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"title": "Bill Graham: The Personality No Museum Could Possibly Contain",
"headTitle": "Bill Graham: The Personality No Museum Could Possibly Contain | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>My friend Jeff once found himself stopped at a four-way intersection with another car in Berkeley. Making eye contact to establish which car should go first, the other driver looked over — and was immediately recognized, by my friend, as Bill Graham. Jeff, who came from the sixties counterculture and scorned Graham as a sellout, shot his middle finger up.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Bill Graham looked him dead in the eyes, shot his own middle finger up in response, and drove off.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11412206\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-1180x1180.jpg\" alt=\"Bill Graham in his Army fatigues, 1948. After escaping the holocaust and coming to America, Graham fought in the Korean War.\" width=\"640\" height=\"640\" class=\"size-large wp-image-11412206\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-1180x1180.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-400x400.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-600x600.jpg 600w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-768x768.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-960x960.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-32x32.jpg 32w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-64x64.jpg 64w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-96x96.jpg 96w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-128x128.jpg 128w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-75x75.jpg 75w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Bill Graham in his Army fatigues, 1948. After escaping the holocaust and coming to America, Graham fought in the Korean War. \u003ccite>(Collection of David and Alex Graham)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>There are hundreds of such stories. Love him or \u003ca href=\"https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CdtdJW3VIAEqF6T.jpg\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">hate him\u003c/a>, it would be impossible to contain the vast legacy of Bill Graham — the promoter, showman and quintessential rock impresario who shaped San Francisco’s 1960s rock scene and the rock concert industry at large — in a single museum exhibit. Harder still would be to contain the man’s headstrong, larger-than-life personality, which propelled him to coddle rock stars one minute and berate paying customers the next.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"http://www.thecjm.org/on-view/upcoming/bill-graham-and-the-rock-and-roll-revolution/about\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Bill Graham and the Rock & Roll Revolution\u003c/a>\u003c/em>, an exhibit that opens March 17 at the Contemporary Jewish Museum, accomplishes neither, because it wisely does not set out to try. Instead, the show — moving to its rightful home in San Francisco after a run last year in Los Angeles — is largely a nostalgic collection of photos, posters and memorabilia from concerts that Graham promoted in the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s, each live production growing larger and larger up to his sudden death in 1991.\u003c/p>\n\u003caside class=\"aligncenter\">\n\u003ch4>KQED Forum: Bill Graham and the Rock & Roll Revolution\u003c/h4>\n\u003cp>http://www.kqed.org/.stream/anon/radio/forum/2016/04/Forum20160419b.mp3\u003cbr>\n\u003c/p>\u003c/aside>\n\u003cp>It is at times hard to see Graham through all of it, and that’s probably the point: aside from introducing bands, wishing people a safe drive home while playing his customary exit music “Greensleeves” over the P.A. and his annual stint as “Father Time” at the Grateful Dead’s New Year’s Eve shows, he was at his most active (and, some would say, megalomaniacal) behind the scenes. That’s why those who ordinarily breeze through historical exhibits without listening to the audio tour should pull out their smartphones this time around: The \u003ca href=\"http://BillGrahamAudioTour.toursphere.com\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">voice of Graham\u003c/a>, a master storyteller, provides a vital personal complement.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11412207\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.FillmoreEast-1180x790.jpg\" alt=\"Bill Graham onstage before the final concert at Fillmore East, New York, January 1, 1971. \" width=\"640\" height=\"428\" class=\"size-large wp-image-11412207\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.FillmoreEast-1180x790.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.FillmoreEast-400x268.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.FillmoreEast-800x536.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.FillmoreEast-768x514.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.FillmoreEast.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.FillmoreEast-960x643.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Bill Graham onstage before the final concert at Fillmore East, New York, January 1, 1971. \u003ccite>(John Olson)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Graham’s is a classic American immigrant story — he fled the holocaust, came to the U.S., found a niche, filled it with gusto and transformed American culture. At the Contemporary Jewish Museum, the exhibit’s entryway contains photos, videos and text related to Graham’s early life both in Poland and the Bronx, his harrowing journey overseas and service in the Korean War.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But quickly, the show runs through \u003cem>Bill Graham’s Greatest Hits\u003c/em>. The early benefits for the Mime Troupe; the Trips Festival and then the world-famous Fillmore era (including the original Fillmore Ballroom, the Fillmore West on Market & Van Ness and the Fillmore East in New York) comprise much of the exhibit. Because this portion contains mostly now-famous posters by Rick Griffin and Stanley Mouse, or now-famous photos by Jim Marshall or Baron Wolman, it feels not only superfluous but woefully bereft of Graham himself. There’s Janis Joplin’s outfit, and Carlos Santana’s guitar. But aside from the cowbell on display that Graham played \u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jdFV3umJJJw\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">at Woodstock with Santana\u003c/a>, where are his own stories? His experiences? Why is he hardly in any of the photographs?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The answer, I’m sure, would be that this \u003cem>was\u003c/em> Graham: bringing talented people together, propelling them to be their best, in front of as many people as possible.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11412208\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland-799x1180.jpg\" alt=\"Closing Winterland, December 31, 1978. \" width=\"640\" height=\"945\" class=\"size-large wp-image-11412208\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland-799x1180.jpg 799w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland-400x591.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland-406x600.jpg 406w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland-768x1134.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland-1180x1743.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland-960x1418.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland.jpg 1300w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Closing Winterland, December 31, 1978. \u003ccite>(Michael Zagaris)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>On a wall capping the decade, attention is paid to Graham’s famous curatorial skill of throwing black artists like Martha Reeves & the Vandellas on the same bill as white headliners like the Jefferson Airplane. (“I never give the public what it wants,” Graham famously said, “I give the public what it \u003cem>should\u003c/em> want”; later he would pair Otis Redding with the Grateful Dead, Miles Davis with Neil Young, and Rahsaan Roland Kirk with Jethro Tull.) But still: these are posters and photos of others, no trace in sight of the exhibit’s illustrious namesake.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In the 1970s, with the opening of Winterland, Graham himself comes a little more into focus. A collage of letters from Grateful Dead fans using desperation, humor, flattery and more to beg for tickets to the band’s sold-out 1978 New Year’s Eve show is dotted with a constellation of “NO” written in red ink atop each one, a testament to Graham’s hardheadedness about admission policies. But among memorabilia from \u003cem>The Last Waltz\u003c/em>, one of Graham’s crowning achievements, there are seemingly unrelated items on display as well (photos from Bob Dylan’s 1975 ‘\u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4pkgq3p94yg\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Rolling Thunder Revue\u003c/a>’ — a tour Graham did not book — and a remnant of a Fender Stratocaster smashed by Jimi Hendrix at the Royal Albert Hall, a show Graham did not promote).\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11412210\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.Stones-1180x775.jpg\" alt=\"The Rolling Stones at Day on the Green, Oakland Coliseium, July 26, 1978.\" width=\"640\" height=\"420\" class=\"size-large wp-image-11412210\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.Stones-1180x775.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.Stones-400x263.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.Stones-800x525.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.Stones-768x504.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.Stones.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.Stones-960x631.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The Rolling Stones at Day on the Green, Oakland Coliseium, July 26, 1978. \u003ccite>(Baron Wolman)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>By the 1980s portion, there’s no doubt that rock is ballooning. Claiming to be distraught about the inflated egos of rock stars who began playing larger venues like Madison Square Garden, we find that Graham nonetheless booked nationwide tours for the Rolling Stones, the rock world’s largest prima donnas. In an attempt to do good, he also spearheaded the 1980s trend of the Giant Charity Rock Concert, organizing tours for Amnesty International, concerts for U.S.-Soviet peace, nuclear disarmament, Neil Young’s Bridge School, earthquake relief, concerts for AIDS relief and earthquake relief and, most famously, the U.S. portion of \u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IEzSiQwsaWg\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Live Aid\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Amidst the tumult of juggling large egos and worthy causes, we see the remains of Graham’s offices South of Market, which were firebombed just days after he took out an ad in the \u003cem>Chronicle\u003c/em> railing against President Reagan’s visit to Bitburg cemetery, the resting site of numerous officers in Hitler’s SS. The full-page ad, burned at the edges, is poignantly displayed just feet away from the charred remains of an office menorah.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eVeuDS0n3XI\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At the close of the ’80s — the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Madonna, and Metallica all beginning to take over the scene, and the unwelcoming behemoth of Graham’s Shoreline Amphitheater hosting most of his shows — we already know the tragedy that comes next. Alongside photos of Graham with his family over the years, the exhibit ends with Graham’s 1991 death in \u003ca href=\"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Graham_helicopter_crash\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">a helicopter crash\u003c/a> while returning home from a Huey Lewis & the News concert at the Concord Pavilion. Aerial photos of a subsequent blowout concert in Golden Gate Park commemorating his life show an estimated half a million people, a mere sliver of the population affected in one way or another by Graham’s presence in San Francisco.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11412214\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold-767x1180.jpg\" alt=\"Bill Graham with Melissa Gold, who along with pilot Steve Kahn died in a 1991 helicopter crash, pictured at the Orpheum Theatre in San Francisco, October 1991.\" width=\"640\" height=\"985\" class=\"size-large wp-image-11412214\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold-767x1180.jpg 767w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold-400x615.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold-390x600.jpg 390w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold-768x1182.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold-1180x1815.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold-960x1477.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold.jpg 1248w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Bill Graham with Melissa Gold, who along with pilot Steve Kahn died in a 1991 helicopter crash, pictured at the Orpheum Theatre in San Francisco, October 1991. \u003ccite>(Ken Friedman)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>It’s hard to say where Graham might have figured in to the industry today; despite his productions becoming larger than ever, he seemed to be simplifying his personal life, finally able to coexist with the internal engine always running at a high RPM. Whether he’d buy out other regional promotion companies and hire a nationwide staff, or whether he’d scale back to political and social work in the Bay Area, it’s impossible to say.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What \u003cem>is\u003c/em> evident is that Graham’s legacy in the industry is everywhere. Following his death, Bill Graham Presents was sold to SFX Promotions, which then sold the company to Clear Channel, which morphed into Live Nation, the biggest live-music corporation in the world (and, ironically, a media sponsor of this museum exhibition). Locally, many of Graham’s former employees can now be found running the Greek Theater, Slim’s, the Great American Music Hall, the Independent, the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium, and the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass and Outside Lands festivals in Golden Gate Park.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As for his personality? Slivers of it can be gleaned from the exhibit at the Contemporary Jewish Museum; a lonesome photo of Graham sitting alone in the upper deck of a stadium in Spain hints at his inner unease. In print, the oral history \u003cem>\u003ca href=\"http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/314649.Bill_Graham_Presents\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Bill Graham Presents\u003c/a>\u003c/em>, an autobiography by Graham and Robert Greenfield, remains the best single source (and is on sale in the museum’s gift shop), and the film \u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_SDWjfsy-GA\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">The Last Days of the Fillmore\u003c/a>\u003c/em> shows Graham arguing with managers on the phone and angrily throwing musicians out of his office.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But those looking for the true essence of Bill Graham need look no further than the stories in the air of this city, stories like the one my middle-finger–wielding friend relates — stories anyone who was around in Graham’s time and had an unforgettable interaction with the man himself can tell.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>‘Bill Graham and the Rock & Roll Revolution’ opens Thursday, March 17 and runs through July 5 at the Contemporary Jewish Museum in San Francisco. \u003ca href=\"http://www.thecjm.org/on-view/upcoming/bill-graham-and-the-rock-and-roll-revolution/about\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">More details and information here\u003c/a>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"excerpt": "A nostalgic reflection of rock impresario Bill Graham at the Contemporary Jewish Museum only chips at the surface of the man's torrential presence.",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>My friend Jeff once found himself stopped at a four-way intersection with another car in Berkeley. Making eye contact to establish which car should go first, the other driver looked over — and was immediately recognized, by my friend, as Bill Graham. Jeff, who came from the sixties counterculture and scorned Graham as a sellout, shot his middle finger up.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Bill Graham looked him dead in the eyes, shot his own middle finger up in response, and drove off.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11412206\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-1180x1180.jpg\" alt=\"Bill Graham in his Army fatigues, 1948. After escaping the holocaust and coming to America, Graham fought in the Korean War.\" width=\"640\" height=\"640\" class=\"size-large wp-image-11412206\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-1180x1180.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-400x400.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-600x600.jpg 600w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-768x768.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-960x960.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-32x32.jpg 32w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-64x64.jpg 64w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-96x96.jpg 96w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-128x128.jpg 128w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamArmy-75x75.jpg 75w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Bill Graham in his Army fatigues, 1948. After escaping the holocaust and coming to America, Graham fought in the Korean War. \u003ccite>(Collection of David and Alex Graham)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>There are hundreds of such stories. Love him or \u003ca href=\"https://pbs.twimg.com/media/CdtdJW3VIAEqF6T.jpg\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">hate him\u003c/a>, it would be impossible to contain the vast legacy of Bill Graham — the promoter, showman and quintessential rock impresario who shaped San Francisco’s 1960s rock scene and the rock concert industry at large — in a single museum exhibit. Harder still would be to contain the man’s headstrong, larger-than-life personality, which propelled him to coddle rock stars one minute and berate paying customers the next.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003ca href=\"http://www.thecjm.org/on-view/upcoming/bill-graham-and-the-rock-and-roll-revolution/about\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Bill Graham and the Rock & Roll Revolution\u003c/a>\u003c/em>, an exhibit that opens March 17 at the Contemporary Jewish Museum, accomplishes neither, because it wisely does not set out to try. Instead, the show — moving to its rightful home in San Francisco after a run last year in Los Angeles — is largely a nostalgic collection of photos, posters and memorabilia from concerts that Graham promoted in the ’60s, ’70s and ’80s, each live production growing larger and larger up to his sudden death in 1991.\u003c/p>\n\u003caside class=\"aligncenter\">\n\u003ch4>KQED Forum: Bill Graham and the Rock & Roll Revolution\u003c/h4>\n\u003cp>http://www.kqed.org/.stream/anon/radio/forum/2016/04/Forum20160419b.mp3\u003cbr>\n\u003c/p>\u003c/aside>\n\u003cp>It is at times hard to see Graham through all of it, and that’s probably the point: aside from introducing bands, wishing people a safe drive home while playing his customary exit music “Greensleeves” over the P.A. and his annual stint as “Father Time” at the Grateful Dead’s New Year’s Eve shows, he was at his most active (and, some would say, megalomaniacal) behind the scenes. That’s why those who ordinarily breeze through historical exhibits without listening to the audio tour should pull out their smartphones this time around: The \u003ca href=\"http://BillGrahamAudioTour.toursphere.com\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">voice of Graham\u003c/a>, a master storyteller, provides a vital personal complement.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11412207\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.FillmoreEast-1180x790.jpg\" alt=\"Bill Graham onstage before the final concert at Fillmore East, New York, January 1, 1971. \" width=\"640\" height=\"428\" class=\"size-large wp-image-11412207\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.FillmoreEast-1180x790.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.FillmoreEast-400x268.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.FillmoreEast-800x536.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.FillmoreEast-768x514.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.FillmoreEast.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.FillmoreEast-960x643.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Bill Graham onstage before the final concert at Fillmore East, New York, January 1, 1971. \u003ccite>(John Olson)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Graham’s is a classic American immigrant story — he fled the holocaust, came to the U.S., found a niche, filled it with gusto and transformed American culture. At the Contemporary Jewish Museum, the exhibit’s entryway contains photos, videos and text related to Graham’s early life both in Poland and the Bronx, his harrowing journey overseas and service in the Korean War.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But quickly, the show runs through \u003cem>Bill Graham’s Greatest Hits\u003c/em>. The early benefits for the Mime Troupe; the Trips Festival and then the world-famous Fillmore era (including the original Fillmore Ballroom, the Fillmore West on Market & Van Ness and the Fillmore East in New York) comprise much of the exhibit. Because this portion contains mostly now-famous posters by Rick Griffin and Stanley Mouse, or now-famous photos by Jim Marshall or Baron Wolman, it feels not only superfluous but woefully bereft of Graham himself. There’s Janis Joplin’s outfit, and Carlos Santana’s guitar. But aside from the cowbell on display that Graham played \u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jdFV3umJJJw\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">at Woodstock with Santana\u003c/a>, where are his own stories? His experiences? Why is he hardly in any of the photographs?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The answer, I’m sure, would be that this \u003cem>was\u003c/em> Graham: bringing talented people together, propelling them to be their best, in front of as many people as possible.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11412208\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland-799x1180.jpg\" alt=\"Closing Winterland, December 31, 1978. \" width=\"640\" height=\"945\" class=\"size-large wp-image-11412208\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland-799x1180.jpg 799w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland-400x591.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland-406x600.jpg 406w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland-768x1134.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland-1180x1743.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland-960x1418.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGrahamWinterland.jpg 1300w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Closing Winterland, December 31, 1978. \u003ccite>(Michael Zagaris)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>On a wall capping the decade, attention is paid to Graham’s famous curatorial skill of throwing black artists like Martha Reeves & the Vandellas on the same bill as white headliners like the Jefferson Airplane. (“I never give the public what it wants,” Graham famously said, “I give the public what it \u003cem>should\u003c/em> want”; later he would pair Otis Redding with the Grateful Dead, Miles Davis with Neil Young, and Rahsaan Roland Kirk with Jethro Tull.) But still: these are posters and photos of others, no trace in sight of the exhibit’s illustrious namesake.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In the 1970s, with the opening of Winterland, Graham himself comes a little more into focus. A collage of letters from Grateful Dead fans using desperation, humor, flattery and more to beg for tickets to the band’s sold-out 1978 New Year’s Eve show is dotted with a constellation of “NO” written in red ink atop each one, a testament to Graham’s hardheadedness about admission policies. But among memorabilia from \u003cem>The Last Waltz\u003c/em>, one of Graham’s crowning achievements, there are seemingly unrelated items on display as well (photos from Bob Dylan’s 1975 ‘\u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4pkgq3p94yg\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Rolling Thunder Revue\u003c/a>’ — a tour Graham did not book — and a remnant of a Fender Stratocaster smashed by Jimi Hendrix at the Royal Albert Hall, a show Graham did not promote).\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11412210\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.Stones-1180x775.jpg\" alt=\"The Rolling Stones at Day on the Green, Oakland Coliseium, July 26, 1978.\" width=\"640\" height=\"420\" class=\"size-large wp-image-11412210\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.Stones-1180x775.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.Stones-400x263.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.Stones-800x525.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.Stones-768x504.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.Stones.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.Stones-960x631.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The Rolling Stones at Day on the Green, Oakland Coliseium, July 26, 1978. \u003ccite>(Baron Wolman)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>By the 1980s portion, there’s no doubt that rock is ballooning. Claiming to be distraught about the inflated egos of rock stars who began playing larger venues like Madison Square Garden, we find that Graham nonetheless booked nationwide tours for the Rolling Stones, the rock world’s largest prima donnas. In an attempt to do good, he also spearheaded the 1980s trend of the Giant Charity Rock Concert, organizing tours for Amnesty International, concerts for U.S.-Soviet peace, nuclear disarmament, Neil Young’s Bridge School, earthquake relief, concerts for AIDS relief and earthquake relief and, most famously, the U.S. portion of \u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IEzSiQwsaWg\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Live Aid\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Amidst the tumult of juggling large egos and worthy causes, we see the remains of Graham’s offices South of Market, which were firebombed just days after he took out an ad in the \u003cem>Chronicle\u003c/em> railing against President Reagan’s visit to Bitburg cemetery, the resting site of numerous officers in Hitler’s SS. The full-page ad, burned at the edges, is poignantly displayed just feet away from the charred remains of an office menorah.\u003c/p>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__embedYoutube'>\n \u003cspan class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__embedYoutubeInside'>\n \u003ciframe\n loading='lazy'\n class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__youtubePlayer'\n type='text/html'\n src='//www.youtube.com/embed/eVeuDS0n3XI'\n title='//www.youtube.com/embed/eVeuDS0n3XI'\n allowfullscreen='true'\n style='border:0;'>\u003c/iframe>\n \u003c/span>\n \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cp>At the close of the ’80s — the Red Hot Chili Peppers, Madonna, and Metallica all beginning to take over the scene, and the unwelcoming behemoth of Graham’s Shoreline Amphitheater hosting most of his shows — we already know the tragedy that comes next. Alongside photos of Graham with his family over the years, the exhibit ends with Graham’s 1991 death in \u003ca href=\"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Graham_helicopter_crash\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">a helicopter crash\u003c/a> while returning home from a Huey Lewis & the News concert at the Concord Pavilion. Aerial photos of a subsequent blowout concert in Golden Gate Park commemorating his life show an estimated half a million people, a mere sliver of the population affected in one way or another by Graham’s presence in San Francisco.