Austin360 blogs > Out & About > Archives > 2006 > July
July 2006
My ‘Superman’
Movies: Heresy warning: Brandon Routh is a better Superman than Christopher Reeve. He’s warmer and more nuanced. Even his Reeve-like animatronic looks are more amiable and, as far as it goes, dramatic.
“Superman Returns” is a more sophisticated movie than most critics give it credit, too. It lacks the psychological twists of “Spider-Man 2” or even “Batman Begins,” but the addition of a credible fiance and a son for Lois Lane motivates enough positive tension to elevate the movie above mere gee-whiz summertime entertainment.
And what about Lois’ romantic choice? Torn between dashing Routh and baby-faced James Marsden as the reliable boyfriend? Tough one.
The two-boyfriend, two-daddy tug of war also tests the idea of loyalties in blended families.
And, of course, the special effects have improved exponentially since the Reeve movies. Kevin Spacey — zing! — turns in a stellar performance by underplaying Lex Luthor, clever actor that he is.
I couldn’t convince anyone to see this movie with me and, truth be told, expected a lot less. Given that it has underperformed at the box office, it now feels like my ‘Superman.” You know how that goes.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Without gay marriage…
Theater: Steven Tomlinson’s “American Fiesta” would lack its timely punch. It is a deeply divisive social issue — and Tomlinson’s monologue, enlivened by his dead-on impersonations of people in his life, makes it clear how believers on either side of the divide can make peace.
I, frankly, can’t tell you much about my third viewing of Tomlinson’s award-winning play, because my eyes were clouded with tears of laughter and empathy throughout. One thing kept coming to mind — this show could play anywhere, anytime. It really could take New York by storm, and, though that’s a cliché of sorts, that’s where plays become social forces.
If it happens, please, please take Christopher McCollum’s scenery. I’ve rarely seen sets that were more carefully calibrated to support and illustrate the story of a play. And Christi Moore’s direction needs no punching up for the big city. It’s exactly as it should be.
See it before it closes at the McCullough Theatre. In a city blessed with still-young, but distinguished playwrights, this is among Austin theater’s finest hours.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Food, glorious food
Food: Three scintillating food experiences to report;
Farm to Market Grocery: Our favorite neighborhood organic food mart celebrated its first anniversary in style Saturday. Crowds — included politicos like Jim Hightower and Max Nofziger — surged into the narrow aisles. Despite the crush, I was able to secure my entire list of 20 or so items, including the refreshing Izze sodas, which are simply fruit juice and carbonated water, in the Italian style. Two things I wish they carried — flour tortillas and crème fraîche.
Cafe Caprice: We were turned away from the new Jezebel on Congress Avenue, despite being the only customers in the place at 6:30 p.m., because we had no reservations. Oh well, their loss. So instead we tried Cafe Caprice in the old Basil’s location at 10th Street and Lamar Boulevard. What a treat! I had the chickpea fries with smoked salmon, the delicated grilled rainbow trout on some sort of pancakes and the Austin Cream Pie. The service is very Old Austin, bordering on hippie, but the eats are top notch.
Cafe Caprice. Photo by Kelly West
“Eggs”: I admit to knowing almost nothing about Michel Roux, the chef who penned this book of egg recipes. But he has risen to the highest levels of my admiration for French chefs, because his recipes are supremely easy to execute, and every one has been satisfyingly flavorsome. As the most loyal readers of this blog know, I’ve been into eggs this past year, especially since discovering — wouldn’t you know it — they are not detrimental to your health. This book contains something like 150 varieties. So expect more experiments if you are a houseguest at Chez Keller Barnes, or part of one of our road trips or vacation residences.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Cabaret kitten
Cabaret: Eartha Kitt mainlined ecstasy for Austin Cabaret Theatre’s gala on Friday. First, the woman is still sexy at 79, her body arching like an Art Deco goddess, her face, though full and a bit tucked, still kittenish.
Photo by Shaina Sullivan
Her voice sounded distant, at first, in the special events room at the Mansion on Judge’s Hill. But, then, oh, when she hit her stride, Kitt could croon and belt with the best of them. Her version of “La Vie en Rose” could have come from a 20-year-old.
Even more important, she connected. Kitt touched everyone within reach, sang into individuals’ eyes, included the whole room in her ageless glamour. If she’s playing the Carlyle next time you’re in New York, bite the credit-card bullet. You will not be disappointed.
As it was, we were in Austin. And even with our own cabaret goddess, Karen Kuykendall, in attendance, we could not help but feeling that we had reached another kind of cabaret nirvana.
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Eat the stars
Food: At long last, Austin has earned almost as many stars for its restaurants as Houston, according to this month’s Texas Monthly.
Years ago, Houston could count on seven or more “starred” eateries, while Austin made do with a single estrella for Jeffrey’s.
In the August issue, the dining writers, under the guidance of Patricia Sharpe, awarded stars to five restaurants in Austin and San Antonio. Dallas, a latecomer to the gourmet race, ties Houston with six. Galveston is the only other city with a place so honored — the seafood veteran Gaido’s.
If one counted the Four Seasons Cafe, which easily belongs on TM’s list, Austin would achieve parity with Houston and Dallas.
Here’s the breakdown:
Austin: Driskill Grill (2), Hudson’s on the Bend, Jeffrey’s (2), Uchi and Vespaio.
Dallas: Abacus, Aurora (2), Green Room, Mansion on Turtle Creek, Mercury Grill and York Street.
Houston: Cafe Annie (2), Da Marco (2), Indika (2), Mark’s, Ruggles Grill and Tony’s.
San Antonio: La Reve (the only 3-star spot in the state), L’Etoile, Liberty, Silo and Biga on the Banks.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
When you’re a Jet …
Theater: High school and college drama teachers are always tempted by “West Side Story.” Only four small adult roles intrude on a musical aged for teens, even if one usually requires a few more years training to execute the spiky Bernstein/Sondheim score or, especially, Jerome Robbins’ street-gang ballet choreography, which one is required, by copyright, to include.
Summer Stock Austin is not intimidated by such obstacles, and its current cast of high school and college performers honor the hearbreakingly direct Romeo-and-Juliet story and songs. The leads — Michael Crouch, Sarah Zeringe, Jeremy Williams, Nolan Muna and Sarah Reynolds — could hardly be faulted, but I was especially drawn to Zeringe and Crouch’s argentine portrayal of first love.
Michael Croach and Sarah Zeringe. Photo: Amitava Sarkar
The street toughs don’t convince as street toughs, but when do they ever? If they can sing and dance well, that’s all we ask.
I’ll leave the formal review to XL critic Tommy O’Malley, but given the difficulty of the material — leave aside the dated social commentary — I can safely say that, with Ginger Morris, Michael McKelvey and Robin Lewis in control, one can sit back and let this golden-age musical surge over your consciousness in wave after wave of fond appreciation.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Preview: ‘Ethan Green’
Movies: “The Mostly Unfabulous Social Life of Ethan Green” is, sad to say, mostly unfabulous.
(Sorry, the title is a gift to headline writers.)
Dean Shelton, Daniel Letterle and Diego Serrano. Photo: Bob Sebree.
Eric Orner’s alternative comic strip about a lovelorn gay man and his menagerie of friends and lovers has tickled readers, gay and straight, for decades now. It predates — and anticipates — “Queer as Folk,” “Sex and the City” and all their serial-dating-as-social-insight-and-entertainment ilk.
