Austin360 blogs > Out & About > Archives > 2008 > November
November 2008
Open-Source Reporting: Club Micro-Hoods: UT Campus
For the December XL Bar Guide, we attempt to identify 14 Austin club micro-hoods. Well, actually nine downtown micro-hoods, then five larger regions outside the central business district.
Why open-source reporting? Because you can contribute to our knowledge of which bars and clubs have opened or closed in the last year. We depend on you. Note: Restaurants are included if their bars attract a separate social scene.
Most large universities are associated with entertainment and shopping districts located near campus. The University of Texas comes with just such a retail zone, an ever-evolving strip along Guadalupe Street called the Drag. Thing is, students head downtown for their club-related socializing. And the Drag is left with very little in the way of club or bar life. Still, there’s a weak associative attraction among the hangouts on this list, some more attuned to a (much) older crowd, some not even close to the Drag. (One could even argue that the Manor Street restaurant/bars belong here.)
Charlie’s. 1301 Lavaca St. 474-6481
Crown & Anchor. 2911 San Jacinto Blvd. 322-9168
The Dog & Duck Pub. 406 W. 17th St. 479-0598
Fino. 2905 San Gabriel St. 474-2905
Hole in the Wall. 2538 Guadalupe St. 477-4747
Mansion on Judge’s Hill. 1900 Rio Grande St. 495-1800
Nasty’s Bar. 606 Maiden Lane. 453-4349
Posse East Bar & Grill. 2900 Duval St. 477-2111
Spider House Patio Bar & Cafe. 2908 Fruth St. 480-9562
Scholz Garten. 1607 San Jacinto Blvd. 474-1958.
Texas Chili Parlor. 1409 Lavaca St. 472-2828.
Trudy’s Texas Star. 409 W. 30th St. 477-2935
Vino Vino. 4119 Guadalupe St. 465-9282
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Open-Source Reporting: Club Micro-Hoods: East Seventh Street
For the December XL Bar Guide, we attempt to identify 14 Austin club micro-hoods. Well, actually nine downtown micro-hoods, then five larger regions outside the central business district.
Why open-source reporting? Because you can contribute to our knowledge of which bars and clubs have opened or closed in the last year. We depend on you. Note: Restaurants are included if their bars attract a separate social scene.
East Seventh Street is the lost child of downtown clubbing. Does it belong to East Sixth Street or Red River Street? Has it developed its own distinct culture? For a while, it seemed its western territory was a part-time adjunct to party-party Sixth Street or the downtown business establishment, while the Waller Creek clubs come closer to the funky authenticity of Red River. We’ve noticed more clubsters connecting the Seventh Street dots this year, so we’re calling it a micro-hood.
Black & Tan Seventh Street Lounge. 405 E. Seventh St. 633-9245
Creekside Lounge. 606 E. Seventh St. 480-5988
Driskill Bar & Grill. 604 Brazos St. 391-7162.
Firehouse Lounge. 605 Brazos St. 478-3473
Mike’s Pub. 108 E. Seventh St. 479-6424
MugShots. 407 E. Seventh St. 236-0008.
Red 7. 611 E. Seventh St. 476-8100
Rusty Spur. 403 E. Seventh St. 482-9002
Side Bar. 602 E. Seventh St. 322-0697
Stephen F’s Bar & Terrace. 701 Congress Ave. 457-8800.
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Open-Source Reporting: Club Micro-Hoods: East
For the December XL Bar Guide, we attempt to identify 14 Austin club micro-hoods. Well, actually nine downtown micro-hoods, then five larger regions outside the central business district.
We were tempted to identify a micro-culture on East East Sixth Street, with its mix of Latino bars and hipster lounges. It just hasn’t jelled yet. (Maybe next year, we’ll spin East East Sixth off into a separate list.)
So we’ll have to throw together a mix of Central Austin clubs east of Interstate 35 and call it, for lack of a better word, “East.” This grab bag includes trendy spots to secure a martini, family restaurants with healing margaritas and gravely back lots where gravely bands might play well into the cold night.
ATX Sports Bar. 1504 E. Sixth St. 322-5214
Blue Dahlia Bistro. 1115 E. 11th St. 542-9542
Cafe Mundi 1704 E. Fifth St. 236-8634
Carousel Lounge 1110 E. 52nd St. 452-6790
El Chile Cafe Y Cantina. 1809 Manor Road. 457-9900
Club Carnaval 2237 E Riverside Dr. 444-6396
Club 40 Lounge. 1806 E. 12th St. 472-7238
Club Primos. 1700 E. Sixth St. 457-8310
Dario’s Mexican Restaurant & Cantina. 1800 E. Sixth St. 479-8105
La India Bonita. 1600 E. Sixth St. 220-0819
Iron Gate Lounge. 1111 E. Sixth St. 473-0431
Longbranch Inn. 133 E. 11th St. 472-5591
Nuevo Leon 1501 E. Sixth St. 479-0097
Peacock 515 Pedernales St. 276-8979
Premizie Osteria. 1000 E. 11th St. 235-0088.
Red House Lounge 1917 Manor Road. 391-9501
Rio Rita Lounge 1308 E. Sixth St. 478-3934
Scoot Inn 1308 E. Fourth St. 524-1932
Uncorked. 900 E. Seventh St. 524-2809
Victory Grill. 1104 E. 11th St. 499-8833
La Vida Pura Sports Bar. 1412 E. Sixth St. 473-8226
Shangri-La. 1016 E. Sixth St. 524-4291
Vivo. 2015 Manor Road. 482-0300
White Swan Lounge. 1906 E. 12th St. Phone?
Zocalo. 2003 E. Riverside Dr. 445-6888
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Social sprinklings at ‘Still Fountains’ premiere
Warehouse theaters generally don’t attract top social influencers and connectors to their openings. Yet the premiere of Michael Mitchell’s “Still Fountains” sprinkled representatives from real estate, banking and politics with legates from philanthropy, arts, education, fine dining and media. Of course, it helped that political activist, teacher and social entrepreneur Eugene Sepulveda and playwright, teacher, coach and consultant Steven Tomlinson made their debuts as producers of Mitchell’s two one-act plays.
Douglas Taylor, Michael Mitchell
The pairing of his traditional playlets — in the Tennessee Williams mode — with experimental director Katie Pearl might have proved infelicitous, but the actors raved about her sensitivity to the material and to their growth in the roles. “Highway Home” is a familiar post-funeral family drama, spiked with alcohol and wit, while the tighter, richer “Them” is a classic encounter between two strangers juggling sexuality and morality. Jude Hickey, Gina Houston, Garry Peters and Douglas Taylor gave each character a distinct, authentic voice. Taylor and Hickey, in particular, traded energy and subtext with rare delicacy.
Eugene Sepulveda, Steven Dietz
Almost as interesting was the theater in the Salvage Vanguard Theater lobby before and after the acts. A prominent contingent from the University of Texas playwriting program was present, including back-from-leave Suzan Zeder and red-hot writer Steven Dietz, whose work is all over town. Many of the young artists and techs trained, however, at St. Edward’s University, where undergraduates not only gain more practical experience than at UT, they quickly find productive niches in the Austin arts environment.
Steve Moore, Katie Pearl, Ron Berry
Mitchell, recovering from lymphoma, looked and sounded fantastic. Maybe the creative process and the promise of the premiere aided modern medicine.
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Reborn as Texans at the Waits Farm
What kind of people invite strangers into their homes?
I’m not talking about the lady who asks the wilted salesman into her sitting room for a cool glass of water (in itself, an act of social bravery). Or, on the other end of the investment spectrum, the couple who adopts an errant child for life (soon, they are no longer strangers).
Rather, I’m interested in those who set aside parts of their homes for travelers. The most familiar of these social innkeepers tend those odd, in-between phenomena known as beds and breakfasts. Marsha and Clayton Waits operate, instead, a farm and festival.
The Waits call their rustic spread a land of “never-ending projects and possibilities.” By the dint of their creative energy, they have transformed a pack of utilitarian farm structures into cottages, bunk houses, an art barn and a party barn. These are decorated with Marsha’s idiosyncratic, recycled art projects and surrounded by Clayton’s imaginative, fecund landscaping, which includes an herb garden, koi pond, wedding chapel/shed, two-story performance stage, drum room in an empty metal container, campfires, game lawns and a stone labyrinth. The party barn includes a capacious, if dimly lighted kitchen, cafe seating and tables for poker, pool and shuffleboard. Games and music abound.
It’s the really the Waits, not the party facilities, that make the place. Quiet, perpetually smiling, Clayton vaguely resembles former Texas A&M couch Dennis Franchione in overalls. Intrepid, constantly laughing Marsha stokes social possibilities with a husky voice that could compete with Lauren Becall’s. They never intruded on my family’s privacy — if 25 gregarious people can claim privacy — but they dropped by to build fires, talk Texas and even invite their friends from Sam Houston State University days, Dewitte Lindsey and Johnny Rowling, to perform cover songs in the party barn, a gig that my family at first watched passively, then joined enthusiastically. (Lindsey, whose timbre and note-straddling resembles Johnny Cash’s, really blossomed late in the evening singing show tunes by the campfire.)
One minor, but telling observation: As the holiday progressed, my family’s urban and suburban accents deepened into primal country twangs. This was no dude-ranch transformation, but an honest reaction to the human ecology. I would never advise scratching a Texan, but socially soothe one on the Waits Farm, and native soil blossoms.
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Open-Source Reporting: Club Micro-Hoods: East Second Street
For the December XL Bar Guide, we attempt to identify 14 Austin club micro-hoods. Well, actually nine downtown micro-hoods, then five larger regions outside the central business district.
Why open-source reporting? Because you can contribute to our knowledge of which bars and clubs have opened or closed in the last year. We depend on you. Note: Restaurants are included if their bars attract a separate social scene.
We’re going out on a limb here, since East Second Street is supposed to be connected to West Second Street. But that’s years away, once four or five high-rises have risen. For now, this grouping is primarily for tourists visiting the Austin Convention Center. A few other old faves are mixed into the group. Alas, one of my fervent discoveries of 2007 — the Fuego wine bar — is already history.
The Cedar Door.201 Brazos St. 473-3712
Chain Drive. 504 Willow St. 480-9017
Champions Sports Bar. 300 E. Fourth St. 473-0450
Cockpit.113 San Jacinto Blvd. 457-8010
Copa. 217 Congress Ave. 479-5002
Dona Emilia’s. 101 San Jacinto Blvd. 478-2520
Finn & Porter. 500 E. Fourth St. 493-4900
Fleming’s. 320 E. Second St. 457-1500
Four Seasons Hotel Bar. 98 San Jacinto Blvd. 478-4500
Moonshine Patio Bar & Grill. 303 Red River St. 236-9599
Fogo da Chao. 309 E. Third St. 472-0220
Rio Grande.301 San Jacinto Blvd. 476-8300
Roy’s. 340 E. Second St. 391-1500
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Saturday night the last for Paradox
After 15 years of serving disco, retro ’80s, techno and hip-hop to the masses, Paradox is closing. The East Fifth Street magnet for the 18-and-up crowd will shut its doors with finality on Saturday. The owners still run the Sky Lounge in the Warehouse District/Middle Fifth Street. Don’t know what this means. Hope the few purveyors of dance music stick around.
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Your A-List, Best Place for a Blind Date
Blind dates are trouble. Face it, they hardly ever work. The anticipation is so pressing, the actual date can hardly bear the stress.
The more conventional fun of Hula Hut came in second with 15 percent. The even more sedate Shady Grove made third place with 11 percent, and the extra-laid-back Dart Bowl took fourth with 9 percent, right ahead of the perennial — and slightly camp — favorite Peter Pan Mini-Golf.
Dave and Buster’s, especially lakeside, is an ancient Austin date tradition and earned 8 percent. The B Scene at the Blanton Museum of Art, only a couple years old, offers at classy option with 4 percent. Attracting 3 percent or less were Halcyon, Austin Java, Adult skate night at Playland, Little City and 300 Austin.
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Your A-List, Best Sale
Merrily, two of the biggest sales are on their way. I don’t mean the Black Friday madness, but rather two retail/cultural traditions cherished by Austinites.
The Blue Genie Christmas Bazaar and Armadillo Christmas Bazaar came within one vote of tying for the A-List Best Sale contest — the Genie getting the upper hand. One event is thrown by scruffy artists on the East Side, the other by scruffy — well, more cleaned up these days — artists on the West Side. Each obtained 17 percent of the vote.
The City-Wide Garage Sale, a similar group effort without the holiday requirement, came in third with 15 percent of the tally, while Four Hands warehouse sale cleaned up 10 percent. Le Garage Sale got 8 percent and A Christmas Affair, the tony Junior League fundraiser raised 7 percent.
The Buffalo Exchange sidewalk sale pulled in a respectable 6 percent, just ahead of the Literacy Austin Bookfest. A very targeted retail event, the Service Menswear 50 percent-off sale, earned 4 percent while the Austin Record Convention and Strut’s first-of-the-month sale tied at just over 3 percent. Taking less than that were the Flipnotics sidewalk sale and Austin Books and Comics anniversary sale.
Can you tell what Austin collects?
Write-in: Settlement Home Garage Sale
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Your A-List, Best Radio Station
Despite the onslaught of Internet and satellite radio, locality still matters. People want to hear what Central Texas sounds like. And faux regional identity does not ring true over the terrestrial radio waves.
Also striking a local note is KGSR 107.1. Staying somewhat near the mellower singer/songwriter end of the spectrum, the resonantly Austin station caught 19 percent of the tally.
Write-in 89.9 FM KTSW, Texas State University’s radio station, was third with 14 percent, while 96.7 KISS-FM, with the insurgent Bobby Bones, was fourth with 9 percent. In fifth was Mix 94.7, starring recently profiled J.B. & Sandy, with 8 percent. Slickly trimmed to the local market, 103.5 BOB-FM, reached sixth place with 7 percent.
KVET 98.1 and its country coeval, KASE 100.7, each took close to 5 percent, followed closely by that peregrinating collective, KOOP 91.7.
Taking 3 percent or less were 101X, KLBJ 93.7, KLBJ 590 AM, Hot 93.3, Jammin’ 105.9, ESPN Radio 1260/1530, 102.3 The River, SportsRadio 1300, Majic 95.5, KAZI 88.7, KMFA 89.5, KVRX 91.7, Talk Radio 1370, La Ley 98.9, Digital 92.5, 107.7 Hitz and La Que Buena 104.3.
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Your A-List, Best Buffet
The A-List winner for best buffet this year goes to a relative newcomer, Cannoli Joe’s on U.S. 290 West, which picked up 20 percent of the vote. The aptly named Buffet Palace virtually tied for second place with the Clay Pit and Mr. Gatti’s, each sweeping up approximately 13 percent of the tally.
Two other eateries tied for fifth, Double Dave’s and Mongolian BBQ, each snatching 7 percent. China Star scooped up 5 percent and Taj Palace 4 percent. Taking 3 percent or less were Thai Passion, Alborz, Star of India, Bombay Bistro, Sarovar, Thomas Super Buffet and Madras Pavilion.
Never quite figured out whey Asian restaurants tend to the buffet option.
Write-ins: Sirloin Buffet, Wok-A-Holic
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Coffee-table books ‘The Complete Lyrics of Oscar Hammerstein II’
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Coffee-table books: ‘Wisdom’
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Coffee-table books: The Vanity Fair Portraits
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Open-Source Reporting: Club Micro-Hoods: 360
Why open-source reporting? Because you can contribute to our knowledge of which bars and clubs have opened or closed in the last year. We depend on you. Note: Restaurants are included if their bars attract a separate social scene.
This is our newest club micro-hood: 360 Tower. Separated by windy two blocks each from the Warehouse, West Second and West Sixth districts, the retail cluster at the base of the residential high-rise operates, for now, like a welcome oasis. And with the delay of planned nearby condos, it might remain a separate destination for some time.
Austin Music Hall. 208 Nueces St. 495-9962
Backstage Bar. 612 W. Fourth St. 263-4146/236-0125
Blu. 360 Nueces St. Phone?
Mulberry. 360 Nueces St. 320-0297
La Zona Rosa. 612 W. Fourth St. 263-4146/236-0125
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Open-Source Reporting: Club Micro-Hoods: Red River Street
For the December XL Bar Guide, we attempt to identify 14 Austin club micro-hoods. Well, actually nine downtown micro-hoods, then five larger regions outside the central business district.
Why open-source reporting? Because you can contribute to our knowledge of which bars and clubs have opened or closed in the last year. We depend on you. Note: Restaurants are included if their bars attract a separate social scene.
Beerland. 711 1/2 Red River St. 479-7625.
Bull McCabe’s Irish Pub. 714 Red River, 478-4022
Club De Ville. 900 Red River St. 457-0900.
Elysium. 705 Red River St. 478-2979.
Emo’s. 603 Red River St. 477-3667.
Headhunters. 720 Red River St. 236-0188.
Mohawk. 912 Red River St. 482-8404.
Plush. 617 Red River St. 478-0099.
Red Eyed Fly. 715 Red River St. 474-1084.
Room 710. 710 Red River St. 476-0997.
Spiro’s. 611 Red River St. 472-4272.
Stubb’s. 801 Red River St. 480-8341.
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Open-Source Reporting: Club Micro-Hoods: West Sixth Street
For the December XL Bar Guide, we attempt to identify 14 Austin club micro-hoods. Well, actually nine downtown micro-hoods, then five larger regions outside the central business district.
Why open-source reporting? Because you can contribute to our knowledge of which bars and clubs have opened or closed in the last year. We depend on you. Note: Restaurants are included if their bars attract a separate social scene.
Perhaps the most obvious expansion of downtown nightlife in the past three years has been on West Sixth Street. What was once just Katz’s and Hut’s, later joined by Opal Divine’s and Mother Egan’s, now stretches virtually contiguously from Lamar Boulevard to Congress Avenue. A few outliers — Tiniest Bar in Texas, Joe’s Bar & Grill — belong in this district as well.
Bess Bistro on Pecan. 500 W. Sixth St. 477-2377
Betsy’s Bar. 301 W. Sixth St. 480-9433
Brown Bar. 201 W. Eighth St. 480-8330.
Hi-Lo Bar. 301 W. Sixth St., 480-9433
Hut’s. 807 W. Sixth St. 472-0693
J. Black’s. 710 W. Sixth St. 433-6954.
Joe’s Bar & Grill. 506 West Ave. 473-0885
Karma. 119 W. Eighth St. 469-0504
Katz’s Deli. 618 W. Sixth St. 472-2037
Key Bar. 617 W. Sixth St. 236-9389.
Little Woodrow’s. 520 W. Sixth St. 477-2337
Maiko Sushi Lounge. 311 W Sixth St. 236-9888
Mother Egan’s Irish Pub. 715 W. Sixth St. 478-7747.
Molotov. 719 W. Sixth St. 499-0600.
