As always, I spent a lot of time in museums during my trip to San Francisco. I started at the Legion of Honor in Lincoln Park—the first time I’ve ever been to this museum. I went to see Artistic Luxury: Faberge, Tiffany, Lalique. I know we like to think that today’s rich spend fortunes on their luxe brands. But seriously, rich people everywhere need to demand more from their artisans.
Growing up working in a family-owned jewelry store, I was aware of the works of Peter Carl Faberge, Louis Comfort Tiffany, and Rene Lalique through photographs and other stories. These names are legends in the world of jewelry. But even that knowledge did not prepare me for the reality of their artistry.
Pictures were not allowed in the galleries. But that seemed appropriate, because I’ve seen boatloads of photos of works by these artists and they don’t even come close to the reality. (Although I have included a photo from the Legion of Honor’s Web site to set the context.)
All of these houses created amazing work, but my personal preference tends toward the works of Faberge and Lalique. Having said that, you have not experienced Tiffany glass until you’ve seen it in person, particularly the stained glass windows—the glass is not just cut pieces leaded together; they are molded and sculpted and textured to create something that is more like painting than stained glass. They were mesmerizing.
Works from the house of Faberge were even more amazing. The stars? The legendary Faberge eggs with at least a half dozen on display here. These astound. Let’s start with the enamel work—finishes so perfect, so vibrant, so incandescent that you can’t understand until you see. And I won't even try to describe the surprises hidden in each egg.
The eggs dazzled but so did the collection of flowers displayed in carved, rock-crystal vases that were so realistic you’d swear they were filled with water. Take the fluffy dandelion just waiting for someone to blow on it and release it’s seeds. Only this dandelion was crafted from the frailest gold, tiny diamonds, and of all things, asbestos fibers—a newly discovered material at the time.
And how about the frigid beauty of an ice pendant and accompanying snowflake brooch. The platinum and diamond frost on the pendant were like looking through a frosted windowpane on a beautiful winter’s eve.
I can’t leave this section without commenting on the brilliant audio tour. So many audio tours border on the silly. But here real people told real stories. Like the Faberge egg given to Princess Grace of Monaco. She loved it so much she kept in on her desk in her personal study until her death, after which her husband hid it away for more that thirty years. Or the woman on the board of the museum who, after purchasing her Faberge egg, was left without a purse to take to a party at which the museum’s head curator would be. She tucked her keys and compact in the Faberge egg and used it as a clutch. The curator nearly had a heart attack.
There's still Lalique to discuss. I’ll try and keep it short. I loved this stuff. Everything is beautiful, but much of it is beautiful in a dark way. Sure, there are flowers and birds and other images of traditional beauty. But there are also insects, snakes, and faces that moan. One orchid carved from bone was so fragile you wondered why it hadn’t wilted under the bright lights. There was a pair of dragonflies carved from bone, the wings so thin you could see through them.
So, to all you rich people that have accumulated more of our society’s wealth than any group since the great depression, I have one thing to say. The least you could do is demand more from today’s craftsmen. Until you’ve spent hundreds of millions on an original creation as beautiful as a Faberge egg or a Lalique hair comb, you’re not doing your part for the economy. Get with it.
Felix and I headed to San Francisco for a few days of fun and festivities. The main reason for our trip will be the subject of another post. But I’ll start with our first day and night.
We arrived Saturday evening on a flight that arrived a full 30 minutes early. But we lost all of that time on the cab ride to the hotel. It was the big Chinese New Year parade and our hotel was at ground zero, Union Square. With so many streets closed, it took forever to get to our hotel.
We stayed at the Hotel Handlery (once again a story for another post) and after finding our room, we immediately went to witness one of the ten largest parades in the country and the “only remaining illuminated parade.” It was really crowded and almost impossible to see anything so we went back to our room and watched it live on TV where it was narrated by Benjamin Fong-Torres. (I’m still trying to wrap my head around that name.)
Afterward we decided to spend a night on the town. I’ve been to San Francisco a bunch but I’ve never really spent any time in the Castro. With help from Matt, the friendly, funny hotel receptionist who obviously knows his way around the Castro, we learned how to take the underground to get there as well as a few ideas for dinner and clubs. The directions for the underground weren’t the best and we ended up paying twice and getting chastised by public-transportation personnel.
