Museum Monday 2024/49

 

detail of Still Life with Lemons & Plate by Tamara de Lempicka, currently on view at the de Young Museum as part of the special exhibit Tamara de Lempicka

Friday Photo 2024/48

 

street & sky, San Leandro, California

Poem of the Week 2024/48

The Dimensions of the Milky Way

    (Discovered by Harlow Shapley, 1918)

Behind the men's dorm

at dusk on a late May evening,

Carver lowers the paper

and watches the light change.

He tries to see Earth

across a distance

of twenty-five thousand light-years,

from the center of the Milky Way:

a grain of pollen, a spore

of galactic dust.

He looks around:

that shagbark, those swallows,

the fireflies, that blasted mosquito;

this beautiful world.

A hundred billion stars

in a roughly spherical flattened disc

with a radius of one hundred light-years.

Imagine that.

He catches a falling star.

Well, Lord, this

infinitesimal speck

could fill the universe with praise.

– Marilyn Nelson

This is from a sequence of poems on the life of George Washington Carver, who was born enslaved and became a prominent scientist & educator in post-Reconstruction America.

This poem hovers between the factual, sometimes all too real world around us & one made up of the fancy & imagination inside us: a liminal space natural for a man sitting in the dusk after a long day of work. The opening lines give us time & place, & with the first mention of Carver, & his first action – lowering the newspaper he has been reading – moves us away from the workaday world, the world of work & journalism & the specific time & place one occupies, into a world more open to speculation: he watches the light change.

Light is a longtime symbol of wisdom (as in the term enlightenment) & even of God (who will make a reappearance at the end of the poem; we can infer that Carver was a religious man). It is also, of course, actual light, a phenomenon of interest to & subject to analysis by a curious scientific mind like Carver's. He knows the measurement of the Milky Way, but it's an imaginative leap on his part to take himself out of his evening seat, & even out of this planet, into a celestial vantage point: what is our home, the Earth, seen from afar? A speck, but significantly the tiny items it's compared to – a grain of pollen, a spore – are both, though tiny, generative, capable of reproducing or helping to reproduce much larger organisms. Even the presentation of the pollen, as a grain, adds to the sense that these miniscule, almost unseeable cells can be fructifying.

We are brought back to Earth by another action of Carver's: he looks around, but in his mind now is the immensity of the galaxy & the smallness of Earth. But what he sees may be small but does not come across as insignificant: shagbark (a type of large hickory tree), swallows, fireflies, a mosquito. And these are very individual things that he sees: that shagbark, those swallows, a mosquito: not generic "trees" or "birds" but specific examples of specific varieties. And from the human perspective, not all are desirable: trees, birds, & fireflies are lovely, but that blasted mosquito! The bloodsuckers are also part of this world, this beautiful world, as Carver thinks in an emotionally open & resounding way. (The political situation of Carver's time, one inimical to a Black man like himself, does not enter directly into this poem, but the reader would be conscious of it, & it provides the context for Carver's meditations on our place in the Universe & the beauties of our world despite all that humanity has done to make things ugly & dangerous.)

The poem then moves again towards the factual & scientific, yet it transitions with a "poetic" image: a hundred billion stars. This immensity both conjures up a striking picture & is a straightforward description of the Milky Way. Carver fits these sparklers into their appropriate geometric container, & considers the container's radius. Then we move into Carver's free-flowing inner thoughts, indicated in italic type. He begins with the phrase Imagine that. This is both a conventional thing to say, equivalent to "just think of it!" or "who would have guessed!" but it's also an injunction: imagine that, conjure up in your mind both the grand & particular realities of the universe &, at the same time, both the smallness & the immense beauty of the physical world we inhabit. Only a sense of sustained wonder can balance such disparate elements.

These final thoughts are interrupted by a final action on Carver's part: he catches a falling star. To catch can mean to observe something, often something that might easily be missed ("Did you catch that?", said of both words & actions) but it also gives us the suggestion that Carver has caught a falling star: a literal impossibility, of course, but a metaphorical reality. The phrase brings to mind Donne's famous song, opening Go, and catch a falling star, in which the catching is the first of a list of vivid & impossible tasks. A falling star is often considered a fortunate thing to see (hence the superstition that you should make a wish when you see one); it's certainly a lovely & encouraging image, thinking of a tired scientist & teacher, struggling to carry on despite the social system surrounding him, & despite human frailty & evil in general, managing to catch this marvelous Universal thing. The possibilities of our tiny Earth, already compared to a speck, but a generative one, fill Carver's mind as he thinks of it filling the Universe with praise, praise here directed to a creating Deity, but also capable of echoing, through the imagination, through the vast Milky Way. We know both the physical measure of the Milky Way, & its spiritual immeasurability.

I thought this would be a good poem for Thanksgiving week. I took it from Faster than Light: New and Selected Poems, 1996 - 2011, by Marilyn Nelson.

Museum Monday 2024/48

 

detail of a quilt in the Joseph's Coat pattern, made by the Freedom Quilting Bee of Alberta, Alabama (piecers: Lucy Mingo & Nell Hall Williams; quilters: Ella Mae Irby, Doll James, & Sam Square), currently on view at BAM/PFA as part of Making Their Mark: Works from the Shah Garg Collection

Friday Photo 2024/47

 

San Francisco City Hall

Another Opening, Another Show: December 2024

We come to the end of another calendar year, & what can I even say? The recent election hangs like a poisonous miasma over our broken world, promising only further breaking. There have been some unexpected personal results: I find myself unable to read Whitman these days; his essentially optimistic & glowing view of human & specifically American possibilities just seems too bitterly ironic right now. Perhaps it's time to pick up Beckett or Primo Levi.

Here's an unclassifiable event that may be the best way to exorcise this year: the 39th Annual Japanese New Year Bell-Ringing Ceremony on 29 December at the Asian Art Museum: "Ring in the New Year by taking a swing at a 2,100-pound, 16th-century Japanese temple bell. Led by Reverend Gengo Akiba, this inspiring ceremony will include a purification ritual and chanting of the Buddhist Heart Sutra. Visitors will have an opportunity to ring the bell to leave behind any unfortunate experiences, regrettable deeds, or ill luck from the year. The bell will be struck 108 times to usher in the New Year and curb the 108 mortal desires (bonno) that, according to Buddhist belief, torment humankind."

