hair covering his missing eye and gold breastplate covering his gut he looks like a Comic-Con attendee in line to get the most recent edition of Thor autographed. Even worse, Stephanie Blythe's superbly sung Fricka comes across as Wotan's mother, not his wife. Looking at the costumes, you can't reconcile these two are appearing in the same opera, much less that they are supposed to be husband and wife.

This is a lesser problem with Donner and Froh because in the second scene they have little to do, not an issue at all with Freia, and the giants Fasolt and Fafner are positioned on the machine to create a formidable presence though their physiques are not enhanced beyond parts of a fat suit being placed on them here and there.

Richard Croft's Loge however, is serious problem. He looks like Liberace in a straitjacket. One of the most effective and rewarding choices Achim Freyer made for his Ring cycle at LA Opera was making Loge the center of Rheingold and it worked brilliantly. Of course that was Freyer's choice and it's just fine to make Wotan the center as usual, but it really only works well if Wotan is authoritative and Loge is the instrument to carry out his machinations- here, what should be the most scheming character onstage is little more that just a toady who somehow wandered into Valhalla via a Vegas psyche ward.

Franz-Josef Selig's Fasolt is superbly sung and performed. His isn't the usual dumb, love-struck giant, but a being whose obsession has the better of him. I don't think I've ever heard anyone sing or perform this role with as much intelligence as Selig brings to it. Hans-Peter Konig's Fafner is also well sung.

The transition to Scene 3's Nibelheim is another set-piece of stunningly well-executed stagecraft via the Machine as we actually watch Wotan and Loge descend down Alberich's lair. The anvils were gorgeous and what is usually handled as an awkward "hmm, how do we this moment?" became a central moment both visually and aurally.

This scene is always the most problematic in Rheingold because of the dragon/frog silliness and it wasn't done this time in a manner that's going to set a new standard for how to handle this awkward bit in a convincing way and save it from being unintended camp- which is how it always turns out. In this production that silliness if magnified because of Owens' Alberich- he simply isn't gullible enough to fall for this trap- and yet he must, because that's what Alberich does. Gerhard Siegel's Mime was superb. I certainly hope he'll be back in the role for Siegfried. His was another Nibelung who possessed an intelligence not typically portrayed in the role and his was a standout among the strong cast.

Going back to Valhalla's threshold for Scene 4, Owens delivers his best moments as he expresses his shame at being bound and shackled before his slaves. I haven't seen this discussed in anyone else's reviews or commentary, but I have to add my own thought that this scene has a heightened power and poignancy because Owens is black and Terfel looks like a redneck straight out of a horror movie. We've seen this scene in many other guises, but here, especially in the current political climate in this country, I can't get say there's no meta commentary to be found here if you want to look for it. Patrica Bardon's Erda, the most unthankful role in all of opera, was spot on from her first note through her last, though in HD the weird red/pink make-up around her eyes made me wonder why they wanted to make Erda a blonde Morticia Addams.

I found the only moment where James Levine's conducting let me down was the conclusion of Alberich's curse on whomever wears the ring- oddly, here the orchestra lacked enough power to make those terrifying bars sound as terrifying as they ought. Otherwise, I'd have to say Levine (who looked terrific) and the orchestra were fantastic from start to finish with Levine usually opting for faster tempos than he's chosen in the past which never sounded rushed, an bringing everything in Wagner's score to a shimmering glow through the entire afternoon.

Dwayne Croft's Donner was certainly a bit of luxury casting and having a mature singer of his caliber in this smaller role brought a depth to it not usually seen in Rheingold. He too, was superb, and if his hammer blow wasn't as thrilling a moment as one could have hoped from a dramatic point, he sung his part with a confidence and conviction the role never gets when filled by younger singers as is the usual.