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11412214\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 640px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold-767x1180.jpg\" alt=\"Bill Graham with Melissa Gold, who along with pilot Steve Kahn died in a 1991 helicopter crash, pictured at the Orpheum Theatre in San Francisco, October 1991.\" width=\"640\" height=\"985\" class=\"size-large wp-image-11412214\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold-767x1180.jpg 767w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold-400x615.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold-390x600.jpg 390w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold-768x1182.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold-1180x1815.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold-960x1477.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/BillGraham.MelissaGold.jpg 1248w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Bill Graham with Melissa Gold, who along with pilot Steve Kahn died in a 1991 helicopter crash, pictured at the Orpheum Theatre in San Francisco, October 1991. \u003ccite>(Ken Friedman)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>It’s hard to say where Graham might have figured in to the industry today; despite his productions becoming larger than ever, he seemed to be simplifying his personal life, finally able to coexist with the internal engine always running at a high RPM. Whether he’d buy out other regional promotion companies and hire a nationwide staff, or whether he’d scale back to political and social work in the Bay Area, it’s impossible to say.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What \u003cem>is\u003c/em> evident is that Graham’s legacy in the industry is everywhere. Following his death, Bill Graham Presents was sold to SFX Promotions, which then sold the company to Clear Channel, which morphed into Live Nation, the biggest live-music corporation in the world (and, ironically, a media sponsor of this museum exhibition). Locally, many of Graham’s former employees can now be found running the Greek Theater, Slim’s, the Great American Music Hall, the Independent, the Bill Graham Civic Auditorium, and the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass and Outside Lands festivals in Golden Gate Park.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As for his personality? Slivers of it can be gleaned from the exhibit at the Contemporary Jewish Museum; a lonesome photo of Graham sitting alone in the upper deck of a stadium in Spain hints at his inner unease. In print, the oral history \u003cem>\u003ca href=\"http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/314649.Bill_Graham_Presents\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Bill Graham Presents\u003c/a>\u003c/em>, an autobiography by Graham and Robert Greenfield, remains the best single source (and is on sale in the museum’s gift shop), and the film \u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_SDWjfsy-GA\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">The Last Days of the Fillmore\u003c/a>\u003c/em> shows Graham arguing with managers on the phone and angrily throwing musicians out of his office.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But those looking for the true essence of Bill Graham need look no further than the stories in the air of this city, stories like the one my middle-finger–wielding friend relates — stories anyone who was around in Graham’s time and had an unforgettable interaction with the man himself can tell.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp> \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>‘Bill Graham and the Rock & Roll Revolution’ opens Thursday, March 17 and runs through July 5 at the Contemporary Jewish Museum in San Francisco. \u003ca href=\"http://www.thecjm.org/on-view/upcoming/bill-graham-and-the-rock-and-roll-revolution/about\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">More details and information here\u003c/a>.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"title": "Beautiful But Safe Oscar de la Renta 'Retrospective' at de Young",
"headTitle": "Beautiful But Safe Oscar de la Renta ‘Retrospective’ at de Young | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Over his six-decade-long career the late fashion designer Oscar de la Renta never stopped asking: What do women want to wear? His women — first ladies, heiresses, philanthropists and, increasingly toward the end of his career, celebrities — wanted clothing that was beautiful and luxurious yet tasteful and forgiving. They wanted clothing that fit their lives, which so often meant clothing reflective of their position in society. And he consistently delivered, both on the runway and off; the Dominican Republic-born designer’s reputation as the last of a certain breed of old-world gentleman remained as unimpeachable as the dependability of his output.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11409271\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-114250401_1200.jpg\" alt=\"Oscar de la Renta goes over final details on a model's outfit prior to his Oscar de la Renta 2012 Resort Collection show.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"800\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11409271\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-114250401_1200.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-114250401_1200-400x267.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-114250401_1200-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-114250401_1200-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-114250401_1200-1180x787.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-114250401_1200-960x640.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Oscar de la Renta goes over final details on a model’s outfit prior to his Oscar de la Renta 2012 Resort Collection show. \u003ccite>(Photo: JP Yim/Getty Images)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Oscar de la Renta: The Retrospective\u003c/em>, on view at the de Young Museum through May 30, 2016, is a testament to this consistency, to the combination of technical skill, unerring good taste, and business savvy which made “Oscar” the go-to name for women interested in a certain mode of power dressing, one which purred rather than roared. As such, the exhibition feels more like one big trunk show than a critical appraisal. It is hard to tell if this is solely the fault of lax curation or simply a reflection of de la Renta’s aesthetic. And as much as I appreciate glittering eye candy, I left asking a different question: What do we want from textiles exhibitions?\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11409270\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/4dresses.jpg\" alt=\"Left to right: Oscar de la Renta evening ensemble ca. 1978; Oscar de la Renta caftan Spring 1982; Oscar de la Renta for Pierre Balmain evening dress Autumn/Winter 1999–2000; Oscar de la Renta dress 1963–1965.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"446\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11409270\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/4dresses.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/4dresses-400x149.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/4dresses-800x297.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/4dresses-768x285.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/4dresses-1180x439.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/4dresses-960x357.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Left to right: Oscar de la Renta evening ensemble ca. 1978; Oscar de la Renta caftan Spring 1982; Oscar de la Renta for Pierre Balmain evening dress Autumn/Winter 1999–2000; Oscar de la Renta dress 1963–1965. \u003ccite>(Photos: Courtesy the Musuem at FIT; Erin Burns, Courtesy of the Kent State University Museum; Courtesy of Pierre Balmain; Courtesy of Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Like his contemporaries Valentino Garavani, Karl Lagerfeld, and the late Yves Saint Laurent, de la Renta was of the last generation of designers to work directly under the masters — Fath, Dior, Balenciaga, Balmain — of couture’s golden age. He sketched for Balenciaga and was on the design team at Lanvin-Costello, a formative education that shows in his earliest ready-to-wear designs soon after he moved to America. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Case in point: A clear vinyl raincoat for Jane Derby’s Resort ’66 collection is covered in swirls and clusters of rhinestones, an embellishment worthy of an evening cape. His training also shows in simpler pieces, such as the three jewel tone, bias cut nylon and silk gowns that helped establish de la Renta’s then-fledgling namesake line when they were worn at the now-infamous \u003ca href=\"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Battle_of_Versailles_Fashion_Show\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Battle of Versailles fashion show\u003c/a> in 1973.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11409135\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Versaille1200.jpg\" alt=\"Oscar de la Renta fashion show at the Battle of Versailles, November 28, 1973.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"816\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11409135\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Versaille1200.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Versaille1200-400x272.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Versaille1200-800x544.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Versaille1200-768x522.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Versaille1200-1180x802.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Versaille1200-960x653.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Oscar de la Renta fashion show at the Battle of Versailles, November 28, 1973. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Oscar de la Renta Archive)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Indeed, there are echoes of Balenciaga, in particular, in de la Renta’s deft handling of fabric (de la Renta, in fact, took the lead in organizing the \u003cem>\u003ca href=\"http://spanishinstitute.org/exhibitions-programming/exhibitions/balenciaga-spanish-master\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Balenciaga: Spanish Master\u003c/a>\u003c/em> exhibition at New York’s Queen Sofía Spanish Institute in 2010, an expanded version of which later traveled to the de Young). \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A de la Renta-designed saffron yellow evening cape with delicately gathered balloon sleeves, from Balmain’s autumn/winter 1993-94 collection, recalls the grand Balenciaga coat Countess Mona von Bismarck wore in the famous 1955 photograph by Cecil Beaton. The cape is on display in a gallery of other Spanish-inspired designs, each flamenco flounce and ruched yard of silk an example of de la Renta fulfilling Balenciaga’s famous quip that a designer must make a ruffle “become intelligent.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11409134\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-50344532_1200.jpg\" alt=\"Baroness Aino Bodisco, looking on as Beatrice Lodge is being fitted by fashion designer Oscar de la Renta in her debutante dress.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"830\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11409134\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-50344532_1200.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-50344532_1200-400x277.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-50344532_1200-800x553.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-50344532_1200-768x531.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-50344532_1200-1180x816.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-50344532_1200-960x664.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Baroness Aino Bodisco, looking on as Beatrice Lodge is being fitted by fashion designer Oscar de la Renta in her debutante dress. \u003ccite>(Photo: Nina Leen/The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Certainly, de la Renta’s tenure at the Paris-based couture house of Balmain, where he was head designer 1992-2002, saw the fullest realization of his intelligence, giving him access to materials and resources to realize his creations at an entirely different level of luxury and sumptuousness. His use of sable alone, not to mention the intricacy of the embroidery and fineness of the silks in many of these pieces, would make a Catherine the Great of any socialite who wore them.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But unlike Balenciaga, there are no radical proposals here about volume or form, no new ways of seeing how fabric can be manipulated around and for a moving body. De la Renta is revealed to be a great synthesizer, borrowing blossoming shapes from Dior and Charles James for his dramatic ball gowns and who, following Saint Laurent, looked to China and Russia for inspiration. But he did so without the former two designers’ architectural bravura, and certainly without Saint Laurent’s penchant for glamorous provocation.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11409268\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/FirstLadies1200.jpg\" alt=\"Left: Oscar de la Renta evening ensemble, 2002; On loan courtesy of Secretary Hillary Rodham Clinton. Right: Oscar de la Renta day ensemble, 2005; Mrs. Laura Bush & George W. Bush Presidential Library & Museum.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"890\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11409268\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/FirstLadies1200.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/FirstLadies1200-400x297.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/FirstLadies1200-800x593.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/FirstLadies1200-768x570.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/FirstLadies1200-1180x875.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/FirstLadies1200-960x712.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Left: Oscar de la Renta evening ensemble, 2002; On loan courtesy of Secretary Hillary Rodham Clinton. Right: Oscar de la Renta day ensemble, 2005; Mrs. Laura Bush & George W. Bush Presidential Library & Museum. \u003ccite>(Left: Richard Corkery/Getty Images; Right: Doug Mills-Pool/Getty Images)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Indeed, there is nothing provocative about de la Renta’s designs. If a contestant on \u003cem>Ru Paul’s Drag Race\u003c/em> wore one during the runway challenge, she would undoubtedly be called beautiful, but she would neither rise to the top nor fall to the bottom. In the parlance of the television show, she would be “safe” from elimination. But beautiful and safe is what de la Renta’s customers wanted and what he gave them.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Beautiful but safe could also describe \u003cem>Oscar de la Renta: The Retrospective\u003c/em>. A fashion exhibition shouldn’t just be an opportunity to window-shop the closets of the rich, the powerful or the famous. There is a story that could be told here about material culture, the consolidation of wealth, of status and self-presentation, but that would require a criticality toward the objects on display that is nowhere to be found. I kept thinking about Hilary Clinton’s \u003ca href=\"http://www.motherjones.com/politics/2016/03/clinton-hiv-apology-medium\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">now-infamous eulogy of the late Nancy Reagan\u003c/a>, and of the continued influence of money in politics, as I stood before clothing de la Renta had designed, decades apart, for both former first ladies. \u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11409143\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-124904792_master1200.jpg\" alt=\"A model walks the runway at the Oscar de laa Renta Spring 2012 fashion show; Nicki Minaj at the 2011 American Music Awards.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"538\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11409143\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-124904792_master1200.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-124904792_master1200-400x179.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-124904792_master1200-800x359.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-124904792_master1200-768x344.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-124904792_master1200-1180x529.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-124904792_master1200-960x430.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A model walks the runway at the Oscar de laa Renta Spring 2012 fashion show; Nicki Minaj at the 2011 American Music Awards. \u003ccite>(Photo: (L) Jemal Countess/Getty Images; (R) Jason Merritt/Getty Images)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Such concerns are not part of the exhibition’s M.O. Emblematic is its final gallery, where an \u003cem>US Weekly\u003c/em> spread comes to life with footage of celebs on various red carpets displayed on a Jumbotron-sized screen next to the very gowns they are wearing. The display is a testament to the popular hold a certain dream of fashion still exerts on a public obsessed with and shaped by media, one that this retrospective’s organizers seem no less captive to.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>De la Renta knew how to spin that dream into an extremely successful business, even in fashion’s current accelerated age. That \u003cem>Oscar de la Renta: The Retrospective\u003c/em> follows suit is both unsurprising and disappointing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003cstrong>Oscar de la Renta: The Retrospective\u003c/strong> is on view at the de Young in San Francisco through May 30, 2016. Visit \u003ca href=\"http://deyoung.famsf.org/exhibitions/oscar-de-la-renta-retrospective\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">deyoung.famsf.org\u003c/a> for tickets and more information.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Over his six-decade-long career the late fashion designer Oscar de la Renta never stopped asking: What do women want to wear? His women — first ladies, heiresses, philanthropists and, increasingly toward the end of his career, celebrities — wanted clothing that was beautiful and luxurious yet tasteful and forgiving. They wanted clothing that fit their lives, which so often meant clothing reflective of their position in society. And he consistently delivered, both on the runway and off; the Dominican Republic-born designer’s reputation as the last of a certain breed of old-world gentleman remained as unimpeachable as the dependability of his output.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11409271\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-114250401_1200.jpg\" alt=\"Oscar de la Renta goes over final details on a model's outfit prior to his Oscar de la Renta 2012 Resort Collection show.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"800\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11409271\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-114250401_1200.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-114250401_1200-400x267.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-114250401_1200-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-114250401_1200-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-114250401_1200-1180x787.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-114250401_1200-960x640.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Oscar de la Renta goes over final details on a model’s outfit prior to his Oscar de la Renta 2012 Resort Collection show. \u003ccite>(Photo: JP Yim/Getty Images)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Oscar de la Renta: The Retrospective\u003c/em>, on view at the de Young Museum through May 30, 2016, is a testament to this consistency, to the combination of technical skill, unerring good taste, and business savvy which made “Oscar” the go-to name for women interested in a certain mode of power dressing, one which purred rather than roared. As such, the exhibition feels more like one big trunk show than a critical appraisal. It is hard to tell if this is solely the fault of lax curation or simply a reflection of de la Renta’s aesthetic. And as much as I appreciate glittering eye candy, I left asking a different question: What do we want from textiles exhibitions?\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11409270\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/4dresses.jpg\" alt=\"Left to right: Oscar de la Renta evening ensemble ca. 1978; Oscar de la Renta caftan Spring 1982; Oscar de la Renta for Pierre Balmain evening dress Autumn/Winter 1999–2000; Oscar de la Renta dress 1963–1965.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"446\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11409270\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/4dresses.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/4dresses-400x149.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/4dresses-800x297.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/4dresses-768x285.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/4dresses-1180x439.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/4dresses-960x357.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Left to right: Oscar de la Renta evening ensemble ca. 1978; Oscar de la Renta caftan Spring 1982; Oscar de la Renta for Pierre Balmain evening dress Autumn/Winter 1999–2000; Oscar de la Renta dress 1963–1965. \u003ccite>(Photos: Courtesy the Musuem at FIT; Erin Burns, Courtesy of the Kent State University Museum; Courtesy of Pierre Balmain; Courtesy of Fine Arts Museums of San Francisco)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Like his contemporaries Valentino Garavani, Karl Lagerfeld, and the late Yves Saint Laurent, de la Renta was of the last generation of designers to work directly under the masters — Fath, Dior, Balenciaga, Balmain — of couture’s golden age. He sketched for Balenciaga and was on the design team at Lanvin-Costello, a formative education that shows in his earliest ready-to-wear designs soon after he moved to America. \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Case in point: A clear vinyl raincoat for Jane Derby’s Resort ’66 collection is covered in swirls and clusters of rhinestones, an embellishment worthy of an evening cape. His training also shows in simpler pieces, such as the three jewel tone, bias cut nylon and silk gowns that helped establish de la Renta’s then-fledgling namesake line when they were worn at the now-infamous \u003ca href=\"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Battle_of_Versailles_Fashion_Show\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Battle of Versailles fashion show\u003c/a> in 1973.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11409135\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Versaille1200.jpg\" alt=\"Oscar de la Renta fashion show at the Battle of Versailles, November 28, 1973.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"816\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11409135\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Versaille1200.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Versaille1200-400x272.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Versaille1200-800x544.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Versaille1200-768x522.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Versaille1200-1180x802.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Versaille1200-960x653.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Oscar de la Renta fashion show at the Battle of Versailles, November 28, 1973. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of Oscar de la Renta Archive)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Indeed, there are echoes of Balenciaga, in particular, in de la Renta’s deft handling of fabric (de la Renta, in fact, took the lead in organizing the \u003cem>\u003ca href=\"http://spanishinstitute.org/exhibitions-programming/exhibitions/balenciaga-spanish-master\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Balenciaga: Spanish Master\u003c/a>\u003c/em> exhibition at New York’s Queen Sofía Spanish Institute in 2010, an expanded version of which later traveled to the de Young). \u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>A de la Renta-designed saffron yellow evening cape with delicately gathered balloon sleeves, from Balmain’s autumn/winter 1993-94 collection, recalls the grand Balenciaga coat Countess Mona von Bismarck wore in the famous 1955 photograph by Cecil Beaton. The cape is on display in a gallery of other Spanish-inspired designs, each flamenco flounce and ruched yard of silk an example of de la Renta fulfilling Balenciaga’s famous quip that a designer must make a ruffle “become intelligent.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11409134\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-50344532_1200.jpg\" alt=\"Baroness Aino Bodisco, looking on as Beatrice Lodge is being fitted by fashion designer Oscar de la Renta in her debutante dress.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"830\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11409134\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-50344532_1200.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-50344532_1200-400x277.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-50344532_1200-800x553.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-50344532_1200-768x531.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-50344532_1200-1180x816.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-50344532_1200-960x664.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Baroness Aino Bodisco, looking on as Beatrice Lodge is being fitted by fashion designer Oscar de la Renta in her debutante dress. \u003ccite>(Photo: Nina Leen/The LIFE Picture Collection/Getty Images)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Certainly, de la Renta’s tenure at the Paris-based couture house of Balmain, where he was head designer 1992-2002, saw the fullest realization of his intelligence, giving him access to materials and resources to realize his creations at an entirely different level of luxury and sumptuousness. His use of sable alone, not to mention the intricacy of the embroidery and fineness of the silks in many of these pieces, would make a Catherine the Great of any socialite who wore them.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But unlike Balenciaga, there are no radical proposals here about volume or form, no new ways of seeing how fabric can be manipulated around and for a moving body. De la Renta is revealed to be a great synthesizer, borrowing blossoming shapes from Dior and Charles James for his dramatic ball gowns and who, following Saint Laurent, looked to China and Russia for inspiration. But he did so without the former two designers’ architectural bravura, and certainly without Saint Laurent’s penchant for glamorous provocation.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11409268\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/FirstLadies1200.jpg\" alt=\"Left: Oscar de la Renta evening ensemble, 2002; On loan courtesy of Secretary Hillary Rodham Clinton. Right: Oscar de la Renta day ensemble, 2005; Mrs. Laura Bush & George W. Bush Presidential Library & Museum.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"890\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11409268\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/FirstLadies1200.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/FirstLadies1200-400x297.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/FirstLadies1200-800x593.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/FirstLadies1200-768x570.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/FirstLadies1200-1180x875.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/FirstLadies1200-960x712.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Left: Oscar de la Renta evening ensemble, 2002; On loan courtesy of Secretary Hillary Rodham Clinton. Right: Oscar de la Renta day ensemble, 2005; Mrs. Laura Bush & George W. Bush Presidential Library & Museum. \u003ccite>(Left: Richard Corkery/Getty Images; Right: Doug Mills-Pool/Getty Images)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Indeed, there is nothing provocative about de la Renta’s designs. If a contestant on \u003cem>Ru Paul’s Drag Race\u003c/em> wore one during the runway challenge, she would undoubtedly be called beautiful, but she would neither rise to the top nor fall to the bottom. In the parlance of the television show, she would be “safe” from elimination. But beautiful and safe is what de la Renta’s customers wanted and what he gave them.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Beautiful but safe could also describe \u003cem>Oscar de la Renta: The Retrospective\u003c/em>. A fashion exhibition shouldn’t just be an opportunity to window-shop the closets of the rich, the powerful or the famous. There is a story that could be told here about material culture, the consolidation of wealth, of status and self-presentation, but that would require a criticality toward the objects on display that is nowhere to be found. I kept thinking about Hilary Clinton’s \u003ca href=\"http://www.motherjones.com/politics/2016/03/clinton-hiv-apology-medium\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">now-infamous eulogy of the late Nancy Reagan\u003c/a>, and of the continued influence of money in politics, as I stood before clothing de la Renta had designed, decades apart, for both former first ladies. \u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11409143\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-124904792_master1200.jpg\" alt=\"A model walks the runway at the Oscar de laa Renta Spring 2012 fashion show; Nicki Minaj at the 2011 American Music Awards.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"538\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11409143\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-124904792_master1200.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-124904792_master1200-400x179.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-124904792_master1200-800x359.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-124904792_master1200-768x344.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-124904792_master1200-1180x529.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/GettyImages-124904792_master1200-960x430.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A model walks the runway at the Oscar de laa Renta Spring 2012 fashion show; Nicki Minaj at the 2011 American Music Awards. \u003ccite>(Photo: (L) Jemal Countess/Getty Images; (R) Jason Merritt/Getty Images)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Such concerns are not part of the exhibition’s M.O. Emblematic is its final gallery, where an \u003cem>US Weekly\u003c/em> spread comes to life with footage of celebs on various red carpets displayed on a Jumbotron-sized screen next to the very gowns they are wearing. The display is a testament to the popular hold a certain dream of fashion still exerts on a public obsessed with and shaped by media, one that this retrospective’s organizers seem no less captive to.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>De la Renta knew how to spin that dream into an extremely successful business, even in fashion’s current accelerated age. That \u003cem>Oscar de la Renta: The Retrospective\u003c/em> follows suit is both unsurprising and disappointing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>\u003cstrong>Oscar de la Renta: The Retrospective\u003c/strong> is on view at the de Young in San Francisco through May 30, 2016. Visit \u003ca href=\"http://deyoung.famsf.org/exhibitions/oscar-de-la-renta-retrospective\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">deyoung.famsf.org\u003c/a> for tickets and more information.\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"title": "Live Review: Springsteen's Awkward Revisionism of 'The River' in Oakland",
