Buy Outside the Box: July 2006

Conservatory Symmetry

"San Francisco Arboretum" - James W. Mitchell, Jr.

When Golden Gate Park was deeded to the people of San Francisco in 1870 it was nothing more than a very large pile of sand. Enter into the picture a very stubborn Scotsman by the name of John McLaren and voila! Twenty years later the people had a lush urban park larger than New York’s famed Central Park.

There are a number of wonderful sites within the park itself, but the one that I’ve visited most recently is the huge Victorian glass and wood arboretum known as the Conservatory of Flowers. Through the years it has withstood fires and earthquakes and was recently renovated at the tune of $25 million over four years from 1999 to 2003.

You walk into the conservatory and are instantly transported to another world. It is the Victorian flavor of the structure, juxtaposed with the most exotic of tropical plants that sends the imagination reeling. They say a small child can stand on the massive lily pads there, and when you see them, a moralistic children’s story comes to mind. “Don’t let the lily pads swallow you whole,” you can hear the authority of an adult voice pronounce, as a Madeline-type creature goes skipping across the water.

Go see it soon.—Ruth Mitchell

Frame It

"Thin Blue Strip" - Lucia Babjakova

Selecting the right frame for you art takes practice and some skill. Many pieces of art don't even need to be framed, while others depend on the protection and or the physical delineation frames provide.

At buyoutsidethebox.com we typically encourage our artists to not include the frame in the sale of their art, however there are exceptions to this rule. There are two important reasons for this. One this makes the shipping less expensive and keeps our cost to you down, and two we don't think anyone should be swayed in their decision to buy a piece of art based on the frame that comes with it.

Framing can be quite expensive if you're not careful. Most collectors have a healthy relationship with a favorite framer. Listen to their advice, but always keep in mind your own tastes. There's nothing worse than seeing good art in a bad framing job.--Ruth Mitchell

Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill

I like documentary films okay, but they have to read well just like any good non-fiction book. Don’t waste my time with stories that stumble over themselves no matter how pure and altruistic the message might be. And I have to admit I don’t necessarily seek out documentary films to watch, so all you snobs can stop reading right now. When I sit down and take the time to watch a movie, I want to disappear into the film and lose my own life details for awhile. Call it escapism if you want, but I’m guilty.

That’s why when the “Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill” appeared in my mailbox—I did after all select it and place it in my queue at Netflix—I was a little bit disappointed that our evening entertainment was going to be a documentary.

Within minutes the whole room was mesmerized. We were so taken with the film, that we immediately called our daughter in San Francisco, whom we were to visit shortly, and told her the wild parrots were a “must see” on our next visit. Within the hour of our call she was walking in the Ferry Plaza and actually saw the brilliantly colored flock flying overhead. This is quite a visual feast, as the Cherry-headed Conure, once native of South America, are a brilliant green with a crimson hood.

A few weeks later, one of our first stops in San Francisco was to visit the Embarcadero and look for the flock. Lo and behold, there on a well-worn limb in a thickly vegetated tree was a lone bird. That’s the only bird we saw of the flock. We faithfully crossed the street to fetch some sunflower seeds at the Ferry Building Market. We came back and patiently waited for the bird to feed from our bounty. Nothing happened, he/she didn’t budge, but neither did the bird move the half hour we waited, some of our party dozing off in the plush grass. Mark Bittner, the wild parrot guru, could probably tell me which parrot this was, but even he says on his website, that the flock has grown so large, he no longer knows them all personally. His estimate now is that there are around 200. When he first began counting them in 1993, there were only 26.

Art is in the living experiences we have as well as what we hang on our walls. If you get the chance go see these birds, at the very least rent the movie or read the book!—Ruth Mitchell

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

"Morning Preen" - Andrew Neighbour

When I look at the image, “Morning Preen,” by photographer Andrew Neighbour, I am reminded of the work of the great Imogen Cunningham whose work I have always admired and even emulated back when I was in photography school. Known for her sensual close up images of magnolia blooms and other natural occurrences, Cunningham could transform the most transient slices of life into whole novels of information through her keen eye.--Ruth Mitchell

Artful Presentation— San Francisco's Castro Movie Palace

On a recent visit to San Francisco, my host took me to the Castro Theatre to see a movie called The War Tapes. Wow, what an evening. First the Castro Theatre was an event in itself. Built in 1922 by the Nasser brothers, who brought the first nickelodeon to the Castro neighborhood in 1908, the elaborate movie theatre is one of the few movie palaces from the 1920s still in operation in the United States.

Designed by noted Bay Area architect Timothy L. Pflueger, the Castro was designated by the City of San Francisco as its 100th landmark in 1977. The opulence of the historic theatre begins on the outside with a Mexican influenced monumental façade, a glazed tile street foyer and ornate box office, with a large vertical marquee and neon sign that were added in the ’30s continue the architectural statement. We enjoyed taking the beautifully restored street cars down Market Street and then walking a short distance to the door. (Lesser known than the famed cable cars, the street cars, mostly from Europe and the Eastern Seaboard, these overhead trolleys are much less crowded with tourists than the cable cars.)

Inside the theatre, we continued our journey into the past. After buying too much buttered popcorn we slipped into our comfortable seats. On either side of the stage were organ pipes. I had already been forewarned that the organ music would be part of our treat. He came out with a slight ado, seated himself at the keyboard and as he began to play, the organ lifted dramatically out of the pit up to the level of the stage. I later found out from a relative that my own grandmother, a single mother at the time and a gifted concert pianist, had for a short time earned a living as an organ player at a theatre.

Up above the huge Art Deco chandelier loomed. I later found out that the original parchment fixture had been replaced in 1937 after being burned in a small electrical fire. Two winding staircases, adorned with large mirrors framed in gold twist their way from the lobby up to the mezzanine, which furnished with antiques and rare film posters, is often used for film-related receptions.

All this glamour was overshadowed by the reality of the moment, however. After about 20 minutes of vintage tunes, the organ along with its player, descended and the lights dimmed. Out walked our host, Executive Producer Chuck Lacy of The War Tapes. He shared with us the skinny on this groundbreaking film. In a nutshell SenArt Films, known for cutting edge films, put video cameras into the hands of six soldiers to follow their combat activities in Iraq.
The highlight of the evening was when Zack Bazzi, the most likeable soldier in the film, came out on the stage to answer questions. Our host advised us to please separate our feelings about policy from our questions, which the crowd, surprisingly heterosexual in the heart of San Francisco’s most flagrantly homosexual neighborhood, were for the most part abiding to do.
Not your typical soldier, Zack, born and raised until the age of eleven in Lebanon, was not even a naturalized citizen when he was sent off to fight in Bosnia, Kosovo, and most recently Iraq, by the United States Government.

This is not a film critique. I think I might have to watch it a couple of times before I got all the innuendo, but I do suggest you go see the documentary for yourself. It will be shown in many more metropolitan areas over the next few months, and if you get a chance to see it at the Castro, lucky you!—Ruth Mitchell