You do have to make reservations to ring the bell, but even if you just go & sit in the room for a while, as I did last year it's a stirring experience. We should cherish whatever hope we can find, wherever we can find it, these days.

Merry Happy Whatever You Celebrate to You. . . .

Theatrical

A Whynot Christmas Carol by Craig Lucas, directed by Pam MacKinnon, about a small-town theater troupe trying to stage a new version of A Christmas Carol, continues at ACT through 24 December.

BroadwaySF brings back Lin-Manuel Miranda's Hamilton from 27 November to 5 January 2025. It would be interesting to see how this show, a modern classic, lands in a world very different from the one it premiered in nearly 10 years ago.

The Presidio Theater continues its annual holiday Panto in the Presidio series with a new version of Peter Pan, running 3 - 29 December.

Theater of Yugen presents A Noh Christmas Carol, directed by Nick Ishimaru, from 4 - 29 December; I saw earlier iterations of this show, & it's wonderful – Dickens' ghost story translates with great ease into the traditional Japanese form.

The New Conservatory Theater Center presents Deep Inside Tonight, by & starring The Kinsey Sicks ("America’s Favorite Dragapella® Beautyshop Quartet"), from 4 December to 5 January 2025.

BroadwaySF presents The Golden Girls Live: The Christmas Episodes at the Curran Theater from 5 to 22 December; directed by D’Arcy Drollinger, the show is a "drag send-up and heartfelt tribute" to the popular sitcom, featuring two parody Christmas episodes.

Oakland Theater Project will be presenting the world premiere of A Thousand Ships by Marcus Gardley, about the"friendship between two Black women and their families, from their wartime work in the Oakland shipyards to the fulfillment of a dream: their own hair salon", directed by Michael Socrates Moran, from 13 December to 5 January.

BroadwaySF presents Shrek The Musical at the Golden Gate Theater from 6 to 8 December.

The Jewelry Box: A Genuine Christmas Story, written & performed by Brian Copeland & directed by David Ford, about six-year-old Brian's attempts to earn enough money to buy his Mom a jewelry box as a Christmas gift, plays at The Marsh Berkeley on 8 December & The Marsh San Francisco on 21 December.

On 10 December, Theater Rhinoceros presents Truman Capote's A Christmas Memory.

On 10 December at the Golden Gate Theater, BroadwaySF presents A Drag Queen Christmas, hosted by Nina West, & these days supporting your local drag queen seems like a vital political act.

BroadwaySF presents Cirque Dreams Holidaze, a modern-circus Christmas extravaganza, on 13 - 15 December at the Golden Gate Theater.

The San Francisco Mime Troupe presents A Red Carol, "[w]ith music, joy, and plenty of harsh truths about his time and ours, A Red Carol is the demand for economic and social justice Dickens wanted then, and we need now" (in short, they are faithful to the message of Dickens' original), & that's at Z Space's Steindler Stage from 14 to 29 December.

BroadwaySF brings the musical Mean Girls back to the Golden Gate Theater on 19 - 22 December.

Eve. combining "dance, aerial, and a body of music written and composed by Andrea Densmore with her son, Tony Owen" that "shines a light on the cycle of domestic violence", plays at the ODC Theater on 20 - 22 December.

The African-American Shakespeare Company gives us its annual holiday production of Cinderella at Herbst Theater on 20 - 22 December.

Lorraine Hansberry Theater presents Soulful Christmas, with musical direction by Yvonne Cobbs & stage direction by Margo Hall, from 20 to 22 December at the Magic Theater at Fort Mason.

Talking

As part of its Unscripted series, on 4 December at the Golden Gate Theater BroadwaySF presents A Conversation with Cher, moderated by Joel Selvin, in which Cher will discuss her new book, Cher: The Memoir, Part One; attendees will receive "an unsigned copy of the book, included in the price of tickets", & apparently it will remain unsigned, as they note that "No Meet & Greet opportunities are available for this event". 

Choral

Sacred & Profane gives us Norden: A Scandinavian Holiday Celebration, featuring traditional songs & festive choral works from Scandinavia by Grieg, Sibelius, Otto Olsson, Einojuhani Rautavaara, Jón Leifs, Frida Johansson, & others; & that's 6 December at the Noe Valley Ministry in San Francisco & 7 December at Saint Mark's Episcopal in Berkeley.

Former director of Pacific Edge Voices Lynne Morrow returns to the ensemble for Return to the Heart: The Promise of Peace, a program including works by Bernstein, Barber, Brubeck, & Meredith Monk, as well as African-American spirituals & traditional Afro-Cuban music, & that's 6 December at Saint Mark's Lutheran in San Francisco & 8 December at First Congregational Church of Oakland 

On 7 December in Hertz Hall, Wei Cheng leads the UC Berkeley University Chorus in Britten's Saint Nicolas & Bernstein's Chichester Psalms.

The Young Women’s Chorus of San Francisco, led by Matthew Otto & joined by harpist Molly Langr, performs Carols by Candlelight, featuring  Britten’s A Ceremony of Carols as well as traditional carols set for chorus & harp, at Old First Concerts on 7 December.

The SF Bach Choir joins with the Velocity Handbell Quartet in A Candlelit Christmas: Under Moon & Stars, offering "both joyful and contemplative music from around the world, the traditional-with-a-twist Boar’s Head procession, our beloved candle-lit carols, and much more"; & that's 7 - 8 December at Calvary Presbyterian in San Francisco.

The Golden Gate Men's Chorus (Joseph Piazza, Music Director) presents Gloria!, its annual holiday concert, on 12 - 17 December at Saint Matthew's Lutheran in San Francisco (near Mission Dolores).

Ragazzi Boys Chorus, led by Kent Jue, performs Sing, Choirs of Angels!, a program featuring holiday pieces by Erick Lichte, Schütz, Bach/Gounod, Sy Gorieb, Tim Hosman & Tim Sarsany, Stanley Thurston, Mendelssohn, Howard Helvey, & Dan Forrest (some of the names may be unfamiliar, but their titles are beloved), at Old First Concerts on 15 December.

