This may not be heart-breaking news to the average person who enjoys attending live performances at Santa Rosa’s Wells Fargo Center, but it’s a heart-breaker to the average media person who enjoys previewing live performances at Santa Rosa’s Wells Fargo Center and it actually may impact the average life as well. Rick Bartalini, the tireless caretaker to the stars, who sees to it that Lisa “Queen of Mean” Lampanelli has flower petals floating in her dressing room’s toilet; who treated Dolly Parton like the pink-infused star she is; who worships Cher and Olivia Newton-John; and who has consistently pulled such acts at Lyle Lovett, Steely Dan, Diana Krall and other national tourers to our bit o’ cowpatch will do so no more. His official release is below; we’re awaiting some actual info from him on it. Darn it, Rick, you’re going to be missed.
Rick with Johnny Mathis
January 27, 2010 | SANTA ROSA, CA | It was announced today that after 11 years at Wells Fargo Center for the Arts in Santa Rosa, California, Rick Bartalini has left his position as Director of Entertainment Programs. Bartalini was responsible for talent buying and oversight of over 50 annual high-profile entertainment events at the intimate 1,668 capacity venue. In this role, Bartalini was responsible for nearly half the Center’s operating budget. Over the years he brought top level talent to Sonoma County which included such artists as Johnny Mathis, Lyle Lovett, Dolly Parton, George Lopez, Carole King, Steely Dan, Journey, Juan Gabriel, Marco Antonio Solis, Sheryl Crow, Diana Krall, Ellen DeGeneres, Keith Urban, Diana Ross, Olivia Newton-John and others.
In 2007 and 2008, Bartalini negotiated deals to record and broadcast four national and worldwide television specials from the Arts Center featuring Kathy Griffin, George Carlin, Dana Carvey and most recently Lisa Lampanelli. The Lampanelli HBO special aired in February 2009 before a worldwide audience of 2.7 million viewers (nearly the highest rated HBO special in history, 2nd only to Chris Rock) and was later released on CD and DVD.
Says Bartalini: ”I am grateful for the amazing 11-year run at the Center and I am very proud that, together with my colleagues Jeremy French, Chrissy Hall, the staff and Board, we created experiences artists and fans will never forget. The theater is now ranked among the Top 60 Theaters Worldwide (Source: Pollstar) and I sincerely thank all of the artists, agents, managers and industry professionals who have partnered with us over the last decade.”
In 2006, The Press Democrat called Bartalini “a major reason the Wells Fargo Center, Sonoma County’s largest concert venue, has raised its profile.” Former Executive Director of the Center David Fischer said, “If rust never sleeps, then neither does Rick.” Said Texas singer-songwriter Lyle Lovett, “We always look forward to seeing Rick when we come through.” In 2008, the North Bay Biz Magazine said of Bartalini, “he’s helped put the Center and Santa Rosa on the map, consistently booking high-profile artists.”
“It’s been an honor to be a part of bringing these memorable experiences to my hometown,” said Bartalini. “I look forward to finding another enriching outlet which will allow me to continue this work, whether it be in Sonoma County or elsewhere.”
The Noir City Film Festival opened this past weekend at the Castro Theatre in San Francisco, and how else to kick things off but by showing a short compilation on the historic theater’s screen of classic noir scenes edited by 20-year-old SRJC student Serena Bramble from Santa Rosa?
Yes, that’s Massive Attack’s “Angel,” juxtaposing nicely with scenes of murder, double-crossings and larceny. The crowd at the Castro loved it. Big ups, Serena!
Noir City is an incredible festival, and I’m not just saying that because last year’s theme was newspapers (read about it here). It’s because it does what any great film festival should do: inspire. After renting nothing but pre-1965 movies for a solid ten years, I still wasn’t sold on film noir. One-note and blasé, I surmised. The festival changed my stance, and especially the passionate, smart and wry introductions to each movie by festival founder Eddie Muller. Consider that all proceeds go directly to the restoration of lost films, it’s truly a labor of love for the guy. And the love is contagious.
I went to last Sunday’s Marilyn Monroe double feature for two Monroe pictures I’d never seen: Niagara and The Asphalt Jungle. Coincidentally, I’d re-watched the ho-hum How to Marry a Millionaire just last week, and the difference was immeasurable. Monroe’s performance in Niagara is everything her legend is built on—sex, guile and manipulation—aided by the thundering, ominous falls themselves and a compelling script cobbled from the Double Indemnity workbook. Throw in some Hitchcockian camera angles at the top of a bell tower and a swell performance by Joseph Cotten, and you’ve got a film that blows away Gentlemen Prefer Blondes by miles.
