Native Intelligence

Discovering Francesca Woodman

2012-02-06T01:06:35Z

How is it that until about a week ago I'd never heard of the photographer Francesca Woodman? She has been hovering about in my universe for years, but I'm embarrassed that I completely missed her. It took a look through LACMA's newly opened In Wonderland: Surrealist Adventures of Women Artists to be enlightened. Fate intervened and our paths finally crossed.

Woodman is one of the nearly 50 artists included in this "first exhibition devoted to the female surrealist artists who worked in Mexico and the U.S," as the press materials read. Born in 1958, she is the youngest and one of the lesser known artists in the show that includes superstars of the movement Frida Kahlo, Louise Bourgeois and Louise Nevelson.

Woodman's black and white images, made primarily with a square format camera and printed small, demand that the viewer come in close. Reading the wall label next to the first photograph, "Self Portrait talking to Vince" (top photo here), told me that her life was shockingly brief (1958-1981) and that she photographed in Providence, R.I. My first thought was that perhaps she had been a student at the Rhode Island School of Design, where I graduated. Later in the day a Google search confirmed it. Woodman was a photography student at RISD from 1975 to 1978, around the time I was there, and in the same department, although she was 2 years behind me. It's entirely possible that we may have passed in the hallway or on the street. Other images in the LACMA show were made in Rome where Woodman spent her junior year as part of RISD's European Honors Program.

Like the mystery of her abbreviated life, Woodman's images are haunting and provocative. The level of her work is highly sophisticated for someone so young and still in school. Woodman often photographed herself, sometimes nude, sometimes clothed. She used props, blurring, and dilapidated interiors (not hard to find in Providence.) She experimented with cut paper, reflections and alternative processes. She used her sexuality, her relationships and her environment to develop themes in her work. The disturbing spookiness in some of them hit me hard. Sadly, an ominous feeling about her proved true. I learned that Woodman committed suicide in 1981 at the age of 22, not long after graduation and a move to New York City.

In the 2010 documentary The Woodmans, a revealing and sometimes unsettling look at the photographer's family that I watched after seeing the show at LACMA, her close RISD friend Sloan Rankin acknowledges that Woodman was far more artistically evolved than the other students. But also chronically needy. "She was a fragile person. It caused her to make beautiful pictures," Rankin says. As I watched the film, clues about her emotionally complex life emerged. Maybe also clues into her imagemaking. I felt little sympathy for her parents, both accomplished artists in their own right. They are clearly still wrestling with not only their daughter's suicide, but with the fact that her artistic success has far eclipsed their own. "As Francesca has become more and more famous, we've become the famous artists family," her mother Betty says in one scene.

While Woodman is part of a large group at LACMA, she is currently the star of her own show up north at SFMOMA. Francesca Woodman is the most comprehensive exhibition of her work ever mounted. Her RISD work is well represented, as well as her experiments with the diazotype process (think architects' blueprints) and her fashion photographs. The show fully explores Woodman's body of work, which impressed me as hugely accomplished for someone barely entering adulthood. She had hoped to pursue fashion photography in New York, but struggled with finding opportunities.

Even a drop of the attention her work is now receiving might have been a huge gift to Woodman following her graduation from RISD. She battled to survive professionally in New York, and according to her father was "discouraged and demoralized in her personal life." There was intense therapy, medication and a failed first attempt at suicide. Making photographs became a rarer and rarer occurrence.

Then again, perhaps no amount of validation or success would have been enough to save the life of a young woman so deeply in pain. Her apparently overwhelming inner demons broke her spirit before she could find a way to harness them. Surely trouble was brewing long before she arrived in Providence. However, her images have survived and taken on a brilliant life of their own. Although I'm late to the game, I'm glad that at last I've found them.

Trailer from the documentary on Woodman's life:

"In Wonderland: Surrealist Adventures of Women Artists" runs at LACMA's Resnick Pavilion through May 6.

"Francesca Woodman" runs at SF MOMA though Feb. 20 and will travel to the Guggenheim Museum in New York in spring 2012.

Photographs by Francesca Woodman courtesy of the Marian Goodman Gallery, New York

Feeling regret?

2012-01-31T06:44:58Z

Seventeen years ago, the Rams and Raiders left Los Angeles for St. Louis and Oakland, respectively. Earlier this month, the owners of both teams spoke at press conferences announcing coaching changes and expressed dissatisfaction with their current stadium situations.

First Raiders owner Mark Davis told reporters: "Yeah, Los Angeles is a possibility ... Wherever's a possibility. We need a stadium."

Then, a week later, Rams owner Stan Kroenke refused to commit to St. Louis amidst rumors he's looking at Los Angeles when the team has a clear out-clause in its stadium lease in 2014.

Both Georgia Frontiere and Al Davis have passed away, but given the current state of both franchises, I'd argue the relocation of the Rams and Raiders were two of the dumbest moves in pro sports history.

I'll start with the Rams, since they left first. Their first move out of LA actually came in 1980 when the late Carroll Rosenbloom negotiated a move to Anaheim that his second wife Georgia Frontiere followed through. Anaheim Stadium was always a lousy place to watch a football game. I remember going to a game there as a kid and having to twist my body at about a 60-degree angle to watch the game, while feeling like I was about a mile away from the field.

With the Rams in Orange County, the Raiders moved to LA shortly thereafter and quickly became the city's team. Plagued by years of mismanagement by Frontiere, the Rams became an afterthought in the LA sports scene by the time they left in 1995.

They were supposed to move to a state-of-the-art domed stadium, but the Edward Jones Dome was anything but that. Built by the city of St. Louis to entice a team, it was never constructed for any particular team in mind. As a result, the dome is a dull and imposing structure that lacks charm and many of the modern amenities seen in stadiums that opened just a few years later.

Today the Rams are owned by Stan Kroenke, a man who owns a house in Malibu. They just hired a head coach in Jeff Fisher who's an LA native that went to Taft High School in Woodland Hills and played under John Robinson at USC. The team's COO Kevin Demoff also grew up in Los Angeles. Additionally Kroenke is known to be good friends AEG head Phil Anschutz, and he's reportedly one of the finalists to buy the Dodgers (which could cause issues with NFL cross ownership rules).

The Rams recently announced that they would give up a home game in each of the next three seasons to play in London, angering many people in the St. Louis area. The team's attendance has declined in light of eight consecutive seasons without a winning record. Given all that, many insiders believe the Rams are now the most likely team to move to LA.

