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zBrown

Ice climber
May 11, 2018 - 09:55pm PT
It’s 10 minutes to showtime. Step up to the three-story Italianate brick box at Fillmore Street and Geary Boulevard. Avert your eyes from the payday-loan operation that takes up much of the ground floor. Submit to a brief search by security.

Then climb the stairs, grab an apple from the giveaway bin and check out the hundreds of vintage psychedelic posters. The 10 twinkling chandeliers. The four balcony arches. The dance floor crowded with about 1,200 lively bodies. The stage.

This is the Fillmore, where American pop music and youth culture took a sudden psychedelic turn in the mid-’60s.

Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix, Jefferson Airplane, Carlos Santana, Steve Miller and the Grateful Dead played some of their most important early shows here. Otis Redding and B.B. King won over some of their first white audiences here.

And the music plays on, in a building more than a century old. That alone, for me, made the auditorium a more compelling destination than the T-shirt shops and hippie haunts of Haight-Ashbury. But the auditorium is also part of a larger, long-running drama — complete with an unsolved killing — that few out-of-towners know.

When I saw my first Fillmore show last year (the Wood Brothers, a bluesy folk band), I learned that the auditorium had been built as a dance hall in 1912, converted into a skating rink in the 1930s, then reconverted to hold dances and concerts.

San Francisco’s living room
But I wanted to hear more. So I returned for another show in April.

The headliners this time were Ibeyi, Paris-based 23-year-old twins whose first album was released in 2015. They bounded onto the stage, grinning widely, in matching beige and white jumpsuits, like Afro-Parisian astronauts.

“We’ve missed you, San Francisco!” said singer and keyboard player Lisa-Kaindé Díaz. Then, she and Naomi Díaz launched into an evening of neo soul, drawing on the twins’ roots in Cuba and western Africa.

“This is the Green Room, the headliner’s dressing room,” Fillmore production manager Tony Biancalana had told me the day before, leading me backstage. It was surprisingly small, about 15 feet square, full of mirrors and cabinets.

“We had a German band in once. The manager said, ‘Zee band don’t like zee dressing room.’ I said, ‘Hmm. Hendrix didn’t mind.’“

Biancalana, whose parents roller-skated in this building in the 1940s, has worked in the hall for 34 years.

Though the auditorium doesn’t offer public tours, its standing-room-only setup encourages roaming. There’s a restaurant area upstairs, the walls are crowded with posters from long-ago shows and a grand image of Jerry Garcia presides over the stairwell. The downstairs walls are filled with historic photos, including a racy portrait of Janis Joplin near the bar.

Biancalana showed me the rounded corners (which date to the building’s years as a roller rink); the poster from the Grateful Dead’s first Fillmore show in 1965; and about 100 years’ worth of electrical-system improvisations.

And he explained about the apples. Fillmore concert promoter Bill Graham started the tradition, Biancalana said, because “he wanted you to feel like you were coming into his living room.”

The Changing Tunes
The Fillmore neighborhood, part of a historically working-class area known as the Western Addition, has been known for more than 100 years for its ethnically mixed population, including many Japanese American families. But after Japan bombed Hawaii and the U.S. entered World War II, those Japanese Americans were incarcerated in internment camps.

Meanwhile, African Americans moved in as shipbuilding and other military operations increased in the Bay Area.

By the early 1950s, the Fillmore neighborhood was home to so many jazz, blues and R ‘n B clubs that boosters were calling it the Harlem of the West. Many city leaders, however, were calling the neighborhood a ghetto and laying plans for decades of demolition and redevelopment.

In the midst of this turmoil, an African American entrepreneur named Charles Sullivan leased the dance hall, renamed it the Fillmore Auditorium, opened it to audiences of color and brought in James Brown, Ike and Tina Turner and Little Richard, who arrived with a young Jimi Hendrix as a sideman.

If the Fillmore District was the Harlem of the West, the auditorium was its Apollo Theater.

As a ‘70s teenager fascinated by ‘60s rock, however, I knew none of that. For me, the Fillmore story began in late 1965, when the San Francisco Mime Troupe subleased the venue for a fundraiser that featured the very young Jefferson Airplane and five guys who had just changed their name from the Warlocks to the Grateful Dead. The cost of admission was $1.50.

The audience, San Francisco Chronicle music critic Ralph J. Gleason wrote, was “a most remarkable assemblage of humanity … leaping, jumping, dancing, frigging, fragging and frugging on the dance floor.”

This was big. And the mime troupe’s business manager — a 34-year-old from New York named Bill Graham — realized it.

So he quit the troupe, subleased the Fillmore from Sullivan and quickly earned a reputation for making canny musical choices and driving a hard bargain.