We had dinner at a small Italian place called Poesia where the service staff were authentically Italian, complete with sexy accents. When I ordered, our server asked if I spoke Italian, which made me feel good since I think I’ve totally lost my language skills. The food was great and hearing the friendly servers communicate with each other in authentic Italian was fun.
After dinner we did some late night shopping with retailers that were as friendly as the restaurateurs. The highlight was a stop at Out Fit. Here the staff included a hyper-attentive kid even more familiar with the Castro than Matt, a guy with a dreadlock Mohawk knitting scarves, and a young, skinny guy who could not say enough good about a club called Bearracuda. We chose not to go to the Bearracuda.
The hyper-attentive guy recommended a visit to Martuni’s (you can’t make these names up), a piano bar that had me envisioning hyper-attentive guy proudly singing show tunes. Unfortunately we couldn’t find it. Our trek did take us past a corner bar called Twin Peaks, a place Matt said is known to the locals as the "Glass Coffin" because of the big glass windows that let you see into the club from the street. The coffin reference comes from the fact that the clientele tends to be older—Matt said 80 plus but it was a flamboyant exaggeration.
Ultimately we stopped at Mix where there were not one, not two, not even three, but four men in kilts playing pool, including one hulking guy in a sinister black leather kilt offset by large white feather wings, a feather boa, and a rhinestone star brooch. I was surprised to find that all the kilt wearers weren’t even together. Mix is obviously where the kilted pool players hang out. Interesting note, kilted pool players are chatty and were happy to respond to my curious inquiries.
After Mix we stopped at Bad Lands. (More local flavor from Matt: Bad Lands is known to locals as "Sad Lands." He also compared the dance floor to tree rings with the young hot club kids in the center surrounded by concentrically older rings of dancers as you move out.) Bad Lands was a blast with some of the friendliest club goers I’ve ever encountered. And with a music mix that successfully mashed up Groove is in the Heart, I’m a Barbie Girl, and Single Ladies (Put a Ring On It), you can see why the place is packed.
Those San Franciscans may be a little quirky, but it sure makes for a fun night out.
Yes, I’ve been to yet another environmentally-themed, Sundance documentary. This time it’s Earth Days from director Robert Stone. Can you blame me? My birthday is April 22, the same day as Earth Day.
You know you’ve seen too many environmental documentaries when you start seeing the exact same stock video clips in multiple movies. And who knew Johnny Carson interviewed so many environmental activists?
There’s a documentary theme developing. What Art and Paper is to advertising, what I Knew It Was You is to acting, Earth Days is to environmentalism. It’s an opportunity to look back and celebrate the voices of the past, with little consideration for how these voices matter in the present or the future. And Earth Days left me hopeless.
The message I took away from the movies is, “We’re screwed.” Oh sure, we had a few environmental successes like ozone and cleaning up some of our water and air. But in reality, we’ve missed just about every opportunity to make real changes. Many of the environmental challenges we face today are the sames challenges faced by these early environmentalists. And we haven’t moved the ball very far. In fact I think things have only gotten worse. Sorry future generations, but we’re going to destroy the planet and there’s nothing you can do about it. There’s a Ronald Reagan speech in the movie that confirms our right as Americans to complete, consumptive excess. And I need to get busy because I’m certainly not doing my part to over populate the planet.
This movie wasn’t that great. I think it wanted to be celebratory, but it just scared me. It missed an opportunity to encourage similar environmental activism today. So let’s all go burn some fossil fuels and make some babies. It’ll make us feel better.
Refusing my own advice to lay off environmentally themed documentaries, I decided to see a screening of Dirt! The Movie. The show (which is narrated by Jamie Lee Curtis who really doesn’t have a great documentary voice) offers some interesting information; I learned a fair amount. But the movie didn’t work.
First, the film is didactic, coming across as preachy, even morally superior. So while I should have been guilted into refusing to eat commercially farmed mono crops, I was kinda like, “whatever.”
And I know it’s all the rage these days to use cutesy animations to make documentaries more approachable (thanks Morgan Spurlock). But the animations in this movie are embarrassing, really embarrassing. And they have no visual consistency. Someone needed a good art director. I’ll be surprised if Dirt! The Movie has much of reach beyond the film-festival circuit.
