Favorites of 2015

Clockwise from top right: Mad Max: Fury Road, South Park, Pericles,
Mr. Burns, Gotham, and Bluebeard's Castle

Not a comprehensive best-of list; just my personal favorites from all sorts of media in 2015.

Books

The sun comes out after a good book.

Billie by Anna Gavalda: It rained all the first day of a family vacation, but I didn't mind, because I'd brought this book. This little gem of a novel (translated from the French) chronicles the relationship between two childhood friends determined to break away from their white-trashy town and make it in Paris. The two stick together through classroom awkwardness, homophobic violence, and a potentially fatal hiking accident - the immediate aftermath of which finds Billie telling their story to a star. Gavalda's skill shines in her use of Billie, an inarticulate girl who's bold but lacking in confidence, as narrator. Like Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami last year, this was just the right book at the right time for me.

Horse Medicine by Doug Anderson: I'm a sucker for dead horse poems. Although that's what first drew me to this book, the collection encompasses Anderson's reflections on not just horses, but religion, war, and aging. My favorite lines come from "What the Angel Said": "Who are you to think/ you will not have to/ live history/ out all the way/ to the consequences/ and beyond?"

Paper-Doll Fetus by Cynthia Marie Hoffman: In this poetry collection, a rock falls in love with a goat placenta, and it makes sense. With fearlessness and compassion, Hoffman dives into the female reproductive system, exploring miscarriages, stillbirths, phantom pregnancies, and the traumas and joys of childbirth. There are poems told not only from the point of view of the aforementioned rock and the titular doomed fetus, but from a strap used to inhumanely restrain laboring women and a lamb who dies shortly after being born. Periods still suck, but I appreciate them a little bit more having read this book.

The Good, the Bad, and the Furry by Tom Cox: Yes, Cox writes cat books about a famous twitter handle, @MYSADCAT, but his books transcend cat books and twitter books. They're thoughtful and funny reflections of the English countryside, parents, nature, music, and yes, cats.

Favorite Old Books I Read or Re-read

King John's Prince Arthur and Hubert in Laslett John Pott's engraving.

Dangerous Liaisons/Les liaisons dangereuses by Choderlos de Laclos: I finally read this French epistolary novel, and despite this being a cliche...yes, something written in 1782 can still be scandalous in 2015. Bored aristocrats the Marquise de Merteuil (a wealthy widow) and her best friend and former lover the Vicomte de Valmont (a bachelor and libertine) manipulate others sexually for fun and revenge. But what starts as a quotidian (for them) ruining of others' lives slowly turns into a battle of wills. Of particular interest are Merteuil's ruminations on the strict gender roles of the time and how she's gotten around them.

Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë: I do a lot of my reading on the bus, and re-reading for the first time since high school this epic about an extended family who needs to get the mix of incest just right in order to heal always made me sad to reach my stop. It's too bad E. Brontë gets accused of romanticizing bad male behavior, because that's not really what's happening. Heathcliff and Cathy are weirdos who need to do their Heathcliff and Cathy thing, not a template for all heterosexual relationships. After reading, I watched three different adaptations (what Wuthering Heights really needs is a mini series that shows all generations at the correct ages) and listened to Kate Bush's song about the novel about a million times.

 King John by Shakespeare: I read this lesser known drama as just another stop on my way to reading all of Shakespeare's plays, for better or worse...but I really liked it and don't see why it isn't performed more. It's basically a less powerful Richard III, but I can see how it would be entertaining on stage. It has a central character audiences are somewhat familiar with (John is the mama's boy lion in Disney's animated Robin Hood), a great comic relief character in Richard the Lionheart's bastard son, a crazy mom meltdown, and a kid talking his way out of a hot poker to the eyes. How is this not a hit?

Movies

Patricia Velasquez leads Liz in September's cast.

Mad Max: Fury Road: This thrilling action movie had style, substance, and heart.

Liz in September: This beautiful tearjerker from Venezuela is the country's first lesbian romance movie.

Tom at the Farm: This tense, arty Quebecois rural noir finally got a limited run in the US.

Cartel Land: The drug cartels of Mexico have been a subject of fascination and horror for years. While 2015 saw fictional characters in Sicario tackle the US's involvement in the violence, Matthew Heineman went on the ground in this documentary about local efforts to quell the reign of terror. The film is an absolute gut-punch, although not in the way you'd necessarily expect: one grassroots group of courageous locals starts out as the lovable underdogs peacefully standing up to the cartels; later, Heineman pans his camera around the now-powerful group's new headquarters as individuals they've detained wait to be tortured. It's a crushing statement on moral corruption and the complexity of fighting evil.

One disputed artistic decision Heineman made was to include scenes of a self-appointed anti-cartel group in the US - basically gun aficionados in camo parading consequence-free around the border. Some critics felt like Heineman was giving this group legitimacy and supporting their cause, but I read the inclusion as ironic. The American group's belief that they're brave soldiers fighting a battle is shown to be a delusion of grandeur when juxtaposed with the citizens of Mexico who are actually dealing with the deadly reality of the cartels.

Theater

Nadine Sierra and Brian Mulligan in Lucia di Lammermoor.

Mr. Burns: A Post-Electric Play - A.C.T.: Anne Washburn's Simpsons-inspired meditation on storytelling and human resolve is one of the most polarizing plays I've seen. Full write-up here.