What makes the strip so appetizing — Orner’s brittle wit, his slightly fantasized treatment of his subjects — does not translate gracefully to the screen. (The movie arrives at the Dobie Theater, more than a year after its release, Aug. 4) Live actors, even sympathetic ones such as Daniel Letterle in the title role, are too, well, fleshy and, conversationally, wet. Another way of putting it, they are overly animated.
Screenwriter David Vernon shapes the story around real estate: Ethan’s domicile, owned by bookish ex-boyfriend Leo (the too-handsome David Monahan) and shared with lesbian best-friend Charlotte (perky Shanola Hampton), is up for sale.
What will Ethan do? Move in with current boyfriend and ex-baseball player Kyle (goofy-on-purpose, model-hot Diego Serrano)? Boink the annoying, text-messaging twink Punch (on-target Dean Shelton)? Or move into a retirement community apartment, playing into the hand of Log Cabin Republican Chester (overdone Scott Atkinson), who plans a commitment ceremony with Leo.
The cast. Back row: The ‘Hat Sisters’ (Richard Riehle and Joel Brooks); middle row seated: Leo (David Monahan), Chester (Scott Atkinson), Kyle (Diego Serrano) Punch (Dean Shelton), Charlotte (Shanola Hampton) Sunny Deal (Rebecca Lowman) and Juarez (Ramon De Ocampo); and lying down: Ethan Green (Daniel Letterle). Photo: Bob Sebree.
Confused? You should be. Continuity is not this movie’s strong suit. The personal relationships — and their relationships to the spaces around them — are too fluid for a romantic comedy with farcical touches. We never get our bearings and, worse, just don’t care about Ethan — or any of his gang. (The single actor who delivers with distinction is Meredith Baxter as Ethan’s aggravatingly tolerant mother.)
Attempts to bring Ethan’s story into the 21st century don’t completely work. The commitment ceremony, these days, would be a wedding. The cell-phone addled twink is, as visual comedy, so 2002. The constant date-swapping feels unmotivated, a ghost from another era. The Hat Sisters — a pair of older men always adorned in ornate chapeaux — are still funny on the page, but look ludicrous, dated on the screen.
All that aside, “Ethan Green” can make one smile, even chuckle occasionally.
This movie, which comes with a built-in fan base, could have broken new ground. Instead, it settles for a pale version of Orner’s sage and pioneering take on gay life.
2 out of 5 stars.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Runway scandals?
Fashion: It’s addictive. Project Runway can be watched over and over. The second and third episodes of this season developed so many story threads, so minutely edited, that multiple viewings were almost required.
Also, the harshness of the elimination process — a staple in reality TV — never seemed more appropriate. At the high end of the fashion industry, you have to perform. Feel for the losers, but, so far, you have to admit the judging has been fair. (The producers score top, articulate judges.)
Kayne and Robert’s winner
The results of Episode 2, once again, reflected my tastes. The two highest scores were deserved, as were the lowest. I can’t believe I started sympathizing with Malan, whose Miss Universe gown seemed promising in design and progress. Oh well, bye-bye Malan.
I despise Vincent, but his teammate, do-nothing Angela, was even more annoying. I wanted one of them to go.
Vincent and Angela’s loser
In Episode 3, the idea of designing for dogs and their mistresses was inspired. I’m growing to like Tim as a coach. He’s really humane, even when he’s frank about a design’s weaknesses.
Uli is going to go a long way. So is Robert. Kayne’s a lot of fun, sort of an Oklahoma Michael Raiford. Michael has all the basics; he needs to step out. Keith, who I hate, makes gorgeous dresses.
Alison’s doggie/model creation was my favorite, a complete package. But Uli won, which was fine. Bradley should have gone. Katherine should not have been booted. Angela dodged a bullet for the second time in a row.
Next week, a designer will be kicked off the show for breaking basic rules. Scandal! You know where I’ll be next Wednesday.
Oh, and The Best Week Ever blog publishes a Project Runway Drinking Game. Not that I’m encouraging martini abuse.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Good gay, bad gay
Good: We nominate as shiniest celebrity gay couple Lance Bass of ‘N Sync, who recently came out, and his “very stable” partner, Reichen Lehmkuhl, winner of Season 4 of CBS’s “Amazing Race.” Apparently, they are everywhere together!
Lance and Reichen
Bad: Then there’s sad, sad, sad George Michael, caught on camera cruising the parks in London. “I don’t believe it! (Expletive) off! If you put those pictures in the paper I’ll sue!” Mr. Michael told News of the World. Please, George, just get a room. (We’ll spare you the pics, but you can link the NOTW above.)
Good: Enough of that. In more good gay news, Austin designer of note Michael Raiford and his partner Todd Logan will marry at Toronto City Hall — where Kip and I tied the knot after 15 years — in September. Except they are also celebrating their
Bad: In a 5–4 vote, the Washington State supreme court upheld the state’s ban on same-sex marriage. Hope glimmers, however: “We see no reason, however, why the legislature or the people acting through the initiative process would be foreclosed from extending the right to marry to gay and lesbian couples in Washington,” wrote Justice Barbara Madsen, as reported in The Advocate. Indeed, she wrote, alluding to remarks made by dissenting justices that marriage equality will eventually come to pass, “while same-sex marriage may be the law at a future time, it will be because the people declare it to be, not because five members of this court have dictated it.”
Permalink | Comments (2) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Of porn, tornados & blogs
Media: More than 400 of you checked my blog Tuesday afternoon. I’m no blog genius, but I’m guessing that half of you did because the word “porn” was in the headline. Only one of you responded to my prod to comment on the degree of sexual activity at La Bare, which the City of Austin hopes to chase away from its almost industrial site at Riverside Drive and South Congress Avenue.
The thing with the headline, though, was a reference to Joel Stein’s fantastic blog Tuesday on the Los Angeles Times site. He tested several tabloid-like words in his headline — “Secret Bible Verse Foretells Housing Crash, Spawns New Diet Craze and Scares a Porn Star Straight” — to see what tempted potential readers to bite. Of course, his brand of humor is more potent than mine, but the effect was similar — a spike in readership.
Stein: “The guaranteed way to get on the most e-mailed list is to get picked up as a Drudge Report headline. A typical No. 1 L.A. Times story gets 40,000 votes, but a Drudge plug guarantees you a minimum of 50,000. Drudge, Rushfield tells me, is really into freak weather occurrences, child rape and cable TV ratings. I briefly considered ‘Weather Channel Trounces American Idol with Docudrama About Beverly Hills Tornado That Attacked Dakota Fanning,’ but I think that’s actually the plot of an upcoming indie movie.”
Permalink | Comments (2) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Is La Bare live porn?
News: The City of Austin cases against the La Bare club because it’s a sexually oriented business — too near the Texas School for the Deaf and the Town Lake Hike & Bike Trail? — puzzle me. I couldn’t tell you if it’s live porn, because they won’t admit male patrons. Ladies?
Kevin Cox, owner of La Bare. Associated Press photo: Harry Cabluck
In other News:The city has yet another just-born arts publication. Welcome to the scene River City Renassiance, which plans to cover music, art, dance, theater, opera and other cultural topics. Right now, it’s just a Web site with listings and links, but that’s a good start. At least they don’t seem to be as prickly and self-righteous as Cantaker, which lived up to its cheeky name when it premiered earlier this year.
Permalink | Comments (6) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Stones, Los Boys, Eartha and more
Culture: News accumulated while I was out of town.
