Public Works or Public Art?

Seen last week on a sidewalk near Civic Center in San Francisco:


It's strangely captivating, the short pieces of blue tape on the boarder of the plywood playing against the long strips of red tape around the chairs. The union of these two discreet chairs mirroring the union of the two pieces of wood below. Indeed one of the most intriguing things about this plywood/chair/tape piece is that it effectively distracts passer-bys from the expensive and ornate display in the store window behind. Is this a comment on the power of context in our consumer society? The assemblage of junk on the sidewalk, a strange and unusual occurrence that is free to appreciate, upstages the traditional consumer display of expensive nick-knacks.

The only clue as to the true intentions of this "piece" is the tag on one of the folding chairs:

Pardon the blurriness, it was a low-light situation. The sticker says, "Keep Upright. Do not topple." The rest is illegible from the picture, I don't recall the sticker mentioning either the origin or the purpose of this piece of public works and/or art installation.

A rumor I heard...

So I heard this rumor, that BMW or some dealership thereof, normally has a bunch of cars in the SF Pride Parade but this year they will not. I heard from a BMW employee that this year the event's organizers had the gall to demand $10,000 (or some five number figure) for their cars' registration in the parade. Well, I was told by the BMW employee, that's absurd so there will be no BMW gay pride cars in the pride parade this year!

This BMW employee is a very nice guy, he's not a company stooge, he's totally genuine. But honestly I say Good, make BMW pay through their fucking nose to be in the parade! It would be insane not to.

Here's why.
BMW is rolling in dough, they make ROLLS ROYCES. If a company like that wants to pledge their support for gay causes by way of some primo target marketing I see no reason why they shouldn't pay for the privilege. Someone's got to pay for all the leather daddy, AIDS Awareness, and Unitarian church groups who can't afford to contribute high registration fees. Hell times are tough all over. I'd understand if this was Ford, but BMW?!? The fact that this is a deal breaker for BMW borders on the offensive! An implicit component of their refusal is the gay's aren't worth their money. Hell if I had a major company I'd pay $20,000 to have my product featured at the event that is bound to be the highest concentration of single white men with discriminating tastes in the Unite States at any one time.

Also I'm glad, hell I'm elated that there will be no BMW car section of the parade, I'll be even more pleased if there's no BMW section at all with employees marching on foot. Money and pride are a toxic combination (ever been on a date with a Harvard graduate?) BMW is not pride, Starbucks is not pride, Target is not Pride. Pride is about total self acceptance and comfort to the point of fearless self-expression. It's about a throng of social outcasts coming together to claim one day in 364 as their own. Ours. Money, of course is neccessary to fund Pride, fabulousness alone cannot rent a major sound system, event organizer, or temporary stage. But the ethos of the day should be unfettered from blatant capitalism. The focus should be more copulation and less corporation, because while Pride is about love with sex coming in a close second.

Crawling Back

I've had the blogging itch lately, which is not a good sign.
I get the blogging itch whenever I become hopelessly bored with my real life. Some people supplement their existential boredom over cyber-space by posting anonymous encounter ads on Craig's List. By contrast my cyber supplement entails reveling in the unearned smug satisfaction of putting my half assed opinions onto a global medium.

I should say that currently I am working (and working and working and working some more) at a medical cannabis dispensary which is NEVER boring. But the routine of work has become old hat and my free time to explore has shriveled. So expect more frequent updates on Wander Blog.

A List of Things I Saw Yesterday at the Folsom Street Fair (NSFW)

Last week it seemed everyone in the bars and clubs I went to was talking up Folsom Street Fair as if it were Sodom and Gomorrah itself.

"It's the biggest event in San Fran," one stranger assured me, "bigger than Halloween, bigger than Pride!"

I was told to expect Mardis Gras with less drink and more kink. Over and over again I heard, "You can't imagine the stuff that goes on there!" "The most outrageous thing you'll ever see" "You'll be totally shocked." I kind of shrugged these comments off, but upon entering the fair yesterday I was chastened.

Apparently you're never so worldly you can't find displays of perversity to flip your wig. Below are a list of things I saw yesterday as I walked around Folsom Street Fair with some pictures (be forewarned NOT SAFE FOR WORK):

• A furry Piglet riding a furry Winnie the Pooh

• One leather Daddy whipping three guys at once

• A completely naked hermaphrodite, bound in rope, being flogged*

• A game of Twister played by jock-strap wearing twinks to raise money for "Healthcare for Whores."