In other words, he wasn’t a hippie, and he didn’t create the Fillmore as a music venue. But Graham built up the Fillmore concert operation, then took over booking the venue after Sullivan was shot to death in 1966, a crime that was never solved.

**With these shows from 1966 through early 1968, Graham made something new — the modern rock concert.

Cream came to play**. So did Quicksilver Messenger Service, Country Joe and the Fish, the Doors, the Byrds, the Yardbirds and Frank Zappa, often accompanied by psychedelic light shows that entranced many concertgoers high on LSD or marijuana. (LSD was legal in California until late 1966.)

“Bill did things like booking Cecil Taylor [an avant-garde jazz pianist] to open for the Yardbirds. Or having Woody Herman [and his big band] open for the Who,” said Dennis McNally, a San Francisco-based author, historian and former publicist for the Grateful Dead.

Then Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated in Memphis, Tenn., sparking outrage and violence in black neighborhoods nationwide, including the Fillmore. Graham, who had begun working with other venues, abandoned the Fillmore Auditorium, moved to the Carousel Ballroom on South Van Ness Avenue and renamed it Fillmore West.

After 2½ years as a magic address, the original Fillmore was a footnote. So it remained for decades as the neighborhood’s redevelopment lurched along.

Extensive damage in the 1989 earthquake didn’t help. In 1991, Graham, who had been working to revive the venue, was killed in a helicopter crash.

But in 1994, the rehabbed Fillmore reopened.
**

//
In transition
Nowadays it stands at the convergence of three evolving neighborhoods, which are mostly tourist friendly.

One is the Fillmore District, a mixed bag that includes two Michelin-starred restaurants and several vacant storefronts, all within a block of the theater.

This was the heart of black San Francisco, author David Talbot has written, “and redevelopment tore it out.”

The second neighborhood is Pacific Heights, whose smart shops and trendy restaurants have been creeping south on Fillmore Street toward the auditorium for years.

The third is Japantown, a reconstituted ethnic enclave where two sleek and recently upgraded hotels stand among ramen spots and gift shops.

In other words, dinner nearby and a show at the Fillmore these days can mean almost anything.

Within half a mile of the venue, I had a bacon breakfast at Sweet Maple, a bowl of ramen at Hinodeya, and a small-plates dinner at State Bird Provisions, all great meals.

I shopped at Browser Books and listened to funky jazz in the Boom Boom Room — a gritty, intimate venue on Fillmore Street that holds fewer than 200 people.

I slept in the Kimpton Buchanan, strolled two-thirds of a mile to check out the Victorian painted ladies houses of Alamo Square Park, and wished I’d had another hour to check out the Church of 8 Wheels, formerly a Catholic house of worship turned roller rink.

‘They get the chills’
And, of course, the auditorium itself, part ’60s shrine, part contemporary scene, harbors its own surprises.

In October Golden State Warriors star Steph Curry and his wife, Ayesha, delighted the audience by stepping onstage to sing with folk musician Johnnyswim. (Yes, there’s video.)

Some nights, the headliner is a seasoned veteran: Los Lobos, Lucinda Williams, Willie Nelson or (until his death in 2017) Tom Petty. Other nights, you find up-and-comers such as Ibeyi, whose energy was as boundless at show’s end as it was at the beginning.

“For any young band, when they get to play the Fillmore, and they know who stood on that stage — they get the chills,” McNally had told me just before the show. “It’s still quite meaningful.”

As Lisa-Kaindé Díaz prowled the stage, her Afro flopped wildly. Naomi Díaz busied herself with percussion instruments, including her own body — she’d often stand to slap her thighs and chest and snap her fingers.

The audience was every shade of white, beige and brown, mostly women. There were no guitar solos — no guitarist, for that matter. Behind the twins, a screen displayed trippy video sequences — a far cry from the extended riffing and analog light shows of decades gone by.

The twins closed with “Deathless,” an anthem of resilience, urging the audience to sing along until it seemed everyone on the floor was roaring.

“We are deathless. Whatever happens, we are deathless.”

Then we all filed out, collecting apples and posters as we went.

The Fillmore
As Lisa-Kaindé Díaz prowled the stage, her Afro flopped wildly. Naomi Díaz busied herself with percussion instruments, including her own body — she’d often stand to slap her thighs and chest and snap her fingers.

The audience was every shade of white, beige and brown, mostly women. There were no guitar solos — no guitarist, for that matter. Behind the twins, a screen displayed trippy video sequences — a far cry from the extended riffing and analog light shows of decades gone by.

The twins closed with “Deathless,” an anthem of resilience, urging the audience to sing along until it seemed everyone on the floor was roaring.

“We are deathless. Whatever happens, we are deathless.”