The Rolling Stones. Yep, they’re playing Austin. Not in a sports stadium, but at Zilker Park, as if at ACL. Look to Austin360 late Tuesday for details.
Los Lonely Boys. How many scrapes with the law will the San Angelo brothers endure before they learn that the spotlight brings with it some expectations of discretion? Even in hotel rooms.
Recently arrested Joey “Jo Jo” Garza
Marriott vs. Las Manitas. A $185 million hotel complex looks destined to rise where the cherished, cheap eatery Las Manitas, plus three other established businesses, including the La Pena art gallery, have hung on by a thread on Congress Avenue. It was bound to happen, don’t you think?
Eartha Kitt. She purrs into town of Friday, courtesy of Austin Cabaret Theatre at the Mansion on Judge’s Hill. If you read this blog, you probably already knew that, but memories can be jogged. Look for Tommy O’Malley’s interview in XL on Thursday.
Spank. After the fire that destroyed her studio, Austin dancer/choreographer Ellen Bartel will work out of temporary quarters and plans dances at nontraditional spots.
“I will not be pursuing another dance studio in the near future,” she writes. “The loss of Center Studio, as you may remember, effected the core of my company and how I work in Austin. I briefly looked for a replacement and quickly realized I would never be able to afford a studio purely to create and teach out of. Spank would have to grow into a dance extravaganza, crazy mega-plex non-profit/profit out of control business/arts administrator thing in order for it to sustain in this crazy world. Life is too short. I’’ve moved on.”
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
York and Burke at Zach
Theater: News flash: Joe York and Martin Burke will assume their old positions at Zachary Scott Theatre next season. York, who has lived in New York City for years, digs out his wig and fishnets for “The Rocky Horror Show,” while Burke, absent for two years from his signature role, dons the elfin garb for “The Santaland Diaries.”
For as long as anyone can remember, York and Burke were among the only marquee names who could sell an Austin theatrical production. York (above) had his pick of roles, from Billy Bigelow in “Carousel” to Marvin in “Falsettos” and Stanley Kowalski in “A Streetcar Named Desire.”
Burke (above) starred in “Angels in America” and “Circumference of a Squirrel,” among other shows, and is slated play the baseball-addled accountant in the play, “Take Me Out,” next season.
For more information, call 476-0541.
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Best Texas history ever?
Books: Reasons why I think James L. Haley’s “Passionate Nation” will, in part, replace T.R. Fehrenbach’s “Lone Star” as the canonical trade history of Texas.
He tells stories I didn’t know — about the Indian wars, Mexican American friction, political races — and he tells them well.
Haley carefully edits out the unimportant, while fleshing out the bigger stories of Texas, especially 19th-century profiles.
The book balances old Texas myths against the new Texas political correctness, and convinces this reader he gets it right.
His sources, for a trade history, are transparent. His chapter on the death of Davy Crockett could be used in history classes for its precise balance of the story’s renditions.
Haley’s diction, while sometimes annoying, can be refreshingly entertaining, and he fears not calling a spade a spade.
I recommend this book whole-heartedly.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Leatherstocking opera
Travel + Opera Our Cooperstown/Glimmerglass adventure veered into misadventure Saturday when roads turned impassable due to floods along the Mohawk River, forcing us into a long detour through fertile upper valleys and by Amish farms in central New York. Along the way, we trailed a short caravan of other stranded tourists, who trusted our superior map of the worming backroads.
The wagon train arrived safely in the teeth-achingly quaint Cooperstown, established in the 18th century by the Cooper family where the Susquehanna River rises from Lake Otsego. The birthplace of James Fenimore Cooper, America’s first internationally recognized novelist, it serves as the heart of Leatherstocking country, named after Cooper’s now-dubious tales of noble savages and frontiersmen.
Cooper’s legacy is overshadowed, you might have guessed, by the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum, which dominates the central tourist district and turns Cooperstown into one of the country’s only precious Quaintvilles meant primarily for Guy Guys. (Lots of balding fathers tagging alongside pre-teen sons, savoring a last bonding vacation before full-on adolescent rebellion.)
After sampling the tourist wares, we dined on Lake Otsego at the Blue Mingo Grill (which host Johanna — fabulous director of the fantastic Goldring Arts Journalism program at Syracuse University — had misunderstood over the phone as the Blue Mango, raising scary images of a Parrothead margarita spot deep in the colonial mists of Leatherstocking land). In fact, the Mingos were a local Indian tribe who earned a particularly nasty reputation, hardly commensurate with the high-toned vacation lodge/boat house that served excellent pepper-crusted rare tuna, cumin-plastered potatoes and toothy beet salad.
Then it was off to the opera — Glimmerglass, named for Cooper’s poetic version of Otsego, a thin, curved, deep lake that mirrors the glacial Finger Lakes more than 100 miles to the west.
Glimmerglass ranks with Santa Fe among the most admired summer opera festivals in the U.S. Its low-cost building, echoing the barns of nearby historic farms, was built with side panels for hot weather, but last night it was chilly and wet, which added an edge to the world premiere of Stephen Hartke’s “The Greater Good.�
Left to right: Tenor John David DeHaan as Monsieur Loiseau, soprano Caroline Worra as Boule de Suif, soprano Jill Gardner as Madame Loiseau, and bass-baritone Seth Keeton as Cornudet in “The Greater Good.” Photo: George Mott/Glimmerglass Opera
Based on Guy de Maupassant’s vivid short story about Boule de Suif, a fat, good-natured prostitute abused by a party of proper folks during the Franco-Prussian war, it would have made a very good one-act opera, but here seemed exactly one act too long. Hartke’s marvelously flinty music mimics conversations and ambient sounds — brilliantly, in some cases, as when mattress springs go all Bernard Herrmann; lamely when horse hooves sound like crumpled plastic cups.
On opening night, the cast handled the difficult, often dissonant score with generous aplomb, especially immensely likeable Caroline Worra as the Boule de Suif. The set reminded me of the treatment given “Florencia en El Amazonas,” this time with a constantly rotating cage/carriage instead of a stage-filling river boat. I felt honored to be included on opening night of this opera, but secretly wished I had seen “Jenufa,” a longtime favorite, instead, among Glimmerglass’s five selections.
You can be sure, however, that I will return as often as I can. Opera in such a setting — and in a village of only 2,500 people — is a pleasure too luscious to resist.
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
A city upward
Travel: Syracuse, like many cities along the Rust Belt, suffers from civic depression. The Erie Canal, its original economic engine, is mostly paved over. Big manufacturers, such as Carrier, have left town. Parts of the city are boarded up, and the act of attracting new business — or failing to — is the city’s most entertaining public passion play.
Yes, the citizens ought to avoid self-loathing and the obvious perils of a proposed pyramid-scheme-like mega-mall to, instead, build on its already considerable strengths.
1. Building stock. You can buy a house here for $30,000. A nice one for $100,000, and a really nice one for $200,000 to $300,000. In fact, it’s hard to find anything priced over $400,000, except on lakefront property. Meanwhile, a tiny cottage down the street from our Bouldin house in Austin is advertized for $300,000 — and the granny house out back, the size of most garages, is up for $200,000. That’s a cool half million for perhaps 1,500 square feet. Insane.
2. Syracuse University. Its reputation only grows. Its campus expands. And Chancellor Nancy Cantor puts the university’s muscle behind bonding with downtown, which includes the school’s building where I taught on Friday, “The Warehouse,” a crisply revisioned structure with vibrant, modern classrooms near the Armory District, several blocks of organically redeveloped entertainment and shopping.