Swimmer - San Francisco Ballet: Yuri Possokhov, SF Ballet's choreographer in residence, based this ballet on a John Cheever short story. The loose plot is that a philandering businessman swims through neighbors' pools, glimpsing others' lives. But when he returns to his own suburban home, he finds his nuclear family is gone. The piece is a celebration and examination of the American mid-century modern aesthetic, and is visually stunning. However, while the video projections sometimes added a lot, they weren't always necessary (example: in the final scene, it was clear from the dancer's pantomime that he was flailing in the water; the added video footage of a man flailing in water was superfluous).

Pericles - Oregon Shakespeare Festival: I'm so glad I got a second chance to see the play that made Pericles good!

Lucia di Lammermoor - San Francisco Opera: I was lucky to share in a friend's complimentary tickets to this opera with rising star Nadine Sierra (excellent as Musetta in last year's La Boheme at SF Opera). The set for Enrico's office was breathtaking and properly imposing, and the famous "mad scene" was especially visceral.

Other theater favorites this year: Dan Clegg unexpectly stole the show as Edmund in California Shakespeare Theatre's King Lear; Berkeley Rep scored one of the top Eponines, Samantha Barks, for Amelie; and I finally got to see The Book of Mormon!

TV

Mikhail Petrenko and Nadja Michael in Bluebeard's Castle

Great Performances at the Met: Bluebeard's Castle: I caught the second part of this PBS double feature by chance. I turned on the TV, intending to veg out to the hot twins show on HGTV or something else other than a two-person Hungarian opera, but the channel was set to PBS, and the very first frame arrested me. By the end of the day, I had watched several other versions of the opera on YouTube* and added the music to my iPod.

At its most literal, Bluebeard's Castle (by Béla Bartók and Béla Balázs) is about a woman gradually realizing, and finally admitting out loud, that her new husband is a serial killer. But it's also about what we keep hidden within ourselves and the competing desires to deny or investigate in the face of unpleasantness. Mikhail Petrenko's and Nadja Michael's performances; the Met's minimalist yet dramatic staging in black, gray, white, blue, and red; and the skillful cinematography of this stage performance make for an hour that is almost unbearably tense, but too captivating to turn from. 

*Sadly, it looks like there's no DVD of the Met's production available yet. Other productions available on YouTube include Michael Powell's 1963 movie; this modern, noirish version; and the UC Davis Symphony Orchestra's performance (in English).

Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt: Kimmy Schmidt joined the heroines of Mad Max: Fury Road and Room by also escaping her Bluebeard in 2015. While Fury Road told the tale as an action movie and Room used stark realism, Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt did a risky take - humor - and succeeded.

Better Call Saul: The prequel is off to a good start with this concise first season. While it shares characters and the gorgeous New Mexico setting with Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul is developing its own brand of dark humor and character drama, and has its own breakout stars in Rhea Seehorn and Michael Mando. A highlight of the season was finally learning what happened with ex-cop Mike in Philadelphia in an episode that ended with a bravura monologue by Jonathan Banks. I'm hoping a future season will reveal the similarly hinted at dark past in Chile of Giancarlo Esposito's Gus.

South Park: South Park continues its high note as it nears drinking age. The satire in season nineteen was topical and withering without over-the-top seething. Targets included both politically correct ideology and reactionary conservatism, online advertising, gentrification (most notably in a stomach-churningly accurate condo commerical), and America's gun lust. And there was a nice break from the heaviness of real-world problems in a meta episode acknowledging one of the curiosities of the fandom: certain fans' obsession with the imagined romance between minor characters Tweek and Craig. The hilarious episode included musical montages set to fanart submitted by viewers.

Gotham: The pre-Batman Batman show hit its stride in the second season, leading with stellar performances by Cameron Monaghan (I will be so mad if Jerome's not in Indian Hill!), James Frain, Erin Richards, and the rest of  the regular cast. The intertwining of Gotham society's underbelly became more insidious than ever: Jim Gordon's relationship with Penguin's criminal enterprise became even deeper steeped in blood, Ed (the future Riddler) and Penguin became murder-buddies and roommates, and Wayne Enterprises was revealed to be working with Arkham Asylum on a series of inhumane medical experiments.

Besides the Jerome thing, my main complaints are the premature end of Sarah Essen and the unremarked upon absence of Renee Montoya. I hope Montoya's back in the second half of season two, which will feature the great BD Wong as Hugo Strange.

Art

A Robert Dighton work from Luminous Worlds

Janet Delaney: South of Market at the de Young: SOMA is probably the best example of San Francisco's gentrification and housing bubble, so 2015 was the perfect year to look at Delaney's photos of the neighborhood as it was in the 70s and 80s.

Luminous Worlds: British Works on Paper at the Legion of Honor: Tucked away in one of the farthest corners of my favorite museum, this exhibition of physically delicate works by Turner, Beardsley, Blake, and more was truly luminous.

Time|less: Kappy Wells, The San Francisco Gallery: Working with sheetrock and charcoal, Wells captured the magnificence of the glaciers we are losing to global warming. 

Welcome to Night Vale the Novel

Authors Jeffrey Cranor (center) and Joseph Fink (right) at the Castro Theatre

Although I like to think I'm not a crazy Welcome to Night Vale fangirl, I have been to four events for the hit spooky-funny-quirky podcast. In January 2014 I attended a panel at Haight-Ashbury's Booksmith and then a live show at the Mission's Victoria Theatre (I wrote about both events here). Earlier this year I caught a second live show at the much bigger Fox Theatre in Oakland. And on 10/29/15, I attended another Booksmith event: the release of Welcome to Night Vale the novel, held at the Castro Theatre.

