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Matthew Kennedy, host and curator of the CinemaLit film series at MI, grew up watching old movies with his mom and performing in musicals at his high school in Redding. He went on to dance professionally and teach anthropology and film history at City College of San Francisco for 23 years. The recipient of a Fulbright research fellowship and a San Francisco Cable Car Media/Journalism Award for film criticism, he has published three biographies of classic Hollywood as well as Roadshow!, a history of the decline of big-screen musicals.

This week, Mechanics’ Institute chatted with Kennedy by phone about movies, modern dance, and the awe-inspiring apricot tree in his backyard.

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Besides CinemaLit, what are you up to now?

In retirement, I’m discovering non-film things! My partner and I are very much into gardening—we have six raised beds and we’re learning how to be urban farmers. We have peaches, apricots, figs, lettuce, lots of tomatoes… It’s unexpected, the pleasure I get from it. I always thought I’m someone only interested in art and music and books, but I love getting my hands dirty.

Speaking of books, are you working on something new?

I’m writing for Bright Lights Film Journal and the Bay Area Reporter. My eyes are open to book number five constantly, but there isn’t a clear path yet.

Early on in adult life, you were a performing artist. Can you say more about that?

At UCLA I majored in theater, and discovered that my favorite thing to do was dance. I was too old to consider a career in classical ballet, so I went into modern dance. I performed in San Francisco in the ’80s with Margaret Jenkins and then went to New York and studied with Merce Cunningham.

And then what happened?

Shin splints. Also, the starving-artist routine got old. I started thinking, ‘You know, I’d really like a steady paycheck, I’d really like health insurance—I think I’m having bourgeois envy.’ And then a lot of other stuff happened, including graduate school in anthropology. I didn’t dance for literally several decades.

But I am dancing now! I’m taking Modern Dance for the Returning Dancer, taught by [MI member] Virginia Matthews, who I danced with 35 years ago. It’s this fantastic physical homecoming. Rather than being depressed about what I can’t do, it’s exciting what I can still do.

Is there a connection between your passion for modern dance and your work as a  film historian?

Not a really coherent one. My love of film predated theater or dance. My mom was a great film fan and we would watch oldies on TV together. She would educate me. She’d say, ‘Oh, you know, that’s Irene Dunne, and she played these wonderful, dignified visions of womanhood.’ ‘Oh, that’s Humphrey Bogart; he excelled at tough guy roles.’ I just sort of absorbed this. And at some point after dance, I realized I’d collected a lot of knowledge about American movies. And I started writing reviews. And that led to books.

So what’s coming up next for CinemaLit, after the current series on the British New Wave?

We're talking about a month of screen romances, funny, sad, and in-between. Post-sheltering, I’d like to do a month on musicals, some of the wonderful, non-standard ones, like Love Me Tonight with Maurice Chevalier and Jeanette MacDonald, and The Bandwagon, a Fred Astaire showcase. We’ve talked about a tribute to character actors of the studio era, like Beulah Bondi, Agnes Moorehead, Claude Raines—wonderful actors who were never headliners. Our current [film subscription] catalog is strong with foreign language films, so shoot, let’s take advantage of that, have some Kurosawa and Truffaut. When we get back to non-sheltering, we’ll also continue the Pre-Code Barbara Stanwyck month we started in March.

What’s different about hosting film series at MI, as compared to other venues?

The CinemaLit crowd is absolutely amazing. So many people have so many perceptive things to say. I come up with something to launch the discussion, and then really it takes care of itself. With an older audience, they bring this knowledge and life experience. ‘I lived through this history,’ or ‘I saw this 30 years ago.’ But there’s also a sense of discovery. We’re all still capable of that, too.

Are there films that speak to the situation we have now with the pandemic?

I watch about five movies a week, and sometimes there will be a line of dialogue that reminds me of what we’re experiencing. Recently, I watched just a few minutes of Stella Dallas with Barbara Stanwyck. Somebody asked her a question and her response was, ‘Oh no, I haven’t been out of the house for two months.’ A casual line in a different context, from the Depression, suddenly jumped out because it’s 2020.

Anything else that you would like people reading this interview to know?

The other day I walked up to our apricot tree, which has lots of new branches, new leaves, new baby apricots for the first time. With the branches surrounding me, I stood right up against the trunk and meditated. I’m not a parent but I had paternal feelings. ‘I grew you from a stick and now you are making fruit.’ The kind of feeling that is particularly valued now as an antidote to all the challenges we face. New life, the renewal of spring. The pandemic was not affecting this beautiful young tree in this slightest.

