Fox and the Bird
Deep Ellum Arts Festival
Dallas, Texas
There is no better music than local music. There is no better local music than Oak Cliff music.
Fox and the Bird
Fox and the Bird
Fox and the Bird
Fox and the Bird
Fox and the Bird
Tag Archives: Dallas
Dead End
Frisco, Texas
“Quite possibly there’s nothing as fine as a big freight train starting across country in early summer, Hardesty thought. That’s when you learn that the tragedy of plants is that they have roots.”
― Mark Helprin, Winter’s Tale
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“Swerve me? ye cannot swerve me, else ye swerve yourselves! man has ye there. Swerve me? The path to my fixed purpose is laid with iron rails, whereon my soul is grooved to run. Over unsounded gorges, through the rifled hearts of mountains, under torrents’ beds, unerringly I rush! Naught’s an obstacle, naught’s an angle to the iron way!”
-Herman Melville, Moby Dick
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“The train bore me away, through the monstrous scenery of slag-heaps, chimneys, piled scrap-iron, foul canals, paths of cindery mud criss-crossed by the prints of clogs. This was March, but the weather had been horribly cold and everywhere there were mounds of blackened snow. As we moved slowly through the outskirts of the town we passed row after row of little grey slum houses running at right angles to the embankment. At the back of one of the houses a young woman was kneeling on the stones, poking a stick up the leaden waste-pipe which ran from the sink inside and which I suppose was blocked. I had time to see everything about her—her sacking apron, her clumsy clogs, her arms reddened by the cold. She looked up as the train passed, and I was almost near enough to catch her eye. She had a round pale face, the usual exhausted face of the slum girl who is twenty-five and looks forty, thanks to miscarriages and drudgery; and it wore, for the second in which I saw it, the most desolate, hopeless expression I have ever-seen. It struck me then that we are mistaken when we say that ‘It isn’t the same for them as it would be for us,’ and that people bred in the slums can imagine nothing but the slums. For what I saw in her face was not the ignorant suffering of an animal. She knew well enough what was happening to her—understood as well as I did how dreadful a destiny it was to be kneeling there in the bitter cold, on the slimy stones of a slum backyard, poking a stick up a foul drain-pipe.”
― George Orwell, The Road to Wigan Pier
Giant Jenga
Deep Ellum Arts Festival
Dallas, Texas
Deep Ellum, Dallas, Texas
Deep Ellum, Dallas, Texas
Deep Ellum, Dallas, Texas
Deep Ellum, Dallas, Texas
Going to the Barber
It was right at a year ago that I went to The Death Star in Arlington to see a simulcast of The Dallas Opera’s Production of Turandot.
Cowboys Stadium – The Death Star
I went mostly for the experience of an odd event (seeing an opera in an enormous Texas Football dome) but it was a transformative event. Now I’m an opera fan.
In the past year I managed to see Carmen at the Winspear and a handful of other simulcasts. Now it was time for another evening at the massive home of the Cowboys (now called AT&T stadium). The Dallas Opera was showing The Barber of Seville.
Candy wasn’t able to go, so I was on my own. I took some time off and left work early – wanting to get to the Mid-Cities before the Friday rush hour traffic choked the transport system. As I worked my way through the freeway system (the stadium is over 35 miles from where I work/live) I thought about how I have worked to get away from a car-oriented lifestyle. I think I drive about a third of the miles that I used to. It’s a bit of a shock when I’m forced to fight my way across the city like that – though so many people do it all day, every day.
I arrived extra early, found some food, and sat in the parking lot (it was a warm, beautiful day) and finished a long Kindle book I’ve been fighting through for a while. That was actually sort of nice.
Because I was one of the first people in I had my choice of seats. I ended up right in the middle, right beside the little patio where they were doing the filming of the introductions and stuff. The showing didn’t seem to get as much attention as last year – and the crowd looked like it might have been a little smaller. Still, it was a few thousands – a lot of people for an opera.