The book, written by the co-writers of the podcast, Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor, has been rabidly anticipated by legions of fans and debuted at #4 on the New York Times bestsellers list. Having read it...I'm interested in what other fans think, mostly because I wasn't that into it. While I found the book entertaining, I didn't find it strong, deep, or lasting. Characterization and plotting issues took away from the enjoyment for me. Other reviewers, like speculative fiction stars Cory Doctorow and Amal El-Mohtar, have been effusive, so maybe there's something I'm missing. Maybe I'm like Cecil Palmer with Steve Carlsberg's scones. Or maybe I'm just Steve Carlsberg.

Fans line up for the 10/29/15 event

It's impossible to not compare the novel to the podcast, for better or worse. Not only are the tone and voice similar, but there are endless references to what's gone on in the fake newscast, and even segments of Cecil's reports. And while this dry, oddball humor often works well in the novel's prose, sometimes it falls short. This is especially true in the aforementioned news reports. Reading the transcripts makes you realize just how how much voice actor Cecil Baldwin brings to the material. Details that might have gotten laughs as asides on the podcast (the many rituals and oddities of the town) clutter up the pages here.

Despite the presence of Cecil's reports, the biggest change from the podcast is the lack of Cecil. His show is incorporated into the narrative, but he's not really present as a character. There are probably fans who are relieved by this, and fans who are deeply disappointed by this. Cecil's romance with scientist Carlos has been one of the most popular parts of the podcast, inspiring swoons and fan art galore, but it has also threatened to overpower the podcast at times, and some worry about the series devolving into pure fanservice. Cecil and Carlos are great, but Night Vale can and does excel even when they aren't in the picture (such as standout episodes "A Story About Them" and "The September Monologues," for example).

Like this, except they're an actual (fictional) couple

Fink and Cranor compromise here: Cecil and Carlos are not the protagonists, but how amazingly in love they are is mentioned about a billion times. It's not clear if this is an earnest attempt to appease fans or a self-parody. Carlos does get a cameo, as do other favorites like Cecil's sweet but hapless brother-in-law Steve, angelically protected Old Woman Josie, and intern-turned-mayor Dana Cardinal.

The main characters in the novel are two women we haven't seen much of before: Diane Crayton, single mom to a fifteen-year-old shape-shifting son, and Jackie Fierro, perpetually nineteen. Diane is unsure how to tell her son, Josh, about his absent father. Jackie doesn't know why she's perpetually nineteen. After a (or rather, the) man in a tan jacket gives them both notes reading "King City" and they both start seeing a blond man around town, their quests converge.

Diane, I felt, was the heart of the story. This wasn't surprising after hearing Jeffrey Cranor speak at the Castro event - he talked about how his own experience of being raised by a divorced mother helped him identify with the character of Diane. While this sort of personal history isn't a requirement, it is possibly why Diane feels so authentic. She's one of the most "normal" people we've seen in Night Vale: a PTA mom in a dull office job. But this normality alone isn't what makes her relatable - that comes from the specificity and depth Cranor gives her (although a collaboration, Cranor worked more on the "Diane" sections). The way she agonizes over what to write in a text, her mixed feelings about her secluded spot in the office, and her anxiety over meeting a colleague outside of work make her not just a stock "soccer mom," but a real woman we care about.

We get nearly none of that with Jackie. Her backstory is intriguing and typically Night Valean: a girl who has been nineteen for decades, watching her former classmates grow up and grow old. She can't remember her childhood or how she started working at the pawn shop she returns to everyday. But all we get of her character are a few signifiers. For example, she says "man" and "dude" a lot. Sometimes she's a retiring homebody and sometimes she acts in a way that seems intended to make the reader say, "What a badass." While plenty of people are sometimes homebodies and sometimes badasses, her personality shifts seem to have more to do with the needs of the plot than with her own complexity or growth. So much of how the plot progresses has to do with the bond Jackie and Diane develop, but that bond felt forced and artificial to me.

Fink spoke of being drawn to Jackie much like Cranor was drawn to Diane, but it's hard to say what he sees in her and wants to show us. This is especially frustrating when you consider the many characters of the podcast who became dear to listeners with just a handful of well chosen words. Why weren't the writers able to do in a novel what they can do in a few sentences? Would a voice actor have been able to bring to Jackie what Fink and Cranor couldn't? Maybe those listening to the audio book read by Baldwin will have a different impression.

Spoilers below Hiram!

Beyond the characterization issues, the plotting falls apart a bit at the end. Our protagonists finally get to King City, and there are some haunting and unsettling descriptions of the town, but we don't get much of a satisfying conclusion at our destination. The explanation for the ubiquitous "King City" notes was almost definitely thought of after the fact. We finally meet Troy, Josh's (and Jackie's) father, but we don't learn much about him, and why one of his children was thought to be needed by the city is unclear. Why is Jackie stuck at nineteen? Is it because of who her father is or just a Night Vale thing? These questions are answered with a shrug, but it's a shrug that feels unearned.

