Ojai: Talk of the Town

Natalie Krim is an established artist with a large following who recently moved to Ojai, just before the world went into lockdown. Her drawings are vivid and expressive, usually showing women in sensuous, flowing lines often in acts of self care. Slightly naughty, always fun - her drawings are a tonic for these strange times. We talk about how she found Ojai and made the decision to relocate here last November.

Vogue magazine, in a recent article, called her quarantine diary of her Ojai days "an ethereal study," and "a master class in calm, self care." 

We talk about the isolation artists feel during the best of times, working alone in their studios, and yet how, as social creatures, they crave connection. She is finding it by checking in daily with friends, and interacting on her popular instagram account, @nataliehjane, with more than 42,000 followers, and her website, nataliekrim.com. She is finding that sometimes artists need to step back from the demands of constantly creating, and to find moments to connect - with other art and artists, nature, and each other.

She shouted out  another artist as an inspiration, Cassi Namoda, one she stumbled across on her coronavirus journey. We also talk about Brian Wilson, Jane Fonda, Professor Auguste Theremin, the Chumash petroglyphs, and how she has makes large scale pieces. She talks about doing a huge piece for a gallery show at Aaron Rose's La Rosa Social Club and the importance of street art on a culture.

Speaking about social justice issues, Natalie said, "Our job is to reflect culture, it's not just about ourselves." That shows up in her pen-and-ink drawings of victims of police brutality.

We do not talk about Alexander the Great's siege of Tyre, John Lennon or 17th century theater critics.

Eric Goode knew that he had an amazing show on his hands with "Tiger King," the seven-episode documentary series about Joe Exotic, the gay polygamist zookeeper in Oklahoma who is now serving a 22-year sentence in federal prison for a murder-for-hire plot against his chief critic, animal activist Carole Baskin. The Netflix show's colorful cast of eccentrics helped the show capture the cultural moment. "We had a captive audience for a show about captive tigers," he said.

Goode has his own colorful past, which we explore in our wide-ranging talk. But it's his deep love for Ojai which informs much of his work.

The founder of the Ojai Turtle Conservancy, Goode is a globe-trotting conservationist with a keen interest in preserving and protecting endangered species, especially the turtles and tortoises. He spent a portion of his childhood roaming the Sespe backcountry, when his father Frederick taught at Thacher School. We talk about how turtles, which have been around more than 200 million years -  before dinosaurs entered the scene even - surviving apocalyptic events like meteor strikes and ice ages, are now up against their most formidable foe, a strange primate which evolved out of the Great Rift Valley less than 200,000 years ago, which now number 7.7 billion. Of the 350 or so turtle and tortoise species, half are endangered. We also talk about the southwestern pond turtle, native to Ojai's beautiful backcountry, was identified as a separate species in 2014, and how the Turtle Conservancy is working the Thacher School students for their science program.

Goode emphasizes the Ojai's incredible natural beauty is intact only because of generations of environmentalists and activists who have staved off existential threats like uranium mines and landfills. But the coast is far from clear as the Trump Administration opened the Carrizo Plain, the last intact San Joaquin Valley eco-system, to oil drilling. 

Goode says that this pandemic is a stark warning to mankind. When we intrude and disrupt wild places,  zoonotic pathogens, like Covid-19, make the jump to humans and kill millions.

We also talk about Goode's other artistic enterprises, including the club Area, a New York City hotspot that combined art with nightlife in an innovative way that created its own community of important artists like Keith Haring, Jean-Michel Basquait, Julian Schnabel and was mentored by the ever-evolving Andy Warhol. It was a time of amazing brilliance and creativity, and Goode was in the middle of it all. 

Goode and two partners have bought the Oaks at Ojai from the Cluff family, which has owned the 60-room hotel since the 1970s. Closed since the Thomas Fire in late 2017, the downtown community is eager to see the hotel restored to its former glory by these experienced hoteliers. Goode owns several hotels in New York City, including the well-known Bowery Hotel and the Waverly Inn.