"headTitle": "Live Review: Springsteen’s Awkward Revisionism of ‘The River’ in Oakland | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Bruce Springsteen decided to do a strange thing last year. He’d go out on his first tour in three years, he announced, and instead of a setlist culled from a huge back catalog, he’d play in its entirety \u003cem>The River\u003c/em>, an album that maybe 10 percent of his fan base would pick as the one to hear live, beginning to end. (Only two songs from \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> cracked the top 35 Springsteen songs in \u003ca href=\"http://www.nj.com/springsteen/index.ssf/2013/01/whats_no_1_bruce_springsteen_f.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">a recent fan poll\u003c/a>.)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At the time, Springsteen \u003ca href=\"http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/bruce-springsteen-on-reviving-the-river-new-solo-lp-20160203\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">explained this decision\u003c/a> by saying, essentially, that he wanted to get the band on the road before a planned solo tour, and since he had a new box set of \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> just out — and since he’d always imagined \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> as a rollicking party reflecting the pacing of the band’s live show — well, why not?\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11406296\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11406296\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River.jpg\" alt=\"The cover of Bruce Springsteen's 1980 album 'The River,' which was played in its entirety at the Oracle Arena on March 13, 2016.\" width=\"800\" height=\"800\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-400x400.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-600x600.jpg 600w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-768x768.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-32x32.jpg 32w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-64x64.jpg 64w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-96x96.jpg 96w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-128x128.jpg 128w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-75x75.jpg 75w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The cover of Bruce Springsteen’s 1980 album ‘The River,’ which was played in its entirety at the Oracle Arena on March 13, 2016.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>But by the time The Boss got to Oakland last night, two months into ‘The River’ tour, his reasons had grown more serious-minded. I went to the show eager to see if I’d have a different reaction to the album live, if I’d see a different version of myself reflected in its songs or if I could appreciate the album as a whole in a new light. But from the onset, Springsteen himself was all too eager to provide us with a new framework.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“The early records were kind of outsider records. We were all part of a marginal community on the streets of Asbury Park,” he said, before the album’s first song. “But by the time I got to \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> I was trying to find my way inside. I’d taken notice of the things that bound people to their lives — the work they choose, their partners, their families, their commitments. I wanted to imagine and I wanted to write about those things, and I figured if I could write about ’em I’d get a little closer to havin’ ’em in my own life. I wanted to make a big record. A record that felt like life.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This meaningful intro speech of Springsteen’s — about making the album to “get a little closer to the answers” — felt like awkward revisionism. \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> is basically a big, commercial-sounding double album with a lot of filler, containing exactly three types of songs: catchy 1-4-5 rockers, dripping ballads, and a few roadhouse ramblers. Why paint it as an important universal-theme album? Why try to make \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> step in line with its weighty predecessors, \u003cem>Born to Run\u003c/em> and \u003cem>Darkness on the Edge of Town\u003c/em>?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rHq9IEq5FQA\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I tried to roll with it. For the album’s first seven songs, all of them great, it wasn’t hard. Springsteen is a force of nature, and to see the guy at age 66 crowdsurfing across a crowd singing along loudly to “Hungry Heart” is to see the triumph of the human spirit. I’ve seen Springsteen five times in the last 17 years, and he hasn’t lost one drop of energy or enthusiasm for what he does, night after night, for three or four hours at a time.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But during “Crush On You,” a light pop tune if ever there was one, I started to realize we were in for 75 more minutes of songs that weren’t “Jungleland,” “Lost in the Flood,” “Wrecking Ball” or “Incident on 57th Street.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Springsteen might have known it too. He very nearly apologized for “I Wanna Marry You,” one of the dippiest songs in his catalog, explaining that when he wrote it he should have known better than to expect that love has no consequences or pain. He sang a dramatic, gothic rendering of “Point Blank” in an attempt to keep people’s attention, and “I’m a Rocker” got the full 3am Stone Pony treatment it deserves, with Springsteen running through the crowd and whipping the band into a frenzy.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11406291\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 600px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11406291\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/SPringsteen.Oak_.jpg\" alt=\"Fans at Bruce Springsteen's show at Oracle Arena, March 13, 2016.\" width=\"600\" height=\"766\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/SPringsteen.Oak_.jpg 600w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/SPringsteen.Oak_-400x511.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/SPringsteen.Oak_-470x600.jpg 470w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 600px) 100vw, 600px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Fans at Bruce Springsteen’s show at Oracle Arena, March 13, 2016. \u003ccite>(Gabe Meline)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>But introducing “Stolen Car,” Springsteen claimed it was one of the first songs he wrote about men and women, that asked “if you lose your love, do you lose yourself?” Am I crazy, or is there that same desperate pathos in “Backstreets”? In “Something in the Night”?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Which brings me back to his intro speech. Springsteen can say that \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> was his first stab at writing about big universal themes in an attempt to discover his place in the world, but whether he knows it or not, he’d already done that several times over by 1980, and in much more interesting and detailed ways. Those \u003ca href=\"http://www.springsteenlyrics.com/lyrics.php?song=4thofjulyasburypark\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">songs about his marginal life\u003c/a> in Asbury Park \u003cem>were\u003c/em> songs about big universal themes. There’s something about writing “big,” about writing for “everybody,” that dilutes its impact. Ask yourself, which line do you remember more: “You sit and wonder just who’s gonna stop the rain / who’ll ease the sadness, who’s gonna quiet the pain,” or “Did you hear the cops finally busted Madame Marie for tellin’ fortunes better than they do”?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>By the time the album ended with its three back-to-back-to-back slow, sleepy ballads, Springsteen chimed in with another speech about how “\u003cem>The River\u003c/em> was about time… time slipping away, and when you enter the adult life, you realize the clock starts ticking,” yadda yadda yadda. A noticeable stir came over the people around me as the arena all seemed to realize the same thing: \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> was over, and the real stuff could begin.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CLUFioa6zIs\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>And for the next hour and 15 minutes, Springsteen crammed in \u003ca href=\"http://www.setlist.fm/setlist/bruce-springsteen/2016/oracle-arena-oakland-ca-6bf0da1e.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">14 more songs\u003c/a> — mostly dependable ones he’s accustomed to playing, but the unpredictability felt refreshing. He took a sign request for “Growin’ Up” and called the kid on stage to sing with him. He got schooled by a teenage girl on \u003ca href=\"https://twitter.com/madirwebb/status/709266064580812800\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">how to dab\u003c/a> for “Dancing in the Dark.” He had even the Oracle ushers, old-timers who looked like they’ve worked there since 1988, dancing in the aisles to “Shout.” You never knew what he was going to do next, and he proved, yet again, why people like me will pay $150 plus taxes and fees even when he’s playing a lesser-liked album in its entirety.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Let’s just hope next time around, it’s \u003cem>The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle\u003c/em>.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Bruce Springsteen decided to do a strange thing last year. He’d go out on his first tour in three years, he announced, and instead of a setlist culled from a huge back catalog, he’d play in its entirety \u003cem>The River\u003c/em>, an album that maybe 10 percent of his fan base would pick as the one to hear live, beginning to end. (Only two songs from \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> cracked the top 35 Springsteen songs in \u003ca href=\"http://www.nj.com/springsteen/index.ssf/2013/01/whats_no_1_bruce_springsteen_f.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">a recent fan poll\u003c/a>.)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>At the time, Springsteen \u003ca href=\"http://www.rollingstone.com/music/news/bruce-springsteen-on-reviving-the-river-new-solo-lp-20160203\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">explained this decision\u003c/a> by saying, essentially, that he wanted to get the band on the road before a planned solo tour, and since he had a new box set of \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> just out — and since he’d always imagined \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> as a rollicking party reflecting the pacing of the band’s live show — well, why not?\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11406296\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11406296\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River.jpg\" alt=\"The cover of Bruce Springsteen's 1980 album 'The River,' which was played in its entirety at the Oracle Arena on March 13, 2016.\" width=\"800\" height=\"800\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-400x400.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-600x600.jpg 600w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-768x768.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-32x32.jpg 32w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-64x64.jpg 64w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-96x96.jpg 96w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-128x128.jpg 128w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Bruce-Springsteen-River-75x75.jpg 75w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The cover of Bruce Springsteen’s 1980 album ‘The River,’ which was played in its entirety at the Oracle Arena on March 13, 2016.\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>But by the time The Boss got to Oakland last night, two months into ‘The River’ tour, his reasons had grown more serious-minded. I went to the show eager to see if I’d have a different reaction to the album live, if I’d see a different version of myself reflected in its songs or if I could appreciate the album as a whole in a new light. But from the onset, Springsteen himself was all too eager to provide us with a new framework.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“The early records were kind of outsider records. We were all part of a marginal community on the streets of Asbury Park,” he said, before the album’s first song. “But by the time I got to \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> I was trying to find my way inside. I’d taken notice of the things that bound people to their lives — the work they choose, their partners, their families, their commitments. I wanted to imagine and I wanted to write about those things, and I figured if I could write about ’em I’d get a little closer to havin’ ’em in my own life. I wanted to make a big record. A record that felt like life.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This meaningful intro speech of Springsteen’s — about making the album to “get a little closer to the answers” — felt like awkward revisionism. \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> is basically a big, commercial-sounding double album with a lot of filler, containing exactly three types of songs: catchy 1-4-5 rockers, dripping ballads, and a few roadhouse ramblers. Why paint it as an important universal-theme album? Why try to make \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> step in line with its weighty predecessors, \u003cem>Born to Run\u003c/em> and \u003cem>Darkness on the Edge of Town\u003c/em>?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__embedYoutube'>\n \u003cspan class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__embedYoutubeInside'>\n \u003ciframe\n loading='lazy'\n class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__youtubePlayer'\n type='text/html'\n src='//www.youtube.com/embed/rHq9IEq5FQA'\n title='//www.youtube.com/embed/rHq9IEq5FQA'\n allowfullscreen='true'\n style='border:0;'>\u003c/iframe>\n \u003c/span>\n \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cp>I tried to roll with it. For the album’s first seven songs, all of them great, it wasn’t hard. Springsteen is a force of nature, and to see the guy at age 66 crowdsurfing across a crowd singing along loudly to “Hungry Heart” is to see the triumph of the human spirit. I’ve seen Springsteen five times in the last 17 years, and he hasn’t lost one drop of energy or enthusiasm for what he does, night after night, for three or four hours at a time.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But during “Crush On You,” a light pop tune if ever there was one, I started to realize we were in for 75 more minutes of songs that weren’t “Jungleland,” “Lost in the Flood,” “Wrecking Ball” or “Incident on 57th Street.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Springsteen might have known it too. He very nearly apologized for “I Wanna Marry You,” one of the dippiest songs in his catalog, explaining that when he wrote it he should have known better than to expect that love has no consequences or pain. He sang a dramatic, gothic rendering of “Point Blank” in an attempt to keep people’s attention, and “I’m a Rocker” got the full 3am Stone Pony treatment it deserves, with Springsteen running through the crowd and whipping the band into a frenzy.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11406291\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 600px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11406291\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/SPringsteen.Oak_.jpg\" alt=\"Fans at Bruce Springsteen's show at Oracle Arena, March 13, 2016.\" width=\"600\" height=\"766\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/SPringsteen.Oak_.jpg 600w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/SPringsteen.Oak_-400x511.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/SPringsteen.Oak_-470x600.jpg 470w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 600px) 100vw, 600px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Fans at Bruce Springsteen’s show at Oracle Arena, March 13, 2016. \u003ccite>(Gabe Meline)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>But introducing “Stolen Car,” Springsteen claimed it was one of the first songs he wrote about men and women, that asked “if you lose your love, do you lose yourself?” Am I crazy, or is there that same desperate pathos in “Backstreets”? In “Something in the Night”?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Which brings me back to his intro speech. Springsteen can say that \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> was his first stab at writing about big universal themes in an attempt to discover his place in the world, but whether he knows it or not, he’d already done that several times over by 1980, and in much more interesting and detailed ways. Those \u003ca href=\"http://www.springsteenlyrics.com/lyrics.php?song=4thofjulyasburypark\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">songs about his marginal life\u003c/a> in Asbury Park \u003cem>were\u003c/em> songs about big universal themes. There’s something about writing “big,” about writing for “everybody,” that dilutes its impact. Ask yourself, which line do you remember more: “You sit and wonder just who’s gonna stop the rain / who’ll ease the sadness, who’s gonna quiet the pain,” or “Did you hear the cops finally busted Madame Marie for tellin’ fortunes better than they do”?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>By the time the album ended with its three back-to-back-to-back slow, sleepy ballads, Springsteen chimed in with another speech about how “\u003cem>The River\u003c/em> was about time… time slipping away, and when you enter the adult life, you realize the clock starts ticking,” yadda yadda yadda. A noticeable stir came over the people around me as the arena all seemed to realize the same thing: \u003cem>The River\u003c/em> was over, and the real stuff could begin.\u003c/p>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__embedYoutube'>\n \u003cspan class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__embedYoutubeInside'>\n \u003ciframe\n loading='lazy'\n class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__youtubePlayer'\n type='text/html'\n src='//www.youtube.com/embed/CLUFioa6zIs'\n title='//www.youtube.com/embed/CLUFioa6zIs'\n allowfullscreen='true'\n style='border:0;'>\u003c/iframe>\n \u003c/span>\n \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cp>And for the next hour and 15 minutes, Springsteen crammed in \u003ca href=\"http://www.setlist.fm/setlist/bruce-springsteen/2016/oracle-arena-oakland-ca-6bf0da1e.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">14 more songs\u003c/a> — mostly dependable ones he’s accustomed to playing, but the unpredictability felt refreshing. He took a sign request for “Growin’ Up” and called the kid on stage to sing with him. He got schooled by a teenage girl on \u003ca href=\"https://twitter.com/madirwebb/status/709266064580812800\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">how to dab\u003c/a> for “Dancing in the Dark.” He had even the Oracle ushers, old-timers who looked like they’ve worked there since 1988, dancing in the aisles to “Shout.” You never knew what he was going to do next, and he proved, yet again, why people like me will pay $150 plus taxes and fees even when he’s playing a lesser-liked album in its entirety.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Let’s just hope next time around, it’s \u003cem>The Wild, the Innocent and the E Street Shuffle\u003c/em>.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"title": "It's Not Really 'Cloverfield,' But It's A Lot Of Fun",
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"content": "\u003cp>[\u003cem>This is a film it’s very hard to talk about at all without spoiling at least the premise and the basic setup, but this review does its level best not to go beyond that point.\u003c/em>]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“What does this have to do with \u003cem>Cloverfield\u003c/em>?”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Putting that question out of your mind during \u003cem>10 Cloverfield Lane\u003c/em> is ignoring the elephant in the room, but everything about the film, from its out-of-the-blue viral campaign to its thrilling commitment to misdirection, makes it possible. Some connections eventually emerge, as might be expected from one of producer J.J. Abrams’ puzzlebox narratives, but \u003cem>10 Cloverfield Lane\u003c/em> is not another found-footage \u003cem>War of the Worlds\u003c/em> scenario. And it doesn’t take place in the wide-open spaces of a city under siege, either. For the longest time, it appears that the \u003cem>Cloverfield\u003c/em> franchise is united mainly by the aesthetic principle of offscreen space — not the catchiest hook, but an enormously effective one.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yQy-ANhnUpE\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The obvious reason the two films connect so thinly is that \u003cem>10 Cloverfield Lane\u003c/em> wasn’t originally conceived as a sort-of sequel, but retrofitted like the chainsaw Bruce Campbell attaches to his arm in \u003cem>Evil Dead II\u003c/em>. In sharp contrast to the shaky-cam of Cloverfield, first-time director Dan Trachtenberg gives the opening scenes a classic Hitchcockian quality, nodding specifically to Janet Leigh’s dash out of town in \u003cem>Psycho\u003c/em> and laying on a muscular score (by Bear McCreary) in homage to Bernard Herrmann. Also like Hitchcock, the story takes a decisive turn once a car peels off the road.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That car belongs to Michelle (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), a Louisiana woman who’s first shown hastily packing her things in a suitcase and a box, and rushing out of her apartment, leaving her wedding ring behind. Shortly after an evening pitstop for fuel, Michelle gets in a car accident that sends her careening down an embankment. When she awakens, she finds herself hooked to an IV drip in an unadorned cement bunker with her leg handcuffed to a pipe. Before she can improvise her way out of trouble, her captor comes thundering through the door. His name is Howard (John Goodman), he explains, and contrary to appearances, he saved Michelle from the wreck and is currently protecting her from threats unknown.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There’s reason to believe he’s right. Howard claims that after the accident, there was a chemical attack that rendered the air unbreathable, and being the cheerful paranoiac he is, he’d built an underground shelter for just such an occasion. Along with a third resident named Emmett (John Gallagher Jr.), the two of them have enough supplies to wait out the apocalypse for a year or two, when the toxicity has presumably passed. Howard is a disturbing guy who lords over Michelle and Emmett like a belligerent father, but any attempt to escape risks the likelihood of instant death the moment they peek their heads above ground.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>All this may sound like the set-up to an M. Night Shyamalan twist, and certainly \u003cem>10 Cloverfield Lane\u003c/em> does have the obligation to pay off its \u003cem>Twilight Zone\u003c/em> premise. But Trachtenberg and his screenwriters, Josh Campbell and Matthew Stuecken, take advantage of the shelter’s tight quarters, which contribute to the expected pressure-cooker atmosphere of suspicion and hostility but also open up the punch-drunk comedy of people going mad with boredom. Howard may be a controlling monster, but he’s got a kick-ass jukebox and he’s always up for board games or late-night viewings of \u003cem>Pretty In Pink\u003c/em> on VHS. (Just be sure to compliment him on his spaghetti.)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Goodman’s ability to vacillate between regular-guy jocularity and Biblical fury has made him a Coen brothers favorite since \u003cem>Barton Fink\u003c/em>, and his performance helps modulate the film’s stomach-clenching tonal shifts. But Winstead is every bit as good as the frightened yet resourceful heroine, who has to make difficult decisions about if, when, and how to act, and validate the serpentine logic of the script. Their battle of wills adds a substance to \u003cem>10 Cloverfield Lane\u003c/em> that the improvising ninnies of the original \u003cem>Cloverfield\u003c/em> couldn’t muster, despite its novel perspective on the monster movie. The gimmickry eventually arrives — and, god help us, the Cloverfield “mythology” — but by then, the film has succeeded thoroughly on its own terms.