Then we all filed out, collecting apples and posters as we went.

The Fillmore District
For a jazzier scene in a throwback setting far smaller than the Fillmore, step across Geary Boulevard to the Boom Boom Room at 1601 Fillmore St. Once known for its association with John Lee Hooker, the Boom Boom Room is a long, narrow lounge (no food) with a round booth reserved in case Hooker, who died in 2001, should return.

These days, owner Zander Andreas books “blues, boogie, soul, groove and funk,” usually with a cover charge of $7-$15. I caught a rollicking, organ-driven jazz-funk show by the Wil Blades Starting 5.

The SF Jazz Center (201 Franklin St., San Francisco; [866] 920-5299, www.sfjazz.org), about a mile southwest of the Fillmore, includes the 700-seat Miner Auditorium and the 100-seat Joe Henderson Lab.

Japantown
Just north of Geary Boulevard, a compact, reborn Japantown includes the Japan Center mall, several ramen and sushi spots, the graceful Peace Pagoda and the stylish Kabuki and Kimpton Buchanan hotels.

Pacific Heights
Head north on Fillmore Street from the auditorium and within a few blocks you’ll notice the shops getting fancier, the prices getting higher. This is Pacific Heights. If you keep climbing to Broadway, you’ll be able to see San Francisco Bay from the top of the hill.

Along the way you’ll pass dozens of boutiques and restaurants, including the Grove at 2016 Fillmore (where I had two hearty breakfasts); Jane at 2123 Fillmore (where I waited in a close-quarters line for a good lunch); and Chouquet’s, 2500 Washington St. at Fillmore (where I enjoyed a better lunch, smoked trout salad, at a sidewalk table).
Bushman

climber
The state of quantum flux
May 12, 2018 - 06:52am PT
Set to some Miles Davis and John Coltrane was a dream about a meandering road trip through the foothills of the Sierra near Placerville. The shortcut was always the scenic route.
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - May 12, 2018 - 08:24am PT
early AM
early AM
Credit: mouse from merced
flaps down
flaps down
Credit: mouse from merced
HMD neebee
HMD neebee
Credit: mouse from merced
HMD gypsy
HMD gypsy
Credit: mouse from merced
HMD, all you Muther's
HMD, all you Muther's
Credit: mouse from merced
'shroom
'shroom
Credit: mouse from merced


T Hocking

Trad climber
Redding, Ca
May 12, 2018 - 09:33am PT
Mornin Flames.

Mouse, left ya a voice mail and text message about beta for next weekend.
Gimme a call or text message when ya can, I'll be in n out today.
Hope yer doin well buddy!
Gnome Ofthe Diabase

climber
Out Of Bed
May 12, 2018 - 02:45pm PT
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
Cool.
on a more photographic note,
Would you step in between the Alien monster and anything, never mind this
To see The Gnome's Face, Look To the left hand side, away from the too...
To see The Gnome's Face, Look To the left hand side, away from the toothy center edge.
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
The ghoul-thing from Ghost Busters?
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
hell hound & Alien Monster
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - May 12, 2018 - 04:13pm PT
big bird
big bird
Credit: mouse from merced
Gnome Ofthe Diabase

climber
Out Of Bed
May 12, 2018 - 04:54pm PT
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - May 13, 2018 - 07:26am PT
Steve McKinney hang gliding off the big hill. 1986.... he took super experienced pilots...they pied out....he didn't.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YjzjNxgZh_Y
hooblie

climber
from out where the anecdotes roam
May 13, 2018 - 08:12am PT
grabbed the onewheel and hit the outer links for some poached turf ... delicious! when's the full moon?
Credit: hooblie

Gnome Ofthe Diabase

climber
Out Of Bed
May 14, 2018 - 01:28pm PT
It was a stop the bus moment,
caught me off guard,
when czd ask'd me if I could use a gender neutral term when referring to him.
He was having fun watching my head explode. . .

me: Ah. . No - Dude. I call my wife & daughter DOOD!.

We were getting along in a very cool way. total strangers, polar opposites, in almost every way. We were linked by an understanding of stone, of hard won core strength, applied to stone, un-spoken understanding, sender & spotter.



ndr


Knowing that he must hate the "G" thing no offense meant, czd .
^V^V^V^V
As credited, the names of the problems,

This area was protected as a public swimming park by a man named Martin,hence the 1st problem's name "Martins Last Stand"
If you look on the upper left edge, there is a black scar from where a good horn of rock 'broke' off turning this once do-able(5.10++) a test piece way back when, back again,into a test piece for the next generation.(v6?)

