The Strand is a vacant movie theatre at 1127 Market Street. I have many fond memories of its years as a repertory movie house, having seen such shows as a triple-bill of the Evil Dead series (I, II, and Army of Darkness), a double-bill of Ken Russell, showing Lair of the White Worm and Gothic, and also a rather esoteric Spanish film entitled Tras el Crystal (In a Glass Cage), which involved a Nazi pedophile rendered helpless in an iron lung(!). Given the films I saw there, I associate the Strand with the darker elements, while for a time afterwards it became a haven for an even seedier class of film, the XXX.
In the late eighties and early nineties, their calendar lived on our refrigerator and determined the activities of certain evenings each month. Films that were not shown at the art school where we went, as they were in fact commercial (sometimes barely) and feature length, not at all the fare of the art-for-art's-sake purists who comprised the avant-garde.
Thus the Strand represented an alternative to Alternative film. Films not of Hollywood and not mainstream, nor of the art school canon. And for this I always appreciated the Strand.
In truth, it was sadder to see the Strand operating as a smut house than to see it shut down. Imagine perhaps seeing a friend turning tricks. And then they die, Which is sadder?
I would like to remember the Strand as a grande dame, a bit down on her luck, but full of fire, and life, and culture. One that is not the multiplex monoculture.
I propose to project trailers and B-movie reels of the era, with sync audio, popcorn and refreshments. Anything of this sort may border on nostalgia, but this will be no maudlin exercise (a funeral), but an appreciation of the life. I seem to prefer these when someone who I know, especially in the arts, has died.
Presently I am seeking permission from the owner to unboard the frontage in order to show rear-projected (from inside) 16mm films on a frosted glass, the audience invited to stand or sit nearby on the sidewalk (permits, yes). There will be a hot popcorn maker and should the owner wish to make a little pocket money he/she is invited to reprint old playbills, memorabilia for purchase.
No telling when the building itself will be destroyed and some grand vision built there in the shadow of that attrocity the Federal Building which stands behind. http://sf.curbed.com/tags/strand-theater
Artist's Statement
One manner in which this project fulfills the ideal goals of the Mid Market Art Project is that the audience, the public, is drawn into the movie-going experience in a non-standard but more engaging fashion: on the street. Normally one goes to the theater, and enters a solitary space, while surrounded by others, paradoxically. There is no social element, once the movie starts, one hopes in order to retain the almighty suspension of disbelief necessary for true escape. In our premise "Do the Strand" operates as an outdoor screening, unique and attractive for the social interaction, which is primary to the experience. Also, at the 7th/Market location, the screening will be subject to the randomness of the area, and will interest and attract those who are simply wandering by.
As a sort of touchstone, I see the screenings operating on a number of levels:
A) The owner wants to sell or lease the theater. The screenings could only assist his efforts.
B) A collective is forming to do just that - We, "Do the Strand" are a group of professionals intending to amass our expertise and form a coherent group wishing to rent space at the Strand with the intention to purchase.
--i) as artists and craftsmen we are able to transform the space in a meaningful and aesthetic fashion.
--ii)offices open to non-profits and groups of artists wanting to have legitimate office space for business and also a space for public performances.
C) In preserving the Strand there would remain a landmark of Mid-Market's past transformed into a viable update, centered on filmmaking and other performance art, music, etc. as a type of social media (the new catch-phrase), but redefined as media which is social, i.e. gets people out of the house to rub elbows with one another, and engage in dialogue that's not transmitted via internet.
The artist's role is to provoke thoughtful discussion. See "Defenestration" at 6th/Howard by Brian Goggin, predating my move to SOMA in 1992 by a few years. It has some longevity for one thing. It engages you such that you immediately ask "What does it mean?" but in the context of an abandoned building which is integral to any discussion. An artist asks the pragmatic question "How are these things attached," and other DIY thoughts which come to mind. A cynic may ask "Is it safe?" Mr. Goggin is welcome to join our collective, unlikely though it be.
All in all I see "Do the Strand" as a petri dish in which all manner of life forms may arise. In our era of accelerated technological evolution, I see a great opportunity for intelligent and beautiful lifeforms to be created. They just need the conducive environment.
"Rhododendron is a nice flower, but it can't beat...Strand power."
