27 September 2006
Black Rock City & beyond
Cutting the idyllic Narragansett summer short, we flew from Boston to Oakland on the 26th of August where we were surprised, to put it mildly, to find that Avis had only an SUV for us and not the expected RV. Mustering our flexible talents, we nevertheless continued onward to 'the Ridge' in Nevada City for Gary's incomparable margaritas. The next day we purchased a tent and provisions in Grass Valley. That evening, along with Gary and Stef, we enjoyed at Bruce and Holly's homemade Neolithic chestnut pasta that was simply delicious.
We arrived at Black Rock City the following day around 18:00 right in the midst of a sandstorm that made it almost impossible to see where we were driving. The first of our group to arrive, we found that the frontage property for our meeting place destination was already occupied. I left Richard with the van to scout out another inner area that was not compromised by the sound of a generator. With the skies darkening, I returned to find Richard standing next to the SUV, engine running, with our water, all our provisions, jackets, etc. along with the keys locked inside. Welcome to Black Rock City!
No phones, no AAA services, already thirsty, the rangers only response was 'good luck'. Eventually, however, two angelic chaps from the Marching Band wedged the door open with yellow plastic tent stakes just enough to slip in a coat hanger that someone else supplied us and after some intense and frustrating manoeuvring the door popped open to our extreme exhilaration. The entire 'episode' took about an hour. It was too late to set up the tent in the dark, so we ate some food and slept in the vehicle, and Gary found us the next morning. We relocated to the spot at 2:40 and Guess that he and Stef's son Jake had found, and Camp Esperanza came together with frontage viewing, a shower, a kitchen and a delightful reception area.
Slowly, the incredible beauty and experience of Black Rock City began to dawn on us. The friendliness and generosity of everyone were the dominant feature of the Burning Man Festival whose 2006 theme was 'Hope and Fear: The Future.' And there was a loquacious Hope camped right next to us who had passed on vacationing with her family to come to the Nevadan site with her friend Gail. For our camp, Sean and Gn were the next to arrive. The next day, Wednesday, Stef appeared with Jake's ever-so attractive wife Mary. The others to arrive included Jake's dad Michael, sometime ridge-resident when not sailing Tony, Tony's daughter Caitlinn and Tony's friend Tom. Altogether, we were Camp Esperanza whose central art project was Jake's Get Stoned with Jesus. Among the options for this last were Styrofoam rocks that one could throw at Jake/JC as he moved about with white robe and a flaming, bleeding heart painted on his chest while carrying a cross.
In all, there is no way to convey the uniqueness of Burning Man to anyone who has not been there. The visuals were endless: costumes of ever sort and just about every kind of creative moving contraption criss-crossing the playa and plying the circular and radial streets. Every camp was inviting, and delectable foods and meals were offered continuously. The ubiquitous artworks were incredible. Nakednesses and even nudity were never dominant but were part of the optical punctuations and were completely natural. In short, the week-long Black Rock City was a celebratory, gift-economy community that sets itself up the way the world should be. Huge exotic tents covered with carpets, cushions and pillows and filled with delightful music, such as the Winking Lotus, provided welcoming oases in which to rest, chill out and relax at one's leisure, while Center Camp supplied a perpetual feast of entertainment. In particular, I enjoyed the Entheon Village with, among other things, a haunting painting by an artist whose name I do not remember but titled 'The March of Progress' depicting animals and a few humans fleeing a grotesquely huge and advancing vortex of cadaverous sewage, technology and warfare. I heard one person comment before this work, "But there are no computers. That is the real problem!"
One wonder of Black Rock was the freedom from the news media. For one blessed week, we escaped the perpetual bombardment of incomplete, biased, inaccurate and one-sided 'information'. The horrors of Iraq and Afghanistan could, for a moment, be ignored if not forgotten. Instead, we could concentrate on the preponderance of celebratory youth rather than that misguided, intimidated and visionless youth that turns instead to 'my way only' carnage and self-destruction. The sham of the Unelected President and his deceitful cohort represents the antithesis of the Burners' dream and way of life. We were beyond the pale of the corporate complex with its military alter ego: there were no logos, no advertising and, indeed, the only items that could be purchased at Black Rock City were coffee and tea at Center Camp and ice from the Artica concession.
True enough, the infrastructure and organisation do not always match the product produced, and Stef summed up Burning Man as the 60s on steroids – adding, "We could go dig up some bamboo shoots if you wish." One of my favourites was a sign proclaiming "Carrot Inspection Station 100 feet ahead." For me, Burning Man represents a rejection of Judeo-Christian values and any hierarchy of heaven and hell. If we are to be condemned to eternal punishment, Burning Man is an affirmation that we will transform any inferno into paradise. There is a whole religious tradition that wants us to feel guilty for enjoying the beauty of this life. Accidents happen. Even 911 must ultimately be seen as a cultural accident in human development.
