‘Hardly Strictly’ creator Warren Hellman dead at 77

Warren Hellman, the San Francisco financier whose willingness to fund an unlikely range of passions made him a force in Bay Area politics, education and music, died Sunday evening from complications of leukemia, his family said. He was 77.

Over the last ten or so years, Warren Hellman has brought an incredible amount of joy to Bay Area residents by sponsoring one of the most amazing music festivals in Golden Gate Park, the first weekend in October, entirely free.

Lyle Lovett & his band at 2009 Hardly Strictly Bluegrass.

Mr. Hellman built a fortune as an investor and seemed determined to spend much of it. Co-founder of the Hellman & Friedman private-equity firm, he poured money into local causes, some political, some personal.

I discovered what was then called Strictly Bluegrass in its first year when I happened to ride my bike past Speedway Meadow in Golden Gate Park and there were a couple thousand people enjoying some fingerpicking great tunes. I couldn’t believe that this was happening right in my backyard, but little did I know this would turn into an annual extravaganza with six stages and 300,000 music revelers.

And in 2001, Mr. Hellman sponsored a free, outdoor concert devoted to bluegrass music, a love he’d nurtured for years. Since then, the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass festival has grown into an annual three-day event drawing more than 300,000 people to Golden Gate Park. It is still free, with costs covered by an endowment that Hellman – an amateur banjo player – created to ensure that the festival would continue “after I croak,” he said.

Changing its name to Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, the festival features the likes of Lyle Lovett, Patty Griffin, Elvis Costello, Emmylou Harris, Steve Earle and just this year, Robert Plant.

Buddy Miller, Robert Plant, and Patty Griffin at 2011 Hardly Strictly Bluegrass.

But some of my favorite moments at HSB have come while discovering some of the lesser known but equally talented acts on the smaller stages, like Gandalf Murphy & The Slambovian Circus of Dreams, the Conspiracy of Beards, and of course, Warren’s own band, The Wronglers.

Incidentally, just this week Speedway Meadow got renamed “Hellman Hollow.”

Warren was one of those millionaires who used his blessings in this life to enrich all of our lives with music. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend your money, and I will always be grateful to him for bringing the most gifted musicians in the world to us for a magical 3 days in October, and we didn’t even have to look at one single annoying billboard or advertisement. It was music as it’s meant to be, and the good news for all of us is that it will go on.

His daughter, Patricia Hellman Gibbs, confirmed Sunday:

“yes, the Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival will go on!”

Thank you Warren! May the four winds blow you safely home!

Here’s another great obituary from the Bay Citizen, a publication his passion for journalism led him to found in 2010:
The Billionaire Who Loved Bluegrass

Also from the article a youtube of Hellman singing about his great-grandfather with his band, The Wronglers.

what there is
may not be there
and what may come
has always been

what is a rock
is tomorrow’s sand
your deepest wish
buried in your hand

the seed you sow
may not become
the plant envisioned
but it will find its way
if you water it

change eats
from the bowl of the past
slowly emptying
the reservoir of certainty
with each spoonful of dwindling prospects
remember
you’re being nourished

also posted on A World of Words

On a recent reunion trip to Schroon Lake in Northern New York, my friends and I took a day hike along the northern end of the lake toward Pharaoh Lake. I don’t know if it was just that time of year or if the moist post-hurricane Irene setting had anything to do with it, but within just a few hundred yards from the road we found ourselves in a sea of mushrooms, the likes of which I had never seen before.

Amanita mushroom near Schroon Lake in Northern New York.

Now I’m not a biologist, botanist, or mycologist, and my first inclination when I’m out in the woods is to just marvel at the beauty of the great web of life rather than trying to name and explain individual inhabitants. But I do admit that with each additional weird and wonderful fungal specimen I was wishing I had a little Paul Stamets in my pocket, whispering exotic Latin botanical names in my ear to guide me on this journey through wonderland.

Trunk Buttons.

Being a dreamer and generally teetering toward the poetic side of life I have no problem making up names for these mystical creatures along the path, like characters in a story. If nothing else, it’ll give everyone a chance to pitch in and identify these mushrooms by their proper name.

Leopard Dome.

For those of us whose main contact with mushrooms occurs at the grocery store it may come as quite the revelation that there are approximately 14000 described species of mushrooms in the world. When we think of mushrooms we generally envision something that looks like this specimen…

Fat Umbrella Family.

or this one…

Safeway, Aisle 7.

However, beneath the most common button-types dwells a mysterious realm of shapes, colors and consistencies that tickle the senses with juicy delight…

Luscious Oyster.

sublime depth…

Purple Shnurple.

or utter surprise…

Deep Ink.