By now everyone who cares about these things already knows that on opening night there was a glitch which prevented the Machine to work as planned, thus the gods' entry into Valhalla via the Rainbow Bridge was aborted or abandoned. It's hard to have any sympathy for the opening night crowd ,but in this case I actually do because they didn't get to experience what was in my mind the finest bit of stagecraft I've ever seen. Like the Rhine scene, I can't imagine Wagner himself thinking it could be done better than this. It was beautiful, breathtaking, and the most thrilling execution of the myriad challenges posed in adhering to the Ring's crazy stage demands. The final ten minutes alone was well worth the price of admission, but I found the entire production on the whole to be greatly satisfying, though not earth-shaking. It represents the cutting of what can be done on the opera stage, even if it doesn't have the intelligence or depth of the Freyer Ring nor the brilliant imagination on display in Lepage's own debut production for the Met, La Damnation de Faust.

One last comment. The schedule for the remaining broadcasts doesn't include a dud in the bunch. I was apprehensive about the whole idea of attending these screenings, but having now done so, the quality of the sound, the staggeringly brilliant camerawork and the immediacy of watching a live performance as it takes place make this method of presentation well worthwhile. I'll be seeing many more of these broadcasts this season.

Esperanza Spalding casts a spell

Tomorrow night, 10/10/10, SF Jazz is having one of its higher profile concerts of their fall season- Esperanza Spalding performing with Chamber Music Society at Davies Symphony Hall. Spalding created quite a stir when she appeared here last year, and some of the recent reviews I've read of her shows in preparation of this tour make it sound very enticing. Just on musical abilities alone Spalding is an intriguing figure- she's fabulous vocalist- with a range that at times reminds one of Astrud Gilberto and others of Flora Purim. Not that it's a Brazilian sound- Spalding was born and raised in Oregon, but is certainly has the loose fluidity found in those singers.


Espernze Spalding. Copyright Sandrine Lee and Montuno Producciones

Her voice is just half her arsenal. She's also a supremely gifted bassist. In fact she's a prodigy. Picking up the violin at age 4, within a year of teaching herself the instrument she was performing at age 5 with the Chamber Music Society of Oregon. At 15 she was their concertmaster. At age 16 she entered college, then crossed the country and enrolled in the Berklee School of Music. In 2005, at age 20 she was hired as an instructor after completing their program. That same year she was the 2005 recipient of the prestigious Boston Jazz Society scholarship for outstanding musicianship. She still only 25 years old.


Her latest album, Chamber Music Society, is a beguiling record that took me a couple of listenings to really grasp and the more I listen to it the more fascinated I am by it. Backed by drummer Terri Lyne Carrington and pianist Leo Genovese, the album also features the string trio of Entcho Todorov on violin, Lois Marlin on viola and David Eggar on cello. Starting off with "Little Fly" featuring the poetry of William Blake set to Spalding's contemporary, deliberated, slow jazz work-out, at first it's enigmatic. Next comes "Knowledge of Good and Evil" and here's where for me Spalding gets really fascinating. With the traditional jazz trio accompanied by the strings, she's creating a hybrid, that takes elements from classical and jazz and melds them together without any seams showing. When Spalding scats and then soars with an elevated soprano towards the end of the piece, while Marlin's viola saws away underneath her, she's crossed over into a territory that's all her own. From here on the album only grows stronger, richer and more varied. It turns and twists into places you don't see coming- especially in songs like "What a Friend," where the tempo shifts are constant but just seem right at every turn- and they turn a lot.

I have a strong feeling the show tomorrow night is going to be the same way. Last I heard there were still tickets available. Don't say I didn't tell you beforehand- this is likely going to be a highlight not only of SFJazz's fall festival, but it may likely be one of the Bay Area's most significant concerts of the year.

A Beast in a Jungle's 1st Anniversary- thank you!

This is the 300th post on A Beast in a Jungle and what a nice number to mark its one year anniversary under this name and this URL.

First of all, thank you so much to the people who've found this blog and keep reading it. I appreciate it and it's been a source of great pleasure for me to write.

A few of you know this blog was originally called "The Ambassador Roams High and Low"and had a different URL. After changing it (not by choice), I lost most of the readers I'd slowly built up over eight months The Ambassador was up. After A Beast's first month the visitor stats registered only 40% of what it had been for the last couple of months of the Ambassador. I suspect that traffic was driven largely through the kindness of other bloggers who agreed to update the links from the old blog to the new.