First they showed a Bugs Bunny Cartoon – The Rabbit of Seville, of course.
Then the opera started.
It’s a surprisingly good place to see something like that. Of course, the acoustics are horrible. There isn’t much you can do about the cavernous echo in a vast chamber like that. They did the best – the floor was lined with an array of massive speakers pointed outward. Still, it sounded like a second orchestra was hammering away slightly out of tune and far away. But your ears get used to it and it wasn’t half bad.
The High Definition Screen in Cowboy’s Stadium is famous around the world and to see it live… it is even more impressive than that. The whole setup is disconcerting to look at – the mind simply can’t comprehend an indoor space that large. It’s a shock to see a tiny ant-like person walking across an open area – and your mind realizes exactly what you are looking at. When you tip your head slightly up the screen completely fills your field of view with its ten million plus LED-lit pixels.
It’s not the size of the thing that impresses – it’s the quality. It brightness, sharpness, and overall quality of image is better than the best HDTV you will see anywhere else. They did a great job of filming. You can see details never visible in the opera house except in the most expensive of seats. That’s usually a good thing – except when you get to see how hard the performers work and how much they sweat.
The opera itself was a hoot. It was the first comic opera I had seen and that took a little getting used to. It emphasizes the fact that for many places at many times Opera was an entertainment for everybody. The Barber of Seville is sort of an Adam Sandler movie with great music. A lot of pratfalls, mugging, crude jokes, and corny romance. And a happy ending, of course.
I enjoyed how they put in a sort of conflict in the second act. Evil Bartolo shows Rosina her letter that she wrote to “Lindoro” and convinces her Lindoro is only using her on orders from Count Almaviva. She believes him and is sad. But when Lindoro arrives and she lights into him all he has to do is reveal that he really is Almaviva and all is fine. The conflict is solved so easily and quickly that it is almost a satire – saying that in the world of Figaro no sadness is allowed to exist for more than a quick aria or two.
The music, of course, is a masterpiece. The overture justifies its fame, and Figaro’s opening number, Largo al factotum is a hoot.
The time went by fast, and everybody was happy in the end. Next door to the stadium is the Ranger’s Ballpark and the baseball game ended (the home team won 1-0 on a walkoff in the eleventh inning) at about the same time – so the traffic getting out was tough… but it was still all smiles. I had tried to park in such a way that I could get out easier, but that didn’t work – it was truly a futile precaution.
George Bannerman Dealey
“The possession of knowledge does not kill the sense of wonder and mystery. There is always more mystery.”
― Anaïs Nin
Statue of George Bannerman Dealey
Dealey Plaza
Dallas, Texas
George Dealey
Dealey Plaza
Dallas, Texas
“The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.”
― Arthur Conan Doyle, The Hound of the Baskervilles
What I learned this week, April 11, 2014
A THOUSAND WORDS: WRITING FROM PHOTOGRAPHS
The murals from
Trinity Groves.
West Dallas, Once A Ramshackle Place, Is Now A Hot Spot, Thanks To Food
Heavy Hitter beer flight at Luck, in Trinity Groves, Dallas, Texas
The 345 Tearout Plan Demands Reasoned Debate, Not Divisive Misdirection
What Does South Dallas Think About Highways? Let’s Ask a ‘Militant’ Black Leader.
My Technium on Winfrey Point, White Rock Lake. Dallas, Texas. Look carefully and you can see a guy on a unicycle.
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The Bureaucrats Are Trying to Ruin White Rock Lake Again, but the Lake Will Not Abide
View from the high point of the Jefferson Viaduct Cycletrack, Trinity River, Dallas, Texas
Is I-345 teardown idea a chance to finance the Trinity River toll road?
Trinity River Bottoms
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The morning Dallashenge from the Triple Underpass in Dealy Plaza. Maybe a couple days early.
