Not so Fast, certainly not Furious

Hot woman, even hotter car, going nowhere.

Lured by an inexplicably favorable review by Mick LaSalle in the SF Chronicle, I went down to my local theater to see my first Fast and Furious movie. I should have known better, because fifteen years ago I did the same thing with the execrable Buffalo 66. Thanks to LaSalle's unfathomable taste, I've now wasted a good four hours of my life and $20 I'll never get back that not even Michelle Rodriguez driving a Jensen Interceptor (my favorite car of all-time) can make up for. The movie isn't fun, fast, nor furious. It's just incredibly dumb, and not in the good way. Even the car sequences, which should be the one thing they get right, fail to excite and are CGI enhanced. Then there's the talented Dwayne Johnson, buffed to alarming, Hulking proportions, so grotesquely huge he's at least as big as Schwarzenegger was in Stay Hungry. Watching him made me queasy and fearful for his prospect of living a reasonably long life. Let's not even discuss the dialogue, plotting, or logic behind the action sequences as they are all ridiculous and poorly executed. Seriously- skip this clunker.

One last sour note

Sadly, the SFS musicians are still singing their song of woe that few people wanted to hear in the first place, even though the strike is over and they have ratified a contract. Sorry folks, but whoever is doing your PR for you is tone-deaf and off-pitch. Find a new voice, asap.

What on Earth do you think is to be gained from placing this post this in a public forum?

Talk about ending on a sour note, and with a complete lack of grace.

Not quite a draw, but at least it's over

The musicians of the San Francisco Symphony have ratified a new contract, so the looming spectre of another work stoppage, and all of its accompanying ugliness, is over. Here are some of the details, courtesy of the Symphony's Communications department:

The agreement also outlines a new process for sharing information among the musicians, Board of Governors, and administration on an ongoing basis to maintain trust, respect and understanding between the members of a sustainable arts organization.  The administration and musicians are committed to working with a third party on an ongoing basis to improve communication and seek a cooperative spirit to address future challenges and opportunities.  A shared commitment to grow audiences and serve our community includes broadening musicians’ involvement in fundraising, marketing and audience development activities.  

Negotiations for a new collective bargaining agreement began in September 2012. The previous agreement expired November 24, 2012 and was extended by mutual agreement to February 15, 2013.  A tentative agreement on a new contract was reached March 31, 2013 and has now been ratified and approved by the full Orchestra and Board of Governors.  Over the course of the 26 months of the agreement, musicians of the SF Symphony will receive a 4.5% increase in salary, with current minimum weekly compensation of $2,725 and increasing to $2,850 by the end of the contract.  

“The success of the San Francisco Symphony lies in the dynamic partnership among the musicians, Michael Tilson Thomas , the careful stewardship of the board, hard work of the staff, and the enthusiastic and consistent support of our community,” said Sakurako Fisher, President of the SF Symphony.  “This agreement represents a significant amount of collaboration and a recognition that only a shared vision and a true partnership will propel our outstanding 100-year-old orchestra toward an even greater future. We remain deeply gratified by our community’s exceptional commitment to our orchestra and to the arts.” 

“The musicians of the San Francisco Symphony recognize the important qualities of partnership and collaboration that defines all successful orchestras,” said violist David Gaudry, Chair of the musicians’ negotiating committee.  “Everything we do is for our audiences.  We love what we do, and we want to keep providing our listeners the highest level of musicianship, be active in growing our community, and ensure the long-term artistic vitality of our great orchestra.” 

“This new agreement recognizes the immense talents and dedication of our musicians and underscores our commitment to their well-being on every level,” said Brent Assink, SF Symphony Executive Director.  Their artistry shapes and enriches the cultural landscape of our community in meaningful and far-reaching ways.  I want to express my thanks to Dave Gaudry and the musicians’ negotiating team for their many long hours of collaboration on this new contract.  I would also like thank the Board Labor Relations Committee, the entire Board of Governors, and our hard working staff.  But most of all, I deeply appreciate the patience and ongoing support of our Bay Area community, touring partners, and fans around the country during the past few weeks. We all have a stake in the success of this institution and we look forward to strengthening our partnership to move the orchestra forward.”

#winning. 

From my inbox....

There hasn't been a lot of news on the Symphony strike in the past few days, though I know the story was featured on the NewsHour last night (I haven't had a chance to watch it yet). I'm not even sure if the sides are currently negotiating, though one would hope so. Some of the best comments I receive are via email rather than through the comments section. Here's one from a regular reader, a 30-year subscriber to the Symphony who requested I not print his name, who writes:

... As for the strike, I'm of 2 minds. Since I don't work there, I don't know what the working conditions and relations between the management and the players are, so I'll take the players at their word that it's about the money (as they originally stated, though the comments from Nicole Cash, the horn player, on your blog raised some interesting questions -- like performing on Christmas Eve -- that's just unacceptable).

As someone who runs a small nonprofit organization, but also just as a member of the public, it's hard to feel sympathy for players whose base salary is $140+ K and average/median is $20 K higher with other fees thrown in, and 10 weeks vacation on top of that. And David Herbert, with 16 weeks vacation and $210+ K year, sounds spoiled to claim he gets little support from management. I recall reading some years ago that he had set up a company to sell/distribute high end timpani sticks. So he has time for lots of other things. Additionally, the previous contract sounded quite generous with its 15+% increase over 3 years. So given the general state of the economy right now, they should consider themselves fortunate. And many have time to be on the faculty at the Conservatory, too, so their time can't be too loaded up with Symphony obligations.

And to need to be the highest-paid in the country is kind of ludicrous (not that they aren't an outstanding orchestra and the cost of living high here. But it's high in New York and in Boston, too).

On the other hand, if management is giving themselves bonuses and the players not receiving any increase (as the original offer apparently was, at least for the first year) that's not fair either. I'm also surprised to read how much MTT is paid in comparison to conductors at other orchestras. He's making out very well. Also surprising that the musicians' payroll is only 23% of the total budget. I would have thought it was higher. I did think that the complaint about the 100th Anniversary was a bit silly, though I'd be hard-pressed to tell you what was so special that it would have cost $11 million. But I'm not an events planner.

The big time lag between the expiration of the old contract and the start of negotiations is troubling. That seems to be a failure on the part of management. They should have been negotiating and proposing long before the contract expired -- which is what I think they did after the last strike.

Whether it's all worth going on strike over, I don't know, but I also don't know how else one makes it clear that the situation might not be fair.  I'm not a labor specialist. I'm not sure it was well thought out. I think it's causing a lot of ill-will right now that might be hard to fix, and that's an added cost that should have been considered. On the other hand, the regular audience might just be glad to have it all over with when/if it's settled and just move on.

One thought occurs to me: the Berlin Philharmonic and the London Symphony are both self-governing orchestras. Maybe it's time San Francisco explored that option. It would be an interesting experiment.

(Sittin' On) Our Butts by the Bay...

In New York, Peter Matthews offers a view of the SFS strike from an Empire State of mind, while the Musicians of the San Francisco Symphony finally got a little wiser and published a sympathetic letter by one of its more beloved and eloquent members, Associate Concertmaster Nadya Tichman on their Facebook page, asking Board President Sakurako Fisher for assistance to work this out. That's a big tactical improvement over what they've done so far, which has accomplished little more than alienating huge portions (though certainly not all) of their audience. SFS's Director of Communications Oliver Theil has posted a detailed update from the organization's side, including what they put on the table, here.

Other than that, there's not much news on the strike front. I'm wondering if Yuja still gets paid for the concerts, and how much in real dollars the cancelled East Coast tour will cost the company (the cost in prestige and goodwill is probably incalculable). Anyone know the answer?