Chanticleer brings us A Chanticleer Christmas, featuring "joy and transcendence through beautifully sung music of all centuries, from classical to carols", & the Bay Area performances are 13 December at Saint Vincent de Paul in Petaluma, 15 December at the Cathedral of Christ the Light in Oakland, 16 December at the Cathedral of the Blessed Sacrament in Sacramento, 19 December at Mount Tamalpais United Methodist in Mill Valley, 20 December at Mission Santa Clara, 21 December at First Church in Berkeley, 22 December at Saint Ignatius in San Francisco, & 23 December at Carmel Mission.

Kitka Women's Vocal Ensemble brings us its latest version of Wintersongs, this year following "the arc of the supra, a traditional Georgian ritual feast in which all present are encouraged to contemplate the things in life that uplift and connect us", & you can hear it all on 7 December at Saint Stephen's in Belvedere, 8 December at Saint Bede's in Menlo Park, 14 December at the Davis Community Church in Davis, 15 December at Peace United Church in Santa Cruz, 20 - 21 December at Saint Paul's Episcopal in Oakland, & 22 December at Old First Concerts in San Francisco.

Robert Geary leads the San Francisco Choral Society in the Festival of Carols, featuring Kirke Mechem's Befana, on 21 December at Trinity + St. Peter's Episcopal in San Francisco & 22 December at the Unitarian Universalist Church of Berkeley.

On 21 December in Zellerbach Hall, Cal Performances presents the San Francisco Gay Men’s Chorus Holiday Spectacular! (their exclamation point).

The San Francisco Girls Chorus gives us A Celtic Winter, with guests Edwin Huizinga on violin & Ashley Hoyer on mandolin, on 23 December at Davies Hall in San Francisco.

Vocalists

The SF Jazz Center invites you to spend An Evening With Gregory Porter at the Paramount Theater on 8 December.

Broadway SF brings Leslie Odom Jr. & The Christmas Tour to the Golden Gate Theater on 29 November.

On 15 December in Hertz Hall, Cal Performances presents soperano Asmik Grigorian with pianist Lukas Geniušas performing songs by Tchaikovsky & Rachmaninoff.

Holiday Concerts

The San Francisco Symphony is devoting most of the month to its annual holiday programming: on 1 December, Mariachi Sol de México® de José Hernández gives us A Merry-Achi Christmas (the Symphony hosts this show but does not perform); on 2 December, Ming Luke leads the orchestra as Troupe Vertigo performs dazzling feats; on 3 - 4 December, Gail Deadrick leads The Colors of Christmas, featuring vocalists Peabo Bryson, Jackie Evancho, Jennifer Holliday, BeBe Winans, & the Bay Area Super Choir (Jeffrey Williams, Director); on 8 December, Daniel Bartholomew-Poyser leads the Symphony, joined by the Young Women’s Choral Projects of San Francisco (Matthew Otto, Director), the San Francisco Boys Chorus (Ian Robertson, Director), the Oakland Interfaith Gospel Choir (Terrance Kelly, Director), the San Francisco Ballet Training Program, the Kugelplex Klezmer Ensemble, & members of Troupe Vertigo in Deck the Halls, a family-oriented concert of holiday classics & sing-alongs; on 11 December, Edwin Outwater leads members of the Symphony in Holiday Brass; on 13 December, Outwater is back with Holiday Gaiety, featuring, as co-emcee, Peaches Christ, joined by performers Alex Newell, Latrice Royale, Lady Camden, Kylie Minono, Sister Roma, mezzo-soprano & aerialist Nikola Printz, & the SF Gay Men’s Chorus (Jacob Stensberg, Director & Conductor); on 15 December, Radu Paponiu leads the SF Symphony Youth Orchestra in Prokofiev's Peter and the Wolf, as well as other seasonal classics; & on 17 - 18 December, Outwater leads the Symphony, joined by Boyz II Men, in a concert of their hits & Christmas classics.

The Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra, joined by singer Ekep Nkwelle & singer/pianist Robbie Lee, bring their holiday program to the SF Jazz Center on 7 December.

The effervescent Pink Martini, featuring vocalist China Forbes, celebrates the holidays at the SF Jazz Center from 10 to 15 December.

At Old First Concerts on 13 December, Golden Bough (Margie Butler, Paul Espinoza, & Kathy Sierra) perform their annual celebration, Christmas in a Celtic Land.

On 15 December at the Paramount, Kedrick Armstrong leads the Oakland Symphony in their annual holiday concert, Let Us Break Bread Together, which this year is A Tribute to the Legends of Disco!; featured artists include vocalists Tiffany Austin, Maiya Sykes, & ChristoPHER Turner, the Oakland Symphony Chorus, the Oakland Interfaith Gospel Choir, The Best Intentions, the Napa High School Chamber Choir, as well as Kev Choice on keyboards, Dame Drummer on drums, Uriah Duffy on bass, & Kelyn Crapp on guitar.

On 11 December at Saint Joseph's Arts Society in San Francisco, One Found Sound presents its annual Holiday Pop Rox!, featuring "classical arrangements of your favorite holiday pop songs sung by oboist and charismatic singer Jesse Barrett, along with performances by nationally renowned, award winning drag queen Nicki Jizz. The show is a parody mash-up of "A Christmas Carol" and "Rocky Horror Picture Show", featuring a visual experience that interacts with the audience as part of the show, designed by visual director Max Savage" (that "interacts with the audience as part of the show": don't say I didn't warn you!)

Jung-Ho Pak leads the Bay Philharmonic in their Holiday Spectacular, featuring dancers, singers, & seasonal hijinks, on 14 - 15 December at Chabot College Center for the Performing Arts in Hayward.

Cyrus Chestnut plays A Charlie Brown Christmas at the SF Jazz Center on 20 December.

George Cole plays Nat King Cole's The Magic of Christmas at the SF Jazz Center on 20 - 22 December.

The Spanish Harlem Orchestra brings Salsa Navidad to the SF Jazz Center on 20 - 21 December.

The Marcus Shelby New Orchestra plays the Ellington/Strayhorn Nutcracker Suite,  featuring vocalist Tiffany Austin, at the SF Jazz Center on 22 December.

Orchestral

David Milnes leads the UC Berkeley Symphony Orchestra in Perú Negro by Jimmy López, the Daphnis and Chloe Suite #2 by Ravel, & music from Studio Ghibli films by Joe Hisaishi, & that's 12 - 14 December at Hertz Hall.

Jessica Bejarano leads the San Francisco Philharmonic in the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto (with soloist Wyatt Underhill) & the Tchaikovsky 6 at the Taube Atrium Theater on 14 December.

