Aja Brown's vision for Compton, CalTrans' houses, Matthew Bourne's "Sleeping Beauty," Dylan Brody's Thanksgiving, and Marv Gross' Thanksgivingkuh. Yes, we're possessive.
Compton Mayor Aja Brown takes cues from Old Town Pasadena
Compton new Mayor Aja Brown has only been in office about six months, but she already has a vision for her city. Brown says she's tough enough for Compton, and her plans for the ailing city prove it.
In a speech she gave at the Pat Brown Institute of Public Affairs, a non-partisan public policy center, she outlined her focus for Compton. Among other things, she’ll target the needs of families. Do that, and you address at least a couple of big problems: public safety and human trafficking, she says.
What has the new Mayor accomplished so far?
Brown says stretches of Long Beach Blvd. have become “prostitution row” in Compton and adjacent cities.
“The first form of legislation that we did is that we eliminated hourly motel rentals in the City of Compton,” Brown said.
But, for Brown, it’s not just about shutting down obviously seedy businesses. The 31-year-old USC grad says she wants to replace the negative activity that goes on in Compton with something positive.
“I think when people think of Compton of course they always think of gangster rap,” says Brown, “But if you ever had an opportunity to go to Compton, you would know that Compton is a beautiful city.”
But how do you take a city like Compton, which has such a reputation for crime and violence, and convince people that it’s changed? Brown says she’s seen it happen before.
“I actually grew up in the City of Pasadena,” Brown says. As recently as the 1980s, patches of Pasadena’s Colorado Blvd. were not nearly the ritzy, Tiffany-worthy destinations they are today. “...When I grew up Colorado Blvd. was a hotspot for drugs, gangs, prostitution, pawn shops, and now it’s one of the higher-end retail magnets in North L.A. County.”
Brown believes that if Pasadena can take a street like Colorado Blvd. and turn it into a ritzy retail strip, so can Compton. “If it can happen there, it can happen here,” Brown says.
You can listen to the broadcast version of Mayor Brown’s Pat Brown Institute speech, or the full version. And here's Brown's interview with "Good Day LA":
Charles Solomon remembers his private, passionate and protective friend, Diane Disney Miller
“Aren’t you going to ask me if he was a drunk?” she said. That’s when I met Diane Disney Miller, who died Tuesday at 79.
It was 1993, and Mark Eliot had just published “The Dark Prince of Hollywood,” a biography of Diane’s father, Walt Disney. Diane was furious about the book and didn’t like talking with the press, but agreed to give me the first interview she’d ever done.
She asked her question about Walt supposedly being a drunk, her eyes flashing with anger and her chin sticking out defiantly. And I said no, because I’d never heard he was. None of the artists I’d interviewed had ever seen Walt have more than one Scotch Mist, a drink that’s mostly ice. She later told me she that’s when she began to feel more comfortable.
"I got very angry ... It attacked my mother and father as people, it attacked their marriage. It was just something we couldn't let stand. When the media took this FBI link and ran with it and gave it credibility without questioning it, it became just too much. He was too good a man. When something's good, why do you want to tear it down? ... I would never attempt to deify him, and when people say that the family has tried to present a false picture of the man, it simply isn't true." -- Diane Disney Miller to Charles Solomon in the LA Times, 7/17/1993
After my article ran in the LA Times, Diane sent a note saying she’d be happy to help my research into her father’s work, and we quickly became friends. When we talked, it was always interesting to hear the links — and the disconnects — between Walt, the genius who completely re-imagined the art of animation, and the man who was just “dad” to her.
Diane and her sister Sharon were carefully raised out of the Hollywood limelight, where they preferred to stay. Diane’s philanthropic work ranged from the Joffrey Ballet and San Francisco Symphony to keeping children from acquiring the cigarette habit that killed her father.
But she always worked behind the scenes; she didn’t need plaques or public thanks, she was just doing what she felt needed to be done. When she appeared at the launch of the CD-ROM biography of Walt, she was genuinely surprised when fans lined up for her autograph. I had to explain that to them, she was royalty.
When I worked with Diane as an adviser on the documentary "The Man Behind the Myth" and the Disney Family Museum, I saw she truly was her father’s daughter. The energy, enthusiasm and dedication she brought to those projects reminded me of stories the artists told about Walt.