The Tunnels Didn’t Kill Downtown Dallas; Dallas Killed Downtown Dallas
I agree with this article. I worked downtown in the 80’s and the tunnel system was a vibrant addition – to a great extent it was the best thing downtown. It was full of restaurants and little shops and gave office drones access to parks such as Thanksgiving Square. Lately, I had a Writing Marathon downtown in some cold weather and I wished the tunnel system was still intact. With the cold in winter (the freezing wind whips around those big buildings in a wind tunnel effect strong enough to lift you off our feet) and especially the killer heat in summer the tunnels give a welcome respite. The underground can be viewed as an addition or an extension of a vibrant street life, not as a detriment.
The hinged writing surface dropped down on the secretary.
William Faulkner’s Hollywood Odyssey
Finally, a map to show why you don’t go to Corpus every weekend.
Here are the 13 films SNL parodied, that won Razzies, and that everyone completely overlooked as critical gems…except for the fact that, not only are they not bad, but some of them are downright good. Give ’em another go. They deserve it.
13 Films That Need To Be Cult Classics
Afronauts
I look everywhere for ideas to lie about… to write fiction about. One of the worst, but most tempting, sources is this internet thing.
Surfing around a few weeks ago I stumbled across a series of photographs that referred to the Zambian Space Program of the 1960’s. Further research revealed that it was for real. This guy, Edward Makuka Nkoloso, from 1960 to ’69 claimed to have a program that would send a seventeen year old girl to the moon before the Americans or the Russians.
He called the members of his program “Afronauts.”
This story seemed to be a fertile source for a fictional story. I moved the location to Latin America and the Zambians became descendants of escaped Jamaican slaves – the voyagers became “RastaNauts.”
But my momentum stalled about a third of the way through and the little pile of text sits in its file unused, waiting, about as fertile and useful as the Zambian space program itself.
Meanwhile, Candy and I bought tickets to a new film that is premiering at the Dallas International Film Festival about the heady days of the Starck Club here in Dallas… and looking through the festival catalog, I saw a showing of a short, experimental film called, Afronauts.
Maybe this could give me a kick in the pants… I was there.
I bought my ticket online and discovered the film was showing at 10:45 PM on a Sunday at the Angelika as part of a collection of five odd works in a “Late Night Shorts” exhibition.
Even Better.
I showed up at the festival box office with my receipt in plenty of time and talked with the people behind the counter.
“I’m looking forward to this, I have always liked short films, but it’s hard to see them now,” I said.
“Back in the day,” I said, showing my age, “When HBO first came out, they would show short films between the feature movies. Sometimes I would enjoy the shorts more that the full-length fare.”
“You know, they have a Short Film Channel on cable now,” one of the guys said.
“Yeah, I saw that once tuning around. But it isn’t in our package. I’d probably have to pay for the volleyball channel or something like that to get it.”
“What’s wrong with volleyball?” asked one girl working there. She obviously didn’t get the point.
After waiting around, I traipsed upstairs to wait in line. I was one of only a couple folks that had a ticket, everyone else had a big film festival badge draped around their neck. It was a film nerd-fest. One guy beside me in line was espousing on the subject of proper punk attire – criticizing one guy with a leather jacket and bright red Mohawk because he, “was trying too hard.”
“How can you be showing off your uniqueness when you are wearing something that has become, in essence, a carefully regulated uniform. I’ve seen that exact jacket a half dozen times.”
He had a point.
The conversation then turned to rude animation. To illustrate his point, “I don’t know how they were ever able to get this stuff on the air,” he showed everyone a particularly obscene clip from Ren & Stimpy that he happened to have saved onto his phone.
For educational purposes only – this was the clip. NSFW – Not safe for anything… really. You were forewarned.
At this point, the doors opened and we went in. The films we saw were:
Flesh Computer
USA, 2013, 14 min., Color
Director: Ethan Shaftel
When his cybernetic pet project is put in jeopardy, the handyman of a decaying apartment building is forced to take a stand, blurring the lines between human and machine.
