22 July 2007 - 7:23 pm

Busy Weekend 4:

Saturday I woke up with only one mission: Find the listing for the unveiling of a panorama I had read about.

I had read about some thing going on that was something that used to happen as a popular draw before movies were invented. A panorama painting would fill a room in the round, and usually had parts in 3 dimensions sticking out, and perhaps noises or lighting effects to enhance the experience. The one I read about was some mountainous thing, and Saturday night was the official unveiling. I knew it started at 7 pm and went until 10, this Saturday, and I think I even knew that it was perhaps near USC. But I couldn't find it by looking on the internet. Panorama revealed nothing useful for LA, as an event. I spent the morning looking for where had I seen it mentioned, the old media, printed newspapers. I had actually gotten Yvonne excited to go see it too, and promised to let her know more when I found out about it.

At noon I finally found it. Here's the blurb I saw, when reading the Downtown News (trying to bone up on what's interesting in my new neighborhood, which is only a couple miles up the street from University of Southern California (go Trojans!)):

"Drawing on the tradition of the popular 360-degree panorama paintings of the 18th and 19th centuries, the Velaslavsay Panorama, located in the historic Union Theatre, debuts 'Effulgence of the North' on Saturday, July 21, from 7-10 p.m. This vast painting envelops spectators in an icy world, complete with sound effects. An early relative to the motion picture, historic panoramas often include a three-dimensional faux terrain in the foreground to enhance the illusion - and Velaslavasay does not disappoint. The event features a panorama-themed presentation by author Erkki Huhtamo. At 1122 W. 24th St., (213) 746-2166 or panoramaonview.org."

Finally, a website where I could find more information about it! There would be music at the grand unveiling, a yodeler and an alphorn player (everytime I said alphorn to Yvonne, she heard it as either El Porn or Elk Horn), refreshments, an alpine backdrop for scenic photo-taking, the lecture by the author above, and a magic lantern show.

I was intrigued to go to see what excited the viewing public of the 19th century. I believe that we today are too expecting of being entertained, and not so much wanting to utilize our imaginations. We are over-stimulated visually and aurally. (Don't get me started about TV screens hawking to me at grocery stores, coffee shops, buses and gas stations, criminy!) So what would be a worthy entertainment of the 1800s, inducing crowds to come view the spectacle?

We were circling the blocks, looking for a parking spot, when a block away from our destination, there were cops and cop cars, and a paramedic truck sitting beside a church, and a body was laying on the sidewalk, covered with a white sheet. I saw it, made no comment, was just trying to avoid the police car sticking out into the road, and see if the road we wanted to turn down was blocked off as a result. Yvonne suddenly jumped and covered her mouth, crying there was a dead body on the sidewalk. I murmured yes and kept driving. She couldn't stop staring, and was obviously upset. We parked, several blocks away, and she made some comment about whether or not it was safe to park so far away, on a dead end.... it was the only parking spot I had seen I could legally fit in, and I was done looking. I looked at her and said we would be fine. I could see there were street lights, people lived in this neighborhood, were in their front yards, talking to their neighbors, it was a dead end because it abutted the freeway, no other reason. Not scary.

After we left the spectacle of the Panorama, the lecture and magic lantern show, the garden with refreshments (beer and pretzels) and photographic opportunities with costumes and a projection of the climbing of Mont Blanc playing continuously out back, Yvonne pronounced that the dead body was more interesting than what we had just seen. We walked back to the car, sitting quite visibly and securely under a street light, and drove away from the interesting neighborhood, and off we went to Hollywood, so I could procure my T-shirt pronouncing Zorro in Hell I had my heart set on from the night before. Then it was off to Westwood to the newly re-opened Barnes and Noble next to the new art house Landmark Theatre 12-plex in the Westside Pavilion. Barnes and Noble was for Yvonne to pick up her copy, specially reserved for her, of Harry Potter's last book.

She may have poo-pooed the evening's entertainment circa 19th century, but in the end she settled down with an even older entertainment, the book.

And as for the panorama itself, it was most like the settings you see in Natural History museums, depicting the habitat of the wolf, or Cro-Magnon man, or whatever. But this was icy cold, and you could hear the ice breaking, watch the aurora borealis shimmer, and the moon shine upon the clouds and ice. And instead of a natural history exhibit, here you were not merely looking at one wall showing it, but all walls, all surrounding you, and you could sit down to enjoy it and listen closely. In a way, it was rather a reverent space, in the manner of the Hudson River School artists, or Frederick Church, and the sublime beauty and awe inspiring sight of nature, a powerful force. I should like to see it again, alone, and truly surround myself in it.

As Yvonne put it, I was channeling my 19th century spirit. I even had an invitation to a party that night whose title was "The Age of Steam and Wonder - Regarding the Mechanized Exploits of the Adventurers at El Pueblo de Los Angeles: A Neo-Victorian Fantasy Ball and Steampunk Extravaganza."

Talk about channeling my 19th century spirit. I didn't go, but thought about it. It was mainly a question (as usual) of what to wear. I have the red corset, and ???? That's where I got stuck. It needed to be velvet and brocade and ornate, and high heeled leather boots with laces and that sort of thing. The age of steam and wonder, indeed.