3 posts tagged “sf”
(04-09) 20:28 PDT SAN FRANCISCO -- It was an Olympic-sized fake-out, and by the end of the day, instead of the violent clashes that some had feared, the Beijing Olympic torch run left only thousands of frustrated protesters on one end of the city and mostly relieved runners and officials on the other.
The finger-pointing is bound to go on for days about whether changing the route last minute was right. But on Wednesday, Mayor Gavin Newsom and other officials said that once they got a good look mid-morning at the chanting, surging, flag-waving crowds along the torch's advertised route, they felt they had no choice.
"If we had started down that (original) route, I guarantee you would have seen helmet-clad officers with batons pushing back protesters," San Francisco Police Chief Heather Fong said.
Complaints about the bait-and-switch rang long and loud from many among the estimated 10,000 people milling along the original route all morning. Many rallied for a range of causes, such as China's human rights record and even the idea that the Olympics should be free of politics, and they viewed the torch run as an opportunity to vent their positions before a national audience focused on the torch's only stop in North America.
All anticipated a noisy, politically charged experience, perhaps even as dramatic as the demonstrations in London and Paris. Instead, the city pulled a fast one, evident from the moment the first runner emerged from AT&T Park and ducked into a cavernous warehouse on Pier 48 instead of heading up the Embarcadero as planned. Before the crowds could fully react, the torch runners soon emerged mysteriously two miles away on Van Ness Avenue and started a low-key trot northward into the Marina.
Hundreds of police officers flanked the runners on foot and on motorcycles and bicycles, but they were not needed much. The whole torch run, once the runners began their radically altered route at about 2 p.m., took less than two hours. Rather than furious clashes between protesters, there were mostly screams of support and delight at seeing the torch go by.
It could have been the world's most multicultural strip show backstage at the South of Market club 1015 Folsom on Saturday night. In one corner, Talita Elias rubbed on body glitter while her mother completed the delicate task of pinning her sequined yellow G-string to her underwear. In another, Kellita Garton hiked up the frilly red bra that matched her red high heels and jeweled eyelashes. And in the center of the room, Omari Weaver ran through the fleet jumps and muscled chest pumps of the routine he hoped might make him King of this year's Carnaval, the feathers of his gladiator-style costume flying.
"I'm going to be free in the heart, free in the soul, free in my energy, my passions," the 34-year-old Hayward resident said, eyes shining between streaks of white face paint. "It's all about freedom."
It's also about fun and lots of flesh at Carnaval, the Mission Neighborhood Centers' wild festival and parade celebrating the traditions of Latin America - and beyond - on Memorial Day weekend in the Mission District. And this year, as the event gears up for its 30th anniversary, the pressure to deliver was on for the eight finalists vying to shake it as Carnaval King and Queen.
The contestants Saturday were all fierce competitors, having gyrated and shimmied their way through a field of 24 at the February preliminaries. But the real test awaited them in the cleared center of a packed dance floor, where seven judges seated on the balcony above would score them not just for authenticity and skill but also for pure excitement. Each competitor had three minutes to get the crowd roaring, six minutes if performing with a partner, though dancers would be judged individually.
SOURCE OF THIS STORYIt's fitting that the
Lorraine Hansberry Theatre's last production in its longtime home
should be August Wilson's "Fences." In its 20 years at its Sutter
Street theater, now slated to become an Academy of Art University
gymnasium, the Hansberry has been the Bay Area company most closely
associated with the late playwright's work, having presented almost all
of his sweeping 10-play cycle of 20th century African American life. True, Artistic Director Stanley E. Williams has staged "Fences"
before, in 1990 on this same stage. But the Pulitzer Prize-winning
"Fences" has always been the most commercially successful play in the
cycle (last week, Best of Broadway producer Carole Shorenstein Hays,
who produced its blockbuster 1987 Broadway run, announced plans to
bring it back there next season). And Williams' fairly solid
production, which opened Saturday, closes an exceptionally strong
season on a note of sustained resonance. The 1950s segment of the cycle, "Fences" is in many respects the
most conventional, which seems fitting (it was a convention-ridden
decade). Wilson's usual broad array of sharply etched characters is
focused more tightly on one - the towering figure of Troy Maxson
(originated by James Earl Jones), the former Negro League home run
king, now a Pittsburgh garbage collector whose bitterness poisons his
roles as father and husband. It's an immensely challenging role and stage and TV actor ("Malcolm
in the Middle") Alex Morris inhabits it with imposing strength,
dignity, dangerously simmering anger and a rich, deep baritone
perfectly suited to Wilson's arias of relived glories and broken
dreams. His performance is bolstered by Elizabeth Carter's deeply
etched portrait of his well-matched wife Rose, and Axel Avin Jr.'s
determination as their son Cory, whose college aspirations are crushed
by his father. "Fences" is Wilson's "Death of a Salesman," with Troy as clueless
about the changing society as Willy Loman, with the added fence of
racism keeping him from the American dream. The drama centers on a
father's dashed hopes perverting his relationship with his sons
(Kieleil Deleon is the good-time, amoral son). Also, like "Salesman," a
friend (Vernon D. Medearis as Bono) vainly tries to help. Adultery
plays a similar - if more cruel - disillusioning role. SOURCE OF THIS STORY