5 May 2022

Culture: not what it used to be

Caught our very first Uber for a ride to Crepevine, where we shared a delicious California crêpe while preparing ourselves for the plunge into, first, popular science at the California Academy of the same, and then, across the oval to the Alice Neel 'People Come First' exhibition at the deYoung.

Let me say first, that wearing an N95 mask for five hours is, all by itself, unbelievably tiring. I cannot begin to imagine what it's like for people, especially medical folks, who have been doing that courageously for two-plus years now, day in and day out. We both love museums and were looking forward to bathing in culture today, but our stamina was reduced by at least 50% by the wearing of masks. I could go on, but will spare you.

Somewhat the same thing to say about the Academy. Mobs of ill-behaved, screaming children – yes, excited to be out of the classroom and seeing what they were seeing, but the cacophony was unbearable. Also featured: teenies taking selfies: much more important than the science. Sorry to be so negative. Here's a nice fish.

We survived the brutal noise; we trust the fish can't hear. I do not remember the old Steinhart being so noisy. The new one is all hard surfaces, concrete and plexiglass, and one screaming little girl sets them all off, and everyone talks louder. BAD design, CAS. Maybe go first thing, or late in the afternoon, when the school kids are gone. Maybe they should have a “senior day” for people who want to enjoy the displays. It is so very well done, and so completely damaged by the unruly mob.

I am happy to report that the albino alligator is still present in his old pool, shown here with his buddy the turtle. What the Academy does superbly well is the small stuff, the little details.

Above right, sand dollars and their delicate anemone friends; at right, some strange vertical fish that Rochelle particularly liked. Then, not so small, a face only a mother might love on a giant Amazonian Catfish.

Here's another echo from the Steinhart's former glory: the Seahorse Parade around the Alligator pool. Elegance lasts.

So, of course, does curiosity, and on that score, the Academy is a miracle. 

One more small thing: the Rainforest exhibit is hot (especially masked) and dramatic; the best part being the tropical butterflies busily flitting about. We are warned not to leave the enclosure, a “USDA aphid enclosure” with a butterfly on board. I think they're smarter, and surely more mobile, than that . . .and yet this one posed very patiently for me.

Saw a lovely planetarium show, about the chemical signatures of life, and how they're being sought on Mars and on exoplanets. Calm, no screaming children, and amazing hemispherical display that at times made my stomach churn as it zoomed from above the stratosphere to inside a rock.

So then across the oval to the deYoung, where we viewed a comprehensive collection of Alice Neel's works. Mostly portraits, and she had an amazing ability (1) to get interesting people to sit for her for hours, and (2) to extract from them and memorialize in paint something very unique about them. Actually, for me, somewhat unsettling and dark, as she had a passion for the weird and downtrodden. Here's the one, not a portrait of a person, but of a part of a city, that attracted me:

Defeated by age and the difficulty of wearing masks, we Ubered home. 

Walked 1.1 miles up hill and down to dinner, enjoying the Outer Richmond houses. Note how the electric wires add appeal and beauty to the neighborhood, so much nicer to look at than photovoltaic panels, dontchathink?

Delicious dinner at Pagan out near the end of Clement street. Our server, a tiny young Burmese, had a lovely sense of humor. When I waied as we were leaving, she had an armful of crockery, and managed somehow to wai back while laughing at the situation.