The Raiders moved to Los Angeles in 1982 and won a Super Bowl in just their second year here. Despite some initial popularity, the team struggled to draw at the Coliseum. Some have claimed this was because LA could not support pro football. But I'd argue that assertion is wrong.

From the moment Al Davis moved the Raiders here, he was at odds with city officials and he constantly threatened to move the team. In the early-1990s, the area around the Coliseum was considerably worse than it is now, and many fans were simply too afraid to attend games. That fear was perpetuated by Raiders fans who became known for their unsavory behavior. Davis did nothing to clean up their act or make games family-friendly.

Despite being a pain to just about everyone in town, Davis still had a sweetheart deal to move the Raiders to a brand new stadium in Hollywood Park. He had a handshake agreement with R.D. Hubbard and a press conference was even scheduled to announce it. Davis didn't show up to the press conference and he backed out of the stadium, even though he wouldn't have to pay for it.

Davis would say in interviews later that he reneged because the NFL wanted to reserve the right to place a second team in the stadium. The league was paying for most of it, after all. But Davis refused to share the building. Reports at the time also suggest that Davis was upset that the stadium couldn't be finished in time for the 1997 season.

Fast-forward to the 2012 season, and the Raiders are playing in one of the league's worst stadiums in Oakland. They share it with the Oakland A's, meaning they'll be only NFL team that has to play on a baseball field this September. The only serious new stadium proposal in the Bay Area for the Raiders involves them sharing a facility in Santa Clara with the 49ers - a situation neither team really wants. I guess it wouldn't have hurt to wait until the 1998 season.

I'd argue the Raiders move was even dumber than the Rams because the Raiders actually had a good stadium plan on the table. But either way, it's likely that the Rams and Raiders would both have considerably higher franchise values today if they had stayed. The Rams left the second-largest media market for the 18th-largest, and the Raiders left to share the less valuable half of the 5th-largest market.

Both teams left just before many parts of LA began to see economic development and improvement. They also left just before AEG came to town and started to show everyone how to get sports venues built here. This is all very hypothetical, but I'd bet that had either team stayed - and had the Hollywood Park facility not been built - then AEG probably would have partnered with one of them on a new stadium already.

Of course, AEG still can. And heck, how strange would it be if both teams moved back here and shared a stadium downtown.

On a personal note, I'd rather see the Rams move here. I grew up a Rams fan and I'm not sure if LA really wants to deal with the antics of Raiders fans again.

But a Rams move to LA isn't so simple. Despite the LA connections I mentioned earlier, I do believe that Kroenke (a Missouri native) and Demoff are going to do everything possible to keep the Rams in St. Louis. They are simply trying to get the best deal they can on stadium renovations.

Furthermore, I don't think NFL commissioner Roger Goodell wants the Rams to leave. It looks bad if you have a city like St. Louis lose the Cardinals in 1988 because their owner wanted a domed stadium, and then have the city build a domed stadium for the next team, only to see them leave too. Cities may be less likely to help with stadium construction in the future, and fans in St. Louis would be hard pressed to follow the NFL ever again.

If I had to make a prediction, then I'd bet the Rams work out a stadium agreement and stay in St. Louis for the long haul. The Raiders' future is much more difficult to predict because we really don't know much about new owner Mark Davis.

Either way, it's hard to look at the Rams and Raiders now and say that they made the right decision by leaving town. But the next question might be... would they be welcomed back?

Nature comes calling

2012-01-27T19:56:17Z

Los Angelenos are an overpopulated, car-embedded society more inclined to hunt and gather golden currants in the aisles of Whole Foods than collect them in Griffith Park. But here's the thing: In Southern California, where the growing season is 12 months, where the climate ranges from snow to surf in the time it takes to watch a movie, where many animals enjoy not having to hibernate the way we enjoy not having to buy snow tires, you can't help having the occasional encounter with Earth's rougher drafts.

Say hallelujah!

]]> Driving west out of the Coachella Valley last weekend, the sky ahead was dark, portentous, promising rain before Banning. Mount San Jacinto was wrapped in a cloud shroud, and a ferocious wind molested the vehicles traveling along I-10 as if it had a personal grudge against the internal combustion engine. The wind farm spanning the I-10 was in full harvest, the rotor blades spinning frenziedly as if applauding the weather drama.

Photo: Chuckwalla in Joshua Tree National Park

Suddenly, high over the turbines between Mounts San Jacinto and San Gorgonio, a ROYGBIV-colored smile broke against a pissed-off sky, the fattest, longest, most bodacious rainbow I've ever seen. Now I know that whole pot of gold thing is bogus because I saw both ends of the rainbow. Nothing was there except the gold desert earth, and what could be more precious?

"Go Nature!" I said aloud.

Just a couple of days ago, at a dinky 9-hole golf course next to the Santa Monica Airport I was playing in a drizzle. It was swell--no waiting, no pressure, automatic ball-washing... Then, on hole No. 6, the sun came out, and a full rainbow arched over the fairway, the second I'd seen in three days. That never happens. But it did.

Not all such surprises, of course, are welcome. No one welcomes the tree that decimates the Toyota, courtesy of a Santa Ana wind. The divorce between the chimney and the roof, courtesy of a strike-slip earthquake. The abdominal cramps, courtesy of a black widow spider bite. That's life, death and all the stuff in between, and no one escapes these adventures.

Photo: Gopher snake at Joshua Tree

For many people, nature is where you go to repair, recharge and relax. Where you take your chances, fishing in a cold mountain stream, scaling a granite wall, doing the New York Times crossword puzzle in the back garden as a hummingbird pokes its proboscis into the petunias. Unless you have been robbed of your senses, Nature will find a way to move you, even just a little.

I follow mom's orders. I go play outside. Sometimes, my playground is the desert. After a wet winter, Anza-Borrego, Joshua Tree, California City or some Mojave/Sonoran neighborhood that looks like the moon in summer tarts up in spring with color so intense you can feel it. Is there a more erotic palette than a beavertail cactus in full bloom? Anything more delicate than the bruise-blue hue of chia? Anything more in love than tiny lavender filaree embracing its sand?

After a wet winter, butter-colored blankets of desert dandelion greet visitors like a cheerleader's smile. Globe mallow hangs from its bushy infrastructure like orange paper lanterns. Even in dry years, when the spring bloom disappoints seekers of abundance, there's plenty of oily-aromaed creosote, yellow brittlebush, Victrola-shaped datura, a/k/a jimson weed a/k/a locoweed a/k/a don't-eat-me. In dry years, you won't see a lot, but you'll see plenty if you look.