There’s still time to catch some true gems the festival has to offer this year. Might I recommend Pickup on South Street, an evocative Samuel Fuller vehicle for the usually typecast Thelma Ritter to shine in an outstanding role. Other well-knowns include A Place in the Sun and Odds Against Tomorrow, with a slew of other treasures never released on DVD. Do yourself a favor and check the festival schedule. Pick a double feature, drive down to one of the country’s most beautiful theaters, and experience the thrill of film noir with a crowd of smart, savvy film fans. You won’t regret it.
We have taken so many kind calls today re the Oxycontin image in the Jan. 6 paper.
Here’s the deal: Stephan R., the subject, was fine with having his name shown on his ID because a scan of that text is not (yet) Google-able. Our original caption reflected that. An hour before presstime, our copyeditor suggested that, just to do our highest diligence, we alter the image to obscure his name entirely and that we change the caption. We did both things. However, and no one can quite figure this out, the image that went to press was the original. Stephan R. is not harmed by this and, while we feel like dolts, we do thank all who have contacted us about it! One young woman just suggested that if we needed to take all the papers back off the streets (30,000 and counting) we could act today, so that’s why she called. . . .
Good thing Deirdre Miller didn’t wear a Nirvana shirt and flannels in 1994, or the SRJC wouldn’t ever be able to get away with reusing the above 15-year-old photo for their brand-new 2010 Career Technical Education Guide, mailed out last week. Is it really so hard to shoot new photos instead of digging one out from 15 years ago? “Maybe I was the only girl to ever take an automotive class or something,” says Miller, who now works in lingerie and thinks the whole thing is pretty funny.
From the Sebastopol Center for the Arts press release:
photo by Rob Catterton
Sonoma County’s Sixth Poet Laureate Chosen
The newly selected Sonoma County Poet Laureate for 2010-2011 is Gwynn O’Gara of Sebastopol. Gwynn is a lifetime poet, and has been a teacher for California Poets in the Schools since 1989. She is the author of three chapbooks of poetry, Winter at Green Haven, Word Temple Press 2008, Fixer Upper, dPress 2007, and Snake Woman Poems, Beatitude Press, 1983 as well as co-author of Fruit of Life, Poems of Passion and Politics, dPress 2006. Currently she is completing a full length poetry collection titled, House of the World. Gwynn O’Gara is also known as a writing teacher, most recently at the popular series, The Writer’s Sampler sponsored by the Sebastopol Center for the Arts, and The Sitting Room in Cotati.
A resolution recognizing the Poet Laureate will be presented by the Sonoma County Board of Supervisors on December 15. The Poet Laureate Selection Committee chooses the Poet Laureate based on the nominees’ work, their demonstrated efforts in the community in the literary arts, and on statements from the nominees about the role of the Poet Laureate. The committee includes representatives from each of the five supervisorial districts, Sonoma State University, Santa Rosa Junior College, the Sonoma County Library, Sebastopol Center for the Arts and the previous Poet Laureates.
The Poet Laureate Selection Committee will hosting a reception honoring Gwynn, at the Sonoma County Library (3rd and E streets, Santa Rosa) on Friday, January 29, 2010 at 6:30 pm. The public is invited.
Due to space restrictions, the Bohemian had to cut some portions of my December 2nd cover story on homophobia in reggae music. Below are some unabridged sections and a few interesting nuggets that didn’t make the cut. ––David Sason
*
Every man got a right to decide his own destiny,
And in this judgment there is no partiality.
To divide and rule could only tear us apart;
In everyman chest, there beats a heart.
Moving on in a meaningful way us just what LGBT leaders tried at the historic meeting with Buju Banton back on October 12th in Larkspur’s Courtyard Hotel. Hopes were high for the meeting called by San Francisco City Supervisor Bevan Dufty, what with the passage of the Matthew Shepard and James Byrd, Jr. Hate Crimes Prevention Act that same week and President Obama’s equally noteworthy speech on gay rights. But alas, after a 45-minute dialogue - in which he again said he does no longer performs the song- no resolution was reached and the protest outside the Rockit Room was to go on as planned. He did at one point say, “I don’t advocate violence, Rastafari is not about that.”