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>[\u003cem>This is a film it’s very hard to talk about at all without spoiling at least the premise and the basic setup, but this review does its level best not to go beyond that point.\u003c/em>]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“What does this have to do with \u003cem>Cloverfield\u003c/em>?”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Putting that question out of your mind during \u003cem>10 Cloverfield Lane\u003c/em> is ignoring the elephant in the room, but everything about the film, from its out-of-the-blue viral campaign to its thrilling commitment to misdirection, makes it possible. Some connections eventually emerge, as might be expected from one of producer J.J. Abrams’ puzzlebox narratives, but \u003cem>10 Cloverfield Lane\u003c/em> is not another found-footage \u003cem>War of the Worlds\u003c/em> scenario. And it doesn’t take place in the wide-open spaces of a city under siege, either. For the longest time, it appears that the \u003cem>Cloverfield\u003c/em> franchise is united mainly by the aesthetic principle of offscreen space — not the catchiest hook, but an enormously effective one.\u003c/p>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__embedYoutube'>\n \u003cspan class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__embedYoutubeInside'>\n \u003ciframe\n loading='lazy'\n class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__youtubePlayer'\n type='text/html'\n src='//www.youtube.com/embed/yQy-ANhnUpE'\n title='//www.youtube.com/embed/yQy-ANhnUpE'\n allowfullscreen='true'\n style='border:0;'>\u003c/iframe>\n \u003c/span>\n \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cp>The obvious reason the two films connect so thinly is that \u003cem>10 Cloverfield Lane\u003c/em> wasn’t originally conceived as a sort-of sequel, but retrofitted like the chainsaw Bruce Campbell attaches to his arm in \u003cem>Evil Dead II\u003c/em>. In sharp contrast to the shaky-cam of Cloverfield, first-time director Dan Trachtenberg gives the opening scenes a classic Hitchcockian quality, nodding specifically to Janet Leigh’s dash out of town in \u003cem>Psycho\u003c/em> and laying on a muscular score (by Bear McCreary) in homage to Bernard Herrmann. Also like Hitchcock, the story takes a decisive turn once a car peels off the road.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That car belongs to Michelle (Mary Elizabeth Winstead), a Louisiana woman who’s first shown hastily packing her things in a suitcase and a box, and rushing out of her apartment, leaving her wedding ring behind. Shortly after an evening pitstop for fuel, Michelle gets in a car accident that sends her careening down an embankment. When she awakens, she finds herself hooked to an IV drip in an unadorned cement bunker with her leg handcuffed to a pipe. Before she can improvise her way out of trouble, her captor comes thundering through the door. His name is Howard (John Goodman), he explains, and contrary to appearances, he saved Michelle from the wreck and is currently protecting her from threats unknown.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There’s reason to believe he’s right. Howard claims that after the accident, there was a chemical attack that rendered the air unbreathable, and being the cheerful paranoiac he is, he’d built an underground shelter for just such an occasion. Along with a third resident named Emmett (John Gallagher Jr.), the two of them have enough supplies to wait out the apocalypse for a year or two, when the toxicity has presumably passed. Howard is a disturbing guy who lords over Michelle and Emmett like a belligerent father, but any attempt to escape risks the likelihood of instant death the moment they peek their heads above ground.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>All this may sound like the set-up to an M. Night Shyamalan twist, and certainly \u003cem>10 Cloverfield Lane\u003c/em> does have the obligation to pay off its \u003cem>Twilight Zone\u003c/em> premise. But Trachtenberg and his screenwriters, Josh Campbell and Matthew Stuecken, take advantage of the shelter’s tight quarters, which contribute to the expected pressure-cooker atmosphere of suspicion and hostility but also open up the punch-drunk comedy of people going mad with boredom. Howard may be a controlling monster, but he’s got a kick-ass jukebox and he’s always up for board games or late-night viewings of \u003cem>Pretty In Pink\u003c/em> on VHS. (Just be sure to compliment him on his spaghetti.)\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Goodman’s ability to vacillate between regular-guy jocularity and Biblical fury has made him a Coen brothers favorite since \u003cem>Barton Fink\u003c/em>, and his performance helps modulate the film’s stomach-clenching tonal shifts. But Winstead is every bit as good as the frightened yet resourceful heroine, who has to make difficult decisions about if, when, and how to act, and validate the serpentine logic of the script. Their battle of wills adds a substance to \u003cem>10 Cloverfield Lane\u003c/em> that the improvising ninnies of the original \u003cem>Cloverfield\u003c/em> couldn’t muster, despite its novel perspective on the monster movie. The gimmickry eventually arrives — and, god help us, the Cloverfield “mythology” — but by then, the film has succeeded thoroughly on its own terms.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"title": "Thornback and Proud: On Rebecca Traister's 'All the Single Ladies'",
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"content": "\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>\u003cem>Marriage is traditionally the destiny offered to women by society. Most women are married or have been, or plan to be or suffer from not being\u003c/em>. – Simone de Beauvoir\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>When I was 24, my best friend and I were invited to the wedding of a woman, our age, that we knew from the feminist punk scene. She was marrying her high school boyfriend. Britt and I wore wigs to the ceremony — though it wasn’t that kind of party. Looking back, I think we subconsciously felt like the whole idea of marriage was so peculiar, so weird, that we needed to make a statement. Why not make a spectacle at a spectacle?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For the majority of my posse of foxy, nonconformist friends, marriage was as distant and cold as Siberia. We had way more fun things to do. Bands to see. Global travel adventures to plan. Boys and girls to hook up with. Degrees to finish. Music to write. Stories to publish. Protests to plan. Weddings? No thanks. Besides, we had each other for companionship, love, and support. Sure, some were in committed relationships, but we absolutely, positively were \u003cem>not\u003c/em> looking to get married. Marriage to me looked stifling, patriarchal, oppressive, and — worst of all — boring. Back in colonial times, we would have been referred to has “\u003ca href=\"http://friendsoflajollashores.com/marinelife/thornbackray/\">thornbacks\u003c/a>,” the word for an unmarried woman over the age of 26.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Just a generation before, things were different. My mom married my dad at the age of 19, to live with him during Army training. Her two sisters married young as well. Neither of those marriages lasted long; my parents, on the other hand, have been together since 1969.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-11397688 aligncenter\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/all-the-single-ladies-9781476716565_hr-e1457732029377.jpg\" alt=\"all-the-single-ladies-9781476716565_hr\" width=\"356\" height=\"538\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I got to thinking about marriage, and the single life, and what it all means after reading\u003cem> All the Single Ladies: Unmarried Women and the Rise of an Independent Nation\u003c/em>, the excellent and engrossing new book by Rebecca Traister. A keen blend of history, socio-cultural commentary and memoir, the book reads as a prism of issues, struggles, and victories surrounding single women in America — both today and throughout history. We are now living in the “epoch of single women,” writes Traister. As such, it’s time for government and legislators to step up to the policy plate and build a world around this new, impressive, and fully data-supported reality.\u003c/p>\n\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>“Single women are taking up space in a world that was not built for them. We are a new republic, with a new category of citizen. If we are to flourish, we must make room for free women, must adjust our economic and social systems, the ones that are built around the presumption that no woman really counts unless she is married.”\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>The choice to be single is not a new phenomenon. But, statistically, there are far more single ladies in the U.S. now than ever before. As of 2009, the “number of adults younger than thirty-four who had never married was up to 46 percent.” For the first time in history, due to a complex political, cultural, and economic stew, single women outnumber married women. More women are also choosing to delay marriage, if they marry at all.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I didn’t marry until I was 34, and not without a fair amount of trepidation. It was exciting to be engaged to a man that I loved, to make such a big commitment. It was also terrifying. I felt like a wild horse about to be tamed. I had built a life of creativity, of socializing with my friends and basking in my own agency. As such, I found much to identify with in Traister’s nuanced look at the steadily increasing sexual, economic, and cultural power of single women in the U.S.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So why do people get married in 2016? Lots of reasons, explains Traister. In rural areas, being single can still be a rough path to take, and so women marry out of religious or social pressure. Many people these days marry for love, whether they are fooling themselves or not. Others marry, as one of my Facebook friends put it, “for financial aid and health insurance.” Marriage, if anything, has become a more complicated proposition than it was 100 years ago, when marrying was simply the expected thing to do, for better or for worse.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11397689\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 600px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/rebeccatraister-headshot.jpg\" alt=\"Rebecca Traister.\" width=\"600\" height=\"400\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11397689\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/rebeccatraister-headshot.jpg 600w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/rebeccatraister-headshot-400x267.jpg 400w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 600px) 100vw, 600px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Rebecca Traister. \u003ccite>(Eliza Brown)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>I also discovered that I’m not alone in my choice to marry later in life. This is a good thing, argues Traister. Despite what conservative pundits bemoaning the dismal drop in early marriage rates might argue, the postponement of marriage, and the prolonged ability for women to be single, has actually made the whole institution a better place to live.\u003c/p>\n\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>“The women who, for centuries, have been fighting to be able to stay single longer or forever, who have been blasting new paths and new space for themselves in the world, have made an impression on their fellow citizens. In delaying marriage, they have made it more conceivable to riff on it, to do it later, to do it differently, to do it better.”\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>Yet there’s also a range of reasons why women choose not to marry. Some, like Lena Dunham, the poster girl for single millennial creative success, most likely view marriage as an infringement on creative freedom, and not a requirement for full lady status. Or, as Traister \u003ca href=\"http://jezebel.com/marriage-changes-when-you-dont-just-need-a-warm-body-an-1762007106\">told\u003c/a> Jia Tolentino in a Jezebel interview: “Yes, marriage changes if you don’t just need a warm body and a paycheck. If you can get your \u003cem>own \u003c/em>paycheck—if you can have a baby on your own—if you can have a sex life…” Young women now also have “alternate models of female life more visible and available to them.” Others, like some of the women profiled in Traister’s book, live in poor communities, where high rates of incarceration, unemployment, and domestic violence make marriage unappealing, if not downright impossible.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[contextly_sidebar id=”cXZTFRmtKZI9ygySkt957yNPHiUMjZOt”]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Another element of single life that Traister covers well is female friendship. “Among the largely unacknowledged truths of female life is that women’s primary, foundational, formative relationships are as likely to be with each other as they are with the men we’ve been told since childhood are supposed to be the ones who complete us,” she writes.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My husband sometimes comments on how easily I make friends, and how devoted I am to those friends once they are in my life. It’s true. I take the \u003ca href=\"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_Shirley\">Anne Shirley \u003c/a>approach to friendship, a feverish devotion. (“It’s about Diana,’ sobbed Anne luxuriously. ‘I love Diana so, Marilla. I cannot ever live without her. But I know very well when we grow up that Diana will get married and go away and leave me.”) My old friends from my fancy-free twenties mostly live in different cities now, but we still have a love that bonds us, hopefully until the end of our lives. Not all of us are single ladies anymore, but most of us who married did so late, if at all — shaped already by years of female bonding, sexual experimentation, college and graduate school, travel and adventure. We got our taste of freedom. It shaped us, it shifted us, and it made us who we are today. If I’d gotten married at 22, and had kids early, I don’t think I’d have the same sense of self. Nor would I have these deep friendships that sustain me as much as my marriage does, in different, just-as-essential ways.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>All the Single Ladies\u003c/em> left me with one burning question. Why do women get married these days? I can count on one hand my few friends that have married for religious reasons. But most of my married friends are savvy, strong, and smart people who could easily make it through life without a husband or wife. Is everyone marrying for love?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I don’t have an answer. But reading \u003cem>All the Single Ladies\u003c/em> has me thinking about how we, as a society and a country, can better support and celebrate the single woman, whatever her age, class, or status. Traister shares a few suggestions for how to do this, policy-wise, and they are good. Most of all, the book handed me a new lens through which to view my single twenties, my choice to marry late, and the choice of others in my friend circle and beyond to stay permanently single. This is not an aberration. This is an evolution, and not a minute too soon.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>\u003cem>Marriage is traditionally the destiny offered to women by society. Most women are married or have been, or plan to be or suffer from not being\u003c/em>. – Simone de Beauvoir\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>When I was 24, my best friend and I were invited to the wedding of a woman, our age, that we knew from the feminist punk scene. She was marrying her high school boyfriend. Britt and I wore wigs to the ceremony — though it wasn’t that kind of party. Looking back, I think we subconsciously felt like the whole idea of marriage was so peculiar, so weird, that we needed to make a statement. Why not make a spectacle at a spectacle?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For the majority of my posse of foxy, nonconformist friends, marriage was as distant and cold as Siberia. We had way more fun things to do. Bands to see. Global travel adventures to plan. Boys and girls to hook up with. Degrees to finish. Music to write. Stories to publish. Protests to plan. Weddings? No thanks. Besides, we had each other for companionship, love, and support. Sure, some were in committed relationships, but we absolutely, positively were \u003cem>not\u003c/em> looking to get married. Marriage to me looked stifling, patriarchal, oppressive, and — worst of all — boring. Back in colonial times, we would have been referred to has “\u003ca href=\"http://friendsoflajollashores.com/marinelife/thornbackray/\">thornbacks\u003c/a>,” the word for an unmarried woman over the age of 26.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Just a generation before, things were different. My mom married my dad at the age of 19, to live with him during Army training. Her two sisters married young as well. Neither of those marriages lasted long; my parents, on the other hand, have been together since 1969.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-11397688 aligncenter\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/all-the-single-ladies-9781476716565_hr-e1457732029377.jpg\" alt=\"all-the-single-ladies-9781476716565_hr\" width=\"356\" height=\"538\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I got to thinking about marriage, and the single life, and what it all means after reading\u003cem> All the Single Ladies: Unmarried Women and the Rise of an Independent Nation\u003c/em>, the excellent and engrossing new book by Rebecca Traister. A keen blend of history, socio-cultural commentary and memoir, the book reads as a prism of issues, struggles, and victories surrounding single women in America — both today and throughout history. We are now living in the “epoch of single women,” writes Traister. As such, it’s time for government and legislators to step up to the policy plate and build a world around this new, impressive, and fully data-supported reality.\u003c/p>\n\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>“Single women are taking up space in a world that was not built for them. We are a new republic, with a new category of citizen. If we are to flourish, we must make room for free women, must adjust our economic and social systems, the ones that are built around the presumption that no woman really counts unless she is married.”\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>The choice to be single is not a new phenomenon. But, statistically, there are far more single ladies in the U.S. now than ever before. As of 2009, the “number of adults younger than thirty-four who had never married was up to 46 percent.” For the first time in history, due to a complex political, cultural, and economic stew, single women outnumber married women. More women are also choosing to delay marriage, if they marry at all.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I didn’t marry until I was 34, and not without a fair amount of trepidation. It was exciting to be engaged to a man that I loved, to make such a big commitment. It was also terrifying. I felt like a wild horse about to be tamed. I had built a life of creativity, of socializing with my friends and basking in my own agency. As such, I found much to identify with in Traister’s nuanced look at the steadily increasing sexual, economic, and cultural power of single women in the U.S.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So why do people get married in 2016? Lots of reasons, explains Traister. In rural areas, being single can still be a rough path to take, and so women marry out of religious or social pressure. Many people these days marry for love, whether they are fooling themselves or not. Others marry, as one of my Facebook friends put it, “for financial aid and health insurance.” Marriage, if anything, has become a more complicated proposition than it was 100 years ago, when marrying was simply the expected thing to do, for better or for worse.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11397689\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 600px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/rebeccatraister-headshot.jpg\" alt=\"Rebecca Traister.\" width=\"600\" height=\"400\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11397689\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/rebeccatraister-headshot.jpg 600w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/rebeccatraister-headshot-400x267.jpg 400w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 600px) 100vw, 600px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Rebecca Traister. \u003ccite>(Eliza Brown)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>I also discovered that I’m not alone in my choice to marry later in life. This is a good thing, argues Traister. Despite what conservative pundits bemoaning the dismal drop in early marriage rates might argue, the postponement of marriage, and the prolonged ability for women to be single, has actually made the whole institution a better place to live.\u003c/p>\n\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>“The women who, for centuries, have been fighting to be able to stay single longer or forever, who have been blasting new paths and new space for themselves in the world, have made an impression on their fellow citizens. In delaying marriage, they have made it more conceivable to riff on it, to do it later, to do it differently, to do it better.”\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>Yet there’s also a range of reasons why women choose not to marry. Some, like Lena Dunham, the poster girl for single millennial creative success, most likely view marriage as an infringement on creative freedom, and not a requirement for full lady status. Or, as Traister \u003ca href=\"http://jezebel.com/marriage-changes-when-you-dont-just-need-a-warm-body-an-1762007106\">told\u003c/a> Jia Tolentino in a Jezebel interview: “Yes, marriage changes if you don’t just need a warm body and a paycheck. If you can get your \u003cem>own \u003c/em>paycheck—if you can have a baby on your own—if you can have a sex life…” Young women now also have “alternate models of female life more visible and available to them.” Others, like some of the women profiled in Traister’s book, live in poor communities, where high rates of incarceration, unemployment, and domestic violence make marriage unappealing, if not downright impossible.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Another element of single life that Traister covers well is female friendship. “Among the largely unacknowledged truths of female life is that women’s primary, foundational, formative relationships are as likely to be with each other as they are with the men we’ve been told since childhood are supposed to be the ones who complete us,” she writes.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>My husband sometimes comments on how easily I make friends, and how devoted I am to those friends once they are in my life. It’s true. I take the \u003ca href=\"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_Shirley\">Anne Shirley \u003c/a>approach to friendship, a feverish devotion. (“It’s about Diana,’ sobbed Anne luxuriously. ‘I love Diana so, Marilla. I cannot ever live without her. But I know very well when we grow up that Diana will get married and go away and leave me.”) My old friends from my fancy-free twenties mostly live in different cities now, but we still have a love that bonds us, hopefully until the end of our lives. Not all of us are single ladies anymore, but most of us who married did so late, if at all — shaped already by years of female bonding, sexual experimentation, college and graduate school, travel and adventure. We got our taste of freedom. It shaped us, it shifted us, and it made us who we are today. If I’d gotten married at 22, and had kids early, I don’t think I’d have the same sense of self. Nor would I have these deep friendships that sustain me as much as my marriage does, in different, just-as-essential ways.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>All the Single Ladies\u003c/em> left me with one burning question. Why do women get married these days? I can count on one hand my few friends that have married for religious reasons. But most of my married friends are savvy, strong, and smart people who could easily make it through life without a husband or wife. Is everyone marrying for love?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I don’t have an answer. But reading \u003cem>All the Single Ladies\u003c/em> has me thinking about how we, as a society and a country, can better support and celebrate the single woman, whatever her age, class, or status. Traister shares a few suggestions for how to do this, policy-wise, and they are good. Most of all, the book handed me a new lens through which to view my single twenties, my choice to marry late, and the choice of others in my friend circle and beyond to stay permanently single. This is not an aberration. This is an evolution, and not a minute too soon.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"content": "\u003cp>The free takeaway from Anthony Discenza’s current solo show at Catharine Clark Gallery (the labyrinthine-titled \u003ci>Anthony Discenza Presents A Novel: An Exhibition by Anthony Discenza\u003c/i>) is an inky newsprint edition optionally pre-placed in a matte plastic bag. The bag is meant to protect clothes, hands and accessories from the black pigment within, but possibly also from the ideas within — mind-bendy meditations on identity, exhibition-making and the work of being an artist.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11378449\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 427px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11378449\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Discenza_Lost-Cats640.jpg\" alt=\"Anthony Discenza, 'Lost Cats--Black (Phil, Doug, Marie, Romeo, Spoon, Roy)\" width=\"427\" height=\"640\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Discenza_Lost-Cats640.jpg 427w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Discenza_Lost-Cats640-400x600.jpg 400w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 427px) 100vw, 427px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Anthony Discenza, ‘Lost Cats–Black (Phil, Doug, Marie, Romeo, Spoon, Roy) \u003ccite>(Courtesy of the artist and Catharine Clark Gallery, San Francisco)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The premise of \u003ci>Anthony Discenza Presents A Novel\u003c/i> is that of an artist named Anthony Discenza exploring “the history of an unrealized exhibition by Bay Area artist Anthony Discenza.” If that isn’t confusing enough, the aforementioned unrealized exhibition, tentatively titled “A Novel,” was meant to take place in late winter of 2016 — a time decidedly unhistorical. Instead of an exhibition remade, we see the makings of an exhibition: photocopied research materials, studies and considerations.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The show at Catharine Clark is fragmentary, filled with vinyl text pieces, ghostly inkjet prints, a sound installation and a scattering of mysterious rubber wedges (wheel chocks for trucks). The objects share a type of deadpan and monochromatic humor that keeps the viewer forever off-balance, questioning the rationale behind each piece.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11378553\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11378553\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Discenza_Material-List-1-e1457083494562.jpg\" alt=\"Anthony Discenza, 'Materials List for an Unrealized Artwork No. 1,' 2015.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"760\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Anthony Discenza, ‘Materials List for an Unrealized Artwork No. 1,’ 2015. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of the artist and Catharine Clark Gallery, San Francisco)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Text-based work (on walls, neon tubes and in frames) is offset by layered compositions of often-unidentifiable objects. On the floor, a stacked arrangement of re-densified polypropylene packing foam resembles oversized chunks of charcoal. These things are opaque in meaning, but solid in form.