Part of plenty out here is plenty of critters. If you're quiet, if you step lightly, you can meet the desert's denizens. They might startle, even scare, you but what's life without the occasional rush of adrenaline that wonders, "Ya think there's cellphone reception out here?"

One year, at the end of a long, hot spring day in the desert tortoise preserve that proved to be too late in the season to meet any of the eponymous residents, I was walking back to the car along a sandy, washboard road. At what sounded like the world's loudest bee buzzing through the sere air, my companion executed the most physics-defying maneuver I've ever seen, a leap both vertical and lateral. Coiled by the road's edge was a baby Mojave green rattlesnake, objecting to the intrusion. I took a picture. It was blurry.

Go Nature!

Last spring in White Water Canyon near San Gorgonio, I was finishing a spectacular three-hour hike along an elevated, switched-back mountain trail that had offered crystalline skies, fields of poppies, lupine, coreopsis and panoramic views. Alas, my new hiking boots had fostered a blister the size of a Buick, and I was hurting, grateful to see trail's end about 50 yards farther on. Picking up the pace, I careened around a brittlebush only to come to a heart-stopping halt at the sight of a cinnamon-colored creature who'd gotten there first. The red diamondback rattler, about three-and-half feet long, was stretched out along the high side of the trail, soaking up the sun. She looked at me as if to say, "What?" She didn't coil, didn't move. She was in charge and she knew it.

I could have detoured around the trail's low side, but that meant traversing through high grass and stepping where I couldn't see. Always a bad idea where grumpy, poisonous critters live. I could have stared at Cinnamon for hours, a gorgeous, muscular serpent with the utterly unconcerned demeanor. But my foot throbbed and I was tired. I shifted my weight, cleared my throat. She wiggled almost imperceptibly, her black pinpoint eyes lasering into mine. For 10 or 12 minutes we communed, one of us silently. Finally, she slid under a scraggly bush and up the hill, and I moved on with mixed feelings about having lost my powers of intimidation.

Golf is a stupid game, but it can be a smart way to go out and play with Nature. When the drive slices into the cattails, when the putts decline to cooperate, contemplate the clover. It doesn't matter if you're wrestling with a municipal course hard by the freeway or out on the links lining the ocean. Something cool is living there. Pay attention.

Westchester golf course is so close to LAX you can smell the jet fuel. If you can't play golf, you can play "name that airliner" as it lands on the north runway. If you're playing at dusk and you're lucky, like I was, you can spot the fox that lives near hole No. 14. Westchester has night lights, and although it's dopey for serious golfers, I've played there using glow balls, ridiculously luminated spheres that are to golf as Silly String is to tennis. One night, my companion whacked a drive down the middle on No. 9 and as we walked toward his glowing ball, so did a possessive ground squirrel fixated by the light. He did not respond to foot-stomping or club-waving threats. He refused to leave and we stood there too long, simultaneously amused and annoyed.

Other animal encounters that were worth the lost concentration, the whiffed shot, the lost ball:

the egret on a Ventura County links course that from a distance appeared to be yanking moss from the marsh but, on closer inspection, was extracting a mouse by its tail. It closed the deal and flew away with the rodent fast in its beak.
the soccer-ball sized boulder slowly rolling across the fairway on the same course that turned out to be a turtle heading from the adjacent field to the lagoon, and takings its damn sweet time doing it;
the coyote crossing the green near Moorpark, and the roadrunner on the next hole, racing along the fairway. Where was the Acme truck?
the bobcat patrolling the periphery of a Riverside County course;
the fashion-forward lemon-and-chocolate-colored California kingsnake slithering slowly across a Riverside County cart path, moving as if on the runway, as if to be adored;
crawdads in a greenside creek in Orange County, a crustacean I haven't seen in a venue like that since I was 8;
a family of top-knotted quail scuttling through the underbrush on a rugged course in north San Diego County;
a hawk picking at the remains of a duck next to a course lake in Camarillo.

These are not friends you make playing "Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3."

Angelenos are an inside-out community. Dining at Topanga's Inn of the Seventh Ray one night, I saw coyotes in the gulch below the patio waiting for scraps. At the Hollywood Hills home of the Australian consulate, we sat in a dining room separated from the pool by sliding-glass doors. Midway through the meal, a raccoon family nosed against the glass, and you just know it wasn't the first time. Once, in the middle of the night, I was awakened by a disturbance in the back yard. At four in the morning I was obliged to extract an opossum from the large plastic jug of dog kibble in which it had gotten its head stuck--it was staggering around the yard, banging its jughead against the barbecue and the laundry room door.

Photo: Rock climbers at Joshua Tree

By the time I'd reached the 405 last weekend after my dramatic weather adventure in the desert, the rain had stopped and the freeway was full. A metallic pink Hummer was in the lane to my right, its female driver wearing a pink parka trimmed in fake pink fur.

I was home, in Suburbania, where weeds needed pulling, tulips were breeching the garden soil and it wouldn't be long before lizards would be skittering across the back patio.

Go Nature!

Photos: Ellen Alperstein. Click to see larger.

Night visions

2012-01-26T07:25:01Z

In the projection room tonight at the Million Dollar Theater, for Stanley Kubrick's "Paths of Glory," with projectionist Tom Ruff.

The UCLA Film & Television Archive will be presenting classic films at the historic Broadway movie palace each Wednesday night through March 28. Upcoming showings include "Bus Stop," "Shampoo," "Bridge on the River Kwai," and "Taxi Driver," among others.

Latest in the Night Vision photo series by Iris Schneider

Photo: Iris Schneider

L.A.'s Hall of Fame basketball coach who faded from memory

2012-01-18T05:57:36Z

The Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame has inducted 81 men and women in its coaches category. Many of them have local connections ranging from the very famous, such as John Wooden and Phil Jackson, to the ones only slightly associated with the area, like Lute Olson (who briefly coached at Cal State Long Beach), to some whom most would struggle to remember, such as Sam Barry (USC's coach in the 1930s and 1940s).

One coach enshrined, would, if you look at his resume, should be fairly famous. This man coached two different teams to NBA Championships, a feat that only Phil Jackson and Pat Riley have accomplished. He even added an ABA championship. He was an L.A. City high school player of the year at Hamilton High, and then a star at USC. He went on to play in the NBA for eight seasons. He later would coach in the NBA and ABA for 16 seasons. A street in Culver City is named for his father. And it is likely that only a basketball junkie would remember the name of Alex Hannum.