They come in white…

White Roulette.

black…

Hello, I’m Your Friendly Forest Cookie Monster.

or black & white…

I’m a Man.

Without so much as touching any of these creatures, this was one of the trippiest places I’ve ever been. Whether it was from afar…

Heeellllooooo!.

or up close…

Spores Galore.

it was like we had traveled to a distant fairyland located somewhere between heaven and the imagination.

Whether we looked up…

Tree’s Up.

or down…

Tree’s Down.

we were immersed in an ecosystem all of its own design.

Tree’s a Crowd.

Like an ancient culture rich in diversity, information and mystery, these fungal spawns are like fertile landscapes within landscapes…

Tickle Me Shroom.

habitats unto themselves…

Snailed It.

that seem like perfect motifs on God’s great canvas…

Butterfly Airport.

And speaking of God, as someone who has extensively pondered the origin of that great big concert hall in the sky, I’ve always found the imagery of the old man with the white beard rather limiting and disappointing, much too literal. But upon seeing this specimen I had to rethink and re-imagine….

Old Man with a White Beard.

What if God is a mushroom?

I’m not suggesting that divine creation would pick one little mushroom as its exclusive costume. So how about, what if God is Mushroom? Now, of course we all know that since God is too big for just one country, just one religion, just one planet, this all-encompassing energy of boundless and unconditional love and truth is also too big for just one species. But I like the idea of these beautiful, primordial and little-understood forest creatures as manifestations or metaphors for something as large and omnipresent as divine inspiration.

Let’s try this one on.

God is big…

I’m Up for It.

and God is small…

Little Red Riding Hood.

God is mysterious…

Pass the Conch.

and climbing a wall…

Gemini.

God shines a light…

Solar Energy.

and humbly blends in…

Pine Cone Protection Program .

she’s got a million touches…

Coral Candy.

and to be found by looking at everything…

I’m not an Owl.

Come on in, the ground is soft and the water refreshing!

Wash it all Clean.

o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~o

all photos by Sven Eberlein

Memorable words from one of Canada’s top officials on hearing that the Canadian Embassy in Croatia had offered support for Franke’s art show.

From Dear Prime Minister, by Franke James

Well, you’d think the government of a major western democracy would have better things to do than to sabotage and try to silence their most creative people, but, oh well, think again. Mind you, we’re not talking about any dark or satanic scribbles, but some of the most witty and self-reflective series of visual environmental commentary I’ve ever seen. And yes, Franke is one of the most delightful human beings ever, not just because I’ve had inspiring email exchanges with her, but because she does truly uplifting things like having dinner with a stranger. Check out any of her amazing visual essays, and you’ll know what I’m talking about.

So what’s going on? Well, the Canadian Government, led by Prime Minister Stephen Harper’s Conservative Party, has been actively working to shut down Franke’s solo European art exhibition, which was set to tour 20 cities in Europe. I say “was” because the latest update is that Franke’s show got canceled after the government persuaded her corporate sponsor to cancel their $75,000 sponsorship, and the Croatian NGO who was organizing Franke’s “What can one person do?” art show to raise environmental awareness with youth and inspire teens to make their own climate change art was pulled into the crossfires of Canadian politics when they discovered that Franke was on the Canadian Government’s blacklist.

Blacklist??? WTF? What is this, 1953?

Check out the whole story, it reads like a cold war spy movie, but it basically comes down to this:

But apparently, I’ve ignited the Harper Government’s fury by telling the truth about Canada’s footdragging on climate action. And having the audacity to advocate pollution taxes and tougher environmental policies on Alberta’s Tar Sands!

But as so often when the bully tries to overplay his hand, he risks shooting himself in the foot. See United breaks Guitars by another Canadian compatriot.

Silenced in Europe, Franke Gets Loud in Ottawa!

So now it’s time for Franke to push back, not only to expose the bully, but to expose the truth about the Canadian government’s extensive efforts in Europe to kill climate change legislation targeting the Alberta tar sands. She’s teamed up with a really cool organization, loudsauce.com, who is helping to send her “banned” artwork to Ottawa, and launch a poster campaign on the city’s public billboards and bus shelters. We can help fund the campaign, and/or spread the word.

Let’s make sure Franke goes to Ottawa!

The longest, most sunlight-filled day in the Northern Hemisphere feels like a good occasion to talk about visions. Visions by nature are somewhere in the distance, perhaps reachable, perhaps not. Where we stand right now is the result of past visions, some of them good, some of them bad, much of it in the eye of the beholder. Without vision, however, we stand still. This might be preferable to moving in the direction of blurred or destructive visions, but as change is the only constant in life, the best way to nurture and guide that change is to add our own vision to the grand pool of dreams and ideas.