Momo’s. 618 W. Sixth St. 479-8848
The Ranch. 710 W. Sixth St. 465-2016.
Ranch 616. 616 Nueces St. 479-7616.
Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse. 107 W. Sixth St. 477-7884
Star Bar. 600 W. Sixth St. 477-8550.
Thistle Cafe. 300 W. Sixth St. 275-9777
Tiniest Bar in Texas. 817 W. Fifth St. 391-6222
Union Park. 612 W. Sixth St. 478-7275
Waterloo Icehouse. 600 N. Lamar Blvd. 472-5400
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Open-Source Reporting: Club Micro-Hoods: Warehouse District
For the December XL Bar Guide, we attempt to identify 14 Austin club micro-hoods. Well, actually nine downtown micro-hoods, then five larger regions outside the central business district.
Why open-source reporting? Because you can contribute to our knowledge of which bars and clubs have opened or closed in the last year. We depend on you. Note: Restaurants are included if their bars attract a separate social scene.
Historically — meaning during the last two decades — the Warehouse District has been where the grown-ups retreated for a good time. Its boundaries, however, are shifting. We’ve already spun a satellite micro-hood to invent Middle Fifth Street, and meanwhile stripped the West Second Street hotspots from its territory. And its northern reaches now best fit the West Sixth Street’s culture. Check the other lists for Warehouse District refugees.
Antone’s. 213 W. Fifth St. 320-8424
Beso Cantina. 307 W. Fifth St. 535-7162
Cedar Street Courtyard. 208 W. Fourth St. 495-9669
Club Antro. 301 W. Fifth St. 480-9888
Cuba Libre. 409 Colorado St. 472-2822
Fado Irish Pub. 214 W. Fourth St. 457-0172
The Ginger Man. 304 Fourth St. 473-8801
Halcyon. 218 W. Fourth St. 472-9637
Imperia. 310 Colorado St. 472-6770
Kenichi. 419 Colorado St. 320-8883
La Traviata Italian Bistro. 314 Congress Ave. 479-8131
Lavaca Street Bar. 405 Lavaca St. 469-0106
Light Bar. 408 Congress Ave. 473-8544.
Lucky Lounge. 209 W. Fifth St. 479-7700
Manuel’s. 310 Congress Ave. 472-7555
Oilcan Harry’s. 211 W. Fourth St. 320-8823
Pangaea. 409 Colorado St. 472-8882
Peche. 208 W. Fourth St. 495-9669
Qua. 213 W. Fourth St. 472-2782
Rain on 4th. 217 W. Fourth St. 494-1150
Rainbow Cattle Co. 305 W. Fifth St. 472-5288
Red Fez. 209 W. Fifth St. 478-5120
Saba Blue Water Cafe. 208 W. Fourth St. 478-7222
Six Lounge and Taproom. 117 W. Fourth St. 472-6662
Speakeasy. 412 Congress Ave. (alley entrance). 476-8017
Starlite. 407 Colorado St. 374-9012
Sullivan’s Steakhouse. 300 Colorado St. 495-6504
Truluck’s. 400 Colorado St. 482-9000
219 West. 219 W. Fourth St. 474-2194
Vicci Nightclub. 404 Colorado St. 476-7799
Whiskey Bar. 303 W. Fifth St. 481-8599
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Open-Source Reporting: Club Micro-Hoods: Middle Fifth Street
For the December XL Bar Guide, we attempt to identify 14 Austin club micro-hoods. Well, actually nine downtown micro-hoods, then five larger regions outside the central business district.
Why open-source reporting? Because you can contribute to our knowledge of which bars and clubs have opened or closed in the last year. We depend on you. Note: Restaurants are included if their bars attract a separate social scene.
Apple Bar. 120 W. Fifth St. 322-9291
Canvas. Bar & Gallery. 105 E. Fifth St. 391-9181
Gruv Nightclub. 101 W. Fifth St. 467-4556
Lanai Rooftop Lounge. 422 Congress Ave. 479-6600
The Marq. 422 Congress Ave. 322-5180
One 2 One. 121 E. Fifth St. 473-0121.
Prague. 422 Congress Ave. 477-2483
Shiner’s Saloon. 422 Congress Ave. 448-4600
Sky Lounge. 416 Congress Ave. 542-0029
Photo of Eric Nguyen, Rose Tran at Gruv.
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Open-Source Reporting: Club Micro-Hoods: West Second Street
For the December XL Bar Guide, we attempt to identify 14 Austin club micro-hoods. Well, actually nine downtown micro-hoods, then five larger regions outside the central business district.
Why open-source reporting? Because you can contribute to our knowledge of which bars and clubs have opened or closed in the last year. We depend on you. Note: Restaurants are included if their bars attract a separate social scene.
Cantina Laredo. 201 W. Third St. 542-9670
Cru. 238 W. Second St. 472-9463
Jo’s on Second. 242 W. Second St. 469-9003
Lamberts. 401 W. Second St. 494-1500
Malaga Tapas & Bar. 440 W. Second St. 236-8020
Taste. 202 W. Cesar Chavez St. 478-2783
Taverna. 258 W. Second St. 477-1001
III Forks. 111 Lavaca St. 474-1776
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The Ear Candy 3: O’Death, Bigbang, Randy Hauser
O’Death — “Broken Hymns, Limbs and Skin.” Wailing hillbilly punk. At first, repugnant. Then one is swept into the entangled rhythms. The musically and theatrically sophisticated blend of humor and horror recall Graham Williams and White Ghost Shivers.
Bigbang — “From Acid to Zen.” Throwback harmonic rock. Too mellow by half. Wouldn’t be worth a second or third listen if it wasn’t for the occasional rougher edge or wiser lyric.
Randy Hauser — “Anything Goes.” Standard-issue country. Down to the arrogant honkytonk and God cliches that don’t add up. But Hauser is a catch-happy tunesmith with a plummy voice and, in this case, an extremely sympathetic producer. Lots of commercial potential.
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Guest blogger Alison Willis: Red River Street
We’ve been working on the December XL club and bar guide. Guest blogger and St. Edward’s University student Alison Willis provided this excellent run-down on the Red River Street scene. Remember, these are her conclusions.
Emo’s: A name synonymous with live music for many years now. In addition to a small indoor dive-y venue, Emo’s also has a large outdoor venue that attracts many big-name artists. They also run a lounge next door, but I heard that they were closing it to put in El Sol Y La Luna (a restaurant on Congress). Not sure when that will happen or the details. Also known for the nastiest bathrooms in town.
Plush: A lounge club that specializes in dance, hip-hop, primarily DJ-based music.
Elysium: Goth-y dance bar straight out of the ’80s.You will see people clad in black with tons of eyeliner looking like they are carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders. They also have a good ’80s night, where old people like me can dance to all the favorites from high school and junior high. They also attract a gay/lesbian crowd. Elysium features live music from time to time.
Beerland: Dive bar featuring live music. Usually punk-y bands, with a good mix of indie and garage thrown in. Problemmatic sound if you happen to be playing there. Love the name.
Red-Eyed Fly: Another dive bar. Has good-sized stage and bar in outdoor area. Think that this bar is mostly metal and hard rock, with a few hair metal-ish bands thrown in for good measure.
Room 710: Live music. Metal, metal, metal! Used to be a little more diverse in its musical tastes, but seems to be steering towards the heavier bands these days. Gutter punks and aging metal musicians (the old skool Red River crowd) are at home here.
Headhunters: The name says it all. Another bar that caters to old skool Red River crowd. Usually the same mix of people. Metal and hard rock.
Stubbs BBQ: Premier live music venue. Music featured outdoors and indoors. Outdoor area showcases touring bands that have achieved a larger measure of success. Indoor is more local bands and smaller touring acts.I heard that they were doing a renovation of the outdoor area to make the stage more accessible and expanding to make the capacity higher.
Club Deville: A hipster hangout. Great outdoor area that now features bands often. Indie-rock is the main staple at this joint. Mostly local bands, but sometimes touring bands are featured.
The Mohawk: Another hipster hangout for the late-twenties/thirtysomething set. Owners have been successful in turning this formerly cursed location into a crucial component of the live music scene. Indie-rock/pop/dance touring acts frequent the outside stage, while the inside stage keeps it mainly local. Transmission Entertainment, which features Graham Williams, the former booker of Emo’s, and another local booker, Rosa Madriz, is the main reason this bar is so successful.
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George Bernard Shaw on marriage timely again
Every 10 to 20 years, George Bernard Shaw comes back into fashion. I don’t mean his plays. The major titles — “Pygmalion,” “Heartbreak House,” “Major Barbara,” “Arms and the Man,” “Mrs. Warren’s Profession,” “Candida” — are never far from the theatrical boards.
Marriage is back in the news, thanks to the unexpectedly quick acceptance of gay partnerships and the political backlash against their advances on the social front. So Different Stages, Austin’s most literate community theater, has revived Shaw’s “Getting Married” at The Vortex.
Shaw zeroes in on the difficulty of divorce in the English civil sphere, but also hashes out the age-old entanglements between church and state on the issue. At one point, the unhappily single or married relations attempt to hammer out a “partnership contract” to replace marriage.
Director Norman Blumensaadt’s cast handles the language pretty adroitly — Tyler Jones is unusually adept at turning a conventionally snobbish juvenile into a credible leading man — so I smiled for almost three hours. One entirely un-Shavian scene dramatizes a ecstatic religious vision by one character, played with zest and zeal by Emily Errington.
Almost everything else transpires on an intellectual plane and the marriage debate sounds as timely as this morning’s headlines.
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Benolds Holiday Spree for Legacy of Giving
We usually publish our own party pictures. Yet connector Lisa O’Neill was gracious enough to forgive my absence from the Benold’s holiday party for the Austin Community Foundation’s Legacy of Giving program that I thought a few snaps from the event would help salve the wound. Looks like some social heavy hitters attended the jewelry and charity event.
Judi Knotts, Milton Doolittle (owner of Benold’s), Lynn Meredith, Linda Brucker (executive director, Legacy of Giving) and Kenneth Gladish, (president/CEO of Austin Community Foundation)
Sally Rivero, Valerie Lyng, Joy Selak
Lauren Peters, Linda Brucker, Renee Francese
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World’s best orchestras?
Gramophone has released its Top 20 orchestra rankings ahead of the UK magazine’s December edition. I don’t pay sustained attention to these things, but it looks like Boston and New York are slipping, while Los Angeles, justly, is in the ascendant. The Top 5 are hard to argue with, but I reserve mixed feelings for No. 6, the Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra (through recordings only).
Houston and Dallas? Not even close to this list. Perhaps in the Next Next 20.
The Top 10: 1) Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra, Amsterda; 2) Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra; 3) Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra; 4) London Symphony Orchestra; 5) Chicago Symphony Orchestra; 6) Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra; 7) Cleveland Orchestra; 8) Los Angeles Philharmonic; 9) Budapest Festival Orchestra; 10) Dresden Staatskapelle
The Next 10: 11) Boston Symphony Orchestra; 12) New York Philharmonic; 13) San Francisco Symphony; 14) Mariinsky Theater Orchestra; 15) Russian National Orchestra; 16) Leningrad Philharmonic; 17) Leipzig Gewandhaus Orchestra; 18) Metropolitan Opera Orchestra; 19) Saito Kinen Orchestra; 20) Czech PhilharmonicPerhaps if the acoustics at the Bass are actually fixed, the UT PAC could host one of these a year for the next 20 years. Would be educational. Of course, the College of Fine Arts must pick a permanent successor to Pebbles Wadsworth first.
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Eastward toward Prozac
Maybe it was the East Austin Studio Tour earlier in the day. Or maybe The Good Knight has really caught fire. But when I stopped by the hidden East Sixth Street gem for a quick snack during my late-night hike to The Peacock, the joint was jumping. Billy Stockton, sound-man-turned-restaurant-owner, recognized me and waved me toward the plump fried green tomatoes.
Turns out journalism runs in Rose’s background. He interned in Washington D.C. with Scripps Howard, but he couldn’t stomach the sight of veteran reporters squeezed by the new realities of the newspaper industry.
Rose came to town to work in film. Stayed to labor on Web sites. He writes short stories on the side. I discovered this last bit by spying on his neatly replete notebook. (I couldn’t read any words over his shoulder, but I could tell that part of his brain always roamed back to his stories.)
After forcing some dollars on Stockton, my new acquaintance and I headed in separate directions.
The sidewalks on East-East Sixth Street were deserted, although the Latino bars reverberated with revelry. Farther east, I was disappointed to see absolutely not a soul walking to or from the many lofts, condos and apartments that have sprung up along this vital artery. The coffeehouses and other businesses had closed early. This was the time of night when a city needs to be a city.
The Peacock didn’t disappoint, however, as friends of inveterate socializer Christopher Carbone mingled with a soccer team fresh from a game or practice. That kind of encounter seems easier these days. Don’t know why.
I spoke to a fifth-grade teacher from San Antonio, and then two young men arguing over the name of a band. The shorter fellow, Ryan Morris, had dubbed his group Fluoxetine after the chemical name for Prozac. The bigger dude, Zac Folk (founder of CommonThreadz.org) and I agreed that tongue-slipper was going nowhere. Big guy voted for The Cranks.
Someone’s really got to start a business renaming Austin bands.
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Thai pleasures at the Monarch
I went for the view. I stayed for the conversation and cuisine. Not long, as readers like Dreambrother (see comments) are just discovering: I cover the social waterfront. Yes, something like a butterfly.
Charles Gentry, Craig Rancourt
This butterfly landed at The Monarch at one point on Saturday. The three-bedroom south-end apartment of Oliver Everette and Craig Rancourt demolished the conclusions I’d drawn — that Austin’s modern high-rise living spaces were too cold and too small. At 3,000 square feet, this cozy retreat was warmed by wood floors, select carpets and wisely overstuffed furniture.
Edson Enriquez, Ingrid Enriquez
I dropped in on a dinner party designed by Everette and Midlife Gal Sally Jackson, whose expertise at Thai food is justly renowned. (She makes her own pastes, etc., and almost everything from scratch.) I lapped up my tangy coconut soup and noshed on spring rolls, met jewelry designer Edson Enriquez and caught up with longtime Austinite Charles Gentry, who moved into the 360 Tower across the way (joining Forrest Preece and Linda Ball, also in attendance).
The Everette/Rancourt residence looks west and east, as well as south. The views from four decks are ravishing. Just another reason to like these recent immigrants from the Northeast.
David Allen, Anita Tschurr, Joe Eifler
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Show us the way to the next whiskey bar…
I felt duty-bound to fill a spot on one of his barstools. Over a spot of seaweedy Islay scotch, we talked about the brambled Big 12, then Heisman and national playoff bets, the weird act of growing up in isolated suburbs, trends in beverage preferences (the Whiskey Bar displays a Tuaca dispenser, for instance, but “it is not a Tuaca bar,” the tender insisted of the sweet Italian liqueur). We delved into details of the grotesque crimes that came out of isolated Texas suburbs, our tones suggesting an unmistakable link between isolation and criminal insanity.
Hence the need to fill that barstool — and connect. It felt like something out of a urban short story — single bartender, single patron — a half hour of conversation that might have scratched a wee bit beneath the surface. Then hearing the news that the Whiskey Bar may be sold soon, the weary Bertolt Brecht lyrics floated in my head: “Show us the way to the next whiskey bar — oh don’t ask why, oh don’t ask why…”
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Patterns upon patterns at Lora Reynolds Gallery
The moment I beheld the invitation from Lora Reynolds Gallery for the Benjamin Butler show, I was determined to attend the opening reception. Something about the frame-filling organic forms, executed in black and white in a way that was both minimal and maximal, convinced me that Kansas-bred, Chicago-trained, New York-based Butler had arrived.
Anne Eastman, Benjamin Butler, Don Mullins
The social set at Lora Reynolds’ immaculate space — postmodern dancer Deborah Hay, museum leader Dana Friis-Hansen, ballet master Stephen Mills, Arthouse director Sue Graze, top collector Mickey Klein, furniture dealer Jeff Kirk, veteran contempo promoter Laurence Miller — clearly agreed. And Butler’s brief, composed gallery talk confirmed that he is synthesizing a gushing stream of modernism, kitsch, regional landscape painting, abstract expressionism, etc. (Besides the organic forms, he’s playing with gestural drip painting.)
Bhawna Sharma, Helen Oh
Reynolds’ new gallery at the base of the 360 Tower, by the way, is roomier and more accessible than her previous one across Shoal Creek to the west. Its four public rooms are finished out to perfection. That little neighborhood is filling out quite nicely.
Jen Zakrzewski, Matt Jones
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Notes on East Texas road trip
Five hours to Nacogdoches. Five hours back.
Toll Road 130 is handy for reaching U.S. 79, my preferred route to deep East Texas. You skip the whole Round Rock mess.
Construction has slowed drastically in Hutto. Suburban boom looks half-undone due to the financial meltdown.
The only pockmarks seem to be made of metal: Mobile homes, abandoned industrial sheds and billboards, although thankfully few of those. Of course, much of the mining damage near Rockdale and Jewett is hidden from road.
Loops around larger towns, such as Palestine, are there for a reason. Take them if it’s possible.
Highways 84 and 69, then Texas 21 arc around to Nacogdoches. I’m not sure it’s the quickest way, but looked lovely going and coming.
Nacogdoches, historic toehold for the Spanish, then restless Americans in East Texas, has grown enormously since I last lingered there. The courthouse, including a savvy contemporary art center, is thriving. The drag along Stephen F. Austin University has grown up, and the campus itself has expanded, grown more dense — I was befuddled by the grand new student center. Suburbs stretch north. It was easy to get lost.
With its wide, clear shoulders, U.S. 79 is good for cooling tempers. When a faster car approaches a slower one, the latter simply pulls over, as if it were a 4-lane highway. Almost every driver who passed me waved his or her thanks.
What’s the best way to access Central Austin from Toll Road 130? I swept up U.S. 71, but until they extend the freeway from Riverside Drive to the toll road, that will always remain a stiflingly clogged rout
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A Post-Obama ‘Big River’
Already historic, Barack Obama’s election will change the way we experience almost everything in American society. Case in point, “Big River,” Roger Miller’s musical version of Mark Twain’s “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.” During director Scott Shattuck’s production at Stephen F. Austin State University, I listened to the audience listening to the material in a completely fresh way.
Shattuck’s production didn’t exaggerate the show’s dark side, but the serious moments were all the more memorable because of the contemporary social context. I don’t think a single person in the house fully realized how earth-shattering it was for Huck to choose eternal damnation in order to help free runaway slave Jim — hell was a more immediate and explicit threat during the 19th century, which we glimpse in the horrific tarring of the film-flam artist/actor.
Yet nobody in the audience could avoid the symbolism of a white boy treating a black slave as a brother — and vice versa — as well as the transformative power of that relationship. Happily, the cast hit the light and the dark notes equally well: Winsome David Hathway as Huck, grounded Waldron Archer — an Austin Community College transfer — as Jim, high-flying JT Hearn as Tom, seasoned Brittnee Stout as Mary Jane Wilkes and silver-toned LaDonna Jackson as Alice’s Daughter, rescuing two somber scenes with her singular voice.
