DIARY: That Art & Soul Festival In Oakland, California

The last time I was in the Bay Area, I did not pay much attention to the goings on, particularly Oakland from around which I hadn't been anywhere in the city for quite some time. It had been in and out, business as usual, so, not much to talk about in that regard. But this time around, a whole lot turned out differently. I wasn't aware of the turn around of things in downtown Oakland and for not to have checked in for a while, I was impressed. The city changed, indeed!

The raggedy, skid row, home of the Black Panthers and the classless sleep on your door step, ghetto-crawling neigborhood is no longer what it used to be. Oakland is totally transformed, and thanks to Jerry Brown who as Mayor of Oakland saw the necessary steps required to making things happen for folks long abandoned. The story of Oakland and its overnight transformation is overwhelming.

As it happened, the 9th Annual Arts & Soul Festival in Oakland had to be my calling since I have not seen the city in many years, and besides, each time I pop up in the Bay Area, Oakland never crossed my mind for I had thought of where it's jamming -- San Francisco, San Jose, Berkeley, Saratoga, Stockton, Santa Rosa, the farming-vineyards of Sonoma County coupled with other big recreational neigborhoods in the Bay Area, of the Woodstock and Coachella type -- for the groove and all that stuff.

But nevertheless, this time around, there was an event and I had to be focused to see how it unfolds. Quite fascinating.

August 14: I arrived Oakland and checked into the Ambassador Hotel on the corner of Franklin and 13th Street. A little bit tired, I made some calls to see who is around town. Not much, though, and for Friday night, I couldn't figure out what's it I was going to do before the festival kicks out the next day. I decided to go to bed and get some rest. No, I did not go to bed immediately; I popped up the news networks to see what's happening in my neck of the woods and what the Republican airheads are talking about.

However, it turned out to be the same old song -- the mud-slinging so-called conservatives who only think for themselves and how to protect their ill-gotten wealth negating the fact that under any circumstances in a democratic fabric, that there are people, underprivileged, who will always need help of some sort to overcome their predicament. It is natural and the Republicans and the newly coined Blue Dog Democrats, whatever that is, don't seem to realize and unfortunately they are not getting it. I still don't get it myself and I am not going to be part of a debate that does not make sense at all in a situation a desperately dying fellow should be allowed to die on the grounds of having no medical coverage.

What are we talking about here?

An organized society?

Well, since politics, they say, makes strange bed-fellows, let's believe in the rule of law, upholding and respecting democracy; and hopefully the Republican airheads would come to terms with reality and do the right thing. Cable News Network and all that news-related channels, including Fox, had become a bore.

August 15: I got up fresh and ready like Freddy for the festival. There wasn't much happening on the streets of the high-towered downtown Oakland when I peeped through the window of my hotel room.

At 10:45 AM, I was already on Broadway and 14th Street checking out the vendors, the area's local press and patrons who had showed up with delight for the festival's 9th year anniversary. The streets and sidewalks had already been flooded with the four stages ready to explode with performances of the day. On the stage at 12th and Clay, Loquet, BoDeans and Grammy Award winning artist, Shawn Colvin, were scheduled to perform. The stage in front of Oakland City Hall scheduled Abby and the Pipsqueaks, Jump Street and some local voices. The stage on 12th and Broadway had a Gospel showcase presented by Edwin Hawkins and the Community of Unity featuring Bishop Walter L. Hawkins of the Love Center Choir, Terrence Kelly and the Oakland Interfaith Choir,Sharon Wynn Davison, Sunny Hawkins and the Music Department, Men of Edurance, Derrick Hall and Company, while on 12th and Jefferson it was an all out jazz enssemble. The crowd was awesome and with summer almost winding down the vendors and organizers did the best they could to go with the flow especially in a 'slowmo' economy.

I walked around the four points of the festival and bumped into an artist whose booth had displayed all her finest works with the husband setting up the gallery. We chatted for a moment before the festival rose for the day. She was optimistic the festival "will eventually" be one of the big shows to be talked about in the near future despite its 9th-year of existence. I strolled down to the Oakland Convention Center on Broadway and 14th Street which is about 12 minutes away from the Oakland International Airport. Going inside the Convention Center sits Oakland China Town, The Preservation Park and some shopping complexes. A few short blocks took me to the Waterfront, Jack London Square and the Paramount Theatre which also is blocks away from my hotel room.