What a difference a year makes. The number of visits to this blog last month were greater than the entire visit count for the Ambassador's entire eight months. Lately I've been watching the visitor count grow every month and every month I think it will go back down but there hasn't been a dip since March and this month seems to be on track to eclipse the last, much to my surprise.

Again my thanks to the readers, the other blogs who have linked to this one and the cast of characters: The Minister's Rebellious Daughter, Chad Newsome, Maria Gostrey, both Swedes, GG, CC, General Chang, Penelope, the Greek, the Femme Fatale, Dr. Hank, Maggie the Cat, Madame Merle, Herr Feldheim, Patrick, the Opera Tattler and of course, the Little Chinese Man.

A pleasant evening stroll through the Tenderloin. Really!

I was escorting the Femme Fatale to Muni last night. It was warm out, there were a ton of people on the street enjoying the weather, and all of a sudden the Tenderloin seemed like an (almost) bright, shiny place. This was magnified tenfold when we got to the normally disgusting, bum and junkie-filled Hallidie Plaza and found a full-fledged salsa party underway with a great band and people dancing. It was a WTF moment in the best possible way. I don't know who is responsible for this but that "Thank You!" and please give us some more!

Walking back home after sending the FF back to her castle on the Hill, I checked out this opening at the scrappy, interesting Ever Gold Gallery, featuring the work of John Held Jr., who works in a variety of mediums and seems to have a thing for rubber stamps. A lot of 50's era styling younger women seem to have thing for Held Jr. (who must have a good 10 years on me), so it was an interesting mix of people floating about. The show has some interesting, very detailed works that are well worth spending some time investigating.

The Ever Gold's hours are seen above. The gallery is on O'Farrell between Jones and Taylor. Check it out- the people who run it are good neighbors and the space is a positive newer addition to the neighborhood.

Hardly Strictly Bluegrass 2010- Day 3

It is rather appalling I am writing this post on the 5th day after the event but what a week it's been friends. However, there is so much happening this weekend I knew I had to write it tonight or forget about it and there was so much fantastic music on display last Sunday in Golden Gate Park I would feel as if I was doing a grave disservice to the Beast if I left out the final day of HSB.

The scene in Friends and Family

Penelope and I arrived in time to catch the last 2/3 of Hazel Dickens' set. Hazel is still doing what she's always done and that's why she was one of the inspirations to launch this festival to begin with ten years ago. It's why she's performed every year and it's why you can't really say you went to HSB if you didn't see Hazel. Now some would argue that the same thing is true of Emmylou Harris' now-traditional closing set and I wouldn't argue against that point but I also wouldn't support it. Hazel's another story. A woman  who is the real deal that many people are only aware of because of her prominence at this festival and I'm glad she's still with us and I have a feeling she'll be returning as long as she wants to (and can). Long live Hazel!


Hazel Dickens

We stuck around after Hazel's set to check Earl Scruggs, one the preeminent banjo players in the world. Scruggs is as old as dirt (well, he's in his 80s) and while he doesn't say much anymore and let's the band do a lot of filling in, he can still play one mean banjo. Sitting on a chair expressionless for most of the set, when he finally turned his head and smiled wryly after a few numbers, the small gesture lit the stage up. Scruggs is backed by a crack band and they delivered an hour's worth of traditional bluegrass played a well as anyone could possibly hope for. I'd never caught him before and his set was a definite highlight of the weekend. Hellman sat in with them, playing the banjo "clawhammer style" while Scruggs kept on demonstrating the three-finger picking technique that's come to bear his name. In a word- fantastic.
 

Earl Scruggs

 Now came the hard part of the day, and the most difficult decision of who to go check out. Appearing at the same time across the park were Roseanne Cash, Elvis Costello, Dave Alvin and the Guilty Women, Randy Newman and Doc Watson doing a set with David Holt. Truly an embarrassment of riches and a ridiculous position to be in. However the main thing for me was that we make it all the way over to the other side of the festival in time to get a good seat for Patti Smith, who was going on the Tower stage at 4:00.