]]> Hannum coached the St. Louis Hawks to an NBA championship in 1958 at the age of 33. He later would coach the Philadelphia 76ers to a 68-13 record and a championship in 1967. And, in 1969, he coached the Oakland Oaks to an ABA championship. And after coaching the Denver Rockets (now the Nuggets) of the ABA in the 1973-74 season, Hannum left pro basketball forever at the age of 50 to become a building contractor in Santa Maria. He passed away 10 years ago on this day (January 18) in San Diego.

When Hannum passed away, it was noted almost entirely in passing. The first notice of his death was a posting on the Philadelphia 76ers website. The New York Times and Los Angeles Times reported the death from that source. And there were no more details. Obituary writers scrambled to come up with stories from former players to provide background, but there wasn't much.

How did someone who grew up in Los Angeles and lived in Torrance and Palos Verdes during his coaching career just fade out of everyone's memory? There are a few reasons. They serve to show just how the NBA has changed so much from the time that Hannum first joined the league until today.

Alex Hannum's NBA playing career was not stellar. He was a 6'7" bruiser, who kept a job in the NBA because of his willingness to dish out and take punishment in the very rough game that basketball was in the 1950s.* He played for teams in Syracuse, Baltimore, Milwaukee, St. Louis, Rochester, and Fort Wayne.

*Some of this was due to rules for a few years that awarded just one free throw for any off the ball foul. It was easier to just trade one free throw for a chance to get the ball back and score two points on a field goal.

Hannum got his first chance to coach at the age of 32 when he took over the St. Louis Hawks as player-coach in the 1956-57 season. The Hawks lost in the Finals to Boston (led by rookie center Bill Russell). Hannum's Hawks would beat the Celtics in the Finals the next year. The Celtics would win the next eight championships in a row until Hannum's 76ers beat them in the Eastern Finals in 1967. Hannum narrated a short video recap of that team.

The NBA of Hannum's era was not particularly prestigious or glamorous. For most of the time, the NBA had just 10 teams in it. And even with teams called Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, games were often moved to neutral sites, like Hershey, Pennsylvania, where Wilt Chamberlain had his 100-point game.

Hannum rarely stayed in one job very long. After winning the championship in St. Louis, he had a contract dispute with the Hawks owner and moved back to Torrance and started a construction business. Hannum knew that NBA coaching was not particularly lucrative and felt he needed a second income.

Once Hannum got back into coaching, he bounced around. Three years with Syracuse, three with San Francisco (including a Finals appearance), two with Philadelphia (including a championship), one with Oakland of the ABA (and a championship), two with the San Diego (now Houston) Rockets (where he frequently clashed with Elvin Hayes whom Hannum felt was a quitter and unwilling to practice hard) and, finally, three seasons with the Denver Rockets (now the Nuggets).

After the 1974 season ended, Hannum knew his coaching days were over. He moved to Santa Maria and threw himself into a contracting business. He would rarely turn up in the local press. He would write letters to the L.A. Times sports section on his construction company's letterhead about basketball, but never would identify himself as a former coach.

In 1979, the Times sent reporter Alan Greenberg up to Santa Maria to interview Hannum, who lived in a house that had no TV or telephone. Hannum claimed to have only seen one NBA game in person since he had left coaching, yet he seemed to know current players very well.

Hannum came off in the interview as a quintessentially grouchy old man. He disliked the stars of the 1970s. He still hated Elvin Hayes. He could not believe Bill Walton took time from his team to be with his wife when she gave birth. He did not believe the NBA should draft players who had left college early, let alone not even played college ball.

He saw his principal rival during his coaching days, Red Auerbach of the Celtics, still enjoying success in the Celtics front office as Boston kept winning championships in the 1970s and 1980s. His USC teammate, Bill Sharman, led the Lakers to an NBA title in 1971-72.

The Basketball Hall of Fame always seemed to pass him by when it came to choose new members. In 1998, Hannum finally was chosen for induction in Springfield, the same year that Larry Bird was elected. Four years later, Hannum passed away in San Diego.

And with Hannum's passing, his low profile became almost nonexistent. The USC basketball media guide makes very mentions of one of its most prominent alums. The last local story I could find about Hannum was written by Karen Crouse of the Daily News back in 1998 after Hannum was chosen for the Hall of Fame. He seemed to have mellowed some, but still disliked Elvin Hayes. (Hayes beat Hannum to Springfield by eight years.)

Despite his accomplishments, Hannum will always remain something of an enigma to basketball fans all over the country. He was always an out-of-towner wherever he coached, as Southern California was his home. But he never coached a Southern California team. Los Angeles basketball was the domain of the likes of John Wooden and the Lakers' parade of stars.

Alex Hannum played and coached the NBA in an era that is long gone. To his credit, Hannum recognized that his time had passed. He was able to move on to something new in his life. If Hannum isn't as well-remembered now as other coaches and players of his era, I somehow don't think he would be all that surprised.

Photo: Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame

New Dodgers owner needs to rebuild the farm

2012-01-15T00:43:54Z

The January 23rd deadline to bid for the Dodgers is fast approaching and there's far more bidders than I think anyone expected. Mark Lacter notes the high number here. I agree with Lacter's explanations as to why there are so many (i.e. Bud Selig's lack of control over the process and the expected high TV rights.) I would also add that any Dodgers owner will have 1/30th stake in MLB Advanced Media, a company that some have valued as high as $5 billion. And anyone who buys the Dodgers and follows Frank McCourt will be viewed as a hero in Los Angeles, so ego may play into this too.

The prospective bidders for the Dodgers range from people I like (Magic Johnson, Peter O'Malley, Rick Caruso) to people I don't know much about (Tom Barrack, Steve Cohen, Jason Reese.) There are people who have close ties to Selig (Dennis Gilbert, Joe Torre, Stan Kasten), and potential groups that have enormous financial resources (Time Warner, Fox, the Chinese government.)

I would be fine with pretty much anyone not named McCourt owning the Dodgers, with a few exceptions. I'd rather not see Steve Garvey buy the team, because the last thing the Dodgers need is an owner with more financial problems than Frank McCourt. And after Fox's ill-fated ownership, I'd rather not see Fox or Time Warner own a percentage of the team. The Dodgers don't deserve to be a chess piece again in a local TV cable sports channel war. And they shouldn't be put in a situation where their TV rights would be sold for a discount.