At about 7:45 PM, I checked back to my room for some rest before my buddy, South African-born, Berkeley-based sports freak, Johnson Boipelo Andile, comes around for some crazy sports talk and all that follows in a night of showdowns and pub-crawling. Andile had arrived late and we still hanged out anyway, talking about boxing which turned out to be his favorite sports, and he is really crazy about it going back to the heydays when boxing was real and very entertaining.

He talked about how boxing "is" no longer what it used to be and that all the fuss about Dominican Republic born undefeated Fernando Guerrero who now fights out of Salisbury, Maryland, is being overrated towards his upcoming fight August 29, when he meets Louis Turner in the middleweight division at Fitzgerald's Casino in Tunica, Mississippi. I'm not sure if I have been following up nowadays in what's been going on in boxing ever since it was commercialized nobody takes the sport seriously anymore. I had no idea who Gurrero was until he popped it up and on a critical note, he agreed with me "boxing ain't longer what it used to be."

We had talked extensively about the good-old days of boxing when all division were powerhouses. The days of Jeff Chandler, Azumah Nelson, Roberto Duran, Mustafa Hamsho, Salvador Sanchez, Eddie Mustapha Muhammad, Mathew Saad Muhammad, Dwight Braxton, Cornelius Boza Edwards, Michael Spinks, Sugar Ray Leonard-Thomas "Hitman" Hearns' "The Showdown," Marvellous Marvin Hagle-John "The Beast" Mugabi duel, Larry Holmes-Gerry Cooney race war, Muhammad Ali, Joe Frazier, George Foreman, Ken Norton, Ernie Shavers and numerous other superb pugilists of the day.

After all these talks on boxing greats over some drinks at the hotel lobby, we drove out on San Pablo running through University Avenue where it meets Oxford at UC Bekeley. We found a spot, a bar and hangout, kind of, continuing our discourses on boxing retrieving "The Spinks Jinx," "Thriller in Manila," "Rumble in the Jungle," "Aaron Pryor-Alexis Arguello 1 & 2," and things like that related to boxing of the profound era when boxing had class.

August 16: It's been fun all over the previous day and I'm already up to deal with the happenings around downtown Oakland. The show continued with style and the performances were all great. Smooth jazz artist Bobby Caldwell had played and the crowd he had pulled was unbelievable. A night of jazz. The two day festival reached its climax.

August 17: I had traveled to Concord meeting Emmanuel Onyeador at his friend's ranch and vineyard. We talked more over some fine wine. David Iphie who lives in Pittsburg had stopped by to join us. Iphie picked Onyeador and myself and we drove to his house in the embrace of his wife and uncle, UC Davis trained agronomist, Humphrey Ezuma, who was visiting the shores of this land for a moment. The usual local politics popped up which I will be writing about in a different essay, while Iphie's wife prepared a delicious ofe olugbo, bitter leaf soup with varieties of meat and dried fish. We talked more and I enjoyed the company.

August 18: Back to the crazy-dubby Los Angeles-Hollywood where every 'damn' soul is really freaking out, and business as usual, I guess. It was indeed a trip to remember, and Oakland, for your excellence in the arts, I think I would like to visit again.

A Beautiful Holiday Weekend In Los Angeles

About a couple of weeks ago, a friend of mine had talked me into going to the Bay area to watch Stephen Bishop perform at the Intramuros, South San Francisco, in a benefit concert. She had wanted to see the concert so bad. I had been preoccupied in Los Angeles. She wants to play a role in the concert for worthy causes. For the concert, and about our friendship, we are a study of compare and contrast.

She's into old-school -- the Norman Whitfield/Barrett Strong and Kenneth Gamble/Leon Huff composition-era. I'm into all vibes, a musicologist. She's a hardcore liberal; garrulous. I'm reserved, a somehow liberal conservative; a centrist. She's a fashion freak. I'm careless, fashionwise. She reads fiction and believes in the Zodiac signs. I'm the non-fiction reader kinda guy and have no faith in astrology. She's Libra. I'm Virgo. She cooks good. I'm a mixologist. She has shoulder length curly hair. I'm ishi nkwocha, shaved bald. She's Tonga, a Pacific Islander. I'm Igbo, an African. She's straight. I'm straight. She loves outdoors, and I do, too. She wears contact lenses. I wear prescription glasses; and both coasts are clear.