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Flag football for a cause during the Sugar Free Bowl
The Sugar Free Bowl is a city-wide tournament featuring men’s and coed teams. Delta Epsilon Psi organizes the event, now in its sixth year, to benefit juvenile diabetes causes. The donation ceremony can be viewed 2:30 p.m. Saturday at the University of Texas Intramural Fields at Guadalupe and 51st Street.
Honoring Vishal Bhagat, who struggled with juvenile diabetes and died in a swimming accident, the fundraiser has spread across the nation to 20 campuses. Wish we were going to be in town for this one, but my quick trip to East Texas intervenes. Hope to have earlier notice next year.
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Big Reds & Bubbles at the Driskill Hotel
It would be easy, in Austin, to become cynical about the charity events that offer nibbles from the city’s best kitchens and tastings from the best wineries. After all, how much can one absorb when dozens of dishes and scores of wines are blinking from tables all around you?
Lauren Jahnke, Bob Jahnke
Yet the Texas Wine and Food Foundation, who helped spark the region’s food revolution, stages such delectable assemblies, they are hard to pass by. Big Reds and Bubbles, the foundation’s major fall event, provides extraordinary access to smashing sparkling wine and the kinds of muscly reds that have won American palates for the past 10 to 20 years.
Kimberley Benson, Vic Baker, Karen Benson
We arrived late, chatted forever, and finally tasted a few of those reds. But mostly it was about the people. This sold-out event at the Driskill Hotel brings out young and old, specialist and amateur, making it almost as festive as the charity’s Hill Country Food and Wine Festival, which bookends its calendar.
Gwen Cash, Mike Sauro, Kary Muniz
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Cissi’s Wine Bar a smash hit
What a transformation! Cissi’s Market, a bold attempt at a gourmet shop on South Congress Avenue, has been transformed into a roomy, modern wine bar. One can still purchase those stuffed sandwiches, coffees and groceries in the back. Yet two thirds of the space has been given over to the newest SoCo jewel.
Three heavy-hitters: Rebecca Wallace, Piper Jones, Lisa Fox
Proud owner Victoria Lynden’s raised bar and neatly arranged tables flirt with passersby in the newly opened-up serving area. Sommelier Nat Davis has filled one wall with carefully selected vintages — serving a Terregaie Prosecco from the Veneto, a Champalou Vouvray 2006, a Dom. Diochon Moulin-a-Vent 2006 and a Duchesse de Bourgogne Flemish Red Ale during last night’s opening party.
Ivan Figueroa, Alejandra Eckel
Executive chef Deegan McClung, formerly sous chef at Uchi, dazzled the senses with a short menu that included crispy goufrettes, an all-day breakfast salad with tiny egg, gravlax accented with red onion among other ingredients and Belgian ale doughnuts (to go with the Duchesse). I almost forgot my favorite: Grilled Medjool dates wrapped with bacon, stuffed with Pecorino Toscano and Maracona almonds. The mind could barely process this taste blowout.
Robert Meyers, Linda Asaf (wearing one of her earliest designs)
The early evening seating could be overheard groaning with pleasure as they were served each dish and drink. The service — caterer nonpareil Rebecca Wallace may have had something to do with this — was spot on, a rarity for a restaurant opening. We’re going to be meeting people at the new, improved Cissi’s as frequently as possible.
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Bobby Flay, Claire Danes, Chris Martin dally in Austin
The Food Network’s combative Flay, waiting for flight, dropped by Cuba Libre in the Warehouse District, then dallied at Lamberts. The barbecue restaurant was closed for the afternoon siesta, but Flay socialized at the bar. When a new state legislator showed up with his cowboy-hatted crew, they mobbed the celebrity chef, then waited outside for autographs. We understand Flay is opening a restaurant near the Mean-Eyed Cat.
Willowy Danes, in town to shoot the HBO film “Temple Grandin,” has settled on several favorite places to shop. One such destination is a block away from Lamberts on Second Street — Eliza Page, the boutique that sells the select jewelry and accessories, including the latest from Austin’s Anthony Nak line.
Multiple sightings of Coldplay’s charismatic Martin in and around the Four Seasons Hotel elicited this tidbit: The band always uses Austin as its Texas base camp. The group played Houston and Dallas before heading to Denver and Salt Lake City, but as far as we know, not even casually in Austin.
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Cliff Redd on the mend
This is my idea of luxury: A whole night spent visiting with a tiny gathering of friends, old and new, in an intimate setting. That’s what Kip and I enjoyed last night relaxing with Long Center for the Performing Arts exec director Cliff Redd and his partner Rick Johnson. Along for the ride was retired lawyer, arts backer and expert conversationalist Richard Hartgrove.
But we headed out on what Redd calls the “Ho Chi Minh Trail” of North Austin Asian eateries he adores, landing at a tremendous Chinese barbecue spot called Din Ho. Oh my. Every dish — chicken, beef, pork, fish, eggplant, whatever — topped the previous. Simple presentation. All the labor and love goes into the food.
Then back to Cat Mountain for more leisurely conversation that ranged from early years in Dallas, Houston, Fort Worth and San Angelo to the latest developments in the Long Center’s evolution. Lots of dog talk. Galveston talk — Redd’s East Lake Victorian is undergoing renovations after Hurricane Ivan. Partner talk. Singles talk (do men these days type too narrowly). Much that cannot escape the cone of silence.
Also medical talk. Redd is recovering from a heart attack. He had nothing but high praise for the Seton crew that made sure “every minute counted.” Johnson is playing a parallel role in Redd’s recovery to Kip’s in mine. The main thing is trying to slow both of us down. Redd, after all, parcels out his work day in 15-minute increments. At least I try to stretch out the units to 30 minutes. Anyway, he looks and sounds well, but we both should listen to Rick and Kip.
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2:30 p.m. today: Weekend Out Live Chat with Michael Ault, Alisa Weldon, Lora Reynolds & others
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As much time as possible with the Midlife Gals
We don’t waste time worrying about the future of the Midlife Gals. In their own words, the redheaded fiftysomethings are “shameless self-promoters.” Sally and Kelly Jackson are familiar to readers of this column because of their popular blog, online sitcom, YouTube videos, Internet radio show and tireless public appearances.
They remind me of other Austin shameless self-promoters — Kinky Friedman, Bob “Daddy-O” Wade, Turk Pipkin — who nevertheless charm and contribute to the greater good of the community. What are they like over the course of drinks and appetizers at the reopened Paggi House? Like the zygote of Fannie Flagg matured as a timeless Texas vaudeville team.
The worldly pair met Kip and I for a quick get-to-know-you, which stretched out for a few hours. We talked about their lives on the East and West Coasts before returning to their native Austin to care for their mother, “The Ancient One,” about their times with Ann Richards, Luci Baines Johnson, Karen Kuykendall, Mark McKinnon, Molly Ivins and other Austin icons. Meanwhile, they were greeted at the Paggi House patio table by socializers such as Forrest Preece and Linda Ball, Oliver Everette and Craig Rancourt. (Some kind of mad Thai dinner is planned for The Monarch on Saturday.)
We also talked about their Italian travels, stand-up comedy, “President of Texas” John T. Davis, local parties and their dream pad at the Four Seasons residence, which, like their newly branded midlife career, doesn’t seem unlikely, given their typhoonic personalities.
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Swept along the tides of Austin’s club micro-hoods
In the dream, I leave Lamberts at 10:30 p.m. Dust devils of revelers, bundled against the cold, swirl down West Second Street. I pass twinkling shops, bars and eateries. Because construction obstructs the flow toward the Convention Center and the rest of the Second Street District, I, along with my stranger/comrades, take a sharp left on Colorado Street.
Heading uphill, I slice through dressed-up masses at Fourth and Colorado Streets, the Warehouse District’s magnetic core. Gay and straight mingle carelessly. Yet the real transit point of any club migration is what I call Middle Fifth Street, that electric toggle between the Warehouse District and East Sixth Street. Cultures clash and mesh in this one block before the breathing space of Congress Avenue.
I dip into the Club DeVille for a mobbed urban fashion show, then steer back up Red River just as a monster concert — heavy on youth — disgorges from Stubb’s. So I jog left onto East Seventh Street, which cultivates its own hipster scene, increasingly distinct from Sixth or Red River. A strange neo-New Wave solo act at the Beauty Bar makes me smile, but drives me back into the throng outside.
After midnight, each block of East Sixth coalesces around a different culture, New Orleans here, Las Vegas there, Texas everywhere. After the windy blast of Congress again, I “go west.” The automotive traffic on West Sixth has not been curtailed by the authorities, yet the sidewalks teem with pedestrians, flocking to yet another downtown micro-hood, this one half casual/half dressy. I consider a nightcap and top-flight talent at Momo’s, but instead swerve south for the invigorating walk home, skittering past the newest nightlife pocket underneath the 360 Tower.
A dream? No. That was just one night Out & About among downtown Austin’s club micro-hoods. What was once mono-culture (Sixth) or binary culture (Sixth/Warehouse) is now evolving into distinct nightlife ecologies unrecognizable to those who skip the downtown scene altogether. Welcome to the club micro-hood.
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Pangaea anniverary party is back on
Why is Pangaea’s year marker worth a special Out & About update? Because the club on Colorado Street has been a magnet, since before it opened, for people disgruntled about changes in Austin’s nightlife.
Why not a hint of Miami in Austin? How does that alter the city’s essential character, especially when the revelers are 95 percent Austinites? Nobody has ever been able to explain that to me. (Again: Never a cover. Never a dress code. Bottle service not required. The velvet rope is a stage prop.)
I usually have a tremendous time at Pangaea, as the dance-everywhere design negates the preening inherent in most dance-related clubs. And people sort of open up. There’s little of that negative energy — bordering on hostility — one sometimes finds on club dance floors.
I say “Happy Birthday, Pangaea. May you other heretics continue to spread diversity across the city’s club micro-hoods.”
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Paggi House rises again
The grand opening of the Paggi House was something of an anti-climax. The restaurant had been serving customers — the customary soft opening — for days if not weeks. And everyone in the foodie community had followed the closure, purchase, renovation and reopening so closely, it seemed like an afterthought to attend the ribbon-cutting ceremony.
Hillary Owen, Taylor Perkins (publisher, Rare magazine), Rick Engel (owner, Paggi House), Tori Tinnon (managing partner, Paggi House)
But there was Mayor Will Wynn, trim and stylish, reminding us that the redevelopment of Austin’s urban core is the envy of the nation. Not just the towering condos, but the sensitive repurposing of older structures like the Paggi House ( old, but not quite as old as its promoters often insist, according to historians). In fact, several of the night’s revelers had walked from their high-rises across the river or down Lamar Boulevard to sample the new cuisine and hospitality at one of Austin’s oldest public houses.
Erin Hager, J.B. Hager (Mix 94.7)
We were there with the Midlife Gals (more on that later), but we wandered through the renovation, agog at the huge, sweeping canopy out back, the thoughtful, fruit-bearing landscaping and the expanded patios out front. In fact, on a pretty night like the one we enjoyed, three quarters of Paggi House’s seating is out of doors. We nibbled on some explosively flavored appetizers, forgave the inconsistent service and happily toasted the reentry of this perennial favorite.
Mark Eissler, Steph Sherrod
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Your A-List, Best Beauty Salon
Snatching second with 31 percent is a smaller salon group with three Austin locations — Avant. Everybody else, mostly one-off Austin salons — Jackson Ruiz, Birds, Aziz, Salon 505, Ann Kelso, Bradz, Joie de Vie and Vain — took 3 percent or less of the vote.
Looks like it pays to locate where the traffic allows.
Write-ins: Innu, Milk+Honey, Topaz, Two Wild Sisters, Urban Betty, Viva
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Your A-List, Biggest Eyesore
Sometimes at Your A-List, a category is created just for write-ins. Such is the case with Biggest Eyesore. And the five-way tie for the top spot indicates that people are irritated, but we aren’t exactly sure at what.
The Monarch, for instance, is a high-rise apartment executed in a safe, almost bland modernist style. The only possibly offensive elements are the wing-like structures on the top. Are they really eyesores? Given the context of other Austin high-rises, are the wings so out of character?
One reader wrote in “empty house near the dog park at Interstate 35 and Riverside.” That would be the historic Norwood estate, stripped of its ornaments and mothballed by a well-meaning group hoping to salvage it. It’s a mess now, but it’s really “in storage” until someone restores it.
Still another decries the condos going up behind Shady Grove. Fine, you are mad that the mobile homes and some trees are gone. But there’s no building there yet. How can a temporary construction site be a permanent eyesore?
The final “winner” is the most interesting: the Holly Street Power Plant. Here’s a decommissioned utility structure destined to be gutted and replaced with something more neighborhood friendly — a park. Why expend a vote on a dead building on its way out? Unless its simply to continue the political discussion of why it was built and maintained there in the first place. I suspect that’s the case.
You have spoken, but the message remains unclear when it comes to defining “eyesore.”
Photo: City council member Mike Martinez, left, and former Austin Energy general manager Juan Garza, right, look over an artist rendering of suggested park space that will eventually replace the Holly Street Plant
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Splitting musical theater’s core audience
Some commentators felt he suffered unfairly for speaking his mind. (This is not, however, a First Amendment issue, which concerns government censorship, not, as in this case, public opprobrium.) Others believe that, in an industry so dependent on (often cheap) gay labor, Eckern’s position was an affront to his longtime colleagues. Fair points all.
What intrigues me, however, is the sudden and potentially permanent rift in the core audience for musical theater. I’ve written for years about how Broadway’s coded emphasis on emotion and romance, rather than naturalistic themes, has brought together diverse fans who read into “West Side Story” or “Fiddler on the Roof” their own relationships — romantic, familial or societal.
But now, two crucial constituents are at loggerheads: The gay brigade and the suburban faction. Whose emotional reality ultimately counts? Sounds like a good theme for a musical — or a season of healing musicals.
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Cutting back on holiday socializing?
You tell us. Are you cutting back on holiday socializing? Are you limiting the number of events you host or attend? Or, instead, have you minimized your budgets for the same number of events?
We’re planning a big lump-of-coal story on the impact of the economy of Austin socializing. Send us your thoughts and tips — mbarnes@statesman.com or in the commentary box.
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Checking into Baker Hotel
Barrett contributes keyboards and vocals to a pop band called Baker Hotel. They’ve played the Tiniest Bar in Texas, Uncle Billy’s and Saxon Pub, among other gigs in their first year or so together. They trace their roots to rock, folk and, especially, Southern antecedents.
I’ve been listening to their samples on MySpace and on their dedicated Web site. Songwriter Carter Beckworth starts with a clear, clean concept of melody and an accessible, light touch with lyrics. You hear shades, not tones. The instrumental mesh is hospitable, and it rests reliably in a recognizable comfort zone, which is not a bad strategy for a still-evolving band.
I’ll catch them as soon as I can.
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Help Us Define Austin Club Micro-Hoods
The 2008 XL Bar Guide is coming up in December. Last year, we focused on the introduction of the ultra-lounge concept to the club ecology. The theme this time: The evolution of club micro-hoods downtown.
Some micro-hoods are well-established in the minds of tourists and locals. Others are more recent, perhaps ephemeral constructs, culturally and geographically.
Tell us what you think in the commentary box below.
East Sixth Street: Known to all tourists, it lies on either side of East Sixth from Congress Avenue almost to Interstate 35.
West Sixth Street: Fast rivaling its eastern counterpart, mostly for locals, its runs along West Sixth from Congress Avenue almost to Lamar Boulevard.
Warehouse District: Pioneered in the 1980s, it’s the grown-up version of Sixth, generally defined by West Sixth and West Third, Congress and Guadalupe.
Red River Street: The stronghold of original music, it straddles Red River from Sixth to around 10th Street.
Second Street: Still in the making, with construction smack in its middle, Second is the only planned district, flowing from San Antonio to the Convention Center.
Middle Fifth Street: Conceptually, the toggle between East Sixth and the Warehouse District, this overlapper on West Fifth mixes the two cultures.
East Seventh Street: Another overlapper, this stretch San Jacinto to Interstate 35 is not quite Sixth, not quite Red River. Developing its own social scene.
Others outside downtown: South, North, East, West, Campus.
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Weekend Out: Before the Holidays
Soon, all Austin socializing will be scrambled by six weeks of on-and-off holidays. Meanwhile, these tasty tidbits are ready to sample.
Friday: Preservation Awards at the Driskill Hotel; Hill Country Nights with Hayes Carll for Hill Country Conservancy at TDS Wildlife Exotic Game Ranch and Pavilion; First Anniversary Party at Pangaea. (I will be in Nacogdoches, of all places, seeing my dear friend Scott Shattuck’s production of “Big River” at Stephen F. Austin University. When possible, friends come first.)
Saturday: Lighting of Macy’s Great Tree at the Domain, “Benjamin Butler: Dark and Leafless” opening reception at Lora Reynolds Gallery; Christopher Carbone Birthday Party at the Peacock; King of Kombat at the Crockett Center; L.M. Rivers’ Pre-Thanksgiving Birthday Bash at the Doubletree North
Sunday: East Austin Studio Tour; Different Stages’ “Getting Married” at the Vortex
Tuesday: Butter Ball Event for Coats for Kids at the Belmont; H-E-B Feast of Sharing at the Palmer Events Center
Wednesday: Pre-Thanksgiving Fete at Perry’s Steakhouse & Grille
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Getting to know Reuel Meditz, with or without shirt
So, after much jockeying for the right hour, I met Reuel Meditz for coffee. Big, cool, moist eyes. Husky voice, perhaps from a cold. A font of enthusiasm about his composing career, his new keyboard CD, “A Journey of Dreams,” and his singular path in the music industry.
Meditz grew up in the Metroplex, attended a small private school (Kolbe Academy) and moved to Austin with his family when his grandmother grew ill. Inspired by KMFA’s “Film Score Focus,” all the classically trained artist ever wanted to do was compose movie music. You don’t hear that line every day. (As always, the best way to get to know someone better — befriend them on Facebook.)
So how did he end up working at Cuba Libre and modeling — sans chemise — at W3LL? (“Pays the bills,” he says.) He started out at Abercrombie & Fitch, which would explain his blitheness on our first meeting. But he spends almost all his time working on scores, like the one for “My South, My Soul,” a PBS show still in production. (In fact, he was tinkering with lyrics in a notebook when I arrived at Jo’s.)
Meditz’s music is melodic, plumply scored and entirely right for movies. He’s working on his live performance chops and plans to add a vocal element. If he’s as charismatic onstage as he is sitting in an Austin coffee shop — or just serving drinks — Meditz will thrive. (As always, the best way to get to know someone better — befriend them on Facebook.)