Caitlinn was the first Esperanzite to depart. She had come for the art work and, once she had had her fill, the discomfort was too much for her. One day, while cycling, Richard and I found ourselves engulfed in a three-hour sandstorm. But the latter part of the week, the weather was perfect, and even the evenings remained warm and comfortable. One afternoon, Stef, Gary, Richard and I rode our bikes far out onto the empty playa away from the City. But before long we found ourselves at a Tiki bar in the middle of nowhere where we enjoyed snow cones with rum. We continued on to hop from bar to bar. Stef, Mary, Tony, Tom and Michael were the next to leave. Gary, Jake, Gn, Sean, Richard and I remained until Monday which was the only day I missed the sunrise. It took us, however, eight hours in the SUV just to get out of Black Rock City. The product does not always match. Still, it was an entertaining duration with eye-candy galore, two lovely young ladies naked save for high heeled shoes sauntering along the playa and the occasional margarita stand offering food and drinks.
And then we were back on Wah Wey for a day of cleaning up and a great evening with Gary and Stef with a visit by Jake and earlier visits by Michael, Kenan and Cat. The following day included a spontaneous lunch with Don and Robert in Roseville and arriving in Santa Rosa by evening for two days with Richard's daughter Iana, her partner Mechelle and their delightful, beautiful and ball-of-fire two-year-old daughter Piper Kincaid. The feeling and joy between Iana and Mechelle that extends into their domestic environment constitute an exceptional loveliness. It was an honour to witness and be the happy recipient of their special hospitality.
Apart from an all-too-brief Healdsburg visit with UCSB classmate Ted and his charming wife Andi, we were then in San Francisco for our first initial experience of chill after the largess of warmth in Nevada, Nevada City and Santa Rosa, but this was more than compensated by our hostess Rosalie's own warmth and infectious energy. The Golden Gateway townhouse that is to be found within a bamboo jungle was to be our home for the week. It was a whirlwind of a visit. Our second evening we were in Oakland for a mini-Family reunion at Diane's enchanting home with, once more, Iana, Mechelle and Piper as well as Iana's mom Coral, Saint Lynne and Coral's friend Paula who has a home near Aups. It was old, old times. Earlier that day, Richard and I went to see Al Gore's An Inconvenient Truth, a must see film for anyone with an interest in the future of our planet. Hope and fear: there is plenty of both in this splendid documentary.
On the Sunday, with Rosalie we enjoyed a splendid Opera-in-the-Park picnic with her friends Mic, Ann and Ehtesham. Another feast of music and delicious food it was. And we had there the additional blessing of another darshan of Saint Lynne along with a delightful Dorothy looking more radiant than ever. That evening, Rosalie, Mic, Richard and I were again in the East Bay, this time at Liz and Carol's El Cerrito home for Becky's birthday celebrations. Highlights of the evening included conversations with Leonard, Peter, Jason, Peggy, Denise, Dorn and Tony as well as glimpses of Becky's stunning children Will and superlatively stunning Gabrielle. The food, as one has come to expect with this crowd, was not bad either.
One of our post-Black Rock City joys has been the instant bond felt with other Burners. The experience as a whole is a complete age-leveller. We met Miamians Chris and Angel on the BART coming back to the City. The next night, we had a similar encounter with the waiter at Hayes Street Grill when Matt and Kevin treated Richard, Richard C. and me to dinner. Matt even took it upon himself most gratefully on my part to clean my shoes at Richard's after he, Richard and I had spent a magically magnificent day at Land's End and around the Palace of the Legion of Honor.
By Tuesday evening we found ourselves at Pier 23 with Rosalie, Mic, Ann and Ehtesham for jazz pianist Ray Sjkelbred. Totally enjoyable. The only downside to the day was Kim getting stuck in freeway traffic and unable to join us for a planned evening get together.
On Wednesday, Richard and I saw Almadovar's most enjoyable The Flower of My Secret at the Castro Theatre. That evening, with Macha and Corby, we finally got to our favourite Mexican restaurant, Zapotas, on 18th Street. Another great time and endless conversation on all sides.
Thursday, we visited the new De Young Museum. The collection is superb, and I think I will come to like the new building while missing the old one acutely. Afterward, and after visiting the Japanese Tea Garden, Kinmont, the person in the Bay Area that I have known the longest (46 years), met us, and we went to Campton Place for drinks. It was good to see him. That evening, Rosalie's friend Ayataka prepared a most delicious sukiyaki dinner to which Don and Robert also came.
