A night of art in Old Town Pasadena

A night of free art and cultural exchange is a welcomed way to mix it up on a Saturday night. A departure from the dry clubs with single note music bumping over and over again with a fast enough beat for people who just can not dance or the lonely locals bars with pretentious flat screens playing nothing interesting at all on ESPN.

Being the emerging cultural center that Pasadena is, the city held an open house for the arts on March 13 and 14.

Pasadena is a beautiful place on a weekend night. People walking about under the cover of darkness, forgetting about the car-centered metropolis they are bond to, late night record stores desperately clinging to a better time before iTunes and auto-tune nonsense, a menagerie of bars and grills and sushi bars and sushi bars and grills and a town square on the cities main drag fully equipped with a jazz lounge, movie theater, high-end dinning and a Footlocker all in one place, Colorado Blvd.

The most appealing aspect, aside from the low low cost of nothing, was the circulating shuttle service dropping off and picking up art patrons with no need for a schedule. A few of the more daring, athletic, and sober art onlookers participated in the organized bike tours. And still, with most of the venues within walking distance the scene was very positive and reminiscent of a pub crawl, an art crawl so to speak.

Pasadena doesn't seem so far if you live in Pico or on the west side of Whittier. Just a quick shot down Rosemead Blvd and a sharp left on Colorado Blvd before the sight of mountains and a bright red light. My first destination was Pasadena City College where I left my car for the night in the warm embrace of the half full lot and the invisible shadow of the library at night.

PCC was hosting an exhibit entitled "Simply Because You're Near to Me" which consisted of video installments by their artist-in-residence Eileen Cowin. Never being able to understand new media art and things of the sort I bypassed it and instead opted for the shuttle to the next destination, photos and paintings just seem more appealing. There was, however, a funky band outside the exhibit giving the scene some much needed ambiance.

On the shuttle I was surprised by the diversity of the riders. Children brought by their parents having the time of their lives, pseudo-hip college students trying even harder to act hip, the save the earth green scene, and plenty of old people.

It was already late into the event, with a head still lingering high above the clouds and the taste of zig-zags on my lips my date and I step off the shuttle and staggered up the steps of Paseo Colorado into the Pasadena Jazz Institute.

This place caught me completely off guard, expecting a hall of grand academia in tribute to America's most original art form I had wandered into a full out happening jazz lounge. "Chasin' the Trane" a tribute to John Coltrane was already reaching its zenith and the bar was in the midst of complete disbursement. After a few saxophone numbers it was time to move on to the next stop.

We took a shuttle to nowhere when we realized our next desired stop was back in the other direction. But in the heart of old town Pasadena you can not help but want to walk and breath in the strolling life. The girl at my side was more than happy to oblige. En route we passed the most grandiose supermarket I've ever seen. Unable to order drinks at the Jazz Institute earlier because her California driver's license still reads 1989 I asked if she would like to make good use of the grocery store. The omnipresent glimmer in her eye left no need for an auditory response.

Walking and talking loudly and laughing in into the air we arrived at the Pasadena Symphony where an open rehearsal was talking place. We had to finish our drinks before entering the building. Fully equipped with hydration, libation and our heads flittering with inebriation the grand step of the symphony served as the perfect crow's nest to sit and truly clutch the pulse of the city.

There I learned how incorrect my previous assumptions were about art not having any place in the technology driven 21st century, while my partner in crime learned that Coca Cola is not a very good chaser. Art is still very much alive; you just need to look a little harder these days.

The next morning we would return and sit in on a few performances at the Boston Court Performing Arts Center. A much more sedated, formal occasion played host to best selling author Jervey Tervalon read a few lines from his stories and the Nevenka Folk Ensemble sang a few folk songs from Eastern Europe acapella.

It was a very enriching moment, but fine art after bacon and eggs could not match up with the night before.