On my way into the City this fine sunny yet cold morning, I shot Richard Serra’s “Ballast” — I was reminded of its existential 160-ton weight on the world by a brochure I got earlier in the month at his big gig at SFMOMA.  The Mission Bay Serra has been here about five years but I never actually saw it until today, seeking it.

Richard Serra "Ballast" near the ballpark

Later, in chapter ten or twelve of my adventures today, I briefly met the artist Carol Selter as she was apparently documenting her own science-and-nature themed-show at Gallery 16. I name-dropped Tony May and added the important fact that he and I share the upcoming birthday of January 28. Then I shot the ultra-sneaky snap of her from outside the gallery, on the steps looking back in.

artist scientist Carol Selter at work

(Both of these episodes took place in SOMA more than Potrero Hill, but I am sticking with my somewhat misleading yet ever so trendy headline, a reference to the IFC Carrie Brownstein Fred Armisen vehicle; I have gotten into at least two conversations about it; once, when the dj Mia^1 (mia to the power of one) said that the Rob Syrett opening, in its minimalist charm, was like “Portlandia” and secondly, there at Gallery 16 when Katy Meacham said she was from Portland before SF).

What drew me into the City and Potrero Hill actually Dogpatch was the chance to meet one of my Chicago correspondents, the playwright and musician Terry Abrahamson, who I first was put in touch with because he wrote a tribute to my former client Stella Brooks, “Jazz Funeral for Stella Brooks.” What I didn’t realize until today is that not only did he know JC Brooks (and that in itself is another weird coincidence that I just noticed, the surnames of Stella and JC who Terry calls “Jason”) but that JC Brooks recorded some of the demos of what became the music for “Jazz Funeral….” Meanwhile, Terry was unclear on “Passing Strange” until I set him straight this a.m. — JC Brooks played the narrator during a recent mounting of “Passing Strange” in Chicago. Today over eggs and crab cake (me; he had sausages) we schemed about trying to bring his sixties paranoia piece “Doo Lister’s Blues” to the Bay Area, even as a one-man show or a staged reading.  Abrahamson also gave me a great line or point-of-view when he said he doubts he will outlive his ideas; he’s prolific and generates more projects than he could possible finish or actualize. Here he is holding a book of his blues photos, which make me want to put him in touch with Jay Blakesburg:

Chicago underground legend Terry Abrahamson at Just For You

This has nothing to do with me, my day or Potrero Hill, but Ramon and Jessica remind me, in this moment, of the lesbian book store skit in “Portlandia.” Here is a quote from their actual press release:

Coda: …and if you’re wondering, Dina is Ramon and Jesse is Jessica

(I met Dina McAbee thru Beth Custer a couple years prior and then sort of bumped into her again recently with Jewlia Eisenberg at the pop up Jewish Music Store in the Mission but my best Ramon and Jessica story or association was how a friend of mine thought their song prolonged the life of their dying hound; I spun the same song once on KZSU).

My photo of Mia and Rob is somehow stuck in my stupid cell, but Rob’s picture of me, next to a piece of his that sold to a local super duper architect, and featuring some balloons donated by the super duper nice people at The Balloon Lady — is that Dogpatch or Sunnyside? — came out, so to speak. They actually donated a cool frog balloon but in my best clown moment it lasted less than two minutes at Caffe Centro before I fed it to the ceiling fan.

 
edit to add, Feb. 7, 2012, about three weeks later: catching up again with Terry Abrahamson, and telling him about this post, I felt bad my photo had a flaw that made him look like a Edgar Bergen colleague, so he sent along a better one: