In the Mission District, where Z and I live, not going gaga over local mural art is tantamount to high heresy. It's simply not done. And yet, truth be told, we'd grown less than impressed by the neighborhood's dominant aesthetic. This past month that began to change.
The Women's Building at the corner of Lapidge and 18th street is a women-run arts and culture space that among other things offers pay-by-the-minute legal advice, Friday night Shabbat for the San Francsco's hip and happening young Jewish community, lectures on class war and gardening, and many a raucous quinceñera. It also boasts one of the most celebrated murals--the MaestraPeace--in the 415. Z claims it's a four story monument to breast worship. Others see it as a tribute to the working women of the world. Come on by and you make the call.
Throughout September the building's facade was transformed into an aerial dance space, mesmerizing passersby and our neighbors alike. For weeks we watched as the Flyaway dance troupe practiced gracefully while suspended from a network of wires, pullies, and ropes. Night after night we were treated to a poly-rhythmic soundtrack, something that Douglas Coupland might have called love songs written by cash registers for adding machines. The dancers, lean and lemur-like, seemed to float, oblivious to the incessant pull of gravity, twisting in and out of each night's darkness.
Part of the beauty of returning from a year away has been seeing our adopted hometown through new eyes. These warm nights of dance and drums have done just that.