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Currently conducted on Zoom, CinemaLit takes place at 6 p.m. on Friday evenings. For more information, or to register for an upcoming discussion, click here.

 

 

Good news for everyone who’d like to have home internet access but can’t afford it: several local internet providers are discounting their services during the coronavirus outbreak.

The internet can be a lifeline right now, a way for those of us sheltering in place to get important information about what’s going on, and to stay connected with family, friends, and the larger world. Internet access gives us the ability to shop from home for groceries and other necessities, to have face-to-face health care appointments and to keep up the connections (social, religious, mental health, etc.) that help us maintain equilibrium in challenging times.

But for those living on fixed incomes, a category that includes many seniors and Mechanics’ Institute members, the cost of going online can be prohibitive--a standard monthly bill for internet service may run $50 or more. Now multiple providers are offering low-cost internet service to eligible San Francisco residents (click here for detailed information from the City of San Francisco). If you live outside the City, please check with individual providers to see if service is available at your address.

Currently, discounting providers include:

AT&T Access: Home internet service is free for two months for new customers who sign up by May 23, with a monthly charge of $5-$10 after that date. Free installation and in-home Wi-Fi. Applicants must live in a household that receives benefits from Supplemental Security Income (SSI) or the Supplemental Nutritional Assistance Program (SNAP). Call (855) 220-5211 to sign up.

Comcast Internet Essentials: Home internet service is $9.95 a month, plus tax, with the first 60 days of service provided at no charge. Free installation and in-home Wi-Fi. Applicants must live in a household that is eligible for public assistance programs. Call (855) 846-8376 to sign up.

Sonic: Home internet service is free for three months for new customers; regular rates apply thereafter. Free installation and in-home Wi-Fi. Eligible applicants include seniors (60 and over) and educators, among others. Call (888) 766-4233 to sign up.

Monkeybrains: Home internet service is $35 a month. Free installation. Eligible applicants must live in a household with a San Francisco Unified School District student. Call (415) 974-1313 to sign up.

Note that most of these low-cost offers are linked to the duration of the pandemic so if you’re interested, now is the time to explore the options. Stay safe, and hope to see you online soon!

Daydreaming about future travels? Tired of the same old view? If you could use a fresh perspective right about now, a virtual museum visit may be just the ticket. With free access to hundreds of museum collections, exhibits, and tours available via your computer or smartphone, there’s no shortage of ways to broaden your visual horizons.

The British Museum in London, the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, the Guggenheim in New York, the Munch Museum in Oslo, the National Museum in Tokyo—and dozens of other renowned repositories around the globe—are all just a few clicks away.

 A few suggestions to get you started:

Fall down a rabbit hole at the Google Arts & Culture website, featuring virtual content and images from more than 2,000 museums and archives in 80 countries. Or download the free mobile app, also called Google Arts & Culture, which includes nifty interactive options like projecting masterpieces onto your own walls or discovering your doppelgänger in a portrait.

Take a five-hour virtual tour of Russia’s vast Hermitage. Captured on iPhone in a single take, the video showcases both digital technology and the glories of the famed St. Petersburg galleries.

Get a look at the Louvre without waiting in line. The world’s most-visited museum offers multiple virtual tours.

View selected galleries and rooms of the Vatican, and enjoy the opportunity to ogle the ceiling of Michelangelo’s mind-blowing Sistine Chapel without getting a kink in your neck.

Check out the Metropolitan Museum of New York’s digital collection and short virtual tours of highlights like the medieval collection at The Cloisters and the Egyptian Temple of Dendur, dating back to 10 B.C.

For something completely different, stop by the Museum of Broken Relationships. Located in Zagreb, Los Angeles, and cyberspace, the collection consists entirely of symbolic personal artifacts and first-person accounts of love gone wrong.

Writing is an outrageously time-consuming occupation. Parenting, even more so. Yet somehow, some human beings manage to do both simultaneously. Today, in honor of Mother’s Day 2020, we offer glimpses into the lives of women who have tackled both literary and maternal careers—and lived (in most cases) to tell the tale.

Let’s get real

In 2013, Alice Munro capped her brilliant career as a short-story writer with a Nobel prize. But why, she has often been asked, did she never publish a novel? Initially, “it was simply a matter of expediency,” the Canadian author told The Atlantic in 2001. “I had small children, I didn't have any help. There was no way I could get that kind of time.” (Click here for 88-year-old Munro’s latest collection, Dear Life).

Nature, not nurture

In 1797, the English writer Mary Wollstonecraft (A Vindication of the Rights of Women) died just a few days after giving birth to her second daughter. But her legacy lived on: the baby—also named Mary—grew up to be the wife of Romantic poet Percy Shelley, and the author of the Gothic classic Frankenstein.