Credible vs. credulous, or jumping the shark while holding an oboe

The most recent statement from Dave Gaudry, Chair of the Negotiating Committee representing the musicians of the San Francisco Symphony, issued today, brought out my inner schoolmarm (and it's a bad sign when Norman Lebrecht and I agree on something):

The Musicians have been negotiating in good faith with Symphony Management to try to reach a deal before the Carnegie Hall tour begins. At 4:30 Sunday morning the talks broke down [Why? What was the last offer made by both sides?].

Even though the Musicians believe that the Symphony is in excellent financial condition [and I believe in unicorns, though I’ve never seen one], they have attempted to address Management’s concerns more than half way [examples, please]. Unfortunately, opportunistically attempting to seize on the misfortunes of other Orchestras, SFS Management continues to insist that the Musicians accept draconian [you should really look up the definition of this word] cuts in compensation and benefits and concede work rule changes that would set back by decades [!!!!!! OMFG] the protections in the Musicians’ contract designed to ensure artistic excellence. They have attempted to justify this policy with talk of “operational deficits” which were largely the self- created results of outsized programming [???? Really- it’s not every day an orchestra turns 100] and spending an additional 11 million dollars last year on a Centennial Celebration, providing enormous bonuses [define “enormous”] and compensation to top executives and consultants [this is the first mention of these “consultants”- who are they and what instrument do they play?]  and directing resources away from the core mission of the Orchestra. Even with all the additional spending the SFS has experienced significant growth in the endowment, reported a 32 million dollar surplus to the IRS year [that 32 million won’t even cover the orchestra’s current compensation for 2 years- oh, and did that money come from increased ticket sales from all of that outsized programming, or was it raised by the administration? Or...? Just wondering.], and is projecting substantial growth in revenue this.

The Musicians’ concern over vacancies in key positions [what vacancies? in which positions?], defections of their most talented musicians to better paid orchestras [Herbert is one- name another, please] and Managements’ demands for erosion [erosion? erosion? Erosion occurs on coastlines, not in contracts ]of essential contract protections has them willing to stay out on strike until Management makes a fair contract offer – one fitting for an organization in solid financial condition and that will help to maintain the artistic quality of the orchestra that has taken so long to build [how many other people in the organization have participated in this effort- are you also going to bat for them?].

In the meantime, we continue to believe that Management, especially given the public money it receives [sorry, but that's a really low blow, people- you benefit from that money more than anyone else except the audience], needs to make public the Symphony’s finances.

Please, somebody help the musicians communicate better than this.

Everybody hurts

Photo credited to Lori Ann Grover

Reading through the 100+ comments on SFGate regarding the Symphony's strike and the resulting cancellation of their East Coast tour, I found more than a few of them to be dismayingly ignorant or foolish. The worst are from people who think

• the Symphony exists only for old, rich, White people (it doesn't- for example, I only claim one of those three descriptors)
• tickets are exorbitantly priced (the lowest price tickets are about the same as a ticket to an IMAX movie, and much lower than any professional sporting event except the Roller Derby)
• the musicians could be easily replaced (they can't- period, end of story).

However, it also seems, at least from the Chronicle's online audience, that a majority of public sentiment is not on the side of the musicians. This leads me to think one of two things are happening here- either management is totally out-maneuvering the musicians and their union in the PR wars, or the musicians and their union misplayed their hand and appear out of touch with contemporary reality as the audience experiences it. I think it's the latter, which makes the whole affair that much more regrettable.

Symphony cancels East Coast tour

A bad situation grows worse.

From Oliver Theil, SFS Director of Communications (the musicians issued their own statement as well):

The Musicians of the San Francisco Symphony have rejected a federal mediator’s proposal to resume playing concerts during a “cooling off” period while negotiations over the collective bargaining agreement continue. The Symphony’s administration was willing to abide by the federal mediator’s recommendation, based on developments over the past three days of talks.

As a result of the musicians’ continuing work stoppage, the orchestra’s three-city East Coast tour on March 20-23 will not go forward.  The tour was set to include performances at Carnegie Hall March 20 and 21, the New Jersey Performing Arts Center in Newark on March 22, and the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C. on March 23. The ongoing five-day musicians’ strike has already forced cancellations of four concerts in San Francisco.

Over the past three days of lengthy negotiations, overseen by a federal mediator, the musicians’ union rejected the latest administration proposals and continued their strike.

Several proposals by the administration have been rejected by the musicians’ union.  The most recent proposal offered increases in musician compensation to achieve a new annual minimum salary of $145,979 with annual increases of 1% and 2% for the latest two-year proposal.  Contractual benefits also included a $74,000 maximum annual pension, 10 weeks paid vacation, and full coverage health care plan options with no monthly premium contributions for musicians and their families for three of the four options.  Additional compensation for most active musicians also includes radio payments, over-scale, and seniority pay which raises the current average pay for SFS musicians to over $165,000.

“We are deeply disappointed that the musicians have continued to reject proposals for a new agreement and that the musicians will not proceed with our planned East Coast tour,” said Brent Assink, Executive Director of the San Francisco Symphony.  “We have negotiated in good faith since September, have shared volumes of financial information, and have offered many different proposals that we had hoped would lead to a new agreement by this time.  We will continue to work hard to resolve this situation.”

In the current economic environment, the San Francisco Symphony is facing the same challenges that many other orchestras and arts organizations around the country are facing.  For all four years of its most recent collective bargaining agreement with its musicians, operating expenses have outpaced operating income.  The Orchestra has incurred an operating deficit in each of those years.

As a non-profit organization, the Symphony’s financial statements are audited annually by an independent certified public accounting firm.  These statements and related tax filings are publicly available in accordance with the law.  Since negotiations began, the administration has been cooperative in sharing financial records and responded to the union’s requests for information in a timely manner.  Since September, that includes over 50 formal requests for which over 500 pages of documentation were provided.

The administration has also offered to cooperate with third party financial consultants designated by the musicians to review the audited financial statements.  In addition, the administration had offered the musicians the opportunity to have two members join the organization’s Audit Committee of the Board of Governors.

The administration remains willing to continue negotiations with the musicians’ union under the auspices of a federal mediator in an effort to achieve a mutually agreeable contract. The administration will continue to work with the musicians to respond to requests for information, including requests about the Symphony's finances.

Today's rejection of the administration’s latest proposal also represents the latest in a series of delays by the musicians’ union in working with the administration on an agreement.  While the administration provided its first proposal October 15, 2012 and offered six subsequent proposals, the musicians’ union did not formally respond to any administration proposal until mid-January 2013. The union did not formally respond to any of this information until just over 60 days ago, weeks after the November 24, 2013 expiration of the four-year contract.

Patrons with tickets to the performances in New York, New Jersey and Washington DC should contact their local box office for information on refunds.

Wait for the shake!

Who knew this guy was a principal with the San Francisco Symphony?

"De Monet! Say it... Mo - nay! Say it with me, Mo - nay!"

Here's the latest on the Symphony strike, from the Symphony's Press Dept.:

Due to the labor stoppage at the San Francisco Symphony, the concert scheduled for 8:00 p.m. on Friday, March 15 has been cancelled and will not be rescheduled.  Talks are moving forward after a 13-hour negotiation session that continued into the early morning hours, and more talks are scheduled for Friday. No further concert cancellations have been announced at this time. 

Patrons with tickets to the March 15 concert may exchange them for an upcoming concert, donate their tickets, or receive a refund.  Patrons can obtain information on concerts, ticket exchanges and customer service by calling the Symphony Box Office at (415) 864-6000 (between 10 a.m. and 6 p.m. Monday through Friday, and from noon-6 p.m. on Saturday and Sunday) and on the Orchestra’s website at www.sfsymphony.org. 