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Kay Longcope honored with NLGJA scholarship
A longtime Boston Globe reporter and co-founder of The Texas Triangle, the first consistently serious periodical for the state’s gay community, Longcope left money for this purpose in her estate. Her surviving partner, Barbara Wohlgemuth, also of Austin, guided the creation of the scholarship. (Pictured are Barbara and Kay.)
We miss Kay, a role model, and hope this will complement her already profound legacy. Deadlines for applications are Jan. 9.
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Bullock + Carlozzi wedding = Biz + Arts
They’ve been an item for many months. Now Annette Carlozzi and Dan Bullock are married, joined during a small family ceremony over the weekend by Flint Sparks. Carlozzi is, of course, one of the curating stars at the Blanton Museum of Art, while Bullock runs a communications company and has contributed to countless organizations, not the least Leadership Austin and major arts groups such as Zach Theatre.
The bride and groomed retired to the Westwood Country Club for a party that joined their respective communities. Ernie Gammage and the Newmatics provided the tunes. UT professor Michael Smith and New York curator Regine Basha discoed; arts patron Mickey Klein and New York artist Rochelle Feinstein added a dash of salsa. (Would like to have witnessed that!)
Other guests included a good chunk of the Fortunate 500: James Armstrong and Larry Connally, Karen Oswalt, Jane Sibley, Jeanne Klein, Maria and Eric Groten, GSD&M chief Duff and Liz Stewart, Dave Steakley and Tony Johnson, Stephen Mills and Brent Hasty, Evan and Julia Smith, Sarah Bird and George Jones, Fran Mcgee, Carol and Chris Adams, Damian and Paula Priour, Dana Friis-Hansen and Mark Holzbach, Bob “Daddy-O” Wade and Lisa, Becky Beaver, Jesse Hite, Quincy Erickson and Arturo Palacios.
Anyone got wedding snaps?
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Coldplay’s Chris Martin in town?
Makes some sense. The band plays Houston tonight and Dallas on Wednesday.
Why didn’t the tour organizers add the Erwin Center on Monday or Thursday, making for a Texas triad? Women’s basketball is booked on both nights, for one.
Or has Coldplay grown too big for Austin? The smallest market on this leg of the arena tour is Salt Lake City with 2.7 million. (Central Texas: 1.5 million.)
I’d scour the city streets for reports of Coldplay artists sitting in with some local band last night, but it was Monday, after all, darkest night of the week. Tips?
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New Carnaval poster out
Heads up for collectors: The 2009 Carnaval Brasileiro poster is out, more than two months before the traditionally large, but well-behaved indoor party on Jan. 31.
Some might wish that the event was as provocative as the poster.
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Coffee With … J.B. & Sandy
Every class has its clown. A smart mouth. A wiseacre.
I don’t remember future radio jock J.B. Hager playing that role in my classroom.
Yet I distinctly recall his permanently crooked smile, noted while team-teaching Introduction to Theater at the University of Texas during the 1980s. You’d looked into his half-curious, half-worldly features and guess: This student is onto the joke. Not much will sneak past him in life.
They work — some listeners might not call it that — to make people smile during their highly competitive broadcast slot, which starts before most people make breakfast and ends before lunch. Yet they also try to do a little good along the way.
“We’re always looking for the funny angle,” Hager says. “We’ll flip-flop on any subject. For instance, on health insurance for Austin musicians, I’d say: ‘I play the comb, so do I get insurance?’”
“But then you know people come from all over the world to see these musicians,” McIlree interjects. “So maybe they should get some help.”
If Hager is the book-smart, rocker-cool class comedian, Sandy is his good-natured enabler, the one who often sneaks in the funnier line while nobody is paying attention. Hunched over midday coffee, the rumpled and slightly stooped J.B. still views the world warily, but with an indulgent glint in his eye and ready cackle for life’s ironies. Sandy, on the other hand, is like a big, shiny kid, his enormous head craned out with goofy amazement and a endless font of good will.
On air, they play tricks (once staging a casting call for a fake reality show called “Teen Momma: The Race to Get Pregnant”); they puncture hypocrisy (a recent target: people who move downtown then complain about the loud music); and interview guests from far and wide (last week, Alaska Gov. Sarah Palin called in to talk about her little-publicized Texas connections; Lance Armstrong and Austin Police Chief Art Acevedo have made popular appearances).
Read the rest of the interview on the jump…
But don’t accuse the duo of practicing shock talk, the filthy-mouthed, transcendent talk radio format of the 1980s and ‘90s that has since surrendered to industry overkill and FCC standards after the Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction.
““We all saw her nipple so we can’t be outrageous anymore,” Hager jokes. “In Austin, listeners get tired of that quickly anyway. If we ever get too blue, our listeners say, ‘Now, come on guys, take a step back.’”
“You can still go to a lot of towns and you can hear shock radio,” McIlree says. “It can be good for ratings but not for revenue. Advertisers don’t want to be associated with it.” While not exactly shocking, but Hager still wants “people to drop their jaw: ‘I can’t believe they just said that.’”
They’ve learned to stay away from political controversy.
“We don’t take a hard line on anything,” McIlree says. “We took hard lines in the past and we just got bitch-slapped for it. You realize you are in way over head in a savvy town like this. I’m just a ding-dong disc jockey. I don’t know what I’m talking about.” “If someone confronts us, we deny, deny, deny,” Hager says.
“They want to hear a tape of it, we say, we forgot to put it in the machine” McIlree says. “And we contradict ourselves,” Hager says. “We’ve gone to so far as just say, in the middle of an argument, OK let’s just switch sides and we’ll do it over again.”
Besides shock radio, changing music styles and ownership consolidation, the pair has survived the passing threats from Internet and satellite delivery systems in the 13 years of their “terrestrial radio” partnership.
“They were having the same conversations when the Walkman came out,” Hager says. “They said, ‘Oh, radio’s dead.’”
“Wall Street hasn’t liked us for a long time,” Sandy jokes. “But the radio business is good. 95 percent of people use radio on a daily basis. It works.”
The pair emphasizes the part radio plays in building local communities.
“We’ve always thought it was a responsibility to do stuff for the city,” McIlree says. “A few years ago a police officer was killed, run over, and we said we have to do something about this, I mean, this is a cop. And we went out on the streets to four different spots around the city. In just a few hours, we came up with just over $20,000 for her family. We can just do it.”
Besides raising money from others, they’ll donate from their own resources. “Last year, a mom sent us a frantic note: ‘My kid’s baseball team lost their sponsor.’” Hager says. “We jumped into his truck and went to Academy and bought them uniforms ourselves.”
“We did because we remembered what it was like when we were nine years old and having those crappy uniforms and all the other teams had the real thing,” Hager says, making sure they don’t sound too much like saps for a sad story.
It’s not always a trip to a discount store, either. They’ve raised more than $1 million for their favorite cause, Bikes for Kids, and funded a $750,000 room at the Dell Central Texas Children’s Medical Center, naming it for their late friend Kelly Davidson. Both jocks are married, McIlree for a second time. They used to hite the party scene hard, but that’s not easy when you rise for work before dawn.
“You feel like you’re missing something,” McIlree says. “Once you get over that, you’re really not missing a whole lot.
Now they are more likely to partake in grown-up leisure, like exploring Austin’s restaurants and shopping districts.
“I challenge myself to go to different places,” Hager says. “Now you have so many choices: Do I want to go to West Sixth or the Warehouse District or Red River or go East?” They’ve even warmed to The Domain, every populist’s favorite whipping boy. “I kept telling my wife that it closed down,” McIlree says. “It seemed so Dallas. But you know what it is? Disney for adult women.”
“And the restaurants are good,” Hager says, except it’s hard to find the freeway exit for the upscale center. “I just park on MoPac and walk.”
But wait, after an hour of frenetic conversation, the interviewer still hasn’t asked the standard questions.
McIlree is prepared anyway: “We wake up at 4:30 a.m.. We live in separate homes and live separate lives. We have separate dogs. We don’t do everything together. If you see me out without JB, that’s normal.”
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The Ear Candy 3: Vintage Cinema
“Film Music by Bernard Herrmann” Austin Symphony Orchestra conductor Peter Bay is a big Herrmann fan. So am I. Expressive music of the highest quality from “Citizen Kane” to “Taxi Driver.” Soundtracks of my life. “Psycho” is the headliner here, but there’s so much more, including the weirdly whistled theme to “Twisted Nerve.”
“The Essential Michael Legrand: Film Music Collection” Tinkling pianos. Aching strings. Sentiment and melancholy. More soundtrack of my life, or perhaps of my romantic adolescence: “The Umbrellas of Cherbourg,” “Summer of 42,” “The Thomas Crown Affair” I had almost forgotten the once ubiquitous “Brian’s Song.”
“Vintage Cinema” (Cincinnati Pops) — The big symphonic scores of epic movies, mostly from Hollywood’s Golden Era. The kind of shows you’d hit during a rainy matinee — and dream all week of Taurus Bulba or the Sea Hawk. Swept away in the tempest of images and sound.
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Featuring 2008 entertainment features
“Coffee and Quirks with Bud Cort” by Chris Garcia
“The Band You Never Heard Of” by Michael Corcoran
“Instant Coworkers” by Omar Gallaga
“29-Year-Old Music Company Owner Tries His Hand at Wine” by Addie Broyles
“Perfect Television Pairings in Honor of Valentine’s Day” by Diane Holloway
“How SXSW Parties Kick It VIP-Style” by Melanie Spencer
“Recyling Palmer into New Arts Center” by Jeanne Claire van Ryzin
“Bands Running on Empty” by Joe Gross
“The Man Outside the Party” by Michael Barnes
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Orbitz Salon Fashion Show at Club DeVille
Remember when Austin produced exactly one runway fashion show a year? Usually a frowsy deal from what was then called the Home Economics Department at the University of Texas. That was it. Nobody thought, “Hey, boys and girls, we can’t go to Fashion Week in Bryant Park, but let’s put on a show in the barn!”
Sarah Kim, Elle Park, Esti Choi from www.buydefinition.com (independent designers from around the world)
Blame “Project Runway” or Austin’s teeming style scene, but nowadays, not a week goes by without a runway parade. Which brings us to Orbit Salon’s Grit ‘n’ Glamour Fashion Show. Late Saturday, a mob gathered around Club DeVille’s outdoor stage to gawk at quirky urban styles from various hot local shops. Flashes crackled. Friends cheered. Apparel raced by all too quickly.
Stephen Andrews, Jenny Garcia
Here’s the deal: Of the 20 or so models, only three, maybe four, looked comfortable in their own skins on stage. They were cute, and, yes, the clothes often sizzled (including one eye-popping see-through number — girl, it was cold!). But darn it if the models didn’t rush from the spotlight as if the crowd was about to devour them live.
Emily Eisele, Dan Nelson
Relax. Luxuriate. Play. The consumer for an Austin fashion show is already pretty happy and indulgent. You look good. Feel good about it. Nothing makes us cringe more than watching people who would really rather not be watched.
Click here to view A-List photos from the show.
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Jeff Buckley Tribute at Lamberts
God bless Kristina Vallejo. Every year, the St. Edward’s University teacher and administrator organizes a Jeff Buckley tribute. No mere worship service for the late artist, it’s evolved into a community get-together, with local musicians and music-lovers gathered around the warm hearth of Buckley’s tunes.
Luckily, American-Statesman spark plugs Isadora Vail and Brandon Cobb were there to fill me in. Unluckily, I had reserved merely an hour for the tribute on a busy Saturday night, and the show started 90 minutes after I arrived (I should be used to this by now). So, adjusting my schedule, I heard a few songs and, the next day, downloaded “Grace,” Buckley’s only album completed in his lifetime, therefore the one maintaining full artistic integrity, according to Cobb.
I love being able to say this: I underestimated Buckley. Others may treat him with too much reverence because of his early death and ephemeral beauty. I’m just glad to be a johnny-come-lately. An oh yeah, I haven’t made an Alpha Rev reference so far this week. Indeed, as Reed Barrett of Baker Hotel points out: “Star of Wonder” is Alpha Rev’s “Hallelujah.”
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Martini, Steak, Bordeaux and … Bond?
Once a month, Kip and I ditch our public obligations for a quiet dinner and some non-social entertainment. Deciding late Sunday, it was to be a martini, a steak and the latest James Bond flick, improbably named “A Quantum of Solace.” After all, Daniel Craig’s redefined secret agent electrified us in “Casino Royale.”
So why not Perry’s, the Houston outfit that had just opened an enormous restaurant at Colorado and Seventh streets? Also not open on Sunday. Another oddity. Then I remembered Kip had never been to Ruth’s Chris Steakhouse, a place I’d enjoyed on several occasions. We were met at the door by general manager Sal Olivas, a big, gracious fella who knows how make you feel completely welcome without overdoing the hearty host bit.
Our waiter, Joe, brought ideally concocted martinis to our semi-circular booth near the back of the woody place, designed to fit the building’s art-deco appliques by Dick Clark. I ordered the oysters Rockefeller, Kip the crab cocktail, both generous, tasty portions, although I always forget the oysters lose their salty tang in a more complex dish like the Rockefeller. I chose the smallest steak, medium rare, Kip a ribeye, rare. Now what for wine? Joe recommended a reasonably priced Bordeaux — an unpresupposing Pauillac from Chateau Bellegrave 2000 that didn’t compete with the classically prepared steaks.
My bread pudding, more like a condensed coffee cake drizzled with heavenly hard sauce, cinched the deal: No Bond for us tonight. The entertainment was the meal itself. And for a special-occasion dinner and wine with all the trimmings, not a fatal price tag (under $200). Kip’s first Ruth’s Chris mellowed any hard edges remaining on the week.
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Blanton’s Smith Building Opening Party
After decades of delay, everything went just right one Sunday afternoon. The University of Texas’ art museum, first proposed in the 1970s, did not open the handsome galleries in the Michener Building until 2006. The subsidiary Smith Building — gift shop, cafe, auditorium, classrooms, etc. — waited for two and a half more years. Even still, many of the Blanton Museum of Art’s offices are not completed.
Helen and Rosalie Tack
Yet, as always with long-awaited projects, it didn’t seem to matter once the doors opened. Families flocked to the crisply finished stone and open atrium led to the promised shop and cafe, while upstairs waited the vertiginous, fan-shaped auditorium. Outside, the trapezoidal plaza sucked people up toward the former Jester Beach where the Guy Forsyth Band got toddlers to geriatrics syncopating.
Bep and Mitzi Markase
Behind the cafe counter was star chef Josh Watkins keeping a sharp eye on the latest addition to his University of Texas dining empire; he also oversees the four restaurants at the nearby UT hotel. (“How are they treating you?” “Oh, we’re busy, busy.” Interesting answer.) In the plaza, surrounded by visitors, was Blanton interim director Anne Wilson, probably sharing the phrase “gateway to the campus” a thousand times.
Jed Perl, Jonathan Bober
We tracked down Blanton master curator Jonathan Bober and The New Republic Art writer Jed Perl to the America/Americas galleries. Perl, urbane in a mod jacket, reported that, the previous night, he had purchased a basic Taco Cabana taco and a beer from the nearby convenience store, because Watson’s UT eateries closed earlier than his New York haunts. Not exactly what you expect to be discussing with the author of the richly textured and recently published “Antonie’s Alphabet: Watteau and His World.”
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Drag unseen at Spaghetti Warehouse; Fernet Branca at Starlite
The allure of drag dinner theater at the Spaghetti Warehouse was just too dishy to resist. Up to a point. I arrived at the appointed hour on Friday. The restaurant’s vestibule showed no signs of a theatrical engagement. The door to the banquet room was unmarked and the host seemed more interested in pointing me to a murder mystery that played on alternate nights rather than the family establishment’s historic first drag show.
Back to the banquet room. The players seemed ready, but not the food, which only started arriving in the form of salad bowls almost an hour after my first discussion with the host. So I sauntered across the street to cool my heels at Starlite’s bar. There, on the top shelf, I spied a bottle with a nondescript label reading: “Fernet Branca.” Light bulb moment.
The waiter poured me a tiny, bitter spot. Via iPhone, I shared with him the recent Atlantic story on the Italian amaro, a digestivo related to Campari. Here’s how jouranlist Wayne Curtis opened his article: “Your first sip of Fernet Branca, an Italian liqueur, will be akin to waking up in a foreign country and finding a crowd of people arguing in agitated, thorny voices outside your hotel window. It’s an event that’s at once alarming and slightly thrilling, and leaves you wanting to know more. Other than that, it’s hard to describe what Fernet Branca tastes like; it mostly tastes like Fernet Branca. But to give you an idea: in 1960, Betsy von Furstenberg was suspended from Actors’ Equity for spiking Tony Randall’s onstage drink with it. Randall believed he had been poisoned with iodine.” Read the entire story, linked above.
Revived, I returned to SW, only to find the mounds of the titular pasta arriving at diners’ tables, 90 minutes of waiting later. After sending my apologies backstage, I walked home, Fernet Branco warming my system. There will always be drag…
(Photo credit: Amy and Jonny Seponara-Sills for The Atlantic)
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Members Preview at Austin Museum of Art
Unlike Austin’s other vintage arts groups, Austin Museum of Art needs no help appealing to the smart set and to the young crowd. Once the exclusive domain of Old West Austin, supported by a trailblazing University of Texas art department, AMOA now easily attracts the cream of the Fortunate 500 — even shy literary noteworthies such as Sarah Bird — as well as urban artists and their urban converts.
George Jones, Sarah Bird
The big draw on Friday was sculptor Damian Priour, a champion socializer, whose “Chair Project” crowded into the south galleries. He has been attracting followers for three decades, while serving on the boards of multiple arts institutions. Justly, his fan club spans generations.
Joe Dickson, John Livingston
Equally alluring for other art lovers were the photographs of Sebastiao Salgado. The artist/journalist, working in elegiac black and white, records human physical labor on mammoth projects like dams, factories and, famously, the ship breakers of Bangladesh. Every one of these poised images is worth serious reflection. Spend some time at AMOA.
Clayton Fry, Natania Morrissey
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Help Clifford Help Kids at Austin Music Hall
What recession? Sure, some charities have postponed their fundraising events, hoping for healed financial prospects by spring. Yet it seems some causes are worth supporting no matter how far the economy plunges into the tank.
John Paul DeJoria, Susan Antone, Mayor Will Wynn, Olga Campos, Eloise DeJoria
Help Clifford Help Kids, which started as a community service project by the great music promoter, Clifford Antone, has grown exponentially, thanks in part to his surviving sister Susan Antone. She’s an enthusiastic backer of American Youthworks, the alternative education group that benefits from this annual party.
Abe Zimmerman, Evonne Atlas
Jack McDonald, who, along with wife Carla, won a huge crystal vase to commemorate their “Cliffy Award,” reported that the event grossed $250,000, which is all the more remarkable because the organizers keep costs low at the Austin Music Hall. Net will probably come out to $200,000, a substantial chunk of the downtown school’s budget.
