65 Capp was built in 1979 by the late David Ireland, renowned San Francisco sculptor.
As his first architectural piece, the original 1904 single story structure was transformed
into his minimalist approach to maximum light and irregular angular structure.
65 Capp became “The Capp Street Project” in 1983, after philanthropist Anne Hatch
purchased the building. The Capp Street Project during the years of 1983-1990 hosted
a variety of installation artists who would stay in the building while they transformed
it for their ultimate project.
The Capp St. Project ultimately moved to a new location and the building was acquired
by Brett & Elizabeth in 1997. Since then, it has served as an Art Gallery, Artist
Studio Spaces, Recording Studio and Rehearsal Space, Video Production Studio and
SFBG - The Performant: TLC for the holidays
BY: Nicole Gluckstern
Try to ignore it as we might, the end of another year draws near, accompanied by
all its attendant solstice-cycle celebrations -- last ditch attempts to keep warm
perhaps. Well, spike the eggnog with everclear and pass the bacon-wrapped latkes,
in my book a little conviviality goes a long way in making bearable the quickly darkening
days, the applejack-crisp night air. Sure, shaking off the hibernation vibe can be
hard to do, but a good compromise between comatose and cabin crazy is to cuddle up
to nightlife’s cozier side: intimate venues, good company, low lights, warm interiors.
The Lost Church provides all of the above with its lushly-appointed “parlor performance”
space and a tight-knit crew of regulars who call the venue their artistic home, plus
homegrown music, a multi-media nod to vaudevillian theatre, and quiet cheer.
An ambitious TLC bill awaits the intrepid each Saturday night through December 17.
Actually, ambitious musical lineups abound on Thursdays, Fridays, and even one Sunday
(the 11th), but in December, Saturdays include a tongue-in-cheek, meta/metaphysical
musings of a brief one-act entitled “The Golden Goddess, Demon Dan, and the Doorway
to Darkness,” nestled in the center of the evening, the jelly in the sugar donut.
A brashly conniving demon (Dan C.) finds himself in literally the middle of nowhere
where an extremely bored goddess (the projected image of Jessica K.) is spending
her eternity guarding a doorway that no-one wants to open. No-one but Dan, that is,
and his persistent, flirty wheedling, rendered de facto charming by a wise-guy cockney
accent, gradually wears down the goddess’ resolve.
The battle-of-the-immortal-sexes dialogue is interspersed with snatches of Rolling
Stones songs (“Sympathy for the Devil,” “It’s All Over Now,” “The Last Time,”) provided
by a rock n’ roll “Greek Chorus” fronted by bodacious blues chanteuse Kim K., by
far the heavenliest presence on the stage.
Taking a page from the hootenanny handbook, the theatrical portion of the event is
bookended by an assortment of musical acts, a little something something for everyone.
Last weekend, the evening opened with Brian B. playing a variety of instruments including
a sultry slide guitar, an accordion, and the harmonica while singing a series of
introspective ballads which began on a blue note with a love lost and spiraled further
downward and outward encompassing junkyards, street corners, and a nod to St. Cecilia,
martyred patron saint of music. A quick flurry of rock songs from venue hosts Brett
and Elizabeth C. in their joint bass n’ drum incarnation as “Juanita and the Rabbit”
followed, and the post-show glow was further prolonged by more singing from the
divine Kim K.
... TLC has carefully crafted a tempting cocktail of home comfort blended with retro
cool and hot licks, all of which make it a great place to spend the holiday, or
See All Knows All by Kristin Farr
When Sonny Smith performs at David Ireland's house, you don't ask questions, you
buy tickets. The Lost Church is a super intimate performance space hidden inside
a house specially built by Ireland, the late, great conceptual art pioneer. This
is the venue for a new, experimental "thing" called Sees All Knows All, written and
performed by Sonny Smith with musical accompaniment. The four-night run has a different
opening act each evening, and the first performance featured a sweet, beachy set
by Alexi Glickman with Kacey Johansing on drums.
Sonny Smith took off his jacket and hopped up on stage like someone slipping into
a swimming pool -- a little apprehensive, but committed. As the story started to
flow, he sometimes looked down, avoiding eye contact as people do when sharing something
personal. Fiction and reality played opposing roles in the narrative which, as promised,
included "spaceships, romance, and bitter tears." These themes are not atypical of
Smith's writing, and he also mentions a fear of drowning, which came up when we interviewed
him for Gallery Crawl. Back then, in 2010, he'd just collaborated with many artists
to create records for one hundred fictional bands he'd dreamt up. This time around,
he similarly draws on strengths from a group of artists to make something new and
imaginative happen. The performance was remarkable because nobody was messing with
their phone, so I felt like a real jerk trying to take his picture the whole time.
Elizabeth Cline lives in the tin building on Capp St. designed by David Ireland in
1979. She and her husband run a performance space, The Lost Church, in the home.
She is also a tailor, a photo stylist's assist, a jewelry maker, and is in the band
Juanita and the Rabbit. I pulled up to the tin house tucked discreetly among the
regular homes. A blue van with a surfboard rack, a ladder scaling one side and monster
truck wheels was parked out front and I was told this is the band's touring van.
Upon entering the home all my preconceived notions of performance spaces in homes
were erased. This was not some punk rock warehouse littered with beer cans and a
precarious loft overhead. There was a small stage in the corner lined with white
lights installed along the bottom edge with a beautiful red velvet curtain, lovely
art adorned the walls, chairs were lined up nicely, the actual living space is hidden
behind closed doors -- this is the real deal, people. Upstairs was a curvy hallway/balcony
-- from one side, you could look out over the stage, and the other opened to a small
Q: How did you become a tailor?
"My mom taught me how to sew when I was a kid, I did not go to fashion school, I
went to college and took all the art classes I could take. I always made clothes
but then I moved to San Francisco and worked at a bridal shop. We did couture bridal
dresses so I learned to sew better, really perfected my skills. So then I started
my own clothing and jewelry line for about 5 years. And then quit that and started
doing on-set tailoring for photo shoots. I do this under the guise of Elizabeth Tailor.
It kind of all happened by accident."
Q: Why did you stop doing your clothing line?
"It just doesn't make any money, it was really hard and Oh!, I stopped because Brett,
my husband and I started a band and started touring the country. Our band is called
Juanita and the Rabbit and we describe it as punky-love-rock."
Q: I heard whisper that you've been making dresses out of napkins, what's up with
"So I shouldn't say this, but I started making them while I was at on set tailoring
jobs because i went to a job and the catering had these amazing napkins! I was like,
god that's cool, it looks like fabric. So the day wasn't busy... so I drew out a
little pattern and sewed it all together.