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s \u003ci>Study for an Essay (On the Disappointments)\u003c/i> that really destabilized my viewing experience. The inkjet print looks just like a photocopy of a book spread, showing a portion of an essay written by somebody named Anthony Discenza. The subject is \u003ci>The Disappointments\u003c/i>, a novel written by somebody named Lane Hobbs who may or may not be real. And so, “the disappointments” are now the feelings I have after reading part of an essay about a book that sounds amazing, but might not exist.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The passages within this essay effectively capture the dissociative effect of wandering through Discenza’s show: “…the book does possess a distinct feeling of unreality, a suggestion that the events described could be taking place entirely in the mind of one of its characters, or perhaps in some alternate reality \u003ci>almost\u003c/i> identical to our own.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11378450\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 360px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11378450\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Discenza_media-room640.jpg\" alt=\"Anthony Discenza, 'Is Your Life Finished? Have You Achieved Every Dream, Every Goal, Followed Every Idea and Had Every Experience You Wanted to Have?,' 2016.\" width=\"360\" height=\"640\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Discenza_media-room640.jpg 360w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Discenza_media-room640-338x600.jpg 338w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 360px) 100vw, 360px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Anthony Discenza, ‘Is Your Life Finished? Have You Achieved Every Dream, Every Goal, Followed Every Idea and Had Every Experience You Wanted to Have?,’ 2016. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of the artist and Catharine Clark Gallery, San Francisco)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Though the above could describe many things — that split second when you don’t recognize yourself in an unexpected mirror, Jonathan Lethem’s novel \u003ci>Chronic City\u003c/i> or any Charlie Kaufman film, at all — it provides a framework upon which to hang the disparate elements of the surrounding exhibition.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The soundtrack for this journey of confusion, distrust, anxiety and (possibly, ultimately) acceptance is the final element of the exhibition, a sound installation in a darkened room filled with toppled PA speakers playing guided hypnosis MP3s. Overlapping voices of men and women telling me to relax and breathe deeply had the opposite effect. Their words, along with a droning hum that I may or may not have imagined, filled me with dread.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This isn’t a bad thing. How often do you step into an exhibition that makes you feel, truly, anything? Discenza’s ability to conjure emotion, make my brain work (perhaps even hurt) and leave me with something I actually want to ponder over, talk about and puzzle through is a surprisingly rare thing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Away from the hypnosis hum, I spread out the newsprint takeaway to spend some time with the Anthonys described within: one a sympathetic but critical observer, the other a self-doubting, conflicted and underperforming artist. Within these inky pages, the disparate narrative threads, objects and images inside the gallery start to weave together into a story not quite science fiction, but some version of reality \u003ci>almost\u003c/i> identical to our own.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>\u003ci>Anthony Discenza Presents A Novel: An Exhibition by Anthony Discenza\u003c/i>\u003c/b> is on view at Catharine Clark Gallery in San Francisco through April 16. For more information visit \u003ca href=\"https://cclarkgallery.com/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">cclarkgallery.com\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>The free takeaway from Anthony Discenza’s current solo show at Catharine Clark Gallery (the labyrinthine-titled \u003ci>Anthony Discenza Presents A Novel: An Exhibition by Anthony Discenza\u003c/i>) is an inky newsprint edition optionally pre-placed in a matte plastic bag. The bag is meant to protect clothes, hands and accessories from the black pigment within, but possibly also from the ideas within — mind-bendy meditations on identity, exhibition-making and the work of being an artist.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11378449\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 427px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11378449\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Discenza_Lost-Cats640.jpg\" alt=\"Anthony Discenza, 'Lost Cats--Black (Phil, Doug, Marie, Romeo, Spoon, Roy)\" width=\"427\" height=\"640\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Discenza_Lost-Cats640.jpg 427w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Discenza_Lost-Cats640-400x600.jpg 400w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 427px) 100vw, 427px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Anthony Discenza, ‘Lost Cats–Black (Phil, Doug, Marie, Romeo, Spoon, Roy) \u003ccite>(Courtesy of the artist and Catharine Clark Gallery, San Francisco)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The premise of \u003ci>Anthony Discenza Presents A Novel\u003c/i> is that of an artist named Anthony Discenza exploring “the history of an unrealized exhibition by Bay Area artist Anthony Discenza.” If that isn’t confusing enough, the aforementioned unrealized exhibition, tentatively titled “A Novel,” was meant to take place in late winter of 2016 — a time decidedly unhistorical. Instead of an exhibition remade, we see the makings of an exhibition: photocopied research materials, studies and considerations.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The show at Catharine Clark is fragmentary, filled with vinyl text pieces, ghostly inkjet prints, a sound installation and a scattering of mysterious rubber wedges (wheel chocks for trucks). The objects share a type of deadpan and monochromatic humor that keeps the viewer forever off-balance, questioning the rationale behind each piece.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11378553\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11378553\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Discenza_Material-List-1-e1457083494562.jpg\" alt=\"Anthony Discenza, 'Materials List for an Unrealized Artwork No. 1,' 2015.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"760\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Anthony Discenza, ‘Materials List for an Unrealized Artwork No. 1,’ 2015. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of the artist and Catharine Clark Gallery, San Francisco)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Text-based work (on walls, neon tubes and in frames) is offset by layered compositions of often-unidentifiable objects. On the floor, a stacked arrangement of re-densified polypropylene packing foam resembles oversized chunks of charcoal. These things are opaque in meaning, but solid in form.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It’s \u003ci>Study for an Essay (On the Disappointments)\u003c/i> that really destabilized my viewing experience. The inkjet print looks just like a photocopy of a book spread, showing a portion of an essay written by somebody named Anthony Discenza. The subject is \u003ci>The Disappointments\u003c/i>, a novel written by somebody named Lane Hobbs who may or may not be real. And so, “the disappointments” are now the feelings I have after reading part of an essay about a book that sounds amazing, but might not exist.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The passages within this essay effectively capture the dissociative effect of wandering through Discenza’s show: “…the book does possess a distinct feeling of unreality, a suggestion that the events described could be taking place entirely in the mind of one of its characters, or perhaps in some alternate reality \u003ci>almost\u003c/i> identical to our own.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11378450\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 360px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11378450\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Discenza_media-room640.jpg\" alt=\"Anthony Discenza, 'Is Your Life Finished? Have You Achieved Every Dream, Every Goal, Followed Every Idea and Had Every Experience You Wanted to Have?,' 2016.\" width=\"360\" height=\"640\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Discenza_media-room640.jpg 360w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Discenza_media-room640-338x600.jpg 338w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 360px) 100vw, 360px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Anthony Discenza, ‘Is Your Life Finished? Have You Achieved Every Dream, Every Goal, Followed Every Idea and Had Every Experience You Wanted to Have?,’ 2016. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of the artist and Catharine Clark Gallery, San Francisco)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Though the above could describe many things — that split second when you don’t recognize yourself in an unexpected mirror, Jonathan Lethem’s novel \u003ci>Chronic City\u003c/i> or any Charlie Kaufman film, at all — it provides a framework upon which to hang the disparate elements of the surrounding exhibition.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The soundtrack for this journey of confusion, distrust, anxiety and (possibly, ultimately) acceptance is the final element of the exhibition, a sound installation in a darkened room filled with toppled PA speakers playing guided hypnosis MP3s. Overlapping voices of men and women telling me to relax and breathe deeply had the opposite effect. Their words, along with a droning hum that I may or may not have imagined, filled me with dread.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This isn’t a bad thing. How often do you step into an exhibition that makes you feel, truly, anything? Discenza’s ability to conjure emotion, make my brain work (perhaps even hurt) and leave me with something I actually want to ponder over, talk about and puzzle through is a surprisingly rare thing.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Away from the hypnosis hum, I spread out the newsprint takeaway to spend some time with the Anthonys described within: one a sympathetic but critical observer, the other a self-doubting, conflicted and underperforming artist. Within these inky pages, the disparate narrative threads, objects and images inside the gallery start to weave together into a story not quite science fiction, but some version of reality \u003ci>almost\u003c/i> identical to our own.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>\u003ci>Anthony Discenza Presents A Novel: An Exhibition by Anthony Discenza\u003c/i>\u003c/b> is on view at Catharine Clark Gallery in San Francisco through April 16. For more information visit \u003ca href=\"https://cclarkgallery.com/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">cclarkgallery.com\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"content": "\u003cp>For a while \u003cem>Race\u003c/em>, a handsomely mounted drama about a pivotal moment in the life of track star Jesse Owens, bowls along as a crisp, if conventional, account of a black athlete who triumphs over poverty and racism to get the gold. An unprecedented four gold medals to be precise, at the 1936 Berlin Olympics. But that’s getting ahead of ourselves. In Cleveland, there are angry, red-faced bigots to get in the way, and the statutory tough-love coach, serviceably rendered by Jason Sudeikis, to smooth the path to glory.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ho9KA_JF0sE\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The road to success is no cakewalk: Coach Snyder is a bit of a lush who comes to Owens having screwed up his own athletic career and his family life. Owens hasn’t had it easy either, having already fathered a child with his sweetheart, Ruth (Shanice Banton), whose loyalty he briefly betrays before coming to his senses. He gets more saintly later, and not necessarily to the film’s advantage. But for now, there is learning to live with prejudice in a funny, appalling scene in which Snyder models for his protege how to screen out the ugly noise and focus on being — the mostly lively screenplay by Joe Shrapnel and Anna Waterhouse has a few bum lines— the best that he can be. Refreshingly, though, the point of view belongs not to Coach but to Owens, who’s ably played by the impossibly beautiful Canadian actor Stephan James, last seen as civil rights activist John Lewis in \u003cem>Selma\u003c/em>. His graceful carriage is pure pleasure, his victories over haters satisfying. And though this ground has been well covered in other biopics about athletes of color, it bears repeating.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Things start to get interestingly out of hand when the canvas widens to rumors of war in Europe, where Hitler plans to turn the games into a showpiece for his Aryan master race. For the Fuhrer (Adrian Zwicker) and Joseph Goebbels (a stony-faced Barnaby Metschurat), this specifically excludes the likes of Owens or his two Jewish teammates. But before he sets foot on German soil, Owens must contend with the NAACP, which pressures him to stay home in solidarity with the country’s oppressed minorities. Also muddying the waters is a divided U.S. Olympic Committee dominated by the corruptible real estate developer Avery Brundage, played by Jeremy Irons, looking unnervingly like British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, who was busy conducting his own little policy of appeasement across the pond.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Realpolitik\u003c/em> rules, and if \u003cem>Race\u003c/em> is bracingly candid on the back-room politicking about Germany’s treatment of its Jews that raged on both sides of the Atlantic, it’s stronger still on the mixed signals awaiting the team in Berlin. The Third Reich is just gearing up, so there’s actually less physical segregation for the black athletes than there was at home. No such luck for their Jewish compatriots or for the German-Jewish citizens we see loaded onto trucks, even as Owens steps out into a stadium ringing with thousands yelling “Sieg Heil.” That Owens was lionized and befriended by Germany’s star jumper Carl “Luz” Long (David Kross), a brave and decent man, is well known and movingly told here. It’s unfortunate, then, that Dutch actress Carice Van Houten strains all belief as filmmaker and Nazi propagandist Leni Riefenstahl, gussied up into a concerned humanitarian who mediates between the Americans and Joseph Goebbels while she makes her documentary \u003cem>Olympia\u003c/em>. Either someone’s been reading the real-life Riefenstahl’s self-cleaning memoirs, or the need was felt for a well-turned ankle to glam things up.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>What is a fiction film’s responsibility to history? Is it a lack of focus or simply the truth that, late in the movie, Owens fades into a dignified but mostly passive witness to the diplomatic maelstrom? The scenes in which he wins his four golds are a big thrill, but to Hopkins’ credit, he doesn’t fudge the fact that despite the hero’s welcome to which Owens returns on the streets, it’s humiliating business as usual when he arrives at the front door of a swank hotel for a dinner in his honor. It would be decades before Owens was invited to the White House, and decades more for this engrossing film to get out the word.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>For a while \u003cem>Race\u003c/em>, a handsomely mounted drama about a pivotal moment in the life of track star Jesse Owens, bowls along as a crisp, if conventional, account of a black athlete who triumphs over poverty and racism to get the gold. An unprecedented four gold medals to be precise, at the 1936 Berlin Olympics. But that’s getting ahead of ourselves. In Cleveland, there are angry, red-faced bigots to get in the way, and the statutory tough-love coach, serviceably rendered by Jason Sudeikis, to smooth the path to glory.\u003c/p>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__embedYoutube'>\n \u003cspan class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__embedYoutubeInside'>\n \u003ciframe\n loading='lazy'\n class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__youtubePlayer'\n type='text/html'\n src='//www.youtube.com/embed/Ho9KA_JF0sE'\n title='//www.youtube.com/embed/Ho9KA_JF0sE'\n allowfullscreen='true'\n style='border:0;'>\u003c/iframe>\n \u003c/span>\n \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cp>The road to success is no cakewalk: Coach Snyder is a bit of a lush who comes to Owens having screwed up his own athletic career and his family life. Owens hasn’t had it easy either, having already fathered a child with his sweetheart, Ruth (Shanice Banton), whose loyalty he briefly betrays before coming to his senses. He gets more saintly later, and not necessarily to the film’s advantage. But for now, there is learning to live with prejudice in a funny, appalling scene in which Snyder models for his protege how to screen out the ugly noise and focus on being — the mostly lively screenplay by Joe Shrapnel and Anna Waterhouse has a few bum lines— the best that he can be. Refreshingly, though, the point of view belongs not to Coach but to Owens, who’s ably played by the impossibly beautiful Canadian actor Stephan James, last seen as civil rights activist John Lewis in \u003cem>Selma\u003c/em>. His graceful carriage is pure pleasure, his victories over haters satisfying. And though this ground has been well covered in other biopics about athletes of color, it bears repeating.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Things start to get interestingly out of hand when the canvas widens to rumors of war in Europe, where Hitler plans to turn the games into a showpiece for his Aryan master race. For the Fuhrer (Adrian Zwicker) and Joseph Goebbels (a stony-faced Barnaby Metschurat), this specifically excludes the likes of Owens or his two Jewish teammates. But before he sets foot on German soil, Owens must contend with the NAACP, which pressures him to stay home in solidarity with the country’s oppressed minorities. Also muddying the waters is a divided U.S. Olympic Committee dominated by the corruptible real estate developer Avery Brundage, played by Jeremy Irons, looking unnervingly like British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain, who was busy conducting his own little policy of appeasement across the pond.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cem>Realpolitik\u003c/em> rules, and if \u003cem>Race\u003c/em> is bracingly candid on the back-room politicking about Germany’s treatment of its Jews that raged on both sides of the Atlantic, it’s stronger still on the mixed signals awaiting the team in Berlin. The Third Reich is just gearing up, so there’s actually less physical segregation for the black athletes than there was at home. No such luck for their Jewish compatriots or for the German-Jewish citizens we see loaded onto trucks, even as Owens steps out into a stadium ringing with thousands yelling “Sieg Heil.” That Owens was lionized and befriended by Germany’s star jumper Carl “Luz” Long (David Kross), a brave and decent man, is well known and movingly told here. It’s unfortunate, then, that Dutch actress Carice Van Houten strains all belief as filmmaker and Nazi propagandist Leni Riefenstahl, gussied up into a concerned humanitarian who mediates between the Americans and Joseph Goebbels while she makes her documentary \u003cem>Olympia\u003c/em>. Either someone’s been reading the real-life Riefenstahl’s self-cleaning memoirs, or the need was felt for a well-turned ankle to glam things up.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"slug": "women-are-empowered-vulnerable-and-perfect-at-galeria-de-la-raza",
"title": "Women Are Empowered, Vulnerable and ‘Perfect’ at Galería de la Raza",
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"content": "\u003cp>My first glimpse of the Mission’s \u003ca href=\"http://www.galeriadelaraza.org/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Galería de la Raza\u003c/a> is the kind face of an indigenous woman smiling sagely at me through the gallery’s windows, defiance reflected in her warm eyes while large pink roses frame her face like a sigil of beauty and protection.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The wall-length mural, titled \u003ci>Justice for Indigenous Women\u003c/i>, is a piece by \u003ca href=\"http://jessicasabogal.com/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Jessica Sabogal\u003c/a>, whose work inspired Galería’s new show \u003ca href=\"http://www.galeriadelaraza.org/eng/events/index.php?op=view&id=6396\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">\u003ci>Womxn Are Perfect!\u003c/i>\u003c/a>, which opens Saturday, March 5 at 6pm.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Sabogal, Galería de la Raza’s digital mural project coordinator, previously worked on the 2014 show \u003ca href=\"http://www.galeriadelaraza.org/eng/events/index.php?op=view&id=5364\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">\u003ci>Women are Perfect (If You Let Them!)\u003c/i>\u003c/a>, a series of murals celebrating the different bodies and identities of women. The message resounded with Galería director Ani Rivera, who decided to extend the project into the current \u003ci>Womxn are Perfect!\u003c/i> group exhibition.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“For me, politically saying ‘women are perfect’ is just accepting them for who they are and their value as they are right now,” Rivera says. “You’re a work in progress, and that’s okay — you’re perfect.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11377384\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 794px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-11377384 size-full\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66451.jpg\" alt=\"'Womxn Are Perfect!' is a collection of pieces from 30 different artists on the topic of women's perfection.\" width=\"794\" height=\"447\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66451.jpg 794w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66451-400x225.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66451-768x432.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 794px) 100vw, 794px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">‘Womxn Are Perfect!’ is a collection of pieces from 30 different artists on the topic of women’s perfection. \u003ccite>(Creo Noveno/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Rivera, Sabogal, and the rest of the gallery’s curatorial committee received 135 responses to their nationwide open call this January, with interpretations of the phrase “women are perfect” addressing violence, oppression and ideas on the female body.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Perfection is different for everybody because we all carry different ethnic experiences, body abilities, some of us are born in the wrong body — what does that mean for someone who identifies as a woman?” Rivera says. “So we wanted to talk about the physical body elements and how they’re challenged or accepted.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>San Francisco-based artist \u003ca href=\"http://cynthiabrannvall.com/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Cynthia Brannvall\u003c/a> directly confronts these expectations of physical perfection through her piece \u003ci>Portrait Medallions\u003c/i>, a collage of vaginas constructed out of porcelain and lace in various shapes.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“The work was really investigating how the material signifier can evoke the idea of a feminine presence and also a little of that sexual delight,” Brannvall says. “My piece brings in an element of desire and pleasure and an affirmation of the beauty of the female form.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11377521\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 770px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-11377521\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Untitled-770x600.jpg\" alt=\"Cynthia Brannvall's "Portrait Medallions."\" width=\"770\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Untitled-770x600.jpg 770w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Untitled-400x312.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Untitled-768x598.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Untitled.jpg 800w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 770px) 100vw, 770px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Cynthia Brannvall’s “Portrait Medallions.” \u003ccite>(Courtesy: Cynthia Brannvall)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Another piece by South Bay artist \u003ca href=\"http://elianacetto.com/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Eliana Cetto\u003c/a> deals with the vulnerability of the female body in public. Cetto filmed herself undressing in front of a green screen onto which different public places in her San Jose neighborhood are projected.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“I basically created a virtual place where I could feel empowered and I can point out to the viewer that I’m not really safe whether I’m clothed or unclothed — it’s really the gaze of the viewer and the eyes of the people on the street that are the culprit,” Cetto says.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11377386\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 450px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-11377386 size-medium\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66471-450x600.jpg\" alt=\"The exhibit addresses violence, oppression and ideas on the female body in an attempt to deconstruct female perfection.\" width=\"450\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66471-450x600.jpg 450w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66471-400x533.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66471.jpg 600w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 450px) 100vw, 450px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The exhibit addresses violence, oppression and ideas on the female body in an attempt to deconstruct female perfection. \u003ccite>(Creo Noveno/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Rivera says she hopes that the collection’s examination of the ways women perceive their own perfection and connection to womanhood will inspire conversations and create opportunities for young women and children. Galería de la Raza itself has a history of being a women-led space, with the current staff largely filled by women of color.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Women have always been part of the Galería history — we’re very intentional about creating opportunities for women, about training women in arts production and administration, about providing a platform for oppressed and marginalized people,” Rivera says. “Our survival is dependent on being able to reach out to new voices and being able to give them a space.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>\u003ci>Womxn Are Perfect!\u003c/i>\u003c/b> holds an opening reception on Saturday, March 5, 6-9pm at Galería de la Raza in San Francisco. The exhibition is on view through March 26. For more information visit \u003ca href=\"http://www.galeriadelaraza.org/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">galeriadelaraza.org\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>My first glimpse of the Mission’s \u003ca href=\"http://www.galeriadelaraza.org/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Galería de la Raza\u003c/a> is the kind face of an indigenous woman smiling sagely at me through the gallery’s windows, defiance reflected in her warm eyes while large pink roses frame her face like a sigil of beauty and protection.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The wall-length mural, titled \u003ci>Justice for Indigenous Women\u003c/i>, is a piece by \u003ca href=\"http://jessicasabogal.com/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Jessica Sabogal\u003c/a>, whose work inspired Galería’s new show \u003ca href=\"http://www.galeriadelaraza.org/eng/events/index.php?op=view&id=6396\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">\u003ci>Womxn Are Perfect!