Miscellaneous: Trump is a flight risk

Driving recently in Oakland, I saw this theater sign. It says: "Donald Trump owns a private jet. He is a major flight risk. Lock him up!" True enough. Most indicted people charged with serious crimes don't own private jets. If he were to flee, where would he go?

Art I'm Looking At/Music I'm Listening To: VineArt 2012, in Santa Rosa's South A Street Arts District

Santa Rosa's South A Street Arts District is worth a visit any time. I don't how many artists have studios on A St. at the south end of Julliard Park, but there are more than enough to spend a satisfying hour or two looking around, and, at the intersection of A St. and Sebastopol Ave., is Jeremiah's Photo Corner, a friendly shop I go to for photo supplies. But last night I went to attend VineArt 2012, a gallery open house with wineries pouring some of their wines, food vendors, and music in the streets.

I went to look at art, but stayed to listen to music. I have to say the music was as good as some of the art. I particularly like the photography of Barbara Elliot who continues to make quirky and compelling images of dolls and mannequins. Many of these are Polaroid transfers, which create an air of distance and nostalgia. A young artist who calls himself Mr. Salazar was exhibiting posters (some originally made for Santa Rosa's The Imaginists theater collective) that are digital collages juxtaposing odd assortments of images taken from various sources--everything from the Rubik's Cube to old paper tags appear as elements in the little worlds Mr. Salazar creates. I was mostly deeply impressed, however, by the music I heard.

As I walked down to Jeremiah's Photo Corner to say hello to Jeremiah I did the aural equivalent of a double take as my brain made the connection between the deeply authentic blues I was hearing and the man folded around a guitar, playing on the corner there (Dave Burke). At first I thought I was hearing a recording--"Cryin' Won't Help You." The quiet but relentless beat behind the guitar produced with a bass drum pedal working against an old suitcase and augmented by a foot-operated tambourine immediately reminded me of the likes of Jack Owens and Eugene Powell--and later, R.L. Burnside, when Burke launched into "Old Black Hattie." The real blues are gone, despite the knee-jerk protestation "the blues will never die" that the old bluesmen seemed to fall back on when asked to say something about their art. The deep blues Robert Palmer wrote about, in particular, was the product of a society in America's Deep South that no longer exists. A lot of blues musicians today think they know what they're doing, but few seem to approach the balance of raw feeling, technical skill, and driving forward motion that makes real blues music compelling. Remarkably, Mr. Burke comes very close to achieving the feat. The whole evening would have been worth it just to hear this music. But there was more. 

In a back corner of the gallery buildings an unlikely ensemble fronted by two women playing trombones and a man in a hat playing a giant, bleating saxophone (a bass saxophone maybe?) created an entirely different mood. I never found out who these people were. Shortly afterward, as I was about to leave the event, I heard the sound of Klezmer music coming from South A St.--an accordion, a wistful fiddle played by a dark-haired beauty, a clarinet, and a soprano sax there were weaving magic. A small crowd had formed. Some were dancing in the street. Passersby good-naturedly danced as they slipped through the people who stood listening or, just as often, they stopped and momentarily became part of the crowd themselves. The accordion player switched to stand-up bass and the young man playing the sax ducked under a battered sousaphone as a new tune began. For a while, he played both instruments. There was soulful ballad-singing in a raspy voice. There was a song sung in French. There was singing in Russian or Yiddish. I ended up staying until the end.

The performers told me that some of them were members of a group called Church Marching Band. Others seemed to belong to another group. I wish I could tell you their names. They were wonderful to listen to. From what I gather, some of them do a bit of impromptu performing around town--an article I read on line describes them being kicked out of Santa Rosa Plaza (our downtown mall) for doing a little concert without permission, playing all the while--noble behavior we need more of. Why should spontaneous art require permission? This is the kind of activity that makes people happy, that enriches communities, that attracts people and makes public spaces vibrant. Serendipity. It's the sort of activity that makes Santa Rosa seem like a real city from time to time. 

  

Places I'm Visiting: Wine Country in Amador and El Dorado Counties

At the end of June, I took a trip up to wine country in Amador and El Dorado Counties, in the western foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains, heading east on Route 12, taking SR160 through Isleton, and then heading north, ultimately going as far as Coloma, the site of the original Sutter's Mill, where the gold that sparked the Gold Rush was found. Isleton is a small town right on the Sacramento River that I've driven through on  bird-watching trips (the area is good for seeing Sandhill Crane during the winter months; nearby areas are overwintering grounds for hundreds of thousands of ducks and geese each year), but I'd never stopped in Isleton. The town is small, sleepy, and a bit run-down, but with interesting quaint touches here and odd bits of history hanging on there.

[Wine tasting is detailed at the end of this post.]