Porch Gallery hosted the first gallery show opening over two days at the end of June with Shana Mabari's "Constellatio: Planeta: Stella" featuring the work of an artist who went into the stratosphere on a NASA mission with an enormous telescope to observe black holes, quasars and other astronomical phenomenon. The opening was spaced over two days and insured careful social distancing by limiting the number of people in the gallery at any one time. While waiting to enter, patrons could check out the six tables designed by seven local artists as a meditation on the age of social distancing, and what keeping a six-foot distance means for humans being together.

This exhibit will be up until July 18th.

Heather Stobo and Lisa Casoni opened their gallery nearly 10 years ago, and have shook up the arts scene with their inventive pairings and unexpected and inventive pairings. They have attracted acclaimed conceptual artists to Ojai, including big names like Gary Lang, Ruth Pastine, Andy Moses (son of Ed), Russell Crotty and many others. The two have been together for 20 years and as a couple each bring strengths that reinforce their various enterprises. 

We talk about how this exciting exhibit came together, how it felt to sit with it for the months that the gallery was shut and how gratifying it was to host the opening for an audience of people starved for art's meditative presence as well as basic human contact. The one-hour talk went all over the place, but mostly centered on the relationship of Ojai to art and its artists; how the art world may look coming out of  the pandemic, and how Los Angeles is an amazing place for creativity and culture.

We did not talk about taimen fishing in Mongolia, the works of Isaiah Berlin or this year's attenuated baseball season.

Correction: The painting "Nightwatch" was mentioned by the host. The painter was Rembrandt, not Van Gogh. Doh!

Andrew Bradigan, former Ojai resident (and the podcast host's son) lives and works in Nashville, TN as a sales manager for Postmates, the food delivery service. In early March, there were several confirmed cases of Covid19.  Postmates' 600 employees were moved out of the office and into quarantine, setting up their schedules and living situations to work from home.

However, it was too late for young Bradigan, who began suffering night sweats, muscle weakness and shortness of breath. This was especially hard for Andy, who is a fitness and nutrition enthusiast, and, at 6'5" and 215 pounds, is in peak physical condition. "I couldn't get a breath for the life of me," he said. The worst part, he said, was the relapses, where he would feel completely well, only to suffer a recurrence of the fever and night sweats. It took six to eight weeks before he completely recovered. 

His job mainly consists of talking with restaurant owners around the country to sign them up for the Postmates' service, learning about the varied responses to the pandemic, shifting to primarily takeout. He's also learned that the way restaurateurs have treated their employees has a direct impact on their ability to survive the crisis; as the ill-treated employees have taken advantage of the crisis to move on to better situations. 

Andy also has a "side hustle," developing an on-demand cleaning service app, called Dapper. Described as the Uber or Lyft for cleaning services, the app matches up people who need cleaning service - maybe to turn over a short-term rental, or to help with the aftermath of a raging party - with people who appreciate the flexibility and good pay of the gig economy. 

We talk about Luke Bryan, trout fishing on the Caney Fork river in central Tennessee, the steelhead fishery on the Cattaraugus Indian Reservation in western New York, as well as the Buffalo Bills' off-season draft moves. We do not talk about Simon Bolivar or either Ernest Shackleton or Hemingway.

Stacy Margolin Potter reached into the top ranks of pro tennis players during a golden age of women's tennis, along with Billie Jean King, Martina Navratilova, Chrissie Evert, reaching #18 in ranking. She shares with "Ojai: Talk of the Town" her deep love of, and long history with, Ojai where she won seven titles at the Ojai Valley Tennis Tournament, the world's oldest amateur tennis tournament. She tells a fun story about getting food poisoning during the tournament and still drawing upon inner reserves of strength and determination to triumph.