Jory Fankuchen leads the San Francisco Chamber Orchestra in Grażyna Bacewicz's Concerto for String Orchestra, the Saint-Saëns Introduction and Rondo Capriccioso in A minor, Opus 28 & his Havanaise in E major, Opus 83 (featuring Hiro Yoshimura on violin) & the Haydn 103, the Drumroll, & that's 30 December at the Taube Atrium Theater at the War Memorial Complex in San Francisco, 31December at First Congregational in Berkeley, & 1 January 2025 at First United Methodist in Palo Alto (these concerts are free but it is appreciated if you RSVP).

Chamber Music

On 1 December at the Gunn Theater at the Legion of Honor, a chamber group of San Francisco Symphony musicians will perform an all-Beethoven program: the Violin Sonata #1 in D major, Opus 12, #1, the Cello Sonata #1 in F major, Opus 5, #1, & the Piano Trio in E-flat major, Opus 70, #2.

The Chamber Music Society of San Francisco (Natasha Makhijani & Jory Fankuchen, violins; Clio Tilton, viola; Samsun van Loon, cello) perform Mozart's String Quartet in D Major, K575 & Beethoven's String Quartet in E-flat Major, opus 127 at Freight & Salvage in Berkeley on 2 December.

Noontime Concerts at Old Saint Mary's in San Francisco presents the Magritte Trio (Elektra Schmidt, piano; Sarah Elert, violin; Lewis Patzner, Cello) in Beethoven's Piano Trio in C Minor, Opus 1, #3 & his Piano Trio in D Major, Opus 70, #1, the "Ghost" on 3 December.

On 3 December at Herbst Theater, San Francisco Performances presents the Pacifica Quartet (Simin Ganatra & Austin Hartman, violins; Mark Holloway, viola; Brandon Vamos, cello), joined by clarinetist Anthony McGill, to perform Dvořák's String Quartet Opus 96, the “American”; Ben Shirley's High Sierra Sonata for Clarinet and Quartet; & the Brahms Clarinet Quintet in B Minor, Opus 115.

On 3 December, Berkeley Chamber Performances presents San Francisco Chamber Musicians at the Berkeley City Club, performing Schubert's D 471 Trio, William Grant Still's Lyric Quartette, & Schubert D 803 Octet.

A chamber group of Berkeley Symphony musicians (Dan Flanagan, violin; Evan Kahn, cello; Rufus David Olivier, bassoon; Elizabeth Dorman, piano; & Roman Fukshansky, clarinet) perform Tradition, a program curated by Fukshansky, featuring the Brahms Clarinet Trio in A minor, Opus 114, Glinka's Trio Pathétique in D minor, & Srul Irving Glick's The Klezmer’s Wedding; & that's 8 December at the Piedmont Center for the Arts & 9 December at Freight & Salvage.

The Friction Quartet (Otis Harriel & Kevin Rogers, violins; Mitso Floor, viola; Doug Machiz, cello) perform John's Book of Alleged Dances by John Adams, Canções da America by Clarice Assad, & Family Group with Aliens (a Friction commission) by Piers Hellawell on 12 December at the Noe Valley Ministry in San Francisco & 13 December at Saint Mark's Episcopal in Palo Alto.

Early / Baroque Music

Voices of Music presents virtuoso concertos by Corelli, Sammartini, & Vivaldi along with dance music by Telemann, Praetorius, & Purcell, with soloists Manami Mizumoto, Isabelle Seula Lee, William Skeen and Hanneke van Proosdij, & that's 6 December at First Congregational in Berkelely, 7 December at the Taube Atrium Theater in San Francisco, & 8 December at the Unitarian Universalist Church in Palo Alto.

On 8 December at UC Berkeley's Hertz Hall, David H Miller leads the University Baroque Ensemble in In spite of cold weather, a program featuring 17th & 18th century music for winter from England, France, & Italy.

Guest conductor Ruben Valenzuela leads Philharmonia Baroque Orchestra & Chorale in A Bach Christmas, featuring soprano Sherezade Panthaki in the cantatas Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland, BWV 62 & Herz und Mund und Tat und Leben, BWV 147a, along with Christopher Craupner's Reiner Geist, lass doch mein Herz, GWV 1138/11 & his Overture in F Major, GWV 445, & you can hear it all on 11 December at Bing Concert Hall at Stanford, 12 December at Herbst Theater in San Francisco, & 13 December at First Congregational in Berkeley.

On 12 December at Grace Cathedral, Jeffrey Thomas leads the American Bach Soloists in A Baroque Christmas, with soloists soprano Mary Wilson, countertenor Eric Jurenas, tenor Jon Lee Keenan, & baritone Jesse Blumberg in Part 1 of Bach's Christmas Oratorio & his Gloria in excelsis Deo & the Christmas section of Handel's Messiah as well as the Hallelujah Chorus.

Guest conductor Derek Tam leads the California Bach Society in Gaudete: A Christmas Dialogue Across Centuries, featuring nativity texts from Praetorius, Victoria, Clemens non Papa, Schütz, Britten, Poulenc, Thad Jones, & Francis Melville; the concert is "framed by two Ave Marias, one a medieval chant, the other a ravishing setting by the 20th-century German choral master Franz Biebl", & you can hear it all on 13 December at Saint Gregory of Nyssa Episcopal in San Francisco, 14 December at First Presbyterian in Palo Alto, & 15 December at First Congregational in Berkeley.

On 15 December the Cantata Collective continues its traversal of Bach's cantatas, presented for free at Saint Mary Magdalen's in Berkeley, with Also hat Gott die Welt geliebt, BWV 68 & Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott, BWV 80, with soloists Jennifer Paulino (soprano), Heidi Waterman (alto), Brian Giebler (tenor), & Harrison Hintzsche (bass).

On 31 December at Herbst Theater, Jeffrey Thomas leads the American Bach Soloists, with guest vocalists Maya Kherani (soprano) & Eric Jurenas (countertenor), in A Baroque New Year's Eve at the Opera, featuring arias, duets, & overtures from Handel (Riccardo primo, Partenope, Il Trionfo del Tempo e del Disinganno, Flavio, Rinaldo, Ariodante, & Giulio Cesare), Rameau (Naïs, Platée, & Les indes galantes), & Graun (Cesare e Cleopatra).

