Review: Memoir on S F feminist theater troupe Les Nickelettes animated by pluck and gumption sfchronicle.com - get the latest breaking news, showbiz & celebrity photos, sport news & rumours, viral videos and top stories from sfchronicle.com Daily Mail and Mail on Sunday newspapers.
Sam Whiting April 28, 2021Updated: April 28, 2021, 8:00 pm
Artist William Wiley is interviewed in 1996 at his Woodacre studio in Marin County. Photo: Jerry Telfer, The Chronicle 1996
William T. Wiley a founder of the Bay Area Funk art movement who expanded into every medium and style of creation from watercolor to printmaking to giant sculptures in a career that lasted from 1960 until just a few months ago died Sunday, April 25, at Marin General Hospital.
His death was due to complications from Parkinson’s disease, which he’d suffered from since 2014, said his son, Ethan Wiley. He was 83.
A painter with a unique style developed at an early age, Wiley had exhibited at the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art in 1960 when he was 23 and still an undergraduate at the San Francisco Art Institute. Since then, SFMOMA has come to own 50 of his pieces, with eight of them in mediums from ink on felt and leather to etching on paper on display in a designated gallery s
Sam Whiting and Nora Mishanec February 23, 2021Updated: February 25, 2021, 10:24 pm
Lawrence Ferlinghetti at his apartment in North Beach in March 2018. Photo: Carlos Avila Gonzalez, The Chronicle 2018
Lawrence Ferlinghetti, the first poet laureate of San Francisco, was so beloved that on Tuesday, Feb. 23, a day after his death at age 101, Supervisor Aaron Peskin closed the regular meeting of the Board of Supervisors with a four-minute memorial sermon that went uninterrupted.
Peskin touched on the great poet’s internal contradictions as both a Navy man and a pacifist, and his abiding belief that the funkiness of North Beach must be protected, which Ferlinghetti himself did by cranking his red jalopy truck up and down the steep hills and along Columbus Avenue. By the end of his speech, Peskin was visibly emotional.
In defense of Pier 39. May it rise after the pandemic kitschier than ever
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Richard Nixon. The Zodiac Killer. The Embarcadero Freeway. The Oil Crisis. The Bee Gees.
Nothing
else from the 1970s got worse reviews in the pages of The San Francisco Chronicle than Pier 39. The waterfront tourist center, upon its arrival in 1978, the greatest existential crisis in the city’s history larger than an earthquake and fire that destroyed half of San Francisco in 1906. (For all its horrors, no one compared the earthquake to prostitution.)
“Tourism kills, believe me,” columnist Charles McCabe wrote unironically on Nov. 20, 1978. “My objection is that the City Fathers (and a mother or two) have caved in wholly before the idea of tourism, which I happened to think is the worst thing that has happened to San Francisco. … These strangers tend to treat these amenities with much the same regard as a john pays to a whore.”