So it seems like an age ago, but it wasn’t really…..
[Flashback, Apr. 21st '04]
Roberto Emparan had come to give us a seminar entitled “New Horizons in Higher Dimensions”, (on higher dimensional black holes and their cousins) which was excellent. As he is a good friend of both of us, my wife and I took him on one of our standard (back then) guest routines wcih we enjoyed very much: Dinner out West (that time at Joe’s on Abbott Kinney in Venice), and then ice cream at that excellent place two doors down with the very authentic tasting ice cream (Massimo’s?….. closed down not long after….have not been to the new one, whereever it is). From there, take the ice cream the four or five blocks to the beach and walk along the isolated (why oh why isolated? -It’s great at night!) beach and walk. So we got to the beach and headed South, since in the distance, there was a very clear white light, unusually bright, and we wanted to know what it was. So we walked until we got to the source. There was a large number of people milling around, and quite a few people who were also out walking (yes, it happens in LA) had stopped to look. It was in front of one of those fun-looking mostly-windows Venice beachside houses, and they were filming a movie in one of the rooms on the upper floor. Well, as you may know if you have hung around a movie set for any length of time, there was a lot of standing around with nothing happening. But people have this fascination with movie-making, and so people stayed. (It is not hard to tell the difference between movies and commercials or other projects…there are several signs.)
Now two things helped people stay despite that fact that not much was happening.
(1) A rumour had gone through the assembled on-lookers (I’m talking about 20 people at most) that it was “some new Val Kilmer movie”. My (and others’) reaction was “oh, let’s be off then”, but then ……
(2) There was a giant, huge, enormous – humongous – pile of cardboard boxes being slowly glued together, layer after layer, below the balcony of the upstairs room. Clearly there was going to be a stunt! So people hung around – this is not something you see every day.
So they built and they built and they stopped. Then there was a rehearsal. You could just in the distance see into the room, and there was a guy in a really cheesy-looking robot suit. We rolled our eyes, and I thought “yep…..Val Kilmer movie…”, but we stayed. The robot guy seems to be in the room, there are shots fired, he jerks as though hit, and then staggers backwards to the balcony….. Oh. So you can see the setup. This ought to be interesting to see, people thought. Then there was a consultation……and they decided to build another layer onto the boxes……this took another half an hour, twenty minutes at least. More standing around. A huge amount of time went by. Roberto had an early plane to catch (if I recall correctly), and frankly, watching the assistant to the assistant to the assistant to the chief box-taper build a huge pile of cardboard boxes gets a little old really fast.
…and it was only a Val Kilmer movie that I’d never go to see anyway. We took him back to his hotel and said goodbye.
[Present day. Today (Saturday night 3rd Dec. '05 ) in fact!]
(more…)


The other thing that’s nice about the 
Well, after the wonderful and exquisite treasures on the inside of the exhibition (see my
A glance told me that I had to linger there and take some photos of the truly spectacular tat (junk) that they are selling there. Some of it is just such great tat, and I wanted to share it with you.
Top of the list is the King Tut wine rack (top left). It is just priceless. I was tempted to get one for our resident wine expert, JoAnne. But luckily, I could not affort it. These things are shockingly expensive.
There were lots of other things, such as ties of various sorts with designs of spectacularly poor taste, paintings of the artifacts, plastic crowns and head-dresses that you could wear, sceptres and crooks, etc. Maybe some of this stuff was good, and you actually bought it. I don’t mean to offend… I did not look for very long, and may have missed some treasures amongst the other stuff. I’ll spare you the details of the other stuff, and instead show you this collection of…tut-dolls. Wonderfully tacky….to the point of being cute, in fact. (Also good dolls for kids, though…..)

Well, I’ve just returned from an excellent concert at Frank Gehry’s wonderful Walt Disney Concert Hall (photo at left by Tom Bonner). The Los Angeles Philharmonic (the Hall has been its home since it opened in Fall 2003) had as guest conductor Andras Schiff, who is one of those marvellous people who can direct from the piano while playing remarkably complex material. It was a program of Mendelssohn (String Symphony No. 10 in B minor), Schumann (Introduction and Allegro appasionato, Op. 92), Haydn (Piano Concerto in D major, Hob. XVIII: 11) and closing with Schumann again (Symphony No. 1 in B flat major, Op. 38 -Spring).
Schiff was just fantastic, and the orchestra was really solid, as usual. He played the Haydn with delight and a level of electricity that I’ve not seen for a while brought out of that material, even though its brightness is quite conducive to that sort of treatment.
The other thing that catches my attention a lot are the musicians who are not doing something the whole time. This can be interesting for a host of reasons, and not just the obvious, which is your curiosity about what they must be thinking about while waiting, and when are they going to come in. This is often the timpanist, but it is quite easy to work out when they are going to be needed most of the time. But tonight was a special treat for me. They had a triangle guy on the last piece! If you don’t know the piece very well -and I did not- it is not clear when he’s going to come in, and so you can sit and try to anticipate depending upon how the music is developing. The piece’s popular title is “Spring” so there’s clearly going to be some need in several places for bright sparkly springy bits in both quiet and loud places. Challenge to get into the mind of the composer there and see if you can anticipate. The other thing that was notable was that Mr. Triangle had not one but two chairs. He had one in which he sat in a state of readiness for the majority of the piece, but eventually he did stir himself, and pick up his triangle and one of his two tiny metal traingle-beater-sticks (do you “beat” a triangle or “tickle” it? And why do you need two sticks?) he had carefully laid out. He did his thing for a short while and then he sat in the taller chair, as he was to play soon after. I think of that second chair as his chair of preparedness – in the other chair he’s merely in readiness – or is it the other way around? I’ve enlarged the picture of the orchestra that I snapped secretly (no flash or noise of course) to show you the triangle guy, his chairs, and his equipment.