My biggest disappointment was the revelation of the identity of the man in the tan jacket. The mysterious character with his deerskin suitcase full of flies has haunted Night Vale since episode 14 in 2013, and he always seemed to be a part of one of the secrets behind the scenes, possibly with ties to former mayor Pamela Winchell. It turns out he's the mayor of King City but was forgotten because of Troy for some reason and needs to spend more time with his family? You deserved better, Evan Eric Elliott man in the tan jacket!


Image info:
Crappy photos: mine
South Park: from episode "Tweek X Craig," which is amazing
Welcome to Night Vale novel cover: official page
Hiram McDaniels: Night Vale Wikia

Run, Tom, Run: Tom at the Farm

I'm new to the work of director Xavier Dolan, who is new to the world, having been born in 1989. Despite not yet reaching 30, the Quebecois Dolan recently finished his sixth full-length movie. Tom at the Farm/Tom a la Ferme is his fourth; while it was released in 2013, it only got its stateside viewing last week.

Tom at the Farm is an adaptation of the Michel Marc Bouchard play, and actors Lise Roy and Pierre-Yves Cardinal reprise their stage roles. I haven't seen or read the play (the San Francisco Public Library's copy is currently MIA), so I don't know how closely this version follows it. Regardless, it stands on its own as an artsy thriller.

After the sudden death of his boyfriend Guy, cosmopolitan Tom (Dolan) leaves Montreal to attend the funeral in Guy's distant, rural hometown. He finds Guy's dreary childhood farmhouse (a place with no cellphone reception, always a red flag in movies) and meets Guy's mother, Agathe (Roy), who doesn't know who he is, and Francis (Cardinal), the older brother Guy never mentioned, who knows exactly who he is. Guy left home at sixteen, and the story that has been relayed to Agathe from Francis is that Guy (proper name Guillaume, as Francis firmly insists on calling him) was straight and had been in a long-term relationship with a co-worker named Sarah.

Cardinal, Roy, and Dolan at an awkward funeral

Francis violently forces Tom to play out this lie, and this eventually leads to him also violently keeping Tom at the farm. Cardinal brings such a frightening, alluring mixture of subtlety and raw physical power to the brutish Francis that it's clear why Dolan brought him on for the film. While Tom's first instinct is to get away from this hick bully, he's also drawn to Francis. Francis reminds him of Guy, both in appearance, and, it's hinted, in the sexual roles they find themselves playing. When the two fall into a perfect tango and Francis asks Tom who taught him to dance, he doesn't answer and doesn't need to. This might shed some light on Tom and Guy's relationship, but more so and alarmingly, it seems to illuminate what Francis and Guy's was.

Soon, it's not just the fact that Francis removed his car's wheels that's keeping Tom at the farm. When Tom uses the farmhouse's landline to call the real Sarah, it's not a plothole that has made him forget he had that option all along despite his useless cellphone. But whether he's made the choice to stay willingly or has succumbed to Stockholm Syndrome, the farm is still a place of danger. Shortly after a revelation chillingly scored to Corey Hart's cheesy 80s hit "Sunglasses at Night," Tom must rethink his decision.

Dolan's been called narcissistic for shots like this, but he is very pretty. 

I can see Tom at the Farm being one of those "love it or hate it" pieces: it's beautiful and intense, but its lack of defined answers will be aggravating for some. This is a movie where everything is implied, and you have to put the pieces together yourself or even just say "screw it" and commit to your own interpretation with little to no evidence. What does an empty table mean? What about twin beds pushed together? Lise Roy's excellent performance feeds into this ambiguity - it's clear she's anguished, but it's uncertain what she knows about either of her sons.

Tom at the Farm is currently playing at the 4 Star Theatre in San Francisco.

Two Films from Frameline39

I was fortunate to get two free tickets for this year's Frameline39, the San Francisco International LGBTQ Film Festival. The popular festival features dozens of diverse movies, documentaries, and shorts from all over the world. At last year's festival I watched Out in East Berlin, a documentary with a wide range of viewpoints about being gay in the GDR in the years leading up to the fall of the Berlin Wall. This year I picked two international narrative films: Liz in September from Venezuela and All About E from Australia.

Patricia Velasquez and Eloisa Maturén in Liz in September

Liz in September/Liz en Septiembre

A few years ago, I had a type of thyroid cancer: papillary thyroid carcinoma. This is generally one of the most treatable cancers. The surgeon chops out your thyroid, maybe you get a little radiation thrown in, and you take a pill every morning. But despite how non-lethal my own brush with malignant cells was, post-thyroidectomy I cry uncontrollably at cancer movies. 50/50, The Fault in Our Stars, and now Liz in September are all films that have made me wipe my eyes with my Muni-germ hands.

Liz in September is a Venezuelan film from director Fina Torres. It's based on an American play, Last Summer at Bluefish Cove by Jane Chambers. Liz (Patricia Velasquez) has had an unspecified cancer before, and now it's back and terminal. However, she keeps this diagnosis secret during the beach vacation she's having with friends (an excellent supporting cast) to celebrate her 37th birthday. The tight-knit group is interrupted by Eva (Eloisa Maturén), whose car has broken down. Liz's friends give her the challenge of seducing the apparently straight newcomer, not knowing how vulnerable Eva is: her young son has died, and her husband is having an affair. Still, romance blooms as Liz teaches Eva how to scuba dive and takes her on motorcycle and boat rides. Velasquez gives a subtle, deep performance with pain and humor. Maturén, a former ballerina, is endearing in her first acting role.