Everyone knows that documentaries are often the best movies at Sundance. That can also be true of the Shorts. So I always like to try and catch the Documentary Shorts screening. This year’s group included eight films and as usual they represented a wide range of topics and quality.
Some bordered on boring, like Steel Homes by director Eva Weber. This ten-minute film explores the emotional issues associated with Scottish storage units. There was the Real Place, an animated film about John Murrell from director Cam Christiansen. The animation was cool but the movie made me feel stupid. It didn’t tell me who Murrell is and seemed to suggest I should already know. (He’s a famous Canadian playwright.)
Chop Off was just plain creepy. This strangely made film by director M.M. Serra tells the story of a body modification enthusiast who is covered in tattoos and regularly chops off chunks of his fingers and toes with a hammer and chisel. Don’t rush out to rent this one.
I knew It Was You by director Richard Shepard is to acting what Art and Paper is to the advertising world. By looking back at the life of John Cazale (who died in the 70s at the age of 42), a who’s who of acting legends gets to reminisce about the good old days. At 40 minutes, this barely qualifies as a short.
More powerful was Annie P. Waldman’s So the Wind Won’t Blow It All Away which takes a look at teenagers dealing with the aftermath of Katrina. The people at GOOD (publishers of GOOD Magazine) offered two films. The better of the two was GOOD: Internet Censorship by Lindsay Utz, Morgan Currie, and Jason Jones. I love the way GOOD Magazine presents complex statistical information. And this film took the same stylized design and elevated it, informing us how American companies are contributing to Internet censorship around the world. You can watch the short here.
My pick of the group is Utopia, Part 3: The World’s Largest Shopping Mall from the “too crazy to be fiction” category. Filmmakers Sam Green and Carrie Lozano take us to a city in China that has no airport or major roadways leading to the town. A local entrepreneur turned billionaire returned to his hometown and decided to build the world’s largest shopping mall. It’s twice as big as the Mall of America. “Build it and they will come” didn’t work this time. The film wanders the strangely quiet compound. It’s all but vacant. A Teletubby-like character dances through the empty streets, waving at no one. A Gondolier guides an empty Gondola through the canals of a faux-Venice. And a worker at a lone retail store admits she’s sold nothing today. This is a fantastic film that tells an extraordinary tale with haunting humor.
I’m drawn to environmental documentaries. It’s a subject that interests me. But I’m getting a little depressed. Is it just me or are we trying to destroy the planet as fast as possible? These movies are inspiring me to change my behavior. Let’s review. Big River Man means I can no longer eat fast food burgers because we’re destroying the Amazon rain forest to satiate our never-ending need for beef. The Cove means I can't support water parks or other resort destinations that keep captive dolphins. And now with End of the Line, I’ll need to be more responsible in my consumption of seafood.
This movie from director Rupert Murray is meticulously researched. And the filmmakers traveled the world to show exactly what’s happening. What is happening? Thanks to greed (and massive improvements in commercial fishing technology), we humans have raped the oceans to the point where many fish populations have collapsed or are in the process of collapse. Does that mean we’ve stopped fishing these populations? Of course not. We just develop ever more powerful technologies to make sure we can catch every last damn fish.
This movie does offer some hope including a shout out to Alaska salmon fisheries. Alaska carefully controls its salmon industry, ensuring a reasonable harvest each and every year. And that means it’s OK to eat wild Alaskan salmon. It’s not OK to eat farmed salmon as it takes something like 15 pounds of smaller ocean fish to create one pound of farmed salmon.
The filmmakers distributed handing pocket guides to make it easier to eat seafood responsibly. If you would like to be more responsible in the way you consume seafood, you can download the pocket guide here.
At the Salt Lake City screening of End of the Line, the theater staff ditched their usual hand stamps featuring cutesy paw prints, spirals, or flowers. Instead, they proudly stamped everyone “OK.” I like this idea. In today’s gloomy economic environment, I think we could all use a little hand-stamp pick-me-up. So why not expand the library with things like “nice smile,” “lookin’ good,” or even “have you lost weight?”
As always, I spent a lot of time in museums during my trip to San Francisco. I started at the Legion of Honor in Lincoln Park—the first time I’ve ever been to this museum. I went to see Artistic Luxury: Faberge, Tiffany, Lalique. I know we like to think that today’s rich spend fortunes on their luxe brands. But seriously, rich people everywhere need to demand more from their artisans.