There had also been acknowledgement, if not agreement that,
after a long mid-day visit by a fox,
a special treat for "czd",
that some nod toward the 1st peoples or vision quest ?
something ?
so I 'll ask here, What to name 12 feet of v7?











seems very nice stay cool
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
No one cares about the archaeology
The Great Chief,Crying Tears of chalk
The Great Chief,Crying Tears of chalk
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
This is an area where, both pre-revolutionary & pre-civil wars, 1st Nations people were well documented.
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
there are clear chisel marks to create teeth in a 'skull'
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
Also, just a valley away from the home and stomping grounds of ole' PT Barnum.
This, is a most conflicted spot for me. I know it is Archaeologically ...
This, is a most conflicted spot for me. I know it is Archaeologically interesting. Known as a 1st peoples area, bought, by white settlers from the Ramapo tribe, the pond a land mark/boundry, in 1690s deeds/maps.
Credit: Gnome Ofthe Diabase
`






mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - May 15, 2018 - 06:02am PT
good morning -- there are turkeys up here (and everywhere)
that bygge byrd of mine is a red-shouldered hawk btw
I have yet to SEE a turkey but this week their calls are closer -- there are too many trees to get a shot so I may need to stalk them
call me Cabela Boy
(or Eddie McBean)
Weather Gal is calling for T-storms along the Sierra crest this aft
see you later
have a good day

Dingus, if you're ever in the hood, my phone # is posted on the OP.
Dingus Milktoast

Trad climber
Minister of Moderation, Fatcrackistan
May 15, 2018 - 06:34am PT
I'll make it a point, Mouse. Life has been super busy of late, very little time for play in the mountains. Dull boy and all that rot.

DMT
T Hocking

Trad climber
Redding, Ca
May 15, 2018 - 07:03am PT
I have yet to SEE a turkey but this week their calls are closer

Woke up this morning and 7 of them were feeding out of Mo's wild bird feeder.

Looks like it's gunna be a wet weekend in the Ditch,
guess I better bring a tent if'n I can't sleep in the van at Yellow Pines. :(

See ya Fri. evening Mouse,
be prepared. :)
Bushman

climber
The state of quantum flux
May 15, 2018 - 03:17pm PT
Per favore non dare la colpa a Cosa Nostra

Sitting in
my yard today
eye level with
the blades of grass
An ant lumbers
towards me

Crawling up my nose
I sneeze
and where the ant goes
I don’t know
A gentle breeze it
blows my way

If I could catch that
passing cloud
and tie a rope
around it’s tail
a rescue that would
make my day

But I stay buried
to my neck
in setting concrete
wishing at
the very least
I’d paid my debt

-bushman
Bushman

climber
The state of quantum flux
May 16, 2018 - 11:19pm PT
Ives was Channeling Me Again
(3 pounds of meat, and 80% water)

I was out there
Working the south line
On tower sixty four
In the upper canyon
When the rains came
And the lightning
And I asked myself
Is this a wise thing?
Hanging it all out there

The smell of burnt hair
And the ozone
Still it wasn’t clear
When my heart had stopped
Arriving at the ER
I didn’t recognize my face
Or the voice that came
Out of my throat

Ives had made it clear
I didn’t belong here
Said it was not my choice
Using his name
Taking his place in the world
Who was I to think
It was ever going to be OK

As if my sanity in this world
Shamed and visceral
Would let me off the hook
So with a Vulcan nerve pinch
I checked out of the hospital room
Back to Tower 64

I swear I don’t remember
Ives says I stood out in the rain
Crying that his name
Was not my own
Waiting for the thunder

My family doesn’t know me
I’ve no memories or passwords
Pretending I belong here
As someone I don’t know

If you see me up there
On tower 64
I was only never lonely

It’s been way too long
Now these arteries and iron grip

Remind me I was Ives the master

-bushman


Really miss that Mouse here (Mouth kut ear)...though he is much needed at Jim’s Memorial.
RIP J. Bridwell, Yosemite Rock Master.
T Hocking

Trad climber
Redding, Ca
May 17, 2018 - 07:50am PT
Mouse Bump.

See ya tomorrow evening buddy,
I'll be bringing a sleeping pad and camp chair for ya, also a tent in case it rains. Need anything else? Don't forget yer camera. ;)

hooblie

climber
from out where the anecdotes roam
May 17, 2018 - 04:36pm PT
neebee

Social climber
calif/texas
May 17, 2018 - 09:41pm PT
hey there say...

just update... will post the other star charts, soon as i can...

did not forget... :)
Psilocyborg

climber
May 17, 2018 - 09:56pm PT
mouse from merced

Trad climber
The finger of fate, my friends, is fickle.
Topic Author's Reply - May 22, 2018 - 08:03am PT
family portrait
family portrait
Credit: mouse from merced
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