Growing up in Beverly Hills as a member of a tennis-loving family, Stacy joined the boy's team in high school to sharpen her preternatural skill at the game, bruising many men's egos. From there, she went to USC, leading their squad to a national championship, and on to the pro tour. During her five-year relationship with John McEnroe, Stacy inadvertently was an participant in an international incident at Wimbledon, in which McEnroe, enraged at the impertinence of the English press asking about her whereabouts, started a punch-up between the American press and English press. Retiring at age 26 from the tour, she moved to Ojai after a romantic vacation with future husband Ian Potter, the adventure guide, with rock climbing  and bicycling and honky-tonking at The Wheel. Next visit they went to Landucci's restaurant at Wheeler Hot Springs, building a store of memories. She began working at the Oaks at Ojai with fitness pioneer Sheila Cluff and tennis coach Helen Allen, teaching their famous immersive "tennis week," which drew people from all over the country. The Potters now own Trails by Potter, leading people on bike rides, rock climbs and tennis lessons around Ojai, guiding people into our gorgeous country.

Stacy returned to college after retiring from the tour, first getting her master's degree at Pepperdine, then taking up a paid internship at a recovery center, learning about addiction. That in turn led her into a career dealing with eating disorders, teaching a program called "Eating and Exercise Counseling." That led her to Institute of Integrated Nutrition, an online platform to "look at the whole person," which became the basis of her new enterprise, balanced eating & lifestyle coaching, which puts all the elements of her life together. She learned about 101 diet plans, trying many herself as a guinea pig. We conclude with a talk about finding, and staying, on your healthy path, and how Ojai makes it much easier than many places. For Stacy, it's not about shaming yourself for bad choices, it's about making good choices and letting the healthy feelings crowd out the unhealthy ones.

The film "Walk the Line" won Oscars for both its leads, Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon, as it chronicled a dark period in the Man in Black's life. The film doesn't mention Ojai by name, but he lived five years in the Ojai Valley, high above Casitas Springs. I spend an hour talking with the superb writer Mark Lewis about Cash's many Ojai stories, starting fires in the Sespe, drinking at the Inn, getting drunk with Sheb Woolley of "Purple People Eater" fame. 

Meanwhile, we unravel another strange strand of Ojai lore; about how Cash left the Ojai Valley to make the famous "Live at Folsom Prison" album in one of his comebacks that led to another wave of fame for the singer-songwriter. Unlike Cash, Earl Green was an authentic outlaw and murderer, who killed a man with a baseball bat in Ojai. Earl Green narrowly escaped death row and ended up becoming the Folsom prison DJ, where he reached out through prison minister Rev. Floyd Gressett, who, in another small-world turn, knew Johnny Cash as one of his parishioners at his Ventura church. And so Cash's comeback monster success took place, selling 3 million records and returning him to the spotlight. 

Earl Green's granddaughter knew nothing about her grandfather until she stumbled upon Mark's story about Cash in the Ojai Valley Museum, and was able to learn about his colorful past, rounding out the story.

Mark also talks about his taking over from Ilona Saari as the chair of the Ojai Art Center's Literary Branch. We bemoan the social distancing era, and how critical Ojai's sense of community is in our gathering. We also talk about how Eve Babitz makes the case that Los Angeles gives away nothing to New York in the sense of cultural achievement, in which she puts forth the Ojai Music Festival as "Exhibit A."

We do not talk about Jackie Robinson, Ed Ruscha or Russian slap fighting. 

The 74th Ojai Music Festival will still take place June 11 to June 14, but due to the pandemic, it will occur virtually as we learn from Ara Guzelimian, who takes over from Chad Smith as artistic director after this year's festival. Guzelimian is busy planning for the 75th anniversary festival for June 2021, with minimalist legend John Adams as music director, putting modern American composers in the spotlight. 

As for 2020's festival, he urges everyone to go OjaiFestival.Org to keep in the loop as there will be streaming events each day. Although the 74th Ojai Music Festival will have an asterisk next to it because of its virtual nature, a t-shirt, program book and other swag will be available, and could very well become collector's items. 