And Friday the 15th was my birthday. Rosalie had left first thing in the morning for her Boston to Montreal cruise. Richard and I went first to Union Square to hear a concert by the Ten Tenors (from Australia). We later ritualised next to Fort Mason and eventually did three rounds of Irish coffee at the Buena Vista Café. At Twin Peaks, we switched to margaritas, encountered former priest Gary whom we have met there before and met Alan and Geoff visiting from London. Zapotas was the capstone to a relaxed and perfect day.
We had to return the next morning to Twin Peaks to fetch my sunglasses that I had left there. With a new, and more manageable, rental, we headed to Gary and David's in Salinas for a lovely dinner and evening with Gary while David was off to the Monterey Jazz Festival. All four of us breakfasted together the next morning. Later ever-spirited and fun Mary took us to Rosine's for eggs Benedict and vanilla milkshakes before we took the 17-Mile drive through Asilomar and Pebble Beach. We ended that night at our favourite hide-away, Deetjchen's in Big Sur. The following night, after the incomparable drive down Route 1, we stayed with sister-in-law Pat in Santa Barbara. We all dinned together at Brophy Brothers at the yacht harbour with Efale, Roger and Pennell. It was good to see everyone. We visited Jean the next morning before we drove to San Diego to stay with Louis and Marlowe for four nights. One day, lpaganus drove up from Baja to lunch with us. As she got lost, our time together was shortened, but it was still a most pleasant visit. Marlowe and Louis gave a party one evening and invited five friends over to join us. All in all, we had a wonderful visit with Marlowe and Louis, although Louis, having been ill for several years but only diagnosed with Parkinson's two weeks ago, was struggling for the most part. As the elder of our San Francisco 'Family', Marlowe remains a font of information on how to navigate the autumn years of life.
On our return to Los Angeles, we stopped in Laguna Beach to see if we could find Jack and Ray, my 'astrological parents'. No one on Canyon Acres Drive knew their whereabouts, and the only trace of their round home at the end of the drive was the pillar on which it used to stand. Continuing on, in Culver City we were able to enjoy David Ligare's exquisite exhibition of 'Ritual Offerings' at Helene Del Rio's Koplin Del Rio gallery on Washington Boulevard. Without doubt, David remains one of my most favourite of artists. His works exude a crystalline clarity that are pregnant with captivating mystery.
Sunday afternoon we met Richard's sister-in-law Jonne-Marie at Forest Lawn and visited my grandparents' resting places there as well as that of Jonne-Marie's son Jonathan. A wonderfully […] drive through Burbank followed with the three of us ending up in Lake Balboa Park. Champagne at home with Paul, and then we were taken to one of those little known but excellent restaurants, Amici's, in Beverley Hills.
The next day, Richard and I visited Geary's Disney Concert Hall. What a stupendous creation – every aspect presenting one thrill after another. Money seemed to be no obstacle, and it shows. Loved it, and may have liked the Cathedral more if I had seen it first. The day ended at Toni's to which Paul and Jonne-Marie were also invited. This has become a tradition. Toni was exhausted due to her brother's stay while undergoing tests and treatment at Cedar Lebanon until earlier the same day, but she rose fabulously to the occasion, as always, and produced a fabulous dinner, as always. Shall we describe the evening as 'syncopated'?
And then yesterday we flew back to Rhode Island with my sister meeting us at the airport and driving us back to Narragansett. Today has been four hours plus in the dental chair. We will spend Friday evening in Boston and fly back to London on Saturday. Email in the UK will be iffy at best, but we arrive in Amsterdam by the 30th for the month of October where, the gods willing, it will be functional.
I want to thank everyone we saw throughout September for the good times and making the whole month as special and enjoyable as it has been for us. Let me conclude with my lesson from Black Rock City. As I said, Hope and Gail had been camped next to us. We watched the gals all decked out, wings and all, heading out in the evening for the Burning community experience. The next morning, it turned out, Hope had had during the night a transformative insight. She realised that she did not have to be in Black Rock but wanted to be instead with her vacationing family. So she and Gail packed up and left. My curiosity, however, when they explained what had happened and what they were doing, was Gail's role in all this. Gail or Gale, which she agreed could connote 'Fear', when asked, said simply that she had come along to help Hope find herself; she only wanted what was best for Hope. So, for me, the moral of Burning Man 2006 is that Fear is the devoted companion of Hope.
My love to one and all,
Michael