On second thought

Once upon a time, Claire Messud wasn’t interested in offspring. “One thing I ‘knew’ growing up was that one mustn’t have children if one wanted to write,” she recalled in a 2015 interview with The Boston Globe. Today, Messud is the author of six critically-acclaimed novels (including New York Times bestseller The Emperor's Children) and the mother of two teens.

Mom as metaphor

In 1885, Charlotte Perkins Gilman gave birth to her only child and promptly plunged into the horrific depression described in her short story, “The Yellow Wallpaper.” Eventually ceding child custody to her spouse, Gilman became a prominent social reformer and author, calling for women to get out of the house, enter the workforce, and “mother” the entire world.

Four little words

Prolific novelist Jennifer Weiner, when asked by Writer’s Digest how she managed to write with two young daughters at home, cut right to the chase: “I have a nanny.”  (Check out Weiner’s latest, the 2019 family saga Mrs. Everything.)

A little self-restraint, please

According to Alice Walker, whose numerous influential works range from the Pulitzer prize-winning The Color Purple to a memoir on chicken farming, it’s perfectly possible to write while parenting. The only catch: the writer must limit herself to a single child. “With more than one you’re a sitting duck,” warns Walker, whose daughter, Rebecca, follows in her professional footsteps.

Sisterhood is powerful

Elizabeth Cady Stanton, the 19th-century powerhouse who penned The Woman’s Bible and co-wrote the multi-volume History of Women’s Suffrage with Susan B. Anthony, was the mother of seven. The secret behind her literary success? More often than not, she’d tap childfree Anthony to babysit while she wrote.

Keep out (this means you)

Novelist and essayist Zadie Smith (Grand Union, Swing Time) has met many a deadline while mothering. Her advice? “Protect the time and space in which you write. Keep everybody away from it, even the people who are most important to you.”

Happy Mother’s Day to all—and whatever your profession, may you find the time, space, and bandwidth to get your work done!

 

Kim Shuck, the seventh poet laureate of San Francisco, is a fifth-generation resident of the city. She’s also a community activist, an enrolled member of the Cherokee Nation of Oklahoma, and an accomplished visual artist whose beadwork has been exhibited across the U.S. The author of seven collections of poems, including 2019’s Deer Trails, Shuck is known for spare, accessible lines that reference nature and, often, San Francisco’s indigenous roots. As National Poetry Month drew to a close, Mechanics’ Institute put in a call to Shuck to find out what being poet laureate is all about.

 

Q:  Okay . . . so what does a poet laureate actually do?

A:  Some people view it as a compliment but I’ve viewed it as a job. One of the first things was, I gave free classes in every library branch in the city. I’ve been supporting the work of poets, encouraging young poets, continuing to support the reputation of San Francisco’s poetry scene in the nation and in the world. I do about twenty shows a month.

Q:  Are there perks?

A:  I may never have to argue to get something published again. People call to ask me questions about stuff if there is a need for a poetic opinion. And there are things I’ve learned to accept. I’m [now] completely indifferent as to whether someone takes my photo as long as it’s not straight up my nose.

Q:  Last year, you were one of just thirteen city and state poet laureates to receive a grant from the Academy of American Poets and the Andrew Mellon foundation to support a community poetry project. Can you say something about the result, Fire Thieves?

A:  Fire Thieves is a monthly reading series at different locations in the city, with two established poets, two mid-career poets, and two younger poets. It’s caused a lot of cross-generational communication, which is important. Everyone’s got a perspective.

Q:  How long does the laureateship last?

A:  It’s supposed to be two years at the outside, but June will mark my third year. And I have a prediction: I don’t think the poet laureate is going to be a [city] priority for a while. I love this gig. But the way we keep real diversity going in the arts is that people in positions like this switch out regularly.

Q:  How does your identity as a visual artist dovetail, or not, with your identity as a poet?

A:  Words, beads, assemblies of things that make a bigger image; it’s all related. Growing up in Noe Valley, I was one of Ruth Asawa’s students. I have a memory—I’m not sure if it’s true—but I have a memory of shaking Benny Bufano’s hand. I helped work on some of the [public art] around the city. There’s a perspective that comes from having been part of the early wave of hippie children: that art is really a possibility.

Q:  What would people be surprised to know about you?

A:  I’m really a big, big nerd. The hardest thing about this sheltering in place is that my sons have my video game machine where they live and I haven’t been able to go there.

