The Vine

I know the whole world saw it during the Super Bowl. But it’s clever. And sweet. And it’s the very heart of community. 

When new ventures emerge from connections made at The Vine, we like to celebrate them.

Violinist Rebecca Jackson (top, in 2006) and actress Claytie Mason (below, in 2007) have contributed some of The Vine’s most memorable, soul-stirring moments.

Rebecca opened our hearts with not only the richness of her music, but even more so the deeply personal and moving story of her grandfather’s influence on her life. Claytie (along with Annalisa Derr and Alissa Mortenson) portrayed the poignant, at times haunting, life stories of “The Secret Ruths of Island House,” reminding us how much of our cultural wisdom and heritage is simply bottled up in retirement communities.

These two remarkable talents are now collaborating on a new project — a theatrical adaptation of the ballad “The Wind and Rain.” The official write-up is below.

Performances will run from April 8th through May 1st (Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights) at San Francisco’s EXIT Theatre, famous for its intimate, cabaret atmosphere and cutting-edge experimental works.

Tickets can be purchased here.

Hope I might run into you at one of the shows.

THE WIND AND RAIN

Produced by EXIT Theatre as part of Divafest 2010

“There were two sisters of County Claire, Oh the wind and rain. One was dark and the other was fair. Oh the dreadful wind and rain…”

Two sisters in a small mill town on the brink of extinction, a mysterious stranger with a fiddle made of bones, a river that runs dangerously high. Based on the well known ballad The Wind and Rain, come see this age old tale about sisters, love, jealousy, revenge and the consequence of change. Created in collaboration with acclaimed physical performers Brynna Jourdan and Jenna Bean Veatch, live music and original compositions from renowned concert violinist Rebecca Jackson (Völs String Quartet, San Francisco Opera), visual delights from esteemed illustrator, painter and whimsical engineer Molly Millar (Phantom Galleries L.A.’s Emergence Enchanted, 2009 TED Conference), and award winning playwright Claytie Mason (The Secret Ruths of Island House). This tragic tale comes to life with the humor, whimsy, magic, and terror only live theatre is capable of. Produced by EXIT Theatre, cutting the edge for almost 30 years and still slicing so much tasty theatre on the fringe berry pie.

*Performed by Rebecca Jackson, Brynna Jourdan and Jenna Bean Veatch

Good music sounds even better through headphones.

It’s richer and fuller, it has more texture, and you pick up subtleties that you might not hear through speakers. And oftentimes it’s those subtleties that evoke a deeper, more emotional response to the music, beyond just ‘It has a nice beat and I can dance to it.’

The same holds true for many other types of encounters, particularly highly experiential retail ones. When people interact with your product or your brand — that is, when they try on your headphones — will they notice the texture and subtlety beneath the surface?

You experience this in landscaping that appeals to multiple senses and feels, somehow, like a garden. Or in a streetscape that makes you want to take a stroll, even if you can’t put your finger on precisely the reason why.

In a model home complex, I want to see books on the bedstand that tell me I belong here, not just whatever the merchandiser picked up from a used bookstore. With all due respect to Ernie Hemingway, Mysteries of Pittsburgh and A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius send very different signals than For Whom the Bell Tolls.

Let’s bring this back to music. The tunes piped through the model home sound system could be a generic satellite feed (or, worse, a local radio station). Or they could be personalized to my taste by Pandora. Or even curated by an audio architect from Muzak.

You could argue these are toppings on the sundae and what matters most is the ice cream.

And I would say you’re right, sort of.

But what is it you’re marketing…a rich, gooey chocolate sundae…or a bowl of vanilla ice cream?

[ NB: For readers who don't know me by sight, no, that's not me dancing. I'm nowhere near that hip. ]