Black and White Ball Remains A Perennial San Francisco Treat
by Bruce Bellingham
from the archive of the Marina Times, 21 June, 2005
San Francisco's biennial Black and White Ball is a fixed point in an ever-changing world. Even if the Big Quake shakes the city to its foundations during June on an appointed year, there would likely be a way to put on the Black and White as scheduled, hell or high water -- though it might be the Black and White Bouncing Ball. The hard-driven organizers are that determined to let nothing slow them down. They use lots of tents anyway. In the event of a tsunami, maybe they'd construct rafts, too. It's unclear if Ball chairman Patricia Sprincin has considered any of this. She seemed too busy for us to pester her so we didn't ask.
This year the event drew about 10,000 partygoers. "That's about 2,000 more than the last time around," said Jon Finck, of Encore Productions. It cost about $200 a ticket -- unless you were between 21 and 30 years old. They knock 40-bucks off for the kids. It's sort of a reverse senior discount.
"They need to do things like that," said Mandana, a Pacific Heights hair stylist. "It's like the old Hollywood. The old social register types are fading away. There was a lot more elegance in the past."
The nostalgia was evident in the selection of musicians who entertained. For punks of all ages, the Violent Femmes tore it up. The group, Train, went roaring through. It seems that inviting The Village People to San Francisco is like carrying coals to Newcastle but they were certainly on friendly territory.
"I think the Village People are a little burned out," observed Sandra Stolz, a fine arts representative. "Then again, I guess we all are." But it was early yet. Most people consider the Village People harmless fun and that suited the mood of the evening. For those of us who can recall the 70s when the Village People were disco royalty -- that is, those who had to pay the full $200 for a ticket -- we got a chance to laugh at ourselves and the folly of our feverish youth.
At 9:30 p.m. Mayor Gavin Newsom officially opened the ceremonies on the City Hall steps as a curiously cartoonish light show began. The crowd scrutinized the Mayor's invisible date.
"I wish I had brought long gloves," sighed Sheila Von Driska, the graphic designer, who looked great without her gloves. "It wasn't until Patti La Belle came on that I decided I was happy I went. The event is just too big to meet people and really enjoy it."
The Mother of All Block Parties is bound to bewilder. It is sensory overload. "I had to leave early," said Maurice Kanbar, San Francisco's famed inventor and philanthropist. "It gets to be a bit too much."
Von Driska said she felt as if she were on another planet, in the middle of San Francisco. "Waiting in line for a cocktail, while dressed to the nines seems odd. Beer and bad red and white wine also didn't do it for me. If one is going to have a black & white ball, it needs to be accompanied by matching fare, or at least caviar and champagne. Not Krispy Kremes. But, the Patti LaBelle concert gave me chills. I've always loved her and I loved how she gave the mike to one of her backup singers. I loved how genuine she is."
Sandra Stolz was also impressed by LaBelle's generosity on stage toward her musicians but was a little unsettled by LaBelle's strange moods. There was hard-driving, ecstatic rhythm and blues but a touch of melancholic religious fervor was also tossed into the mix. It was almost riveting -- like watching snake-handling. With an intermittent patter about her long marriage and eight-year old divorce ("Just get rid of that man," she admonished the women in the audience), a plea for brotherly love and "bring the troops home," LaBelle finally sang a teary, histrionic version of "The Lord's Prayer" to a slightly nervous crwod. She seemed to be possessed by some sort of trance. Yes, slain in the spirit. It made for an interesting but hardly get-down-and-party performance. "It's all part of the show, folks." Aimee Semple MacPherson meets Etta James. But the Black and White includes so many wild mixtures. On that point, the bartenders were working at a breakneck pace as if Prohibition was returning at midnight.
Minnie Driver brought her retro-sixites folk rock band along and seemed to have a helluva good time tearing into the songs. The show and the food -- prepared by McCall Associates -- were a big hit at the Asian Art Museum where the Contemporary Jazz Orchestra Trio brought a sweet sophistication to a classy venue. The Indian food was terrific.
Mercedes-Benz was the main corporate sponsor and drivers transported guests around the Civic Center, if their feet were getting tired. It would be nice if they could do that for pedestrians all the time.
"This is our first time here," exclaimed a delighted Dr. David Agard, a bio-physicist at UCSF, over the din at City Hall, where players from the San Francisco Symphony with Michael Tilson Thomas were performing. "We are so pleased we came tonight." Nodding in agreement were his wife, Dr. Lisa McConlogue, and their friends, Stacia Topping and Lara Medanich.
The San Francisco Symphony's first Black and White Ball, under the guidance of Mrs. John H. Upton, predates the famous bash that Truman Capote hosted at New York's Plaza Hotel by ten years. Capote later said, "I invited 500 friends and made 15,000 enemies." The New York soiree in 1966 was described as "The Party of the Century." San Francisco has been partying since Sir Francis Drake and his crew dropped anchor and convinced the Miwok Indians to teach them how to fire up barbecued oysters.
By midnight, the spirits of the revelers were cooling a bit. Under a clear sky, with actual stars on a June night, if you can imagine, the gentlemen began the Black and White Ball end-of-the-evening ritual: to pick up their wilting dates with their throbbing feet and carry these beautiful, exhausted casualties -- with their new shoes clutched in their hands -- to the car, the taxi or the bus for that ride home to reality in the wee hours.
"Did you have a good time?" you could hear murmured as the couples shuffled by. "Hmmm." After all these years, one would be hard-pressed to recall anyone ever saying they were sorry they went to the Black and White Ball.
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