The best owner for the Dodgers would have ties to Los Angeles, or at least appoint a team president from the area. The best owner would also be well-capitalized, not just to sustain a high payroll (which I've said many times is overrated), but also to finance much-needed improvements to Dodger Stadium. Regardless, whoever buys the Dodgers is going to need to rebuild the farm.

When Ned Colletti became GM of the Dodgers before the 2006 season, the organization had one of the best farm systems in the game. Since then, the farm system has floundered. With a severe lack of low-cost in-house prospects who are capable of playing well at the Major League level, Colletti has been forced to turn to the free agent market to fill out his roster. The results haven't always been pretty.

Over the years, Colletti has shown a penchant for signing aging middle infielders to large contracts. Jeff Kent got $22 million at age 38. Casey Blake received a three-year contract at age 35. Rafael Furcal got $30 million guaranteed when he had already proven to be injury prone. Other old middle infielders to receive millions from Colletti include Jamey Carroll, Nomar Garciaparra, Juan Uribe (whose performance was never good), and Mark Ellis just signed a two-year deal worth almost $10 million at age 35. Adam Kennedy and Jerry Hairston, Jr. also signed this offseason, both 35 or older.

Colletti's strong preference for veterans has also been seen in areas where the Dodgers do have good young players. After shrewdly trading for Andre Ethier (Colletti's best move) and watching Matt Kemp show flashes of stardom, Colletti did everything possible to keep one or both off the field. Before the 2007 season, he signed Luis Gonzalez, who instead of being a "veteran leader" complained about losing playing time to Kemp and Ethier. Colletti also signed Juan Pierre to an ill-fated five-year deal, and then the following off-season he added Andruw Jones in a move that turned disastrous. Historically, baseball players peak in performance between the ages of 27 and 32 (the "steroid era" notwithstanding), so giving millions to aging veterans is an extremely risky proposition.

Since DeJon Watson was put in charge of player development in 2007, the Dodgers have stopped developing players. Not a single position player drafted in the Colletti era has become a regular Major League player. That could change this year as both Dee Gordon and A.J. Ellis project as Opening Day starters. I have some hopes for Gordon, even though he probably only got a chance because of the team's severe payroll constraints. Colletti is doing everything possible to keep Ellis off the field by signing veteran mediocrities Matt Treanor and Josh Bard, and trading for underwhelming prospect Tim Federowicz. What's most troubling though is that there are no other position player prospects in the team's high levels of the minors that project as Major League starters.

To their credit, the Dodgers have seen a little more success with pitching prospects with Clayton Kershaw (who I'd argue was a can't-miss kid when he was drafted), reliever Kenley Jansen (a failed catching prospect turned miracle reliever overnight), and closer Javy Guerra. But the overall failings of the minor league system in the last five years have been costly for the Dodgers. Not only have they attempted to mask their deficiencies by making questionable signings, but they've also lacked the prospects to package in a trade for a top player. The team didn't trade for Cliff Lee or Roy Halladay because they didn't have a more highly-valued prospect than, say, Justin Smoak.

Whoever buys the Dodgers will need to ensure that the player development system is one of the strongest in baseball. Prospects need consistent and quality instruction across all levels of the minor leagues. Having great facilities in places like Chattanooga, Tennessee and Midland, Michigan is important. So is having a strong support system for players who often aren't old enough to drink alcohol.

The Dodgers have lagged behind other organizations internationally, selling half their Dominican complex and not opening up academies in Venezuela and other nations that could produce talent. Other than Hiroki Kuroda, McCourt never signed a significant overseas player.

Some have claimed the Dodgers lack of success with prospects is due to McCourt's refusal to pay over-slot money for draft picks (Zach Lee being one of the rare exceptions.) But the new MLB collective bargaining agreement severely limits spending on draft picks, so the new Dodgers owner will need to make sure that a good scouting team is in place.

Most Dodger fans are hoping that a new owner will be able to sign big name free agents to bring the team back into contention. But historically, the most successful baseball teams are those that build from within and then use their resources to keep their core in tact. The Dodgers current baseball operations department has not proven itself when it comes to drafting and developing talent. A new owner would be advised to bring in a front office that can.

Wim Wenders on 'Pina' the film and the friend

2012-01-13T05:40:28Z

Wim Wenders photos by Iris Schneider

When avant-garde choreographer Pina Bausch died suddenly in 2009, filmmaker Wim Wenders not only mourned his close friend. He felt he could no longer make the film they would have begun shooting two days later. His hope of finally bringing her emotional and ground-breaking work to a larger audience ended abruptly after almost twenty years of collaboration.

"My interest was to see and film Pina's eyes at work. We cancelled the film and pulled the plug," he said. "Only when the dancers made me understand a month or two months later that we could make a different film, not of Pina but for Pina, did I think I could do it."

What Wenders and the Pina Bausch company have created with their documentary, "Pina," which opens in Los Angeles January 13, is an elegy, a meditation, an emotional roller coaster ride through life and all its emotions depicted almost soundlessly through movement.

Recently, Wenders sat down for interviews to talk about the experience of making his latest film. Dressed in a natty but rumpled three-piece suit, and in a blue mood with royal blue glasses framing his eyes, a blue shirt and a blue wristwatch on his arm, Wenders talked passionately about the challenges of making this film. He had pondered for years just how to capture and communicate the power, emotion and simplicity that characterized Bausch's work.

Finally, in 2008, he started playing with 3D technology. "I was convinced that 3D was the perfect language for dance, the answer to 20 years of hesitation, and stalling and ruining my brain wondering how to make an appropriate film of Pina's work. Dance and 3D could bring out the best in each other...But this was before 'Avatar,' and 3D was really in its infancy."

There were many physical challenges working with unwieldy cameras unable to capture the fluidity and elegance of Bausch's movements. "My assistant became a four-armed Indian goddess" trying to move and shoot in 3-D with the bulky cameras available at the time. Wenders also sensed a huge opportunity and he dove in, modifying the cameras and adapting them as he went along. In the end, Wenders was able to stand back and allow the dancers to pay their very personal tribute to Bausch, in the visual language that Bausch taught them to use. "In the best possible sense of the word," he said, "technology was at the service of these emotions."

"I cried my heart out the first time I saw a piece by Pina, not really knowing what hit me," Wenders explained. "Her dance is so physical, it involved the bodies of her dancers so much...Pina's work was not just an aesthetic experience, it is an existential experience. It is about life. She said it best herself. 'I am not interested in how my dancers move, I'm interested in what moves them.'"