• A late thirty-something woman who looked like she just stepped out of the suburbs in her white Keds, modest denim jeans and baby blue tank top, giggling unstoppably as she posed with an incredibly ripped guy wearing only a cock ring around one of the largest flaccid penises I've ever seen.

• The San Francisco Department of Public Health booth that featured a game in which contestants tried to hurl mini-foam penises through a cartoon's asshole (this would not have flown at the Boston Public Health Commission).

• A masked man with a super hot body and a massive schlong masturbating out of a third story window as the crowd below cheered him on until he came, showering ejaculate onto the crowd below (luckily I was out of splatter range).

• "Fetish Tot" dolls (pics here, NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART)

• Guys in dog bondage gear with leather "paws" over their hands and feet and butt-plug tail accessories (that I swore I saw wag).

• A booth that was dedicated to helping circumcised men "restore" their foreskin through a process of weights, stretchers, and straps. Also on display at the same table, an artifical foreskin that promises "Natural dekeratinization of the glans (thinning of the existing calloused skin)" and " A feeling of warmth, security and self-esteem" (Sounds like Prozac to me).

• A guy on a leash laying on his back on the sidewalk as his master offered to let passers-by spit in his mouth.

• What appeared to be three sorrority girls being whipped within an inch of their Prada by some random dude with a riding crop.

• A plump woman with pig-tails wearing a pink sun-dress and pink vinyl boots sitting on the sidewalk licking a phallic lolly...

and then...looking to either side...
grinning mischeviously...spreading her legs...
and then...



Ah, San Francisco is there anything you WON'T do?

*This is the second naked hermaphrodite I have seen this summer.

The Wander/Wonder Blog is back!

My dead computer is RESURRECTED!























IT'S ALIVE!!!!!

So funny story...
Oh about three months ago, shortly after announcing I would be blogging my West Coast sojourn, my computer died. I was in Seattle at the time and went to the only Mac store I could find in Microsoftland which was a small mom and pop place that was in no way was affiliated with Apple as either a corporate entity or a purveyor of store franchises. This place had no white walls, no glass staircases, just a dingy carpet and suspended ceiling. The pubescent boy attending the tech support counter informed me that the reason my computer wouldn't turn on was that the mother board had crashed, a replacement would cost around $600 and take two weeks to install with their current backlog of repairs.

I was also told that on the positive end of things everything on the hard drive should be fine. In short I had the Jean-Dominique Bauby of computers, my Mac had locked-in syndrome. After phoning another computer repair shop in Seattle and receiving the same diagnosis I decided to deal with my computer at the end of the summer when my traveling was done. I schlepped my comatose computer from Seattle to Portland, from Portland to San Francisco where it stayed with sympathetic relatives while I went up north to Eureka California, and then south to LA , and then to Burning Man.

Finally yesterday I bit the bullet and brought my non-responsive Mac to a computer repair shop in Berkeley. "Here take it , fix it!" I cried, dramatically shoving the laptop case across the counter to the clerk. "I'm told it needs a new mother board. I know it'll be expensive, hundreds of dollars to be sure, it may take weeks to repair, but I NEED my computer! I can't keep working off my Palm Pre and begging friends and acquaintances to use their computers like some sort of LEPER!!!!!"

The clerk who was young but old enough to have facial hair took in my histrionics calmly before asking, "so what exactly is wrong with your computer?"

"It won't turn on!" I cried.

"Have you tried using a different power cord?" He asked.

Did this guy think I was an idiot? "It can't be the power cord, when I plug the power cord into the computer the light at the end of the wire goes on."

"Let's just see what happens if we use another cord." The clerk said undeterred and made his way to a bin sitting on a shelf across the room. He dug through it until he had found the right cord, returned and plugged it into the computer. He hit the power button and the computer emitted that Zen-like "Ommm" start-up noise that Macs make, the screen flickered on, and I stood there in utter silence.

"The power cord'll be $50." The clerk said.

"But- but- they said in Seattle that I needed a new mother board!"

"Apparently not" replied the clerk.

"But I don't understand, the light at the end of the cord went on when I plugged it in."

"Yeah but if you look at the end of the cord you can see the metal casing around the prong is cracked, see right there."

"You mean I've been without a computer this ENTIRE summer because I just needed a new cord????"