She surprised many people when she brought those qualities to the battle to over the Walt Disney Concert Hall. Although she often described herself as a housewife, she stood up to then-mayor Richard Riordan and philanthropist Eli Broad, using her family name and wealth to ensure that the iconic building Frank Gehry envisioned was built.
After she won that fight, I got to visit the construction site and watch steelworkers manipulate fantastically shaped beams on a tour she arranged.
Diane Disney Miller at the Disney Family Museum. (Credit Disney Family Museum)
When Diane decided to establish the Family Museum in the Presidio in San Francisco, I went with her to tour the building for the first time. It had been a hospital barracks during the Spanish-American War, and looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since.
A thick layer of dust covered the broken floorboards and rickety steps. Cement had been poured down the chimneys to stop drafts. But Diane had a vision of what it could become and forged ahead, just as her father had on Steamboat Willie and Snow White. During the years of meetings, email, letters and phone calls that followed, she remained true to her vision of the museum.
She often said she accepted that some people disliked her father and his work, but she wanted the Museum to present him honestly and fairly so people could make an informed decision. So, the Museum includes the bitterly fought animators strike of 1941 and Walt’s testimony before the House Un-American Activities Committee.
Diane lives on in her two great achievements, the Walt Disney Concert Hall and the Disney Family Museum, and in the hearts of her family and friends. I’m sad that I’ll never again come home to a phone message that invariably began with an unmistakable voice announcing, “Charles? Diane Miller!” A message that always meant the start of another shared adventure.
Off-Ramp and FilmWeek animation expert Charles Solomon's next book comes out in April. It's The Art of the Disney Golden Books, available now for pre-order.
U.K. choreographer Matthew Bourne updates 'Sleeping Beauty' in LA with ... vampires?
Matthew Bourne is not only a world famous ballet choreographer; he's probably the only world famous ballet choreographer, probably because the 53-year old Londoner purposely works to make ballet accessible and exciting.
Matthew Bourne in the Ahmanson Theatre green room, Nov. 21, 2013. (John Rabe)
Bourne populated his "Swan Lake" with nearly nude men, lifted the dancing in "Mary Poppins" and brought an edge to "Edward Scissorhands." For his new production, which opens tonight in Los Angeles at the Ahmanson Theater and runs through the end of the month, you might say he wakes up "Sleeping Beauty."
But there were two big problems with Tchaikovsky's work. The music was great, but ...
First, "Sleeping Beauty" is associated with the classical style of ballet — "pointe work and tutus ... very grand" — that isn't Bourne's style at all. In fact, when the story fast-forwards a hundred years to today, "We're right up to date, so you have contemporary movement, you have movement that reflects now ... edgy and in your face."
Second, Bourne says the story is ... well, hold on to your dance belts, balletophiles:
"I always thought the story was a bit insipid, you know, a bit dull. The princess who gets woken up by a kiss by someone she's never met before, then they get married before you know it. There's no story, really. There's no love story, there's no tension."
So Bourne changes it up. Sleeping Beauty's boyfriend has to figure out how to be around in a hundred years when she wakes up. In 2013, that means vampires!
The New York Times didn't really like the changes, saying Tchaikovsky's "work will survive this version."
The Washington Post started skeptical, but was won over by his non-traditional, humanistic take:
Bourne’s “Sleeping Beauty” is a love story, and not just between Aurora and her gamekeeper. The true star is the human capacity for love and its eternal availability.
Bourne bucks tradition in yet another way. When I brought up my pet peeve — the way "traditionalists" scoff at people who applaud between movements of classical pieces, yet bring out the bravos for a hair-raising opera aria or astounding ballet move — he said, "It's crazy. We want people to clap, cheer, laugh, have a riotous time, get emotional; ... that's what this company's about."
"Matthew Bourne's Sleeping Beauty" is at the Ahmanson Theatre until Dec. 1, 2013.
'Mythbusters' Adam Savage Q&A: What myth does he wish was true?
"Mythbusters" — the show that employs science and explosives to debunk longstanding urban legends and other myths — has been on the Discovery Channel for 10 years now. Among the show's subjects:
- Can a snapped steel mast cable slice a sailor in two?
- Will your stomach explode if you drink Coke and eat Mentos?
- Will sticking your finger into a barrel of a gun make it backfire?