Messiahs

On 6 - 7 December at Davies Hall, Stephen Stubbs leads the San Francisco Symphony in Messiah, with soloists Amanda Forsythe (soprano), John Holiday (countertenor), Aaron Sheehan (tenor), & Douglas Williams (baritone).

Urs Leonhardt Steiner leads the Golden Gate Symphony Orchestra & Chorus & you in their annual Sing It Yourself Messiah!, on 8 December at Herbst Theater in San Francisco & 15 December at the Benicia Clock Tower in Benecia.

On 13 December at Grace Cathedral, Jeffrey Thomas leads the American Bach Soloists in Messiah, with featured soloists soprano Mary Wilson, countertenor Eric Jurenas, tenor Jon Lee Keenan, & baritone Jesse Blumberg.

Nutcrackers

San Francisco Ballet, the big powerhouse among Bay Area Nutcrackers, presents its version (choreography by Helgi Tomasson), at the Opera House from 6 to 29 December.

On 14 - 15 December in Zellerbach Hall, Cal Performances presents tap-dancing Dorrance Dance in The Nutcracker Suite, a contemporary version of the ballet using the Ellington / Strayhorn version of Tchaikovsky's score.

If you can't sit still while the sugarplums are waltzing, the San Francisco Pride Band gives you the Dance-Along Nutcracker, "Part comedy musical, part dance-it-yourself ballet, and part symphonic concert", on 7 - 8 December at the Yerba Buena Center in San Francisco.

The Oakland Ballet presents Graham Lustig's production of The Nutcracker, with Tchaikovsky's score performed by the Oakland Symphony & the Piedmont East Bay Children’s Choir, on 21 - 22 December at the Paramount.

Dance

ODC/Dance gives us its annual holiday performances of The Velveteen Rabbit, choreographed by KT Nelson, at the Yerba Buena Center from 30 November to 8 December.

Smuin Ballet continues its run of The Christmas Ballet on 5 - 8  December at the Mountain View Center for the Performing Arts, & 13 - 24 December at the Yerba Buena Center in San Francisco (20 December is LGBTQ+ Night with special guest Lady Camden).

Art Means Painting

In a year full of bad news, here's some more: the CJM (Contemporary Jewish Museum) has announced that it will be closing for at least a year, beginning on 15 December (admission is free until then, & they have some interesting exhibits on view). You can read the whole message here. It's not unprecedented for a local museum to close for an extended period – both SFMOMA & the Asian Art Museum have done so – but that was during renovations or while moving to a new facility. Here's hoping the CJM will come through in good shape.

Qi Baishi: Inspiration in Ink, an exhibit of the 20th century painter "whose work revitalized traditional Chinese ink painting", opens at the Asian Art Museum on 12 December.

A couple of new shows are opening at SFMOMA: on 14 December, the 2024 SECA [Society for the Encouragement of Contemporary Art] Art Award Exhibition features Rose D’Amato, Angela Hennessy, & Rupy C Tut; & on 21 December, New Work: Samson Young features Intentness and songs, a multimedia installation.

Cinematic

On 11 December, the Jewish Community Center of San Francisco screens a restored version of the 1937 classic The Dybbuk, with live music by Yenne Velt & an introduction by Nathaniel Deutsch.

As part of its holiday programming, the San Francisco Symphony is performing a live score to a couple of films: Susie Benchasil Seiter leads Miles Goodman's score to The Muppet Christmas Carol (starring Michael Caine &, of course, the Muppets) on 12 & 14 December, & John Debney leads his own score to Elf (starring Will Farrell), a movie many people liked a lot more than I did, on 19 - 21 December.

BAM/PFA has its usual enticing line-up of film series launching this month (please note that the museum will have modified hours starting on the 14th, closing at 5:00 rather than 7:00, & will be closed entirely from 23 December through 5 January 2025):

* G. W. Pabst: Selected Films, 1925–38 opens 7 December & runs through 28 February 2025; if you need a reminder of why you'd want to see his films, here are some titles: Pandora's Box, Diary of a Lost Girl (both with Louise Brooks, of course), The Threepenny Opera. . . .;

* To Exalt the Ephemeral: Artists on Screen, in conjunction with the museum's current exhibit To Exalt the Ephemeral: The (Im)permanent Collection, showcases films by & about artists like Joan Mitchell, Agnes Martin, Jay DeFeo, & Eva Hesse, & that runs 8 to 22 December;

* Marcello Mastroianni at 100, which is self-describing & self-recommending, runs from 15 December to 27 February 2025.

BAM/PFA is also showing Chaplin's Modern Times on 21 December.

Find some joy where you can, & to all a good night.

Poem of the Week 2024/47

Dead

The Winter is her lover now,

    A brilliant one and bold;

And she has gone away from me,

    Estranged and white and cold.

He painted all the hills for her

    And laughed the skies blue-warm;

He rattled down the pears and plums

    And crashed a happy storm.

Then southward-swinging lines of birds,

    And chilly rains he sent,

And sharpness in the air to prove

    His serious intent.

And now at last her heart is won.

    She's gone – where did she pass?

For Winter holds his breath and see –

    This frost upon the grass.

– Elizabeth Bishop

This early (1930) poem by Bishop has the feeling of a classic English lyric – the ballad meter (4/3/4/3 beats in a quatrain, with regular rhymes on the second & fourth lines), the vivid evocation of a seasonal change, with metaphorical implications, the attention-catching details – yet it also has something modern & ambiguous about it.

Who is the she being described? On the most basic level, it's another human being, a friend or former lover of the poet. But you could also read it in a larger sense as the Earth (usually characterized as a woman; in many mythologies, the earth, the source of life, is a woman & the sun, which helps bring forth life in the warmer seasons, is a male) conquered by Winter. You could see the poem as describing the death of this woman, or perhaps as the death of her relationship with the narrator. The title Dead perhaps tips the scale too much, but what is dead could refer to a romance as well as to a once-living person.

