Tag: San Francisco

Relevant To My Interests #1

Without the attention span needed for well-crafted, long-form writing right now, I’m trying to do quick roundups of things that catch my attention. So here you have it, the first edition of what may be regular hot takes on things that are Relevant to My Interests.

Streaming. It took me awhile but I am now fully here for The Bear. So here for it that I blew through both seasons in a few short days. Every single character is written so well, it’s impossible not to love them all even when they dysfunctionally fail us at times. Want to best friends with Ayo Edebiri now, and, of course have a big ‘ole crush on Jeremy Allen White in all his young Gene Wilder glory. Plus, soundtrack on point. So many old favorites (Kevin Morby, Pearl Jam, Van Morrison, David Byrne, Radiohead, Andrew Bird, on and on) as well as solid new-to-me’s in the middle.

Eating/Drinking. A midweek meeting had me at Spec’s chatting with the bar’s owner, Maralisa, and longtime bartender, Mike, about history and other sorts of things in preparation for WNP’s second neighborhood trivia night with Fort Point Beer Co. on August 1st. Spec’s is central to my identity. I spent most of my 20s trying to understand my 20s in this bar. They have fancy natural wines now but I’m still partial to the house Cab or a Rye Whiskey. Afterwards, a group of us history gals met for dinner at Sam’s Grill for some solid Clam Chowder and Stuffed Petrale Sole “Marguery,” which is basically a seafood Turducken. We capped of our night in a very Wednesday-night-empty Pagan Idol. Downtown San Francisco is very different now but it most definitely still has its charms.

Wanted to watch the newest season of Endeavour so bad that I paid my boyfriend $8 for the pleasure of watching it via his Amazon Prime account. Only three episodes this season and I have a feeling Morse and Joan aren’t gonna get it together, but Shaun Evans has a great directorial eye and, again, soundtrack on point. Puccini, Verdi, Brahms, Chopin, Rachmaninoff….gangs all here. If you’ve been wanting to get into classical and opera but don’t know where to start, now you do!

You know what really holds up? Castle. Nathan Filion is a national treasure and this is good clean primetime murder comedy fun. Fun that, so far, doesn’t have the cringey aftertaste that can linger after watching some beloved beforetimes shows. And please, let us all stand for It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. We are now 16 ridiculous seasons in and I love it as much now as I did in 2005. Charlie Day forever. These are my sleepytime shows, lighthearted fare that I use when I’m not awake enough to read but not quite tired enough to go under naturally.

Reading. Tackling California, a Slave State by Jean Pfaelzer in preparation for a California Historical Society (CHS) virtual presentation I’ll be moderating on July 11th. The last book I read that rewrote my entire understanding of history like this was Jill Lepore’s These Truths: A History of the United States. Before that? Probably Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States. Not an easy read but, also, it shouldn’t be. A chapter on Spanish priests raping native women as a tool of conquest, another on enslaved African Americans fleeing to freedom in California only to find bondage by a different name here, another on the privatized prisons and extorted prison labor dating back to the 1850s. We’re a long way from the Gold Rush but have we really come that far? I don’t know. A particularly meaningful read in light of the Supreme Court’s ruling against affirmative action in college admissions this week. I’m not sure where this country is going and, as it turns out, I still have a lot to learn about where it’s been despite working as an historian and archivist for almost 20 years.

Otherwise, am totally obsessed with Adam Frank’s recent article “Scientists Found Ripples in Space and Time. And You Have to Buy Groceries” for The Atlantic. The Nanohertz Observatory for Gravitational Waves thinks we’ve located a cosmic background of ripples in time-space, which means waves from the birth of the universe are echoing back to us. Time is, in fact, not linear and we are, in-fact, on the same wavelength as our ancestors. As Frank writes, “All of a sudden, we know that we are humming in tune with the entire universe, that each of us contains the signature of everything that has ever been.” In other words: everything, everywhere, all at once. I don’t want to say I told you so but also…I told you so. Can’t wait to pick up Leonard Shlain’s masterful Art & Physics: Parallel Visions in Space, Time and Light back up when I’m done with my CHS homework to explore the origins of all this further.