As I’m looking toward the horizon, I see many things, some of them clearly, others a bit out of focus. I see views that may materialize by taking a couple of firm steps toward them, and others that may take quite a leap of faith. Today, on this solstice, I’m feeling inspired to take a big leap, a step so giant that it has room for a thousand “buts” and “dream ons,” a vision that sounds either too good to be true or too far out to be taken seriously. But what’s reality other than a current condition we all tacitly agree upon, for no other reason than the perception that everyone else acts as if that condition is “normal?”

So here it is, my solstice vision, with visuals and sounds to help look and carry us past the horizon:

What If Music Ruled the World?

Drum and dance circle on Valencia St, photo Debra Baida

Music the Motivator

Nobody likes to be patronized. It’s been the downfall of rulers, leaders, and hierarchies throughout history. Sure, you can threaten and scare people into changing their ways but it’ll be a constant struggle. In fact, people get very creative in defying orders, not necessarily because they disagree with the content of the message, but because nobody likes to be told what to do and how to behave.

If music ruled the world, it would inspire people to do things differently because it’s fun and uplifting, literally…

Music the Connector

There’s not much we can achieve by ourselves on this planet, we all depend on each other, not just to survive but to evolve as sentient beings. All too often we get into quarrels because we don’t know each other and judge each other based upon assumptions made in the most lonesome corners of our own minds.

If music ruled the world, it would bring us all together more freely and more deeply…

Music the Peacemaker

Some say that war is just part of the human experience on earth. If that is so, why does everyone keep talking about wanting peace? Even the most entrenched conflicts have a solution, but too often the same unimaginative people are in charge of finding them, with the exact same, stale methods over and over again. What if for just one year we would entrust the peace process in Israel to the musicians of Jerusalem, with negotiations to take place as part of a jam session? Sounds to me like the perfect recipe for taking a giant leap.

If music ruled the world, we would listen more to each other…

Music the Creative Force

Whether it’s politics, business, or public policy, we have a tendency to entrust the least inspiring bureaucrats with the biggest tasks of creating the fundamental changes we all know we need. Albert Einstein famously equated insanity with doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. Music is one of those rare forces that liberates our deeply ingrained thought patterns, opening up a deeper reservoir of inspiration we never knew about, whether we’re playing or listening.

If music ruled the world, we would come up with creative solutions to our most pressing issues…

and last but not least,

Music the Teacher

How often do we all find ourselves in situations where we want to make a point or convey a message but nobody is paying attention? How many good ideas have gotten lost or were never expressed because they just didn’t groove enough? Most of the important public policy presentations and speeches by our representatives across the globe go in one ear and out the other because they’re too boring.

If music ruled the world, we would pay more attention to what’s important…

This is my vision, what’s yours?

Happy Solstice

A couple of days ago the 6th annual Bicycle Music Festival, the largest 100% bicycle-powered music festival in the world, took place in San Francisco. Starting at Old Cabin Meadow in Golden Gate Park, the event then went mobile with a Live on Bike performance ride from Golden Gate Park to Potrero Hill, with the night time portion of the event happening at the Showplace Triangle at 16th & Wisconsin.

I was there for the Old Cabin Meadow part of the festival and soaked in the vibe of this truly amazing event.

The mission of the Bicycle Music Festival is to promote sustainable culture in general and bicycle culture in particular, by physically engaging and immersing our community in the magic of bike culture, and cultivating and nurturing a network of local sustainable musicians, through our staging of free, community participatory, bicycle-based music events.

When I first arrived it was still early on in the festival. The second band of the day, klezmer flamenco rockers Cradle Duende, was just setting up, but the thing that immediately struck me about this event was the “community participatory” part of it. There was no raised stage, roped off VIP areas or any other hint that we weren’t all participants here. I walked right through the “stage” and behind the row of bikes that had been set up for all of us to power the 2000 watt pedal-powered PA system.

It was really quite amazing. Instead of the usual stinky and noisy gas powered generators that would be used for an event like this, there was this…

and just like a conventional concert, there were a bunch of technicians running around, working out the kinks, only these guys specialize in bike power!

The human-powered P/A system, which besides being the most fun and green way to amplify a live concert, also transforms every song into an audience participation song, and radically democratizes the concert-goer experience (the power to amplify the people onstage rests entirely in the will of the people offstage; democracy at its healthiest you might say!).

More about the sound system and how it all works here.