"Guess so, but hey it's cheaper than getting a new motherboard! And you'd be surprised at the number of people who have this same problem and just throw out their computers!"

The moral of this story, never ask for Mac tech support in Seattle.

I keep trying to tell myself this whole thing has been a blessing in disguise. That I've been more present this summer in my travels because I haven't had my computer to distract me. Or that being without my own computer for three months has made me appreciate having one even more now. I suppose all this is true, but still...just a freakin power cord?!

Stay tuned for more posts now that Wonder/Wanderblog central is operational again.

Various Seattle Arts stuff

Ok, so here's a giant flurry of cool art stuff I saw in Seattle.

I all ready wrote briefly about the installation Moore Inside Out which was phenomenal(flickr stream of the event here). Tuesday night I also saw a great show at the Moore: Goran Bregovic and His Wedding and Funeral Orchestra.

Bregovic is an outstanding performer and composer from Serbia who has scored such brilliant Kusterica films as In the Time of the Gypsies and Black Cat White Cat. The concert audience was mostly Serbs so a good time was assured (Serbs know how to party, trust me I lived with one).

The concert started out slow with Bregovic's orchestra coming out piecemeal. First doleful strains from a string quartet and two female vocalists (in traditional gear) entering stage right. They were answered by the five piece brass section's burbling refrain as they made their way to the stage from the rear of the auditorium. Soon a six member male chorus joined the fray followed by the drummer/lead male vocalist, and lastly after the first song, by Goran himself. The slow stuff quickly gave way to riotous Gypsy rhythms and gloriously huge sounds. There's a reason Bregovic scored Kusterica's maximalist masterpieces, be they of the epic narrative scope variety or the gross-out comedy brand, like Kusterica Bregovic works on a large scale.

I've heard some complaints about Bregovic's performance; this review of the show and even one of the managers of the Seattle gig whom I talked to felt Bregovic doesn't actually DO anything during his shows. There's SOME validity to this: Bregovic doesn't sing during most songs, he plays guitar for only a handful (more often he's playing with his Macbook) and he is seated the whole time. But these criticisms miss a very important point: Bregovic is always conducting his orchestra through his music (or at the least his orchestrations of traditionally Serbian music). The sound is big but it's also incredibly precise, the resulting effect wouldn't be nearly as powerful if Goran's hands weren't guiding the orchestra along. And it IS incredibly powerful music, halfway through the concert the entire audience was standing up and dancing in the aisles, clapping wildly and totally in sway with band. Even Iggy Pop didn't get a reaction like that when I saw him.

The day before I checked out the film Godless Girl which was part of a Trader Joe's sponsored screening of silent films with live organ accompaniment. The event was at the Paramount, which like the Moore, is a glorious old theater. There were a couple protesters outside claiming the regular organist had been unfairly fired. One of the picketers told me that she had heard one of the programmers wanted to hire a rock musician instead ("A ROCK MUSICIAN!!"). Then again, I'm getting the feeling that an event isn't really worth its salt on the West Coast if there's not a protest involved. The replacement (possible scab) organist was serviceable, at the end of the screening he announced he had just received a DVD copy of the film that morning so he had barely any time to prepare. But silent films weren't made to succeed or fail based on the extempore music playing over them, they were made to be purely visual in their storytelling and this film didn't disappoint.

Godless Girl, one of the last silent films directed by the great Cecil B Demille, tells the lurid tale of a high school atheist temptress and an overzealous religious classmate who fall in love at a Dickensian juvie detention center after a rumble they incite leads to the (spectacularly filmed) death of an innocent girl. It's wonderfully over the top --members of the Atheist Club have to renounce God with one hand on top of a Capuchin monkey-- with Demille's usual ingenuity for spectacle. During the aforementioned mele the camera tracks vertically over four flights of stairs filled with kids fighting tooth and nail, and the end of the film features fire scenes that give Gone With The Wind a run for its money.

Did I mention how gorgeous the theater was?

Outside





















Lobby






















Lower lobby (the foyer to the restrooms)






















Recessed lighting in the theater






















Screen (with sponsorship) and Wurlitzer

I also checked out the Seattle Art Museum which I loved.
When you walk in to buy tickets you're greeted overhead by Cai Guo-Qaing's Inopportune: Stage One which is made up of nine identical white cars suspended from the ceiling with blinking lighting fixtures protruding from the vehicles. The overall effect suggests an explosion emanating from each car, a beautiful and elegant celebration of the combustion that both fuels these modern beasts and threatens our planet.