The film was shot in and around Wupperthal, Germany, where the company is based. "Wupperthal has an incredibly rich history, industrial landscapes, a richness of possibilities. It was great to be outdoors in the sunlight, have the horizon, the hanging train, the city and industrial landscape," Wenders said. Indeed, seeing the dancers move along mountaintops, on streetcorners, with railways speeding above them or onstage in the pouring rain is shocking, and exhilarating, and gives the film a very unique visual framework. Wenders, who has been a photographer since his teens, used his sharp eye to great advantage.

Moving on without Pina by his side was difficult. "I had to face the question every day: What would Pina think? She was looking over my shoulder with each and every shot. Does Pina like it? Is this good enough? She was very present, for the dancers and myself. Her spirit is there and amazing...Only when I edited the film and first showed it to the dancers and they felt that Pina's universe was well-preserved in the film did I feel that Pina would approve."

Working with Pina's troupe was also a very different directing experience for Wenders, whose films include "Wings of Desire," "The State of Things," "Paris, Texas," and "The Buena Vista Social Club."

"She had assembled a strange utopian humanity around her," he said. "So different than the typical directing experience, where you work with actors for a few months. Pina's relationship with her dancers went on for decades...

"I don't know how I will continue working with actors after this experience. Over the course of one year I did not have one complaint, not one single scene of jealousy. None of that stuff you are used to on every movie crew. I was privileged to work with them."

And ultimately, Wenders was satisfied by the technological accomplishment of "Pina."
"The challenge was big, working with such a new language. We tried to imitate what two eyes are doing, and what the brain does with what two eyes do. To really be in awe of what our two eyes do every day," he said.

He must have done something right. After a brief opening to qualify for Oscar consideration, "Pina" is currently on the shortlist for an Oscar nomination in the documentary category.

Angeleno Datebook- January 12, 2012

2012-01-12T23:03:51Z

Thursday, January 12, 2012

Screening of "Strange Notes and Nervous Breakdowns: Punk and Media Art, 1974-1981" at MOCA Grand Avenue. Reservations required. 7 PM
Santa Monica Museum of Art hosts Exhibition Opening Receptions for "Adam Berg: Endangered Spaces" and "Georgi Tushev: Strange Attractor" shows at Santa Monica Museum of Art in Santa Monica.
The Broadcast Film Critics Association's Critics' Choice Awards at the Palladium.
Slake after Dark presents a reading by Aimee Bender at Atwater Crossing. 3245 Casitas Ave, Atwater Village, 90039. 7 PM

Friday, January 13, 2012

Seth Rogen hosts Hilarity for Charity fundraiser for Alzheimer's Association at Vibiana, Downtown LA. 8 PM. SOLD OUT
Known Gallery hosts opening reception for Sage Vaughn's "Last Year" show at Known Gallery in Fairfax District. 8 PM
Paramount Pictures pre-Golden Globe party on the lot
Rosa Loy Art Opening Private Dinner at the Michael Kohn Gallery.
Vanity Fair hosts celebration for DreamWorks' Golden Globe nominees at Cecconi's.
W Magazine hosts its pre-Golden Globes bash at Chateau Marmont.
American Film Institute's AFI Awards luncheon at the Four Seasons.

]]> Saturday, January 14, 2012

Culinary Historians of Southern California present Charles Perry's lecture on A Thousand and One Fritters: Food in the Arabian Nights at 10:30 AM in the Mark Taper Auditorium of the Central Library.
BAFTA Tea at the Four Seasons Hotel.
Green Carpet Challenge Brunch at the SoHo House
Film Independent Spirit Award Nominees Brunch at BOA Steakhouse.
Rad Dad: Dispatches from the Frontiers of Fatherhood readings by Tomas Moniz, Jeremy Adam Smith, Jillian Lauren, and Shawn Taylor at Book Soup at 5 PM

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Young Musicians Foundation throws its 57th Annual Gala at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, The Music Center, starting at 5:00 PM.
Ricky Gervais hosts the Golden Globes Awards at Beverly Hilton.
CAA hosts Globes after-party at Sunset Tower.

Monday, January 16, 20121

United Negro College Fund hosts its 23rd Annual Martin Luther King Day Breakfast at the Proud Bird in LA.
Kevin Powell speaks at "From Rosa Parks to Barack Obama: Civil Rights in America" MLK Day event inside the Harvey Morse Auditorium/Plaza Level at 8700 Beverly Blvd.,, South Tower.12NOON. Free.

Tuesday, January 17, 2012

Dave Barry and Alan Zweibel present and sign Lunatics at the Skirball Cultural Center, 2701 North Sepulveda Boulevard Los Angeles, CA 90049
The Butterfly Gala benefit for Children's Hospital Los Angeles at SLS Hotel. 8 PM.

Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Art of Elysium fundraiser party at the 17th Annual LA Art Show Opening Night Premiere (Show continues through January 22) in Los Angeles Convention Center. 5:45 PM.
Ayad Akhtar and Amy Waldman: Two Novelists on The Lives of American Muslims Before and After 9/11 in conversation with Louise Steinman, curator, ALOUD. Central Library at 7 PM

Upcoming:

Pacific Standard Time Performance and Public Art Festival January 19 through 29, 2012
Thursday, January 19th at The Geffen Contemporary at MOCA: Art Talk with Judith Baca at 6 PM. Reservations required.
On Friday, January 20th, Wally's Wines and the Union des Grand Crus de Bordeaux (UGC) host the largest Bordeaux tasting in L.A. at the Petersen Automotive Museum from 7-10. A special UGC reception to benefit the Horatio Alger Association Scholarship Fund will start at 6PM.

Send event listings to Adrienne Crew at adrienne@laobserved.com or post your event on her LA Intelligence calendar.

Metropolis II at LACMA

2012-01-12T17:27:46Z

Chris Burden's Metropolis II installation opens to the public on Saturday. It was previewed for the media yesterday. Read more

Photos: Judy Graeme

Photo: Occupy at the Rose Parade

2012-01-03T06:44:15Z

Occupy LA protesters demonstrate at the end of the Rose Parade on its route through Pasadena. Photo by Iris Schneider.

Night Vision: Before the Rose Parade

2012-01-02T10:37:41Z

The City of Los Angeles float turns onto Fair Oaks Avenue moving into position for Monday's Rose Parade. Latest in the Night Vision series by Iris Schneider.