An update for the Saturday, March 16 8:00 p.m. concert will be issued Saturday morning, and an update for the Sunday, March 17 2:00 p.m. concert will be issued by Saturday night, March 16. Ticket holders for these concerts with email addresses or phone numbers will receive direct notification from the Symphony. All news will also be posted at www.sfsymphony.org.

The Musicians Union of San Francisco, Local 6, American Federation of Musicians, representing musicians of the San Francisco Symphony, and the orchestra administration are working toward a new three-year contract.

You might want to pull that punch...

Over at Iron Tongue of Midnight, Lisa has posted an epistle by David Herbert (aka soon-to-be-ex-Principal-Timpani of the San Francisco Symphony). The striking musicians of the orchestra are circulating the letter in the hopes of bolstering their case against management. However, having read the letter and some of the material posted on a new site aimed at supporting the musicians (and presenting their side in the dispute), I'd like to offer one piece of completely unsolicited advice- the musicians, led by David Gaudry, Chair of the Musicians’ Negotiating Committee/violist/aspiring pugilist would do well to tone it down and keep it as professional as possible.

While most people intuitively side with labor in these kinds of disputes, especially labor as sympathetic as musicians or artists, attacking someone as obviously capable as Brent Assink just comes off as a stupid tactic in my book. Furthermore, if the endowment has increased 83% on the man's watch while almost every arts company in the world has cried endlessly over the disappearance of theirs, isn't that evidence the man is plainly doing something right?

What the musicians union fails to mention is that while the Symphony is doing well, especially compared to other institutions, that endowment is a key to the organization's continued success. The high number of tickets available at discounted prices over the past few seasons and the high number of empty seats at some performances bear witness that the organization is still feeling the effects of the recession and the collapse of the economy- a situation every arts organization continues to grapple with, and few are doing it as well as the SF Symphony under its current management. The arts will be the last area to feel the economic recovery, but were among the first casualties when things went south almost a dozen years ago. As great as the orchestra is, they aren't the sole source of its success. Conversely, did anyone blame the musicians for the failure of the orchestras that have collapsed in recent years? Bueller?

Bueller?

Strike!

Since no one else has it up, here is the press release regarding the strike by the San Francisco Symphony musicians:

SAN FRANCISCO SYMPHONY CONCERT SCHEDULED for 2:00 PM MARCH 14 CANCELLED DUE TO WORK STOPPAGE BY MUSICIANS SAN FRANCISCO, March 13, 2013 – Due to a work stoppage by the musicians of the San Francisco Symphony (SFS), the concert scheduled for 2:00 p.m. on Thursday, March 14 has been cancelled and will not be rescheduled.  Patrons can obtain up-to-the-minute information on concerts, ticket exchanges and customer service by calling the Symphony Box Office at (415) 864-6000 and on the Orchestra’s website at www.sfsymphony.org/press.  

The Musicians Union of San Francisco, Local 6, American Federation of Musicians, representing musicians of the San Francisco Symphony, have rejected proposals from the Orchestra administration for a new three-year contract that would have kept the musicians among the three highest paid orchestras in the country.  The administration notified the musicians that a revised proposal would be presented Thursday, March 14 but the musicians decided to strike rather than continue negotiations overseen by a federal mediator.

The latest administration proposal offered a minimum base yearly salary of $141,700 in the first year, with multi-year increases to $144,560 by the end of the proposed contract.  During the most recent four-year contract, the musicians’ base minimum pay increased by 17.3%, an average of 4.3% per year.  In addition to the minimum base salary, other musician compensation such as radio payments, over-scale, and seniority raises the current annual average pay for SFS musicians to over $165,000.

The administration’s most recent offer also maintained all current benefit payment levels including 10 weeks paid vacation, a maximum pension of $74,000 annually upon retirement, paid sick leave, and a full coverage health plan with no monthly contribution for individual musicians.   

“We are disappointed that the musicians have chosen to strike and deeply regret any inconvenience to our patrons,” said Brent Assink, Executive Director of the San Francisco Symphony.  “We will continue to work hard to develop a fair agreement that gives our talented musicians a contract that reflects our stature as one of the top orchestras in the country but also one that sets a prudent financial course for the future.”

Providing affordable health care options for musicians remains a key goal.   With the rising cost of health care, SFS administration proposed health care plan changes but still offered a health care plan option with no monthly contribution for individual musicians.  The latest proposal also maintained a maximum $74,000 annual pension for retiring musicians, with a slight increase in retirement age to draw full pensions.   

In the current economic environment, the San Francisco Symphony is facing the same challenges that other major American orchestras around the country are facing.  For all four years of its most recent collective bargaining agreement with its musicians, operating expenses have outpaced operating income.  While concert and related revenues have increased 2.4% compounded annually during the term of the four-year agreement, concert production expenses have increased 8.1% compounded annually.  The Orchestra has incurred an operating deficit in each of those years.

“Many of America's top orchestras are facing similar challenges with increased concert production, pension, and health care costs currently outpacing revenue growth.  We are developing a multi-year plan to achieve a balanced operating model, including identifying and growing new sources of revenue and at the same time reducing the growth rate of expenses,” said Assink.  

As a non-profit organization, the Symphony provides transparency about its finances in fully audited and publicly available documents in accordance with the law.  The administration responded to all of the union’s specific requests for information in a timely manner throughout the negotiations.  Since September, this has included over 50 formal requests for which were delivered over 500 pages of documentation.  

Patrons with tickets to the March 14 concert may exchange them for an upcoming concert, may donate their tickets, or receive a refund.  Patrons can obtain up-to-the-minute information on concerts, ticket exchanges and customer service by calling the Symphony Box Office at (415) 864-6000 and on the Orchestra’s website at www.sfsymphony.org/press.

I hope they resolve this soon. There is a press conference scheduled for 11 AM today.

Compliance

Dreama Walker in Compliance

Perception is a funny thing.

What would be your response if a stranger came up to you on the street and asked, "Would you want to watch a movie about a girl being sexually humiliated?"

What if someone you know intimately asked, "Do you want to watch a girl being sexually humiliated?"

And finally, would you willingly witness a girl being sexually humiliated? Now I'm asking you this question, directly.

Does your answer differ depending on how you perceive the question or who is asking the question?

Would your answer differ if the humiliation of the girl was used in a film, rationalized as a convenient vehicle through which other important or relevant questions about societal norms are raised?

If you answered "Yes," "Maybe," or "It depends" to the first or third question, or if your answer changes because it's "just a movie" then perhaps you may find justification for sitting through the entire length of Craig Zobel's film "Compliance."

I couldn't, and didn't.

Not because it disturbed me (I expected- even wanted it to be, disturbing), but because I didn't want to comply with what the director asks from the audience, which is essentially: "Watch this movie about a girl being sexually humiliated in the name of art." Or social commentary. Or even worse, entertainment.

I appreciate extreme cinema and admire filmmakers who are willing to push, even smash, the boundaries of what's considered acceptable. A Serbian Film, Irreversible, I Stand Alone, and Martyrs are examples of films that ask a lot of their viewers and take them to some really horrible places. I don't believe films like these are meant to be enjoyed so much as respected, discussed, and even admired (or in some cases, like Gaspar Noe's Enter the Void, simply endured). There's usually some level of artistic or social merit to be found even in the meanest exploitation, torture-porn or grind house film, however small or inconsequential, and let's admit that it's usually the latter. Even in films with no obvious artistic or social merit, there's still the undeniable entertainment value of a mean thriller like Se7en or a nasty scare like A Nightmare on Elm Street, even if it's not your cup of tea. It's unreasonable (or ignorant) to deny that cathartic pleasures and meta-commentary can be found in the Saw films, Catherine Breillat's oeuvre, or the highest-grossing torture-porn movie ever made, The Passion of the Christ. Just because you may not like it doesn't mean it isn't there.