Blake Rocap, Nisha Rocap
It helps when billionaire John Paul DeJoria is on stage playing auctioneer, spicing the bids with extra goodies. He and wife Eloise have more than proven their commitment to their adopted community. Add a hot set by Delbert McClinton and the Music Hall’s tailoring for such events, and you have, once again, one of the year’s best galas. Even in a recession.
Bill Shands, Megan Breitenwischer
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Social reporting at the Props 6 & 8 protests
A social report on two protests.
In 1977, I witnessed the Houston march and vigil protesting an appearance by anti-gay activist Anita Bryant and her support of initiatives which culminated in California’s Proposition 6, unsuccessfully attempting to ban gay teachers in 1978.
Austin. Nov. 15, 2008
Blackest night. Humid. Candlelight. Clones, cowboys and sweater queens. Angry chants. A phalanx of riot police at City Hall. Rousing speeches. Disappointment over losing votes, but a sense that change was in the air.
It was. Five years later, Kathy Whitmire was elected Houston mayor, backed by a huge turnout in the predominantly gay Montrose neighborhood. It was a generational groundswell as much as anything else.
Austin. Nov. 15, 2008
Thirty-one years later, I witnessed the Austin rally protesting the passage of California’s Proposition 8, successfully — for now — banning gay marriages.
Brightest day. Blustery. Fluttering flags. Kids, dogs and Vespas. Confident chants. No police in sight at City Hall. Rousing speeches. Disappointment over losing votes, but a sense that change was in the air.
Austin. Nov. 15, 2008
It remains to be seen if the social capital engendered by the nationwide protests against the passage of Proposition 8 today will cancel out the bitterness about those who fought against marriage equality. But social observers agree, a generational groundswell will be the deciding factor, as much as anything else.
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GoGear Party at 601 Brushy St. Lofts
Lifestyle marketing fascinates me. Making an end run around traditional advertising, lifestyle marketers target “influencers” with product samples, associative scenes and social opportunities. Austin has always been high on the list for this kind of contagion. One of the first national brands to build on lifestyle marketing here was Corona, banking off the regional appeal of, first, Lone Star, then Shiner. It worked.
Aaron “Deezel” DeSimone, Jake Rick, Rick Pfromm
Philips, the electronics giant, is marketing GoGear players, its answer to iPods, to local influencers. They’ve rented a four-level loft on Brushy Street, just east of Interstate 35, and retained the services of a crack event-planning team. Over the next weeks, they plan a series of parties, and a contest pitting “undiscovered” bands filtered through their players.
Jill Sorrels, Garret Mauer (DJ GMau)
The loft is impressive. The first floor, where the garage would go, is like a patio cool-down area. The second is a bar. The third the GoGear Lounge, where on can test the products — the sound reproduction is amazing! — and a food area. The roof is the best, a party and performance area with a stunning view of downtown. A young crowd circulated up and down the loft on Friday for a party organized by our friends at Do512.
Jake Holt, Courtney White
Savvy-beyond-her-years Jil Sorrels chose the bands — The Canvas Waiting, Harlem, Neiliyo, Stormshadow and Yardira Brown. (“Undiscovered means they haven’t played a room bigger than Emo’s inside.”) Perfectionist Ali Cox organized all the other organizers. I met her at the South Padre Island International Music Festival preview party at the Belmont. Within limits, I’d follow her to any party.
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2:30 p.m. today: Live Chat with Kristina Vallejo, Richard “Duke” Chalmers & Shilpa Bakre
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Guest bogger Mackenzie Jenkins: Strut on First Thursday
Guest blogger (and St. Ed’s student) Mackenzie Jenkins writes about Strut in Day by Day with Mack.
For some reason I always seem to miss First Thursday on South Congress. The fact that it is the first Thursday of the month slips my mind, or I have already made prior arrangements. Either way, I had not experienced one of Austin’s special little gems.
This time I remembered.
I was sitting in class Thursday afternoon, doing an in class exercise involving interviews of our fellow classmates. It’s supposed to help us become comfortable with asking complete strangers personal and intrusive questions about their lives. Fortunately I was spared any awkwardness this time because I got paired up with the one person out of our entire class that I actually knew.
During my mock interview with Tristan, it dawned on me. For the very first time I ACTUALLY recalled the date. Even better, I still had time to drive across the street to Strut and maybe, actually, finally, have the chance to buy something that was discounted for a change.
Luckily this day I had no prior obligations, so right after class I rushed with a smile on my face and my wallet full of cash ready to be spent on first Thursday souvenirs from Strut. Of course, since everybody else typically remembers to do their shopping on First Thursday, there were no parking spots in the designated lot, so I had to settle for a spot in front of a house in a neighborhood not too far from the store.
Once I finally arrived at the doors of the little white store, it was clear that I was not the only one who remembered the date. The place was packed. I looked around for a while but after I saw the long lines to the dressing rooms it was clear that my patience was not going to hold up for long. The employee in charge of getting shoe sizes was moving particularly speedy so I figured it was my best bet. I decided on a pair of strappy black heels and made my way to the jewelry section. The jewelry area was another place less crowded with shoppers. I picked out a pair of gold hoops and headed for check out.
I’m still not sure if I needed either of the items, but the fact that I bought them on First Thursday is what makes it all worth it.
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The Ear Candy 3: The Chemical Brothers, John Adams, Conspirare
I give up. No more extended CD reviews for Out & About. Just doesn’t work. So I’m taking a page from Matt Dentler’s inspired blog. He publishes a frequent feature: “Five New Albums Worth Your Dime.” Well, CDs, even at Cheapo, cost more than a dime. So I’m going with “The Ear Candy 3.” Yeh, it’s close to the name of a Seattle critic’s blog, a magazine and musical equipment company. But not everything can be original. And titles are exempt from copyrights and trademarks.
Conspirare/Tarik O’Regan: “Threshold of Night.” Can we come up for a new word for “haunting”? O’Regan’s compositions escape like scents from a warm room. Craig Hella Johnson’s Austin-based choir floats along with each suggestive, mostly melancholy atmospheric.
John Adams: “A Flowering Tree.” This opera in two acts, based on a South Indian tale, returns the masterful California composer to his most dramatic and decorative, at the same time. Recalls as much Zemlimsky and Mahler as much as his minimalist roots or his Asian influences.
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Update: Oscar Brockett
Brock, as he is known, now retired, is 85. For the past year, he’s been in and out of the hospital. I caught up with him last night in his condo overlooking downtown Austin. And Brock proved as lively as ever, his color good and his mood upbeat. He’s about to complete another book, this one on theater design, always a time of relief for the prolific author.
I can tell he misses going out. For years, he’d accompany me to movies or theater once every week or so. Brock also socialized graciously, helping out with the annual Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner events staged by the Spice Boys for Project Transitions, for instance. Let’s hope his health improves enough, so that he can partake in his beloved Austin more fully soon.
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Me: Mother Ginger 7:30 p.m. Dec. 23
It’s official. I’m a Mother Ginger. To witness my humiliation, purchase tickets for the 7:30 p.m. Dec. 23 performance of Ballet Austin’s “The Nutcracker” at the Long Center.
But I’m not alone. Look at the list of notables who have done the Mother Ginger deed: Michael Dell, Rich Oppel, Joe Sears, John Kelso, Lance Armstrong, Ann Richards, Ray Benson, Luci Baines Johnson, Evan Smith, Lloyd Doggett, Robert Rodriguez, Larry Faulkner, Molly Ivins, Carole Keeton Strayhorn, Mike Laosa, Kinky Friedman, Peter Bay, Kevin Rollins, Shawn Colvin, Joe Long, Richard Buckley, Turk Pipkin, Sarah Butler, Marcia Ball, Karen Kuykendall, John Paul Dejoria, Mayor Will Wynn.
Photo: Gwyneth Muller ’s outtake of Justin Peck as Mother Ginger at the New York City Ballet. Wish I looked that good in old lady drag.
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Weekend Out Live Chat with Kristina Vallejo, Richard “Duke” Chalmers & Shilpa Bakre
Help write the latest chapter in the Out & About story.
You, too, can join the discussion. Just return to this blog Friday afternoon a bit before 2:30 p.m. Page down to the big dialogue box. Read the instructions and register. Then chat.
Each Thursday or Friday — depending on what works best for Out & About readers — we’ll invite guests to tell us where they are going, whom they hope to meet and what’s really happening on Austin’s social scene.
Thanks to other readers who volunteered for the first assignment. We’ll have plenty of weekends to discuss in the future.
Photo courtesy of Kristina’s Facebook profile.
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From Prop 6 to Prop 8 and ‘Milk’
By agreement with the movie’s promoters, we won’t say much about the powerful Harvey Milk biopic, “Milk,” starring astonishing chameleon Sean Penn. Look for local and national reviews Nov. 26 and an Austin opening Dec. 5.
Also, a good chunk of the movie is devoted to Milk’s fight against California’s Proposition 6, which would have excluded any gay person — or anyone who supported them — from teaching in the state’s schools. The campaigns, debates and protests strongly resemble the ongoing clash on marriage equality embodied in the recently passed Proposition 8.
For a taste of the movie’s milieu from the 1970s — and how the scene has changed — there’s a Prop 8 protest at City Hall 12:30 p.m. Saturday. Similar gatherings are planned for Houston and Dallas to coincide with a national event.
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Your A-List, Best Burger
The top four mouth-watering slots were spaced pretty closely: P Terry’s (17 percent), Phil’s Ice House (16 percent), Hut’s (14 percent) and Casino El Camino (13 percent). The next three were also very close calls — Top Notch, Dan’s and Dirty Martin’s - coming in just under 7 percent.
Hill’s trailed (surprisingly) with just 3 percent. Taking 2 percent or less were Shady Grove, Roaring Fork, Hillbert’s, Fran’s, Hyde Park Bar & Grill, Sandy’s, Frisco Shop and Freddie’s Place. (Now, I’m not just hungry, I’m burger crazed.)
Write-ins: Artz, Aussie’s, Chez Zee, Crown and Anchor, Dona Emilia’s, Five Guys, Mighty Fine, Mike’s Pub, Parkside, Waterloo Ice House
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Your A-List, Best New Restaurant
No. 2 on the list is actually an oldie revived: Paggi House, located on Riverside Drive in one of the city’s oldest buildings. Now overshadowed on two sides by condos, it’s still a pleasant retreat and won 15 percent of the vote. The Good Knight, the latest outing from the owners of Beerland and Rio Rita, continues the improvement of dining choices along what we are calling East East Sixth. It took 12 percent.
The other candidates — Lulu B’s, Olivia, Cuatros, Corazon, Kenobi, Maria Maria, Moonlight, Sago, Shuggie’s, Trio, Perry’s, Mulberry, Yume Sushi, Crave — each earned 5 percent or less. Of course, some have been open mere days, so there’s time to welcome all these foodie freshmen.
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Menu change at Azul Tequila + very Austin chat
Located in a strip mall next to a Target, Azul Tequila is one of Austin’s many semi-submerged foodie treasures. Never had a bad meal there. And it’s location near the intersection of Ben White and Lamar boulevards is mighty convenient if you live anywhere in South Austin.
We ate there with dear half-Mexican friends Suzie and Randy Harriman. (Half-Mexican because they spend six months or so there, six months or so in Austin.) Later, lounging in their art-graced home off South Congress Avenue, we talked deep into the evening about subjects that come up everywhere I go: The state of the Statesman (fine, thank you, thanks to new media wizardry and sound business practices); the remains of the Republican Party (libertarian, business and neocon wings likely to part ways with social conservatives); and travel (the endless education).
Couldn’t ask for a lovelier evening.
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Weekend Out: Steady as It Goes
After rushing back into the social scene last weekend, I’m going to take it easy. Still, plenty of socializing to choose from.
Friday: “Workers: Photographs by Sebastiao Salgado & The Texas Chair Project by Damian Priour” Preview Party at Austin Museum of Art; La Cage Dinner Theater with Saffire Trinity at Spaghetti Warehouse
Saturday: 8th Annual Jeff Buckley Tribute Concert at Lambert’s; Orbit Salon’s “Grit n’ Glamour” Fashion Show at Club DeVille; “Stark, Loud and Brazen, meets Slow, Loud and Bangin’” hosted by Matt Sonzala at the Beauty Bar
Sunday: Opening of the Blanton Museum of Art’s Smith Building with TNR art writer Jed Perl
We’ll split off the early-week events for a later posts.
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Late catching the MP3 train
A full 10 years after the MP3 phenomenon gathered musical steam, I jumped on board. (Does anyone appreciate that I used a 19th-century locomotive expression to describe a 21st-century phenomenon?)
I was not completely ignorant of the digital music format. By accident, I had uploaded CDs into my iTunes Music component. That was convenient, up to a point. But I already owned the CDs, and I’m not an iPod kind of guy. Music players abound in every space I occupy.
Still, I had never purchased an MP3 at the iTunes Store or Amazon or anywhere else. Until today. That’s when Monica at the Barton Creek Apple Store melted my intimidation over a process that everyone under 50 must enjoy on a regular basis.
I purchased one song for 99 cents, then synced my MacBook Air with my iPhone. Viola! Ten years late, but now a part of the game.
The first song? I’ll let you guess. Three cues: “V.L.V.” A band that sounds like my favorite Austin acts of the moment. Toyota Center in Houston.
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Guest blogger Danielle Bauman: Never a Carrie Bradshaw?
Guest blogger (and St. Ed’s student) Danielle Bauman mourns the loss of a dream in Whats Good.
Carrie’s days are spent writing about her escapades on her lap top while simultaneously explaining the idiosyncrasies of female and male genders. At night she trots out of her trendy brownstone and gallivants whimsically to fabulous night clubs around Manhattan with her three girlfriends, while spending exorbitant amounts of money, and looks fabulous doing it. She also feeds a designer fetish for shoes, which she indulges on almost every episode.
I asked myself “Who wouldn’t want to live like this?”
Sadly, however, that is not the sassy lifestyle awaiting my departure from the St. Edwards English program. I almost feel like I was lied to, a vicious slap in the face of my reality dished out by HBO and affiliates.
Most journalists struggle, are underpaid, and are definitely not living the social high life in the Big Apple. (Who was paying for all those shoes and cosmos on a columnist’s salary?) As crushing as this realization this was for me, I remain on my current track. I may not ever become Carrie Bradshaw but maybe I’ll be successful enough to get a condo in downtown Austin, or at least be able to afford my rent from month to month.
Carrie, see what you’ve done?
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Guest blogger Mandy Odgers: Heartbreak at the Texas Renaissance Festival
Guest blogger (and St. Ed’s student) Mandy Odgers contributes this entry about a Texas autumnal tradition in The Wonderful, Wondering, Wandering Mind of Mandy. (And, yes, that’s Mandy in glorious costume.)
The Festival, held for eight weeks every fall in Plantersville takes you back to the 16th Century for mirth and merriment. The familiar set-up is this: King Henry VIII is visiting New Market England, and the town scurries to open their finest shops, cook their most decadent foods and provide the most exciting entertainment. It just so happens that people from the modern world can walk into their world to be a part of the excitement.
For three years I was a part of this celebration — portraying a French princess. I laugh about it today, but admit that though the festival is pure illusion, there is a sort of magic that looms over it. It was by far the best job I ever had.
Keeping up with the created tradition of “RenFest,” I made the yearly visit over the recent Halloween weekend with my family. The shows were all there, the food was accounted for, the shops were full, but there was a difference this year: no magic. I was disappointed.
The performances by both sidewalk and stage performers, which I hold dearest to heart, were far below the standard I uphold. There was no mirth. No merriment. What was once a place for escape — leaving your century for another one that held so much fantasy — was replaced with something out of a brochure. The performers were mannequins for well-sewn costumes; their job seemed to be leading you to the nearest shop to buy memories, instead of having them.
Or had I changed? Were my eyes no longer misty with the time-traveling magic? Either way, honestly, I was heartbroken.
At its best, the Renaissance Festival emits a sort of joyous feeling: You are in a different place, allowed to be a different person, and immerse yourself into another century. But when the performers aren’t helping you along, it makes it harder to differentiate a moment from just an hour at a theme park. It just wasn’t the same.
Photo of Mandy Odgers performing at the festival: All rights reserved, 2005, Gregory L. Jones.
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Strake Jesuit never goes away
Do you receive mailings from your high school? I do. Every week.
Let me explain. I attended Strake Jesuit College Preparatory in Houston. Highest intellectual standards. But also part of an oligarchical strategy for sweeping the elite into the arms of the Catholic Church.
So how do the Jesuits manage a $12 million annual operating budget and continue to build as if Strake was a red-hot MBA program? I’m curious because I cover scores of charitable groups as social columnist, and many of them could learn from this fundraising juggernaut.
They turn to donors. Lots. Most of those come from alumni who graduated in small classes since 1965. The overwhelming majority live in Texas, and those mostly in the Houston area.
And the school tracks alumni like bounty hunters. I receive more slick, sophisticated mailers from Strake Jesuit than from all my other associations combined. And, sadly, I’ve still not given them a dime.
Well, they’re always building more athletic facilities for winning teams — Strake and its Dallas counterpart were among the first private schools admitted into the University Interscholastic League. They play with the big boys.
Not that I mind, but the ex-jocks who run the alumni groups already know how to appeal to school spirit. (I don’t donate to UT’s athletic foundation either — and I’m a dyed-in-orange fan. They print money.)
Jesuits never seem to honor teachers who I admired or fund programs I’d love to see encouraged. (On the other hand, congrats to national champion debater Todd Lupfert (‘09) and his coach Jerry Crist. Jesuits were always good at debate.)
Michael Barnes (‘72) admires the school’s gumption and Barack Ombama-level organizational skills, but no sale. Yet.
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Andy Roddick says nude tennis lesson offer a joke
During Elton John’s Advanta World Team Tennis Smash, Roddick first auctioned off a private lesson, then upped the ante with a shirtless lesson, then went all the way with the promise of a clothing-free lesson. The item went for almost $15,000.
(Reminds us of the Andy Roddick Foundation gala last year, when Elton John raised more than $400,000 by expanding his offer, during the live auction, for private dinners at his several homes. Multiple bidders pooled their resources for the astounding take.)
Not so fast about that nude thing. Roddick insists it was all a joke. “First and foremost, I am not going to be playing naked tennis,” he told Contactmusic. “It was said in jest and the lady who bid was really cool afterwards.”
Now, all our sources are online reports, so we are seeking more specific comment from the Roddick camp.
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Linda Eder, Marvin Hamlisch set for Long Center party
It’s not until March 26, but it’s worth planning ahead. Oscar-winning composer Marvin Hamlisch and big-voiced belter and sometime Houstonian Linda Eder will top the bill, along with a 32-piece orchestra.
Heading up the gala: Eva Womack — a great sport at the “Cinderella” opening — and Candace Partridge, supported by Sandy Ball, Helen Baxter, Kat Brooks, Linda Bush, Gloria Evans, Maria Groten, Richard Hartgrove, Wendi Kushner, Joanna Linden, Susan Lubin, Marcy Melanson, Martha Moore, Forrest Preece, Margot Smith and Connie Webb.