Effed!
USA, 2013, 19 min., Color
Director: Renny Maslow
Two friends pedal across a post-apocalyptic landscape on a tandem beach cruiser and face the question: when oil runs out, where exactly is the line that society can cross before it ceases to be a society at all?
Beasts in the Real World
Canada, 2013, 8 min., Color
Director: Sol Friedman
An experimental mixed-media short exploring the tenuous connections between a naturalist, a rare land-mammal, some ghosts and a pair of sushi chefs.
Afronauts
USA, 2014, 14 min., B/W
Director: Frances Bodomo
On 16 July 1969, America prepares to launch Apollo 11. Thousands of miles away, the Zambia Space Academy hopes to beat America to the moon. Inspired by true events.
Mr. Lamb
USA, 2013, 15 min., Color
Director: Jean Pesce
A dark comedy about a lonely waitress who is in love with her pen pal — the convicted murderer, Charles Lamb.
Flesh Computer was really good – probably the best of the lot. It successfully tread the fine line between weirdness and a comprehensive plot with characters you cared about. Fantastic use of special effects.
Effed! Was a fun romp through a dystopian future with some surprisingly recognizable actors. Especially notable was the ultimate bad-ass road warrior vehicle – a solar powered Segway carrying a helmeted rider armed with a baseball bat.
Beasts in the Real World was my least favorite. It had a good premise – some laughing hipsters place a small camera on the conveyor belt of a fast food sushi restaurant. The entertainment comes from the camera as it winds around and ends up back in the kitchen. There are a couple amazing scenes, but the story falls a little flat – especially when the most compelling character is a blobfish about to be sliced.
Afronauts was the most serious of the selections. A stylized look at the Zambian astronauts. An unforgettable vision, especially the mesmerizing Diandra Forrest as the young pilot, Matha. The drama is played out as the Apollo eleven landing bursts from a transistor radio. What happens? I’m not sure. But it is haunting.
Finally a hilarious, scary, and ultimately uplifting portrait of a woman infatuated with a jailed serial killer, Mr. Lamb. This was especially enjoyable because the director, Jean Pesce, was in attendance and enthusiastically answered questions about New York theater actors, heavy cameras, and shooting in extreme cold.
Then it was time to bundle my way home and get some sleep so I could show up at work early the next morning.
I’m not sure if I found any inspiration for my story but I did have a good time. Maybe next year I’ll buy a pass, take some time off work, and see a whole boatload of movies.
I don’t get to the theater as much as I would like any more.
Now, of course, I realize that I can find more short films that I could ever possibly watch on the internet. Even beyond youtube and vimeo – past hulu and netflix – there are sites and sites dedicated to collections of them, from the prosaic to the sublime.
Another rabbit hole to fall down into.
Blacksmith
“ARMOR, n. The kind of clothing worn by a man whose tailor is a blacksmith.”
― Ambrose Bierce, The Unabridged Devil’s Dictionary
I walked around the Dallas Heritage Village during the Jazz Age Sunday Social. I always like seeing the blacksmith shop. It was the same, with the same blacksmith as it was when I saw it almost two years ago.
I never have taken lessons there like I wanted to. Something I need to think about. Looks like fun.
Blacksmith forging a cross, Dallas Heritage Village
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In this world a man must either be anvil or hammer.
Henry Wadsworth LongfellowIt is better to be the hammer than the anvil.
Emily DickinsonIf you only have a hammer, you tend to see every problem as a nail.
Abraham Maslow
Water and Stone
The angry water rose until the earth was scrubbed down to bare stone. Still the flood mounted – but all they could do was stand around, watch, and engage in surprisingly upbeat, pleasant, and polite conversation.
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On the Dance Floor
Dallas Heritage Village
Dallas, Texas
Dancers
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Bill Chance 