However, there are some films without any of these qualities whatsoever. They can't be justified. They can't be rationalized. Like child pornography, they exist for no other reason other than there's a market for it. Once in awhile I get fooled into thinking a film is going to be something other than what it is. I sit down expecting to experience a thrill, or a scare, and I'm not opposed to feeling traumatized (A Serbian Film) or pummeled (Requiem for a Dream). Bring it on- I can take it. But instead of experiencing any of those reactions I'm sitting there watching the movie and slowly I start to feel like a sleazebag. Like I'm complicit in something really nasty. Complicit in creating a market for something that has no redeeming value whatsoever. That I'm actively participating in the most base human behavior possible by providing my tacit approval in agreeing to watch what is being portrayed onscreen. Only a handful of films have left me feeling this way, including The Girl Next Door (in my opinion the most reprehensible piece of trash ever filmed) and Hitchcock's masterpiece of misogyny, Frenzy.

Where's the line? I guess it's one of perception. Many consider A Serbian Film to cross the line of what's acceptable. Certainly what's portrayed in that film is vile and the fact that the audience is watching it onscreen feels beyond the pale while it's happening. But the fact that the characters in the film are caught in a web of circumstances controlled by forces greater than they can comprehend drives the film's narrative power, as it does in Martyrs. The characters are victims, to be sure, but they're not stupid, willing victims, and there's power in that kind of narrative, no matter how bleak or horrific the story or plot.

In Compliance the audience is forced to watch characters who are stupid do stupid things, and then do vile things because they're too stupid to know any better (at least in the hour I watched before bailing). During the screening I attended, someone in the audience yelled out "No one is that stupid!" and I'd have to agree. In fact, that's probably a mantra entire audiences will repeat silently to themsleves while watching the film, and perhaps the film's palpable tension comes from waiting for one of the characters, any character, to wise-up. My question is, what are you willing to watch while waiting for that moment to come, especially if there isn't the slightest inkling that it will? The sexual humiliation of a young, ignorant girl? I'm not. For me the tension was all about deciding if I wanted to continue to watch. Did I want to be complicit?

In the film, 19 year-old Becky (Dreama Walker) works the counter at a fast food restaurant managed by the harried, drab, middle-aged Sandra (Ann Dowd). Sandra gets a call from a man impersonating a police officer claiming Becky stole money from a customer's purse. He goes on to explain the police can't come over just yet because they are at Becky's house investigating her brother's drug operation, so until they get there, they need Sandra's assistance in confirming Becky has stolen the money and to detain her until they arrive. Following the cop's instructions, Sandra conducts a strip search of Becky, which yields nothing because Becky hasn't actually done anything. In fact it's obvious from the impersonator's first words his story makes little sense, but Sandra, too dim-witted and distracted to stop and question the implausibility of it all, keeps agreeing to the increasingly invasive and obviously illegal requests from the "officer" on the other end of the line. Unable to find the money Becky has stolen, Sandra summons Van, her fiance who has been drinking all night, to the restaurant to take over Becky's detainment and follow the cop's orders while she goes back to managing the restaurant on a busy Friday night. When the buzzed Van is asked by the cop to tell Becky to remove the apron she's using to cover her now naked body with he complies. And she complies, because the cop tells her it's either agree to this or spend the night in jail. The choice is hers. She chooses to comply, and keeps complying, even though every 19 year-old must know that one is innocent until proven guilty and everyone who has completed high school should have heard the phrase "unlawful search and seizure" at least once- even if only during a TV show. At the point where Van is asked by the "officer" to describe what Becky's nipples look like, and after he hesitates for only a moment before complying with this absurd request, we decided it was time to bail. How much more did we need to see? We weren't the only walk-outs, either.

Compliance claims to be "inspired by true events." That's a pretty disturbing notion when you stop to unpack that little bit of information. Whatever really happened in real-life to "inspire" this film was certainly sad, and the psychology of the people involved could be fascinating, but why use it as the basis of a dramatic film? That would take some real skill to pull off and Zobel's script doesn't have it. The real-life circumstances that exist underneath the film's story- the abuse of power, people's blind willingness to submit to authority, the mind-set of victims, the perils of inadequate management in corporations, and sexual abuse in the workplace could all make riveting subjects. But Compliance, despite whatever you read, isn't really about any of those things because the script lacks that one crucial moment when someone tries to the right thing and fails, thus making the conclusion inevitable, however disturbing. Had this been attempted by at least one character (in the first hour at least), I may have stuck around. But it's not there. Not one of the major characters ring true.

There is nothing to watch but one girl's humiliation- one step at a time and while I could watch a documentary about sexual victimization, I have no interest in seeing it dramatized for its own sake. From what I could tell that's all Compliance really offers the audience. For me, it wasn't worth sticking around another 30 minutes to see if I was wrong- I already felt slimed enough and I'm not sure that even if the moment came that far into the film it would have made any difference at that point. In fact I know it wouldn't have.

Sympathy for the Devil

Pleased to meet you...

Last week I wrote of the Oakland show Charlie and I attended and it's been on my mind sporadically since. I realized the Stones were in peak form that night as they began "Sympathy for the Devil." The intro sounded more tribal than I've ever heard it performed before, permeated with menace. It stands as my favorite experience of hearing them live. When I was a kid it was a cool-sounding song, but the lyrics were really a bit beyond my comprehension- they hinted at things I just hadn't experienced in life- and wouldn't for some time.

Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and taste...

My first visit to New York City was in 1992. On the Saturday night I was there I went to see Miss Saigon and during the intermission I met a woman with whom I dined after the show. We had a long, leisurely meal and conversed about theater, New York, and the perils of childhood celebrity. She told amusing and tawdry anecdotes about her youth and her peers, many of which were enormously entertaining.

Later that night after we parted, I went down to the Village in search of a piano bar and ended up at Arthur's tavern, which wasn't very crowded. Al Bundy was playing that night. The place had a horseshoe-shaped rail around the piano, and I was seated opposite Bundy. 


A short time later two men strode in, both impeccably dressed. One looked to be in his late 20's, perhaps early 30's, Latino, handsome and well-groomed. The other easily in his 50's, a faintly regal air about him, hawk-nosed, sharp eyes, an impressive head of hair. He wore the most gorgeous overcoat I had ever seen. I think it was black cashmere.

They sat down to my left and in a short time we were engaged in a convivial conversation. The younger man was Cuban, the older Bulgarian. They had previously met in Miami and were now on a first date weekend. Their names were Carlos and Augustin.

After another half hour or so, only a couple of other people had come into the bar and the three of us were pretty much the only lively patrons. Augustin, the Bulgarian, abruptly broke the thread and asked me if I'd like to accompany them to another club. I declined, saying this would be my last stop of the night. We chatted on a bit, and then he asked me again if I would like to join them. Again I declined, and the conversation carried forward. 

Augustin made one more attempt, this time adding they had a lovely car to ride around in. Carlos leaned over to me and assured me I would truly enjoy the car. It wasn't that I'm a car enthusiast so much as a growing curiosity about where this all might lead which led me to agree to join them. I'd never met anyone quite like these two.

"Drago! Warm up the car!" Augustin barked to no one I could see in his thick accent, which gave every word an extra syllable and consonant.

I hadn't noticed him before- he must have been behind a curtain or something- but suddenly this incredibly tall man who looked somewhat like Dolph Lundgren impersonating the Addams Family butler appeared before us wearing the whole ensemble- cap, long coat with epaulets and piping, gloves- it was ridiculously fantastic. He nodded at Augustin and without saying a word headed for the door. 