That night, a blast of pepper spray near the stage (which activist groups deny orchestrating) quelled any hopes for progress. “As I said in one of my songs ‘there is no end to the war between me and faggot’,” Banton told a Jamaican talk show the next day. “After I met with them, they pepper-sprayed the concert. So what are you trying to tell me? I owe dem nothing, they don’t owe I nothing.”
In response to the meeting attendees’ request that Banton hold a town meeting in Kingston on the importance of respecting gays, he confirmed his stance: “Them come with demands, which I and I a go flop dem right now,” he said, “because give thanks to my culture and upbringing I coulda never endorse them things. I can’t sell myself out, neither would I do that in a thousand years.”
What about Bob?
Perhaps no one in the world knows more about the “golden age of reggae” of the ‘60s and ‘70s than Roger Steffens, founding editor of “The Beat” magazine and chairman of the Reggae Grammy Committee since it started in 1984. Chances are you’ve read his liner notes, seen him as a talking head on TV, or have heard of his “Life of Bob Marley” exhibit, which has graced countless museums internationally over the past 25 years. The gargantuan collection of his memorabilia (which he’s collected since 1973) fills six rooms of his Los Angeles home, which has become an essential SoCal stop for reggae fans and artists alike. Recent visitors include fan Leonardo DiCaprio and musicians Ini Kimoze & Inner Circle. Like many, the Vietnam veteran got into reggae as a disillusioned rock fan.
“In the ‘70s, after the lawyers and the accountants had taken over the business, I was looking for something that had the great harmonies of doo-wop, but also had the spiritual & political awareness of the best of the 60s,” remembers 67-year-old Steffens, an early rock n’ roll fan who was raised on Alan Freed. After spending the end of the ‘60s as a soldier in Vietnam, Steffens lived in Berkeley where a Rolling Stone article piqued his curiosity about an exciting new island sound.” I went down to Pellucidar Books on Shattuck Avenue and I bought a used Catch a Fire,” he recalls. “The next night, I went to the little Northside Theatre and saw The Harder They Come, and bought the soundtrack at Rasputin’s on the way home. From those two days, my life changed forever.”
Having visited Jamaica regularly since 1976, Steffens is well aware of the island’s long-standing opinion of gays. “It has always been a very homophobic society, party through the influence of the fundamentalist churches, even the church of England,” he says. “And it’s only been in the past 20 years that it’s become more blatant, what with the rise of the dancehall music.”
As chairman of the Reggae Grammy Committee, Steffens has led the effort to have two categories, one for dancehall and one for roots reggae, which he insists rings truer to the more utopian hey day. “We make a great distinction between the roots artists and the dancehall artists; they’re really two separate forms of music; the rhythms are different,” he says. “I’ve been trying for years to break the category up into two, but there’s just not enough sales to warrant it in America. The terrible thing from a musical point of view is that everyone in reggae music gets tarred with this homophobic brush.”
Tropic thunder
Despite Jamaica’s national motto “Out of Many, One People”, it’s clear that “Murder Music” reflects the current state of Jamaica, which remains plagued by extreme poverty, the spread of AIDS, and homicide. As recently as 2005, the island nation had the highest murder rate in the world (and still averages one murder every six hours).
On the issue at hand, in late July 2008, a poll was conducted that asked “Whether or not you agree with their ‘lifestyle’, do you think homosexuals are entitled to the same basic rights and privileges as other people in Jamaica?” Of the respondents, only 26% said “yes,” with 70% saying “no”, and 4% undecided. Another survey revealed 96% of Jamaicans were opposed to any move to legalize homosexual relations.
(No wonder that Banton looked as diplomatically stone-faced as Bill Clinton in North Korea in all the meeting photos. In all fairness, he’s likely in just as much danger if he sympathizes.)
“The challenge is that the violence [gays and lesbians] face is one that is culturally and socially sanctioned and expected,” says Jason MacFarlane of to J-FLAG, Jamaica’s LGBT rights organization. In addition to widespread reports of the police condoning the violence against gays and taking part in it themselves, Prime Minister Bruce Golding himself was quotes as saying “homosexuals would find no solace in any cabinet” he formed.
MacFarlane sees this as evidence that the homophobia in Jamaica is not merely a result of being uneducated. “Even the “well schooled” display their own level of homophobia openly or are pressured to because it is expected,” he says, “and this creates further discrimination for the LGBT members of society.”
Even more amazing is Prime Minister Golding’s use of TOK’s aforementioned “Chi Chi Man” during his 2001 campaign against incumbent P.J. Patterson, the victim of a whispering campaign to spread rumors of his sexuality. Some critics even referred to him as “P.J. Battyson” instead of his actual name. Although Portia Simpson-Miller was first female prime minister after he stepped down, the deeply macho country has a long way to go.