Tim Tebow is out of the will

2011-12-16T22:31:37Z

Watching sports on TV is supposed to be entertaining. It is not supposed to give you a heart attack.

Which is why I have to find a new rooting interest. The Denver Broncos are going to kill me.

Five weeks into the NFL season, the Broncos were 1-4. They were a bad team, and we native Denverites who live in Los Angeles were happy that their incompetence could be seen on TV only by local residents, which, in NFLand, includes Bismarck, North Dakotans, who got to watch the Broncos lose to the Titans on Sept. 25 while Angelenos saw Kansas City at San Diego. On Oct. 2, the suburban Denverites of Tulsa, Oklahoma, got to watch the Broncos go down to the Green Bay Packers while we saw New England at Oakland.

They were a bad team, so they scapegoated quarterback Kyle Orton to the bench, tossed a hail-Mary Tim Tebow into the huddle and began the campaign to test the limits of my health insurance coverage.

Yes, I'm taking it personally.

]]> The Broncos are still terrible. But now, they're also dangerous because they're winning by coming from behind, always in the final minutes of the game, often in overtime. Once in a while, this is fun, like sports are supposed to be. But doing this every week is life-threatening. If Tim Tebow is the God-fearing perfect child everyone claims, why is he unfamiliar with the Sixth Commandment? Why is he trying to kill me by completing only one pass per half until the two-minute warning? Doesn't he know that the 15 minutes of fame you get covers your whole lifetime, not the last quarter of every football game you play?

Thanks to their 8-5 record, the Broncos are all over national TV not because America loves a winner but because America loves a drama king and the NFL loves the beer company revenue that enables him. If you are a Denver Broncos fan and if the Broncos are on TV in your area, you have to watch. It's the law. After the season--or maybe after this weekend--possibly my survivors can sue the deep-pocket league as complicit in my demise.

It's a slow death. On Nov. 17, the Broncos bested the New York Jets 17-13 with a 20-yard touchdown run by Tebow with 28 seconds left in the game. The next game, against San Diego on Nov. 27, ended in a 16-13 Bronco victory with 29 seconds left in overtime. On Dec. 4, the Broncos came from behind with two scores in the final 93 seconds to beat Minnesota 35-32 as time expired. And last Sunday, Dec. 11, was another overtime 13-10 win over Chicago that required a 59-yard field goal to tie with three seconds left in regulation. I now realize that the "sudden-death" aspect of overtime describes not the teams on the field but the fans in the living room. The L.A. Times called this game Tebow's "weekly miracle." I call it my weekly cardiac adventure.

After that game, NBC reportedly tried to blitz CBS, which has the rights to broadcast this week's Denver-New England game Sunday afternoon. NBC wanted to air it Sunday evening, a far more appropriate time slot for a long-running dramatic serial. The NFL declined to accommodate the peacock (which, rumor has it, might have something to do with CBS' ownership of a restaurant at the Patriots headquarters), but the threat to my health is unaffected: Except for New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio and Arizona, at this writing the afternoon game will air everywhere else in the lower 48 as well as Alaska and Hawaii.

Did I mention that the Broncos are a bad team? Did you notice that in only one of their last five victories they scored higher than the mid-teens? Watching them play football for 3 1/2 quarters is like watching somebody else's grade-schooler play soccer. People run around a lot. Nothing happens. Then, as time ticks toward "Did-the-Colts-lose-and-are-we-still-in-the-hunt-for-Andrew-Luck," suddenly, Tim Tebow answers a lower authority, the Broncos threaten to score, and I am yelling at the TV so loud the neighbors are calling the cops.

They should be calling the paramedics. This team is killing me.

Is Jim Mora, Jr. the right coach for UCLA?

2011-12-11T01:04:38Z

With the hire of Jim Mora, Jr. as head coach, hopeful UCLA fans are comparing the hire to Pete Carroll.

Like Carroll, Mora was UCLA's fifth or sixth choice. Both Mora and Carroll coached NFL teams for three seasons (Falcons, Patriots) and saw them regress each year. Both Mora and Carroll were fired after coaching a different team for one season (Seahawks, Jets). Both coaches were fairly desperate for a job when hired and were roughly the same age. And both coaches made their marks as defensive coordinators who were particularly innovative with secondary schemes. But that doesn't mean UCLA just hired the next Pete Carroll.

The track record for former NFL head coaches in the college ranks is less than stellar. Pete Carroll is the exception to the rule. Dave Wannstedt never took Pitt to the next level. The same could be said for Chan Gailey at Georgia Tech. Mike Sherman was just fired at Texas A&M. Bill Callahan set the Nebraska program back for years.

There are some coaches who have gone back and forth (Nick Saban, Dennis Erickson, Mike Riley), but other than Carroll and June Jones, I can't think of another ex-NFL head coach with mostly pro experience who was a success at the college level.

Jim Mora, Jr. was hired because he was the biggest name UCLA could get. But sometimes the biggest name isn't always the best name. I thought the Bruins should have considered San Francisco 49ers offensive coordinator, a rising young coach who was part of Jim Habraugh's successful staff at Stanford. I would have also considered Alabama defensive coordinator Kirby Smart, Oklahoma defensive coordinator Brent Venables, and Colorado offensive coordinator Eric Bieniemy. I think UCLA should have looked towards a dynamic assistant coach on the rise rather than a washed up name that alumni had heard of before.

This is not to say that Mora can't do a good job. He is well-respected in coaching circles, and I'd be surprised if he has a worse record than Rick Neuheisel. But recent history suggests that Mora will be more like Chan Gailey or Mike Sherman than like Pete Carroll.

What the Albert Pujols signing means for the Angels

2011-12-08T21:06:02Z

The Angels made a huge splash today by signing Albert Pujols to a 10-year $250 million contract. What does this all mean?

First off, it means the Angels are instantly the favorites to win the AL West, and probably the American League. With CJ Wilson also going from Texas to Anaheim, I believe the Rangers are going to take a step back this year. They are also probably still suffering emotionally from losing the World Series in the excruciatingly painful fashion. I personally like the Angels roster better than the Red Sox or Yankees right now.

It means the Angels have a legitimate superstar, something they haven't had since Reggie Jackson. Pujols is a player whose brand could be more powerful than any other LA athlete with the exception of Kobe Bryant. He is the best player in baseball, and probably has been for the past ten years. He might be the best player to play for the Dodgers or Angels since Sandy Koufax. It would help if he showed more personality though.