As Drago was outside warming up the car, we put on our coats. Carlos again assured me I would enjoy the car. He said it was a very special car.

Stepping outside, there it was, parked in the street, gleaming. I helplessly smiled, then laughed. There stood Drago in all his finery, holding open the rear door of an old Rolls Royce.

"This is the car?" I asked, not knowing what else to say.

"Yes," beamed Carlos.

"Do get in, please," said beckoned Augustin.

Carlos got in first, I followed, and the Rolls' owner behind me. We all sat in a row on the back seat, I was in the middle. It was my first time in a Rolls (and so far, my only time). It smelled like a leather bakery. Everything was immaculately polished. It looked like it had just come off a showroom floor.

"This is a 1955 Rolls Royce Silver Dawn and I only furnish it with things from the year 1955," Augustin said with relish as he opened the bar and spread his hand before the contents, "that includes the liquor and the music."

He took three crystal glasses from their designated place and laid them with precision on an inlaid tray. He suddenly seemed quite sober. Carlos leaned over to me and said, "Beautiful, isn't it? He picked me up from the airport in this. I couldn't believe it."

I couldn't believe it myself.

Some music started playing- I think it was Sarah Vaughan. Drago pulled away from the club and we starting cruising through the streets of the Village, chatting away. Augustin handed me a business card. It was the kind that folded, with lots of embossing on the front, which bore a crest and something in Cyrillic script, with the name of his eponymous foundation underneath in Roman. I opened it and read the addresses in Sofia, Paris, and New York and thought to myself who the hell is this guy?


My host suddenly faced forward and said languidly "Drago, take us to the Spike."

A look of brief alarm crossed over Carlos' eyes and the name of the place set off a bell in the back of my brain. Soon I noticed we were driving along the waterfront. Before I left for the City people had assured me New York was perfectly safe- "just stay away from the waterfront at night," everyone said, and now we were driving along it headed toward the Spike, which certainly didn't sound as cheery as Arthur's Tavern. I noticed the buildings and streets started to look deserted and empty. Then up ahead I saw a crowd on the street and a lone light bulb suspended above a dingy-looking place. We pulled up in front of a leather bar.


Augustin almost bounded out the door of the car when Drago opened the door for him, and he followed his driver to the rear of the car as he opened up the trunk. When Carlos and I got out Augustin was removing his overcoat, followed by the coat of his suit, and handed them to Drago, who placed them carefully in the trunk. Drago then lifted a fringed, black leather jacket from the trunk of the car and assisted Augustin in putting it on. He looked ridiculous, but his face bore a distinct look of satisfaction.


Carlos whispered in my ear, "This isn't my thing. Let's have one drink and then I'll get us a cab- I'm sorry about this- I'll give you a lift anywhere you need to go."


"Shall we, gentlemen?" our host asked, escorting us through the nasty-looking throng gathered in front of the bar's scuzzy entryway.


I won't describe the interior- it was too dark and grimy to be even amusing. A large percentage of the clientele looked either ill, desperate, or angry, in many instances a combination of all three in equal proportions. I noticed the bandannas right away.


We walked up to the bar, behind which stood a dead ringer for Mr. T.. Augustin immediately gave him an attitude, which was returned in spades. I thought there was going to be a fight, which would have easily been a massacre- Augustin was no match for this guy at all, but that didn't stop him from jerking his chain non-stop from moment he spoke to him, every word soaked in derision.


Carlos told Augustin he wanted to leave. 


"Just one drink!" Augustin protested.

Carlos moped, then ordered. "I can't stay here- I hate this scene," he said to me.

Feeling stuck, not really knowing what to do, and at a loss for something, anything to talk about, I asked Augustin what the bandannas meant.

And did I regret that. He gave me the entire rundown, illustrating what each color meant by singling out someone in the bar and then describing in great detail what he was seeking, announced by the color his of bandanna. He finally turned his attention to a thin, pale, very sick-looking young man, a boy really, who leaned up against a post while a bear attempted to maul him. Augustin then described in explicit detail, a certain glee underneath his sadistic leer, of what he was going to do to the young man. And that was really it for Carlos, who grabbed me by the arm and escorted me out into the night, straight into a cab, back to Midtown. Along the way he apologized profusely and asked if I was free the next day. I said I had plans, which was true, but even if I didn't, I would have said the same. As we said farewell to one another, he handed me his business card. Carlos was a doctor. I wished him well for the rest of the weekend.

Augustin, this one's for you. You are indeed a man of wealth and taste, with a penchant for fisting strangers. I still have your business card. Woo woo.

And if you've never seen it, here's the Altamont performance from the film Gimme Shelter, still unnerving all these years later:

And happy birthday, Mick.

On the Gelb debacle and in defense of the Met's Ring

For the record, while I found elements of the entire cycle lacking, with Die Walkure in particular to be woefully misunderstood by director Robert Lepage, on the whole I seem to be one of the few people bloggers who found much to enjoy in the Met's Ring, as it was presented in the HD broadcasts over the last year and a half. Was it perfect? Of course not. What Ring cycle has been? Even the Chereau centennial has its flat spots, though from the productions I've seen in the house and on DVD, his and the Freyer Ring come closest to being as good as it gets (so far). The Met's new cycle is certainly far superior than that crap Gergiev and the Maarinsky took on tour around the world.

Below are links to my original posts on the screenings.

Das Rheingold
Die Walkure
Siegfried
Gotterdammerung

Two things come to mind in revisiting them. The first being that when properly executed, a Ring Cycle should create excitement with each successive opera.  While the Met wasn't wholly successful in this regard because of Die Walkure, on the whole they pulled it off,  delivering the best Siegfried I've ever seen (yes, in no small part due to the rags to riches tale of Jay Hunter Morris in the lead role), which really set the stage for Gotterdammerung. When Gott ended, I felt that overall, the cycle did get better, and more cohesive, with each opera.

The second thing, which oddly nobody seems to care about, at least amid all the other noise being shouted about Gelb, Lepage, and the Machine, is that this Ring Cycle delivered some amazing vocal performances, including two that will no doubt be regarded as legendary in the annals of Wagner performances from the Met: Eric Owens' Alberich and Jay Hunter Morris' Siegfried. The performances of these two singers were game-changers for their individual careers and set a new standard for future interpretations. If that weren't enough (though it is) there was also Gerhard Siegel's Mime, Stephanie Blythe's Fricka, Hans-Peter Konig's Hagen and Hunding, Jonas Kaufmann's drooling Siegmund, Deborah Voigt's Brunnhilde, Bryn Terfel's Wanderer and a slew of exceptionally well-sung performances in smaller roles including those of Heidi Melton and Franz-Josef Selig. That's a lot of great singing.

And one more thing- Lepage's Ring, for all it flaws (and there are many) is better than Schenk's tired museum piece. It's biggest failure is that it took too few risks. In fact, take the Machine out of it, and it took none. The big question is, does that failure rest at Peter Gelb's feet? That's a fair question, but not an easy one.