To make up for ditching Bishop's concert at the Intramuros, she brought up a set of rules on her own terms and whatever she said was going to be the rules. I said "Okay!" She got her way and ordered me around the house. That was cool!

Her set of rules was specifically for the Memorial Day weekend and that whenever it's all over I could take back my manly stuff and go ahead with my own set of rules she'd not have problems complying with. The rules were set as follows: There would be no driving and Friday which commences the holiday weekend would be set for eating out, perhaps a little bit of home cooking and checking out the movies. I knew it was going to be a hell of a fun since summer was just breezing around the corner.

School is over for some -- my daughter is back and it's going to be a long, beautiful summer, especially her tales of academia and life in the dorm. The weather's quite nice. Lots of sunshine. The beaches are full to capacity. Bikinis. Hot pants. Those fine, dark sunglasses. Beautiful faces sipping cocktails in the sun.

The volleyball tournaments: Hermosa Beach. Redondo Beach. Venice Beach. Rockweller Beach. Santa Monica Beach. The mark of summer.

The eateries and the random popped up in-house restaurants. The real deal and summer jams. Ceccone's on Melrose Avenue in West Hollywood. Jane's House on Hollywood Blvd. The Standard in Downtown Los Angeles. The Mint on Pico Blvd. in West Los Angeles. Club Tatou on Boylston Street in Los Angeles. O'Brien's Irish Pub and Restaurant on Main Street in Santa Monica. The Amazon Hut Brazilian Juice Bar on Ocean Avenue in Santa Monica.

The new arrivals on the bookshelves. "Rinnavation: Getting Your Best Life Ever," by Lisa Rinna on life's amazing journey. "Bad Mother: A Chronicle Of Maternal Crimes, Minor Calamities, And Occasional Moments Of Grace," by Ayelet Waldman.

At the movies as the summer hits pops up in June. "Public Enemies," directed by Michael Mann and starring Johnny Depp as John Dillinger, the notorious Depression-era bank robber, and Christian Bale as Melvin Purvis, the fedral agent who tailed Dillinger. "The Taking Of Pelham 123," starring Academy Award winner Denzel Washington as Walter Mathau, of a New York transit dispatcher and directed by Tony Scott. Here, John Travolta stars as leader of the gang. James Gandofini appears as Mayor of New York whom Travolta must fear. "Funny People," directed by Judd Apatow and starring Adam Sandler, Leslie Mann and Seth Regan. The film is all comedy but Sandler's role as a dying middle-aged man might turn movie goers off.

"Taking Woodstock," directed by Ang Lee based on a true story of Elliot Tiber, an employee at a motel in the Castkills who inadvertantly made Woodstock happen. "Inglorious Bastards," -- another World War 2 story of Nazi occupied France written and directed by Quentin Terantino. The movie features Brad Pitt as the leader of the Jewish-American soldiers dispatched to perform targeted acts of retribution on German troops occupying France. "Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen," which opens in all theaters June 24. Michael Bay directed, starring Shia LeBeouf as Sam who becomes enmeshed in a battle between two extraterrestial clans "when he buys his first car and it turns out to be an alien robot in disguise." And, of course, there's Eddie Murphy's "Imagine That."

These, and too many others we talked about. So as it happened, she's the one calling the shots. She wanted some African dish, and I was like, o yeah, again? She did not know what was running through my mind about her quest for African food. She's the one calling the shots, remember? I had to oblige since this great country of ours is a nation of rules, fact why it's organized.

For some reason, she figured I was not comfortable with the African restaurant kind of stuff she's been persistent asking for. We have all the time in the world to eat ofe olugbo, bitter leaf soup (dunno why it's my favorite) coupled with the okporoko, stockfish, eju, snail, dried fish and anu ewu, goat meat, as long as her weekend rules were upheld and respected.

However, on Friday, May 22, she decided we should go whole grain, vegetables and stuff like that. One spot was not too far from our location. We walked down about six blocks to this restaurant on the Westside. It was kind of regular and approximately a nice way to begin the long weekend. The restaurant, recently remodelled had a gracious and attentive service. We ordered some seafoods that was served with chunks of salmon, perfectly cooked shrimp with lotta veggies and other health-related fiber stuff. She loves wholesome sweetners such as honey, maple syrup, sorhum, sucanet and stevia.