Tickets are pricey, but not the priciest in town: $250 for singles. Tables for 10 now available for $10,000, $5,000 or $2,500. For tickets or information, contact Jennifer Bengali at 457-5119.Permalink | Comments (0) | Post your comment
Sarah Evans: Creating a Twitter community
This information arrived via various social media filters, but it’s worth noting the ongoing evolution of Twitter etiquette.
Media Bistro sent us to this Mashable site that lists tips for creating a Twitter community. Sarah Evans, director of communications at Elgin Community College in Elgin, Ill., penned the advice, such as creating a user-friendly name, searching for people to follow, learning the lingo, reaching out to people and keeping your general Tweets general (rather than directed at a particular follower — that what @ is for).
She’s particularly good at distinguishing when to use the @ function and when to use DM (direct message). Evans on one of my pet peeves, using @ for: “A conversation which will consist of multiple “tweets” or a lengthy discussion with more than three posts. (Many people on Twitter will “unfollow” someone who sends multiple “tweets” in a row. Trust me.)”
Read Evans PR and social media blog sometime.
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Choosing the next Glossy 8
Perhaps you recall Carla McDonald, posing pertly in her sparkling cocktail dress and rose-tipped shoes. Or perhaps Anne Elizabeth Wynn stood out in her low-cut, vibrant turquoise with leather cinch and fishnet hose. Or maybe your memory settles on a striking couple, Gail Chovan and Evan Voyles, effortlessly relaxed in their cool SoCo black.
The Glossy 8, your selections for the best-dressed Austinites, electrified the October edition of this publication.
Soon after, the Glossy staff sat down to comb through the nominations and select winners who represented a broad cross-section of Austin style. It wasn’t easy. And perhaps you will realize why if you take up our invitation to help select the next Glossy 8.
Who stands out in a crowd? Who leads Austin fashion in new directions or maintains standards for more traditional wear? Better yet, who belongs on the cover of Glossy in 2009?
We want to know. The sooner, the better. If you arrive home tonight after an especially memorable evening and think, “Wow. Madame X always wears exactly the right outfit. Wait, shouldn’t she rate the Glossy 8?” It’s best not to recycle this year’s winners. After all, they already set some pretty high fashion standards. Instead, give us a new set to ponder as we anticipate Glossy 8 2009.
Send your nominations to mbarnes@statesman.com with a short testimonial.
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Mixing it up for the Golden Hornet Project
When Victoria Corcoran says attend to an event, I attend. Questions can wait. Still, when I showed up at her South Austin home, on Sunday, I wasn’t quite sure what was in store. After all, the development consultant for nonprofits collects such a varied group of friends, matching her eclectic cultural tastes, which run from punk and rock to jazz and classical. (The woman knows more about contemporary art than almost anyone else in town.) So we all pulled up our chairs to find out what the afternoon had in store.
Landscape designer Jeff Neal and management consultant Barbara Engel
“You are here because you love music,” she told the 20 or so guests, which included philanthropist and National Instruments leading light Jeff Kodoksy and visionary projectionist Luke Savisky (who just won a Creative Capital grant for a project in Marfa), as well as board members from groups Corcoran advises.
Luke Savisky, Paige Swift
We listened to snippets of music by Graham Reynolds and Peter Stopschinski of the Golden Hornet Project. They are assembling the creative elements for their next set of symphonies, set for May 2 as part of the Fusebox Festival. These founders of Austin’s underground classical scene — both from rocker backgrounds — presented recorded and live music with effortlessly dry wit.
Graham Reynolds, Victoria Corcoran, Catarina Sigerfoos, Jeff Kodosky
If you want to back the symphonies in the making — the sixth for both of them — I’m sure Victoria will find a way for you to help.
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Feeling like Cinderella at ALO’s ‘Cinderella’
I remember 35 years ago, pressing my nose against the metaphorical glass at the Metropolitan Opera, watching people in gowns and tuxes dine in the lobby just before the curtain. I didn’t really want to dress up, but dinner would have been nice.
Susan Gatlin, Eva Womack
Watching the upper classes enjoy their perquisites didn’t alter my enjoyment of the operas (first two at the Met were Richard Strauss’ “Salome” and Richard Wagner’s “Tristan und Isolde.”) I never really thought much about that kind of privilege in an artistic setting. I figured the smart set made it possible, through their donations, for somebody on a student’s budget to see the world’s greatest art form on the world’s biggest stage.
Andrew Heller, Mary Ann Heller, Karen Landa
Saturday night, I felt like Cinderella crashing the ball as I sat among Austin’s glitterati in the Kodosky Donor Lounge at the Long Center before Austin Lyric Opera’s “Cinderella.” Strangely enough, I didn’t feel out of place. A lot of that had to do with the company. Across the table was always glamorous, but always down to earth Karen Landa, as well as the golden couple, Larry Connelly and James Armstrong.
Michael Morrow, Laura Legett
Kip and I were flanked by two of our favorite dining partners: Investor and former state Sen. Joe Christie and his accomplished wife Tana. Name a subject, and the two can tell stories, from the politics of late Gov. Preston Smith to the kind of woodpeckers nesting in their West Austin gardens. Originally for El Paso, they love Marfa, and are planning to join the Eugene Sepulveda caravan for New Year’s Eve out there.
Nina Seely, Wendi Kushner, Frank Seely
The opera? We’ve always smiled for Rossini’s take on the tale. Charming music, sweet comedy. And ALO’s artistic team seemed to know all the soft spots in a production updated to Hollywood in the 1930s. We won’t quibble with some misdirections, but instead say it’s the best ALO version of a standard opera in quite some time. Under three top leaders, the company seems to have always excelled at new or modern pieces, or sometimes radical updates, having more trouble just making the core repertoire fresh. This “Cinderella” should stay in the rep.
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Deep into Royal Memorial Stadium
The expanded Royal Memorial Stadium is so large it generates its own weather patterns. A cool breeze will brush your face, coming from the north, which you know is impossible, since that side of the stadium is completely impounded by a U-shaped structure the size of the Roman Coliseum, Circus Maximus and several other massive monuments put together. Then you notice that some seating sections had just passed into shade. The temperature change alone is enough to produce wind.
“I’m shooting for 500,” he said, predicting he will be in his 60s. Wilson has also attended 20 years of Horns baseball games, missing only thrice. How can he get away with this? “I negotiate the deal every time I take a new job,” says the in-house counsel for the group that provides employee insurance for small Texas municipalities.
You may have read of good-natured Wilson in John Kelso’s columns. (I once lost a bet with him by proxy. He copped a case of Lone Star.) Wilson says he’s a “pop-off artist” and one assumes some of his material ends up in Kelso’s column, just as it will in mine.
“Don’t put me on the society pages,” Wilson pleads. Too late, buddy.
My other constant companion in Section 2, Row 40 was an adorable, extremely active 5-year-old in a black, orange and white cheerleader outfit. She restlessly moved from row to row, practicing her cheers, picking up on ambient opinion, squeaking once: “Die, Baylor, Die!”
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Guest blogger Jen Obenhaus: Bill Bishop at St. Ed’s
Guest blogger Jen Obenhaus writes about a local reporter done good in Le Fou.
“The Big Sort” is a big hit. The book, authored by Austin’s own Bill Bishop, received critical plaudits when it was published in spring 2008. Bishop has made appearances on “The Daily Show with Jon Stewart”and was praised by former president Bill Clinton.
Bishop visited St. Edward’s University recently where he discussed his book and answered questions from university students, faculty, and staff. Bishop’s writing talents, as well as impressive knowledge of this topic, made for an entertaining, insightful evening.
Bishop was introduced by friend Alan Altimont, an English literature professor, who had nothing but high praises for his friend and former colleague. Bishop began the presentation by showing a slide of photographs taken from around the country and asked the audience if the pictures seemed to portray a Republican or Democratic community. After a few laughs (especially at the picture of a statue of a woman in a bathtub in someone’s yard in Austin that clearly showed a more liberal neighborhood) Bishop continued with his discussion. He displayed easy-to-understand charts and graphs that demonstrated his points very clearly.
During the Q&A portion of the night, Bishop did an outstanding job of engaging his audience. When asked questions regarding his opinion on particular matters, Bishop would ask, “Well, what do you think? You are the generation most affected by this right now. How do you feel about this?” He was able to engage the audience with coming off at all as unintelligent on the subject or phony — as some speakers tend to do; he was genuinely interested in what the college-aged adults had to say and what their concerns were. He would continue a conversation with the individual who asked the question and would ask questions of others for additional input. He made the Q&A session feel far more like an intellectual discussion, which certainly helped in understanding the materials he presents in “The Big Sort.”
You can find out more at his Web site, where there are more book reviews, biographies, and further information. Also, enjoy the video of Bishop’s visit with Stewart (to no surprise— it’s quite funny).
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Guest blogger Celeste Diaz: ‘17 Kids and Counting’ on TLC
Guest blogger Celeste Diaz writes about new TLC reality show on Valletta.
But get real TLC! The brand new show, “17 Kids and Counting,” is just out of control. This brand new reality series follows around the Duggars, a conservative Baptist family from Tontitown, Ark. with 17 children (and one on the way).
I’ll let you process that for a second.
One woman. 17 kids: Joshua, Jana, John-David, Jill, Jessa, Jinger, Joseph, Josiah, Matthew, Joy-Anna, Jeremiah, Jedidiah, Jason, James, Justin, Jackson, Johannah, Jennifer.
Of course, it makes good television. I get that. But when you are watching “Jon and Kate Plus 8,” you understand how stressful having eight children can be; however, when I’m watching “17 Kids and Counting,” all I can think about is where is the chaos, the stress, the “Ajin” moments?
No family can be that calm and put together. I’ll just have to finish the rest of the season and pray for some sort of meltdown.
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Overdoing it on the road to recovery
I thought my first weekend back on the social circuit would be quiet. Six events in three days. Nothing over the top.
Patricia Fraga, Clay Smith
Yet a business lunch turned into a surprise party and a dinner fundraiser had me scurrying around, skipping the food while reporting on the movie biggies in attendance. A final party for that evening sounded, on invitation, like a small, relaxing backyard do. A little wine and snacks. A little literary chat.
Zach Briue, Norah Brendel, Caroline Stewart
Yet the combined birthday party for Texas Book Festival literary director Clay Smith and his friends John Livingston and Linnea Toney turned into a certified frolic. Tables overflowed with refreshments. Dozens of attractive, conversant guests spilled from the Hyde Park bungalow into the backyard, where a tent stood left over from the TBF.
Margo Rabb, ZZ Parker
It was a gorgeous night. But the combination of post-heart-procedural weakness and the false contentment of social bliss masked a wobbly reentry into the public sphere. I dialed it back for the rest of the weekend and resolved to take the socializing at a more moderate pace for the foreseeable future.
Ben Slade, Anais Murphy
Which takes nothing away from Smith and Co.’s splendid hosting. I clearly was not ready for such social intensity.
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Momentous night at Spaghetti Western
Something changed last night. The Central Texas movie industry grew up. After 20 years of making films that entertained the world, movie makers sat down to dinner, listened to speakers and mingled for a cause.
Richard Linklater, Robert Rodriquez
The cause? Promoting industry-friendly legislation in Texas. Directors like Richard Linklater, Mike Judge and Robert Rodriguez, producers like Elizabeth Avellan and hundreds of actors, designers and crew members have watched their livelihoods slip away to New Mexico and Louisiana because of heavy incentives on the other side of our borders.
Chris Mattsson, Jane Scheweppe, Deborah Green
On a crisp November night, these and hundreds more gathered at the Adam Wooley’s miraculous Star Hill Ranch for a Spaghetti Western fundraiser. The event’s primary organizer, Jeannette Scott, told me they raised almost $70,000 for the Texas Motion Picture Alliance’s lobbying efforts. That’s way more than the $20,000 the Dallas region raised at their first such event.
Alex Smith, Dana Wheeler-Nicholson
VIPs hung out in one of Star Hill’s fully functional historical buildings (unlike some other Old West towns, this one on Hamilton Pool Road is as devoted to interiors as to exteriors). Mayor Will Wynn led the political delegation and Rep. Dawnna Dukes. Luminaries included philanthropists Chris Mattsson and Jane Schweppe, social all-stars Deborah Green along with Carol and Chris Adams, Zilker Summer Musical backers Pati and Bruce McCandless, Asleep at the Wheel’s Ray Benson, newscaster Michelle Valles, Villa Muse honcho Paul Alvarado-Dykstra, Alamo Drafthouse’s Karrie League (the Alamo gang prepared the food and screenings).
Nancy Mims, Rodney Gibbs
More notables: game-maker Rodney Gibbs, Hollywood-to-Austin writer Paul Ehrmann, fabric designer Nancy Mims, Spiderwood Studios owner Tommy G. Warren, filmmaker Alex Smith (one half of the Smith brother team of writer/directors) and actress Dana Wheeler-Nicholson (“Fletch,” “Friday Night Lights,” “W.”)
Elizabeth Avellan, Karrie League, Paul Ehrmann
Seated out on the main street, which was just as dazzling, were actors Diane and Marco Perella, “Midlife Gals” Kelly and Sally Jackson, and many more. The were all there to ensure a future for film making in Central Texas.
Marco Perella, Diane Perella
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Imagine my surprise …
When I arrived at Sullivan’s for lunch with Mary Herr Tally and Nina Seely, I planned to order a quick salad. All the better to discuss, briskly and efficiently, whichever fun, charitable event the two social sprites had in mind. That’s what I assumed — we’d discuss the who, what, when, where of some grand party in the future.
Looking a little too Audrey Hepburn for a business lunch, they waved me to the back of Sullivan’s. I thought we were checking out the banquet facilities for a fundraiser, and noted from a distance that the long table had been set for lunch. Wait … is that Carla McDonald and Anne Elizabeth Wynn behind the door? And what are Maria Groten and Gail Chovan doing here?
It was a surprise birthday party — a month late. Didn’t see that coming.
After recovering from the initial shock, I realized just what a sweet group had gathered in this wood-paneled room. Small, thoughtful gifts waited in shiny bags, along with a king-sized urn full of Jelly Bellies. Lunch proceeded — everyone ordered the peppery, herbal salmon at a steakhouse! — and we caught up on the gossip, medical and otherwise.
Gracious as it was, I wouldn’t mind if this affair was the last surprise party of my life. Yet if what progressed at Sullivan’s was the first and last, it was certainly the way I’d have it — an intimate circle of friends and acquaintances, including Larry Connelly, Ava Late, Susan Lubin and Andrea McWilliams. (I understand that Karen Landa, Kate Hersch, Venus Strawn, Joanie Bentzin, Margaret Krasovec, Karen Hawkins, Linda McCaull, MP Mueller, Ronda Grayronda, Wendi Kushner, Chris Hester and Lance Avery Morgan had hoped to drop in. I won’t betray the name of their secret society.)
Who could ask for anything more?
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Off the couch in the fastest time
Social columnists don’t make the best medical patients. I tried to learn as much as I could about all the St. David’s personnel last week before and after my heart procedure. Can’t remember a thing, because anesthesia wiped about 48 hours (mercifully) from my memory.
My seven days of internment on the couch are over. I lunch today at Sullivan’s with fashion and charity stars Mary Herr Tally and Nina Seely. Then I visit the newsroom at 1 p.m. for the first time in more than a week to face a mountain of mail, e-mail and reminders. (Of course, I’ve kept up with most of the e-mail, or else I couldn’t face the task.)
By 4 p.m., I’ll post a social schedule for the weekend.
Already on the books: the Spaghetti Western fundraiser for the Texas Motion Picture Association, thanks to set decorator and surprise leader Jeannette Scott; a backyard byob birthday party for Texas Book Festival’s Clay Smith; a single seat at the low-key football game pitting UT against Baylor, using John Kelso’s unused ticket; a dinner, opera and party for Austin Lyric Opera’s “Cinderella” accompanied by philanthropists Joe and Tana Christie. Then I believe the divine Victoria Corcoran has a party planned for Sunday. Must wade through the invitations.
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Guest blogger Ian Gillespie: Bob Dylan vs. Mariah Carey
Some readers have wondered who our guest bloggers have been this week. Students in the St. Edward’s University Entertainment Journalism class. The same group contributed the House of Torment fragments.
Today, Ian Gillespie pits two very different musicians against each other in What’d I Say.
Now if I had to pick anybody in the world to hit a high C, it would be Mariah. On top of that she earned 18 No. 1 singles, the most for a solo artist in the U.S.; she also tucks five Grammys under her belt. But despite all of her success and talent, Mariah is not necessarily who I want standing behind the microphone. Now I admit, I have listened to her music sparingly, but when I have heard it I only hear a voice. She sounds like a producer told her to sing this way. No edge, no real distinctiveness.
Now I don’t mean to put Mariah down, she could do things with her voice that seem impossible. But I’ll take Dylan every day of the week.
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‘In Search of a Midnight Kiss’
What you can do with just a few thousand dollars, if you possess natural film talent like former Austinite Alex Holdridge: Create a black-and-white romantic comedy that makes Los Angeles as retro-seductive as Woody Allen’s New York City in Manhattan; launch two protagonists that one could easily detest, then draw us deeply into their brief encounter; revisit a familiar tribe of scruffy, marginal wannabes and transform them into the most important people in the universe.
The cast is ideal, but well-seasoned Scoot McNairy really settles in one’s memory. He could become an indie sensation well beyond his current status as a reliable character actor. I hadn’t until this moment made the “Sideways” connection, or absorbed the observation of the classical unities, but nobody really cares what I think about these things. Alex, you did good.
(Yes, today I finally leave my sickbed and hit the social circuit again.)
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Finally saw ‘The Unforeseen’
There’s no question that Dunn is an extraordinary documentarian. She’s patient. She’s empathetic. She’s got an eye for the right image at just the right moment. Her playfulness with maps, for instance, goes well beyond the mere documenting of the springs endangered by development.
Yet, as with so many talented documentarians, she doesn’t stop there. Her opening sequences and several subsequent ones visually damn downtown development meant to provide an environmentally suitable alternative to urban sprawl. Her views of unfinished freeways are of roads built specifically to avoid the environmentally sensitive Hill Country. And her right out of “Grapes of Wrath” farmer — cutting grass with a scythe! — is so romanticized as to further undercut her potent and sophisticated arguments about development.
I attended a press conference for “The Unforeseen” with Robert Redford. First, I was a bit taken aback by just how articulate he was. But then I was shocked by how jagged the feelings sounded from some of the people in attendance. Clearly, the development wars of the 1980s were not over for them. It’s to Dunn’s credit that the movie cleanly navigated so many of those divisions — to the displeasure of those present for that event.
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Guest blogger Caroline Wallace: ‘Synechoche, New York’
Guest blogger Caroline Wallace reviews “Synecdoche, New York” in Caroline Attack.