The characterization of Winter, usually portrayed as an icy old man nearing his end, is unusual. Winter is quite a dashing figure here, dashing in both the sense of extremely, energetically active & also stylish & attractive. He is brilliant & bold, adjectives usually associated with sunnier times, but they make perfect sense in this poem's presentation. In the second stanza, like an artist he paints the hills (& leaves & grass do change color as Winter approaches; Bishop was always an accurate observer of the natural world) & it is his laughter, a distinctive way of describing Winter, that turns the skies blue-warm during second summer, the brief period of warm weather that usually occurs sometime in the Fall. He energetically rattles down the pears & plums, & though they're falling, the reference to them is a reminder of harvest-time abundance. Also, plums are a summer fruit, & pears ripen in autumn, so again the transition of seasons is underlined through precise observation of Nature. Then in the third stanza, Winter's energy turns a bit darker, a bit more threatening: he sends the birds migrating south, there is increasing sharpness in the air. There are chilly rains; storms, like the theatrically crashing one in the previous stanza, tend to be of shorter duration than rain, which can last steadily for days.

In the first stanza, the declaration that Winter is her lover now strongly (though maybe not definitively) suggests that the woman is a former lover of the poet's; estranged in the final line suggests (again, not definitely) that what is being described is the end of a romance instead of a life. It would be an unusual word to describe someone's physical death, but a standard one to describe a spouse or lover who had moved out or moved on. She has gone away from me could refer metaphorically to death, or to her departure from the narrator's life.

The final stanza both both summarizes & suggests. Bishop continues the metaphor of Winter as a successful wooer of the woman – at last, her heart is won; all the colors & falling fruit & increasingly serious signs of Winter have succeeded. She is gone. And where did she pass? Pass can mean to go in a certain direction or to leave behind; it is also a common euphemism for death. But the poem's question is not when, why, or how but where did she pass – where did the final act, whether it was moving on or dying, take place? It's an interesting emphasis that suggests the importance of place, & encourages a reader to think of the departed She as maybe not a single individual but, as I suggested earlier, the Earth itself, or as a sort of Persephone abducted to the Underworld, bereaving us of flowers & greenery. Whether an individual or more generally the Natural world, the phrase could also mean where did she pass to, suggesting our never-ending curiosity about & ignorance of what happens to our spirits when physical death strikes us (or, in the case of the Earth, where are the snows of yesteryear?). It's a resonant question.

Even the Winter, the successful wooer, is holding his breath to see what happens. Throughout the poem there has been a conflation of death & love; Winter, usually a time of endings, is here presented as a vigorous, appealing new suitor. The narrator's sadness is presented in a few lines, but the bulk of the poem is a quite appealing picture of an oncoming end: laughter, blue skies, fruit falling. Whether it is the end of a season, or a love affair, or a life that is being presented here, the process is shown as enticing, as seductive, though it ends in some form of death. The final line is powerfully evocative & mysterious. We are left with that sign of Winter, frost upon the grass. Does this represent where she "passed"? The growth (eternal renewal of Nature!) on her gravesite? Is the frost on the grass a sign of what happened to the Earth? A sort of Whitmanesque invocation of the power of even small manifestations of life force as a leaf of grass to move us beyond an individual passing? It is, appropriately for a poem titled Dead, a haunting ending.

I took this poem from Poems, Prose, and Letters by Elizabeth Bishop, edited by Robert Giroux & Lloyd Schwartz for the Library of America.

Museum Monday 2024/47

 

detail from one of the tapestries on display as part of the de Young Museum's current special exhibit, Art and War in the Renaissance: The Battle of Pavia Tapestries

Friday Photo 2024/46

 

an urn at First Church in Berkeley

Poem of the Week 2024/46

Air has no Residence, no Neighbor,

No Ear, no Door,

No Apprehension of Another

Oh, Happy Air!

Ethereal Guest at e'en an Outcast's Pillow –

Essential Host, in Life's faint, wailing Inn,

Later than Light thy Consciousness accost me

Till it depart, persuading Mine –

– Emily Dickinson

Possibly the first science fact that made a huge impression on me was the statement "Air is everywhere". I'm not sure what about it hit my first-grade brain with such force. Perhaps it was just the realization that where I had thought there was Nothing, there was in fact Something, something unseen but ever-present, even unavoidable, something that, without knowing it, I had depended on from the moment of birth..

Dickinson begins this poem with something of that aura (or, we might say, something of that air) of being present & necessary while also absent. Air is disembodied, as the poet implicitly wishes she were: no set residence, so no housekeeping or neighbors; no ears to have to listen to them, no doors either keeping one in or letting other people in (as there's no residence, air is always out, without needing to go out formally through something so mundane as a door). Above all, air has no apprehension of another, and apprehension can mean both understanding or grasping conceptually a person or thing & also anxiety or fear about dealing with a person or thing. The poet is wishing to be cut off from the limitations, the bother, the unpleasantness & boredom, & also the anxieties & fears, of life: free from all that, like the Air; Oh, Happy Air!

But can Air actually be happy? Underlying the conception here is an assumption of consciousness: the poet wishes to be as free as the air, but still, somehow, connected to humanity, or at least the "good" parts of it (like happiness): present, in the "air is everywhere" way; essential to life, but free of its burdens.

The second stanza develops this idea. While the first emphasizes the ways the envied Air is different from people (no set dwelling or irritating neighbors, none of the floating anxieties of existence), the second emphasizes the way Air is deeply connected with human life. In the first line, Air is modified by ethereal, & besides the musical sound of ethereal air, the word suggests something heavenly, floating above the world, yet this almost angelic atmosphere visits, as on a mission of mercy, even the lowliest & most wretched – the outcast of the earth.

In the second line, Air transmutes from Guest to Host, from visitor to provider at Life's faint, wailing Inn. And it's true, Air provides essential sustenance, just as an earthly innkeeper does. The Inn is Life, & we, humanity, are the passing guests, maintained there for a while by Air. But this isn't some bustling, hearty Inn out of a Victorian novel; it's faint & wailing. Faint suggests fading, loss of consciousness, weakness; wailing suggests lamentation, sobbing, anger. The two seem connected: our weakness leads to anger & sorrow. The two adjectives together also suggest both childbirth & death: the weakness of a mother after labor, the crying of her newborn; the loss of consciousness attendant on death, followed by our sorrow at our loss.