A good looking evening, we hopped on the bus to the Archlight Cinema in Hollywood to see Ron Howard's "Angels & demons," starring Tom Hanks which to me should be Howard's last in that category. The movie's full of surprises.

On Saturday, May 23, the rules did not change. No driving, remember? After cleaning up and doing the normal around house work, we concluded it's Metro Line time. We arrived at the Wilshire/Vermont Blue Line Station and hopped on the train. Checking out from the Hollywood/Highland Station, we took the steps and bumped on tourists from all walks of life who took pictures of stars and the accomplished on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Walking further down where Hollywood Blvd. meets Vine Street, and on the south of Hollywood laid the plaque of Apollo 13 -- Neil Armstrong, Edwin Aldrin Jr. and Michael Collins -- the first American astronauts to visit the moon.

On the north sits the landmark Capitol Records Tower known to have either recorded or marketed from the 50s to date, Frank Sinatra, Nat king Cole, Duran Duran, Richard Marx, David Bowie, The Beatles, The Beastie Boys, Kenny Rogers, Yellow Card, George Clinton, Selena Quintalline, Poison, The Band, Ice Cube, Radiohead, Tina Turner, Billy Holliday, Miles Davis, Grand Funk Railroad, Pink Floyd, Peter Tosh, Steve Miller Band, Maze, Dave Koz, Freddie Jackson, Snoop Dogg, Grace Jones, Kim Carnes, Queen, Eddie Harris and many others.

In continuation of our excursion, we went underground and hopped back on the train to the North Hollywood Station. A girl sitting next to us was reading a book on Andrew Jackson, an indication President Barack Obama's "The New Dawn" is doing stuff for the "era of the common man" and Jacksonian democracy to have replicated in the age of internet. While the train was about to station, I called my friend, Pascal, that we were on our way to his apartment. We popped up at the 5400 block of fair Avenue at the luxury NoHo (North Hollywood) Commons Apartments. We had arrived on time to watch the Los Angeles Lakers play the Dencer Nuggets in Game 3 of the Western Conference Finals. Three other guys and two gorgeous ladies were also visiting my friend, Pascal, and it seemed very much the guys were having a heart attack due to the uncertainties that had clouded Lakers' game during the series.

Our Lakers had pulled this one out to silence the cynics. Even Derek Fisher who had been written off, delivered and helped our Lakers pull a 103-97 victory over the Nuggets. Immediately after the game, we drove in two set of cars to The Echo on Sunset Blvd. in Hollywood. It's our kind of place. Time is telling. The place had a full bar, a dance floor and more than electric. It's a joint where the 70s and 80s pure funk would blow your mind. It was a blast and by the time it was over, we all realized Hollywood was a city of its own.

On Sunday, May 25, she had asked if I would be going to church. She's a practicing Catholic while I was born a Catholic. A difference. But I had shown her my new religious affiliation. The anonymously written book "I AM GOD: Here's My Message." I told her I would be ordering an additional copy as that might change her thinking on how religion has caused all the world's troubles. She prepared breakfast and we ate.

With that in place, we both agreed it's time to relax our driving restrictions and check out Hollywood proper; where Santa Monica Blvd. meets Western Avenue on the sidewalks women of easy virtue and prostitutes hang out. On the corner of Santa Monica Blvd. and Wilcox, Dragonfly, the sensational pot-smoking and reggae jams on Thursday nights. Amoeba Music, for all your record albums in any music category, facing the CNN building on Cahuenga and Sunset. The same sex ridden hangouts in West Hollywood on Sunset and Roxbury. After touring Hollywood for a minute coupled with sightseeing we took off for another round at the movies. We saw "Terminator Salvation" at the Mann Theaters in Hollywood. Kind of strange, though, the movie, to me, wasn't anything spectacular. A sequel to the three respective "Terminator" movies. I could not read her feelings about the movie.

On Monday, May 25, the awaited Memorial Day, arrived, eventually. We had been up early. There was the 2009 Los Angeles Marathon which I had never been part of, but have gone to see it, anyway. On this particular day and since all roads had been blocked, we chanced parking around Miracle Mile on the Wilshire Corridor. We had treked about 11 blocks and had stationed on the corner of La Brea Avenue and 3rd Street in Hancock Park. The marathon stretched from da hood through the "Black Township" of the Crenshaw thoroughfare all the way to Hancock Park and finishing up in Koreatown.