Now, as far Gelb's behavior and the whole Opera News/WXQR/whining-about-the-press and-bloggers debacle goes, Gelb's response was a bizarre case of shooting one's own foot in public. It made him look thin-skinned,  and more importantly, like a weak, insecure manager, as did his earlier op-ed in the NY Times defending the Ring. A man in Gelb's position should remain as above the fray as possible, and if he couldn't resist the urge to strike back he should have handed the job to one of his minions. But he really should have just shut up and let the show speak for itself. Now he has people doubting his sanity and clamoring for his head. His decision to have Lepage direct the company's premiere of Messiaen's St. Francis, which should have been embraced by anyone familiar with the opera and has seen Lepage's brilliant production of Berlioz's La Damnation de Faust, has been met with scorn.  The Met's Board is now  faced with making a decision to now consider if he is fit to lead, which when everything else is taken into consideration, is a ridiculous situation because Gelb's tenure has so far been a success. As to why he decided to undermine himself in this potentially fatal way, who knows- maybe he can ask John Edwards for a referral to a good therapist who specializes in hubris and self-sabotage.

But who cares if Opera News reviews the performances at the Met? Opera News is the People magazine of the opera world- its lightweight, often banal coverage is part of the very reason bloggers exist in the first place. Who takes it seriously? Certainly not most of the people writing about what just happened. But this is America, and two things we do take seriously are censoring the press and abuses of power- and that's why this is a big deal. The whole episode now seems like its own opera, does it not?

If you're coming late to this story, NPR's Deceptive Cadence blog has a concise summary of the whole she-bang here. Also check out Anne Midgette, Brian and Lisa's blogs.

The Wall in San Francisco

No, I'm not at the Roger Waters concert tonight, but I can hear it quite clearly from my apartment over a mile away and right now "Run Like Hell" is thumping its way across a foggy San Francisco sky, probably because I live in a high-rise building with nothing really blocking the air between my windows on the eleventh floor and the stadium where the show is taking place.

I looked up the dates of the original concerts, performed by Pink Floyd of course, which I saw at the LA Sports Arena in 1980. Yes, thirty-two years ago. They were incredible shows- unlike anything else that had ever been done. I ended up going twice, partially because the mind-altering substance I took the first night caused me to disbelieve almost everything I saw, so I had to go back and confirm it. It didn't really help, because I ended taking more of the same stuff, but at least the second time I didn't think the Beatles were onstage when the wall came tumbling down.

I read on Wikipedia that David Gilmour and Nick Mason tried to talk Waters into taking the show on a more profitable tour of stadiums so they could recoup some of the cost and even make some money, but given the theme of the material- the distance and alienation between the performer and his audience, he felt it inappropriate. I guess he no longer does, and also doesn't mind charging astronomical prices that tens of thousands of fans are willing to fork over. Ah, money- it's a gas.

But this is what I don't get: out of all of the classic Pink Floyd albums, the one that doesn't stand up over time is "The Wall." In fact, more than thirty years later, I think it's self-indulgent and morbid to the point of being unlistenable except for perhaps four tracks, maybe five (all of which feature Gilmour prominently). And yet across town there are more than 30,000 people who paid hundreds of dollars to see and hear a replica of something that happened 32 years ago. Why? And why participate in something so obviously cynical? Do people really think "The Wall" is that good?

Welcome to the machine, suckers, and have a cigar. Do you remember when you were kids and you would scoff at people who went to Elvis impersonator shows or concerts featuring oldies acts? Well, surprise- you've just become the people you used to mock. You can thank Waters with your dollars for the privilege.

Now... up against the Wall!

With apologies to those who went and enjoyed it- Waters' cynicism brings out my own.

"The king's name is a tower of cash"

Over at Iron Tongue of Midnight Lisa Hirsch has been writing about the difficulties she's experienced ordering tickets from the San Francisco Symphony. I'm going to jump on her bandwagon and complain about a different local arts company and how ridiculous their ticket-purchasing set-up is to navigate and how they're totally gouging the public with "fees."

Yes, I'm talking about you, Shorenstein/ SHNSF. Your system stinks.

In trying to buy tickets to the upcoming run of Richard III featuring Kevin Spacey at the Curran next month, Isabella and I found two different sites selling two different sets of tickets at two different price points. All of which were incredibly expensive ($578 for an orchestra seat???). One can buy tickets from either the SHN site or the Curran site. The Curran site folds the fee into the ticket price, which still adds up to a pretty hefty fee even at the back of the balcony. The SHN site adds the fee to the already exorbitant price (orchestra- $400+ fees!). Not only that, but once you select your ticket on the SHN site good luck figuring out how to actually buy it.

The Curran is easier to navigate, but their prices top out at an unbelievable $578 per ticket (yes- I had to write this twice), with the cheapest seats going for $78.

Now I live within walking distance of the box offices for both the Curran and the Orpheum and we wanted to walk over to the box office and buy them there and save some money by avoiding these incredible online fees. We made three phone calls trying to find out the box office hours before we hit the right information- which is that there isn't any. Why?

Because the box office doesn't open until 09/30. There is no other way to buy tickets except online to a run which will likely be sold-out by then. So bend over theater-going public, and pony up at least an extra $30 a ticket in fees if you want to see some Shakespeare- and give yourself at least an hour to figure it all out.

So much for making attending the performing arts easier for the public.

Not all companies, indeed most, aren't this bad- I just find SHN to be a particularly horrible (and greedy?) example of this. Fie!

9/11 as opera- a bad idea, poorly done

"We said at the beginning, we were not going to write a '9/11' opera. We wanted to be true to who Rick [Rescorla] was throughout his life," librettist Donna Di Novelli claims in the program notes for the world premier of composer Christopher Theofanidis' Heart of a Soldier, now onstage at the War Memorial Opera House courtesy of San Francisco Opera's David Gockley and director Francesca Zambello. Perhaps that was the intent at the beginning, but the end is result is indeed a "9/11 opera" and a woefully inadequate one at that, though I don't really have any idea what would  be an adequate artistic response to that event.

Through press releases and various interviews, the public's been led to believe this opera is about the life of one man, Rick Rescorla, an undisputed hero who died while leading 2,700 Morgan Stanley employees to safety that morning; his autumn romance with Susan Greer, who would become his second wife; and his long friendship with his fellow soldier Dan Hill. It was based on a book of the same name written by James B. Stewart. Let me get one thing out of the way- I haven't read the book Heart of a Soldier, and I'm of the firm belief that like a film based on a book, to be considered successful a work must stand on its own apart from whatever it's based on, independent of the source material. Of course knowing the source helps immensely, and no doubt based on what I've read, the raw material for an opera about Rescorla exists, but it's not present here. The wrong people were hired to bring this to the stage.

The fallacy behind the claims of Heart of a Soldier not being about 9/11 begins with the extremely uncomfortable decision of San Francisco Opera to begin each performance with the National Anthem. What is the rationale behind this decision? What is this supposed to mean or represent to the audience? While the anthem sounds beautiful when sung by 3000 people in the house, it also feels horribly wrong. Is this part of the stage direction? Is the audience going to be requested to stand and rise for the "Star Spangled Banner" if the opera is performed at Covent Garden? Then why here? I presume this isn't being done at each performance of Turandot.Why this opera, if this is about a hero- and not about 9/11?

The entire opera clocks in at two hours and fifteen minutes, including a twenty minute intermission. That's a good half-hour shorter than a Transformers movie- and that's the biggest problem in Heart of Soldier- with the exception of one scene in the second act, it comes across as a series of  strung together sketches and vignettes, devoid of a story arc and any real character development, just a series of scenes from a life (or three), until we get to that September morning when everyone in the audience knows what's coming next. To make it what the creators claimed they wanted, the work would have had to have been nearly twice as long- and should have been.
There are perhaps four real arias in the entire opera- none of which are terribly moving nor memorable when removed from the context- you likely would never want to hear them again, nor would you likely remember the melodies, because there aren't any. The best one is sung by a symbolic character -one without any real relevance to the story. The libretto is dull in the first act and in the second, which features the romance between the Rescorlas, much of the libretto falls beneath the lamest dialogue found in Hollywood's romantic comedies- or a 3rd tier television show. It's dreadful stuff. Over and over again, each emotion, each important moment, is given two lines, and then it's on to the next part of the story- it's all exposition instead of development.