This is quite a revelation. Too often the technology we invent ends up separating us from the experience, making us mere spectators in someone else’s master plan: Here we are now, entertain us. But here we were all active parts of a collective experience, in effect co-creating whatever was about to unfold. Instead of the usual wall of sounds and lights that runs on borrowed energy from distant places we don’t even know, this was about as real and immediate as it gets. When the bands started rockin and legs got tired, the call would go out for fresh pedalers…

One thing about a bicycle music festival, you meet quirky and fun people with quirky and fun bikes. I had a great chat with Svante from Sweden about washboards and Pedersen Bicycles…

Then it was time for Cradle Duende to play a smokin’ set (I’m trying my hand as a videographer on my point and shoot, so excuse the occasional shakiness)…

followed by Evan Francis Jazz Band, for whom the double-decker tree bike generator kicked into action…

while over in the “backstage” area fresh smoothies were pedaled…

of course, I couldn’t resist…

and speaking of backstage…

the all access pass at BFM grants you rare insights into musicians’ gig preparation that regular concert goers can only “dream” of…

The audience (all cyclists, of course) were equally relaxed…

that is, until the barn dancing started…

and things got spinning…

that’s when Svante got in on the action…

here’s what it felt like from my amateur video perspective…

Things were really picking up now, the meadow filling up with ever more people and their bikes, as everyone was getting ready for the bicycle-mobility part of the festival:

The entire audience/band/stage/crew completely packs-up everything they bring (stage and musical equipment too) onto bicycles, and travels as a large group to the next festival stop. There are no sag-wagons or equipment trucks hauling the amplifiers and other heavy gear – everything is hauled by bicycle.

Unfortunately, I had to go to another engagement planned already, but here’s a clip from a previous BFM that paints the picture:

Live On Bike mobile stage: Artists and bands perform while rolling down the city streets mounted on the backs of cargo bikes and bike trailers outfitted with microphones and amplifiers. The sound is wirelessly routed to “soulcycle” party bikes interspersed throughout the crowd, surrounding the crowd with sound.

The moral of the story? Well, you could make the case that this might be a window into the future, when community, simplicity, collaboration and inventiveness will fare best on a planet with shrinking fossil fuel reservoirs. You could stress the importance of creativity in changing the way we look at the world and existing unsustainable paradigms, and I have.

On a basic utilitarian level, you could ask why cities, municipalities and cities haven’t integrated the concept of collective pedal power in their plans. Think of all the health clubs and gyms where thousands of people waste away precious kinetic energy every day. How about stationary bikes at street corners and city plazas to feed energy into the local grid? I mean really, if a bunch of musicians and artist types can pull off the technology to power a moving rock concert, imagine what we could do if our brightest, most educated minds were put to work on this. If we can build missiles and smart bombs, we surely can build smart bikes and systems to distribute pedal power.

But ultimately I look at this from a much more primal, gut-instinct perspective.

It’s as simple as this: What’s not to love about bikes and music?

o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~o~O~o

Photos & Videos (except Sendin’ Out) by Sven Eberlein

More pics here

The creator of this video says he wandered around Jerusalem, met with musicians, and filmed them. That to me sounds like the perfect recipe to start any kind of peace process…

Check out the site, but here’s an old favorite of people choosing to walk up the stairs because they get to play “foot piano” which is truly an example of sowing seeds for creative change.

For the past three months, my daily walk down the street has been seasoned by a small but quite lovely addition to the neighborhood. Whenever I’d cross the street at Valencia and 21st, a friendly, almost fairy-like voice would ring from around the corner, beckoning me with a cherubic “Hello Sir, would you like to try some soup?”

While fate conspired for me to have just eaten or be on the way to a dinner every time I passed by, there still was such a magnetic pull in that voice, something that made me want to stop and be in the presence of whatever it was that was breaking my routine. In an almost cartoonish rendering of myself, my legs, stoically programmed to take me to my predetermined destination as quickly as possible, kept plowing ahead while my upper body housing the sensory headquarters kept hovering on the corner, lured by the sweet and mysterious offer, expanding my conflicted character like a gigantic imaginary elastic band.

Each time the old faithful legs prevailed, and after a momentary space and time-defying suspension in mid-air to bathe in the possibility of divine soup from a random stranger, the eternally curious and sensuous noggin snapped out of its state of wonderment, hurriedly catching up with the duty-bound part of myself.

It wasn’t until last Friday that I finally took the leash off my soul and left my house determined to be interrupted and detoured from wherever I thought I was going, ready to be seduced by whatever culinary fragrances any street elves might be wafting down the sidewalk. My one and only ode to preparedness consisted of a glass jar and a spoon, for as much as I believe in elfin magic I did not expect there to be any dish-washing to be taking place on the corner. I’m a sucker for the Reduce part of the 3 R’s.

