C'est Mécanique!

In a tucked away spot on Pier 45 of San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf, there is a delightful museum of vintage music boxes, antique arcade machines, dioramas of circuses and carnivals, and a gypsy who will tell your fortune for fifty cents. Old-fashioned organ grinder music fills the space with haunting melodies. Combined with the salty smell of the bay, the wonders at Musée Mécanique transport you to a carnival of a different era- the only thing missing is the prizes and the cotton candy. They even have a miniature Ferris wheel.
Entry is free, but bring a pocket full of dimes and quarters if you want to operate the machines. There are little “theatres” that will show you an old-time execution for twenty-five cents. Kind of gruesome, but they’re only puppets. The dioramas are large and fantastic with twinkling lights, music, and moving parts; the whole scene will come to life. The overall effect is a little spooky, with the frightening laughs from “Laffing Sal” and all the mechanical noises in the air, but it just adds another element to the spectacle.
Of course, you don’t want to miss the belly dance peepshow. And for less than a quarter! Although, you should be aware that it’s a mini, puppet belly dancer that will be dancing in the box; if you want to see real thing, you’re going to have to work a lot harder than just depositing a few dimes into a coin slot.
By far, my favorite thing about Musée Mécanique is the music. As a tribal fusion belly dancer, I have a lot of freedom to step out of the bonds of traditional middle eastern music when I choreograph dance pieces. The result has been choreography done to rock, Balkan music, and 1930s jazz, to name a few. There are CDs for sale at Musée Mécanique that feature organ grinders, accordions, and other circus-like instruments. It makes me want to run away and join a circus, become a belly dance sideshow performer.
However, there isn’t much of a chance of that actually happening, and instead I’ll opt for surrounding myself with the mystique of Musée Mécanique. At least, for now.

*The story of how the museum began is a worthwhile read on its website: www.museemechanique.org

It's Polkapocalyptic!

One of the cool perks of being a traveling belly dancer is meeting and performing with musicians from all over the world. When I was in Berlin, I performed at the Phoney Island Cabaret with the Benka Boradovsky Bordello Band- a gypsy punk band from New Zealand. One thing led to another (as these things usually do), and I was asked to dance in their music video.

The name of the song? Polkapocalyptic. The theme for the video? Drunken gypsy party. With that combination, I thought mayhem would ensue. Would we actually get drunk for the video? Would there really be a polkapocalypse? And how gypsy were we talking? Because I'm pretty much your standard white girl.

However, my wild imagination was calmed upon entering the studio/house. We were shooting on a green screen, and would be shot one at a time. And there was no alcohol available (much to my dismay), so the drunkenness would only be pretend (as it turns out, I make a pretty good fake drunk).

Shooting on a green screen is a little bizarre. Green screens are BRIGHT green and kind of cushy. Meaning that my complexion looked horrible and my feet stuck to the floor. Not so flattering for a belly dancer.

Dancing to the music was a little awkward, too. First, I had to dance to the music at half tempo. And then at double tempo. And finally, at normal tempo. I liked double tempo the best. Nothing like getting your shimmy on!

Despite the awkwardness of the glaring lights, the green screen, and having to pretend I was surrounded by drunken gypsies, I pulled the whole thing off quite well. Everyone did. There were four other dancers who also performed: modern, contemporary, and free-style. As a belly dancer, I ended up being the most gypsy of them all- go figure.

The video was shot and produced by Sumone Productions and they did a fantastic job. The drunken gypsy bit is just a small part of the finished product; who would have thought that thirty seconds took four hours to shoot?

Wanna see the video for yourself? Check it out: polkapocalyptic but be prepared for an acid trip down the rabbit hole.

Naked Brunch

The other day I was sitting in my friend’s kitchen in Berlin, flipping through her copy of “The Return of the Naked Chef”. Have you read that book? So yummy- and I’m not just talking about the recipes. The Naked Chef (Jamie Oliver) is smoking hot, and has some great views on food to boot.
However, as I was reading his rant about why breakfast should be elevated to a more important meal status- “Instead of meetings over lunch or dinner, why not meetings over breakfast?”- and how hard it was to find a good breakfast buffet, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had been to Berlin. And if he had, then did he ever miss out.
The Naked Chef’s cookbooks promote recipes using the bare essentials and that strip down restaurant food. Sounds like a Berlin buffet to me- the simplest of foods, but oh so delicious. Berlin’s restaurants are all about the breakfast/brunch crowd. And we’re not talking about the scrambled eggs with some bacon and hash browns type breakfasts that are the standard in so many countries. No, we’re talking about the kind of breakfast the Naked Chef had in mind: fresh juices, self-composed mueslis, and homemade breads. Add to the list a variety of fresh cheeses, a dozen kinds of meat, rolls, jam, fruit, and eggs, and you’ve got the typical Berlin breakfast buffet.
Some restaurants even take breakfast a step further than the food. One restaurant in the Neukolln neighborhood has a small stage and offers a “jazz brunch” every Sunday. How nice to eat breakfast while listening to live jazz. Plus, a buffet in Berlin won’t break your budget. The “jazz brunch” is only 7.50 euros. And other restaurants offer buffets for as low as 3 euros. There may be a lot of artists in Berlin, but you can bet that none of them are starving.