Out There :: Of Arts Critics and Dedicated Fans

Maybe it's because we're in the midst of San Francisco Ballet season again, but recently we dreamed about the late B.A.R. dance and music critic Stephanie von Buchau. She was dressed not as she did in real life (think Grateful Dead tour T-shirts), but resplendent in fine draperies as if she were a Spanish Reina straight out of Velasquez. We have no idea why our dreaming mind costumed her in this way, unless it was a reference to her famous Grand Tour across Europe as a young woman.

Von Buchau and Out There used to gossip. We'd chortle and hoot over our favorite ballerinos, how beautiful they were in life and limb, like thoroughbred racehorses. She would also share dirty jokes that her father told her, we mean weekly, because she loved to get a rise out of us. The queen of syndicated reviews, she always told us that we were her favorite editor. We thought she was just blowing smoke up the OT posterior. Then she passed, and some of her other editors confirmed she'd characterized us the same way. But of course she had good taste.

Recently the San Francisco Chronicle music critic Joshua Kosman summoned the memory of Stephanie in a Sunday piece as well. "San Francisco operagoers of a certain vintage still recall a famous incident when the imperious [San Francisco Opera] general director Kurt Herbert Adler tried to bar Stephanie von Buchau - an outspoken and terrifyingly knowledgeable critic - from the War Memorial Opera House because she had dared to cast doubt on the conducting abilities of Mstislav Rostropovich. Adler was compelled to back down, but not before he'd been made to look very silly."

One didn't mess with Stephanie. We all need our critics to give perspective, to offer frank consumer advice, to rave when appropriate, but also to give pause. We pray to the goddesses and muses of Arts & Culture you won't find our columnists platitudinous, or our reportage all happy news. Good criticism observes the positives and the negatives, but that's not all.

Flower Power

Our predecessor in this column could be quite colorful about his nemesis, the SFB and SFO patron who made it his business to chuck bouquets at leading ladies during their curtain calls. Original Out There referred to this person as the Flower-Thrower, or sometimes as the Weed-Flinger. A recent thumb-sucker in The New York Times about the phenom got the party started again with our correspondent the Boston Bonnet. "Mr. Bobby , the NYT article perfectly describes the F-T's genealogy. I have to admit that in my youth I tossed cheap bouquets at divas," the BB divulged, "usually Beverly Sills and Shirley Verrett , at the Boston Opera. It is a lost art, alas, which the FT practiced badly."

"Tiptoeing (on Point) Through the Tulips - The Rules and Hazards of Presenting Flowers in Ballet" by NYT reporter Roslyn Sulcas was full of colorful background, such as, "'Back in the day, the fans used to queue overnight for tickets, and there was a very striking woman, dressed in a black velvet cloak, who used to run the queue, collect money for flowers and organize throws from the amphitheater,' Mr. Welford said, referring to the tradition of pelting dancers with loose flowers from the topmost part of the theater.

"So what's it like to get hit by streams of flowers coming at you from four stories up? 'Pretty scary, but kind of lovely,' said Leanne Benjamin, a former Royal Ballet principal who retired (amid showers of blooms) last year. 'But my gratitude was mixed with worry about what would happen to them. Would they go into a vase?'

"In Margot Fonteyn's autobiography, she tells of a moment during a Royal Ballet visit to Russia when she was struck in the chest 'by a remarkably solid and heavy water lily' after performing Ondine. 'It was an appropriate flower,' Fonteyn writes with a certain sang-froid, 'but I wished they would stick to daisies and cornflowers.'

"Fonteyn also recounts: 'A front-row enthusiast found he could lob his little bunches of flowers over the orchestra pit more successfully if they were weighted. I had to keep a very wary eye on his missiles as I was bowing and smiling graciously in front of the curtain.' " It's hard out there for a prima ballerina, especially with rabid fans in the footlights. SvB was one of the biggest aficianados.

Finally, happy Chinese New Year 2015 to all of our dear readers on whatever calendars. A bit of a ram, OT sampled the Year of the Sheep signature menu at Hakkasan in time for the upcoming celebrations. As always, the offerings are delectable and symbolic. A platter of dim sum is meant to bring blessings descending upon your house. Spicy lamb lumin wrap was designed for revelry. Other courses symbolize prosperity (golden fried prawns), honor (sha cha mock duck), health and wealth (abalone and dry shrimp fried rice). These Chinese New Year signature dishes are our kind of fortune cookie! Joke!