-Roxy Music, "Do the Strand"
Primary Personnel
Bruce Miller, Stagehand Local 16 IATSE, and filmmaker
BFA, 1990, SFAI, Film, with Spring Show Award
Sometimes resident of SOMA, 49A Moss St., 94103, (3 years)
Screenings at Rotterdam International, Bay Area Now II, dadafest (SomArts), see http://millerbruce.blogspot.com/
imdb: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0588007/
Ian Sundahl, Filmmaker, painter, film archivist
MFA, 1997, SFAI, Painting
imdb: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm1935079/
Zoe Merideth, Graduate student, Harvard School of Design, Urban Planning
BA, 2009, UC Berkeley, Geography
S. Fey Epling, Esq.
U.C. Hastings College of the Law 1997
AB Oberlin College 1987
Ramon Churruca, Performance artist, actor
BFA, 2001, SFAI, Performance (New Genres)
imdb: http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0161523/
OccupySF 2011
My ratty ass tent next to the concrete ball. Me in the chair?
Wednesday, December 21, 2011
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Waiting for Kitten
My Christmas present is a hotel. The Sagrada Familia didn't have one. They had the manger. I have a 2 br in Berkeley but it doesn't have electricity or running water. A little clandestine locksmithing and a by-the-book approach: in after dark, out by daylight. No lights, wear black, no visitors. The door was wide open, seriously. I'll take a lie detector on this one. Cleaner when I leave than when I got there, except I am not cleaning up the eggs someone threw at the wall in the other bedroom. I thought raccoons as the window was open, but probably not. They would have eaten them, and not plastered the walls with them.
A dose of bureaucracy today as I forgot my wallet in a locker at the Y, and when I got back, after realizing this when the 7th tradition was called at a meeting, it was gone. No one turned it in at the desk either. What do they get? $23, a bankcard for an overdrawn account, a library card, an EBT card w/ $56 on it they can't use, and my ID. So, I get to go to the DMV, after getting a voucher for reduced rate at NBC (thank you), and borrowing money from a very good friend (thank you Stella). I was all set to 'spange' (spare change contracted). Had cardboard and all, was gonna make a sign. Never done it, nothing against those who do, but it's a step in the wrong direction, I felt. Made a call instead. And then a guy in a work truck saw me walking down to Shattuck with the cardboard I no longer had to use, and said 'Hey, I'll give you money.' Out of the blue. Didn't even make eye contact w/ the guy, I was already past him. So, I didn't have to stile hurdle BART on the way in. The way out is no sweat. Prefer to pay, but in dire circumstances...
Happy Holy Days.
A dose of bureaucracy today as I forgot my wallet in a locker at the Y, and when I got back, after realizing this when the 7th tradition was called at a meeting, it was gone. No one turned it in at the desk either. What do they get? $23, a bankcard for an overdrawn account, a library card, an EBT card w/ $56 on it they can't use, and my ID. So, I get to go to the DMV, after getting a voucher for reduced rate at NBC (thank you), and borrowing money from a very good friend (thank you Stella). I was all set to 'spange' (spare change contracted). Had cardboard and all, was gonna make a sign. Never done it, nothing against those who do, but it's a step in the wrong direction, I felt. Made a call instead. And then a guy in a work truck saw me walking down to Shattuck with the cardboard I no longer had to use, and said 'Hey, I'll give you money.' Out of the blue. Didn't even make eye contact w/ the guy, I was already past him. So, I didn't have to stile hurdle BART on the way in. The way out is no sweat. Prefer to pay, but in dire circumstances...
Happy Holy Days.
Monday, December 19, 2011
Occupy Berkeley is the shit
When I lived here, I really did not like Berkeley. 4 flavors of cops: UC, BPD, BART, and AC transit (true: they gave my gf a $250 ticket for pulling over in a bus zone just long enough to let me out). The buses are strict as hell, as opposed to MUNI that I can ride all day on one paper xfer or hop on via backdoor. And Berkeley is laid-back/uptight: PC Nazis enforcing their aroma-free vegan free-trade Birkenstock patchouli oil manifestos written on repurposed hemp paper. And I sometimes hate the smell of ganj. Not my D.O.C.