“This is an island-wide phenomenon and has gotten worse in terms of the number of instances of and extent of harm that is perpetrated on this minority group,” says MacFarlane. “Thankfully the music has gotten less violent over the years, but we have seen the use of slang to show their disapproval of gays and lesbians.”
That same year that J-Flag founder Brian Williamson was murdered, JGN publisher and editor Larry Chang had to seek political asylum in the U.S. The next year, a friend of Williamson’s, AIDS education activist Lenford “Steve” Harvey was not so lucky. He was dragged from his house by armed men who repeatedly asked “Are you battyman?” before being shot to death on the eve of World AIDS Day.
Regarding the meeting in Larkspur, MacFarlane echoes Andrea Shorter’s sense of clarity. “J-FLAG is under no illusion that Mr. Myrie [Buju Banton’s real name is Mark Anthony Myrie] or other DJs of his ilk will ever be minded to produce music that preaches the dignity of all life, including that of gays and lesbians,” he says. “The fact that he sat and met with some members of the GLBT community in SF is worthy of note. The fact that nothing came out of it, not even an agreement to say let us continue the dialogue, says a whole lot more.”
“No agreement can be reached between Mr. Myrie and the gay community until he desists from publicly performing ‘Boom Bye-Bye’ and repudiates the call for the murder of gay and lesbian Jamaicans,” MacFarlane goes on to say. “Anything less is mere farce and a public relations stunt to garner support for his music.”
Getting a pass
Gary Pratt of Sonoma, 19, is a huge fan of Buju Banton and Sizzla. The Reggae Rising regular was devoted enough to watch the Fairfax show from the street since he was underage. Pratt doesn’t agree with the violent views toward gays, but points to appreciation of art. “You don’t have to agree with everything they’re singing, it’s just music and they say their thoughts through music,” he says. “My friends pretty much feel the same way. No one takes their stances on things to heart too much. They’re from a completely different culture from us.”
This justification comes up again and again, but where does it end? The KKK, Neo Nazis, people who perform the clitorectomy, purveyors of child sex slaves, they all come from a “different culture”. So do our parents. So do our children. Why all this pussyfooting and financial empowerment when it comes to English-speaking musicians a few hundred miles east of Miami who actively perpetuate a deadly environment for gays? We throw the book of public opinion at other religious zealots, from Islamic terrorists to those who perform honor killings and kill abortion doctors. Is the Roman Polanski syndrome at play with these musicians? Would Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad’s visits still be protested if he sang how the holocaust never happened in a kick-ass dancehall jam?
A better guess is the “white guilt” phenomenon. After all, Jamaica was introduced to Christianity through European colonialism. This occurrence surely came into play back when Eminem was protested for homophobic lyrics while African-American rappers were ignored.
“If somebody stood up on stage with a white sheet on his head and saying the same thing, we would be up in arms,” says Shorter, who thinks the theory could hold water. “Sometimes there’s an inclination to excuse ignorance and hatred of other minority groups because they haven’t had a fair shake themselves, but Mr. Banton is a world-traveled man. You’re a man of the world at this point, so you can’t have it both ways.”
Tatchell has been accused of racism for years because of his efforts against “Murder Music”, even though he’s trying to help save other black Jamaicans. “Would these venues host a concert by a neo-Nazi singer who called for the murder of black and Jewish people?” asks Tatchell, who’s also been labeled “the next Tipper Gore”.
“This is not a free speech issue; incitement to murder is a criminal offence in Jamaica and the U.S., and free speech does not include the right to incite the killing of other human beings,” he reminds. “The criterion for opposing incitements to homophobic murder should, in my opinion, be the same as for incitements to racist murder - zero tolerance for both.”
Doing the right thing
Most reggae fans I’ve encountered seemingly ignore their direct consumer/supplier relationship with reggae artists. What does voting against Prop 8 mean when a given person also financially supports the perpetuation of such discrimination?
“Certainly the power is in the hands of the consumer,” says Jason MacFarlane of J-Flag. “The challenge is when the consumer is unaware of the lyrics being sung and the impact they have had and continue to have on a society.”
History has proven that in a democratic society, our only power lies in our voice and our consumer dollar. And in every struggle for equality, from slave emancipation and women’s suffrage to civil rights and disabled rights, there have been those seemingly unaffected throngs whose compliance with “the way it is” eventually becomes complicity.
