Had the remarkable good luck to see Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds this past weekend. This is one of those moments when you thank whatever cosmic alignment was necessary to bring them to town, and to have them play my current fave venue, the Vogue.
I could go on and on about the reverence I have for Nick Cave. Don't worry, I won't. But I will say that the man has an amazing brain - and he is probably one of the strongest lyricists around. Heck, arguably one of the strongest writers, based on his film work and other writing. The best singer in the world? Probably not - but his voice is perfectly suited to the material, and he can sell a song like no one else.
A couple of fine examples from two ends of the Bad Seeds spectrum, c/o my frere and his superior videoing skills - first, the lovely Into My Arms (I challenge any other lyricist to work in "interventionist God":
And the EPIC Stagger Lee:
We were so lucky. SO lucky. And really, there isn't much else to say.
Tuesday, April 09, 2013
Saturday, April 06, 2013
Endings and beginnings
Spring is finally here. Really here - with cherry trees in bloom and spring bulbs brightening up the garden as everything goes through its annual rebirth. Life is happening again. For once, I've been feeling that way too. Optimistic. Mixed with a surprising level of contentment...all marked with that vibrating, spring-y promise of things to come. Not really sure what is causing me to feel this way, but I will hang on to it for as long as it lasts - and I'm old enough to know it probably won't be all that long.
Speaking of rebirth, we finally scattered Dad's ashes today - along with those of two of his canine companions, Chobe and Chaka. The timing was right - Mum has had his ashes for a couple of years now, and she was ready to let him mix with the water and go back to the earth.
We aren't a family that does well with formal ceremony. For other families, this could have been grave and solemn. And to be honest, if Dad had been on the shore scattering one of us, it probably would have been more formal - his upbringing was such that ceremony brought him comfort. Instead, the ashes were carried down to the beach at Whytecliff Park in a British Butcher Shop bag - something that seemed appropriate to us (after all, you can get Murray Mints at the British Butcher). The dogs went first, followed by Dad. As the ashes were scattered, and we watched the grey clouds of ash being mixed and spread by the tide, chased by tulips, the sun started to peek through the grey skies.
It was right. And a lovely way to say goodbye - again.
(Goodbye that is to all but the layer of Dad that blew back onto Mike's legs - which to be honest, felt right too)
Speaking of rebirth, we finally scattered Dad's ashes today - along with those of two of his canine companions, Chobe and Chaka. The timing was right - Mum has had his ashes for a couple of years now, and she was ready to let him mix with the water and go back to the earth.
We aren't a family that does well with formal ceremony. For other families, this could have been grave and solemn. And to be honest, if Dad had been on the shore scattering one of us, it probably would have been more formal - his upbringing was such that ceremony brought him comfort. Instead, the ashes were carried down to the beach at Whytecliff Park in a British Butcher Shop bag - something that seemed appropriate to us (after all, you can get Murray Mints at the British Butcher). The dogs went first, followed by Dad. As the ashes were scattered, and we watched the grey clouds of ash being mixed and spread by the tide, chased by tulips, the sun started to peek through the grey skies.
It was right. And a lovely way to say goodbye - again.
(Goodbye that is to all but the layer of Dad that blew back onto Mike's legs - which to be honest, felt right too)
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Just give me a name
A brief post about a couple of this weekend's fun escapades:
Firstly, the last of this season's DanceHouse shows - Carte Blanche's "Corps de Walk", which was much more amazing than this clip makes it seem. A piece that felt somehow industrial and sensual at the same time - and danced by people wearing creepy grey contact lenses to boot.
Will definitely want to buy tickets for next season. I'm not sure I understand contemporary dance any more than I did two or three years ago, but I find it more and more compelling as time goes on.
And secondly - a great concert with long-time Canadian alt-folk/popster, Hayden, touring on his lovely recent album Us Alone. Musically, he remains the stark, subtle, heartbreaking artist he's always been - and live he was a joy, as he's been every time I've seen him - a quietly funny guy, as many of the more poignant songwriters often are. A quietly funny guy with totally epic hair, that unfortunately my poor video quality doesn't do justice. This is one of the poppier tunes from the most recent album, performed with Lou Canon, who also did an opening set.
The Rio is quickly becoming one of my favorite place to see quieter performers - but YAY to the high stage, and the comfy seating. The lighting could do with some work, but otherwise they're doing a grand job.
One of these days I will feel like writing something more thought provoking. But not today. It's too sunny out.
Will definitely want to buy tickets for next season. I'm not sure I understand contemporary dance any more than I did two or three years ago, but I find it more and more compelling as time goes on.