3. Great old neighborhoods. Some of them revived by gay and lesbian urban pioneers, such as the Victorian wonders in Hawley Green. I’m housed in Berkeley Park, across the street from the vast Oakwood Cemetery, where I jog each morning among the Gothic chapels, Greek temples, Egyptian pyramids, Romanesque towers … the kind of grand necropolis that, in Texas, can only be found in Galveston, if at all.
4. Food. Although I’ve dissed New York wines in past blogs, I can say little ill about the food, including the downtown casual BC Restaurant near the Armory, Arad Evans Inn in nearby by Fayetteville, and especially the local farmer’s market, which puts Central Texas versions to shame — shed after shed of, this time of year, blueberries, cherries, beans, greens, Amish bread, New York cheeses, Greek yogurts, even early apples, tomatoes and root vegetables.
Thank goodness for the jogging, or this short teaching gig would put on the pounds! This afternoon, we are off to Cooperstown, the museum there and more dining, then my first visit to Glimmerglass Opera.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Blog, blog, blog
Media: This is the class I’m teaching today at Syracuse University. Very bright arts journalists in the Goldring Program in the Newhouse School.
What should aspiring journalists know about blogging? Do it.
Blog every day, and, if possible, more than once a day.
Let’s see who figures it out first.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Once a year meal
Food & Drink:We only do this kind of thing for anniversaries or birthdays, but indulging in the tasting menu at a five-star restaurant like the Driskill Grill is sex for foodies.
Tuesday, for somebody’s 43rd — not mine, I’m
We started out with a bottle of J. Albin Laurel Vineyard Willamette Valley Pinot Noir. Ever since “Sideways,” we’ve avoided Noirs, knowing that they rocketed in popularity and price because of that gentle, wise movie. The Albin was — surprise! — one of the most reasonably priced selections on the menu, and it could not have been more lively or satisfying. (We followed with a competing Penner-Ash Oregon Syrah.)
Every course on the tasting menu combined multiple ingredients with tiny, colorful accents on the sides, presented on white, steep-edged dishes that enclosed little theatrical moments every time they arrived. It would take pages to describe each one, but the almost liquid beef short ribs, roasted for 72 hours, climaxed a meal that compounded sensation upon sensation.
Save it for a special day.
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Culture crumbs
Culture: Steven Tomlinson’s “American Fiesta,” celebrated in Jeanne Claire van Ryzin’s insightful XL cover story, will be performed for supporters of Out Youth, Aug. 1 at the McCullough Theatre. For more information e-mail outyouthbenefit@abporter.org.
Pebbles Wadsworth, director of the UT Performing Arts Center is credited with cementing the relationship of movie directors Valerie Faris and Jonathan Dayton — recently of “Little Mary Sunshine” — in a New York Times article.
Ann Rostow, perhaps Austin’s most elegant voice on gay and lesbian issues in Austin, speaks out on the constitutional issues surrounding gay marriage in today’s Statesman.
The rundown on “Project Runway” dirt, including “Sketchgate,” with accusations that Keith snitched some of his designs, can be found at the delectable Blogging Project Runway. Robin Ghivan’s recap of Episode 1 also brightens up the pages of The Washington Post.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Critiquing the Blanton collection
Art: What makes a masterpiece? The question stings just now because film critic and blogger extraordinaire Chris Garcia writes, of his first visit to the Blanton Museum of Art: “I have a niggling suspicion that the Blanton is in possession of not one masterpiece.”
“Patrick ,” Oliver Herring
Let’s review various definitions of “masterpiece” to see if the Blanton is in the running.
A work of art universally acknowledged as possessing lasting value: Here the Blanton cannot compete, because the collection is, in historical terms, very young, and, for the general public, almost unknown. Both the Steinberg and the Suida-Manning collections have been published, but they were held in private hands for decades, even centuries. So you are not going to see recognizable works at MLK and Congress, as you might at the Uffizi in Florence, which is clotted with the short answers to art history survey quizzes. The only museums in the United States that contend in this category are New York’s Met, Modern and Frick, D.C.’s National, Phillips and Corcoran, the Chicago Institute and a few others that made an early start collecting during the 19th and early 20th centuries.
“Missão/ Missões (How to Build Cathedrals),” Cildo Meireles
A work of art that represents the highest quality of its kind: The Blanton holds a strong suit on this count, but one must know the genre, or express some curiosity to a expert willing to explain (the Blanton employs three excellent head curators). Because the current collection came from a few major donors, it’s heavy on Italian Baroque, 20th-century Latin and American art, and, strategies still alien to many art lovers — prints and drawings. The Blanton owns superb examples from all of the above, and tourists who are particularly interested in those genres flock to Austin to experience the top of the line.
“Las Rinde el Sueño (Sleep Overcomes Them),” plate 34, from “Los Caprichos,” Francisco José de Goya y Lucientes
A work of art that combines craft and creativity to transcend the standards for similar examples: One can find this definition of masterpiece on almost every wall. Work for work, image for image, I’d put the collection up against anything in the larger Dallas or Houston museums, which I’ve explored over the course of decades. It is not a cherry-picked collection, like the Kimbell, nor does it share the exquisite density of the Menil, but the Blanton offers endless small treasures, if one spends time with the collection — and explores why the art ended up on the walls.
“Cleopatra,” Donato Creti
Another word: The Blanton is a teaching museum. Its works are collected and arranged to show the relationships among genres, periods, materials and techniques. The museum has wisely opened its doors to the public, but it will always disappoint those looking for the charismatic knock-out blows of blockbuster exhibits showcasing widely familiar artists.
“New York at Night,” Max Weber
This fall, the Blanton will unveil a comprehensive exhibit — the first ever — about Italian painter Luca Cambiaso. Important as he was, Cambiaso probably didn’t make your average survey of Western art. But that’s the joy of an institution like the Blanton. Almost surely, we will be treated to rooms of masterpieces, but not ones already condensed into convenient packages by the art history industrial complex.
“Madonna and Child with the Young Saint John the Baptist,” Luca Cambiaso
Thanks to Chris — never shy about sharing his opinions — for starting the conversation.
Permalink | Comments (4) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Snappy little purses
Fashion: Picked out purses today. Or rather, picked up purses at three Austin boutiques for a Glossy photo shoot.
Now, for those acculturated to my years reporting on headier things — books, operas, plays — this purse thing might seem out of character. (An equal number of readers are befuddled by my genuine enthusiasm for sports.)
Yet, for the summer, at least, our upscale mag, Glossy, is part of my editing beat, and our choice for the first theme: “The least we could do: In this heat, don’t move.” So cool, white things. Small things. Minimal things. So, wait for it: Tiny purses.
Styling along to “The Best of Sterolab,” in our distinctly unfashionable Chevy Malibu, I stopped by three shops.
Estilo: Blessed with the vibiest vibe during the past season, this Second Street District contemporary casual shop feels friendly for such an upscale place. Clothes string out in angles. The men’s wear is clearly chosen for slender guys who can wear tapered cuts and lots a stripes. Yet, when I asked co-owner Cami Cobb about the absence of XL sizes, she kindly demurred: “Oh, it’s because we sell them out so quickly.” Nice save.
Shiki: Visited the store at the 3400 Guadalupe St. location. Fewer fabrics, more space. Eastern-looking jewelry. No men’s wear. This would be a good place for a UT co-ed to splurge on one exotic piece.