SAM had some great stuff in their permanent collection, this Warhol for example:

Don't mess with HIS blue suede shoes!

Two other pieces I loved were Mann Und Maus by Katharina Fritsch, in which a sleeping man covered in a white comforter on a white bed up to his serene face has a MASSIVE black mouse resting on his chest.

The impact of the piece lies in its sheer size. The man's head is life-size so imagine how massive the mouse is by comparison. The sculpture conjures up so many images: the incubus or succubus of Medieval lore crouching on the stomach of it's victim, disease (black plague or HIV), self-destructive nature. No matter how antiseptic, no matter how clean we want to make our lives, there's always some great creepy thing looming over us we can't escape. How many times have we seen mice in our apartments and immediately thought they could climb into our bed while we slumber away defenseless?

Another stunner was this piece Some/One by Do-Ho Suh

It appears to be a beautiful large metalic gown, until you get closer and see what it's made of:

I literally gasped when I saw the dogtags.

The piece is perhaps one of the best metaphors I've seen for our current American Empire, part luxury item, part armor, all sacrifice.

The big exhibit now at SAM is "Target Practice: Painting Under Fire 1949-78" a huge exhibit of pieces by artists who took aim at established conventions of paintings. Everything from Yoko Ono's A Painting To Be Stepped On i.e. a piece of cloth on the ground, to Jasper John's Target and beyond. The exhibit is highly engaging in a cerebral way and the free audio tour voiced by Laurie Anderson is informative and breezy. Though I have to say I went in for another much smaller exhibit, the Andrew Wyeth remembrance which is really a celebration of paint as a traditional medium.

Also I was totally impressed by the African Art collection at SAM which contains excellent examples of traditional cloth, masks, and statues as well as contemporary African Art. My only complaint is that their extensive collection of Dahomian religious statues and offerings were housed in a series of anti-septic glass cubes rather than all together in some semblance of a traditional shrine.

Anywho arts in Seattle, lots to love.

Day 5 in Seattle

How good is the food in this city? Soooo good it hurts.

I could be at the Nitelite Lounge--a pleasant quintessential dive bar adjascent to my hotel, manned by sweet but sad-eyed bar maids, sprinkled liberally with displays of the Budweiser Clydesdales, and attended by a small dedicated clientele of regular lushes--and

 enjoy a shockingly good tamale: rich with savory cornmeal and chicken in the center with a tangy kick. 

I also had one of their happy hour burgers with fries

 ($4) and was stunned by how good it was. A super thin patty to be sure, but flavorful as hell (read nice and greasy), dressed up with thinly sliced fresh baby tomato slices,

 delicious pickles, and some amazing swiss cheese. The fries weren't bad either.

There's also Falafel King right next to Pike's Place Market which is the best Middle Eastern food I've had outside Istanbul (sorry Moody's Falafel Palace) I had their Chicken Shwarma plate: grilled chicken, cabbage, rice pilaf, and a garlic tahini sauce, with a side salad in a perfectly mixed vinagrette, with a side of houmus and pita ($8.50). I could go on describing how good it was but a picture is worth a thousand words:

Also nearby to Falafel King is Pan African Market which has some amazing freaking Ethiopian food. I had their meat as well as veggie sampler on Indira bread. Both were outstanding. 

In an earlier post I mentioned that Seattlites were pretty serious but their street food. How not unserious about it are they? Just check out their pulled-pork sandwich truck: 

As in everything it's all 

about the details: behold the tail-light.

Also highly enjoyed Cyclops in Belltown where I had a smashing Sunday brunch (a bar you can sit down at and read the paper while you eat is a beautiful thing no matter where you are) at 1pm. To my shock many Seattle restaurants apparently stopping serving Brunch before the PM, at least near my hotel, at least according to the knowledgeable lady at the front desk. Cyclops is roomy and funky with good music and decor that focuses on both eyes (unsurprisingly) and panthers. They even have two large glass displays of cheap panther pottery on one of the walls. I had a good caramelized onion and sundried tomato chicken sausage omelet with home-fries and toast (extra points for having the butter grilled in). Their bloody mary's aren't astounding but the three olives that garnish the drink are. I went back Tuesday night to grab a light supper (chicken quesadillas excellent and $4) and ended up having a lengthy discussion with a coast guard sitting next to me who was wearing a Wonder Woman T-shirt. I was reading "Into the Wild" at the bar and the Coast Guard, who was reading "Portnoy's Complaint," was having none of it, "the kid was an idiot, look I tramped around for a while before settling down, I've camped up there in Alaska, I've camped all over, and you have to be an idiot to do what he did. Maybe he could have survived an experience like that if he stayed in the southern US where it's warm. But to go up there with only a .22 and no tent, not even a decent pair of boots, that's just stupid." 