Repeatedly at the points in the story where the the audience should reasonably expect some true character development or dramatic tension to develop because this is all based on real people and real events, Theofanidis and Di Novello quickly move on to the next plot point in Rescorla's biography, shedding no light on who the man really was, nor what motivated him and Daniel Hill  (hell, I would have been happy with some interesting music, but that's nowhere to be found either).  Instead they've created what may well be the first Power Point opera- Rescorla's life is rendered as a series of bullet points, the geographic locations where it unfolds (England, Rhodesia, Vietnam, Fort Benning) are merely slides to put them on. Nothing sticks, nothing grows, yet all the while the audience knows where this is all headed. Why? Because it ends on the morning of 9/11- and there is nothing in the opera for two hours that stops us along the way, forcing us to consider why this story is going to end on this day. We just know that it does- because it is the 9/11 opera.

There is one scene in the opera that does work and works painfully well- because its the one point in the work that everyone in the audience is going to respond to in their own deeply personal way. It's unavoidable. When the chorus starts to sing about how beautifully blue the sky is on that September morning- and it was a remarkably blue sky that morning- we all know that- it's part of the horror, and knowing what's coming made me choke up. It's extremely effective and you know what? It's fucking manipulative. Nothing in the work itself merits that response.

We don't know these characters to care enough about them as they are presented here- the Rescorlas and Hill are meant to portray us- Americans (and those who want to be), that is, real people with our hopes, dreams, expectations, sense of duty, fears- but they don't because unlike in an opera (or film or novel) where we see ourselves in the characters- or people we'd like to imagine ourselves to be- those people aren't brought to life onstage in Heart of a Soldier- they're in a book, they exist (or existed) in real-life, but they are not on the stage. Avatars are on the stage. And yet because we are talking about an event so complicated to us still, even after what feels like an incredibly brief ten years, that response comes from the collective emotions forged from an event the audience understands through their own history, yet that's not what's being portrayed on the stage.

At the work's conclusion, there is one important, notable musical masterstroke in an otherwise largely unimpressive score- the opera ends on an ascending series of chords leading inexorably to a point where the listener anticipates resolution- and there is none. The music just stops.

Zambello's direction is distractingly cinematic in places, at others it just doesn't gel. In the first act characters appear on stage with no justification- Juliet appears in three of the first four scenes, but I can't tell you why. At the end of the Vietnam segment, there is a noticeable shift in Dan's character that is unexplained, left to the audience to perhaps infer the horrors of X-Ray has caused two men who were mirrors of one another to suddenly take different radically different approaches to how they handle the men they command. Links are missing everywhere. At a wedding in Dallas in 1972 the guests do a dance that looks like it belongs in a production of Eugene Onegin. The collected wives in the Dallas scene form a chorus whose lyrics are so banal it's almost painful.

The second act doesn't fare any better as we enter the last three years of Rescorla's life. Melody Moore makes a game effort to give Susan some depth but she's undermined by the libretto at every turn. Thomas Hampson's middle-aged Rescorla under Zambello's direction morphs from hero to sitcom character during their meeting and courtship- I suppose its meant to make them real to us, but their romance, described as the most improbable that could have happened to either of them at this point in their lives, is developed faster than a hook-up on Jersey Shore- and the saddest part is there's hardly any singing to take us along the path of these lovers- just lots of dialogue and a few lines sung here and there. And yet this romance is supposed to anchor the entire work? I'm not saying Susan has to drop her key in front of Rescorla while he's jogging and ask him to help her find it, or that he has to unwittingly drink a love potion, but this is an opera and if two people are going to fall in love like they never have before they deserve some music to accompany it- and so does the audience. Their duet starts off "Do you ever wish there wasn't so much before this?" I wished there was something either before or after to show why we should even care.

Shortly after that the happy Rescorla describes the woman of his life with this beautiful, descriptive phrase: "She's funny. She's warm." That's all we get. Sure, the man is a military guy, but he hasn't been shown thus far to be the quiet brooding type so couldn't we have more than this? It would be one thing if he'd been portrayed as complex and conflicted up to this point but that's not the case. The characters just have no development in an opera that seems more interested in getting us to the horrible ending than in making us care about the people we're following there.

An example of how this could have been so much better? There's a part where Rescorla admits he has a "filthy habit" of smoking cigars. Susan confesses she likes them too and Rescorla feels this seals it- she is indeed the perfect woman for him. What should have followed was a scene where they are smoking cigars together. It would have been sexy. It would have made them real to us. Instead the story just kept chugging along.

Another miss- when Dan is discussing Bin Laden, there is no difference discernible in the music. Not that the music had any leit motives that I noticed, but if the libretto is going to mention OBL why wouldn't the composer take that opportunity to make a musical statement within the context? Instead there's nothing.

Hampson's big moment- an aria which begins with the line "We fought side by side at Marathon..." was the only aria to garner any applause. I'm not sure I want any applause moments during a 9/11 opera, much less comedic ones that seem like they came from an old episode of Rhoda, but if there's going to be one, than give the audience one for each major character. Sadly- and freakishly, the most startling, beautiful vocal moment in the entire work comes from Mohannad Mchallah's call to prayer. It's more stylized than any other vocal part in the opera- and the most effective. And for some reason that exoticism annoys me greatly- both its presence, which comes from a poorly explained part of Hill's character development, and its emphasis, which is left completely unresolved within the story when Hill returns to New York as if he'd never really left, though as a Muslim he claims to be in much better physical shape than Rescorla is now.

The music during the evacuation adds no drama, and the sound of the towers being hit doesn't chill the listener like it should. It should, right? If you're going to render an event of this magnitude on the stage than do it and then create a catharsis for the audience after it. Of course that's impossible- which is why it would have been better to not attempt it in the first place- at least not like this.

Having said all that, William Burden's Hill was the vocal and acting highlight of the afternoon. Though they seemed engaged in their roles, I just felt badly watching Hampson and Moore sing this stuff. In smaller roles Michael Sumuel was extremely effective, as were Adler Fellows Nadine Sierra, Maya Lahyani, Susannah Biller and Sarah Gartland.

Delirium. Worst bar in San Francisco?

Isabella likes bourbon. I like bourbon. So we popped into Delirium before heading to a movie at the Roxie. The music playing was terrible and the frayed, sagging booth in the corner should have been replaced back when the joint was still called The Albion.

She ordered a Knob Creek neat, with a soda back. I ordered my usual- a perfect Knob Manhattan, up, with a twist. We received two sodas, and then I received my "Manhattan"-  a Knob Creek neat in a rocks glass with a twist in it.

Isabella noticed immediately that whatever was in the bottle of Knob Creek wasn't Knob Creek and said, "Taste this. It isn't Knob." I did and I agreed. In fact, I'd bet $100 it was Wild Turkey 101.

We went next door to Dalva, and got what we wanted. The bartender there was sympathetic, saying he had heard stories like ours before. We never did make it to the movie.

Back to the volcano

In 1983 Rickie Lee Jones released an EP called "Girl at Her Volcano" containing live tracks recorded at the Santa Monica Civic and studio cuts which didn't make it on to her first two studio albums. It had a certain notoriety for encapsulating the singer's altered state at the time of the live recordings, providing an unglossed version of what she was experiencing, or going through, and what her audiences saw at live shows, which were known to be erratic. It's hard to find nowadays, but well worth seeking out.