Whether or not you admit it, the gay rights movement is the civil rights struggle of our time. The President knows it, and 10-year-old future-lawyer Will Phillips knows it. Reggae fans and all citizens need to decide which side of history they - and their money - want to be on.
Haile Selassie, Jah Rastafari to his followers, said it best himself: “Throughout history, it has been the inaction of those who could have acted; the indifference of those who should have known better; the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most; that has made it possible for evil to triumph.”
––David Sason
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To find out how you can help LGBT people in Jamaica, please visit www.jflag.org.
To learn more about Roger Steffens and “The Life of Bob Marley” exhibit, visit www.reggaesupersite.com.
For music and upcoming tour dates for Pato Banton, please visit www.patobanton.com.
A couple days before my first Toots and the Maytals concert experience, a friend told me “when you see Toots in concert, you forget he has so many good songs; you hear a song and you’re like, ‘oh yeah!’”. For me, this moment occurred halfway through the show, when the 63-year-old Jamaican legend and his crack band launched into “Sweet and Dandy“, the divine Harder They Come soundtrack classic. Needless to say, I – and the sold-out, packed-to-the-rafters, all-ages crowd – went apeshit. Thus went the entire brilliant show, which kicked off with the apt “Do the Reggay” and the soulful and (synth) horn-heavy “Pomps and Pride“, before leading into the especially timely “Time Tough“. Though the group hasn’t been “The Maytals” since 1981, the concert was a testament to the enduring talent of Mr. Toots Hibbert, from his rhythmic acoustic guitar mastery in tracks like 2007’s “Don’t Bother Me” to his pristine voice, which still packs enough gruff (an incendiary “Funky Kingston“) and grace (a spot-on rendition of Otis Redding’s “I’ve Got Dreams to Remember“) to record those classics all over again, and wielded an endless series of Freddie Mercury-worthy call-and-response moments. While he didn’t move around onstage much, Hibbert’s stage presence was enthralling, with a formidable positive energy that kept him smiling widely and professing love to the crowd non-stop throughout the 90-minute performance. A touching moment was when Hibbert – who is widely credited with coining the term “reggae” – invited a boy/girl middle-school band onstage during the encore. They were too shy to approach the mic, but Hibbert beamed like a proud grandfather when he announced “They play reggae music!”, which was met with warm applause. Thankfully, so does Toots.
––David Sason
For more info on some of the most SOULFUL, life-affirming music ever made, visit www.tootsandthemaytals.com.
Setlist
Do the Reggay
Pomps and Pride
Pressure Drop
Time Tough
Reggae Got Soul
Bam Bam
Funky Kingston
Don’t Bother Me
Take Me Home Country Road
Sweet and Dandy
Alidina
Never Get Weary
[You got me feeling?]
Monkey Man
Encore: I’ve Got Dreams to Remember
Love Gonna Walk Out on Me
54-46 That’s My Number
The first annual Artisano event, held Nov. 14 at the Geyserville Inn, was one of those rare afternoons where giddy patrons greeted each other by saying,”I sure hope that this never gets popular!” Alas for them, as Artisano is destined to be hugely popular—and why wouldn’t it be? Small-production cult wines rarely enjoyed by the public married well with gorgeous food from local purveyors in a hidden setting on a stellar fall day. Such goodness is bound to eventually attract a crowd. Unlike this summer’s Showcase of Sonoma, which is now so huge as to resemble a tent city and which this year featured at least 15 different kinds of gazpacho and little else to eat, Artisano found patrons sitting at tables with forks thoughtfully grazing through small plates of creamy polenta with goat shank, fresh made flatbreads from a portable oven, barbecued lamb with a nutty pilaf and nuggets of fresh toffee made in nearby Healdsburg.
The small crowds made for easy access to the winemakers, all of whom were glad to chat while they poured. Douxup Wine Works co-owner Andy Cutter being a case in point. An affable man of a certain age, Cutter explained the pronunciation of his label. It’s not some fancy French lisp with the “oux” sounding like “ew.” Rather, it’s pronounced “Duck Soup,” like the Marx Brothers film, a small semantic joke that he and his wife, Douxup co-owner Deb Cutter, devised to give themselves a private chuckle with their first personal brand after decades of making wine for others. But, Andy explained, the weird spelling gave pause to his San Francisco wine broker. The guy just couldn’t sell the stuff, no matter how toothsome. So the broker got creative, telling customers that Andy was Harpo Marx’s illegitimate son and the unintelligible name a secret reference to his parentage. The wine sold out and sold out and sold out. As for the story? It took on its own bowed legs, eventually appearing—to Andy’s immense delight—as the answer to a question in the Trivial Pursuit Wine Edition.