Francesca’s Collections: The Bee Cave Road edition of this shop, packed with accessories and blonde clerks, bustled on a hot afternoon. Again no men’s wear that I could spy, but lots of eye-catching jangly thangs. I might shop there for a gift and not just for a college-aged woman.
Permalink | Comments (2) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Bits o’ food
Food & Drink Feeding a brigade? We did recently when the Kellers and Barneses converged. We recommend:
PoKeJo’s Smokehouse, Inc. Deeply smoked meat, spikey barbecue sauce, mustardy potato salad, creamy cole slaw, well … you get it. It comes with tea, plates, serving ware, peppers, onions, (OK) cookies, all for about $12 a person if you pick up the catering yourself. And we gorged on a week’s worth of leftovers.
Margaritas To Go Delivered right to your party (try not to have more than three steps to the landing place; these machines are heavy). Takes about an hour or so to churn out perfect, tart, frozen margaritas — you choose to add the tequila. Warning: Don’t order two flavors, unless you order two machines. Messy. Everything else about the service is worth recommending.
While on the subject of inexpensive entertaining, whenever a friend arrives in town and we need a special treat, cheap and convenient, we trundle down to Garibaldi’s on South Congress just below Ben White Boulevard. The interior Mexican food vibrates with flavors, but without the pretense or prices you might find elsewhere when the word “interior” is used. And this strip-center haven is hardly ever overcrowded.
Add to that Zax: Pints and Plates on Barton Springs Road, which I had dismissed unfairly as a kind of happy-hour place. Their lunches are fresh and creative. I recently ordered a plump salad Niciose with just the right complements of olives, tomatoes and seasoning. The space, kind of dumpy from the outside, is airy and friendly inside. I’ll remember that.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Camp, not camp
Movies: Back to back, we watched two of the most influential movies of my youth, both now available on handsomely packaged DVDs. “Ryan’s Daughter” is earnest, gorgeous and sexy. “Valley of the Dolls” is camp, pretty and sexy.
The first is director David Lean’s final installment in an unacknowledged trilogy that included “Lawrence of Arabia” and “Dr. Zhivago,” which portrayed flawed, romantic characters against the backdrop of early 20th-century wars (the Arab Uprising, the Russian Revolution and the Irish Troubles).
“Ryan’s Daughter” was, critically and popularly, the least successful of the three, even though screenwriter Robert Bolt goes to great lengths to incorporate novelistic themes about loyalty, adultery and the deadening morality of small places, in this case, a tiny village on the west coast of Ireland.
As a 16-year-old, I identified with all the major players — yearning, sensitive Rosie; kind, tacitern schoolteacher Charles; the alienated, detached Major Doryan; and even moon child Michael, the role that won John Mills a Best Supporting Actor Oscar. Lean’s vast canvas does not shrink well to the small screen here, more so than in “Lawrence” or “Zhivago,” which grow organically out of forceful historical narratives.
Still, it’s a crushingly beautiful film and will likely be the first item to screen when, sometime in 2007, we finally purchase a widescreen television.
“Valley of the Dolls” I’ve already touted. The extras and featurettes on this DVD confirm or deny some of the backstories about the trashy adaptation of Jacqueline Susann’s trashy, immensely popular novel about booze, pills and sex among Broadway and Hollywood stars.
What interested me the most were all the acknowledgements why gay audiences embraced it, as I did, even as a teen, before I had ever heard of camp. I
But how did I know that as a teen, with minimal exposure to what has come to be called “gay culture”? The interviews that accompany this version try to ascertain why, and, if the subject interests you, rent or purchase it.
Here’s the trivia quiz that went along with my 1997 Statesman story on “Dolls” and camp, which, at the time, people called “the gayest thing every published in our newspaper.”
Valley of the Dolls Trivia Quiz
- “You’ve got to climb —— to reach the Valley of the Dolls”
a. every mountain
b. Sharon Tate
c. Mount Everest
- What does Neely (Patty Duke) take to survive the training/rehearsal montage?
a. the A train
b. hot Dr Pepper with lemon
c. lots of “dolls,” i.e., amphetamines and barbiturates
- Whose career was not ruined by — or soon after — the making of “V.O.D.?”
a. Patty Duke (OK, so 20 years later, she rebounded)
b. Sharon Tate (Manson’s gang murdered the beauty)
c. Barbara Parkins (frankly, she never had a career, other than TV’s “Peyton Place”)
- Which future Academy Award winner appears in a “V.O.D” bit part?
a. Ben Kingsley as the pool cleaner
b. George C. Scott as a drug pusher in drag
c. Richard Dreyfuss as a stagehand at Neely’s disastrous “comeback”
- This is onstage while Helen (Susan Hayward) sings “I’ll Plant My Own Tree.”
a. a stately oak
b. a throbbing acorn
c. a giant, plastic mobile that defies the laws of physics
- Demure Ann, played by Barbara Parkins, becomes ——.
a. “the It Girl”
b. “That Girl”
c. “the Gillian Girl,” patterned after “the Breck Girl”
- Where do we hear a maudlin performance of “Come Live With Me,” one of several camp classics composed by Dory and Andre Previn for this film?
a. a women’s restroom, crooned to Helen’s flushed wig
b. on the beach, with surf rushing through Ann’s hair
c. a sanitarium that serves both a mortally ill singer and Neely in rehab
- What does Jennifer (Sharon Tate) do to please her mother?
a. bust exercises
b. send homethe profits from her French “art” films
c. both a and b
- What sound effect is heard when Neely, in a climactic alley scene, screeches “Neeeelyyyy O’haaaaraaaa!!!!”?
a. Munchkins giggling
b. the sound of two hands clapping
c. church bells
- What do critics call the “V.O.D.” for the ’90s?
a. “Jacqueline Susann’s Valley of the Dolls” (1981 television movie)
b. any USA Channel made-for-cable movie
c. “Showgirls” (“I’m a dancer!”)
(The answer to all the above questions is “C.”)
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Long Center soiree
Parties: I’ve witnessed Cliff Redd’s PowerPoint presentation on the Long Center for the Performing Arts, oh, a thousand times. The dog-and-pony-show show gets better and better, and Redd’s campaign is down to the last 10 percent of the dollars required for design, construction and endowment.
Bettie Naylor, Dennis Karbach and Libby Sykora.
Thursday’s Long Center party for gay and lesbian supporters outdid most past fundraisers, partly because it was held in the four-story Congress Avenue townhouse of Robert Brown and Dennis Karbach. This clean-lined wonder, designed by visionary Tim Cuppett, takes what Eddie Safady did two doors down to a 19th-century brick structure, and stretched it up four stories, each more enticing and elegant than the one below it — with a sweet lawn, pool and spa on top.
An Affair to Remember did the catering — compact, intense finger food — and decked-out Hedda Layne provided the entertainment. We spent a good 90 minutes chatting with the handsome, smartly casual crowd before heading out for the theater. There was much talk of same-gender couples sponsoring chunks of the center.
Todd Dellinger and Stephen Moser.
Ken Stein, Ken Lambrecht and Stuart Moulton.
Bill Vandersteel and James Armstrong.
Ted Smith and Wayne Bell.
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Robert Faires, actor
Theater: Honestly, we are not trying to pump up the Austin Chronicle staff in Out, but here’s another timely observation: Chron arts editor Robert Faires is an actor.
Scotty Roberts and Robert Faires in “In On It”
Oh, he’s been on the Austin stage since 1980, but in the past, he tended to “present” his characters, as if part of his consciousness observed the action.