We had been almost exhausted and it's time for the last jam to end the holiday weekend. The jam: 23rd Annual UCLA Jazz Reggae Festival on the playgrounds of the campus' Intramural Field in Westwood, California. The previous night, Day 1 of the festival, which we missed as a result of other engagements had Erykah Badu, People Under the Stairs, Leela James and De La Soul take center stage. Day 2 had been slated to run between 12 P.M. until 7 P.M. It went later than that and, as usual, too much of a jam. The line up: Mavado, a.k.a "The Gully God" who performed live for the first time in LA, took the show to another level with his new band. He was equal to the occasion. Other casts in the reggae jam and finale were Michael Montano, Assassin, The Dirty Heads and Morgan Heritage.

Like Woodstock of the hippie-era and a replicated Coachella event in Indio, I had been exhausted from the excursions and partying hard the preceding days, and had laid flat on the field while the ragamuffin vibes transmitted through my head. The stomping UCLA campers and the voices of roots reggae did go through my head, and it was all good.

PHOTOS clockwise from bottom left: (2009 Los Angeles Marathon courtesy of Ian Sephton; MTA Tap Machine; Metro Rail Line; Metro Bus Line 770, Leela James takes center stage and performs "let's Do It Again," courtesy of Singers Room; and the 2009 UCLA Jazz Reggae Festival banner courtesy of The Deli Magazine.)

Riverside

Just for the heck of it and after having exhausted all my options in the goings on around the City of Angels and all that Hollywood hype, I decided as it popped up to me to seek refuge elsewhere in the Southland, temporarily, I would guess, on an expedition. I had thought about which particular place or city would be convenient for my nerves as the crazy, Hollywood wannabes, road rage and same sex driven gay and lesbian community tend to change the Southland into something the biblical principles condemned, long time ago -- I don't know about Leviticus, though.

But as I made up my mind, I had thought about several other Los Angeles suburbs and cities around Southern California. After the hurdle of thinking about it, Riverside, California, popped up, just like that; and the reason it became my point of call was something I really did not know, and in a case of lottery where I had gambled, Riverside won as my fantastic trip.

Quite some drive from Downtown Los Angeles and taking the 10 Freeway East to the 60 Freeway East on to the 71 Freeway and the 91 Freeway when the traffic had normally been humble, I did not sweat to the City of Riverside and walking down all the streets through City Hall, the journey was worth telling.

I had gone to the historic court house and passing through the metal detectors with tight security hanging around, I walked pass the sheriffs and the troubled with the law for court dates and appearances.

These days of much talked about recession and economic meltdown, folks around town 'dunno' what would be next. Hagglers were all around trying to broker a deal on foreclosures. Yes, that's right, every Tom, Dick and Harry you pass by seems to be dipping his or her hands where money can possibly be made, especially these hard times making money looks like a mirage. The courts, these days, are calm and from my observation at the Riverside Court House, everything seemed pretty much the same in the Southland. The clerks, sheriffs, plaintiffs, defendants, prosecutors and judges have sensed the need for cordial and mutual relationships, never minding the rule of law, applying human nature, fairness and understanding the toll this recession has taken on every American. This is the time to stick together and rebuild America; and that's exactly what seems to be going on.

On Mission Inn Avenue and Main Street where I checked in to the historic Mission Inn Hotel, I felt like I had landed in one of those exotic resorts in Miami Beach. I had arrived to a place that was totally strange, another big city. A whole lot of eatery, plaques, engravings and statues of the accomplished. It is a famous hangout and has been patronized by presidents, Kings, Brahmins and movie stars.

There's Bella Trattoria Italian Bistro, the fine Italian cuisine in a posh atmosphere. There's Mission Inn Restaurant which offers Italian, Mexican, American and other ethnic dishes from around the world. There are three other restaurants housed by the elegantly structured Mission Inn Hotel

Mission Inn was the perfect place for me in my quest to stay away from the bumper-to-bumper amd hustle-me-crazy Hollywood. Hollywood seems to be hype compared to the little moment I shared with Riverside. And I had begun to thinking about retiring to smaller cities or if necessary the woods, before I lose the remainder of my hearing from the noisy, crazy dubs of Hollywood, especially the rock concerts that had almost made me hard of hearing. Riverside does not look like my place of retirement. It is a big city.