We decided to stick around and hear perhaps bluegrass' best guitar player, Doc Watson. It was a good choice. Everyone else we could have seen we could see again pretty easily. Doc Watson isn't that easy. Like Scruggs, it was pretty much another masterclass in how to play and perform American music at its highest level. Watson and Holt were marvelous and I can't ever recall being so impressed with someone picking an acoustic guitar that way.



David Holt (L), Doc Watson (C)

We left about halfway through the set to make it over to see Patti. When we got there we found a good spot at the front of Friends and Family and settled in. In a nice turn of events, Costello, who was playing at the Star stage which backs up to the Tower, was drawing a huge crowd and they were piping the set through the speakers of the Tower stage while that crowd waited for Patti. A twofer in a way, though I'm not a Costello fan. Some of his set did sound pretty good though, and The Sugarcanes sounded like a superb back-up band for him.

And then it was time for what was for me the most anticipated set of the weekend. News just broke through the crowd that Giants had won the pennant so there was a huge roar of delight and as it reached its apex Patti strode onstage and it was hard to tell where the joy of the Giants making clinching the West ended and the excitement an audience knowing they were about to see one the most compelling rock performers of any era began. She just waved,smiled and started singing.

Starting with "Dancing Barefoot," an irony since the Femme Fatale had just sent me the lyrics to that particular song to me the day before with a note saying "this song reminds me of your life," I had to smile. Smith was a little more chatty than the last couple of times she rolled into town, taking advantage of the huge crowd to make some pleas for peace, understanding and clemency for John Walker Lind, who she said was just searching- an American ideal. Her band, especially the fantastic Lenny Kaye, were in top form and also seemed invigorated by the size of the crowd. Among the highlights of the set were an especially dark version of the Stones' "Play With Fire" which really felt like a threat in her hands, "Pissing in a River,"  "In My Blakean Year," a rousing "People Have the Power" and the set's highlight- "Beneath the Southern Cross." This song erupted into an extended wall of metallic, thunderous sound at the end for about two minutes, becoming one of the most thrilling things I've ever seen and heard. When it was over Penelope, who had never seen Patti Smith before, turned to me with this look on her face, beaming, that said "WOW. What the fuck was that?!" It was incredible. But then again, you can expect that from Patti Smith and somehow she always delivers. If you have never seen her, please- you owe it to yourself- check her out the next time she comes through your town. No one else is quite like her.



Patti Smith

So what does one see after that? Emmylou Harris was set to close the whole thing down at the Banjo stage, or there was Mondo Cane, or there was Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings. We had to go see Sharon and the D.K.s because the set they did at the first Outside Lands in this very park two years ago was great and I think anything else would have been a huge comedown and it wasn't time to go home yet.



Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings

So we went over to the Rooster stage, where Nick Lowe was wrapping up a set for a large and enthusiastic audience. The last three songs sounded good, and then we waited. And waited, which was unusual because one the signs this gig is so well run is that many of the sets started early- that's how much the HSB people have it together- it runs like clockwork. The Dap Kings took the stage maybe 15 minutes late, and as expected, did a couple of warm-up numbers before Jones hit the stage. You know who else used to do it like this? The JBs- James Brown's band. Three tunes later, Jones hits the stage and you know what? Sharon Jones and the 10 member Dap Kings have taken what was already a formidable live show and upped it to 11. She's firmly doing a James Brown 60's era show, complete with the dancing, powerful, give-it-all-you've-got-and then-give-some-more singing,  tight, tight arrangements by the band, and music lifted straight from classic early funk and soul. Really the only thing missing is Bobby Ray and a cape. If the show hadn't been forced to end because the park had grown dark we may have gotten that too- and it would have totally fit. The crowd loved every minute of it and though she was working her ass off, Jones looked like she was loving every moment of it too. If we hadn't seen Smith, I would say Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings were the best band we saw at HSB this year. They killed it.



It was a fantastic weekend. Thank you, Penelope.