Guzelimian has been coming to the festival for more than 50 years, attending with his parents (second-generation refugees from the Armenian Genocide) from Los Angeles. He was the festival's artistic director for six years from 1992 to 1997. His day job is as dean of the Julliard School in Manhattan. at the Lincoln Center, with his nearest neighbors the Metropolitan Opera House and the New York Philharmonic. "But I live just outside the city, I need a few more trees and leaves than is available in mid-town Manhattan. He said between the pandemic and the protests, downtown is a city of "ghost canyons."  Despite the protests and "heart-wrenching anger and acts of violence," he says the way forward is get involved in service. "Are you feeling sorry for yourself? Go out and help someone," he said.

He's excited about 2021's festival. John Adams, next year's music director, "has occupied place in American life like Aaron Copland, the spirit of American music." Fittingly, Adams himself will turn 75 next year. We talk about favorite festival moments, such as a performance of John Luther Adams music staged by previous artistic director Tom Morris at Meditation Mount, in which strategically placed piccolos blended in seamlessly with the bird song. Or how Michio Uchida's performance of Schubert's Sonata in B flat on a hot afternoon transformed the audience with a mesmerising performance "that willed the heat away, and intensely inward collective experience." Another example was a Boulez-conducted performance of Schoenberg about moon madness in which, right on cue, a full moon rose up to hang heavy in the sky above "Libbey Bowl, a place where the wall between the audience and nature melts away ... there's something incredibly hospitable about the Ojai Valley that welcomes exploration, adventure and creativity."

To sum up the Ojai Music Festival, Guzelimian offers this: "Experience and discovery. If you could bottle that, that's the essence of the Ojai Music Festival." We also talk about Rains and Bart's Books, about Chumash sacred art, the Thomas Fire and the influence of Ghanaian drummers on Steve Reich. We indulge in the age-old East Coast v. West Coast cultural supremacy argument, coming down firmly on the West Coast/Best Coast side because of the "openness to the unexpected that comes from living on the edge" of the Pacific Rim.

We don't talk about Sandy Koufax, drop D guitar tuning or Barney's Beanery.

This episode, Nomi Morris, who teaches writing and journalism at University of California at Santa Barbara, talks about her experiences closing out the semester at UCSB, the challenges of teaching in a pandemic and how this cohort of 2020 students is being shortchanged of the personal interactions that are critical to a well-rounded education. To that point, she says the young people of today don't think about the future in the same optimistic terms as in the past. No one talks about making something for the 22nd century the way people once talked about the 21st century, "and that says something," Morris says.

We also talk about this tough economy and how many internships and summer jobs have been canceled, but she remains optimistic that having the ability to synthesize complex ideas into a readable format — the basic tenets of journalism training — is a skill that will always have value, even if traditional journalism jobs have nearly vanished. Critical thinking and evidence-based reasoning are important attributes for any job. She talks about how studies show that people with humanities degrees often outearn STEM grads, because of their entrepreneurial instincts and ability to express themselves with clarity and craftsmanship.

Nomi's fabulous career including covering Berlin for five years after the fall of the Berlin Wall for Time Magazine, CBC radio and the San Francisco Chronicle. It was an exciting time in a vibrant city. Nomi also worked for Knight Ridder (the largest in America at the time) in Jerusalem. 

We talk about the European model in which government invests in the arts, and the Canadian entertainment industry, of which the hit show, Schitt's Creek is just one recent example. We talk about growing up in the north, and hiding from our parents in the vast expanses of Toronto's much-missed department store Eaton's.

We talk about how important it is to teach students the basics of media literacy, and being able to evaluate sources. We also discuss how much smarter young people are then they used to be, giving us a hopeful note on which to end our wide-ranging discussion.

We don't talk about the last days of the Ottoman Empire, The 1975's new album or kitesurfing.