Like so many places in California associated with the Gold Rush (many hopeful miners passed through here from San Francisco on their way to the gold fields), the place was once bustling to a degree hard to imagine today. The population was many times what it is now (about 850) and riverboats stopped here. Especially interesting are the Chinese-style buildings that remain--evidence of the large Chinese population that once lived in the area. Some of the Chinese apparently farmed and operated stores, others worked building the levees and docks along the river. There is an extant Chinatown and, next to it, a Japanese section. I would have liked to have learned more about the history of the place, but the local museum was closed on a Thursday. Lunch at Maya's (formerly Orilla del Rio; 14133 Market St.) was good. According to my guidebook (Best Places: Northern California, Sasquatch Books, 2010), Isleton was once "the asparagus capital of the world." Today it seems to be best known for crawdads. There is an annual Crawdad Festival on the Father's Day weekend. Just missed it.

From Isleton, passed through Locke, Walnut Grove, and Lodi, and from there into Sutter Creek on Hwy. 88, passing along the north shore of Comanche Reservoir. The towns in the area of Sutter Creek along Hwy. 49--including the tiny Amador City, Jackson, Plymouth, Mokulumne Hill, and others--were all gold towns. They have something of the same feel as Isleton--tattered and abandoned in sections, but with vestiges of a surprisingly rich history. Some of the historic buildings in the area have been restored and put back to use. The rough-hewn stone sidewalks in Sutter Creek, polished by years of use, were particularly attractive in places (photo). Mark Twain once was a regular in this area. It was in a bar at Angel's Camp, about 30 miles to the south, that Twain heard the tale he later wrote as "The Celebrated Jumping Frog of Calaveras County," a story that helped bring him his initial fame. Had a good lunch on the "indoor patio" at Susan's Place Wine Bar & Eatery (15 Eureka St.) in Sutter Creek, but stayed the night at the St. George Hotel, in Volcano, California--a curious town with a curious name.

I know little about the geology of Volcano, but there doesn't appear to be a volcano in town. According to a plaque, early settlers thought nearby rock outcroppings looked like a volcano, so that's what they named the town. And why not? What Volcano does have is a deep sense of its own history; almost every building--and many other things in the town, including the fire bell and a Civil War cannon--has a plaque. Volcano is little more than a bend in the road, but there are two hotels--one at each end of the town--a post office, a few restaurants, and a bar or two (yes, each has a plaque). According to my guidebook, however, there were no fewer than 17 hotels in this tiny town during the gold boom.

I stayed at the St. George Hotel, dating from 1862, on the site of two earlier hotels that burned, the first built in 1853. The hotel's main restaurant is reputed to be excellent (as is the restaurant at the town's other hotel, the Union Hotel). Unfortunately, both restaurants were closed, but the hotel bar at the St. George serves decent food and has a good selection of local wines by the glass (I would call the place funky and friendly). There's a small park in the middle of town, about the size of a suburban house lot. In it are two plaques--one referring to a Christmas tree (no longer there) planted in honor of local boys during WWII, the other in honor of Carlo Andrea Dondero (1842-1939), described as "discoverer and founder of the California Carrera Marble Quarry," about three and a half miles southwest of the plaque's location. The monument points out that much of Stanford University was built with stone from this quarry and that many of San Francisco's civic buildings too, including City Hall. Who knew? If that weren't enough, Volcano seems to have had a long history of theater, boasting the first theater group in the state, but, according to the Volcano Theater Company (VTC) Website, Volcano also had the first debating society in the state, the first circulating library, the first private law school, and the first astronomical observatory--not to mention a very active baseball team. Facts like these again underscore the astonishing level of activity in this area while gold was being mined. Right now, the VTC (in its 38th season) is performing Agatha Christie's Murder on the Nile, in the town's outdoor amphitheater (through July 9). A rehearsal was going on as we pulled into town.

The rest of the trip was wine tasting, with a little bird watching mixed in, but not without detours. At the end of the trip I visited Marshall Gold Discovery State Park (in Coloma, just north of Placerville) which has a good historical museum, a working blacksmith, a monument to James W. Marshall, the man who first found gold in the tailrace (the rear water outlet) of Sutter's Mill (Sutter had partnered with Marshall to build a mill here to supply lumber to Sutter's Fort, in Sacramento), a monument showing the location of the original mill, and a full-sized replica of the mill, which fell into disuse only a couple of years after Sutter and Marshall built it. With the recent rains and snowmelt, the river that powered the mill (the South Fork of the American River) was cold and moving swiftly. I also stopped at Grinding Rock State Historic Park, which has the largest grinding rock in North America at the site of an old Miwok Indian village. The petroglyphs mentioned are much worn and very hard to see, but the large slab of rock peppered with holes used to grind acorns and other seeds into meal is interesting (photo). In the trees around the grinding rock I saw a pretty Bullock's Oriole and a number of flycatchers I had to leave unidentified.