One by one, Cotard begins to lose control of his autonomic functions, and terrified by the idea of his impending demise, sets out to achieve his masterpiece. He creates a massive and multidimensional theater project, a living and breathing metropolitan replica, housed in a New York City airplane hanger.
When viewed through strictly analytical eyes, the film’s beauty can be easily overlooked and the plot can become maddening. The audience is left to constantly guess whether or not the events on the screen are occurring in reality or are simply products of Cotard’s ailment. And from this view, the film’s progression, or perhaps lack thereof, becomes drudgingly anticlimactic; the big pay off never comes.
Conversely, absorbing the film’s stylistic and humanistic charm as it plays, and not harping on the logistics of it all, is an incredibly rewarding and engaging experience. The film is superbly acted and delightfully crafted. The dialogue is consistently witty and charming, and quirky nuances coat the screen at every turn. “Synecdoche, New York” is a film that transcends space and time, and reveals some insightful truths about the nature of both life and death.
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Spiky thoughts on blogging: Andrew Sullivan
Read longtime blogger Andrew Sullivan on how blogs change the way we think and write in “Why Blog.”
Excerpt: “To blog is therefore to let go of your writing in a way, to hold it at arm’s length, open it to scrutiny, allow it to float in the ether for a while, and to let others, as Montaigne did, pivot you toward relative truth.”
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Reconsidering Elgar: The Collector’s Edition
At times, the eminent Victorian not even considered part in their company — too emotional, too picturesque, too provincial. Elgar is all those things. Yet with virtually no formal training and life spent only intermittently refreshed by the mainstreams of new music, he produced a large, ripe repertoire of Romantic scores and some of the finest orchestrations of his time.
All this comes to mind because, in San Francisco, Kip purchased EMI Classics’ “Edward Elgar: The Collector’s Edition.” That would be 30 CDs of varying quality, including symphonies, marches, concertos, sontatas, dances, cantatas, oratorios and, of course, glorious choral music. Listening to it this week in sequence reveals a composer who, while conservative in form, toyed with all sorts of inventions within those constraints. He deserves better from our time.
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Guest blogger Geoff West: Watching the NFL on StoogeTV.com
Guest blogger Geoff West patiently explains StoogeTV.com on Crowd Noise.
I remember last Sunday … a dark and stormy night. I was in my boxers, unshaven at the kitchen table scouring the Internet, pleading with the gods for a Web site that would stream the Redskins’ game online and save me the headache of putting on clothes and schlepping it over to ta sports bar.
Well, happy to say, my prayers were answered through the intercession of StoogeTV. It’s a Web site where kind people upload and broadcast live TV for others to watch online — mostly sports or sports — related TV. Everything you (steal) watch is free — without registration or special software.
But before you dive in, it’s helpful to learn the basics. First, the homepage. Looks like this:
Notice the green tabs on the top right. Click “Channels” to get to the games (everything else is window dressing really). Once inside, you’ll see the TV screen on the left. In the middle, the channels. And on the far right, a chat board.
The chat board is where moderators and members post the channel number for the game. Sometimes an “Access Code” is required-unless you read differently, the password for any channel is always “stoogetv.com”:
So, you type it in and hit submit. Seconds later, you’re stealing watching that hockey game in the picture above. (Who knows why.) But there’s another way to watch games—follow the links posted in the chat room. This is how I watched my game last week. These links are posted by members inside the chat board like this:
You’ll start seeing them 5-10 minutes before game time. There are two types of links: the ones that swoop you to a web Site airing the game (like Justin.TV) or the ones that link you in with a private broadcast, which are usually the best quality.
However, private broadcasts limit the number of users who can join and stream the video in order to keep the buffer rate low. These links are only valid for roughly 15 seconds, so be on your toes. But don’t worry if you miss one. New links are posted every 3-5 minutes until the game finishes. So, if you don’t immediately see a channel number or link, don’t freak out. It’ll come.
It’s also a good idea to show up early — a lot of the quality streams happen right before the game starts. Enjoy your Sunday…
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Ranking the rest: Household publications
I consume 90 percent of my news on the Internet. RSS feeds, blogs, social media, old media Web sites. Yet print publications are never far away from my eyes. A pile of books. The newspaper. The magazines we have subscribed to for decades.
In previous posts, I explained why The Economist, The New Republic and The New Yorker are now ranked 1, 2, 3. Now for the full list. You needn’t subscribe like we do, but link through to their increasingly sophisticated Web sites below.
- The Atlantic (recently, handsomely redesigned)
- Harper’s Magazine (serious, but inconsistent)
- (tie) The American Scholar, Lapham’s Quarterly (yes, quarterlies can entertain and edify as well)
- Texas Monthly (essential for Texans, once you rifle past the fluff)
*Despite the titles, these publications range far from their home literary territories. The first, founded during a New York newspaper strike, has always erred on the side of ultra-long stories, but I’ve been a loyal reader since I lived in the city 30 years ago. The second is an arm of the Times of London, but stands on its own, offering criticism of almost anything cultural, social or scholarly.
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Guest blogger Victoria Estrada: ‘Religulous’
Guest blogger Victoria Estrada reviews “Religulous,” which I still haven’t seen, on Kid in Austin.
Political commentator Bill Maher ruffles some feathers in Larry Charles’ documentary, “Religulous,” a film that systematically questions blind faith and pokes God-sized holes in the hearts of Americans.
But I must say, before the (expletive), Maher’s a comedian. And he did wonders with the topic at hand.
Take Maher from behind a desk yelling at other loudmouthed pundits on his HBO program, and put him at the front of a single-wide trailer in Raleigh, North Carolina, N.C.. He goes inside a roadside chapel, standing before six or seven rustic looking truckers in collapsible chairs. Suspicion is written across their tired faces.
His strategy is simple. Maher asks only for explanations of their belief. The whats, the hows and the whys. His straightforward approach could be mistaken for arrogance and condescension. But Maher’s reaction to their responses is often times met only with a reiteration, allowing the interviewees to hear the holes in their own reasoning.
Perhaps the most fascinating part of the documentary are the reactions caused by questions that merely scratch the surface of the religion debate. Early on Maher asks “And why is faith so good?” to which a trucker rises from his seat in a huff. “Look, I don’t know what your movie is about but I don’t like it and I’m leaving,” he says, a common reaction to Maher’s questions.
Interviews are conducted all over the world, from the desk of one square-jawed Republican senator to a Orthodox Jewish rabbi who denies the Holocaust — the only interview Maher walked out on shaking his head in defeat and disbelief. He interviews clergy, doctors, and, unfortunately, or maybe to his discredit, the kind of faceless Americans who populate places like The Holy Land, a biblical amusement park in Orlando, Fla. These scenes seem too easy, and Maher self-serving.
I wouldn’t recommend this film for people that aren’t already engaged in the debate on religion. But for those who can stomach Maher’s opinion, there are many belly laughs to be had at the expense of reverence.
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Pace yourself to eat, drink and be merry
Do you ever get tired? Are you ever tempted to skip out on social events? Aren’t you ever bored with the Out & About beat?
Answers to these frequent questions: Yes. Yes. Almost never.
My hosts receive advance warning. Obviously, if I commit to a sit-down dinner, I’m there for the evening. My usual response to personal invitations, however, is an entirely truthful: “Thanks. I hope to drop by.”
Boredom rarely rears its tiresome head. Travel and domestic hobbies keep the faculties alert. Yet Austin itself intrigues me year-round with its constant renewal and endless social possibilities.
Let me share some advice for those aspiring to endure the social circuit.
Sleep. I could not make it through the day without at least one nap, preferably two. On vacation, I sometimes indulge in more. That way I’m stoked for morning writing, fresh again for afternoon meetings and revived for a string of evening events.
Eat. Know that temptations lie in wait. They could take the form of steak tartatre on sea-salt-encrustd bruschetta, or, equally welcome, chips and salsa. So go light the rest of the day. A protein and fruit smoothie for breakfast. A salad or small sandwich for lunch. Indulge, by all means, but do so when it’s satisyfing, not fore mere caloric intake.
Drink. Let me clarify: Hydrate. Water, sparkling water, fruit juice or sports drinks without sugar additives, whatever it takes. Caffeine only in modest doses. (I’m a dcaf man myself.) Alcohol, in as much as possible, moderated.
Exercise. A pedestrian lifestyle helps. Work out where you feel comfortable (an improvised gym in our garage beckons more during our mild winters than during our brutal summers). An hour of exercise a day is an admirable goal for thsoe not training for a marathon. And nothing clears the mind after a night on the town than a brisk walk home.
Breathe. Read one new book a week. Listen to one new CD each day. Browse seven magazines a week. Do you have access to a porch, patio, pool or spa? Use them. Plan mind breaks into your routine. That way you can modulate the exterior demands of work deadlines, family pressures and … all those social commitments.
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Guest blogger Tommy Collins: Journalism as Entertainment
Guest blogger Tommy Collins posts about changing journalism in A Taste of Tom Collins.
With the quickly changing spectrum of media and the outlets for it, the role of a journalist has come into question. After reading an article that commented on this subject by Chuck Raasch of NewPolitics, I decided to offer my opinion.
News, in fact, is available faster than one can access it, from any perspective and angle that one could want., ‘nNews’ is perhaps no longer really newsworthy. Today’s generation get their news from the places that say the things they want to hear. The abundance of news sources has created a pick-and -choose scenario challenging the very life of traditional unbiased media.
A source must take on an identity and play to a specific side of the isle, or nobody listens. Phenomena such as “The Daily Show with Jon Stewart “or “Countdown with Keith Olbermann,” play to specific audiences and become more than just news sources. These shows must compete with the reality and drama programs at the same times, so in turn must include some drama or humor of their own just to compete.
It is ‘entertaining’ to watch the news shows that offer the same opinions and views that you hold personally. People no longer have to hear both sides of the issues, then choose; rather they tune in to a show that offers an angle that is usually consistent with their own, and it is entertaining as well as informative.
An unbiased informative news source that is not funny or dramatic will quickly fail. News journalism has been forced to incorporate entertainment into its coverage just to get people to pay attention. By adding humor, or focusing on what is dramatic instead of what newsworthy, the news sources can compete with reality TV and the internet, but must sacrifice their unbiased credibility, and become entertaining.
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The New Yorker steady at No. 3
The Atlantic Monthly and Harper’s consistently produce stories of greater substance, accompanied by effective visual presentations. The New York Review of Books and Times Literary Supplement allow their critics wider freedom to match subject to tone and breadth. Yet The New Yorker still ranks No. 3 — after The Economist and The New Republic — for overall value in our household.
The magazine explains business to the layman better than almost any other publication through The Financial Page and maintains a stable of excellent critics, not always performing at the top game of their game, though. (Sometimes they don’t rise above mere hackery.) Breaking news coverage with depth is now regular on its Web site — see Mimi Swartz’s overnight piece on Texas after Bush.
While it rarely gives space to the book-sized investigative or trend pieces that defined its reputation, the long profiles still inform and glow. They follow a fairly rigid formula — bold feature opening, bio facts one third into piece, then a low-key wrap that can be skipped — and the prose is scrubbed within an inch its life. Yet week after week, I look forward to another 3-dimensional portrait of a key figure, celebrated or not.
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Your A-List, Best Festival not ACL or SXSW
Any party planner, entertainment journalist or just plain Austinite will tell you that two festivals — ACL and SXSW — pretty much eclipse everything else when they are in session. Just try to wave down some attention for your normal, wonderful Austin event if either of those fests conflict with it.
Old Pecan Street Festival, the longtime celebration of Sixth Street, arts/crafts, bands and festival food, came in second with more than 17 percent. Fun Fun Fun Fest, alternative to ACL or SXSW with its outdoor punk, hardcore, electronica and other acts in Waterloo Park, almost tied OPCF with 17 percent. The Texas Book Festival, which practically reinvented the notion of a populist literary fest, came in fourth with 11 percent.
Attracting 6 percent or less were all sorts of guaranteed fun: Austin Kite Festival (6 percent), Austin Reggae Festival (6 percent), Kerrville Folk Festival (6 percent), Old Settler’s Music Festival (4 percent), Out of Bounds Improv Festival (2 percent), Austin Gay & Lesbian International Film Festival (3 percent), Keep Austin Weird Festival (3 percent), Cine Las Americas (2 percent), Art City Austin (1 percent), Urban Music Festival (1 percent) and Fuse Box (1 percent).
Write-ins: Austin Celtic Festival, Batfest, Bydee Festival, Fantastic Fest, Roky Erickson’s Annual Psychedelic Ice Cream Social
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Your A-List, Best Video Store
Vulcan, which has been around Austin almost as long as video could be rented, has maintained its loyal customer base through these strategies, plus something indefinable — character. You know when you in a Vulcan video store. It won 46 percent of the A-List vote for best video store.
Netflix, which revolutionized the market with its delivery service and lack of late fees, came in second with 17 percent. I Luv Video, another ground-based Austin veteran, came in third at 15 percent. Blockbuster, the chastened chain that once dominated the industry, took fourth with 9 percent. Waterloo Records & Video, which, I believe is getting out of the video-renting game, earned 5 percent.
Pulling in less than 2 percent were The Movie Store, TapeLenders, Austin Public Library, Encore and Hastings.
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Guest blogger Beth Sanchez: Search Me
Guest blogger Beth Sanchez introduced me to a fresh search engine with this novel post on I See.
Search me. Well, not really. I don’t have any money on me and the most dangerous thing on me is probably my keys.
Search Me is actually a search engine. What makes it singular: Search Me shows screenshots of the results. It also uses the same format as Apple cover flow. Naturally, that app will soon be available for the iPhone and iPod touch.
1) Michael Barnes , a printmaker from Northern Illinois University
2) Michael Barnes, U.S. Representative for Maryland
3) Michael Barnes, a hairdresser in London
4) Michael Barnes, Entertainment Editor for the Austin American Statesman
Though you probably won’t get as many results as Google, it certainly is a little easier on the eyes. You can “search all” or search through the standard, “web,” “video,” or pictures” options. Search Me also comes with some odd options, such as “colleges & universities,” “board games.” and “work & career.” (These options didn’t bring up anything relevant, as expected, but Search Me is still in Beta mode).
The whole endeavor brings to mind the saying: “Don’t judge a book by its cover”. Instead we are judging results through web screenshot to see what is more appealing to us.
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Election night: A Boomer’s report from Kona Grill & downtown
Former Betty Dunkerley aide and anecdotalist Suzie Harriman, who spends half the year with classical music writer, raconteur and husband Randy Harriman in Mexico, sent in this election-night story about being a Boomer among the youth on Obama night:
“Those young people were all so well behaved, whooping at Obama’s win, of course, but oh so polite and quiet during McCain’s concession speech, even applauding for him afterwards. OK, so I was a bit of an (expletive) when he thanked Palin for all her work, commentinng loudly that she was one of the reasons he lost. I got a “look” from Randy and decided to keep quiet from then on. … I wouldn’t leave Kona until we had seen Obama make his acceptance speech. I really didn’t want to hear it in the car.
“So we left around 11:15 and on the “way” home headed for the East Side, out MLK, over to 11th Sttreet, past the Victory Grill and on to Congress Avenue downtown. All was quiet on the East Side, surprisingly, but downtown was hopping, with clumps of revelers here and there and cars honking. A LOT. Couldn’t figure out exactly what that was about, besides the obvious “win” tonight. We didn’t honk, but felt like we were participating, since we’re still sporting our OBAMANOS bumper sticker.
“That one will stay on the car, while our other, older bumper sticker will be unceremoniously removed tomorrow (“We’re making enemies faster than we can kill them”), marking a new era.”
Photo courtesy of the Huffington Post.
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The city will go wild tonight
Update: As you undoubtedly know — and will always remember with precise, concrete details — Barack Obama won tonight. And from my window, from the horns, fireworks and laughter, I’d say the city is going wild.
What a time to be stuck on the couch. At least it’s with Kip and Steven — and six or seven news channels.
That means, while both sides will throw parties, if Barack Obama wins, it will be bigger than the Longhorns winning the national football championship. (And for you sports skeptics out there — that’s the most delirious I’ve seen Austin.) As a social observer, I’ve sensed almost nothing but political buzz over the wires and wireless for the past few days.
Remember that George W. Bush’s delayed election-night celebration was planned for downtown Austin, in front of the Capitol. I recall a few triumphalist Bush backers lord it over their Dem friends the next few weeks. Hope Barack backers are better sports, no matter how gleeful. We all must continue to share the city. (Obviously, should he win. I’m no prognosticator.)
As social columnist, I should be there. But why endanger all the hard work invested in a upgraded heart? No, I just sit here with Kip and Steven.
Send me your election-night party stories. I’ll post the ones that are publishable.
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The New Republic falls to No. 2
Truth is, both sides of the aisle read TNR, a left-center/right-center publication with a reputation for thorough reporting, penetrating analysis and superb writing. Or perhaps, I should credit the editing, because you don’t get that kind of consistency — fabricator Stephen Glass excepted — without editors who scrub every preposition for meaning.
That’s one reason why, despite moving The Economist to the No. 1 spot this year, I’m still ranking TNR No. 2. It’s reports from the campaign trail and political profiles were second to no other publications. And, as always, its critics are top notch. We don’t hear as often from the theater, dance or architecture desks, but we know that sometimes the meatiest meat hunkers on the back pages.
What magazine earns the No. 3 spot in the Keller-Barnes household. Texas Monthly? The New Yorker? Harper’s? Atlantic Monthly? The New York Review of Books? American Scholar? Lapham’s Quarterly? The Times Literary Supplement? Find out as my sickbed week drags on.
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The social and personal impact of Proposition 8
Update: While it appears Prop 8 passed with 52 percent of the vote — not all ballots have been counted — legal challenges have already been filed to defend marriage equality.
This is not a political blog. Out & About usually covers social engagement, not social division.
Yet one social issue cuts to the heart of our household’s well-being: Marriage equality. One can take liberal or conservative exceptions to the theory of gay marriage. But one cannot deny its impact on basic human dignity.
Luckily, St. David’s, like Seton and South Austin hospitals in previous experiences, treated Kip as my next of kin. This, in Texas, where our legal status is virtually nil. Yes, we brought along all our expensively drawn-up documents, such as medical power of attorney. They weren’t necessary. In practice, the Austin medical community gets it.
I can’t imagine what would happen if my partner/husband of 17 years were not afforded this humane treatment, in crisis or in daily life. Which is why California’s Proposition 8 concerns marrieds like ourselves. It affects our friends with children even more.
The loss of recently gained marriage equality would be devastating enough for Californians. It would alter the fates of those of us who tied the knot in other jurisdictions. (Canada in our case.) The argument for legal precedence in any national court would be weakened.
Leaders of the LDS Church have poured millions into the pro-Prop 8 campaign, while ordinary Mormons have held vigils outside the Temple to protest their leaders’ activism on the issue. What really rankles is that money pays for fear ads claiming gay marriage would be force fed to grade schoolers. This lie rank alongside claims Barack Obama introduced legislation forcing sex education on kindergarteners and that the ERA would demand unisex toilets.
