The show must...aw, you know the rest

Sometimes the best way to achieve immortality on the stage is to fall off the stage. Honestly, who are you going to remember: the fiery performance, or the actor who accidentally set his leading lady on fire?

Nothing makes me laugh like a good theater catastrophe, assuming no one was wounded in the line of duty. When writing my Weekly cover story on the 75-year history of the Palo Alto Players, I heard a few doozies, like the one about a pizza mistakenly being delivered on stage (see the aforementioned cover story).

I particularly loved the quaint ones I found in “1001 First Nights,” a little book the Players published in 1956 for their 25th anniversary. There was the actress who created a putty nose so convincing that she had to go to the hospital to get it removed.

Then there was the 1946 production of “Chicken Every Sunday,” in which the script called for the actors to talk so many times about an offstage bathroom that one leg-crossing lady came up out of the audience and onstage in search of the toilet.

And, a few more:

“There was that (1939) occurrence in ‘Pursuit of Happiness,’ when an elderly actress, in a complete lapse of memory, got out of costume at the end of Act II, and went home. Which left Garrett Starmer doing a soliloquy in the closing scene of Act III.”

Lastly, actor Tony Morse became a real-life hero during a love scene with Florence Brill in 1934’s “Mary Rose.” According to the book: “Ardor and passion glowed with the intensity of the stage set’s real wall candles -- flames from which slowly started to lick the canvas flat. Without a break in the dialogue, Morse quietly walked over and put out the fire with his hands, after which he returned to his fair lady, placed her back on his knee, and continued his love scene.”

Sunday jazz in the air

I recently got a tour of the Community School of Music and Arts, the remarkable school-slash-concert hall-slash-museum on San Antonio Circle in Mountain View. It was the kind of afternoon that makes you want to drop everything and learn how to play the bugle.

The fruits of piano lessons trickled out of practice rooms, children happily swirled glops of paint in art classes, and the classy 200-seat Tateuchi Hall was just waiting for a concert or a lecture. I managed to restrain myself from jumping on stage and belting out "Not A Day Goes By."

(No, not the Lonestar version. Geez. Go to your room, Junior.)

For a brief time, I wasn’t caught up in the mechanics of covering the arts: deciding which story to put on the cover, which call to return first, how to shorten one writer’s story and rewrite my own…

It just felt good to be in a building dedicated to arts of all kinds. Creative energy everywhere. Music in the air.

There should be plenty of good music at CSMA this Sunday, when the Alan Broadbent Trio brings jazz to that very stage at Tateuchi Hall at 3 p.m. Besides touring and recording, Broadbent is the musical director for Diana Krall and won a Grammy in 1997 for his arrangement of “When I Fall in Love” for Natalie Cole.

Pictured: Putter Smith, who plays bass for the Alan Broadbent Trio (I liked his picture better than Broadbent’s).

May-December, or perhaps July

Elaine Robinson need not apply.

Next Tuesday, Fanny & Alexander in Palo Alto is hosting a Younger Man/Older Woman Party. This appears to be a pet cause of organizer Rich Gosse, who announces boldly in a press release: "The truth is that there are millions of American men who find older women attractive, and we will prove it at tonight's party!"

Several questions arise. How will people be carded at the door? How do you know if you're old or young enough?

And how will they fit all those men in F&A?

A lively lineup

I had a nice chat with the folks from Stanford Lively Arts last week, getting the scoop on their 2006-07 season. (OK, so it doesn't start until October, but I like to plan ahead.) Now there's a job: scouting out performers like a klezmer band from Buenos Aires, a German cabaret chanteuse, and a Japanese taiko ensemble. Lively Arts folks must never have a dull weekend.

Dear readers, I could have given you a sneak peek in the print Weekly. But isn't it more fun to click here and hear? Thus, some audio snippets:

Natalie MacMaster (.mp3 file, 30 sec.)
This Celtic fiddler from Cape Breton plays and step-dances at the same time. Groovy. I hear you can expect a bluegrass-pop-world music fusion when she comes to town on Oct. 20.

Klezmer En Buenos Aires (.mp3 file, 30 sec.)
Do they know from klezmer in Argentina? Musicians Cesar Lerner and Marcelo Moguilevsky certainly think so. When they come to Lively Arts on March 7, 2007, they promise to bring a melange of vibrant Eastern European music and Argentinean folk. And maybe even a little tango.

Irvin Mayfield and the New Orleans Jazz Orchestra (.mp3 file, 30 sec.)
Let's face it: we all feel warmer about New Orleans than ever. Y'all can sample it on April 25, 2007, with help from trumpeter Mayfield wailing on the jazz, swing, blues and spirituals.