I dare you to name another public food and wine festival where a winery staffer even has time to tell you his or her name, let alone a long rambler like that one. Let’s hope it doesn’t get popular.
This is fairly shocking and unprecedented news from the county library system. Here’s a paste-in of the press release:
The Sonoma County Library Plans 10-Day Closure
All 13 libraries in the Sonoma County Library system will be closed from 2:00 p.m. on Christmas Eve through Sunday, January 3, 2010, to help make up for a budget shortfall. The Library’s website and all online services also will be shut down during this time period. Details of the closure and instructions for cardholders about returning and renewing library materials will be available online and at the libraries by mid-November.
The Library, which gets 90 percent of its income from property taxes, needs to cut its operating budget by $1.7 million this fiscal year to make up for a shortfall in tax revenues. The Library Commission voted to close the libraries for 10 days in an effort to avoid layoffs.
“We know that people love their libraries and are dependent on the services we offer and that closing the libraries over the holidays will be a hardship,” said Library Director Sandy Cooper. “But we decided it would be better to close for 10 days rather than lay off staff or eliminate programs.”
The crowd was hushed and somber as we entered the Sebastopol Center for the Arts. Joni Davis sat at a piano, her voice washing over the audience like a piece of warm red velvet, as she swooped through the last song of the Reverent Sister’s set, a new project made up of Davis and Faun Fables’ Dawn McCarthy. Definitely an act worth getting to the show on time to see, which I unfortunately did not. Hopefully they will be around these parts again sometime soon!
After a short break, we took our seats before a stage that resembled a child’s playroom. A Fisher Price pull-a-tune toy, tiny handmade guitar, sticks, rocks, a pink plastic microphone, an old record player and a vinyl copy of ”Solitudes,” are just a few of the artifacts that surrounded local composer Jesse Olsen as he sank into a set of songs inspired by and recorded during a year-long sojourn in the high desert of New Mexico.
The high desert is a notoriously elusive environment to capture in tangible form. Thomas Merton, Georgia O’ Keefe, N. Scott Momaday and Sherwin Bitsue are only a short lists of artists, poets and writers who have attempted to encapsulate the mythical/mystical sensation of that landscape.
Olsen’s artistic interpretation, described as “fragmented songs, minimalist soundscapes, and lo-fi tape experiments,” is an intriguing addition to that canon. A bit Gastr del Sol at moments, the thoughtful jerky turns of expression, the playful interaction between words and silence made for a thought-provoking and emotional night of music. Alternating between guitar, casio keyboard and music-box, Olsen played sweet little bubbles of pop loveliness like the song “Snow Day” and followed them with forays into meandering repetitive lullabies, odes to desert sunsets and studies of the interplay between silence and expression. On “Riperian Habitat,” he sang about “relaxing into the cottonwood and sage,” later singing “I would be substance,” with the ethereal yearning that long stays in the desert seem to inspire, as one truly begins to feel the reality of being a tiny speck in a humongous universe.
Later in the set, Olsen was joined by Peter Bergquist, Maxwell Church and Ben Gustin, for rollicking songs like “Buckeye Jim,” which could have been taken straight from a late nineties Will Oldham album, all galluping fun country rock sing-a-long. The addition of mandolin, piano, and horn to the set added a welcome liveliness, a reminder that even in a sparse landscape, life still breathes and pulses.
By the end of the night, the floor was littered with the children’s toys, microphones, sticks, musicbox, cotton cloth and even a pair of socks that the barefoot Olsen discarded early in the set. There is a sense of catharsis in the crowd, as though we have all been on a journey into another place, and now back, we are surrounded by the collected detritus of the trip. It is a lovely feeling, a reminder of the ancient existentialism of certain environments, the strange hope that comes from realizing that in the scheme of it all, we are nothing but a collection of socks and sticks.
The crowd was hushed and somber as we entered the Sebastopol Center for the Arts. Joni Davis sat at a piano, her voice washing over the audience like a piece of warm red velvet, as she swooped through the last song of the Reverent Sister’s set, a new project made up of Davis and Faun Fables’ Dawn McCarthy. Definitely an act worth getting to the show on time to see, which I unfortunately did not. Hopefully they will be around these parts again sometime soon!