Beginning with his smooth ensemble work in “The Compete Works of Shakespeare (Abridged),” Faires has relaxed inside this characters’ skins. Now, co-starring with the reliable and amiable Scotty Roberts in Daniel MacIvor’s “In On It,” Faires transcends previous performances; he really seems to live each scene of flirtation, argument, wonder, etc.
Frankly — and this comes with age for some actors — Faires could work in any medium in any market right now. We’ve joked for a long time about how he and wife, Barbara Chisholm, are Austin’s Lunt and Fontanne, but now they are both playing at the top of their games.
This complicates Faires role as a journalist, but not mine. Were this a formal review, I wouldn’t go on and on about his performance, but the blog format frees me up to state the obvious: Already an accomplished writer, editor and director, Faires can now firmly attach the appellation “actor” to his name.
Let’s toast Lowell Bartholomee of the Dirigo Group for producing this play about two participants in a car crash, which we first saw during the performance art festival at the University of Texas a few years ago.
Permalink | Comments (3) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
‘Valley of the Dolls’ madness!
Media + Movies Stephen Moser — item-maker for two Out blogs in a row — has published the flaming scoop of the week in the otherwise rather gray Austin Chronicle.
“Valley of the Dolls” is out on an expanded DVD. If Stephen’s seen it 9 million times, I’ve seen it 10 million — and recite every line. In days past, I’d perform the “Neely in Shubert Alley” scene at every party, in every dive I visited. “Where is everbody? Everybody?”
Moser the Magnificent: “At long last, after years of waiting, I have the incredible new DVD of the greatest movie ever made — Valley of the Dolls. As I’ve seen the movie 9,000,000 times, it wasn’t the actual film I was waiting for -– it was all the delicious extras that come along with it. If you’re a fan, prepare to die. Watch as we see Barbara Parkins’ screen test for the role of Anne. Wait until you see Rona Jaffe’s eye make-up during an interview (and don’t miss Monique Van Vooren’s eye make-up, which is so heavy that she can’t open her eyes all the way). Wail as you are subjected to an endless documentary on Jacqueline Susann from the Sixties. And worship as you hear Tony Scotti sing the theme song. Faaabulous.”
Permalink | Comments (2) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Rushing into ‘Project Runway’
Fashion + TV: Of course, we were crushed that Austin’s own Stephen Moser was not selected for Season 3 of “Project Runway,” though we did glimpse his regal entrance during the run-up segment last night on Bravo.
That aside, I watched the season opening marathon with a first-timer’s curiosity and fascination. I may be hooked (thanks Sarah! I think.).
The cast of “Project Runway: Season 3.”
Based on the first contest, which involved using materials from the designers’ own apartments, the judges got it right. The three voted worst were, very much, the three worst. And the three best were among the three best.
Stacey: Needed to go — and did. Smart, nice woman. Weak designer. Worse constructor. “Messy” hit it on the head.
Vincent: Hate him, even though I should root for someone near my age bracket. Full of himself. The hat was goofy. Could see him go soon.
Jeffrey: Glad to see him humiliated. His dress was all over the place. Ugly, actually. “Forward-thinking” my bustle.
Malan. Pretentious. His voice grates on my nerves. “I want to beat him with a stick until he dies,” says wise Karen. “Is that the fakest Eurotrash accent you’ve ever heard?” Stubbly jacket was neat, though.
Angela. A little self-consciously outsider. Surprisingly sharp design. She could go far.
Kayne. Fun. And the top, made from a bathmat, worked. But the rest sort of disappeared.
Katherine. Sporty. Don’t think she will last long, but she used the shiny material with elan — on a bias.
Alsion. Sweet. Gorgeous young woman. Hope her designs improve. First one too gathered.
Bradley. I like him. But his comforter dress left me cold. The under-carpet wrap made it happen.
Keith: Arrogant. But good. Accessorizes well. OK that he won the first round, despite his bad manners. The “Gone with the Wind” and “The Carol Burnet Show” references won me over, too.
Uli. No nonsense. Professional. Her dress was classy.
Michael. The most real of the contestants. And his coffee-filter dress was inspired. He could win it all if he matches his debut.
Laura: Mature, chic. Showy. Her fake-fur coat filled the runway. Great use of mirrors and metal leaves. “Noisy,” but amazing for an improvisation. Can she keep it up?
Robert: My favorite. Dry. Funny. Channels classic modernism (formerly for Barbie) with a deft touch. Let’s hope the judges don’t require an over-the-top character or bizarre designs from this frontrunner.
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New look blog
Media: Wait! What happened? Did we change the banner on Out & About? Why?
Clever of you to notice.
The original look and motto fit the blog’s focus a year ago. Now — 400 posts later — my subjects migrate from politics to business, sports to entertainment, partly because of my editorial job description in the newsroom changed to include all features subjects. (The beat just grows and grows.)
Don’t fret. We’ll still update news of interest to gay readers, as well as tales of city told through that perspective.
But expect posts on anything remotely related to living in Austin in the 21st century.
Permalink | Comments (1) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Playing with words
Movies: It’s official: Modern documentarians can make any subject watchable. In “Wordplay,” it’s puzzlers or solvers or whatever they call people addicted to crossword puzzles.
New York Times crossword editor Will Shortz in “Wordplay.”
The moviemakers employ some of the same techniques perfected in “Spellbound” — which makes stars of spelling bee contestants — following around the leading contenders, editing the tournament footage to ratchet up the suspense.
Yet they also secured animated interviews with crossword enthusiasts Jon Stewart, Bill Clinton, the Indigo Girls and others. These segments tended to be more memorable than the extended profiles of the nerdy contestants. Puzzle constructor Merle Reagle added a witty, world-weary touch to the movie.
The doc’s central figure, New York Times crossword editor Will Shortz, turns out a rather bland protagonist, seemingly well adjusted to his obsession. Anyway, it’s a cute movie, yet one that can wait for the DVD issue.
Three stars
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Sitting with Andy Crouch
Comedy: He’s funny, in person, across a Progress Coffee cafe table, grinning through his serious beard, but in a unassuming way. He’s also brainy, more entrepreneurial, managerial and verbal than theatrical.
Andy Crouch at Progress Coffee.
Andy Crouch oversees The Hideout for owner Sean Hill. He also foremans the Austin Improv Collective, which lassoes the city’s disparate improvisational troupes into one big comedy corral.
Summer is a slow time for improv in Austin. (It’s tooo hot!) Still, seven or eight different shows play The Hideout each weekend. We’ve been very bad about keeping up with them, but promise to track them more carefully in the future.
Andy Crouch at Progress Coffee.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Flamenco recap
Dance: Like steel filings to a magnet, flamenco artists gravitated toward Austin during the 1990s. Maria Benitez, Jose Greco and his son, Jose Greco II, along with their troupes, made frequent, lingering visits, helping to promote an amateur company, Flamenco Austin, as well.
Those days are long gone. Yet One World Theatre, as it does with other near-lost art forms — jazz, certain kinds of world music — reminds us of Austin’s flamenco glory days by importing top artists from time to time.
Last night, Noche Flamenca, the Madrid-based touring group in a seven-member configuration, landed at the One World stage. And what a night it was.
Soledad Barrio, photo: Noche Flamenca
The guitarists thrummed their instruments like scented lovers, transporting the audience to distant tiled courtyards, cool under the stars. The singers reached deep into their chests to retrieve razored emotions, competing with each other as if shouting from topless towers.