Q:  You have said that all the things you do are just different ways of telling a story. What is the story that you hope we will tell about this terrible and amazing moment in history?

A:  Oh, wow. I hope that it ends up being a story about the value of human life, and the value of community, the importance of working together. We’ve been offered a really horrifying opportunity, but still an opportunity, to see what is possible. What does it look like when most people are seriously considering the well-being of one another?

Q:  With all your responsibilities, do you even have time to write poems?

A:  I write one a day. Though for a while I was managing one too many things. Effectively, I really need a nap.

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Excerpt from Quarantine Poem 36

Shelter in place where the place is

A stone in the river

Not a bridge

Not a refuge

And the city calls out

Community

Where are we in that death of a thousand cuts

Mythological creature

We are

Held together with running stitches and

A stone

Tossed as a wish into water

A spell

A stone

In the rapids

A toehold

 

—Kim Shuck (Facebook, April 21, 2020)

 

Photo by Douglas A. Salin

 

 

 

 

Do you have fond memories of a library you’ve visited? If so, you’ll relate to the following recollections from Mechanics’ Institute staff about libraries they’ve loved—and never, ever forgotten. (Scroll to the end for info on how to share your own story.)

 

From Pit Stop to Passion

My first real love for a library was by accident. Riding my bike to the local park and rec center in San Francisco during summer break, my mind was on meeting my friends to play on the playground. The library was more of a pit stop, where I used the restroom and water fountain before going back to the monkey bars. Then one afternoon I noticed that a librarian was giving out prizes. But there was a catch: you had to read books to receive those prizes. The librarians recommended fun books and taught me how to use the card catalog, and before I knew it, I was hooked. It was a place of sanctuary, a place that held magical texts that transported me to different worlds and opened my eyes to new possibilities.

—Cherilyn Banson, Library Assistant

 

Books and a Bunny

As a child, I remember riding my bike to the Alameda Free Library. The children's branch, behind the main library, was in an old house. I used to love to go there for story time and to browse the child-sized bookcases for books to check out. The librarian who read us stories had a pet rabbit named Peter Rabbit. She always took him out of his cage at the end of story time so we could pet him. We loved hearing the stories, but we also eagerly awaited the end when we'd get to pet Peter. I was hooked on libraries because of a rabbit.

—Deb Hunt, Library Director

 

Love Requited

This is not about me, but about my paternal grandmother. She reached the age of 87 living in the same small town (Sparta, New Jersey) for 57 years. On the 50th anniversary of the founding of Sparta’s public library, the librarians thought it would be nice to go through their records to find out who had maintained a library card for the longest period of time and give that person an award. They found that only one person had signed up for a library card the day the library opened, and then renewed it every year without fail: my grandmother. One of my cousins still has the little plaque they gave her. 

—Steven Dunlap, Head of Technical Services 

 

Fun in the ’50s 

The first library I ever used was the Sunset branch of the San Francisco Public Library. An Andrew Carnegie building, it was built in 1918 and replaced a previous structure, an old barn that was being used by boys for target practice. Since my elementary school did not have a library, I did my homework assignments in the children’s room of the Sunset branch. I thought the library was fun even before I started school, since my parents used the library a lot and brought me along with them. This was all back in the 1950s. Long before computers! I didn’t know then that I would go on to work in libraries, including San Francisco Public Library, for over 35 years.

—David Campbell, Library Assistant

 

Pre-Literate Perfection

I fell in love with libraries before I learned how to read. When I say libraries, I really mean the children's room in the Victorian-era public library in Concord, Massachusetts. One of my strongest early memories is sitting cross-legged on the gray industrial carpet in the children's room listening to a librarian (who in retrospect, I realize, bore a striking resemblance to Eleanor Roosevelt) read during story time. I was in heaven. Such a beautiful space! So many books! And people to read them to you. Even after moving on to doing my own reading, I have always found libraries to be one of my ideas of heaven.

—Lisa Braider, Library Assistant

 

Have your own library love story to share? Send your brief recollection (one paragraph maximum) to [email protected] by Tuesday, May 5, for possible inclusion in an upcoming blog. Please note that submissions may be edited.

 

 

On this, the 456th birthday of William Shakespeare, there’s no dearth of ways to celebrate the poet and playwright generally regarded as the greatest English-language writer ever (not to mention one of the most prolific). Following, a few suggestions to get the party started:

• Stream a free performance of Shakespeare's Globe production of Romeo and Juliet on YouTube.

• Post a tribute to Will on Twitter, Instagram, or Facebook with the #ShareYourShakespeare tag. (Thank you, Folger Shakespeare Library and Royal Shakespeare Company!)