Although Out & About counts some regular California readers, we have no say in this matter. We can only hope that, after the headline issues, like the presidency and shape of Congress, are settled, the news from the West Coast endorses human dignity.
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Genuflecting to our fair city’s social sentience
Today we vote.
Or, having already voted, we genuflect before the sacred ritual.
The local incarnation of this malevolence usually drapes the mantle of “authentic Austin” around any cause. It assumes that relative newcomers or old-timers, or just those different from us, are somehow inauthentic, love the city less, might even be anti-Austin.
Remember, vast majority of folks didn’t come here to exploit the city for a quick buck. The could do that much more easily in other Texas metropolises. The came to improve and diversify what’s already here. Not always successfully, but they chose Austin for good reasons. Probably the same reasons you did.
I’m not one who celebrates Austin’s weirdness. I celebrate the culture that nurtures that weirdness. I celebrate Austin’s constantly renewed openness, sentience and engagement. That includes Central Texans who live in vertical downtown condos, horizontal suburban villas or funky neighborhood bungalows.
Let’s hope all will vote.
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Guest blogger Alison Willis: Serie Project
Alison Willis reports on the ongoing “Serie Project” on “A Sleepy Company”:
Each artist creates a serigraph print of one or several of their pieces of work and “The Serie Project” makes the art available to the public through a series of numbered, affordable prints. Some of the prints are also exhibited at various museums around the country. This service is provided at no cost to the artist.
Every year “The Serie Project” invites 15 to 18 artists to participate in the program. The artists are selected through a juror and referral system. The artist is then invited to Coronado Studios to work with a master screen-printer, learning how to create and produce a 50 edition run of their prints. Each year, they produce between 750 and 900 prints.
While attending Coronado’s graphic design class at Austin Community College, I was afforded the opportunity to visit the studio on the east side of Austin. The studio, which is located in an inconspicuous old house, is also rented out to local artists and screen-printers for poster and t-shirt production.
I stumbled on a lot of colorful concert posters hanging on the wall created by some talented artists. So far, over 150 artists have participated in this program and many of the prints have been featured in museums and other venues across the United States and in the PBS feature “Art Journeys.”
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V.S. Naipaul in Patrick French’s ‘The World Is What It Is,’ Part 3
Continued for posts below…
It’s equally hard to stomach Naipaul’s attitudes toward Muslims and blacks, to name only two groups who are never far from his disdain. One group oppressed his Hindu ancestors, the other dominated Trinidad and the rest of the Caribbean, trampling on Indian minorities. Yet it would be too easy to define Naipaul as a reactive bigot. He betrays a knowing tenderness to individual Muslims and blacks in his writing and his current wife, Nadira, is a Pakistani Muslim.
French intends none of these explanations as exculpatory, but the odd effect of his biography is that the reader’s estimation of Naipaul’s literary achievement rises, even as one’s opinion of his personal behavior declines. French examines the books’ background, evolution and reception carefully, without offering groundbreaking interpretations. But the works remain in the forefront of our thoughts as we read the biography. Executed in short, declarative sentences and almost unparalleled in their observational power, they will survive. (Naipaul’s chief influence is Balzac.)
French often rises to the level of the master’s skills, noting crucial details from Naipaul’s life, such as this scene from 1977, after Naipaul had achieved broad recognition:
“While he was in Trinidad, Vidia spoke to the pupils of Fatima College, a boy’s secondary school. An amateur film of the seminar shows V.S. Naipaul wearing a roll-neck sweater, sitting with tightly crossed legs before an old-style microphone, puffing on his pipe, looking camp and uneasy, listening to inept questions from teachers and students. He was determinedly confrontational, a style he would repeat in his occasional public appearances in the West Indies over coming years.”
French’s only glaring error, an extremely minor one at that, should have been caught by his editors at Knopf. He calls Tulsa, Okla., “a place famous for its hurricanes.” That would tornadoes, despite the University of Tulsa’s team name, the Golden Hurricanes.
Given the thoroughness of this biography, it would seem to leave nothing else to tell. Yet the reader is left with a hunger for epilogue. French chose to end “The World Is What It Is” in 1996 with the death of Pat and the dramatic scenes that followed her passing. He rightly says that more recent developments are too close to analyze. Yet this leaves many stories untold; that of Naipaul’s long-awaited Nobel Prize in 2001, for instance, or his response to Theroux’s attack or the arc of his second marriage. “The World Is What It Is” is so enthralling, we want more, more and even more. Perhaps in a revised edition?
Yet who could quibble with the book’s ending, which describes the delayed scattering of Pat’s ashes from Cooper’s Hill in Gloucester? Distraught, Naipaul cannot decide on a spot for the ritual, as so many places flood his heart with memories of Pat. His new wife, Nadira, walks ahead with the urn, then wanders into the woods alone, saying the Fatiha, a Muslim prayer, before singing an English hymn she knew from childhood: “All things bright and beautiful, All creatures great and small.”
““Nadira walked back, out of the woods. V. S. Naipaul, the writer, Vidyadhar, the boy, Vidia, the man, was leaning against the car, tears streaming down his face, lost for words. Afterwards they went back in the taxi to the empty house. Enough.””
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V.S. Naipaul in Patrick French’s ‘The World Is What It Is,’ Part 2
Continued for post below…
The story is almost as compelling as Naipaul’s fiction and nonfiction, and considerably more revealing than his memoirs and autobiographical sketches.
His childhood circumstances, which Naipaul spent a lifetime escaping, cannot be escaped in the stories, novels, memoirs, articles and travel books he has written. The descendent of indentured workers brought from India to Trinidad in the 19th century to replace African slaves, he started as an outsider’s outsider to the global literary community. He grew up in poverty far from the metropolitan center he so fervently longed to engage.
Yes, he struggled, financially, emotionally and sexually, in England as a student and upstart writer - a narrative that commands much of the biography. Yet he also took advantage of family connections, staying with relatives abroad. He relied on women, especially his first wife Pat (pictured) and his Argentine mistress, Margaret, throughout his career. And he accepted the intervention of highly connected figures - the novelist Anthony Powell, the popular historian Antonia Fraser, New York Review of Books editor Bob Silvers and countless journalists in the Third World — to advance his career.
What will surprise most readers, even those who dipped into the poison of Paul Theroux’s decade-old “Sir Vidia’s Shadow” (a memoir of the two writer’s dashed friendship), are the details of Naipaul’s tempestuous, exploitive and perhaps even violent treatment of Pat and Margaret. Virtually unacknowledged in his books, these two women - and others - helped organized his travels, responded to his early drafts and provided emotional and sexual sustenance to a man who needed much of both.
One could ascertain, from French’s accounts, that both women made deals with life, choosing to cling to “the Genius.” In their own words and the accounts of witnesses, they seemed energized by his sadistic behavior, but also by his extreme tenderness and devotion, as evidenced in sheaves of love letters. (In so many ways, Naipaul resembles the charismatic magi in contemporary Iris Murdoch novels. Naipaul, of course, was famously dismissive of Murdoch.)
French, who meticulously records Naipaul’s barbs, tantrums and betrayals, does not judge.
To be continued…
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V.S. Naipaul in Patrick French’s ‘The World Is What It Is,’ Part 1
Vidia Naipaul badly mistreated his first wife as well as his longtime mistress. He ignored family members in need. Suffering no fools, he dismissed critics and admirers with a withering disdain. He took delight in public provocation and looked down on almost anyone whose skin was darker than his. He snubbed his native country, Trinidad and Tobago, when accepting the Nobel Prize for Literature, acknowledging instead his adopted home, England, and his ancestral homeland, India.
Vidiadhar Surajprasad Naipaul, to use his full name, presented authorized biographer Patrick French with an almost insuperable task. Naipaul, a man of enormous accomplishments, often behaved abominably to strangers and intimates. How to keep the reader invested in a character who responds appropriately to great personal loss only in the final paragraphs of a 500-page biography?
The answer may lie in the author’s affinity for his subject, and their shared view of truth as reflected in the book’s title, “The World Is What It Is.” This is as unvarnished a portrait of a prominent living figure, especially one so controlling, as one could imagine.
French enjoyed unlimited access to his subject’s intimates and to previously sealed papers held at the University of Tulsa. Yet Naipaul, after participating in its research and having access to a final draft, made no effort to change a word.
Naipaul is what he is. Let the truth be told.
To be continued …
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Guest blogger Claire Cella: The Clay Pit
Claire Cella writes about the Clay Pit in That’s Entertainment.
I’ve found my favorite restaurant in Austin — The Clay Pit. Disguised in a old, worn brick building on Guadalupe Street, this longtime spot serves up contemporary Indian cuisine in a comforting, accessible style. As I opened the door the smell that greeted me was overwhelmingly rich and distinctly exotic — filled with curry and spice.
The menu was daunting, packed with flavors, textures and ingredients that I had never heard of but knew I wanted to try. Dining with my experimental and inquisitive father helped. We ordered chicken Samosas, chicken Tandoori Bites, vegetables Pakoras and Peshwari Naan as appetizers to test out our palettes. We passed the plates around, dipping our anxious forks into each, savoring the newness of the flavors.
My favorite was the naan, thinly baked bread which closely resembles pita that was lightly stuffed with nuts, raisins and cherries. It was served warm and the sweetness simply melted in my mouth. The chicken Tandoori bites, small marinated pieces of chicken, were made by the tikka masala that was served on the side — a rich, authentic, classic Indian sauce. The vegetable pakoras, breaded in chickpeas and spices, were healthy, fresh and crisp.
For dinner, I ordered conservatively since I was already feeling the affects of the appetizers — my stomach was filling up and quickly. After a long decision process, I opted for the Tandoori vegetables. Served over a bed of sizzling onions, the dish featured a mix of broccoli, zucchini, bell pepper, paneer, pineapple and red onion. The vegetables were sweet and moist, baked in a traditional Tandoor sauce and served with a side of basmati rice. And tikka masala sauce, which I slathered on, of course.
My dad ordered from the curry house, pairing lamb with the jeera saag sauce — a puree of spinach cooked with roasted cumin and spices. This dish allows you to pick a sauce along with lamb, chicken, vegetables, beef, paneer or shrimp. You can also customize the spice level, my father opting for medium and glad he did — any hotter and he would have had sweat drops falling from his forehead into his meal.
When the food arrived, our conversations ended but the motion of our forks did not — which I have come to associate with the sign of a good meal. We passed our dishes around, sharing in the experience, basking in the foreign flavors and intricate spice combinations that are relatively unfamiliar to us. The meal was one to remember — an ideal blend of a tranquil dining atmosphere, moments of father-daughter bonding and of course, a savory and invigorating array of nontraditional, tantalizing food.
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Live Chat with Michael Barnes at 7:30
I’ll be hosting a live chat with young entertainment journalists about interview techniques 7:30 pm. Nov. 3. It’s part of their class, but you can join. I’ll be conducting this from home, where I’m recuperating quickly.
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The Economist climbs to No. 1
The time has come to change the rankings. Periodically, I prioritize our periodicals. We usually subscribe to a dozen of the print relics called “magazines.” This week, on my sickbed, I’m carefully weighing them. After many years in the No. 2 spot, The Economist rises to No. 1.
For the past 15 years or so, The New Republic, with its crack critical team, topped my list. It leans liberal. Yet reasonable conservatives agree its reporting, analysis and opinions are expertly done. (It drummed up early support for the Iraq invasion, but revised its views once all the evidence came in.) Other magazines — to be discussed later — competed mightily.
The venerable Economist, which still calls itself a newspaper, has become even more essential as American publications have slimmed their staffs and withdrawn from the world. Like its distant broadcast relation, BBC News, The Economist takes a global view, and not just of the great powers, but of every corner of the Earth, with reporters scattering to every possible source of news.
It espouses free markets, but recognizes the importance of even-handed governmental regulation. Similarly, in a 19th-century liberal mode, it champions the individual against government intrusion into the private sphere, endorsing, for instance, marriage equality. Perhaps the publication and myself are stuck in the mid-19th-century — but in the best possible way.
This week, it makes a far from predictable presidential endorsement: “For all the shortcomings of the campaign, both John McCain and Barack Obama offer hope of national redemption. Now America has to choose between them. The Economist does not have a vote, but if it did, it would cast it for Mr. Obama. We do so wholeheartedly: the Democratic candidate has clearly shown that he offers the better chance of restoring America’s self-confidence.”
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Guest blogger Marloes Lemsom: ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’
Reality programs on television: They pound it into you. Personal lives are dramatized, their characteristics are over-emphasized and habits are exaggerated. A couple of years ago, it was new, refreshing and interesting — a European phenomenon before it arrived in America — but now, I can’t handle watching a minute of it anymore.
In the Netherlands, the television channel RTL5 started a new reality show which is called ‘Can’t Buy Me Love’. It is about a bunch of rich guys, living in an enormous apartment with a couple of girls. The girls have to show that money isn’t the most important thing but that, above all, they like the boys because of their characters.
Uh-huh.
The worse part of this story is that a girl from my hometown is part of the show, trying to impersonate a stereotypical girl from the one place on Earth I love the most.
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‘Man on Wire’ — 4 stars
Director James Marsh splices interviews, archival footage and unusually adroit reenactments to tell Philippe Petit’s story. Well, his story and that of his friends, because it took a small army to accomplish that dangerous, illegal act. Their suspenseful, painstaking planning and execution, as well as the high-flying aesthetics, keep one glued to the screen.
The movie itself is a work of art. It won high praise at the Sundance Film Festival, played Austin theaters and earned a rare 100 percent rating from RottenTomatoes.com’s Tomatometer. It will be available on DVD on Dec. 9.
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Huston Street with Lacey Larson in Austin?
This from a solid-gold source:
Huh, we missed the banns and nuptials. Seems heartthrob Huston married Lacey Larson, a wine lover like himself, Jan. 5 of this year. They had been dating since 2004. He proposed to her standing in a bed of roses. Not sure if this is the same Lacey who was a cheerleader from Arlington, but the timing is right, since Huston was a key member of the 2005 national championship team.
Now, at one point the Austin native, like a growing number of former Longhorns, owned a condo here. Do he and Lacey still share one in town? To find out more, we’ll have to track down our sources in the Bay Area, which, believe it or not, is easier to penetrate than the Longhorn Empire. Maybe somebody with Richard Linklater’s camp will know — he did appear in Rick’s splendid documentary about coach Augie Garrido, “Inning by Inning.”
And you thought I wasn’t paying attention…
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A restless mind, an imprisoned body
The department head instructed: “No blogging!” Not while recovering from surgery. How is that possible, when my body is imprisoned on the couch and my mind races along in a thousand directions?
In begging off her instructions, I am reminded of that surprising assessment from a top editor: “You’re a serial transgressor.” In a sense, that’s true. Yet almost all within certain broader social boundaries.
Is it really bad to post? Isn’t that what readers want? The most popular blog on the Internet, the Huffington Post, is updated more than 250 times a day. What’s an update for Out & About every few hours in comparison?
My mother reminds me that, as a toddler, I didn’t like to be held. As an adult, I’m a habitual hugger and have happily shared a marriage bed for 17 years. So what gives? Did I just outgrow that phase?
Or am I just restless by nature. Don’t like to be held down. Want to see what’s around the next corner.
At the same time, I’m supremely happy choosing my attachments. I invest a lot in them. I’m deeply pained when they fade away or turn sour.
Maybe by the end of the week, it will all make sense. Social sense, as always.
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Learning to lose
The city is quiet tonight. A team lost. I don’t have to tell you which one.
Neither is Austin. Which is why this is social news. Big social news, since Austin’s civic mood often follows the fate of its teams. (To deny that is to turn a blind eye.)
The city really doesn’t know what to do with loss. Even during economic busts — and I’ve lived through three here — it’s bursting with energy, imagination, good will, hope.
The Horns can hold their heads high. They played a tough team and lost in the final seconds.
Tech, on the other hand, still needs to learn how to lose — and how to win — with class. Last year, they lost, then whined about the officials. This year, they won, then stormed the field at least twice. (Newspaper reports said three times.)
You’d think a certain coach, with all his piratical powers, could discourage that kind of behavoir. But I guess when you live in Lubbock, you’ve got to let loose sometime. Go ahead, dance your dance.
The Raiders must still play OK and OK State. No patsies, as Texas can attest. We’ll see if Tech learns to lose with dignity.
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‘Antoine’s Alphabet: Watteau & His World’
Dreamed about blogging last night. A lot. Can’t remember specifics. Yet, on giant colored screens, my writing grew looser, less like essays, my first love, more like free associations.
Perl sketches. He noodles. He goes way off track in his impassioned defense of Antoine Watteau, the painter of French court and theatrical life.
His apologia reminds me of Perl’s praise of Jean-Baptiste-Simeon Chardin’s painstaking still life work in “Eyewitness: Reports From an Art World in Crisis.”
It’s a bit precious and scattered. Knopf indulged the New Republic’s visual art writer’s ornate whimsy through delicate prints and rich packaging. Still, a thematic alphabet? Maybe the cheapest gimmick in the publishing game book.
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500 Years of Female Portraiture
Thanks to Debi Martin for sending me this salute to female portraiture by Philip Scott Johnson to cheer me up:
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Not such a bad week for the couch
Thanks to friends and colleagues, I have plenty to read, besides the stack of magazines dating back months (all partially consumed). Patrick French’s biography of V.S. Naipaul may need some rereading to improve an already submitted review. There’s Sarah Vowell’s “The Wordy Shipmates,” Leonard Barkan’s “Satyr Square,” Geoff Nicholson’s “The Lost Art of Walking,” Jed Perl’s “Antoine’s Alphabet: Watteau and His World,” Tim Blanning’s “The Triumph of Music” and, perhaps, Evelyn Waugh’s “Scoop,” which dear friend Lawrence Morgan urged on me many months ago.
Additionally, awaiting me are the eleventh season of “The Simpsons,” “Man on Wire,” In Search of a Midnight Kiss” and “The Unforeseen” on DVD. After listening to underappreciated Edward Elgar box set through my slumber, I’ve upped the energy with Roy Orbison’s box set this afternoon.
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My favorite story in the Statesman this week
Well, other than Joshunda Sanders’ interview with Amanda Jones, the 109-daughter of a former slave who voted for Barack Obama. (Talk about ending the Civil War after 143 years!)
This tiny item, though, endangered my surgically tender spots with helpless giggling: “In English, the road sign was just fine, warning drivers that the route ahead is not suitable for heavy trucks. But the translation in Welsh didn’t work so well, saying “I am not in the office at the moment. Please send any work to be translated.
“The town council of Swansea said the embarrassing error occurred after officials didn’t realize an e-mailed reply from a translator was a warning that he wasn’t available, not the wording to be used on the sign. The town in Wales is replacing the sign.”