The troupe’s star attraction is Soledad Barrio, a lithe dancer whose upper body movements and hand gestures form as many arabesques as any classical Indian dancer. She used the kick-stomp with particular effectiveness and swished her restrained dresses with discreet style. Barrio’s energy seemed to rise from an almost animal level of passion, but her moves were never less than refined.
Juan Ogalla — not a core company member — proved the surprise of the evening. Tall-ish, blue-eyed, wet-maned, slightly worn by time, he betrayed only the slightest charisma during his opening moves, but eventually produced a thunderstorm of explosive boot-work and off-balance jumps, eliciting a sustained ovation from the aroused audience.
We may see less flamenco in Austin these days, but who can complain when we are treated to troupes such as Noche Flamenca?
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Bald is good
Sports: Despite his head-butting of an Italian player, shiny-topped Zinedine Zidane was voted most valuable player in the World Cup finals. Credit, partly, the French player’s aura of stern manliness in a boyish sport.
Zinedine Zidane with Jacqques Chirac; photo: Patrick Kovarick AP
(For boyish behavior, recall the antics of the winning Italian team during the trophy presentation ceremony.)
Not that I endorse Zidane’s attack, which glue-for-brains Brent Musburger dubbed “viscious” about a million times. (Once, “viscious, viscious.”) It was a bizarre breakdown in what is usually a beautiful sport. And the referees had been pretty tolerant of diva tumbles earlier in the match, which may have contributed to Zidane’s inexcusable act.
But, man, is this a good time to be bald — or shaved, or crewed — or what? I bless popular culture every day that my own close crop has remained somewhat fashionable for, oh, the last 10 to 15 years. It’s cheap, too, to maintain.
Now it’s time for Italy to party. They deserve it, although I would have been content if either team won.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Helen Thomas saluted
Politics + Parties “This party has a problem … it’s too successful,” crowed Liz Carpenter, as a nest of friends, journalists and Democrats spilled over the terrace of her modest West Lake Hills home, grazing on homespun refreshments. All were there to shake hands with battle-hardened White House press corps veteran Helen Thomas, in town for book signings and speeches.
“I think (Americans) are coming out of their coma,” said Thomas, whose book, “Watchdogs of Democracy?” accuses the press and public of sitting on their hands while the Bush administration waged war. “I have total faith in America and total faith in democracy.”
Lady Bird Johnson and Helen Thomas; Brian K. Diggs photo
Former first lady Lady Bird Johnson sang along with daughters Luci Johnson and Lynda Johnson Robb to tunes from sway-haired troubadour Steve Brooks, who strummed out “I Am a Texas Democrat” and “BushWhacked.” More or less joining in were Great Society celebrities and others such as Elspeth Rostow, Harry Middleton, Betty Sue Flowers, Frances Nail, Henrietta Jacobsen and Sue McBee.
Henrietta Jacobsen, Helen Thomas and Liz Carpenter; Brian K. Diggs photo
Jim Hightower saluted whip-cracking reception organizer Carpenter, who served as press secretary for Lady Bird and has known fellow journalist Thomas since 1942: “We have a saying in Texas: The rooster crows but the hen delivers the goods. That’s Liz.”
Permalink | Comments (2) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
News with chews
Food + Drink + News Meeting someone for lunch or drinks or coffee is only partly about what’s on the table. The reasons for the conversation are usually multiple and can, sometimes, shake loose some news.
For lunch, I met University of Texas Performing Arts Center administrative veteran J.B. Tuttle, who happily is following a serious girlfriend out to Albuquerque, N.M. to study for his MBA. We swapped East Texas (he’s from Tyler) and New Mexico stories, but he also told me something I didn’t know about the PAC — that Hogg Auditorium will close for renovations the same time that Bass Concert Hall does.
Update July 12: In telling me that Hogg would close, J.B. was sharing what he thought everyone knew, including myself. Certainly, everyone on the PAC staff knew it, and, according to J.B., nobody was warned to keep it from the public or the press. (It didn’t seem like big news to me when he told me.)
Hold the phone: I received communications today from PAC director Pebbles Wadsworth and PR director Brette Lea asking, emphatically, for a chance to clarify this information. So, I have deleted part of my — emphasis — conclusions about what this closing might mean on this post. I hope that we can tell the complete story soon, and, if anything, were inaccurate in my reading of the situation. I will correct it immediately.
And I hope J.B. will not suffer any recriminations from the PAC leadership for sharing what he thought was general knowledge. That would be dishonorable of that worthy arts organization and of his long service there.
J.B. Tuttle at Gene’s
I met understated power couple Richard May and Kelli Montgomery at Sherlock’s, the English-style pub at Burnet Road and Research Boulevard. A bit overdecorated, Sherlock’s seems like an amiable enough place, with games and pool and a small stage. The crowd at 6 p.m. on a Thursday was perky, after-workish, without being raucous, even when the background music was cranked up.
Kelli dropped some news about the exchanges the Austin Visual Arts Association is making with Danish and Czech artists, and the local exhibitions at something called the International Center of Austin.
Richard, a lobbyist, confirmed my suspicion that the cultural projects on the City of Austin’s November bond ballot have been hung out to dry by politicians, meaning that they were added to the ballot for window dressing, but nobody is actively campaigning for Zachary Scott Theatre, the Mexican American Cultural Center, Asian American Center and so forth.
Sharpies such as Ann Ciccolella and Sylvia Orozco are good at pressing buttons at City Hall, but if they think voters will approve millions for such projects, sight unseen, they haven’t been studying local history very closely. Unless the groups affected get their acts together — and act together, quickly — it looks like a bloody season for the arts.
A third unhurried meeting, this one with XL Fortunate 500 maven Karen Odom Spezia, took me to Six for the first time. That’s the tri-level club at Fourth and Colorado streets with a spacious lobby bar, dark, narrow mezzanine and airy rooftop. Very classy spot (Lance Armstrong is an investor). It was too humid on the roof, so we nursed refreshing gimlets and Tito’s ‘n’ tonics in the cool gloom of the main bar.
We chatted at length about the Texas Hill Country Food and Wine Festival. Nothing on the record, for you busy bodies. But, man, does the premier Austin food event come with a twisty, turny history. Someday, somebody will tell all.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Send back the grooms
The Gay Life: This morning, Kip and I are still married in just one North American country and one of the 50 United States. The New York’s highest court handed the contentious issue of gay marriage off to the state legislature, citing various legal and social traditions.
Altweb.com
That leaves the decision up to the people and their representatives. Which is, I think, a good place to be in years to come. I sense a bitter backlash, especially among young people, against the anti-gay-marriage crowd. It may take a while longer, but social change at the legal level always lasts longer when it is accomplished through representative government.
“We do not predict what people will think generations from now, but we believe the present generation should have a chance to decide the issue through its elected representatives,” Judge Robert Smith wrote.
Hours later, the Georgia Supreme Court reinstated its state’s gay marriage ban
Meanwhile, Canada and Massachusetts will have to do. Feel free to disagree.
Permalink | Comments (3) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
East Texas trap
Travel: I feel like a traitor to my birthplace complaining that Kilgore might not be the best home for the Texas Shakespeare Festival. Let’s calmly examine its viability as a cultural mecca.