But Occupy has an SF refugee tent where I recognize and know a growing number of true Occupiers. There's sunshine. All day long, not 9:30 to 11 am. No prob w/ an open flame. Thus coffee. Running water at the fountain. Grass where you can pound in your tent stakes. Get it, Justin Herman aka Bradley Manning aka Occupy SF? You're defending a Bocce ball court from its proper use. You're two blocks away from the real enemy the Fed at 101 Market. You cockblocked us on the Mission space, which is only 20 blocks away. A 10-minute 14 bus ride away or a half hour walk. Sunny Mish. Cute chix, coffee shops. It's the barrio? You gotta be kidding. It's gentrified. A base of operations...nevermind. So done with the General Assembly which has the vote what direction Occupy takes, because only they can sit through their interminable meetings where nothing gets accomplished in 5 hours of infighting and backstabbing.
I support Occupy, but it's hard enough being on the streets without being a hunger artist/petri dish for contagion of the week. I need amenities: sunshine, coffee, place to leave my shit where it doesn't walk.
Berkeley Occupy. It's the shit.
But Occupy has an SF refugee tent where I recognize and know a growing number of true Occupiers. There's sunshine. All day long, not 9:30 to 11 am. No prob w/ an open flame. Thus coffee. Running water at the fountain. Grass where you can pound in your tent stakes. Get it, Justin Herman aka Bradley Manning aka Occupy SF? You're defending a Bocce ball court from its proper use. You're two blocks away from the real enemy the Fed at 101 Market. You cockblocked us on the Mission space, which is only 20 blocks away. A 10-minute 14 bus ride away or a half hour walk. Sunny Mish. Cute chix, coffee shops. It's the barrio? You gotta be kidding. It's gentrified. A base of operations...nevermind. So done with the General Assembly which has the vote what direction Occupy takes, because only they can sit through their interminable meetings where nothing gets accomplished in 5 hours of infighting and backstabbing.
I support Occupy, but it's hard enough being on the streets without being a hunger artist/petri dish for contagion of the week. I need amenities: sunshine, coffee, place to leave my shit where it doesn't walk.
Berkeley Occupy. It's the shit.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Why I bother
I was not at Occupy (still am because Occupy is of the mind) because I wanted to get arrested and earn my Liberal Scout merit badge, nor to get beat up by the fuzz and thus alleviate my white guilt. I was there because I got evicted when I told the No. Beach Italian mafia fuck what to do with his cockroach-infested hotel. He called the cops. I was 'threatening'.
A better reason would have been that I was disgusted when I see that moneys that should be spent on my children's education, and in preserving decent and affordable homes for myself and for them (not one and the same, alas) is used to bail out a corrupt banking system and to fund wars over shit I really do not give a rat's ass about (fighting a war over the WTC is about as useful as fighting the cause of Katrina. Less perhaps, because a bulldozer building levees is tangible, not pseudo-ideological masking cultural/religious conflict). And the other motive, oil; well, let's not go there, Texan. I refused to put oil in my car the last 10K miles because I wanted it to die, die. They built some stout MFing beasts in the late 60s - it was a V7 at the end, smoking like a shithouse on fire when I sold it for 5 times what my dad paid when I was 15. (Want a good investment? Classic cars, fivefold profit in 30 years. No, nevermind, won't be gas in 30 years, n'shallah). Infernal combustion engine. Hitler admired Ford's assembly line process for volume production and adopted his methodologies for his own nefarious ways. The feelings were mutual if you read the Deerborn Gazette between the wars.
But back to the bailout. Someone in the sauna at the Y was saying 'The banks will pay back the money, if they haven't already.' "Um," I chimed in finally, ""but what about the wreckage?" I saw a family of five yesterday carrying their belongings, the youngest theirs in pillow-cases that must have come from their beds. When they had beds. I am beyond crying. I am pissed.
Too big to fail - was that the catchphrase for a minute? Why not - utter chaos? The iceberg vs. the ship of fools aka the System? I'm for the iceberg, which broke off due to climate change, btw. I'm fine with chaos; I live in its offal everyday. Our hopes are that chaos will lead to Anarchy, which is, in fact, Order. Without rule. Who said anything about disorder? Interdependent collectives organized loosely around skills and interests, a free interchange of commodities, values precipitated upon local supply and demand, without currency other than intrinsic value determined in a bartering dynamic. Your paper ain't shit, unless I like the pictures on it or need to wipe my ass.