There simply was no other singer like Jones at the time, and there really hasn't been another one like her since, and to listen to her catalogue is to realize how profound her impact has been upon any woman who stood in front of a microphone in her wake.With the exception of Kate Bush, there really is no other female who has been a more influential vocalist on the pop or jazz scene since Holliday, Fitzgerald or Franklin in their primes. I don't care if you believe this or not, know this or not, it's just a fact.

Tonight, courtesy of SFJazz, residents of the Bay Area got to see Jones return to the volcano once more and witness a concert that was a different kind of melt-down for a performer who seemed poised to stage to triumphant comeback, though it had nothing to do with altered states.

The program featured her eponymous first album from 1979 and its follow-up, the masterpiece entitled Pirates (1981),  which many fans consider her finest moment (though I would cast my vote for the much maligned and misunderstood The Magazine as the apex of what has without doubt been a brilliant career), played in their entirety.

A few years back, I can't remember how many at the moment, Jones came to San Francisco and played five straight nights at the tiny Cafe Du Noord, each show featuring a different ensemble tackling songs from her entire catalogue. The first night sucked, to put it bluntly. If I hadn't already bought a ticket for the second, I doubt I would have gone back for more punishment, but in the end I was glad I did, and I ended up attending four of the five shows, which reaffirmed my belief that Jones is a genius, though not an easy one.

That first night at the Du Noord, she had some guys backing her she'd obviously never played with before, as if she had passed by Oak Street and asked aloud, "who can play around here, I have a gig in an hour?"  The next night some axe men showed up who had played with her before- and importantly, seemed to know her idiosyncrasies, and the result was magic. The entire stand, as musicians rolled across the stage depending on the whim of Jones' mood that day, turned out to be captivating and compelling, though greatly uneven.

Fast forward to 2011, and I was surprised but pleased to see Rickie Lee getting an obviously prestige gig at Davies Symphony Hall, the night before Tony Bennett was to take the same stage under the same sponsor. SFJazz  has a solid reputation for presenting consistently high quality shows- their name on a gig is almost an imprimatur of quality few Bay Area performing arts organizations can boast of. Though with live performances there's never a guarantee, it's been my experience in the past three or four years that an SFJazz show rarely disappoints.

And yet Jones' shows was a mess from the first moment when she was announced over the PA at a volume that was shockingly loud. Starting off with "Chuck E.'s in Love," Jones' band seemed incapable of playing the song with any nuance, overfilling the arrangement of a song in which the empty spaces say as much as the notes and lyrics do. It wasn't a different arrangement, or at least it didn't sound like one to me- it just sounded like Jones, picking out the tune's riff on an acoustic guitar she was displeased with from the moment she first hit a chord on it, was the only one onstage who had any idea what it should sound like. The over-amplified sound mix was not only too loud for Davies, but from where we sat toward the back of the orchestra, it was unfathomably distorted, giving none of the musicians a break.

Jones' problems with guitars continued as she switched back and forth between a couple, and I almost felt pity for the hapless tech who was trying to make it right for her in what turned out to be a vain attempt as the singer grew increasingly frustrated with first her instruments, then the volume of the band, then the band itself. By the time they made it to "Weasel And The White Boys Cool" the band looked like it had little hope of getting it together.

When they began the material from Pirates things got even worse. The songs on this album are deceptively complicated in their arrangements and the band just floundered, with the three-piece horn section even completely missing their entrance on the title track, forcing Jones to start the song over again, which they had already done for "Living it Up." The drummer got an almost constant berating to speed it up or down, or just to follow her, and even though Jones went over and kissed him on the cheek afterward to make nice, the fact that the band was completely unrehearsed was laid bare on the stage for all to see. I could go on with a list of more that was completely off, but you get the point by now. As for Jones, while her voice hasn't aged well, what she no longer has in clarity she makes up for in her inimitable idiosyncrasies and phrasing. On top of that, she's still a magnetic presence on the stage.

The audience, which deserved a lot better than they got, seemed swayed by that magnetism and refused to acknowledge that at least for this gig, the Duchess had no clothes on. While I observed a slow but steady stream of exits during the show, at the end Jones and the band received a prolonged standing ovation. I have no idea why, but there you have it- I guess they "like it like that."

Later, while the Duchess of Reseda and I were talking about the show and much more at the bar of Sugar, Heidi Melton walked in, looking absolutely fantastic.

Squinch this!

If you had told me prior to walking into the Novellus Theater last night that the world premiere of Alonzo King's Lines Ballet Triangle of the Squinches was going to be an early candidate for worst thing I've seen this year I wouldn't have believed you. After all, on Thursday night the Swede and I left at the intermission of Killing My Lobster: the Reboot and never looked back. It's all in the expectations. While mine weren't tremendously high for the comedy troupe, they were for Lines Ballet, so the disappointment runs deeper.

How bad was it? In a word- terrible! So, I know some fan of King's is going to leave some comment claiming I obviously don't know what I'm talking about- the audience loved it! And that's true- at least 80% audience was applauding enthusiastically for something, but I think it was sympathy for the dancers. At least that's what I hope it was, because the company has extremely talented dancers who worked tremendously hard at giving some life and meaning to a work that contains little of either. I respect the dancers so much I am not even going to name any of them so when they google themselves they won't find their names linked to such a horrid and insensitive review.

In King's almost largely incomprehensible notes, I believe he tried to explain what the work was about but frankly I read the notes three times and was still at a loss to understand what the hell he was saying. I turned to Penelope (who went to some pretty good schools) and asked if they made any sense to her.

"Nope," she said.

Oh well. I thought maybe it would all become clear once the show started.

The props by architect Christopher were certainly interesting- giant loom-like backdrops with white elastic strings the dancers walked through, leaned into, got tangled up in, and did this and that within the strings, all to Mickey Hart's boring, ambient music that added absolutely nothing to anything whatsoever except made me want to go to sleep or find the chill-out room.

After half an hour of this nonsense the curtain came down. I guess, one could say there was some message in there about how entangled we can become in our own lives, and how when we're falling it's good to have the support of others, but for half an hour? There were only 5 or so "acts"to this half and the second part had more than a dozen. Like what we had just witnessed, something seemed seriously out of balance.

We stood outside at intermission and talked about what people were wearing and debated whether or not we should stay for more. We decided two things: the first is that no matter how young you are, most women do not look good in these ultra-minis currently in vogue and if you have to keep tugging your skirt down you have on the wrong skirt, ladies; the second was that we would stay for the rest because it had to get better, right?

Wrong, though Penelope did think the second half marginally not-as-awful as the first. I disagree and think the whole thing was dreck. Haas's set for the second part (an hour long!) was some weird cardboard wall that resembled a set of interlocking hex wrenches, or something of that nature. There were slats where the dancers reached out from behind to whomever was moving along the front, or people lept from the top, but it was really just a bunch of people moving around, rarely with each other, and Hart's "music" gave them absolutely no queues to work from. That any of them were in synch at all is a testament to their talent because King and Hart gave them little to work with or explore in any meaningful way. At the end the dancers rolled the backdrop off to the side of the stage as if it were a tank wheel, while one wildly pirouetted his arms as if to say "NO! Stop this inevitable progress!" Good grief.

As we were leaving, we wondered why or at what people seemed to be so enthusiastic about. Maybe it's because the tickets weren't cheap and no one likes to feel like they were suckered, but this time, the emperor had no clothes. Oh, yes- and the costumes? Horrible!

When we returned home we decided to look up the reviews (now wishing we had done so ahead of buying the tickets) and they were all fairly tepid in their criticism but much kinder toward this mess than I feel it deserves. I felt sorry for the kids in the audience, who now can say to their parents with complete justification "but you took me to that awful ballet the last time and it made no sense! I don't want anymore culture- let's go to a tractor pull!"

And the kids would be right.