When I countered that the kid (Chris McCandless) must have had some intelligence to a) survive as long as he did on the road and b) make such a strong impression on the people he met I was shot down quickly. "The kid had short term charisma, he never stayed around long enough in one place for people to get to know him well enough. My brother is like that, he can get anyone to like him for a short period of time." 

The pattern continued.

Me:  But he survived over 100 days out in the Alaskan wild! 

Wonder Woman Coast Guard Guy: Because he found a bus that had been outfitted for hunters with a stove and fuel!

Me: But he shot a moose! A MOOSE!

Wonder Woman Coast Guard Guy: And then let the meat go to waste because he talked to people in South Dakota about how to prepare Alaskan game! They told him to smoke it, he built a smoker after shooting the moose and the smoker didn't work. I mean if you're going to try and preserve meat by smoking it build a smoker first, test it out, so if you do find big game you don't waste time if after you shoot it.

Bottom line:  It's hard to make a persuasive argument for the kind of passion that would compel someone to forsake all that's familiar and common for a recklessly traveled life on the road and in the wilderness when the person you're talking to has a  job that requires them to fish these people out of the life-threatening situations this same passion has landed them in. 

The Wonder Wander Blog!

Due to several requests the focus of this blog will be shifting from current events, politics, and rants to my current nomadic existence. In April I decided I was miserable with the current state of my life in Boston and so I quit my job (program coordinator for the Boston needle exchange) and bought a ticket to Seattle. This summer I'm checking out Seattle, Portland, San Francisco, Humboldt County (where I'm doing a month long theater program) points in between, and eventually Burning Man.

Currently I am in my fourth day in Seattle which I must say I like a lot. I could totally see myself living here. People in this city care about food to the point where even the street vendors are gourmet, there are lines around the block for art installations, and crowds that rival Boston pride converge on a neighborhood for the "Solstice Parade" which features naked bicylcists covered in body paint and a float honoring the Flying Spaghetti Monster.

Also lots of independent book stores, great coffee, serious drinkers, and decent music playing in almost every establishment I've gone into.

Below are some pics:

The Solstice Parade in Fremont which I'm told is a [rapidly gentrifying] hippie neighborhood (come on they have a SOLSTICE PARADE). How hippie is this neighborhood? there's a de-commisioned cold-era missile now decorated with Xmas lights literally a block away from a massive bronze statue of Vladimir Lenin.

Ok Ok Ok here are the naked people on bikes. Being short (5'6) I couldn't really see them over the crowd during the parade, plus I got there late when most had peddled off. I managed to get this shot before the naked part of the parade ended.

Luckily many nude cyclists opted to do a victory lap

post-procession where I got an unobstructed view.

It's all about the matching shoes...

Yes, that brave soul with the polka dots holding onto his junk for dear life is riding a unicycle!
Also worthy of note the brand of portable toilets are called "Honey Buckets" which is just about the most revolting euphemism for a port-a-john I can imagine.

I also checked out "The Moore Inside Out" which was a massive 50-artist installation that took over the entirety of the Moore Theater for one night. The Moore, which is attached to my hotel, is just over 100 years old and GORGEOUS.

(Pics of the theater exterior and interior not mine)

A massive stage, mezz, and balcony, marble lobby, and an amazing line-up of musical acts. The installation was free and was ABSOLUTELY PACKED WITH PEOPLE. There were some amazing performances and visual projects but my favorite was this simple one: a makeshift structure in the lobby that mimicked the facade elements of the theater held together by red string. When you walked through an archway at the bottom and looked up you saw a beautiful chandelier that the facade had been hiding. Such a subversive piece for an event that was supposed to celebrate the theater as an enduring building.

The building erected to the arts is made clumsy by

and obstructive to the art itself inside.