Author: David Gorsline

At the park: 22

farther downstreamWe mustered out this morning to do some finish work on a stream restoration project at Huntley Meadows Park, under the direction of Park Manager Kevin Munroe. The watercourse is East Barnyard Run, which is thought to rise from a spring near the park boundary. Nonetheless, it also drains nearby subdivisions and flows downstream into the main wetland of the park. The streambed is almost fenceline-straight; perhaps it follows the path of an old drainage ditch. In any case, the objective of the restoration project, performed by contractors, is to add some obstacles to the water to calm its flow: an old log, a vein of small boulders, a little island to make a traffic circle.

plantingOur work was to finish some shrub plantings that had been started a couple of weeks ago: elderberry, buttonbush, Viburnum species including Arrowwood (Viburnum dentatum) and Blackhaw (V. prunifolium). Last time out we also planted plugs of Virginia Wildrye (Elymus virginicus), a member of the grasses, and some asters, as I remember. The point of the plantings is to establish a root system to hold the clay of the streambed in place, lest it wash downstream as silt, choking the crayfish and other watery denizens of the marsh.

tree protectorsMuch of today’s work was installing anti-deer tree protectors around our shrub plantings. Rather than the familiar plastic tubes, we used a biodegradable gadget made of thin stakes (of cedar?) lashed together and closed around the stem with a bead-and-loop gizmo. It’s sort of like macramé for naturalists. None of what we planted is taller than the protectors yet, so what you see now in the photo is just a grove of stakes. We also surrounded each shrub with a ring of matting to discourage competing plant life.

The island of stakes is easy to find: from just north of the main parking lot, follow the sanitary sewer easement northwest about 150m to the stream, then go downstream about 50m. I will check back in the spring to see what has leafed out.

Boom

How did we get here? How we know for sure? And most importantly, how do we tell the story of how we got here? These are the questions explored in Peter Sinn Nachtrieb’s thought-provoking Boom, a highly theatrical science-fiction riff on one culture’s creation story.

Thomas Kamm’s set design for the show does its darnedest to treat Woolly Mammoth’s proscenium-shaped space like a black box. A basement biology research lab with attached living quarters is pushed forward into the auditorium, removing the first three rows of seats; while an upper-level playing space is extended to wrap around to the balcony seating: the effect is a little like the bowl of an operating theater.

In the lab, mysteriously fortified like a bunker, Jules (ever-endearing Aubrey Deeker) and Jo (tough chick Kimberly Gilbert) meet up for a few drinks and some premeditated casual sex—or perhaps the poorly socialized marine biologist Jules has other plans for the two of them. Deeker finds a way to reveal Jules’s unique geekiness without sliding into stereotype. The action is punctuated by loud Kubrickian movie music and louder timpani rolls from Barbara (infra-manic Sarah Marshall), up in the gallery. Jules and Jo don’t seem to be aware of her, although Jo gets a migraine every time Barbara hits the drums, but Barbara seems to be following their story as if she were reading a score.

When disaster strikes, Jules is prepared, more or less; Jo lodges herself somewhere between the denial and anger stages of grief; and Barbara seems to have it all under control.

The piece has some lyrical, positive moments. Jules explains that “biology is optimistic” (somehow I feel like I’ve heard that somewhere before) and that even mass extinctions result in the favorable outcome of new life: the radiation of the mammals from shrews, for instance. And there are some quite funny bits: we all loved the story of the “Halliburton Shale.”

Are there gaps in the narrative? Perhaps. Does the quality of Jules and Jo’s sexual history make sense? Not really. But then there are “gaps in the fossil record,” too.

It all comes unravelled in the end, of course. Jules holds the keys to new life, but doesn’t know it. And as for Barbara, well, imagine Zardoz in charge of the Creation Museum.

  • Boom, by Peter Sinn Nachtrieb, directed by John Vreeke, Woolly Mammoth Theatre Company, Washington

Field trip

Then she happened across a large tunnel burrowed into the side of a wave. “Oh my God!” she cried. “A groundhog hole!”

…Ms. Lin laughed and then paused, reflecting, “I think we’ll cover it up?” But within moments she had changed her mind. “I think you have to let it be what it’s going to be,” she said.

Maya Lin visits her earthwork Wave Field, to be opened to the public at Storm King Art Center next spring.

Doctor Atomic

So what do you get for your $23 ticket to The Met: Live in HD? Well, the food court at Tysons Corner Center doesn’t have the cachet of the plaza at Lincoln Center. Twenty-three bucks doesn’t get you a reserved seat in this almost-full medium-sized auditorium in the AMC Tysons Corner 16, and the program is a simple one-sheet affair. The subtitles are onscreen, not in the chair backs, and the AMC’s technical execution was only serviceable, not flawless (the image was not framed properly for a few minutes; sound and lights came up and down with peculiar timing). But you do get the opportunity to munch popcorn in your seat (a few of us indulged). And the proceedings are framed by backstage patter: it’s awful darn cool to get to hear the SM pass the “maestro to the pit, please” call.