At Mario's Place, another fine cuisine on Mission Inn Avenue and while taking some shots (I am becoming one of the fine photo shooters, believe it or not), I encountered a curious minded tourist who had thought I was also a tourist like him. The tourist had asked of my origin and I told him "I belong to the City of Angels." I got him confused because he was expecting an answer he already had in mind. He wanted to know my country of origin and I told him "Biafra."

"No, no, I mean, what country are you from?" he asked again.

"Biafra," I told him and he still did not get it.

I gave him a hint about the Holocaust in which six million Jews were murdered; the Rwandan genocide in which over a million souls perished in 1994; the Armenian genocide in which millions were massacred and the pogrom in which over two million Igbos were murdered in the most brutal of circumstances and the pogrom being the most blood soaked event in the African continent. He got some history lessons and he loved it. I continued my journey.

My second day at this fine city was full of fun. It was on a Saturday and a whole lot of line ups had been scheduled by the Riverside Parks, Recreation and Community Services.

University Avenue, UC Riverside, academia and scholars. The Street Jam. Lake Alice Trading Company Saloon and Eatery; hamburgers, sandwiches, fingerlicking foods and a host of salad varieties on the menu at this spot on the flashy University Avenue. Mr T's Family Restaurant where actual potatoes and eggs exactly how you want them are served on Main Street. The Tamale Factory, the catering style Mexican grub hosts great service and terrific tamale tastes on Main Street. Templo Del Sol, the best wrapped flour totilla with a bunch of meat, cheese, beans and veggies on University Avenue.

Orange Street and the beautiful smiling faces even though they do not show the evils in them. The bikers and the smoke shops. Back to the Grind Coffee House; poetry, live music, jazz, reggae, blues, rock, bluegrass including the kind of blues rock invented by Steve Winwood when he was discovered in Birmingham by Jamaican born Brit Chris Blackwell who also found Bob Marley, Junior Murvin, U2 and the rest. Blackwell owned Island Records.

So on this georgeous Saturday, I am vacationing in the desert, there were better graded approaches as everything got me knocked off including the Downtown Street Jam on Orange and Ninth Street. The event was the real deal. For the first time, I knew of the rock group Inhale, the area's local band. Superbad was the local ensemble that thrilled me the most with its pure funk and mixtures of soul, jazz flavors and hard rock. It was loud all evening and the dancing and stomping was on the street.

And one thing I observed in Downtown Riverside was while walking you will notice the absence of big-time pimps, prostitutes, junkies, runaway teens and crack heads commonly seen in Hollywood -- I mean, the squatting in alleys and empty buildings -- like rats hanging out in some cage.

But in Riverside, I'm quite sure the city residents appreciate the way their tax dollar is being spent as merchants and visitors who trooped in to watch The Downtown Street Jam could obviously tell that the Riverside local groups, Inhale, Polite, Superbad, Micah Justice and Paging Beto came to entertain for real and free of charge on the goodwill of the City of Riverside and the Riverside Downtown Partnership.

Not forgetting the usual place I hibernate to stay away from the whistle blowing Los Angeles, I had the chance to check out the Riverside Public Library on Mission Inn Avenue just next to Mission Inn Hotel. For one who loves to read and since I was on a pleasure trip, I did not do much and as an out of area guy. The procedure was different. I read the Riverside local papers -- Inland Empire Weekly and Press Enterprise. I also stopped by the Renaissance Book Shop on Magnolia Avenue where European and Asian literature, history and philosophy graced the shelves. I walked through and went to the music section and picked up the greatest living saxophonist, Sonny Rollins' recorded concerts CD "Road Shows Vol 1" for my listening pleasure.

My Riverside experience was actually entwined with the city's history. The city is big. It is the 61st largest city in the United States and 12th largest in California. It is one of the best places to live. Drive down on Orange and University Avenue to the 900 block of University Avenue sits the campus of UC Riverside and the city is located in California's 44th Congressional district. The fun: Keep going to view dozens more of University Avenue lovely structures, and eateries, and grab a bite or whatever along the way.

Pictures: (From top: Riverside City Hall, Riverside County Court House, Mission Inn Hotel, UC Riverside and the local ensemble Paging Beto)