Now, co-hosts Jamie Hyneman and Adam Savage are starting a 29-city tour of their stage show called "Mythbusters: Behind the Myths." It's at Segerstrom Hall in Costa Mesa Saturday night.
I've posted the long version of my interview with Adam Savage, in which I ask my own questions, like how the stage show is different from the TV show (lots of audience participation on stage), and how worried they are about science education in the U.S. ("Anybody who's paying attention is worried about science education.") Midway through the interview, by the way, a fire alarm goes off and hilarity ensues.
But I also asked Adam questions that came in this morning via Twitter:
Adam how many costumes do you have?
— Glenna Klabnik (@collegemom48)
About 40 full costumes. "I am currently working on a detailed inventory of my entire costume collection. But it is a long process because there are hundreds if not thousands of costume parts in my collection."
Being a walking dead fan, do you feel the walkers don't really seem like a big threat this season?
— Justin Ackley (@TinyBananaBone)
@KPCCofframp @donttrythis Being a walking dead fan, do you feel the walkers don't really seem like a big threat this season?
— Justin Ackley (@TinyBananaBone) November 19, 2013
"Compared to the Governor, absolutely the walkers are not that much of a threat."
how do you choose the myths you try?
— Zephyra Oziah (@Zephyra81)
"We get some from Twitter, we get some from fans on email, we get some from news stories that we read, and everything that's remotely interesting goes on a list." For what happens next (it's complicated), listen to the interview.
which myth was the most physically painful for you?
— Caliente (@diapowell1010)
When he had capsaicin injected under his skin. "Just on the straight empirical level [it] was incredibly painful although because I knew I wasn't being damaged, there was no fear component to the pain, and that's a significant component."
What is one myth you wish were confirmed instead of busted?
— CarlKerlQuarl (@CWinslowTomasel)
@KPCCofframp @donttrythis What is one myth you wish were confirmed instead of busted?
— TheMightofDemacia (@CWinslowTomasel) November 19, 2013
The one I mentioned above about the snapped steel cable. They tested it on pig corpses, "and all we were doing was denting the pigs."
'Thanksgivukkah': Rabbi Gross says Thanksgiving and Hanukkah aren't that far apart
Off-Ramp commentator Rabbi Marv Gross runs Union Station Homeless Services in Pasadena.
What’s the hottest gift item in the Jewish world today? It’s a Hanukkah menorah in the shape of a turkey! And they’re selling like latkes.
The "Menurkey," from its Kickstarter page, where it doubled its fundraising goal.
We all know that ever since President Abraham Lincoln set the date, Thanksgiving falls on the fourth Thursday of November; Nov. 28 this year, late for Thanksgiving. Hanukkah usually comes in December, but this year it’s early. For once in many lifetimes, Nov. 28 marks Thanksgiving and the start of Hanukkah.
Actually, Hanukkah only comes early in the Gregorian calendar. It always comes on the 25th of the Hebrew month of Kislev. It’s just that the Hebrew calendar is based on the movement of the moon and the sun, while the Gregorian calendar is based on the sun, and the two calendars don’t exactly parallel each other. That’s why Jewish holidays seem to fall at somewhat different times each year. It’s that old devil moon.
So what are we to make of what some are calling "Thanksgivukkah?" Thanksgiving and Hanukkah do have some aspects in common, not just this year’s shared date.
One is the idea of giving thanks for a miracle.
In the case of the Pilgrims, it was a miracle they survived that initial winter in Massachusetts when half their party perished. The first Thanksgiving was a thankful celebration they had made it through a second winter with the help of the local natives who taught them new ways to grow food.
"The First Thanksgiving at Plymouth" (1914) By Jennie A. Brownscombe, Stedelijk Museum De Lakenhal
Hanukkah, which means dedication, celebrates the miracle when a one-day supply of oil lasted an entire eight days in the Eternal Light in the Temple in Jerusalem. This was about 2,200 years ago.
Years earlier, Jerusalem had been conquered by the Seleucids who brutally defiled and desecrated the Temple. When Judah Maccabee and his Jewish warriors eventually revolted against the Seleucids, they re-took, cleansed, and re-dedicated the Temple by re-lighting the Eternal Light.
The Hanukkah miracle was not only the miracle of the oil, but also a miracle of religious freedom. And then, some 19 centuries later, the Pilgrims came to the New World seeking religious freedom, as well.