The association with death is strengthened in the final lines, in which the poet, realizing that her lot is with humanity & not the air, reflects on her own end: Light is one of the last things left as we lose our grip on existence, & when that goes, when we can no longer see (or, to use a term evoked earlier in this poem, apprehend) the world, we have one more final & most essential thing: breath. Air is breath, & our final exhalation can carry our soul with it, out of our body, into the air. Dickinson uses the intimate form in addressing & personifying this manifestation of air: thy; such is her dependence on, & subsequent intimacy with, this universal element. She talks, as if she were addressing a friend, about thy Consciousness, which suggests both the air's awareness – all along, she has been describing the air as if it had human components, not merely atmospheric – & her own awareness of the world as its light passes from her (as she is the one projecting consciousness onto a non-living gas).

This Consciousness accosts her: that is, it approaches her boldly, as a determined & final messenger. She & the Air, meaning she & her breath, & she & her soul, are tied up with this universal (air is everywhere!) element. The Air comes to receive from the dying poet her last breath. It departs, persuading Mine – meaning it takes her final breath with it, "persuading" it to join itself to Air. The poem ends, significantly, with a dash – beyond the finality of the death described in the final lines, there is an unknown ending, a possible continuation of some sort – nothing so firm & definitive as a period belongs here. The poem floats off, like our final breath.

Throughout, despite her envy of Air's nonhuman qualities, Dickinson gives to Air a certain awareness, & a vital role in human life. In this way Air mirrors our own consciousness; however much we may long to float above the boredom & suffering of life, however tired we are of the constant maintenance it needs, we can never quite imagine the world without our consciousness floating through it, present everywhere.

This is Poem 1060 in the Thomas Johnson edition of The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson.

Museum Monday 2024/46

 

detail of Light Falling Like a Broken Chain; Paradise by Mary Weatherford, currently on view at BAM/PFA as part of Making Their Mark: Works from the Shah Garg Collection

On 14 November, the museum presents a Conversation with Artists Mary Weatherford and Aria Dean: Gut Punch – Reenvisioning Abstract Expressionism, moderated by Katy Siegel of SFMOMA

Friday Photo 2024/45

 

a pear

Poem of the Week 2024/45

Our legions are brimful, our cause is ripe.

The enemy increaseth every day;

We, at the height, are ready to decline.

There is a tide in the affairs of men

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;

Omitted, all the voyage of their life

Is bound in shallows and in miseries.

On such a full sea are we now afloat,

And we must take the current when it serves,

Or lose our ventures.

– William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, Act IV, Scene 3, ll 214 - 223

I had a different poem planned for today, but agitation over the presidential election has gotten the better of me & my original selection will have to wait. This passage jumped into my mind, because Shakespeare has something to say to every moment, & this does feel like a turning point in the country's history, a pretty clear choice between a backward-looking – well, that's not quite the right phrase; backward, yes, but looking to a past that was invented, or merely hallucinated, by some citizens, to the exclusion & often intense suffering of many other citizens – rage-filled fascist (who is also, quite clearly, in cognitive decline, & I do not say that lightly or callously) versus, you know, an actual functioning adult, who has a track record of trying to help her fellow citizens. And yet it's close. I remain baffled & frankly disgusted. I guess this election, like the Civil War (of which it is, in fact, another manifestation) will never end, but only continue in different mutations.

Brutus makes this speech to persuade his fellow conspirators to join battle at Philippi with the forces of Octavius Caesar (later to be Caesar Augustus), Marc Anthony, & the negligible Lepidus. Brutus, famously described in his funeral oration for Caesar by Marc Anthony with searing, sneering irony as "an honorable man", is, in actual fact, an honorable man, brought in my Cassius to lend moral & intellectual respectability to their plot to assassinate Caesar, thereby ending his burgeoning power. The alliance between the conspirators is already fraying, but Cassius gives in to Brutus, to conciliate him, with disastrous results for their cause.

Yet Brutus really isn't wrong in his assessment: he knows their alliance, their armies, their power, are all starting to fall apart, while the strength of Octavius & Anthony is growing. Strike while the iron is hot, in other words, & strike before your enemy gets out of your control. Brutus, being a philosophically inclined politician, speaks not of strategy or military advantage, as a politician or a general would, but of things a philosopher would talk of: how to live in the world, how to judge the unknowable ways of Fortune (& of History). The metaphors are grand: the ocean, the tide rising & falling, the full sea, & we in our uncertain little ship, trying to negotiate the hazards around us. Brutus knows that the events around us are uncontrollable; it's how we respond that makes a successful life. We are on a voyage, separated from the deep & powerful sea only by our relatively frail ship, trying to negotiate often unseen dangers. Brutus's advice here is actually quite sound; it turns out to be exactly the wrong thing to do, as the more realistic & calculating Cassius had tried to say, but still: good advice. But the mysterious turns of Fortune (or, as we might say, of History) are as unfathomable as the sea.

When I was young, Julius Caesar used to be featured on high school reading lists (which is not where I read it; I read all of Shakespeare on my own); I suspect the real reason is that the verse is fairly straightforward (plus there's a stabbing, & ghosts, & it's "historical", but not about English kings we don't care about anymore unless it's through Shakespeare's words), but it used to be presented as showing "Shakespeare supported democracy", because we like to believe that great artists believe what we claim to believe. This struck juvenile & precocious me as, you know, implausible: even the American revolutionaries, two centuries after Shakespeare's birth, didn't believe in "democracy" the way we understand it (which is one of the reasons we're saddled with the goddam Electoral College), & even if Shakespeare (the all-seeing!) had somehow decided democracy was the way to go, it's unlikely that he could present a work defending it under a monarchy vigilant of its prerogatives & on the constant look-out for subversion.

So Julius Caesar is not about "supporting democracy"; as always with Shakespeare, any interpretation can be undercut, even if it's the official resolution of the play (think of the happy ending of The Merchant of Venice; after what we've experienced of Shylock, & why he acts the way he does, & how he's treated (& how in turn he treats others), it's difficult to take the "happy ending" without some reservations; even the end of Twelfth Night leads some people I know to a feeling of sadness for the madly-used Malvolio). We can come away concluding that it was wrong to assassinate Julius Caesar, but Caesar himself is presented as a superstitious, flawed man with a constant politician's eye on the main chance – he often seems like a performative Noble Roman, in such moments as the one in which someone urges on him a petition concerning his own safety & he grandly announced that that one will be considered last.