\u003c/i>\u003c/a>, which opens Saturday, March 5 at 6pm.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Sabogal, Galería de la Raza’s digital mural project coordinator, previously worked on the 2014 show \u003ca href=\"http://www.galeriadelaraza.org/eng/events/index.php?op=view&id=5364\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">\u003ci>Women are Perfect (If You Let Them!)\u003c/i>\u003c/a>, a series of murals celebrating the different bodies and identities of women. The message resounded with Galería director Ani Rivera, who decided to extend the project into the current \u003ci>Womxn are Perfect!\u003c/i> group exhibition.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“For me, politically saying ‘women are perfect’ is just accepting them for who they are and their value as they are right now,” Rivera says. “You’re a work in progress, and that’s okay — you’re perfect.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11377384\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 794px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-11377384 size-full\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66451.jpg\" alt=\"'Womxn Are Perfect!' is a collection of pieces from 30 different artists on the topic of women's perfection.\" width=\"794\" height=\"447\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66451.jpg 794w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66451-400x225.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66451-768x432.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 794px) 100vw, 794px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">‘Womxn Are Perfect!’ is a collection of pieces from 30 different artists on the topic of women’s perfection. \u003ccite>(Creo Noveno/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Rivera, Sabogal, and the rest of the gallery’s curatorial committee received 135 responses to their nationwide open call this January, with interpretations of the phrase “women are perfect” addressing violence, oppression and ideas on the female body.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Perfection is different for everybody because we all carry different ethnic experiences, body abilities, some of us are born in the wrong body — what does that mean for someone who identifies as a woman?” Rivera says. “So we wanted to talk about the physical body elements and how they’re challenged or accepted.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>San Francisco-based artist \u003ca href=\"http://cynthiabrannvall.com/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Cynthia Brannvall\u003c/a> directly confronts these expectations of physical perfection through her piece \u003ci>Portrait Medallions\u003c/i>, a collage of vaginas constructed out of porcelain and lace in various shapes.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“The work was really investigating how the material signifier can evoke the idea of a feminine presence and also a little of that sexual delight,” Brannvall says. “My piece brings in an element of desire and pleasure and an affirmation of the beauty of the female form.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11377521\" class=\"wp-caption alignnone\" style=\"max-width: 770px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-11377521\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Untitled-770x600.jpg\" alt=\"Cynthia Brannvall's "Portrait Medallions."\" width=\"770\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Untitled-770x600.jpg 770w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Untitled-400x312.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Untitled-768x598.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Untitled.jpg 800w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 770px) 100vw, 770px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Cynthia Brannvall’s “Portrait Medallions.” \u003ccite>(Courtesy: Cynthia Brannvall)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Another piece by South Bay artist \u003ca href=\"http://elianacetto.com/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Eliana Cetto\u003c/a> deals with the vulnerability of the female body in public. Cetto filmed herself undressing in front of a green screen onto which different public places in her San Jose neighborhood are projected.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“I basically created a virtual place where I could feel empowered and I can point out to the viewer that I’m not really safe whether I’m clothed or unclothed — it’s really the gaze of the viewer and the eyes of the people on the street that are the culprit,” Cetto says.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11377386\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 450px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-11377386 size-medium\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66471-450x600.jpg\" alt=\"The exhibit addresses violence, oppression and ideas on the female body in an attempt to deconstruct female perfection.\" width=\"450\" height=\"600\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66471-450x600.jpg 450w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66471-400x533.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/IMG_66471.jpg 600w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 450px) 100vw, 450px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">The exhibit addresses violence, oppression and ideas on the female body in an attempt to deconstruct female perfection. \u003ccite>(Creo Noveno/KQED)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Rivera says she hopes that the collection’s examination of the ways women perceive their own perfection and connection to womanhood will inspire conversations and create opportunities for young women and children. Galería de la Raza itself has a history of being a women-led space, with the current staff largely filled by women of color.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>“Women have always been part of the Galería history — we’re very intentional about creating opportunities for women, about training women in arts production and administration, about providing a platform for oppressed and marginalized people,” Rivera says. “Our survival is dependent on being able to reach out to new voices and being able to give them a space.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cb>\u003ci>Womxn Are Perfect!\u003c/i>\u003c/b> holds an opening reception on Saturday, March 5, 6-9pm at Galería de la Raza in San Francisco. The exhibition is on view through March 26. For more information visit \u003ca href=\"http://www.galeriadelaraza.org/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">galeriadelaraza.org\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"title": "Nayomi Munaweera's 'What Lies Between Us,' a Devastating Portrait of Motherhood",
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"content": "\u003cp>Mothers, especially in America, can’t seem to catch a break. Let your child run wild in the woods or unchaperoned to the neighborhood market, and risk being arrested for neglect. Watch your child like a hawk, and risk accusations of \u003ca href=\"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Helicopter_parent\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">helicopter parenting\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For these reasons, the opening lines of \u003cem>What Lies Between Us\u003c/em> by Nayomi Munaweera gripped my imagination. Ganga, the novel’s narrator, is housed in a white cell painted an “industrial white.” The Sri Lankan-born American immigrant has done something “unthinkable,” an act that has made her the “worst thing possible,” a bad mother.\u003c/p>\n\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>“But here’s the secret: in America there are no good mothers. They simply don’t exist. Always, there are a thousand ways to fail at this singularly important job. There are failures of the body and failures of the heart. The woman who is unable to breastfeed is a failure. The woman who screams for an epidural is a failure. The woman who picks up her child late knows from the teacher’s cutting glance that she is a failure. The woman who shares her bed with her baby has failed. The woman who steels herself and puts on noise-canceling earphones to erase the screaming of her child in the next room has failed just as spectacularly. They must all hang their heads in guilt and shame because they haven’t done it perfectly, and motherhood is, if anything, the assumption of perfection.”\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>Soon, we learn that Ganga’s crime is much more severe.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Before the details are revealed, the novel jumps into the narrator’s history, starting with her traumatic birth in Sri Lanka which left her mother unable to bear more children. Amma, Ganga’s mother, grew up in a poor household, but married into a wealthy, ancestrally important Sinhalese Buddhist family. Ganga’s reclusive but seemingly loving father is a professor, though he works out of choice and not necessity, and her mother swings between gushing, almost overbearing love for her only child and a violent need to be alone. Amma suffers from migraines and spends days shut away in her room; at other moments, she floats around the kitchen cooking lemon crepes and watching with delighted love as her daughter wolfs down her food.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11356827 aligncenter\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/D33DE226-DE52-4009-87AE-90660AD7F530Img400.jpg\" alt=\"{D33DE226-DE52-4009-87AE-90660AD7F530}Img400\" width=\"300\" height=\"400\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As Ganga grows older, Thatha, her father, spends increasing amounts of time shut away in his office, drinking arrack — a South Asian liquor — and grading papers. As youngsters are prone to do, Ganga turns to other adults for companionship. She talks with Sita, the family’s lifelong cook in the kitchen, and spends much time with Samson, the handyman and gardener.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But as Ganga approaches puberty, her innocent and pleasurable friendship with Samson morphs, suddenly churning into a poisonous shame. “Shame is female; shame is the price I must pay for this body,” she thinks. \u003cstrong>Tragedy ensues, and\u003c/strong> Ganga and her mother eventually must leave the island for America, where they’ve been offered a home with Amma’s sister, her husband, and daughter, a first cousin who becomes Ganga’s best friend and first love.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ganga carries the shame, and the memory of lost men — her father and Samson — into her adult life in America. She studies at UC Berkeley, watching from afar as her cousin back home marries a Sri Lankan man and falls into the old ways of womanhood: motherhood, arranged marriage, little freedom. Ganga doesn’t want this, and she forges her own path, with unexpected consequences. After years of celibacy, she meets Daniel, an artist from a white, middle-class Southern family; he is the first man she feels safe with, comfortable enough to shed her defenses — and her clothes. Eventually, they marry, and soon after Daniel becomes a San Francisco art star. At the same time, their daughter is born, despite original misgivings about having children. Light-skinned, fair-haired Bodhi Ann upends their lives for good.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I’m unsure if it’s because I’m a mother to a daughter close in age to Bodhi Ann, Ganga’s daughter in \u003cem>What Lies Between Us\u003c/em>, but I found the passages about the connection between mother and daughter to be especially affecting. Munaweera writes with a taut, insightful awareness of the fraught nature of motherhood. One minute, it’s all dandelions, unicorns and sunshine, the next a cave of resentment and anger. It can be difficult to find the middle ground.\u003c/p>\n\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>“There is a sensation of a shroud dropped over my head, no more air to breathe. I don’t like this, I realize. I don’t like being a mommy. I love my child, but I don’t like motherhood. Motherhood is a constancy of a pair of eyes seeking you out, wanting you, needing you. It is the feeling that there is no darkness, no private place, no escape from those small but piercing eyes. I had not thought a child could intrude so completely on one’s solitude. I see now that she does not share my serenity but rather disrupts and shatters it. Now wherever I go, her eyes track me like a hunter’s.”\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>The last half of \u003cem>What Lies Between Us\u003c/em> is woven with a dreadful tension; we know from the novel’s opening sentences that something terrible will happen, but we somehow want to bring it to a skidding halt. Why can’t Ganga have her happy ending, her “sweetest of homecomings” to her “holy trinity” of mother, father, and child?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But the weight of the past, of horrific abuses of familial power, have scarred Ganga beyond repair. “They say that family is the place of safety. But sometimes this is the greatest lie; family is not sanctuary, it is not safety and succor. For some of us, it is the secret wound,” thinks Ganga, as everything comes to a head. “Sooner or later we pay for the woundings of our ancestors. This was the truth for me and for my beautiful bright-faced child.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There is no turning back, and we are along for the ride with Ganga to the deepest of waters. The swelling, driven by Munaweera’s opulent, lyrical sentences, will not abate.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Mothers, especially in America, can’t seem to catch a break. Let your child run wild in the woods or unchaperoned to the neighborhood market, and risk being arrested for neglect. Watch your child like a hawk, and risk accusations of \u003ca href=\"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Helicopter_parent\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">helicopter parenting\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>For these reasons, the opening lines of \u003cem>What Lies Between Us\u003c/em> by Nayomi Munaweera gripped my imagination. Ganga, the novel’s narrator, is housed in a white cell painted an “industrial white.” The Sri Lankan-born American immigrant has done something “unthinkable,” an act that has made her the “worst thing possible,” a bad mother.\u003c/p>\n\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>“But here’s the secret: in America there are no good mothers. They simply don’t exist. Always, there are a thousand ways to fail at this singularly important job. There are failures of the body and failures of the heart. The woman who is unable to breastfeed is a failure. The woman who screams for an epidural is a failure. The woman who picks up her child late knows from the teacher’s cutting glance that she is a failure. The woman who shares her bed with her baby has failed. The woman who steels herself and puts on noise-canceling earphones to erase the screaming of her child in the next room has failed just as spectacularly. They must all hang their heads in guilt and shame because they haven’t done it perfectly, and motherhood is, if anything, the assumption of perfection.”\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>Soon, we learn that Ganga’s crime is much more severe.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Before the details are revealed, the novel jumps into the narrator’s history, starting with her traumatic birth in Sri Lanka which left her mother unable to bear more children. Amma, Ganga’s mother, grew up in a poor household, but married into a wealthy, ancestrally important Sinhalese Buddhist family. Ganga’s reclusive but seemingly loving father is a professor, though he works out of choice and not necessity, and her mother swings between gushing, almost overbearing love for her only child and a violent need to be alone. Amma suffers from migraines and spends days shut away in her room; at other moments, she floats around the kitchen cooking lemon crepes and watching with delighted love as her daughter wolfs down her food.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11356827 aligncenter\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/D33DE226-DE52-4009-87AE-90660AD7F530Img400.jpg\" alt=\"{D33DE226-DE52-4009-87AE-90660AD7F530}Img400\" width=\"300\" height=\"400\">\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>As Ganga grows older, Thatha, her father, spends increasing amounts of time shut away in his office, drinking arrack — a South Asian liquor — and grading papers. As youngsters are prone to do, Ganga turns to other adults for companionship. She talks with Sita, the family’s lifelong cook in the kitchen, and spends much time with Samson, the handyman and gardener.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But as Ganga approaches puberty, her innocent and pleasurable friendship with Samson morphs, suddenly churning into a poisonous shame. “Shame is female; shame is the price I must pay for this body,” she thinks. \u003cstrong>Tragedy ensues, and\u003c/strong> Ganga and her mother eventually must leave the island for America, where they’ve been offered a home with Amma’s sister, her husband, and daughter, a first cousin who becomes Ganga’s best friend and first love.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Ganga carries the shame, and the memory of lost men — her father and Samson — into her adult life in America. She studies at UC Berkeley, watching from afar as her cousin back home marries a Sri Lankan man and falls into the old ways of womanhood: motherhood, arranged marriage, little freedom. Ganga doesn’t want this, and she forges her own path, with unexpected consequences. After years of celibacy, she meets Daniel, an artist from a white, middle-class Southern family; he is the first man she feels safe with, comfortable enough to shed her defenses — and her clothes. Eventually, they marry, and soon after Daniel becomes a San Francisco art star. At the same time, their daughter is born, despite original misgivings about having children. Light-skinned, fair-haired Bodhi Ann upends their lives for good.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>I’m unsure if it’s because I’m a mother to a daughter close in age to Bodhi Ann, Ganga’s daughter in \u003cem>What Lies Between Us\u003c/em>, but I found the passages about the connection between mother and daughter to be especially affecting. Munaweera writes with a taut, insightful awareness of the fraught nature of motherhood. One minute, it’s all dandelions, unicorns and sunshine, the next a cave of resentment and anger. It can be difficult to find the middle ground.\u003c/p>\n\u003cblockquote>\u003cp>“There is a sensation of a shroud dropped over my head, no more air to breathe. I don’t like this, I realize. I don’t like being a mommy. I love my child, but I don’t like motherhood. Motherhood is a constancy of a pair of eyes seeking you out, wanting you, needing you. It is the feeling that there is no darkness, no private place, no escape from those small but piercing eyes. I had not thought a child could intrude so completely on one’s solitude. I see now that she does not share my serenity but rather disrupts and shatters it. Now wherever I go, her eyes track me like a hunter’s.”\u003c/p>\u003c/blockquote>\n\u003cp>The last half of \u003cem>What Lies Between Us\u003c/em> is woven with a dreadful tension; we know from the novel’s opening sentences that something terrible will happen, but we somehow want to bring it to a skidding halt. Why can’t Ganga have her happy ending, her “sweetest of homecomings” to her “holy trinity” of mother, father, and child?\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But the weight of the past, of horrific abuses of familial power, have scarred Ganga beyond repair. “They say that family is the place of safety. But sometimes this is the greatest lie; family is not sanctuary, it is not safety and succor. For some of us, it is the secret wound,” thinks Ganga, as everything comes to a head. “Sooner or later we pay for the woundings of our ancestors. This was the truth for me and for my beautiful bright-faced child.”\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>There is no turning back, and we are along for the ride with Ganga to the deepest of waters. The swelling, driven by Munaweera’s opulent, lyrical sentences, will not abate.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"title": "SOMArts’ ‘Timeless Motion’ Electrifies Invisible Forces",
"headTitle": "SOMArts’ ‘Timeless Motion’ Electrifies Invisible Forces | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>In the late 19th century, at the dawn of the electric age, famous spiritualists traveled the country selling the promise of contact with “the other side.” An interest in unseen, possibly supernatural, energies developed apace with the introduction of electricity, that invisible force illuminating the night and animating formerly lifeless objects. In 2016, I thought of this legacy as I stepped into \u003ci>\u003ca href=\"http://www.somarts.org/timelessmotion/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Timeless Motion\u003c/a>\u003c/i>, a multimedia exhibition of local moving image artists currently on view at San Francisco’s SOMArts.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11372517\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-11372517 size-full\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Install.gif\" alt=\"Installion view of Scott Stark, 'Low-Res Arborscope,' 2016.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"800\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Installation view of Scott Stark, ‘Low-Res Arborscope,’ 2016. \u003ccite>(Photo: Dan Fenstermacher/SOMArts)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The first piece in the gallery is Scott Stark’s \u003cem>Low-Res Arborscope\u003c/em>, a wasteland as gray as Dorothy’s Kansas inhabited by a forest of dead tree parts. On one end a projector shoots its images toward slats of wood swinging in a fan’s breeze. The light that spills around the edges of this moving screen generates a force field, a no-go zone created by either the forbidding nature of the lifeless detritus or the perceived inviolability of art in a gallery setting. Whatever the cause and whatever the purpose, one begins to think post-apocalyptically of disasters in the making and what will be left behind.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This piece (though not my favorite in the show) effectively promotes \u003ci>Timeless Motion\u003c/i>’s thesis, creating a dead space in the middle of the gallery with clearly permeable borders between past, present and a possible future. The landscape, already harsh, is made more forbidding with the addition of electric light, which both illuminates and defines the installation as a kind of afterlife.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11359170\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-11359170 size-full\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/21401391844_1643f9dae7_k-e1456875336662.jpg\" alt=\"Paul Clipson, 'FUNERA ET SERPENTIUM,' 2015.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"573\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Paul Clipson, ‘FUNERA ET SERPENTIUM,’ 2015. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of the artist and SOMArts)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>In stark contrast (no pun intended, Scott), Paul Clipson’s 16mm film \u003cem>FUNERA ET SERPENTIUM\u003c/em> soothes the eye and calms the nervous system. Clipson works exclusively in celluloid, generating gorgeous multi-colored and multi-layered images with in-camera effects. His world seems populated with visual delight, which he eagerly captures and shares. The warmth of Clipson’s photographic process, even when the imagery is of cityscapes and electric light patterns, fosters an organic feeling, a celebration of human activity that feels positive — a kind of communion with both the natural world and the built environment.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In two other closed-off sections of the gallery, viewers encounter the sublime with Kerry Laitala’s \u003cem>The Retrospectroscope\u003c/em> and \u003cem>The Cosmoscope\u003c/em>, kinetic sculptures creating mind-bending worlds that threaten to engulf and destroy. Signs warn the viewer to beware of possible seizure-inducing effects before entering into the tiny curtained rooms where dangerous disks (exploded \u003ca href=\"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zoetrope\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">zoetropes\u003c/a>, 19th-century inventions that predicted cinema) swirl in front of strobe lights.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11372526\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-11372526 size-full\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Cosmo1200.jpg\" alt=\"Kerry Laitala, Detail of 'The Cosmoscope,' 2016.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"800\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Cosmo1200.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Cosmo1200-400x267.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Cosmo1200-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Cosmo1200-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Cosmo1200-1180x787.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Cosmo1200-960x640.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Kerry Laitala, Detail of ‘The Cosmoscope,’ 2016. \u003ccite>(Photo: Dan Fenstermacher/SOMArts)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The combination of cramped space, swirling motion and flashing lights created instant nausea for me. Laitala’s works offered an experience of beauty ultimately denied (to me) by their own dangerous nature. Another 19th-century allusion came to mind — that of a medicine man offering cures but selling poisons.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Laitala’s other works, called “Cosmo-Electro-photographs” confirm \u003ci>Timeless Motion\u003c/i>’s desire to connect electricity and spirituality. A group of large prints resembling mandalas are actually camera-less photos, the result of electrical discharge from etched plates — invisible forces captured, frozen and hung on the wall.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Mark Wilson continues this fascination with pre-20th century signs and symbols in works spread across the walls of the exhibition. Once again referencing the zoetrope in presentation, Wilson’s pieces also concern themselves with ritual images and relics of ancient cultures now rendered silent and unknowable.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11372521\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11372521\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Quillian1200.jpg\" alt=\"Viewer and Kathleen Quillian's 'Expanded View,' 2016.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"800\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Quillian1200.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Quillian1200-400x267.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Quillian1200-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Quillian1200-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Quillian1200-1180x787.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Quillian1200-960x640.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Viewer and Kathleen Quillian’s ‘Expanded View,’ 2016. \u003ccite>(Photo: Dan Fenstermacher/SOMArts)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Kathleen Quillian’s \u003cem>Expanded View\u003c/em> is both a stop-motion animated video (reminiscent of Lewis Klahr, Martha Colburn, and Larry Jordan’s work) and a flat explosion of the images she used to create that animation affixed to the wall. The animated video is frenetic and full of witty juxtapositions, but the static collages trap and dissipate the video’s energy, perhaps in an attempt to reverse the polarity of the exhibition. Where electricity brings the other works to life, Quillian demonstrates how its lack causes a tiny death.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11372523\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 427px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11372523\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Tele640.jpg\" alt=\"Viewer and Keith Evans' 'Lenticle to the Sun,' 2016.