Hipster Shavuot: a slice of Talmud, but no cheesecake?

Club Six is one cruel dance palace and one heck of a strange place to celebrate Shavuot. On this day we honor Moses receiving the Law on Mount Sinai. To get to the celebration, I have to wend my way down Sixth Street in San Francisco through a zone of lawlessness — past homeless people spun out on crack and alcohol at the end of a scorching Sunday.

The event is called Dawn 2005, co-sponsored by Threshing Floor Productions, the Hub and the Progressive Jewish Alliance, and it's supposed to go all night. I'm hoping for some cheesecake (the signature food of Shavuot) of quality.

I have bad associations with Club Six. Let's just say that I learned some ways that being single can haunt you in the club's creepy multiple levels. In such a claustrophobic space, it can get lonely, especially the peculiar basement with its catacombs.

I enter the space buoyed by the possibility of redemption, the infusion of the sacred into this Parthenon of the profane.

"Can I get three more Messiahs?" Jeremy Cowan of He'brew beer yells to the bartender. Three more Messiah Bolds, that is. He's running a beer tasting and relates the tale of selling cases of "The Chosen Beer" to Yemenite Muslims in Hell's Kitchen.

Hipster Jews are milling. Where's the cheesecake? Where are the siddurim? There's a sea of designer jeans half-grooving to R&B with Jewish themes.

I'm dismayed. I see Rabbi Sydney Mintz of Congregation Emanu-El and tell her I'm troubled by what seems like a lack of spirituality. She's clearly having a good time and looks at me like I'm taking things too seriously. "I'm glad this many Jews decided to come out on a Sunday night instead of staying home to do their laundry," she says.

I can see her point, but the basement is still tainted with sleaze. There's a million things going on at once. Amy Tobin and her band are playing slow funk, films are projected on the wall, solo guitarist John Schott is hunched over in a blue satin yarmulke making submarine noises with his electronics. The beer guy is talking about the chocolatey flavor of ale.

I'm ready to give up. It's a strain to focus on any one of the activities — the roar of the bar crowd is an ooze of shmooze, booze and micro-miniskirts.

Jews! Is this any way to keep spirituality alive?

In the darkest hour, a light shines through. Mintz takes the place of the beer guy to give a talk on the Book of Ruth. People come out of the shadows and a crowd forms around Mintz on cushions. They lean forward to hear her over the din of music, sirens outside and dialogue from the films showing on the other side of the room. Presto — a study group has formed. Mintz only has 40 minutes to talk, even though the event has about seven hours left to go. She begins by passing out paper cups filled with slivovitz — apparently Orthodox students rely on the plum brandy to stay awake at Shavuot study sessions. The group is young and Mintz fits in perfectly with her yarmulke and studded belt.

The rabbi proves her reputation as an articulate and charismatic spiritual teacher. She talks about the story of Ruth and how it brings up complex questions about Jewish identity.

She doesn't have time for answers, though, as she riffs off the questions from the group. People don't want her to stop, but she has to because the floor has to be wiped down to prepare for a dance performance. Someone in the group asks her to define what it is that makes one Jewish. She laughs at the enormity of the challenge.

A dolled-up drag queen sitting behind me answers for her. "Chutzpah, darling, Chutzpah."

It's midnight and I've had too much slivovitz. The dance performance begins with writhing dancers in skimpy outfits wrapping swaths of fabric around themselves. I go out the door onto Sixth not knowing how the night will turn out. Will there be an alchemy of sacred study and suave decadence? I won't know — right now it's just too much to handle and I need to go to bed.




Jay Schwartz plays the trap drums in San Francisco, where he lives with his wife and canine. He can be reached at .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address)">.(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address).