I'm not familiar with Chambers's play, but Torres's adaptation is gorgeous and warm. I wanted to be at that beach and at that inn, swimming, reading, and eating fresh fruit. As beautiful as the film is, it was apparently very hard to get made - Torres explained during the Q&A that this "labor of love" was many years in the making, and thanked producer Laura Oramas for saving the production from various last-minute emergencies. Their determination is inspiring for anyone working on their own long-term passion project.

L to R: ASL interpreter, producer Laura Oramas, Patricia Velasquez, 

Maria Luisa Flores, Eloisa Maturén, director Fina Torres, emcee

All About E

On Monday night I saw All About E, an Australian comedy/drama/romance/thriller from director Louise Wadley. E (Mandahla Rose) is a star DJ who parties hard and womanizes harder. But she's also stuck with her controlling, sleazy boss (Simon Bolton) and is so determined to stay in the closet to her Lebanese immigrant parents that she has her best friend Matt (Brett Rogers) pose as her husband. Perhaps because of these constrictions, when a duffel bag of cash appears she impulsively goes on the run with it, dragging Matt along, and we soon learn that deep down, all she really wants is to play the clarinet and settle down with a farmgirl.

The film felt tonally inconsistent to me, but this might be a quirk of Australian comedic cinema. Although they hold together better as dramedies, Muriel's Wedding and The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, are similarly erratic and were both mentioned by Wadley as inspiration. All About E is a mix of realistic, authentic moments contrasted with sometimes cartoonish characters and actions fueled mainly by plot. I definitely had some questions at the end (What was up with E and her boss? Why do they still have to get in the plane?), but it's an enjoyable ride.

A lot of that enjoyment is due to the leading ladies: Rose and Julia Billington. Although Billington claimed during the Q&A that she's a "city girl," she's totally believable as a tough but heartbroken country girl riding around on a tractor. The chemistry between Rose and Billington is such that you have to root for their characters' romance, even though E is a mess. That E remains sympathetic is thanks to Rose's performance. The beautiful music by Basil Hogios and Joseph Tawadros and cinematography by Justine Kerrigan are also highlights.

L to R: Simon Bolton, Brett Rogers, Julia Billington,
Mandahla Rose, producer Jay Rutovitz, director Louise Wadley

Frameline39 continues through this Sunday, June 28. An encore presentation of All About E will screen in Piedmont on Wednesday, and it will screen at Outfest in Los Angeles on July 12. Liz in September will also be screening at Outfest on July 12.

Janet Delaney: South of Market

Painting Mural, Langton Street, 1980 by Janet Delaney

A few weekends ago, I spent a Saturday helping with an office move. The next day, to relax after hauling boxes and packing/unpacking seemingly endless office supplies, I went to the de Young Museum in Golden Gate Park.

The reason I went was actually to see Botticelli to Braque: Masterpieces from the National Galleries of Scotland, but while there, I remembered there was another exhibition I'd been meaning to see: Janet Delaney: South of Market, an exhibition of photographs of the SOMA neighborhood.

The timing was fortuitous, because the office move I'd just worked on was a relocation from SOMA (South of Market/South Of Market Area) to the Financial District. The Financial District, as its name implies, is has historically been the core of San Francisco business. However, the past few decades have seen more and more office buildings rise on the other side of Market Street, joining the previously quite solitary Pacific Telephone Building at 140 New Montgomery. Now, with SOMA being the desired HQ for many tech companies, the amount of skyscrapers being built for business and luxury living is staggering.

Photo I took in July 2014, looking northeast over the Transbay Transit Center.

With this influx of tech companies and their highest-paid beneficiaries have come steeply rising rents. One bedroom apartments at Tower 2 of One Rincon Hill, the second tower from right in the photo above, currently start at 613 sq. ft. and  > $3000.

So Janet Delaney: South of Market, is especially timely. Delaney moved to SOMA in 1978, just as redevelopment was starting, and she soon began documenting the neighborhood's transition. This exhibition displays her resulting photographs of SOMA in the late 70s and early 80s: a SOMA with diverse residents who are feeling - rightfully - threatened by the construction growing around them.

Detail from Langton between Folsom and Harrison Streets, 1979.

Delaney's images are deeply affecting, especially for those familiar with the area. A few older visitors I saw seemed overwhelmed with emotion. I felt a mix of melancholy and guilt. The just-completed office move meant I would no longer spend my lunch breaks in South Park or Yerba Buena Gardens, where I walked, read, and wrote. But the only reason I had had access to those places was because of my job's location, which was linked to the development that displaced so many.

Excerpts of Delaney's interviews with residents are on display. Their concerns are strikingly familiar: fears of being pushed out of the Bay Area entirely, frustration at the changing landscape, and the stress of living under an absentee landlord who might indirectly evict you at any time by drastically raising your rent. Although I'm not in as dire straits as most of those interviewed, being able to stay in the Bay Area, where I was born and raised, seems less and less sure.

Sorry, as always, for my awful photos. 

Whether it brings grim consolation or just despair, Delaney's work highlights that there's nothing new about the constantly changing nature of neighborhoods and the constancy of instability for and artists and those on the lowest rungs of the economic ladder. While looking at the photographs and reading the stories, I thought of how the poor were displaced in Paris under Haussmann and in New York City under Giuliani. I wondered where those who work in the Bay Area but are increasingly unable to afford living here are supposed to go. Will areas inaccessible now someday be feasible again? SOMA landmark South Park was built in the 1850s as an exclusive square for the wealthy. Since then it has risen and fallen in real estate value multiple times. Currently, the park hosts a mix of tech workers, homeless, and dog owners of various income brackets, and is slated for a renovation.