To continue with the paradox that Anarchy is Order, Proudhon's enigmatic statement: I deny myself the benefits of the coosh life - is that not an almost ascetic self-discipline? If you've read thus far, you realize my intelligence, perhaps to the conclusions you are averse, but nonetheless recognize the empirical and salient points. Capitalism, on the other hand, is the real clustrus fornicatus, everyone reaching hand-over-fist to rake in as much from the pot that they can get - it's a dog-eat-dog world and a rat race to boot. The rats won, haha. (Darwin was misinterpreted and one should read P. Kropotkin's "Mutual Aid" as a eupeptic.)
And my fellow Merkins, we are a role model to the world, Hollywood showing how sexy a stretch limo Hum-V is pulling up to the pat-ourselves-on-the-back awards for producing monoculture.
If I speak in the terms of an overeducated liberal, I apologize, but I do believe that one should speak to one's audience in their own language, as did that ponce Baudelaire when he said, at the end of To the Reader
, "You know him, reader, this exquisite monster,
-Hypocrite reader,-my likeness,-my brother!"
A better reason would have been that I was disgusted when I see that moneys that should be spent on my children's education, and in preserving decent and affordable homes for myself and for them (not one and the same, alas) is used to bail out a corrupt banking system and to fund wars over shit I really do not give a rat's ass about (fighting a war over the WTC is about as useful as fighting the cause of Katrina. Less perhaps, because a bulldozer building levees is tangible, not pseudo-ideological masking cultural/religious conflict). And the other motive, oil; well, let's not go there, Texan. I refused to put oil in my car the last 10K miles because I wanted it to die, die. They built some stout MFing beasts in the late 60s - it was a V7 at the end, smoking like a shithouse on fire when I sold it for 5 times what my dad paid when I was 15. (Want a good investment? Classic cars, fivefold profit in 30 years. No, nevermind, won't be gas in 30 years, n'shallah). Infernal combustion engine. Hitler admired Ford's assembly line process for volume production and adopted his methodologies for his own nefarious ways. The feelings were mutual if you read the Deerborn Gazette between the wars.
But back to the bailout. Someone in the sauna at the Y was saying 'The banks will pay back the money, if they haven't already.' "Um," I chimed in finally, ""but what about the wreckage?" I saw a family of five yesterday carrying their belongings, the youngest theirs in pillow-cases that must have come from their beds. When they had beds. I am beyond crying. I am pissed.
Too big to fail - was that the catchphrase for a minute? Why not - utter chaos? The iceberg vs. the ship of fools aka the System? I'm for the iceberg, which broke off due to climate change, btw. I'm fine with chaos; I live in its offal everyday. Our hopes are that chaos will lead to Anarchy, which is, in fact, Order. Without rule. Who said anything about disorder? Interdependent collectives organized loosely around skills and interests, a free interchange of commodities, values precipitated upon local supply and demand, without currency other than intrinsic value determined in a bartering dynamic. Your paper ain't shit, unless I like the pictures on it or need to wipe my ass.
To continue with the paradox that Anarchy is Order, Proudhon's enigmatic statement: I deny myself the benefits of the coosh life - is that not an almost ascetic self-discipline? If you've read thus far, you realize my intelligence, perhaps to the conclusions you are averse, but nonetheless recognize the empirical and salient points. Capitalism, on the other hand, is the real clustrus fornicatus, everyone reaching hand-over-fist to rake in as much from the pot that they can get - it's a dog-eat-dog world and a rat race to boot. The rats won, haha. (Darwin was misinterpreted and one should read P. Kropotkin's "Mutual Aid" as a eupeptic.)
And my fellow Merkins, we are a role model to the world, Hollywood showing how sexy a stretch limo Hum-V is pulling up to the pat-ourselves-on-the-back awards for producing monoculture.
If I speak in the terms of an overeducated liberal, I apologize, but I do believe that one should speak to one's audience in their own language, as did that ponce Baudelaire when he said, at the end of To the Reader
, "You know him, reader, this exquisite monster,
-Hypocrite reader,-my likeness,-my brother!"