One final mention for “Pasolini on Caravaggio’s Artificial Light” that was just published in The Paris Review. Pier Paolo Pasolini is one of my favorite poets. An Italian intellectual who did all the things as a novelist, journalist, filmmaker, playwright, actor, visual artist and who died way too early. Chasing, understanding, capturing, and harnessing light is a multi-genre pursuit, inherent in all great works of art, science, and math (see Shlain above). But, simply put, we need light to see. To me, Pasolini is one of the best at describing what he sees and both artists are incredible at showing us things we normally miss in the shadows.

Learning. As they say, I was today years old when I learned that Love Letters, a WRDSMTH print I fell in love with purchased a few years back, is drawn from an iconic photograph called Le Baiser de l’Hotel de Ville or The Kiss by the Hotel de Ville Robert Doisneau. I have always loved this photo but had never taken the time to understand it. Now I understand both works better.

Thanks to comped NightLife tickets, we got a very entertaining and informative history of the California Academy of Sciences from VERA! during Drag Story Hour. I’m a sucker for existential philosophy jokes and they served and a Hegel and a Kant quip. *heart explodes* But the main event was a panel discussion that made space for badass women in STEM: Dr. Amy Fiedler, a cardiac surgeon and member of the first all-woman heart transplant team; astrophysicist Dr. Nia Imara; Dr. Alex Hanna, director of research for the Distributed AI Research Institute; and my newest professional friend, Cal Academy’s Head Librarian Rebekah Kim were all part of this amazing lineup of inspiring women. Personally, I could have done without the comedian who moderated this panel and made a wild decision to open a discussion on patriarchy with a dick joke, but maybe that’s just me. Also, I’d like to point out that all four panelists spent much of their time talking about the importance of history in their work. So, maybe it’s time we stopped funneling funding in STEM separate from art and history? Just saying…it’s frustrating to be at events where people primarily discuss history but nobody talks about history.

Listening. Albums I’ve returned to on repeat during my walks to work this week are as follows in no particular order: Sonora by Joel P. West; I Love You, Honeybear by Father John Misty; Sun by Cat Power; Young Man in America by Anais Mitchell; Pacific by Roo Panes; New Mythology by Nick Mulvey; and (the real curveball in this mix) Life After Death by The Notorious B.I.G.

Must-See: Rose Droll @ Amnesia TONIGHT

When you review music as part of your daily bread, you hear a lot of music. You can usually tell within the first 20 seconds whether or not you want to keep listening, and by the second song you get to know an artist.

Within one minute of listening to Rose Droll I thought, “This girl needs a recording contract.” I want to see what she can do with unlimited resources and support. Droll has an innate ability to write songs that aren’t overthought but are thoughtful. They are truthful, they are beautiful, they levitate with depth but are soft enough to experience on multiple levels–with investment, committing to the complexity of every note and lyric, or within distraction, as a soundtrack to your transitional life. This is music at its best–fresh and raw, with a unique viewpoint.

Droll has unleashed mucho music this year from a massive reservoir of unreleased tracks, and you should support both her and the amazing venue she’s gracing this evening, Amnesia. Then you can say you knew her when she played an intimate Mission District lynch pin after she’s climbed the ladder out of relative obscurity.

So sad to be missing her tonight. Don’t be like me; drop what you’re doing and go! Missed her? No problem. We can see her together at Cafe du Nord on October 15th. PHEW.

The Doors at 50: On the Source of Morrison’s Swagger

50 years ago, The Doors were touring in support of the eponymous album that cemented their position amongst rock royalty. The band’s charismatic frontman, Jim Morrison, was undeniably talented and salaciously unpredictable with sex appeal that translated well beyond his early demise. I was so enthralled with him as a pubescent teen that I hung a gigantic charcoal portrait of the lizard king above my bed. He seemed so serpentine and cool, an erratic artist singularly dedicated to the chaos of craft. Oh, how that attraction foreshadowed so many of my adult choices.