If I were to list all the other offerings at Lively Arts, I would be here all night. But here are a few other shows I just may have to catch:

Oct. 11 and Feb. 25: Conductor, radio personality, and the nicest man I've ever interviewed: Rob Kapilow returns to demystify classical music with his "What Makes It Great?" programs.

Oct. 28-29: The Diavolo Dance Company apparently does amazing things with massive wooden structures. Leaping, I hear. A lot of leaping.

Dec. 12-13: "A Chanticleer Christmas" returns for its annual show. Like singers everywhere, I can only sit with my mouth hanging open when these boys roll out the a cappella early music.

For complete info, head over to the Lively Arts site or give 'em a jingle at 650-725-ARTS.

Pictured: Natalie MacMaster. Photo by Margaret Malandruccolo.

Just don't put me in Chapter 11

So, get this: if you spend more money than any other customer in Kepler's bookstore between 9 a.m. May 26 and 9:30 p.m. June 1, you get a character named after you in author Barry Eisler's next thriller.

I'm scratching my head. Love Kepler's, support the independent booksellers...but am I the only one who's getting a strange kind of product-placement headache?

Well, I suppose if there's not a scene in which Laura Linney serves up a delicious, steaming mug of Mococoa, we should all be safe.

Following the muse

I often wonder whether it's possible as an artist to be truly original. As a writer, I sometimes find phrases flowing out so smoothly that I question whether I've heard them before and am repeating them without meaning to. We can't help but be influenced by the words, images and harmonies we absorb every day.

It's a disheartening thought for someone who tries to create something new. But maybe this unconscious influence makes our work richer, gives it context.

Young composer Beeri Moalem seems comfortable with this concept. Much of his work grows from his Jewish heritage; his first concerto, "Barchu," has its main theme derived from a prayer chant.

"Other themes," he said in a written statement, "are derived from Sabbath blessings over wine, and a melody which I cannot quite trace. I don't yet know whether it is a chant I've heard or sung at prayer, or a melody from my own imagination. The muses often play such tricks on composers."

Moalem used these melodies simply as raw material: he "presented, developed, recapitulated" them, weaving them into a full 15-minute composition.

I like this idea of a muse: a gentle starting point, not a gilt-edged finished product dropped on you from the clouds.

"Barchu" will be performed tomorrow at 7:30 p.m. at the Spangenberg Theatre at 780 Arastradero Road in Palo Alto as part of a Gunn High School Orchestra concert. Moalem will play as guest viola soloist. He also happens to be an '02 Gunn graduate who also earned a degree in violin and viola performance from the San Francisco Conservatory of Music.

The program also includes Telemann's "Concerto in G Major" (with Moalem on the viola) and the first movement of "St. Paul's Suite" by Holst. Tickets are $5 for adults and $3 for seniors and students; call (650) 354-8264 for more information.

In the name of science

En plein air it's not. In fact, artist Klari Reis' studio sounds more like the labs I grew up in, where my biochemist parents let me play with Erlenmeyer flasks and mold snowmen out of Parafilm.

Hey, did you know there's a film production company in Romania named Parafilm?

But we were talking about Klari. The intrepid artist has to suit up in protective gear to paint with the synthetic (and toxic when wet) plastic she uses to paint molecular structures. Her striking images have such names as "Caffeine," "Xanax," "Ascorbic Acid," "Benazepril."

To maintain the plastic at the right thickness to paint, she keeps her studio at 70 degrees Fahrenheit. This wasn't much fun when she lived in England -- she had lots of space heaters -- but it works well in California.

Klari adds dyes and gels to create the vibrant colors she favors and "make aspects of the image pop out." In England, for whatever reason, she used a lot of red. After moving back to the Bay Area, where she grew up, she found herself using a cheery light yellow-green for the first time.

She has to wait 24 hours for each layer of plastic to dry, which means she usually works on a few paintings at once. Once the plastic is dry, there's just no cleaning her paintbrushes. So she uses disposable brushes and "a lot of plastic spoons."

Here and there, she throws in bright dots with colored glue sticks from a glue gun. That makes it more interesting when you touch the finished product, running your fingers over the smooth surfaces of the plastic and poking the bumpy dots.

And you're allowed -- actually encouraged -- to touch her paintings now hanging in the Chelsea Art Gallery in Palo Alto. Kids, she says, love it. And maybe just a few adults, too. Check it out.

(And take a look at my Weekly story on Klari while you're at it.)

Pictured: Klari Reis in her San Francisco studio. Photograph by Norbert von der Groeben.