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Suss the sitch
"An unsecured vacant building can be a hazard to the community, and it is important that as a member of the community one takes the time to check out these buildings to make sure that everything is fine. While some people say that one should contact the police to check out such buildings, I believe that they should not be bothered with such small matters when they have so many important things to worry about."
I concur. While the writer, homesnotjailssf.org advises that doors can sometimes get 'stuck' and to use appropriate tools to free up that bothersome door as well. I carry a Gator socket and wrench, a pair of channel locks, a C-wrench, and a two-in-one screwdriver. One should also verify the integrity of the security by means of a simple window check, and it may also be necessary to assure proper fire escape functioning with a lasso-type pull-down method. I use a 1 1/2" nut tied to climbing rope for these purposes. So as not to disturb any neighbors, the pull-down is usually accompanied at a time when other noises are more prevalent, say when a rush of traffic is passing by or, depending on the neighborhood, when the bars are closing and rowdies are busy being rude, loud and attracting their own attention.
Luckilly, my job is training me this week on fall-protection and rigging. I am now comfortable on a truss 30' in the air and in tieing knots while 'at height'. Bowline sure, trucker's hitch, figure eight and clove. I always wear black, not because I went to art school, but that it is mandatory in my profession. We want to 'blend in,' not be seen. I like how my profession and my hobbies dovetail.
All the best,
Brujo
I concur. While the writer, homesnotjailssf.org advises that doors can sometimes get 'stuck' and to use appropriate tools to free up that bothersome door as well. I carry a Gator socket and wrench, a pair of channel locks, a C-wrench, and a two-in-one screwdriver. One should also verify the integrity of the security by means of a simple window check, and it may also be necessary to assure proper fire escape functioning with a lasso-type pull-down method. I use a 1 1/2" nut tied to climbing rope for these purposes. So as not to disturb any neighbors, the pull-down is usually accompanied at a time when other noises are more prevalent, say when a rush of traffic is passing by or, depending on the neighborhood, when the bars are closing and rowdies are busy being rude, loud and attracting their own attention.
Luckilly, my job is training me this week on fall-protection and rigging. I am now comfortable on a truss 30' in the air and in tieing knots while 'at height'. Bowline sure, trucker's hitch, figure eight and clove. I always wear black, not because I went to art school, but that it is mandatory in my profession. We want to 'blend in,' not be seen. I like how my profession and my hobbies dovetail.
All the best,
Brujo
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Bruku
Adam, you my main man.
Got my back in yo silly ass hat.
2 Horses, we never got there.
Did we? Truck never came. Fuck.
Stan, you a magician brother,
Made my bike disappear.
Spike, mon frer
Vous avez une certain chouet a quoi
Jonny just go do what you do, do.
Fockin retadded.
Jim you you punk ass punk ass
Punk. You were there.
Shale those books grow legs,
Restless they are, I guess.
Timmy's got crabs! Ah ha!
Hauled some rock reds too.
Dena girl take a break.
I know, I know.
JD. Well you tried.
Can't change them. You tried.
Bo and Harvey. Eternal.
Fedora hat and dog.
Got my back in yo silly ass hat.
2 Horses, we never got there.
Did we? Truck never came. Fuck.
Stan, you a magician brother,
Made my bike disappear.
Spike, mon frer
Vous avez une certain chouet a quoi
Jonny just go do what you do, do.
Fockin retadded.
Jim you you punk ass punk ass
Punk. You were there.
Shale those books grow legs,
Restless they are, I guess.
Timmy's got crabs! Ah ha!
Hauled some rock reds too.
Dena girl take a break.
I know, I know.
JD. Well you tried.
Can't change them. You tried.
Bo and Harvey. Eternal.
Fedora hat and dog.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Positively 6th Street
Slept in a bed for the first time in a month last night. Thank you Christie and North Beach Citizens. Woke up sweating. Odd, but ok. Soft mattress, good for my injuries. Coccyx, etc. The woods upstairs jamming to Ozzy. Also ok. Got my phone back from Luxor. Got an alarm clock. Thank you Zoe.