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Jim Morrison by Joel Brodsky from the 1967 series that would give The Doors its iconic album art.

As we, residents of the future, well know that chaos drove him to an early grave yet Jim Morrison is still one of the most recognizable musicians in the world. The Doors made great music that epitomized their era–an era that people love to remember–and Morrison made for quite the photogenic sixties poster child. But the truth is that History remembers zealots best, not necessarily the best in any chose field, because zealots have a higher tendency to burn brightest just before they burn out and everyone remembers an explosion.

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The cool thing about being a student and chronicler of History is getting to re-examine things you’ve always loved under a new lens. Over the last six months, I’ve been curating and creating digital content for the California History Society’s commemoration of the 50th Anniversary of the Summer of Love. CHS just rolled out a special website last month in partnership with San Francisco Travel, and this is by far and away the most relevant, trippy, mind-blowing historical commemorative in which I’ve ever had the pleasure to participate. One series of articles I’ve been working on is titled “Who Saw the Summer of Love,” and it seeks to dispel the misunderstanding that San Francisco was inundated by a cohesive hoard of hippies; in fact, there were many different groups with their own, sometimes competing and often paralleling, agendas. There were political activists, psychedelic artists, rock and rollers, Hells Angels outlaws, environmentalists, communally conscious merchants and anarchists, and more.

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Jim Morrison, followed by girlfriend Pam, follows Michael McClure around 1969.

In researching a forthcoming article on the Beat poets that formed a bridge between 1950s bohemianism and 1960s counterculture, I learned something about Jim Morrison that I never saw coming. Jim Morrison learned how to be cool from celebrated Beat poet Michael McClure. McClure was probably a large reason why The Doors attended the Human Be-In in Golden Gate Park on January 14, 1967–the event that set the tone for 1967, and directly led to the Summer of Love. He also encouraged Morrison’s poetry, and even got it published. And if the picture above doesn’t prove to you that Morrison absorbed McClure’s cool, then the photograph below should do it. This shows McClure standing next to Bob Dylan, with Beat messiah Allen Ginsberg to Dylan’s left, outside City Lights Bookstore in San Francisco’s North Beach. Bob Dylan rightfully worshipped the Beats as the elder statesmen of cool, and he emulated their phonetic cadences in song and their style of dress. He’s also the one who staged this photo shoot, hoping to use it as an album cover. While Ginsberg followed Dylan around like a puppy–a puppy hoping to get laid–McClure kept his cool and that dynamic can totally be read in this legendary snapshot.

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Photo by Larry Keenan. McClure, Dylan and Ginsberg outside City Lights Bookstore, 1966.

In November of last year I had the honor of hearing McClure read from a new volume of his poetry, Mephistos and Other Poems, at City Lights Books. He’s in his 80s now and age is most definitely taking its toll. He walked with a cane and the help of his people, and I’m not so sure it registered when I told him he is one of the greatest influences on my life–that he is the reason this San Francisco historian traveled north to become a San Franciscan. However, he was 100% McClure when reading his own poems: cool, calm, effortlessly suave and sensual as only a poet can be. Gives a girl hope for the future of her mind. And as I looked around the audience that night, I caught the eye of a handsome young fellow wearing a shearling-lined denim jacket and an old fisherman’s cap who stood above a sea of graying spectacles.

Gives a girl hope for the future of her generation.

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Michael McClure reading from Mephistos and Other Poems, November 2016.

 

 

 

 

 

Summer of Love Playlist

For those who don’t know, I’ve been working with the California Historical Society (CHS) for the past six months or so creating and curating digital content for a Summer of Love 50th anniversary that is now upon us. CHS is working with SF Travel to coordinate a statewide commemoration with international reach, and partner organizations such as my beloved Western Neighborhoods Project will have programming and exhibitions throughout the year that showcase San Francisco and California in 1967.

To whet your palate, I’ve curated a playlist of songs and speeches from 1967. All from 1967.

Turn on, tune in, and drop out of 2017…my little time travelers. Nostos Nic Loves You.