Yerba Buena Gardens, part of what was unsuccessfully fought against in the pamphlet below, is a beautiful public space where a diverse crowd can find some tranquility in the city. Office workers, families, passersby, schoolchildren, and residents from assisted care facilities attend their free summer entertainment. It also shuts down occasionally for private, grandiose tech events. In one of Delaney's photographs, the area that is now the Yerba Buena Gardens and Jessie Square in front of the Contemporary Jewish Museum consists of a parking lot - and razed blocks. Now the surrounding neighborhood is one of the most expensive in the country.

Contemporary flyers, articles, and letters are on display.

Janet Delaney: South of Market has been popular - so popular, in fact, that the accompanying photo book was sold out when I visited, but the FAMSF-published book will be out mid-May. The exhibition runs until July 19th.

Delaney has since returned to SOMA to photograph. Her series SoMa Now is on her website.

Image info:
Painting Mural, Langton Street, 1980 - Janet Delaney's website
All other photos - mine, all but July 2014 taken at exhibition

Mr. Burns: A Post-Electric Play

Ryan Williams French in production photo by Kevin Berne

I've never been a huge fan of The Simpsons, the Matt Groening cartoon that has been running for 25 seasons and counting. Not "not a huge fan" in that I dislike it, but "not a huge fan" in comparison to how it is possible to define a huge fan. A huge fan of the Simpsons is someone like my friend E., who can pretty much quote any episode verbatim, even though the show started just five years after our birth and we are now thirty.

But even though I've only seen a handful of full episodes, I know much more about the Simpsons than what is in those episodes, and not only because I've known E. for nearly twenty years. I remember a youth pastor ranting about Bart's disrespectful behavior when I went to a friend's church camp that turned out to be way more conservative than my usual church camp. When learning about satire in honors English, we discussed the Simpsons. I've seen the memes, and I know Nelson's "ha ha!" I don't think I've ever seen Comic Book Guy in action, but each comic book Wednesday, when on the way home from work I get that week's comic book and then walk across the street to the donut shop while wishing it were just attached to the comic shop for my convenience, I feel like Comic Book Guy, despite being a 120lb woman.

Comics and donuts should be sold together.

If you live in America, and even if you don't (last month Bolivian Simpsons fans protested a schedule change), the Simpsons has probably become a part of your culture, like it or not (interestingly, a search for clips on Youtube makes it clear how zealously Fox holds that copyright). It is this shared culture that is explored in playwright Anne Washburn's Mr. Burns: A Post-Electric Play, currently playing at A.C.T. through March 15. I saw this play recently (with E., of course), and found it funny, moving, and thought-provoking.

Washburn takes on that specifically post-atomic genre, the post-apocalyptic piece. Once we realized we had the power to truly destroy the world, we began creating art to cope with and explore that fact. The utterly devastating Threads, the gallows humor of Dr. Strangelove, Dr. Seuss's Cold-War-for-kids The Butter Battle Book, Cormac McCarthy's The Road, Carolyn See's Golden Days, and Margaret Atwood's Oryx and Crake are all part of this tradition.

In Washburn's play, survivors of a catastrophic event involving nuclear power plants sit around a campfire, trying to remember the Simpsons' "Cape Feare" episode. Some of the survivors are Simpsons devotees, and others have not seen an episode yet still know certain quotable lines. As the story progresses, we see how vital stories are and how they shift with the times while staying timeless at their core. Characters merge by design or accident, and circumstances change to reflect the teller's current reality. By the third act, the "Cape Feare" episode has transformed into something both brutal and uplifting.

If you're in the SF Bay Area and have a chance to see Mr. Burns this week, I recommend it.




Images:
Production photo: A.C.T./Kevin Berne
Comic Book Guy: "The Simpsons-Jeff Albertson" by Source. Licensed under Fair use via Wikipedia

Night Vale in San Francisco

Welcome to Jan 21

I wasn't sure what "Night Vale" was when I first saw it mentioned on Tumblr and Twitter. Was it a TV show? A comic book? A game? When I found out it was a podcast, its popularity was only more confusing. Old-timey radio dramas are what the kids are into these days? I knew The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy had started as a radio show, but that was in the 70s, and Douglas Adams figured out other mediums pretty quickly. I love animator Leigh Lahav, but I found her "Night of the Raging Fangirls" short perplexing. Were people that obsessed with the relationship of two fake people they've never seen? (The fact that you don't "see" characters in books either had no effect on my logic.)




But I gave it a try (episodes are free) and played episodes while I was cleaning, while I was in the bath, and during my Muni commute...and quickly found myself completely caught up with over two dozen past episodes. (They're currently up to 39.)

"Welcome to Night Vale" is a spooky, off-kilter comedy in the form a radio newscast from the titular supernaturally afflicted town. Cecil Palmer (voiced by Cecil Baldwin) is our host, and often (but not always) the only voice we hear. We see Night Vale, an isolated desert town, through this proud resident. In some respects it's a typical American small town; it's made up of chain stores, fast food franchises, and optimistically named condo developments. But then there's the dog park no one is allowed to enter, the spires, the pier at the non-existent waterfront... Oh, and it's ruled (until recently!) by a sinister government of hooded figures, secret police, and mysterious mayor Pamela Winchell.