Kilgore Rangerettes at the Cotton Bowl
Many North American summer arts festivals were planted in refreshing, attractive locations, such as Santa Fe, Aspen, Ashland, Sundance. Others are located near big markets — Ravinia, Wolf Trap, Stratford, the Berkshires, etc. Kilgore is surrounded by relatively picturesque pine forests, but, since the 1930s, it’s been an oil patch, with attendant industrial waste, and few nearby parks or lakes offer outdoor breaks from the festival, even if one were to brave the palpable humidity.
Another way to draw tourists to a cultural magnet is through the stomach. Niagara-on-the-Lake, Santa Fe and festivals in Northern California benefit from superb restaurants and local wines. Shopping also occupies the off-hours of arts pilgrims. Kilgore has not a single fine-dining establishment — the Olive Garden in nearby Longview pretty much tops out the high-end dining, while that city’s tame mall begins and ends the shopping options.
Kilgore is home to just 13,000 people. It was — and is again — an oil town. Which means some residual multigenerational wealth could support the festival, and it does, but not enough. Some 200,000 people live within easy driving distance, but this is East Texas and, with all due respect, there’s not much education about — or reinforcement for — even something as culturally conservative as a Shakespeare festival.
So what else can one do in Kilgore and environs?
One can sample excellent casual dining spots, such as Bodacious Barbecue at Texas 42 and Interstate 20, as authentic as one could wish for seeking hot links, chopped beef, ribs, sausages, etc., with generous sides and traditional drinks.
The Back Porch crouches near the Kilgore College campus, serving juicy hamburgers and tasty sides (nothing here is very spicy). It’s like Dirty’s, East Texas-style.
Also near the campus, distinguishing itself from the clutter of chain eateries on U.S. 259, is El Sombrero. We dropped in because of its kitschy motto: “Home of the white cheese” (that’s really an attraction?). Turns out it serves creative Mexican food, including various iterations of grilled shrimp in (again) not-too-spicy dishes.
The big disappointment was the Kilgore Cafe, a diner formerly known as the Hot Bisquit, whose buffet was about as lame and soggy as any I’ve suffered through on any American freeway. Still, the after-church crowd could be overheard chewing over the nasty small-town gossip (“She still a pretty girl, but she’s put on some weight,” an observation that could be applied to any Kilgore resident over the age of 21).
The Rangerette Museum, which, if in Kilgore, is a must-attend, was closed during this visit, as was the East Texas Oil Museum, at least both times we dropped by. The first is over-serious and therefore funny, the second historically respectable and worth a half hour of distraction.
The real draw is the New London Museum, south of Kilgore in the town where, in 1937, the junior/senior high school exploded in a natural gas accident that killed hundreds of students and teachers. The disaster deeply impressed my parents’ generation, and led to the addition of the now-familiar odor to natural gas. The museum is thorough, heartfelt and clearly explained. It’s among the finest small-town historical museums in the state.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
Lone Star bard
Theater: A few years ago, we crawled out on a critical limb to judge the Texas Shakespeare Festival, based in Kilgore, “indisputably” the best in the state.
Is that still the case? From the evidence of four productions — “Coriolanus,” “The School for Husbands,” “Pericles” and “Harvey” — the festival continues to produce respectable, if flawed theater with more variety and density than any other Bardfest in the state.
Arthur Lazalde as Aufidius in “Coriolanus”; photo: John Dodds
Founder and artistic director Raymond Caldwell greeted the festival’s third decade — bravely if perhaps recklessly — with two lesser Shakespeares, a minor Moliere and an old-fashioned American comedy (a children’s show, “The Monkey King,” joins the repertory soon). Not coincidentally, attendance is down and people are talking, once again, about moving the outfit to a more populous East Texas burg. (More in a later blog about the strengths and weaknesses of Kilgore as a cultural magnet.)
Two of the four shows merit the 10-hour round-trip drive from Austin:
“Coriolanus”: This version of the tragedy about the downfall of a proud Roman general compares favorably to the rendition we caught two weeks ago at the Stratford Festival of Canada, which is saying something, if one considers the larger company enjoys an annual budget 100 times that of the smaller one (more than $50 million vs. less than $500,000). As in Canada, costumer Joel Ebarb avoided a mass toga party, instead making Shakespeare’s Roman and Volscian warriors look like particularly butch ballet dancers, while director Gregg W. Brevoort kept the action briskly cogent. In the title role, a tightly wound Mic Matarrese spoke with sharp intelligence, and, when called for, sexual ambiguity, especially interacting with the glitteringly martial Arthur Lazalde as his counterpart Aufidius. Playing Coriolanus’ bloodthirsty mother, Ellen Karsten behaved every bit like a noble Roman matron, but failed to move us in her crucial climactic speech. (In a stroke of casual brilliance, David M. Holmes, Nathan Kaufman and Thomas Meaney played Volscian servingmen as snippy barbacks.)
“The School for Husbands”: Brisk, bright, brief, this Moliere play about how to handle a woman falls between the conventions of late commedia and the elevated moral debates of the 17th-century French writer’s most penetrating plays. Once again, the fanciful costumes set the tone — scenery at TSF tends to be utilitarian, but in a classy way — and director Roseann Sheridan balanced pointed word with poised action. The triumvirate at the core of the comedy — a Debra Messing-like Heidi-Marie Ferren, a fool-with-humanity Mark D. Hines and a hilariously girly Andre Marin — hit the notes with delicious precision.
Cast of “School for Husbands”; photo: John Dodds
Two should be avoided, except as curiosities:
“Pericles”: Sometimes this epic romance about the Prince of Tyre dragging his way from sadness to sadness in the Eastern Mediterranean plays as if 12 different writers assembled it during a party game. Costumer Steven F. Graver plied a fabric shop of Orientalist styles and director Stephen Terrell tried hard to establish a coherent story, but he was undermined, especially, by John Knauss as an androgynous Pericles, interpreting him through a sort of existential mist. Scenes were elevated or anchored by Kelsey J. Nash, William Elsman and Scott Shattuck (meaningless disclosure: Scott is a friend of long standing).
“Harvey”: Faulty pacing doomed what should have been the popular favorite of the festival, Mary Chase’s near-screwball comedy about a man who befriends an invisible, six-foot rabbit. Oh, quiet, pleasant, unflappable David M. Holmes elicited tolerant smiles as Elwood P. Dowd, a role made indelible in the movie version by Jimmy Stewart. But the rest of the cast seemed always a step ahead or behind the laugh lines, making a formula feel-gooder into a stage version of a wet noodle. As usual, comedy is harder than it looks.
Permalink | Comments (2) | Categories: By Michael Barnes
On the Trail
Art + Recreation: A week ago, we stumbled on the celebration of the life and work of late artist Tre Arenz at a gentle curve in the Town Lake Hike and Bike Trail. Organized, in part, by architect Emily Little and veteran art dealer Camille Lyons, the event included stickers decorated with images of Arenz, a bagpipe player and refreshments, all arranged around a festive, studded retaining wall and human/canine water fountain east of the South First bridge and north of the river.
The event also brought attention to the Animal Adoption and Rescue Foundation.
That’s Nick and Nora with the sweaty blogger; photo: Emily Little
Here’s a wish for downtown Austin: More public water fountains for dogs and their human companions. The Trail is marked with four or more, but the downtown grid, which leaders hope to make more hospitable for pedestrians, offers exactly one — the Granite Fountain on the Capitol grounds. (Unless there’s one I’ve missed in 20 years of criss-crossing downtown.) People and their pets need frequent hydration on their perambulations — civic planners take note.
Permalink | | Categories: By Michael Barnes