I mostly tasted wine at wineries along Shenandoah Rd., just north of Plymouth, in Amador County, and then along Fair Play Rd., at Fair Play, in El Dorado County, staying the night at Fitzpatrick Winery and Inn, on Fair Play Rd., a log building on a hill with a panoramic view of the surrounding vineyards (photo). I enjoyed the spacious room and especially the excellent complimentary breakfast--I had "green eggs" (eggs with spinach) with smoked salmon on top. Had a good evening meal at the Gold Vine Grill, a few miles down the road. I tasted a decent Syrah at Fitzpatrick, but the standout in the area was Skinner, where I tried a truly delicious Grenache and an excellent, Rousanne-Marsanne-Viognier blend, among others--all good. Cedarville came highly recommended, but was closed.

Along Shenandoah Rd., near Plymouth, in Amador County, I tasted wines at Vino Noceto (which is making some very good high-end Sangiovese wines available only at the winery), at Cooper (generally good across the board, but with a certain sameness, and nothing that really excited me--although the Pinot Grigio was quite solid and the tasting room was very attractive and friendly, certainly worth a visit), and at Karmére (overall, the best wines I tasted in the immediate area)--barely scratching the surface. My wine tasting in Amador and El Dorado Counties turned out to be a short familiarization tour. I'd like to go back to do it more methodically at another opportunity.

I got up at 6:00AM after the night at Fitzpatrick and took a walk around the vineyards to look for birds. There was quite a lot of activity. There were many Lark Sparrows (photo), several warblers that got away too quickly to identify, an Ash-throated Flycatcher, Lesser Goldfinches, Western Bluebirds, many Acorn Woodpeckers (feasting on a termite nest along with Kingbirds, Flickers, and a couple of Western Scrub-jays), and an odd bunting-like bird that must have been a Lazuli Bunting but too blue and without the usual russet at the breast (colored like an Indigo Bunting, but with a pale breast)--one of those head-scratchers. Taken as a whole, an excellent little trip.

On the road (Europe 2010): Pouzolles, Pezenas

Spent a leisurely day yesterday seeing the village of Pouzolles after picking up our rental car, in Beziers, which is about half an hour away and the biggest town in the area. So far Pouzolles continues to conform to my first impression. The village is picturesque, but sleepy. Sometimes the picturesque is better passed through than lived in, but there is a wealth of things to do within a short drive of the village, so this makes an excellent base.

Yesterday, for example, we visited the Barrage des Olivettes, which is a small dam with a local swimming hole behind it. The dam creates a small reservoir with picnicking areas. Families were swimming. Some people were fishing. Others were just lolling on the grass. I enjoyed seeing the wildflowers. I noticed scabiosa, echiums, and chamomile growing wild. I saw a pretty yellow bird singing noisily up in one of the trees, a bird I've never seen before. A look in the bird book allowed me to identify it as a Serin, a common songbird in this area. Pied Wagtails were skimming over the water. A Hoopoe landed on the antenna of the neighboring house here after we got home. It was my first view of this very impressive bird, but he was gone before I could get my camera. I hope to get a better look at a Hoopoe soon.

Today we spent the day in Pezenas, a town about 10 miles to the east of Pouzolles. Today, Saturday, was market day. Each of the towns has its own market--sometimes more than once a week. Food sellers were offering the usual fruits, vegetables, fish, meats, bread products, and specialties such as olives, soaps (pictured), and candies and confections, but I can see already that it's more economical to shop for most food at the big supermarkets. Cheese and wine are much cheaper here than at home. I saw a wheel of Époisses today at the big Intermarché for €6 (the one I bought in Paris was €9). At home, at Whole Foods, the same piece of cheese would cost around four times as much. Today I bought four bottles of Cinsault rosé from local producers, which I plan to compare tomorrow evening, to start to get a feel for the wines being made here. The four bottles together cost the equivalent of about $12, and these were by no means the cheapest wines available. Other products are somewhat cheaper as well. All in all, I suspect it will cost less to live here than at home.

Pezenas is known for its antique shops, its market, and because Molière made Pezenas his home for a period and his company performed in the town from time to time. Pezenas is unusual also for a well preserved Jewish ghetto that appears to have been established in the 13th century. By the middle of the 16th, the Jewish population had been ejected, but the section of the town they built is still there. All over Pezenas are old stone buildings with interesting carvings, imposing doorways, and whimsical knockers on the doors. Many buildings have ornate wrought iron balconies. It was interesting just to wander around the streets. I particularly liked the heart-shaped carving on the door pictured here.

Miscellaneous: A Visit to the Theater

Went on a field trip with my son's class at the Santa Rosa Charter School for the Arts today. The class saw a dance performance by students at Santa Rosa High School and then visited the set for the Santa Rosa Junior College's production of The Wizard of Oz. Set designer Peter Compton gave us a behind-the-scenes look--literally. The kids got to walk on stage and see how the backdrops and turntables work and then they had a look at the scenery shop where the sets are built and props created. Not a bad way to spend a morning.