I strolled down Valencia Street in giddy anticipation. When I got to the corner of 21st and looked up to where I had come to expect the joyous soup calls I was greeted by an empty sidewalk and a gusty wind blowing in my face. Was the magic soup only meant to happen when you’re not thinking about it? Did I jinx it by making an “appointment?”

Momentum carrying me forward I kept walking along Valencia, and behold, less than half a block in, in the doorway of the Vanilla Saffron Imports store at 980 Valencia, he was just setting up.

“Hello Sir, would you like to try some soup?”

Wow, I had finally arrived. This is the stuff I live for, the moments that make life so damn fabulous. To hell with conventions, here’s a guy who’s cooking soup on the sidewalk!

“Hi, I’m Patrick. I’ve got Mulligatawny with Rice today. Mushrooms, green apples, carrots, celery, curry, water, and a little bit of pepper. It’s like a chicken soup with rice, but no chicken. Mulligatawny is an Indian dish, adopted by the English and Australians, that translates as ‘pepper water.’”

“So you’re a soup specialist?” I ask spontaneously and for the lack of a better question.

“I’ve always made soups, but I’m not a specialist,” Patrick responds patiently. “Soup is extremely difficult to become a specialist at. It’s not just ‘throw some things in a pot and hope something is gonna happen.’ Every time I make a soup I learn something, every single time. Even today, I introduced rice into this new dish.”

You can tell that Patrick is very passionate about his craft, and it’s that passion that makes me want to hang out right here on the sidewalk and dig deeper.

“What’s the best one you’ve made?” I ask.

“It varies, because the soup that you like may not be the soup that this gentleman enjoys. [Turns to gentleman.] Would you like a soup today?”

Gentleman: “I don’t have any money, I’m sorry.”

Patrick: “Would you like a sample?”

Gentleman: “Sure! What kind of soup is it?”

Patrick: “Today is mulligatawny with rice. The soup’s a $5 donation, but if you ever come by and only have a few dollars, that’s fine. Everybody needs to eat and I always try to cook a little extra for people who are strapped for cash. [Hands over the sample.] What’s your name?”

Gentleman: “Daniel.”

Daniel devours his sample and the look on his face says it all…

Next thing you know, people are stopping to smell the soup, wondering what’s going on. From the distance at first…

but Patrick’s hearty invitation to step into the kitchen is irresistible…

When asked how he got the idea of selling soup in the street, Patrick says he just started doing this as a hobby, as something that he enjoys.

“I’m a local, I live around the corner on Hill Street. One day my roommate says, ‘You know that soup thing, you should give it a go. You always talk about it, you should try it on your next day off.’ So we went to the restaurant supply store, picked out a few things, some things were donated. I started working on the corner of Valencia and 21st three months ago and it was an instant success. I went from, “Are people gonna want soup?” to “People really want soup!”

And the fact that it’s not just delicious soup but delicious soup you didn’t expect to have and you’re enjoying while chatting it up with the chef on the sidewalk puts an extra smile on people’s face that you just don’t see at a restaurant.

When we talk about climate change with its myriad of complex causes it’s easy to get overwhelmed and tune out. A common perception I think is that the scale of the problem is so big and mostly out of our personal reach that the scale of the solution must be equally big and out of reach. There are so many mostly unknown industrial processes between us and the food we eat, the clothes we wear, the shelter we seek or the means by which we travel that to find out where something came from or how many hands it passed through is an exercise in futility. No wonder our only recourse often is to hope that whoever is “in charge” of this maze will make things better, greener, perhaps more organic.

However, while rocket science may help to undo some of the rocket science that has enabled us to extract and burn up millions of years worth of carbon in less than two centuries, it’s going to be less and less useful in navigating us through an era of shrinking fossil fuels. As tempting as the hope in new miracle technology or the next great invention to make the whole industrial apparatus run more efficiently may be, the solution cannot be to add more complexity in the name of streamlining a fundamentally unsustainable way of living together.

There’s a beauty and richness in human to human contact that’s as old as humanity itself. The immediacy and joy of building something from scratch, watching a plant grow or shaking the hand that feeds us is so simple and yet universal, it doesn’t require advanced degrees or expensive machines. So much of our modern lives is predicated on the fear of losing things we didn’t need in the first place when our most memorable and meaningful moments happen during the simple and heartfelt interactions we have with one another. To rediscover and honor these moments I believe is a huge part in laying the foundation upon which we humans can live in balance with the little round ball we walk on.

Or as Patrick would say, wake up and smell the soup!

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Find out about tonight’s soup on Patrick’s twitter and facebook pages

Full interview with Patrick Bostwick at Mission Local.