\" width=\"427\" height=\"640\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Tele640.jpg 427w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Tele640-400x600.jpg 400w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 427px) 100vw, 427px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Viewer and Keith Evans’ ‘Lenticle to the Sun,’ 2016. \u003ccite>(Photo: Dan Fenstermacher/SOMArts)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Elsewhere, Keith Evans’ \u003cem>Lenticle to the Sun\u003c/em> is an installation built into the floor of the gallery. A phonograph causes bicycle wheels to slowly rotate under a large piece of Plexiglas; a telescope sits on top of the plexi, pointing at a projection high up on an opposite wall. Look through the telescope lens and see a mystery. Perhaps this is always how we ponder the sky; and perhaps \u003cem>Lenticle to the Sun\u003c/em> is merely a description of looking, a questioning of the nature of what we see but can never truly know.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The final work in the show, Jeanne Liotta’s \u003cem>Diagram Squared\u003c/em>, is equally mysterious. A short video of 1970s scientific animations project onto two inkjet prints. Though the animations were created to demonstrate specific processes, Liotta strips them of their soundtracks and therefore their didactic content. The will to explain is stifled by our inability to comprehend. But what can we know? The universe is in timeless motion, guided by dark matter and unseen forces we may never detect, much less understand.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003ci>Timeless Motion\u003c/i>\u003c/strong> is on view through March 23, 2016 at SOMArts in San Francisco. For more information visit \u003ca href=\"http://www.somarts.org/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">somarts.org\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>In the late 19th century, at the dawn of the electric age, famous spiritualists traveled the country selling the promise of contact with “the other side.” An interest in unseen, possibly supernatural, energies developed apace with the introduction of electricity, that invisible force illuminating the night and animating formerly lifeless objects. In 2016, I thought of this legacy as I stepped into \u003ci>\u003ca href=\"http://www.somarts.org/timelessmotion/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Timeless Motion\u003c/a>\u003c/i>, a multimedia exhibition of local moving image artists currently on view at San Francisco’s SOMArts.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11372517\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-11372517 size-full\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Install.gif\" alt=\"Installion view of Scott Stark, 'Low-Res Arborscope,' 2016.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"800\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Installation view of Scott Stark, ‘Low-Res Arborscope,’ 2016. \u003ccite>(Photo: Dan Fenstermacher/SOMArts)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The first piece in the gallery is Scott Stark’s \u003cem>Low-Res Arborscope\u003c/em>, a wasteland as gray as Dorothy’s Kansas inhabited by a forest of dead tree parts. On one end a projector shoots its images toward slats of wood swinging in a fan’s breeze. The light that spills around the edges of this moving screen generates a force field, a no-go zone created by either the forbidding nature of the lifeless detritus or the perceived inviolability of art in a gallery setting. Whatever the cause and whatever the purpose, one begins to think post-apocalyptically of disasters in the making and what will be left behind.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>This piece (though not my favorite in the show) effectively promotes \u003ci>Timeless Motion\u003c/i>’s thesis, creating a dead space in the middle of the gallery with clearly permeable borders between past, present and a possible future. The landscape, already harsh, is made more forbidding with the addition of electric light, which both illuminates and defines the installation as a kind of afterlife.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11359170\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-11359170 size-full\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/21401391844_1643f9dae7_k-e1456875336662.jpg\" alt=\"Paul Clipson, 'FUNERA ET SERPENTIUM,' 2015.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"573\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Paul Clipson, ‘FUNERA ET SERPENTIUM,’ 2015. \u003ccite>(Courtesy of the artist and SOMArts)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>In stark contrast (no pun intended, Scott), Paul Clipson’s 16mm film \u003cem>FUNERA ET SERPENTIUM\u003c/em> soothes the eye and calms the nervous system. Clipson works exclusively in celluloid, generating gorgeous multi-colored and multi-layered images with in-camera effects. His world seems populated with visual delight, which he eagerly captures and shares. The warmth of Clipson’s photographic process, even when the imagery is of cityscapes and electric light patterns, fosters an organic feeling, a celebration of human activity that feels positive — a kind of communion with both the natural world and the built environment.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>In two other closed-off sections of the gallery, viewers encounter the sublime with Kerry Laitala’s \u003cem>The Retrospectroscope\u003c/em> and \u003cem>The Cosmoscope\u003c/em>, kinetic sculptures creating mind-bending worlds that threaten to engulf and destroy. Signs warn the viewer to beware of possible seizure-inducing effects before entering into the tiny curtained rooms where dangerous disks (exploded \u003ca href=\"https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zoetrope\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">zoetropes\u003c/a>, 19th-century inventions that predicted cinema) swirl in front of strobe lights.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11372526\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"wp-image-11372526 size-full\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Cosmo1200.jpg\" alt=\"Kerry Laitala, Detail of 'The Cosmoscope,' 2016.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"800\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Cosmo1200.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Cosmo1200-400x267.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Cosmo1200-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Cosmo1200-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Cosmo1200-1180x787.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/03/Cosmo1200-960x640.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Kerry Laitala, Detail of ‘The Cosmoscope,’ 2016. \u003ccite>(Photo: Dan Fenstermacher/SOMArts)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The combination of cramped space, swirling motion and flashing lights created instant nausea for me. Laitala’s works offered an experience of beauty ultimately denied (to me) by their own dangerous nature. Another 19th-century allusion came to mind — that of a medicine man offering cures but selling poisons.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Laitala’s other works, called “Cosmo-Electro-photographs” confirm \u003ci>Timeless Motion\u003c/i>’s desire to connect electricity and spirituality. A group of large prints resembling mandalas are actually camera-less photos, the result of electrical discharge from etched plates — invisible forces captured, frozen and hung on the wall.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Mark Wilson continues this fascination with pre-20th century signs and symbols in works spread across the walls of the exhibition. Once again referencing the zoetrope in presentation, Wilson’s pieces also concern themselves with ritual images and relics of ancient cultures now rendered silent and unknowable.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11372521\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 1200px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11372521\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Quillian1200.jpg\" alt=\"Viewer and Kathleen Quillian's 'Expanded View,' 2016.\" width=\"1200\" height=\"800\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Quillian1200.jpg 1200w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Quillian1200-400x267.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Quillian1200-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Quillian1200-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Quillian1200-1180x787.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Quillian1200-960x640.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 1200px) 100vw, 1200px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Viewer and Kathleen Quillian’s ‘Expanded View,’ 2016. \u003ccite>(Photo: Dan Fenstermacher/SOMArts)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Kathleen Quillian’s \u003cem>Expanded View\u003c/em> is both a stop-motion animated video (reminiscent of Lewis Klahr, Martha Colburn, and Larry Jordan’s work) and a flat explosion of the images she used to create that animation affixed to the wall. The animated video is frenetic and full of witty juxtapositions, but the static collages trap and dissipate the video’s energy, perhaps in an attempt to reverse the polarity of the exhibition. Where electricity brings the other works to life, Quillian demonstrates how its lack causes a tiny death.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11372523\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 427px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-full wp-image-11372523\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Tele640.jpg\" alt=\"Viewer and Keith Evans' 'Lenticle to the Sun,' 2016.\" width=\"427\" height=\"640\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Tele640.jpg 427w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Tele640-400x600.jpg 400w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 427px) 100vw, 427px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Viewer and Keith Evans’ ‘Lenticle to the Sun,’ 2016. \u003ccite>(Photo: Dan Fenstermacher/SOMArts)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>Elsewhere, Keith Evans’ \u003cem>Lenticle to the Sun\u003c/em> is an installation built into the floor of the gallery. A phonograph causes bicycle wheels to slowly rotate under a large piece of Plexiglas; a telescope sits on top of the plexi, pointing at a projection high up on an opposite wall. Look through the telescope lens and see a mystery. Perhaps this is always how we ponder the sky; and perhaps \u003cem>Lenticle to the Sun\u003c/em> is merely a description of looking, a questioning of the nature of what we see but can never truly know.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The final work in the show, Jeanne Liotta’s \u003cem>Diagram Squared\u003c/em>, is equally mysterious. A short video of 1970s scientific animations project onto two inkjet prints. Though the animations were created to demonstrate specific processes, Liotta strips them of their soundtracks and therefore their didactic content. The will to explain is stifled by our inability to comprehend. But what can we know? The universe is in timeless motion, guided by dark matter and unseen forces we may never detect, much less understand.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003ci>Timeless Motion\u003c/i>\u003c/strong> is on view through March 23, 2016 at SOMArts in San Francisco. For more information visit \u003ca href=\"http://www.somarts.org/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">somarts.org\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"content": "\u003cp>Broadway has long been a nostalgia machine, taking bobby soxers, baby boomers and the bell-bottom crowd back, respectively, to the 1950s (\u003cem>Grease\u003c/em>), 1960s (\u003cem>Hair\u003c/em>) and 1970s (\u003cem>Mama Mia!\u003c/em>) with unabashed euphoria.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The musical adaptation of \u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.shnsf.com/Online/default.asp?BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::permalink=dirtydancing&BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::context_id=\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Dirty Dancing\u003c/a>\u003c/em>, based on the 1987 feelgood movie romance starring Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey, does the same thing for those of us who came of age at a time when \u003cem>Fame\u003c/em> and \u003cem>Flashdance\u003c/em> were all the rage. Never mind that \u003cem>Dirty Dancing\u003c/em> is set in the summer of 1963; every teenage girl who saw the movie when it came out procured a pair of denim cutoffs and a taste for dudes in wife-beaters and quiffs.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11370195\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-11370195\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/dd03c-e1456797097949-800x533.jpg\" alt=\"A scene from the North American tour of 'Dirty Dancing'\" width=\"800\" height=\"533\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/dd03c-e1456797097949-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/dd03c-e1456797097949-400x267.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/dd03c-e1456797097949-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/dd03c-e1456797097949-1180x787.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/dd03c-e1456797097949-1920x1280.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/dd03c-e1456797097949-960x640.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A scene from the North American tour of ‘Dirty Dancing’ \u003ccite>(Photo: Matthew Murphy)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The musical version, which follows the movie’s plot about the creative and sexual awakening of awkward teen Frances “Baby” Houseman in the arms of bad boy dancer Johnny Castle and includes many of the movie’s original lines and songs, came out of Australia more than 10 years ago. Despite patchy reviews, the show has been selling out theaters all over the world ever since, largely by tapping into our collective yearning for the past — a yearning that apparently overrides anyone’s appetite for a quality art experience.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While I couldn’t even remotely pretend to have “had the time of my life,” as the musical’s most famous song goes, \u003cem>Dirty Dancing\u003c/em> has, unsurprisingly, massive appeal to groups of ladies in their 40s looking to escape their toddler-infused lives for a few hours. The Golden Gate Theater was packed with this demographic the night I attended the show. And everyone screamed in all the right places — when hunky Christopher Tierney as Johnny Castle intones the immortal line, “nobody puts Baby in a corner,” and especially when the buff performer takes off his shirt. Oh, and the dancing is fantastic.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Watch the sizzling sizzle reel for the U.S. tour:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ciframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"DIRTY DANCING North American Tour Sizzle Reel\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https://www.youtube.com/embed/0FhRIJO-7Cg?feature=oembed\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share\" referrerpolicy=\"strict-origin-when-cross-origin\" allowfullscreen>\u003c/iframe>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Dirty Dancing\u003c/em> runs through Sunday, Mar. 20 at the Golden Gate Theater in San Francisco. Find out more \u003ca href=\"https://www.shnsf.com/Online/default.asp?BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::permalink=dirtydancing&BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::context_id=\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">here\u003c/a>.\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Broadway has long been a nostalgia machine, taking bobby soxers, baby boomers and the bell-bottom crowd back, respectively, to the 1950s (\u003cem>Grease\u003c/em>), 1960s (\u003cem>Hair\u003c/em>) and 1970s (\u003cem>Mama Mia!\u003c/em>) with unabashed euphoria.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>The musical adaptation of \u003cem>\u003ca href=\"https://www.shnsf.com/Online/default.asp?BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::permalink=dirtydancing&BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::context_id=\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Dirty Dancing\u003c/a>\u003c/em>, based on the 1987 feelgood movie romance starring Patrick Swayze and Jennifer Grey, does the same thing for those of us who came of age at a time when \u003cem>Fame\u003c/em> and \u003cem>Flashdance\u003c/em> were all the rage. Never mind that \u003cem>Dirty Dancing\u003c/em> is set in the summer of 1963; every teenage girl who saw the movie when it came out procured a pair of denim cutoffs and a taste for dudes in wife-beaters and quiffs.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11370195\" class=\"wp-caption alignright\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-11370195\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/dd03c-e1456797097949-800x533.jpg\" alt=\"A scene from the North American tour of 'Dirty Dancing'\" width=\"800\" height=\"533\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/dd03c-e1456797097949-800x533.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/dd03c-e1456797097949-400x267.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/dd03c-e1456797097949-768x512.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/dd03c-e1456797097949-1180x787.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/dd03c-e1456797097949-1920x1280.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/dd03c-e1456797097949-960x640.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">A scene from the North American tour of ‘Dirty Dancing’ \u003ccite>(Photo: Matthew Murphy)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003cp>The musical version, which follows the movie’s plot about the creative and sexual awakening of awkward teen Frances “Baby” Houseman in the arms of bad boy dancer Johnny Castle and includes many of the movie’s original lines and songs, came out of Australia more than 10 years ago. Despite patchy reviews, the show has been selling out theaters all over the world ever since, largely by tapping into our collective yearning for the past — a yearning that apparently overrides anyone’s appetite for a quality art experience.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>While I couldn’t even remotely pretend to have “had the time of my life,” as the musical’s most famous song goes, \u003cem>Dirty Dancing\u003c/em> has, unsurprisingly, massive appeal to groups of ladies in their 40s looking to escape their toddler-infused lives for a few hours. The Golden Gate Theater was packed with this demographic the night I attended the show. And everyone screamed in all the right places — when hunky Christopher Tierney as Johnny Castle intones the immortal line, “nobody puts Baby in a corner,” and especially when the buff performer takes off his shirt. Oh, and the dancing is fantastic.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Watch the sizzling sizzle reel for the U.S. tour:\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003ciframe loading=\"lazy\" title=\"DIRTY DANCING North American Tour Sizzle Reel\" width=\"640\" height=\"360\" src=\"https://www.youtube.com/embed/0FhRIJO-7Cg?feature=oembed\" frameborder=\"0\" allow=\"accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share\" referrerpolicy=\"strict-origin-when-cross-origin\" allowfullscreen>\u003c/iframe>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003cstrong>\u003cem>Dirty Dancing\u003c/em> runs through Sunday, Mar. 20 at the Golden Gate Theater in San Francisco. Find out more \u003ca href=\"https://www.shnsf.com/Online/default.asp?BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::permalink=dirtydancing&BOparam::WScontent::loadArticle::context_id=\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">here\u003c/a>.\u003c/strong>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"title": "Carly, Vince and Kamasi: A Tale of Three Noise Pop Shows",
"headTitle": "Carly, Vince and Kamasi: A Tale of Three Noise Pop Shows | KQED",
"content": "\u003cp>Okay, so maybe the Noise Pop show to see this year really \u003cem>was\u003c/em> Drive Like Jehu? At least, if you accept the word of the band’s rabid fan base as law. “OMG BEST SHOW EVER,” “Nobody comes close – Jehu is God” and “Drive Like Jehu!! So amazing!!!” are three real \u003ca href=\"https://twitter.com/danielnazer/status/703514339370622976\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">status updates\u003c/a> from my own social media feed.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But you can only go to so many shows, especially when \u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/2016/02/29/live-review-prince-alone-with-a-piano-at-the-paramount-theatre-in-oakland/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Prince\u003c/a> decides to crash the Noise Pop party with a \u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/2016/02/29/live-review-prince-alone-with-a-piano-at-the-paramount-theatre-in-oakland/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">last-minute show in Oakland\u003c/a>. This year we also \u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/2015/11/19/noise-pop-branches-into-jazz-and-hip-hop-with-2016s-initial-lineup/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">strongly welcomed\u003c/a> the long-running festival’s branching out into jazz and hip-hop, as well as booking female-fronted acts when other festivals still seem \u003ca href=\"http://www.slate.com/blogs/browbeat/2015/01/09/coachella_2015_lineup_this_year_s_brochella_festival_isn_t_any_better_for.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">clueless on the concept\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So here’s to Noise Pop’s three major shows that weren’t four white guys with guitars: namely, Kamasi Washington at the Independent, Carly Rae Jepsen at the Warfield, and Vince Staples at the Social Hall SF.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11370082\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Kamasi.MAIN_.jpg-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"Kamasi Washington at the Independent, Feb. 25, 2016.\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-11370082\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Kamasi.MAIN_.jpg-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Kamasi.MAIN_.jpg-400x225.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Kamasi.MAIN_.jpg-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Kamasi.MAIN_.jpg-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Kamasi.MAIN_.jpg.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Kamasi.MAIN_.jpg-960x540.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Kamasi Washington at the Independent, Feb. 25, 2016. \u003ccite>(Gabe Meline)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch3>Kamasi Washington: What Jazz Needs Right Now\u003c/h3>\n\u003cp>It wasn’t just that within the first 10 minutes of Kamasi Washington’s set, I already wished that my family and friends and everyone I loved were with me, experiencing the same transcendence. It wasn’t just the series of climaxes reached by Washington’s eight-piece band, or the ceiling parting and rays of holy light shining down. It wasn’t just the feeling of family, literal and otherwise, on the stage, or the evident decades of shared experience among the players.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>No, it was the fact that Kamasi Washington was playing to his new crowd, which is to say a new-to-jazz crowd, one that discovered his latest album \u003cem>The Epic\u003c/em> through his association with Kendrick Lamar, or through indie-rock blogs, or through the electronic-heavy imprimatur of Brainfeeder Records. The jazz establishment tends to view Washington’s music as a stylistic retread of spiritual jazz, and that’s true; \u003cem>The Epic\u003c/em> essentially sounds like an Impulse Records album from the early 1970s. But if that same establishment could understand what Washington is doing for jazz, they might stop endlessly wringing their hands over how to attract a new generation to an art form perennially declared to be dying.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad fullwidth]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Here’s how you do it. Don’t play in concert halls. Don’t play in auditoriums or college theaters. Play this music in clubs, with a general-admission standing floor. Take away all stuffiness, all rules, all two-drink minimums. Play this music loud and proud to a room of people beaming, dancing, soaking in a new experience, a room that’s housed Mos Def and Major Lazer and DJ Shadow and Wilco and M.I.A. That’s how Kamasi Washington is doing it. Jazz today couldn’t ask for a better ambassador. — \u003cem>Gabe Meline\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11370083\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/CarlyRae1-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"Carly Rae Jepsen.\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-11370083\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/CarlyRae1.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/CarlyRae1-400x225.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/CarlyRae1-768x432.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Carly Rae Jepsen. \u003ccite>(Noise Pop)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch3>Carly Rae Jepsen: A Guilt-Free Celebration of Saccharine Pop\u003c/h3>\n\u003cp>Carly Rae Jepsen has a cold. She’s sorry about it; she makes sure to say this a few times. But if any of these 2,000 people at the Warfield mind, they ain’t showing it. They’re dancing in the balconies, leaning over the railing, wearing custom-made glitter CRJ shirts they’ve coordinated with their friends, belting the lyrics to “Emotion” back at their pint-size queen with all the giddy, overblown yet somehow intimate madness of a slumber party high on pixie sticks.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It helps, of course, that she sounds good. Her 2015 album \u003cem>E•MO•TION\u003c/em> is a guilty-pleasure piece of candy in and of itself, a love letter to ’80s Madonna but with all the overproduced sheen of, well, a 2015 pop album produced by Justin Bieber and Scooter Braun. So it was a pleasant surprise to realize her voice is much stronger than that level of digitization usually implies. Wearing a baggy T-shirt over fishnet tights, backed by an enthusiastic five-dude band, she dutifully churned through the hits — “Run Away With Me,” the so-dumb-it’s-brilliant “I Really Like You,” “Boy Problems,” and, of course, “Call Me Maybe,” with layers of harmony vocals supporting each anthemic wail.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1NImu3Q9Qv4\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>If there was a misstep, it was that she failed to realize being in San Francisco meant she was almost legally required to perform the theme from “Fuller House,” which she was tasked with upgrading for its 2016 reboot, and which debuted on Netflix this weekend. Lucky for you, if you really, really, really, really want to, you can just listen to that above. No discussion of congestion issues necessary. — \u003cem>Emma Silvers\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11370084\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/VinceStaples-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"Vince Staples at Social Hal SF, Feb. 26, 2016.\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-11370084\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/VinceStaples-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/VinceStaples-400x225.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/VinceStaples-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/VinceStaples-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/VinceStaples.jpg 1100w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Vince Staples at Social Hal SF, Feb. 26, 2016. \u003ccite>(Gabe Meline)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch3>Vince Staples: Playing the Crowd Like an Orchestra\u003c/h3>\n\u003cp>No, no, I don’t mean “playing the crowd” to mean “playing to the crowd.” Playing \u003cem>to\u003c/em> the crowd is the endless stream of “errybody feelin all right in the place tonight make some nooooise” and “raise your hands in the air one time right now,” that tried-and-true patter that’s lasted 30 years and shows no sign of shriveling up and dying. Vince Staples plays the crowd in the same way that DJ Khaled would have you believe that \u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lr7CKWxqhtw\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">you played yourself\u003c/a>. Vince Staples knows that you are young and white and likely did not come up in hip-hop but rather stumbled upon his music on Pitchfork. Vince Staples will throw that fact right back in your face instead of pandering to it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>[ad floatright]\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That’s exactly why Staples is refreshing — the equivalent of your snarky friend whose sarcasm underlines obvious truths that no one else talks about. In San Francisco, he announced he wanted people to go out and commit murder after a Vince Staples show and, when the inevitable cheer arose, said “See? That’s what’s wrong with the world, y’all cheering for that.” He talked about the last time he came to SF and promptly bailed to chill in Oakland instead. His DJ talked about wanting to visit Vallejo. It was not hard to see what was going on here: his new fanbase enjoys living vicariously through his grim stories of the streets in Long Beach, sensationalizing all of the excitement and internalizing none of the tragedy. How bizarre it must be to perform a reflective, sad album for an audience that uses it instead as a springboard for mental role-playing. Best to use that audience right back. — \u003cem>Gabe Meline\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n",
