photography by quasistoic.
The Warfield is the Fillmore's sister venue here in San Francisco -- both are classic, historical concert halls that are thankfully still around and are a more attractive option over the enormous arena shows of the suburbs.
At the Warfield, we've got: red velvet curtains, plush-upholstered seating in the balcony, and graceful, curving staircases with lots of lovely gilt accoutrements -- reminders of an era gone by. We've also got a venue that seems plagued by the worst of the corporate industry including being held captive by TicketMaster, which turns two $35 tickets into a $91.50 tab when you've finished the purchasing ordeal online. ]]>
When Danny & I arrived we were greeted by numerous individuals:
- One at the very first entrance tells us we need tickets,
- The second is the willcall person we're directed to once it's determined that we've purchased tickets.
- We then encounter the persons responsible for ensuring that we do not have any of the following: (a) videocameras, (yes, folks, highly valuable lesson #1 about the Warfield is that yes, they do allow cameras expresly for photography); (b) beverages, or, (c) presumably, dangerous weapons. It seemed that videocameras were first and foremost in mind, however.
- After that gauntlet, we met still more staff who scan in the barcodes of our tickets.
- Then, there's the person who checks your ID and gives you a handstamp that signifies you're over 21 and therefore eligible for purchasing libations of the alcoholic persuation.
- Proceeding through the lobby, we're able to purchase such libations (beer) for $5.50/ cup (which one is able to bring into General Admission but not to the Balcony above. I suppose the plush velvet seats need to be protected somehow.
- Finally, we encounter the most nonsensical staffperson of all -- the one standing at the doors of GenAd who gives you another handstamp but doesn't need to see your tickets since "the guys at the front have scanned them in already."
- Towards the middle of the evening, Danny tells me of yet another handstamp he's received for stepping outside for a smoke.
Other observations:
GenAd is definitely the place to be at if you're at a hiphop show. Plush velvet seats, no matter how luxurious, are not necessarily conducive to bobbing to the beat (all that energetically) or plain dancing.
If you don't like the crowded, neck-craning sardine-can closeness of the floor immediately below the stage, standing by the first of the tiers just above the Floor provides, imho, the best vantage point. You're still close enough to the stage to have a fantastic, unobstructed view of the sweat gleaming on the performers' brows, and you can set your drinks (or a nice little tripod-DSLR setup, if you remember to bring it the next time) on that convenient little ledge.
The Roots were excellent as usual, but one of the best parts of the evening came about halfway into the show, when Dave Chappelle nonchalantly emerged from stage right, came up to the keyboards, and tapped out a few plaintive notes... The audience, naturally, went crazy. Post show shenanigans involved a brief crowd-surfing stint with Frank Kncukles -- the percussionist. And Kirk Douglas, the blues guitarist was simply amazing. Looking like a young Miles Davis, his charisma and energy was superb in addition to virtuosic guitar playing. (Ok, I could have done without the tongue-on-the-guitar move, but he was the last solo of the evening and at that point, could probably be forgiven everything.)
Danny took the picture above with his Nokia cameraphone. The gleaming figure in white slightly to the left-of-center is Dave Chappelle. I would have posted this sooner, but I've been having some issues this week with my webhost & Movable Type...]]>
