More than five years ago, we lived in a “penthouse” apartment that overlooked this tree from nearly a block away. You could not miss it. You could not turn away. Its color is otherworldly among the beige and brown stucco buildings.
After the splendid jacaranda trees drop their lavender flowers, this one, and more like it in hidden courtyards behind drab walls, spring to life.
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Read the latest on FASMA 2025 here.
The third edition of the San Miguel de Allende Festival of the Arts (FASMA2025) is coming in August and will offer more than 100 events from scores of local arts and culture organizations. Music, theater, opera, film, dance, literary and plastic arts programs will be presented in many of San Miguel’s finest venues, Aug. 1-17.
Individually, these are the kinds of events for which this city is famous around the world.
Collectively, this is an opportunity for San Miguelians to sample the many lively, beautiful, and inspiring performance programs that make up the fabric of this community.
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It was such a relief last week to learn that my old friend Bob Gannon crashed his 56-year-old Cessna 182 just outside of Las Vegas.
Of course, he walked away from the crash. The plane wasn’t called Lucky Lady Too for nothing.
Let me interject that I am simply relieved to know that Bob is still alive. And flying. I confess that I periodically check the news for recent Bob Gannon and Lady Too exploits — or an obituary. I haven’t found either in years.
Both to my distress and relief.
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The celebration of the Resurrection of Christ on Saturday night at the Parroquia de San Antonio de Padua in Colonia San Antonio was incredibly moving. Worshipers filled the plaza to overflowing. They stood and prayed for hours during the Easter Vigil as the life and death of Jesus Christ was recounted from the altar.
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Update: The wall of masks has been sold to a lovely couple here in San Miguel. He very quickly offered to buy them all to augment his own collection. Thank you to everyone who expressed an interest in the entire collection or in individual masks. You are all appreciated!
In another life, Rose Alcantara traveled the world, settled in The Gambia for a couple of years, and eventually returned to California to raise two beautiful children.
Along the way, between 1978 and 1992, she collected masks, the way other people collect souvenirs.
Well, not really the same way. Souvenirs are mass-produced. She looked mostly for one-of-a-kind creations from the original artists.
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Hi! And welcome back to the popular shame game “So You Think You Can Rant?” where it’s your words against the troll-a-verse! I’m your host, Seymour Bittame!
For those of you who haven’t played before, the rules are simple:
A scenario pulled from a real social media post will be put up on the screen and our four panelists will have one minute to respond to it in the worst possible ways imaginable. Oh, yes, without violating FCC rules on taste and profanity.
Audience laughs.
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In front of the Parroquia de San Miguel Arc Angel — all day Friday for the feast day of Señor de La Conquista — hundreds of brightly costumed dancers express the most joyous form of worship imaginable.
And exhausting.
Long before noon, it was hot out there. Really hot. I’ve never seen headdresses come off so quickly and water get consumed so rapidly as today. Can you blame them?
But always there were smiles.
So, what’s this all about?
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The theme of Michael Hoppé’s annual San Miguel de Allende concert on Wednesday night was “Together!” And, indeed, even inside the expansive and nearly full Teatro Angela Peralta, it was a cozy affair.
That was largely due to the artist’s engaging reminisces between each of the 21 compositions that were performed and the music itself which is endlessly appealing on so many emotional levels.
But Hoppé had a subtitle to offer: Encouragement. You could see it in the five talented musicians who took turns performing with the maestro and in his own recollections on the trajectory of his career.
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A countertenor knocks your socks off, every time. Because you don’t see it coming.
The fellow is moving along in the sweet clarity of a tenor through a lovely piece of music, something about love lost and regret, let’s say. You’re feeling it. Because the singing matches the lyrics and matches the emotions. On the edge of crying, let’s say.
Suddenly the singer veers upward into a celestial aural region that you were in no way expecting – up where the emotions and sensations are usually reserved for the pure of heart. For angels and their earthly equals.
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A lot of people say to me, “Bob, I have this really annoying friend. Annoying, but not so bad that I want to kill him. Is there anything a passive-aggressive person like myself can do about this situation?”
My first instinct is to say, “My friend, you’ve come to the right place. Have you ever considered gifting them a puppy?
I don’t say that, however.
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Musings, Magic, San Miguel and More 