My itinerary today - report availability for work to Union. Write Union rep email explaining absence for last month. Apply for GA/EBT since I did the EDD thing yesterday. A trip to Tom Waddell or another clinic to see if I can knock out this pre-pneumonic bronchitis aka walking pneumonia. The warm bed made me feel like I am healing, rather than worsening. The woods upstairs (you can tell in their choice of 107.7 - the Bone) cut the volume down around 11 in a very civilized manner. Pink Floyd, of course. As opposed to the wingnuts at Justin Herman Plaza.
I might go on another march but that's it. Or try to get that workgroup going on Anarchist Lit. Except the second survey book I was given walked from the bartering table while I was talking to John.
Took a hotel room on 6th for the week - much gratitude to NBC. Was noticing how clean it is compared to JHP. 6th Street. That's right. Much cleaner than OccupySF. I suppose one could draw out a metaphor that the putrid filth and squalor there are an expression of the disgust they (formerly we) feel regarding the inequities of the System. But I think that would be more than generous.
I do in fact understand the Trash and Burn feelings: imagine living with the thought of being washed out at any time by a huge rain storm, or blown away like the kitchen in the 50mph windstorm (Nature did what the SFPD and the DPW could not). ---A guy, nicely dressed, comes up to me during a lull in the winds, and asks if I have heard of Weather Modification. Indeed I have and I believe it is powered by a massive ELF transmission plant in Alaska and tracked by way of chemtrails. A few bugs to work out, and the Chinese have a certain advantage in the prevailing windstream position...
Then there is the constant threat of being herded in with barricades like cattle. Sometime since my last post, I was still hoping for that Mission space (cockblocked by the G.A. who don't even live there, held hostage by 'interested parties in the Occupy movement'). I did like the tower that was built out of the SFPD barricades in the center, and the golden cow they put on top. So I do understand, and I do forgive. But nonetheless: Hey, hippies, pick up your Goddamn shit. (to the tune of Pink Floyd).
Coupla things I need anyone is reading this: baby powder, crab nets, gack chicken for bait. And socks, and a pack of Camels. Off the booze, for real this time. Might have to attend some meetings. Not kicking and screaming this time - the cold nights and that effing wind have humbled me. More like bitching and moaning.
Thanks for reading.
My itinerary today - report availability for work to Union. Write Union rep email explaining absence for last month. Apply for GA/EBT since I did the EDD thing yesterday. A trip to Tom Waddell or another clinic to see if I can knock out this pre-pneumonic bronchitis aka walking pneumonia. The warm bed made me feel like I am healing, rather than worsening. The woods upstairs (you can tell in their choice of 107.7 - the Bone) cut the volume down around 11 in a very civilized manner. Pink Floyd, of course. As opposed to the wingnuts at Justin Herman Plaza.
I might go on another march but that's it. Or try to get that workgroup going on Anarchist Lit. Except the second survey book I was given walked from the bartering table while I was talking to John.
Took a hotel room on 6th for the week - much gratitude to NBC. Was noticing how clean it is compared to JHP. 6th Street. That's right. Much cleaner than OccupySF. I suppose one could draw out a metaphor that the putrid filth and squalor there are an expression of the disgust they (formerly we) feel regarding the inequities of the System. But I think that would be more than generous.
I do in fact understand the Trash and Burn feelings: imagine living with the thought of being washed out at any time by a huge rain storm, or blown away like the kitchen in the 50mph windstorm (Nature did what the SFPD and the DPW could not). ---A guy, nicely dressed, comes up to me during a lull in the winds, and asks if I have heard of Weather Modification. Indeed I have and I believe it is powered by a massive ELF transmission plant in Alaska and tracked by way of chemtrails. A few bugs to work out, and the Chinese have a certain advantage in the prevailing windstream position...
Then there is the constant threat of being herded in with barricades like cattle. Sometime since my last post, I was still hoping for that Mission space (cockblocked by the G.A. who don't even live there, held hostage by 'interested parties in the Occupy movement'). I did like the tower that was built out of the SFPD barricades in the center, and the golden cow they put on top. So I do understand, and I do forgive. But nonetheless: Hey, hippies, pick up your Goddamn shit. (to the tune of Pink Floyd).
Coupla things I need anyone is reading this: baby powder, crab nets, gack chicken for bait. And socks, and a pack of Camels. Off the booze, for real this time. Might have to attend some meetings. Not kicking and screaming this time - the cold nights and that effing wind have humbled me. More like bitching and moaning.
Thanks for reading.
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