Through friendly Cecil we "meet" Night Vale's inhabitants, which include Cecil's crush-turned-boyfriend Carlos, a heroic scientist and Night Vale newcomer determined to solve the town's mysteries; Josie, an elderly lady watched over by angels; Koscheck, the floating cat who lives in the radio station's men's bathroom; Hiram McDaniels, an ex-con and mayoral candidate who is also a five-headed dragon; Dana, an intrepid intern currently on an other-dimensional journey; and fearless child revolutionary and summer reading program champion Tamika Flynn. And many, many more.

Cecil and Carlos's romantic Arby's parking lot outing as depicted on an official t-shirt.

Night Vale came to San Francisco as part of its live show tour, and I managed, without murder (but not without a lot of F5 hitting and bloodstone circles), to score tickets for the 1/21 show. And a bonus was added: Cecil Baldwin, writers Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor, and credits/proverb reader Meg Bashwiner did a free panel and Q&A at Booksmith in the Haight on 1/19.

Baldwin, Fink and Cranor (or possibly vice-versa?), and Bashwiner at Booksmith.

I won't recount the whole history of "Welcome to Night Vale," which the panelists discussed (they met as members of New York theater group Neo-Futurists), but I was impressed with their commitment to the show. It's clear from hearing Fink and Cranor speak that keeping the writing excellent is important to them. When asked about their favorite episodes, standouts "A Story About You," a haunting episode told in second-person, and "The Sandstorm," a two-part episode where we get a full broadcast from Desert Bluffs, Night Vale's neighbor and rival, were both mentioned.

I also liked their answer to a very good question that came up regarding the Night Vale book that will be coming out in 2015. When asked if it will be illustrated, Cranor and Fink said they would push against that, as they value fans' interpretations of how the characters look. Since we're given little description, fans have made their own art of the characters, celebrating Night Vale's premise as a diverse community. How characters look, the writers said, belongs to the fans.

My headcanon Pamela Winchell is Laura Fraser as Lydia in Breaking Bad.

So after lots of waiting, tonight was the live show. It was held in the Mission District's Victoria Theatre, a 1908 venue. And it was packed. This shouldn't have been a surprise, seeing as the show sold out within minutes (they had to add a second), but seeing all 491 seats filled with happy Night Vale fans really put the show's popularity in perspective. And I don't think a single fan left disappointed.

The opening act, Night Vale "weather" alum Jason Webley, was well picked. A charismatic, Jack Sparrowish hipster, his instruments included an accordion and a bottle of coins. Everyone goes into a theater just wanting the main act to start, but Webley's lively foot-stomping and songs about Orpheus and giraffe ranchers got the crowd laughing and ready for even more fun.

You know your podcast is beloved when the person who reads the credits (Meg Bashwiner again) comes out onstage and is greeted with applause and screams. And then Cecil Baldwin stepped up to the mic, and the audience got even louder. Even as a Night Vale fan, I was floored by Baldwin. Although backed by Fink and Cranor's clever writing, he has to carry the podcast himself, and for the live show, this means standing up onstage alone most of the time, sans props. His stage presence was perfect. He was engaging, expressive, and had great timing. Being able to witness his vocal range in person was enlightening. I learned during Sunday's panel that Baldwin read the creepy verse parts of "The Woman from Italy" himself (I had thought it was a different reader), and this episode gave him a variety of voices to play with.

He was joined a few times by guest stars, which was a wonderful bonus. I wasn't going to spoil it for those who haven't seen or heard it yet (a recording will also be available later), but since pictures are on Twitter, I might as well. Recent fan favorite Tamika Flynn made an appearance with Flor De Liz Perez, who silenced the ecstatic crowd with the poise and assurance her character should have. The audience also went justifiably crazy for Dylan Marron, who was nervous but adorable as Carlos.

If I'm gushing...well, the show deserved it. They did an amazing job.

I'm sure Kevin is just as beloved in Desert Bluffs.

Lil Bub: the Art Show

I've long been a fan of famous kitty Lil Bub. I wrote about her over a year ago, and have been following her on social media ever since. But when I learned there would be a Lil Bub appearance and art show at San Francisco gallery Spoke Art, I was conflicted. On one hand, I really wanted to go. On the other, I didn't know if I wanted to admit to myself and others that I would pay over $20 to meet a famous cat. But finally I decided, "Fine. I will be the sort of person who pays over $20 to meet a famous cat." Fortunately, I wasn't the only  one.

Line reached nearly all the way from Jones to Leavenworth.

We're having a heat wave in SF (fyi that means in the 80s), and I am also apparently the sort of person - and in good company - who will stand in the blazing sun for over an hour and a half to meet a famous cat. Massive thanks to the lady who held my spot so I could go get a cold drink, since, winner that I am, I went alone.