What you do get is a good taste of something like the live experience, and in the case of this electrifying production about the first atomic bomb test at the Trinity site in New Mexico, under the scientific direction of J. Robert Oppenheimer, that’s something special.

Julian Crouch’s set makes the first impact. Projected on a scrim is the periodic table of the elements known at that time, quaintly missing Francium and Technetium and stopping at Plutonium. The scrim is pulled to reveal a three-level set for the chorus: the effect is of pigeonholes in a rolltop desk, or a warren of office cubicles. The stage is abuzz with activity as preparations for the bomb test are being made.

In the second scene, Sasha Cooke as Kitty Oppenheimer sings a lush, intimate “Am I in your light?” to her husband Robert. The act closes with a powerful “Batter my heart, three-person’d God” from Oppenheimer, sung by Gerald Finley of the piercing, haunted blue eyes.

John Adams is known for his choruses, and the second-act “At the sight of this, your Shape stupendous” is a stunner, as the atomic energy workers react to a vision of Vishnu in the skies. The put-upon meteorologist Frank Hubbard (Earle Patriarco) reports that weather conditions have finally cleared, and the test is on. The penultimate moments of the opera, as the atomic explosion ignites an era, perhaps carry more effect in the actual theater.

Generally, the multi-camera work is unobtrusive (the Met has been televising live performances effectively for years, of course) and follows the action, mixing long shots (a four-shot of Oppenheimer, Kitty, her shadow, and his gigantic one is well-framed) and extreme closeups—pans, zooms, and tilts up from the vantage point of the pit. Once in a while the lighting and exposure levels for Ms. Cooke wash her out.

Which leads me to the following question: do Met performers adjust their makeup when they’re being televised? What I saw looked natural in closeup, so I wonder how it plays in the upper reaches of the balconies.

And where can we score some of those great prop cigarettes? Oppenheimer and Kitty were rarely without one, and the cool thing about the prop is that you can take a drag from it and get a little puff of smoke.

  • Doctor Atomic, composed by John Adams, libretto by Peter Sellars, conducted by Alan Gilbert, directed by Penny Woolcock, Metropolitan Opera, New York/HD Live

5-second rule

As reported by Irby Lovette for Living Bird, research by Tomohiro Kuwae et al. provides evidence that Western Sandpipers (Calidris mauri) take a substantial portion of their diet from the biofilm that forms on tidal mudflats. Studying birds during spring migration in the Fraser River estuary in British Columbia, the authors back up their findings with high-speed video and analysis of stomach contents. In addition to the known diet of these beach foragers—macroinvertebrates such as polychaetes, molluscs, crustaceans, and insects—the gooey millimeter-thin layer of “microbes, organic detritus, and sediment in a mucilaginous matrix of extracellular polymeric substances together with non-carbohydate components secreted by microphytobenthos and benthic bacteria” provides up to 50% of the bird’s energy requirements, according to Kuwae and fellow scientists. They also cite previous research that the bill and tongue structure of the Dunlin (Calidris alpina) would also be suitable for biofilm grazing.

Some links: 30

Jonathon D. Colman in his column Everyday Environmentalist posts a richly-linked article on shopping for sustainable coffee (unfortunately, a couple of the links are broken already). He makes the connection—noteworthy if perhaps obvious on a moment’s reflection—between climate change and the deforestation associated with sun coffee.

I voted

There’s something to be said for going to the polls in the middle of the day. I was in and out in ten minutes, even with a stop to talk to Vivien. My precinct was offering the choice of machine or paper ballots. I went with the high-tech option.

Fixing a missing connection

Steve Offutt road-tests the “invisible tunnel” connection between Farragut West and Farragut North:

The technology exists to allow Metro riders to transfer between the two Farragut stations and treat them as though they were transferring within the system. Metro should implement this idea immediately, since there is no downside, many riders will save time, and congestion at Metro Center will be reduced.

* * *

I took a stopwatch with me to see how long it would take. For the initial trip I reached the top of the escalator at exactly the wrong time to cross I St. and had to wait the full light cycle. I waited about 25 seconds to cross K St. I was standing on the platform at Farragut North 5′ 13″; after the doors opened on my train at Farragut West. On the return trip I arrived on the street during the walk signal at K St. but had to wait about 20 seconds at I St. I was on the platform 4′ 10″; from the time the train doors opened at Farragut North.

Makes sense to me. I’ve performed that transfer myself once or twice when I knew that there would be excessive congestion at Metro Center. It would be nice to save the extra base fare.

Of course, this doesn’t work so well during off hours when the eastern Farragut West station entrance is closed.

A choice

The Economist endorses Barack Obama for President:

There is no getting around the fact that Mr Obama’s résumé is thin for the world’s biggest job. But the exceptionally assured way in which he has run his campaign is a considerable comfort. It is not just that he has more than held his own against Mr McCain in the debates. A man who started with no money and few supporters has out-thought, out-organised and outfought the two mightiest machines in American politics—the Clintons and the conservative right.