So if you need to find a "meaning" or "moral" in this play, perhaps it's only that we are all wandering, lost, through the mysteries of life. Noble, well-meant actions end up in murder, deceit, & treachery; cruelty & cunning result in peace & prosperity. Much depends on chance & actions & outcomes we don't control. Brutus & Cassius thought they were saving the Republic, or (for Cassius), maybe just themselves; centuries later, Dante stuck each of them, along with the arch-traitor Judas Iscariot, each in one of Satan's three mouths. Others consider them heroes &, despite their aristocratic standing, revolutionary role models.

All we can do is try for the best. That means choosing openness, respect, accountability, mutual support. If my deluded fellow citizens & our semi-functioning system do put the fascist back in power, it's important to remember that we still don't know how things will turn out. Keep hopeful, keep fighting.

Perhaps by the time this entry is posted, we will know if Americans chose, to be blunt, Right or Wrong. But it's good to keep in mind, for purposes of checking our own egos, that everybody thinks their choice is for the Right. The essential thing is to look clearly, widely, & compassionately (to see, in short, with the sort of vision Shakespeare had).

Museum Monday 2024/45

 

detail of Saint John the Baptist by Domenikos Theotokopoulos (El Greco), now at the Legion of Honor in San Francisco

Friday Photo 2024/44

 

Lincoln Park San Francisco

Poem of the Week 2024/44

 For Halloween week, two by Robert Herrick. The first:

The Hag

1.    The hag is astride,

        This night for to ride;

The Devill and shee together:

        Through thick, and through thin;

        Now out, and then in,

Though ne'r so foule be the weather.

2.     A thorn or a burr

        She takes for a Spurre:

With a lash of a Bramble she rides now,

        Through Brakes and through Bryars:

        O're Ditches, and Mires;

She followes the Spirit that guides now.

3.     No Beast, for his food,

        Dares now range the wood;

But husht in his laire he lies lurking:

        While mischeifs, by these,

        On Land and on Seas,

At noone of Night are a working.

4.    The storme will arise,

        And trouble the skies;

This night, and more for the wonder,

        The ghost from the Tomb

        Affrighted shall come,

Cal'd out by the clap of the Thunder.

The second:

The Hagg.

    The staffe is now greas'd,

    And very well pleas'd,

She cockes out her Arse at the parting;

    To an old Ram Goat,

    That rattles i' th' throat,

Halfe choakt with the stink of her farting.

    In a dirtie Haire-lace

    She leads on a brace

Of black-bore-cats to attend her;

    Who scratch at the Moone,

    And threaten at noone

Of night from Heaven for to rend her.

    A hunting she goes;

    A crackt horne she blowes;

At which the hounds fall a bounding;

    While th' Moone in her sphere

    Peepes trembling for feare,

And night's afraid of the sounding.

– Robert Herrick

Two poems by the same poet, on the same theme, using many of the same images – the flying witch, the noon of night (that is, midnight), fear spread among wild animals, the Devil (the Ram Goat in the second poem is an image of a devil) – even the same title (with an additional g in the second), & yet I find the effect of the two very different.

Both hags are clearly "bad", of, if you prefer, outside of standard societal norms, but with Hag 1 there's something frankly appealing about the picture: she's powerful, insouciant, with a literally Devil-may-care attitude. She has the traditional witch/pagan link to the Natural world: she rides out at night, soaring through the sky, fearless of wind or rain; the references in Stanza 2 to her using a thorn as a spur & a prickly vine as a lash are reminiscent of poetic descriptions of the fairy-world (see, for example, A Midsummer Night's Dream or the Queen Mab speech in Romeo & Juliet). And even though the fairy-world is darker & more menacing than we of the modern age like to think, there is still something appealing about it, something striking & beautiful, as in any natural mystery. We could live side by side with this world & feel not unease or danger but the richness of unseen possibilities.

Hag 1 causes mischief (or mischeifs, as the seventeenth-century spelling has it) but implicit in the word is a sense of playfulness, something that is more an inconvenient prank than a serious threat. And the harm that is being done isn't shown affecting humans, at least directly; it's the forest predators (who are themselves possible dangers to people) who cower in their caves until the hag passes. She causes storms (like the Weird Sisters in Macbeth), but, again, the danger doesn't seem to threaten humans directly. Instead we get the extremely picturesque image of ghosts, themselves frightened by her powers, coming out when the thunderclaps are most violent. Hag 1 seems to have great power, which, at some level, is always appealing, or at least intriguing, to people. She soars above, heedless. She is linked to Nature, but can also manipulate it (mostly, it seems, for theatrical effect; her actions don't seem to have any purpose more specific than stirring things up). It's an image that charms.

Hag 2, on the other hand, is much grosser. The first stanza describes some sort of sexual encounter with a devil, & not a charming, sophisticated devil either (like Goethe's Mephistopheles), but an old goat (click here for one of Goya's images of witches consorting with Satan in the form of a giant goat). The staff that is greased might refer to the stick she uses as her air-borne steed, but it has an unmistakably phallic undercurrent; perhaps she & Satan are using some sort of dildo. Her parting shot is an offensive fart. It's a physical encounter, but a mostly unappealing one: greasy, smelly, gagging.

Hag 1's appearance is never mentioned, except for what's implicit in the word "hag". Hag 2's appearance is described a little more fully. She is wearing a haire-lace, which seems to be a wig of some sort with a lace base. So she probably is bald, or balding, & her wig is dirty (& if the wig is dirty, she herself is probably not clean either). We are made conscious of her ass & her farts. It's a crude picture. Her familiars are a little crowd of black cats, of nasty disposition, scratching at the Moon, as if they would scratch it out of heaven. The moon is often associated with Hecate, a goddess who became associated with witchcraft, as well as with night-time & changeability. Hag 2 shoves her butt at the Devil & her cats claw at the Moon: she certainly seems to bite the hand that feeds her, but mostly in a crude, fairly nasty way: nothing insouciant here! She also haunts & hunts through the forest, but it's a little unclear what she's hunting for – whatever it is, she's out to harm; even Night & the Moon fear her hunting. Even the sound of hunting (so often invoked by composers) is ugly here: her horn is cracked (another unavoidably phallic reference, to a damaged instrument), producing a sound that produces fear & trembling. We have the feeling in both poems of supernatural forces, but with Hag 1 they seem at play & with Hag 2 at work.

Happy Halloween!

These poems are from The Complete Poetry of Robert Herrick, edited by Tom T. Cain and Ruth Connolly, published by Oxford University Press.