|Courtesy 42nd Street Moon Photo DavidAllenStudio.com|
You may have guessed by now that I was once again on my way to San Francisco last Sunday, to witness yet another performance of the splendid company 42nd Street Moon. And you would have guessed right, at least those of you who remember my blog post All the Things You Are. I begin to realize that I am more and more drawn into a new nostalgic undertaking, being nostalgic about the nostalgy, so to speak, by reliving experiences from only two years ago. Where will this end, will I eventually get nostalgic about things I experienced only yesterday?
Be that as it may, with the show starting at 3 pm, I took BART early on, so as to shove in some serious photographing before the play. Eureka Theatre, the venue of the performance, lies smack in the middle of San Francisco's Commercial District, with all its high risers, and I wanted to catch at least some of them on my little toy camera. Debarking at Embarcadero Station (sounds funny, doesn't it?) there was half an hour's walk to the theatre, which is located on Jackson Street. Ambling along Davis Street in that general direction, with my eyes in the sky, something strange suddenly caught my attention at street level. An unexpected green light shone from my right, as if emanating from a salt sea aquarium illuminated from below with a green spotlight.
This I just had to investigate further. Getting closer, the whole arrangement looked more like a staircase leading straight to a gardener's heaven. I ran up the stairs to see what this was all about and, to my surprise, stepped out onto a wide expanse of a promenade, one floor removed from the street level. You could walk several blocks here above the fray, with bridges spanning the streets in between and there were restaurants aplenty to sample for the hungry wanderer. Even a movie theatre was placed on this unusual platform, called Embarcadero Center.
But that was not all. My favorite among the sky-scrapers in San Francisco is the Transamerica Pyramid, a needlelike shape as made for sticking holes in the always present clouds of this elegant city. Even if I have some views of this pyramid on film (in the book as well), I was still looking for the picture that puts the needle against an appropriate foreground. And, lo and behold, suddenly all elements of an elegant view clicked into place and I had only to push the button. Of course, as photographer you are never satisfied, always looking for a better view waiting around the corner; but I have to admit that I am rather pleased with this one.