Food is another common aspect of Thanksgiving and Hanukkah. It’s not Thanksgiving without turkey, cranberry sauce, sweet potatoes and pumpkin pie. It’s not Hanukkah without latkes – potato pancakes – and sufganiyot – jelly donuts. In celebration of Thanksgivukkah, some bakeries are even cooking up turkey-stuffed donuts. I think I’ll pass.
Each year at Thanksgiving, through my work at Union Station Homeless Services in Pasadena, I’ve been able to participate in a unique Thanksgiving dinner. On Thanksgiving Day, thousands of our volunteers gather in Pasadena’s Central Park to serve meals to the homeless and hungry, individuals and families, people of all ages and backgrounds. Volunteers as diverse as our guests serve delicious meals accompanied by smiles and warmth.
Thanksgiving dinner in the park. (Union Station Homeless Services)
Last Thanksgiving, we served some 5,000 meals. Imagine coordinating the preparation and serving of 300 turkeys, 500 pies and 850 pounds of mashed potatoes. The logistics are daunting, but people open their hearts to their neighbors and extend a hand in friendship and hospitality. And for at least one day, we are all brothers and sisters, some giving, some receiving, in tremendously colorful variation, unified in the experience, together as family. And, to me, that’s a miracle.
The Pilgrims would have understood such a miracle. So, too, would have Judah Maccabee. So, Happy Thanksgiving and Happy Hanukkah!
Dylan Brody talks turkey (read this if you hate Thanksgiving)
(Dylan Brody is a writer and performer.)
Thanksgiving is always a difficult time for me because I am, by nature and by habit, an ingrate. For years I avoided Thanksgiving get-togethers and I believed it was because I did not like turkey. It was only well into adulthood that I realized I just didn't like what my grandmother used to do to turkey.
Every year my family would pile into the station wagon and drive to Lakewood New Jersey where my grandmother would turn a Butterball into bird-shaped particle board. I remember hours of chewing and I remember thinking that holiday food was supposed to make one salivate, not absorb all the moisture from one's mouth. A slab of my grandmother's turkey could have been used to dehumidify the Brooklyn-Battery Tunnel.
At the end of the holiday weekend, we'd all get back into the car and as we pulled away my father would say, "Well. That was relatively painless." Halfway home we would stop somewhere for lunch and, after days of politely rejecting Grandma's offers of left-over turkey shard sandwiches, I would have a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of tomato soup. It was my favorite meal of the year.
A few years ago, I went to a holiday gathering I thought it might be good for my career to attend. That's right. I'm that guy. While everyone else is hip-deep in holiday spirit, I'm just hoping to book some gigs for after the New Year. In any case, there was turkey at this party and in an attempt to look like a civilized human, I ate some and found out that I don't hate it. I had seconds.
Just as I was beginning to think I was getting the hang of the whole Thanksgiving deal, my host introduced the highlight of his evening. Everybody present would take a moment to state what he or she was thankful for. I hate audience participation. I don't sing-along. I don't clap on two and four. When I was a kid and we went to a State Theater production of Peter Pan, I wouldn't pretend my applause could help save Tinkerbell's cloying, shimmery, fictitious life. I was perfectly happy to let her darken and die.
Don't get me wrong. I'm not bitter. I just don't believe in artificial sweeteners. There are things in the world I feel thankful for, but they are personal things that I don't feel like telling a roomful of acquaintances just because somebody's turned basic human gratitude into a holiday-specific party game. So after a few people shared their saccharine feelings about health and the love of their families or whatever idiocy they spouted, it got to be my turn; I said, "I'm thankful that at that very first Thanksgiving everybody ignored the one wise, old Native American woman who kept saying, 'don't feed them. If you feed them, they'll never leave.'"
Everybody at the party glared at me. Apparently the gratitude game, when played properly, is utterly humorless. My wife squeezed my hand reassuringly and I knew that none of these people was going to be calling to offer a job over the next couple of months.
Yesterday I got an e-mail invitation to a big Thanksgiving dinner party in the Hollywood hills. I asked my wife if she wanted to go eat turkey with some Network and Studio executives this year. She said she'd rather just stay in, watch a movie and have grilled cheese. I nearly wept with gratitude.