It means the Angels are probably going to have an albatross on their payroll beginning in 4-5 years. Pujols will be 32 when he starts the season, but there's always been speculation that he's 2-3 years older than his listed age. If he's actually 35, then the Angels will be on the hook for $25 million a year for a guy who is well into his 40s. Yes, he can play DH in the American League, but why would you ever want to spend $25 million a year on a DH? This is a deal that will reap considerable short-term gains at the expense of the long-term.

It means that the Angels could very well be LA's team next year. The new Dodgers owner will probably be greeted as a hero, but he won't be able to do anything substantial until after the 2012 season. I believe the Lakers have begun a serious decline and I don't see them being a title team. With a big name superstar like Pujols, the Angels may get the most media attention of any LA team, something that hasn't ever happened outside of their 2002 World Series run.

It means that new GM Jerry DiPoto will be fawned over by the LA media. He's going to be praised for his bold moves, for his risk taking, for his ability to make a move. He might also be bashed in five years, once Pujols starts to decline.

It means that Arte Moreno will continue to receive praise for spending money and "doing what it takes to win." I'm surprised the Angels had the money to take on Pujols after spending a fortune on the ill-fated Vernon Wells deal. And they overspent for CJ Wilson at $77 million on five years, but I actually believe he will perform.

It means the Angels will have to be creative to improve their bullpen. I was surprised that the Angels didn't make a bigger play for Heath Bell this offseason. If it wasn't for their bullpen last season, the Angels probably would have made the playoffs. I can't imagine they have much cash to spend on relievers, so they'll have to find good players off the scrap heap. Other teams have done it, so it's not out of the realm of possibility.

It means the Angels are empowered to trade Mark Trumbo and/or Kendrys Morales for some useful pieces. They're stuck with Bob Abreu at $9 million this year, reducing the opportunities for either player to DH. I'd expect Trumbo to get moved for more pitching help or for a third baseman. Expect Morales to come along slowly, DH a little, and maybe get dealt next year once he shows he can be healthy.

It means that Vernon Wells can bat in front of Pujols, see better pitches, and potentially have a bounce back season. Eventually though, the Angels will have to think about trading Wells, eating some of his salary, and then make room for Mike Trout. There has been talk that they'd trade Trout for immediate help, but with a high payroll, they will need the all contributions for a low salaried guy like Trout that they can get.

It means that Pujols will hit his 500th home run as an Angel. And probably his 600th home run too. It's not even impossible to think he'll be able to pass Barry Bonds' 762 home runs as Angel (although Alex Rodriguez might also pass Bonds). But this also means that this signing will be disastrous if it's discovered that Pujols used steroids.

If I were the Angels, then I probably wouldn't have made this deal. I think they already had a contending team that could have made a run at the World Series with some tweaking. This contract will eventually feel like a major burden. But I cannot deny the short-term impact this deal has, and the Angels have made a splash like they've never made before. This is bigger than Vlad Guerrero. It's bigger than Reggie Jackson. It will get a ton of attention. But it's a 10-year deal that will probably only bear fruit for 3-4 years.

Tripping the light fantastic at Neiman Marcus shoe department

2011-12-07T06:48:44Z

During the doldrums, say twice a year, I take a little Beverly Hills excursion into that luxe emporium, Neiman Marcus, or, as some have called it, Needless Markup.

Not to buy, but to be awed. Because, after all, everyone needs some enlightenment, some sense of what else is out there besides the saddening news that one in every six Americans lives in poverty, while CEO's take home 100's of millions, telling us that the wealth gap has never been greater...

Especially now, that stroll among pricey items can be an Alice-in-Wonderland experience. $1500 for a pair of designer shoes? At last year's visit I tried on a $700 Christian Louboutin number -- you know him, the guy whose trademark is the red shiny leather sole (seen as Sandra Bullock climbed a small ladder from boat to dock in a scene in "The Proposal").

So what would I find now on this island of insanity?

More bedazzlement. As much by the inventory as the tags. Even with advance notice -- gained by eyeing the designer ads in glossy fashion pages -- these marvels of sculptural shape and engineering acuity (available in lots of high-end stores) were wondrous to behold. As preparation, I oggled Lady Gaga in her be-sequinned, hoof-like platforms by Alexander McQueen.

The display seemed endless - easily 70 different styles. Every famous and emerging designer seems to have indulged in this new sport of erecting skyscraper shoes: stiletto heels of 1/8 inch diameter rising 6" with 3" platforms. And, yes, I dared to try one on. That I couldn't even stand in place, let alone take a step, should not come as a surprise.

And then, from a short distance, another specimen drew me close. It was a multi-colored patent leather - the front panels were chartreuse, shocking pink and black; the heel cup was outfitted with actual spikes (the better to defend against a mugger? a rude date? or just to identify the wearer's dominatrix status? or just to pretend same? or just an expensive joke?).

I stopped a department sales person on his way to the stock room and asked about this particular Ruthie Davis shoe. "Oh, that one," he volunteered, in a surprisingly unappreciative tone. "Can you believe it? We're actually sold out." Phew, I sighed, relieved that there would be no further dissemination of frightening shoe-wear. Even at the bargain price of $1300.

Surely something is amiss. And not just an economy blown to smithereens, with a hole in the middle class and a top 1% owning multiple jets while unloading their lucre on every exorbitant item in sight. But a whole culture that is reflecting extreme taste. Why not? We're having extreme weather, extreme market volatility, extreme sacrifices, austerity for all (but the rich.)

Five years ago it was streetwalkers who wore these high-off-the-ground clodhoppers, and sausaged themselves into spandex skirts that rose to short-shorts level. Now we've got gorgeous young concert pianists wearing the same. So-called high society has lowered itself to pulp fictions.

Surely there's a message here. Sexual power for women, maybe? It used to be the man-tailored suit, that "dress for success" meme, the big padded-shoulders look. Now it's rise high on stilettos, tower over your men, knock them out with nudity, you know, legs, legs and more legs, breast implants and deep decolletage. We can concede, I suppose, this is the new feminine power statement.

But back to the wealthy elite and its exclusive price tags. F. Scott Fitzgerald famously said "Let me tell you about the very rich - they're different from you and me."

Yes, I think we can see that. Nothing is new. If you sit down in the NM shoe department to watch and listen, you'll see women walking to and fro, not talking of Michelangelo, but adrift in their insular worlds of couture fashion, enclosed in their bubble of gadabout galas, living far above the fray and in an outré universe.

Still, I don't think foot-fetish fancying was ever this much fun before.