I had been doing a lot of soul-searching regarding this famous cat visit (can one feel outrage about the NSA, concern over Syria, and still pay money to visit a famous cat?) and even more soul-searching regarding the art show. It reminded me of Gallery 1988's frequent themed events. I'd loved to have attended their Breaking Bad show (talked about here) if I lived in LA, but it also kinda feels like marketing. And that's a line pop surrealism/low brow has always skirted along. How are these images of pop culture being used? As satire, homage, metaphor, promotion? For fun? And if for fun, is there substance behind it as well? A friend and I wondered this when we attended a Todd Schorr exhibit at the San Jose Museum of Art in 2009. Schorr's work often features recognizable characters from film and cartoons. His large-scale paintings take exacting skill, but while some works used those characters to create deeper meanings, some seemed to be more along the lines of "I like movie monsters so I painted a whole bunch of movie monsters."

I wondered what the range of the art in this show would be. From what I could see of the works from the Breaking Bad show (and other pop culture shows), some artists really explored the themes and ideas in the series, and some just kinda drew Walt and Jesse. I also wondered if I were being too judgmental. After all, what is the substance of a still life?

However, I really enjoyed the Lil Bub art show. There are over 50 works, and they gave me a lot to think about: art, genre, intention. Also, they were, you know, pictures of a cute cat. So, on with the cat art!

Supersonic Space Princess by Arabella Proffer

Now here's a piece where I think, "Style versus substance? Who fucking cares!" I love this piece's Tara McPherson/Lisa Frank sensibility. Here's "space cat" Lil Bub, with a floating crown, in a beautifully colored landscape. There were a lot of "Lil Bub in space" paintings, since part of the "story" is that Lil Bub comes from another planet, but this was my favorite.

Companions of Whimsy, Nicomi Nix Turner

Sorry for the crappy pic, by the way. There were also a lot of "Lil Bub's head surrounded by flowers" pieces, but I liked what Nix Turner did here. Bub's graphite face and bow are pure kitsch, but instead of daisies and butterflies we get mushrooms and less "appealing" insects. I like this exploration of oddness and cuteness and how the two can oppose each other or intersect.

Frail Caress, kikyz1313

I feel like this piece made similar explorations. Lil Bub, while adorable, is a medical oddity. She was a "special needs" kitten and, while currently healthy, continues to need special care. With its depiction of fragility, beauty, decay, and kindness, this piece reminded me of Mary Oliver's poem "The Kitten."

Bub Paints a Space Beetle, Lilly Piri

Although real-life Bub has been known to ruthlessly attack bugs, another artist, Lilly Piri, depicts "different" kitty Bub and insects as kindred spirits. It's suiting - after all, Bub the champion of the strange is different than Bub the actual cat, who just wants pets and yogurt and would maybe like to eat a bug. I liked this charming contribution in Piri's delicate style.

By the Power of Bub by Aaron Jasinski

I had deemed this a "pop surrealism masterpiece" in my mind before I even saw it was by the great Aaron Jasinski. An internet-famous cat. 80s cartoon nostalgia. Celebrities. Pop-tarts. If this isn't a slide in an art history class someday, I will be disappointed.

Lil Bub's Moonlight Ride, Isabel Samaras

Isabel Samaras was another big name in the show. Her work is generally "pop culture figure in unexpected setting," and that's what we get here with Bub replacing E.T. I would not have had so many nightmares about that movie as a kid if the alien had been Bub instead!

Cult of Bub, Heiko Windisch

This was one of the few pieces that looked critically at Lil Bub's fame, though none too harshly. With a quirky storybook style, Windisch shows both the silliness and joy in being a Bub fan.

Lil Bub in Love, Christine Hostetler 

There were two more watercolors by Hostetler of two of Bub's celebrity encounters, but this one, a portrait of Lil Bub and her "dude" (aka owner Mike), was one of my favorites of the show. It's a sweet reminder that at the heart of the Bub frenzy is just a guy and his beloved cat who loves him back. It's easy to forget that despite the fame, this story started off with a man who took in a stray, medically fragile kitten. His love and respect for Bub was shown in how this event was structured (more on that at the end of this post).

Purring, Rebecca Rose

This fun silver ring of Bub popping out of a computer was one of the few non-paintings in the show (others included some yarnwork and a series of photos of a naked woman in a Bub mask). I'm not sure how comfortable it would be to wear, but it would be great for self-defense!

Three pieces by Johanna O'Donnell

Here's another one of those "style versus substance"questions where I'm on the side of style. The project was to make art of Lil Bub, and O'Donnell did that in a gorgeous, entertaining way. Why not have a beautiful triangular painting of Lil Bub and geometric shapes in your living room instead of a painting of flowers? Why the hell not?

These are just a few of the many, many pieces at the show that stood out to me in some way. I'm sure others will have different favorites. There's a play on Schrodinger's Cat, Bub as a comic book character - even a "Heisenbub" for us Breaking Bad fans. I'm glad I decided to wave my crazy cat lady flag and get a ticket.

Update 9/11: Spoke Art posted all of the works here!


More about the event:

The event was limited to 300 people, which was probably too many, simply because of time constraints. While the wait was long and I'm not sure everyone got in, the slowness was for a good reason: Lil Bub's comfort and safety. Bub and her dude were stationed in a smaller gallery. They only let a few people in at a time so that it wouldn't get too crowded and overwhelming for Bub, and you were limited to one gentle pet. Bub was sitting on a blankie, and her dude was within arm's reach signing the books that were included with ticket purchase. She was very calm, but not lethargic - when an assistant waved a feather wand so she'd look at the camera for the family in front of me, she snapped to attention! I don't remember what compliments I babbled to the dude, but I told Bub she was a very good girl.

Bub poses for photos while her dude signs books.