• Pen a 14-line Shakespearean sonnet (from the Italian sonetto, or “little song”) to your sweetheart. (Couplet-composing skills a little rusty? Not to worry—WikiHow provides complete sonnet-writing instructions.)

• Shakespeare’s words were meant to be heard! Treat your ears to one of the many dramatic masterpieces available as e-audiobooks to Mechanics’ Institute members, including:

            Hamlet

             Henry V

            Julius Caesar

            King Lear

            Macbeth

            Othello

            Romeo and Juliet

            Twelfth Night

• Sample other writers’ perspectives on the Shakespearean world. Kathryn Harkup’s newly-released Death by Shakespeare: Snakebites, Stabbings and Broken Hearts and Bernard Cornwell’s historic novel Fools and Mortals, for example, are both available to MI members as ebooks.

• Seriously into Shakespeare? Join the public Facebook group of the Shakespeare 2020 Project, dedicated to reading and discussing his complete works this year. Party on, Bard buffs!

 

Without writers, there would be no libraries. On the other hand, without libraries to shape and shelter them, there would certainly be fewer writers. As the following quotations by well-known wordsmiths suggest, sometimes a little co-dependence can be a beautiful thing.

 

“When I got my library card, that’s when my life began.” —Rita Mae Brown

“The library is an arena of possibility, opening both a window into the soul and a door onto the world.” —Rita Dove

“Without libraries what have we? We have no past and no future.” —Ray Bradbury

“I have always imagined that Paradise will be a kind of library.” —Jorge Luis Borges

“The very existence of libraries affords the best evidence that we may yet have hope for the future of man.” —T.S. Eliot

“Libraries are the thin red line between civilization and barbarism.” —Neil Gaiman

“A library is infinity under a roof.” —Gail Carson Levine

“A library is not a luxury but one of the necessities of life.” —Henry Ward Beecher

“If you have a garden and a library, you have everything you need.” —Marcus Tullius Cicero

“When in doubt go to the library.” —J.K. Rowling

 

 

This weekend, Tom Hanks—the celebrated actor, short story author, and iconic nice guy—made light of his recent bout with coronavirus. He’s fully recovered now. But since his diagnosis, he quipped in a Saturday Night Live monologue recorded at his home, “I have been more like America’s dad than ever before. Since no one wants to be around me very long and I make people uncomfortable.”

As Hanks obviously knows, humor is a superb coping mechanism. A little levity not only lifts the spirits, but also, medical research suggests, can lead to better physical health. And sometimes topical humor à la Hanks really hits the spot, like an anesthetizing ointment slathered on a wound. Sometimes, though, we all need a reprieve from current events. If a bit of comedic escapism sounds like just the ticket right now, try one of these laugh-out-loud offerings from the Mechanics’ Library cyber-shelves:

I Remember Nothing and Other Reflections by Nora Ephron

Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by David Sedaris

Chelsea Chelsea Bang  Bang by Chelsea Handler

This Book Will Put You to Sleep by K. McCoy

Yes Please by Amy Poehler

The Best of the Harvard Lampoon: 140 Years of American Humor

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maybe you agree with T.S. Eliot that April is “the cruelest month.” Or maybe you’re inclined to a more hopeful perspective—April showers bring May flowers, right? Either way, though, here’s an indisputable fact about April: it’s National Poetry Month!

Launched by the Academy of American Poets in 1996, National Poetry Month is now, according to the Academy, the largest literary celebration in the world. Fortunately, it’s also one of the most flexible and free-form—no need to leave home to partake. A few good ways to celebrate:

• Sign up for a free poem-a-day email from the Academy of American Poets (Poets.Org Poem-A-Day) or the Poetry Foundation (Poetry Foundation Poem-A-Day).

• Start a family dinner or Zoom cocktail hour by sharing a poem aloud.

• Hang a few of your favorite verses from the branches of a tree or tape them to the bathroom mirror.

• Send a meaningful poem to a friend.

• Write a poem. Begin by describing a moment or an image that moves you, and see what comes to mind.

And don’t forget to check out the classics in the Mechanics’ Institute Library’s collection of eBooks and eAudiobooks—for example:

• Emily Dickinson: Poems and Letters Connect to RBdigital eAudiobook

• John Donne: Love Poems Connect to RBdigital eAudiobook

• The Sonnets by William Shakespeare Connect to RBdigital eAudiobook

And the not-so-classic:

• Confessions of a Poet Laureate by Charles Simic

• I Could Pee on This and Other Poems by Cats by Francesco Marciuliano

Enjoy your explorations!