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"excerpt": "This year's Noise Pop festival found Kamasi Washington spreading the gospel, Carly Rae Jepsen indulging in sugar-coated pop and Vince Staples playing the crowd.",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003cp>Okay, so maybe the Noise Pop show to see this year really \u003cem>was\u003c/em> Drive Like Jehu? At least, if you accept the word of the band’s rabid fan base as law. “OMG BEST SHOW EVER,” “Nobody comes close – Jehu is God” and “Drive Like Jehu!! So amazing!!!” are three real \u003ca href=\"https://twitter.com/danielnazer/status/703514339370622976\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">status updates\u003c/a> from my own social media feed.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>But you can only go to so many shows, especially when \u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/2016/02/29/live-review-prince-alone-with-a-piano-at-the-paramount-theatre-in-oakland/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">Prince\u003c/a> decides to crash the Noise Pop party with a \u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/2016/02/29/live-review-prince-alone-with-a-piano-at-the-paramount-theatre-in-oakland/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">last-minute show in Oakland\u003c/a>. This year we also \u003ca href=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/2015/11/19/noise-pop-branches-into-jazz-and-hip-hop-with-2016s-initial-lineup/\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">strongly welcomed\u003c/a> the long-running festival’s branching out into jazz and hip-hop, as well as booking female-fronted acts when other festivals still seem \u003ca href=\"http://www.slate.com/blogs/browbeat/2015/01/09/coachella_2015_lineup_this_year_s_brochella_festival_isn_t_any_better_for.html\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">clueless on the concept\u003c/a>.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>So here’s to Noise Pop’s three major shows that weren’t four white guys with guitars: namely, Kamasi Washington at the Independent, Carly Rae Jepsen at the Warfield, and Vince Staples at the Social Hall SF.\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11370082\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Kamasi.MAIN_.jpg-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"Kamasi Washington at the Independent, Feb. 25, 2016.\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-11370082\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Kamasi.MAIN_.jpg-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Kamasi.MAIN_.jpg-400x225.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Kamasi.MAIN_.jpg-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Kamasi.MAIN_.jpg-1180x664.jpg 1180w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Kamasi.MAIN_.jpg.jpg 1920w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/Kamasi.MAIN_.jpg-960x540.jpg 960w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Kamasi Washington at the Independent, Feb. 25, 2016. \u003ccite>(Gabe Meline)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch3>Kamasi Washington: What Jazz Needs Right Now\u003c/h3>\n\u003cp>It wasn’t just that within the first 10 minutes of Kamasi Washington’s set, I already wished that my family and friends and everyone I loved were with me, experiencing the same transcendence. It wasn’t just the series of climaxes reached by Washington’s eight-piece band, or the ceiling parting and rays of holy light shining down. It wasn’t just the feeling of family, literal and otherwise, on the stage, or the evident decades of shared experience among the players.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>No, it was the fact that Kamasi Washington was playing to his new crowd, which is to say a new-to-jazz crowd, one that discovered his latest album \u003cem>The Epic\u003c/em> through his association with Kendrick Lamar, or through indie-rock blogs, or through the electronic-heavy imprimatur of Brainfeeder Records. The jazz establishment tends to view Washington’s music as a stylistic retread of spiritual jazz, and that’s true; \u003cem>The Epic\u003c/em> essentially sounds like an Impulse Records album from the early 1970s. But if that same establishment could understand what Washington is doing for jazz, they might stop endlessly wringing their hands over how to attract a new generation to an art form perennially declared to be dying.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>Here’s how you do it. Don’t play in concert halls. Don’t play in auditoriums or college theaters. Play this music in clubs, with a general-admission standing floor. Take away all stuffiness, all rules, all two-drink minimums. Play this music loud and proud to a room of people beaming, dancing, soaking in a new experience, a room that’s housed Mos Def and Major Lazer and DJ Shadow and Wilco and M.I.A. That’s how Kamasi Washington is doing it. Jazz today couldn’t ask for a better ambassador. — \u003cem>Gabe Meline\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11370083\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/CarlyRae1-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"Carly Rae Jepsen.\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-11370083\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/CarlyRae1.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/CarlyRae1-400x225.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/CarlyRae1-768x432.jpg 768w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Carly Rae Jepsen. \u003ccite>(Noise Pop)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch3>Carly Rae Jepsen: A Guilt-Free Celebration of Saccharine Pop\u003c/h3>\n\u003cp>Carly Rae Jepsen has a cold. She’s sorry about it; she makes sure to say this a few times. But if any of these 2,000 people at the Warfield mind, they ain’t showing it. They’re dancing in the balconies, leaning over the railing, wearing custom-made glitter CRJ shirts they’ve coordinated with their friends, belting the lyrics to “Emotion” back at their pint-size queen with all the giddy, overblown yet somehow intimate madness of a slumber party high on pixie sticks.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>It helps, of course, that she sounds good. Her 2015 album \u003cem>E•MO•TION\u003c/em> is a guilty-pleasure piece of candy in and of itself, a love letter to ’80s Madonna but with all the overproduced sheen of, well, a 2015 pop album produced by Justin Bieber and Scooter Braun. So it was a pleasant surprise to realize her voice is much stronger than that level of digitization usually implies. Wearing a baggy T-shirt over fishnet tights, backed by an enthusiastic five-dude band, she dutifully churned through the hits — “Run Away With Me,” the so-dumb-it’s-brilliant “I Really Like You,” “Boy Problems,” and, of course, “Call Me Maybe,” with layers of harmony vocals supporting each anthemic wail.\u003c/p>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cspan class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__embedYoutube'>\n \u003cspan class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__embedYoutubeInside'>\n \u003ciframe\n loading='lazy'\n class='utils-parseShortcode-shortcodes-__youtubeShortcode__youtubePlayer'\n type='text/html'\n src='//www.youtube.com/embed/1NImu3Q9Qv4'\n title='//www.youtube.com/embed/1NImu3Q9Qv4'\n allowfullscreen='true'\n style='border:0;'>\u003c/iframe>\n \u003c/span>\n \u003c/span>\u003c/p>\u003cp>\u003cp>If there was a misstep, it was that she failed to realize being in San Francisco meant she was almost legally required to perform the theme from “Fuller House,” which she was tasked with upgrading for its 2016 reboot, and which debuted on Netflix this weekend. Lucky for you, if you really, really, really, really want to, you can just listen to that above. No discussion of congestion issues necessary. — \u003cem>Emma Silvers\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\u003cfigure id=\"attachment_11370084\" class=\"wp-caption aligncenter\" style=\"max-width: 800px\">\u003cimg loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" src=\"http://ww2.kqed.org/arts/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/VinceStaples-800x450.jpg\" alt=\"Vince Staples at Social Hal SF, Feb. 26, 2016.\" width=\"800\" height=\"450\" class=\"size-medium wp-image-11370084\" srcset=\"https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/VinceStaples-800x450.jpg 800w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/VinceStaples-400x225.jpg 400w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/VinceStaples-768x432.jpg 768w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/VinceStaples-960x540.jpg 960w, https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2016/02/VinceStaples.jpg 1100w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 800px) 100vw, 800px\">\u003cfigcaption class=\"wp-caption-text\">Vince Staples at Social Hal SF, Feb. 26, 2016. \u003ccite>(Gabe Meline)\u003c/cite>\u003c/figcaption>\u003c/figure>\n\u003ch3>Vince Staples: Playing the Crowd Like an Orchestra\u003c/h3>\n\u003cp>No, no, I don’t mean “playing the crowd” to mean “playing to the crowd.” Playing \u003cem>to\u003c/em> the crowd is the endless stream of “errybody feelin all right in the place tonight make some nooooise” and “raise your hands in the air one time right now,” that tried-and-true patter that’s lasted 30 years and shows no sign of shriveling up and dying. Vince Staples plays the crowd in the same way that DJ Khaled would have you believe that \u003ca href=\"https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lr7CKWxqhtw\" target=\"_blank\" rel=\"noopener\">you played yourself\u003c/a>. Vince Staples knows that you are young and white and likely did not come up in hip-hop but rather stumbled upon his music on Pitchfork. Vince Staples will throw that fact right back in your face instead of pandering to it.\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>\u003c/p>\u003c/div>",
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"content": "\u003cdiv class=\"post-body\">\u003cp>\u003c/p>\n\u003cp>That’s exactly why Staples is refreshing — the equivalent of your snarky friend whose sarcasm underlines obvious truths that no one else talks about. In San Francisco, he announced he wanted people to go out and commit murder after a Vince Staples show and, when the inevitable cheer arose, said “See? That’s what’s wrong with the world, y’all cheering for that.” He talked about the last time he came to SF and promptly bailed to chill in Oakland instead. His DJ talked about wanting to visit Vallejo. It was not hard to see what was going on here: his new fanbase enjoys living vicariously through his grim stories of the streets in Long Beach, sensationalizing all of the excitement and internalizing none of the tragedy. How bizarre it must be to perform a reflective, sad album for an audience that uses it instead as a springboard for mental role-playing. Best to use that audience right back. — \u003cem>Gabe Meline\u003c/em>\u003c/p>\n\n\u003c/div>\u003c/p>",
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"info": "A one-hour radio program to hear celebrated writers, artists and thinkers address contemporary ideas and values, often discussing the creative process. Please note: tapes or transcripts are not available",
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"airtime": "SUN 1pm-2pm, TUE 10pm, WED 1am",
"meta": {
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"source": "City Arts & Lectures"
},
"link": "https://www.cityarts.net",
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"rss": "https://www.cityarts.net/feed/"
}
},
"closealltabs": {
"id": "closealltabs",
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"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/closealltabs",
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"order": 1
},
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"id": "code-switch-life-kit",
"title": "Code Switch / Life Kit",
"info": "\u003cem>Code Switch\u003c/em>, which listeners will hear in the first part of the hour, has fearless and much-needed conversations about race. Hosted by journalists of color, the show tackles the subject of race head-on, exploring how it impacts every part of society — from politics and pop culture to history, sports and more.\u003cbr />\u003cbr />\u003cem>Life Kit\u003c/em>, which will be in the second part of the hour, guides you through spaces and feelings no one prepares you for — from finances to mental health, from workplace microaggressions to imposter syndrome, from relationships to parenting. The show features experts with real world experience and shares their knowledge. Because everyone needs a little help being human.\u003cbr />\u003cbr />\u003ca href=\"https://www.npr.org/podcasts/510312/codeswitch\">\u003cem>Code Switch\u003c/em> offical site and podcast\u003c/a>\u003cbr />\u003ca href=\"https://www.npr.org/lifekit\">\u003cem>Life Kit\u003c/em> offical site and podcast\u003c/a>\u003cbr />",
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"id": "commonwealth-club",
"title": "Commonwealth Club of California Podcast",
"info": "The Commonwealth Club of California is the nation's oldest and largest public affairs forum. As a non-partisan forum, The Club brings to the public airwaves diverse viewpoints on important topics. The Club's weekly radio broadcast - the oldest in the U.S., dating back to 1924 - is carried across the nation on public radio stations and is now podcasting. Our website archive features audio of our recent programs, as well as selected speeches from our long and distinguished history. This podcast feed is usually updated twice a week and is always un-edited.",
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"meta": {
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"source": "Commonwealth Club of California"
},
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"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cDovL3d3dy5jb21tb253ZWFsdGhjbHViLm9yZy9hdWRpby9wb2RjYXN0L3dlZWtseS54bWw",
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"title": "Forum",
"tagline": "The conversation starts here",
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"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Forum-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
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"order": 9
},
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"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkM5NTU3MzgxNjMz",
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"officialWebsiteLink": "http://freakonomics.com/",
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"meta": {
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"source": "WNYC"
},
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"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/freakonomics-radio/id354668519",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/podcasts/WNYC-Podcasts/Freakonomics-Radio-p272293/",
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},
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"id": "fresh-air",
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"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=214089682&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
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"info": "A live production of NPR and WBUR Boston, in collaboration with stations across the country, Here & Now reflects the fluid world of news as it's happening in the middle of the day, with timely, in-depth news, interviews and conversation. Hosted by Robin Young, Jeremy Hobson and Tonya Mosley.",
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"hidden-brain": {
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"info": "Shankar Vedantam uses science and storytelling to reveal the unconscious patterns that drive human behavior, shape our choices and direct our relationships.",
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"airtime": "SUN 7pm-8pm",
"meta": {
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"source": "NPR"
},
"link": "/radio/program/hidden-brain",
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"how-i-built-this": {
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"title": "How I Built This with Guy Raz",
"info": "Guy Raz dives into the stories behind some of the world's best known companies. How I Built This weaves a narrative journey about innovators, entrepreneurs and idealists—and the movements they built.",
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"airtime": "SUN 7:30pm-8pm",
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"link": "/radio/program/how-i-built-this",
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"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/how-i-built-this-with-guy-raz/id1150510297?mt=2",
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"hyphenacion": {
"id": "hyphenacion",
"title": "Hyphenación",
"tagline": "Where conversation and cultura meet",
"info": "What kind of no sabo word is Hyphenación? For us, it’s about living within a hyphenation. Like being a third-gen Mexican-American from the Texas border now living that Bay Area Chicano life. Like Xorje! Each week we bring together a couple of hyphenated Latinos to talk all about personal life choices: family, careers, relationships, belonging … everything is on the table. ",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/03/Hyphenacion_FinalAssets_PodcastTile.png",
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"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/hyphenacion",
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"order": 15
},
"link": "/podcasts/hyphenacion",
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"spotify": "https://open.spotify.com/show/2p3Fifq96nw9BPcmFdIq0o?si=39209f7b25774f38",
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},
"jerrybrown": {
"id": "jerrybrown",
"title": "The Political Mind of Jerry Brown",
"tagline": "Lessons from a lifetime in politics",
"info": "The Political Mind of Jerry Brown brings listeners the wisdom of the former Governor, Mayor, and presidential candidate. Scott Shafer interviewed Brown for more than 40 hours, covering the former governor's life and half-century in the political game – and Brown has some lessons he'd like to share. ",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/The-Political-Mind-of-Jerry-Brown-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
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"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/jerrybrown",
"meta": {
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"order": 18
},
"link": "/podcasts/jerrybrown",
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"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/id1492194549",
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},
"latino-usa": {
"id": "latino-usa",
"title": "Latino USA",
"airtime": "MON 1am-2am, SUN 6pm-7pm",
"info": "Latino USA, the radio journal of news and culture, is the only national, English-language radio program produced from a Latino perspective.",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/latinoUsa.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "http://latinousa.org/",
"meta": {
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},
"link": "/radio/program/latino-usa",
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"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/WebObjects/MZStore.woa/wa/viewPodcast?s=143441&mt=2&id=79681317&at=11l79Y&ct=nprdirectory",
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"rss": "https://feeds.npr.org/510016/podcast.xml"
}
},
"marketplace": {
"id": "marketplace",
"title": "Marketplace",
"info": "Our flagship program, helmed by Kai Ryssdal, examines what the day in money delivered, through stories, conversations, newsworthy numbers and more. Updated Monday through Friday at about 3:30 p.m. PT.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 4pm-4:30pm, MON-WED 6:30pm-7pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Marketplace-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.marketplace.org/",
"meta": {
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"source": "American Public Media"
},
"link": "/radio/program/marketplace",
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},
"masters-of-scale": {
"id": "masters-of-scale",
"title": "Masters of Scale",
"info": "Masters of Scale is an original podcast in which LinkedIn co-founder and Greylock Partner Reid Hoffman sets out to describe and prove theories that explain how great entrepreneurs take their companies from zero to a gazillion in ingenious fashion.",
"airtime": "Every other Wednesday June 12 through October 16 at 8pm (repeats Thursdays at 2am)",
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"officialWebsiteLink": "https://mastersofscale.com/",
"meta": {
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"source": "WaitWhat"
},
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"rss": "https://rss.art19.com/masters-of-scale"
}
},
"mindshift": {
"id": "mindshift",
"title": "MindShift",
"tagline": "A podcast about the future of learning and how we raise our kids",
"info": "The MindShift podcast explores the innovations in education that are shaping how kids learn. Hosts Ki Sung and Katrina Schwartz introduce listeners to educators, researchers, parents and students who are developing effective ways to improve how kids learn. We cover topics like how fed-up administrators are developing surprising tactics to deal with classroom disruptions; how listening to podcasts are helping kids develop reading skills; the consequences of overparenting; and why interdisciplinary learning can engage students on all ends of the traditional achievement spectrum. This podcast is part of the MindShift education site, a division of KQED News. KQED is an NPR/PBS member station based in San Francisco. You can also visit the MindShift website for episodes and supplemental blog posts or tweet us \u003ca href=\"https://twitter.com/MindShiftKQED\">@MindShiftKQED\u003c/a> or visit us at \u003ca href=\"/mindshift\">MindShift.KQED.org\u003c/a>",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Mindshift-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
"imageAlt": "KQED MindShift: How We Will Learn",
"officialWebsiteLink": "/mindshift/",
"meta": {
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"source": "kqed",
"order": 12
},
"link": "/podcasts/mindshift",
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"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5tZWdhcGhvbmUuZm0vS1FJTkM1NzY0NjAwNDI5",
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}
},
"morning-edition": {
"id": "morning-edition",
"title": "Morning Edition",
"info": "\u003cem>Morning Edition\u003c/em> takes listeners around the country and the world with multi-faceted stories and commentaries every weekday. Hosts Steve Inskeep, David Greene and Rachel Martin bring you the latest breaking news and features to prepare you for the day.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 3am-9am",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/Morning-Edition-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.npr.org/programs/morning-edition/",
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"link": "/radio/program/morning-edition"
},
"onourwatch": {
"id": "onourwatch",
"title": "On Our Watch",
"tagline": "Deeply-reported investigative journalism",
"info": "For decades, the process for how police police themselves has been inconsistent – if not opaque. In some states, like California, these proceedings were completely hidden. After a new police transparency law unsealed scores of internal affairs files, our reporters set out to examine these cases and the shadow world of police discipline. On Our Watch brings listeners into the rooms where officers are questioned and witnesses are interrogated to find out who this system is really protecting. Is it the officers, or the public they've sworn to serve?",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/On-Our-Watch-Podcast-Tile-703x703-1.jpg",
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"officialWebsiteLink": "/podcasts/onourwatch",
"meta": {
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"source": "kqed",
"order": 11
},
"link": "/podcasts/onourwatch",
"subscribe": {
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"google": "https://podcasts.google.com/feed/aHR0cHM6Ly9mZWVkcy5ucHIub3JnLzUxMDM2MC9wb2RjYXN0LnhtbD9zYz1nb29nbGVwb2RjYXN0cw",
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},
"on-the-media": {
"id": "on-the-media",
"title": "On The Media",
"info": "Our weekly podcast explores how the media 'sausage' is made, casts an incisive eye on fluctuations in the marketplace of ideas, and examines threats to the freedom of information and expression in America and abroad. For one hour a week, the show tries to lift the veil from the process of \"making media,\" especially news media, because it's through that lens that we see the world and the world sees us",
"airtime": "SUN 2pm-3pm, MON 12am-1am",
"imageSrc": "https://ww2.kqed.org/radio/wp-content/uploads/sites/50/2018/04/onTheMedia.png",
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"meta": {
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"source": "wnyc"
},
"link": "/radio/program/on-the-media",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/on-the-media/id73330715?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/On-the-Media-p69/",
"rss": "http://feeds.wnyc.org/onthemedia"
}
},
"pbs-newshour": {
"id": "pbs-newshour",
"title": "PBS NewsHour",
"info": "Analysis, background reports and updates from the PBS NewsHour putting today's news in context.",
"airtime": "MON-FRI 3pm-4pm",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2024/04/PBS-News-Hour-Podcast-Tile-360x360-1.jpg",
"officialWebsiteLink": "https://www.pbs.org/newshour/",
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"source": "pbs"
},
"link": "/radio/program/pbs-newshour",
"subscribe": {
"apple": "https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/pbs-newshour-full-show/id394432287?mt=2",
"tuneIn": "https://tunein.com/radio/PBS-NewsHour---Full-Show-p425698/",
"rss": "https://www.pbs.org/newshour/feeds/rss/podcasts/show"
}
},
"perspectives": {
"id": "perspectives",
"title": "Perspectives",
"tagline": "KQED's series of daily listener commentaries since 1991",
"info": "KQED's series of daily listener commentaries since 1991.",
"imageSrc": "https://cdn.kqed.org/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/Perspectives_Tile_Final.jpg",
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"officialWebsiteLink": "/perspectives/",
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"source": "kqed",
"order": 14
},
"link": "/perspectives",
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