And secondly - a great concert with long-time Canadian alt-folk/popster, Hayden, touring on his lovely recent album Us Alone. Musically, he remains the stark, subtle, heartbreaking artist he's always been - and live he was a joy, as he's been every time I've seen him - a quietly funny guy, as many of the more poignant songwriters often are. A quietly funny guy with totally epic hair, that unfortunately my poor video quality doesn't do justice. This is one of the poppier tunes from the most recent album, performed with Lou Canon, who also did an opening set.
The Rio is quickly becoming one of my favorite place to see quieter performers - but YAY to the high stage, and the comfy seating. The lighting could do with some work, but otherwise they're doing a grand job.
One of these days I will feel like writing something more thought provoking. But not today. It's too sunny out.
Sunday, March 17, 2013
How has my love affected you? & other good things
A quick, lazy post, on one of the rare sunny days we've seen this month....
A cultural-life check in from this week: firstly, a gorgeous, first-nations inspired production of the Magic Flute by the VOC with my brother, and secondly, the thought provoking "How has my love affected you?" - explained succinctly in this trailer:
A very compelling piece of theatre for sure, performed by the father/son duo Marcus and Zak Youssef. My cultural-partner in crime A. mused afterwards that perhaps in the sharing of the very difficult, at times disturbing (finding his mother beside him in bed when he was 18? Not so normal...) relationship with his mother, Marcus isn't at some level doing the same sort of 'oversharing' with his son that his mother did with him when he was young. I guess the difference is perhaps the context, and one hopes the overall 'health' of their relationship in general. There is one point when Marcus starts to tell a story about him and Zak, and Zak pulls him up short, and Marcus respects his son's boundaries - a conceit I guess to clarify that boundaries and respect exist in their relationship, things that were obviously bent and strained in the relationship between Marcus and his mother. Music was written by the always amazing Veda Hille - love that woman's work, I really do!
Before I forget - we had dinner at Edible Canada before - two thumbs up, and ALL digits up for the amazing chai flavoured crème brûlée - it's my mission recreate that joy in ice-cream form soon.
And today - a gorgeous hike in Deep Cove with the goils. In the sun. I could almost smell summer.
A very compelling piece of theatre for sure, performed by the father/son duo Marcus and Zak Youssef. My cultural-partner in crime A. mused afterwards that perhaps in the sharing of the very difficult, at times disturbing (finding his mother beside him in bed when he was 18? Not so normal...) relationship with his mother, Marcus isn't at some level doing the same sort of 'oversharing' with his son that his mother did with him when he was young. I guess the difference is perhaps the context, and one hopes the overall 'health' of their relationship in general. There is one point when Marcus starts to tell a story about him and Zak, and Zak pulls him up short, and Marcus respects his son's boundaries - a conceit I guess to clarify that boundaries and respect exist in their relationship, things that were obviously bent and strained in the relationship between Marcus and his mother. Music was written by the always amazing Veda Hille - love that woman's work, I really do!
Before I forget - we had dinner at Edible Canada before - two thumbs up, and ALL digits up for the amazing chai flavoured crème brûlée - it's my mission recreate that joy in ice-cream form soon.
And today - a gorgeous hike in Deep Cove with the goils. In the sun. I could almost smell summer.
Friday, March 01, 2013
The murder has landed...
It's done.
DONE.
I am thrilled, and relieved. I was wound up like a spring yesterday morning, waiting for my noon tattoo with Eric. I was wound up as I had only seen preliminary artwork (which I liked, but did request changes to), I had no idea if I would be able to deal with the pain, and the biggest fear - regret. Regret because the piece had turned out terribly, regret because I might change my mind...you know. Regret.
I parked a bit early, wandered down to the restaurant Tui works in for a good luck hug (and a very very tasty almond milk chai) - a nice coincidence that she was only half a block away from the shop. Eric was having a smoke outside the shop when I arrived. He reassured me I'd be fine (what else is he going to say?). I walked in and one of the girls working in the shop said OH you're here for the crows! They're AWESOME!
That helped. Hearing that, helped. And the energy in the shop helped. They were young, and enthusiastic. When a new client got booked by one of the women, she wandered back and excitedly told Eric what she was getting to do. There was no attitude. No jaded coolness. Just fun and passion for what they do.
And she was right - the crows were awesome.
Eric is lovely - a kind, unpretentious young guy. We chatted about music, and school, and family. About the things he had to do when he was an apprentice tattooer (including repeatedly stencilling the word "woof" on an academic professional's 'taint'...something that obviously haunts him a little). About what parts of the body hurt most under the needle (apparently bums smart something fierce - who knew?). About how he wants to get tattooed (pretty much) everywhere, in part so he has a good sense of what each area feels like for his clients. And all that chat kept my mind off the discomfort going on - and I will call it discomfort for 90% of the process, pain for 10% (those big solid black areas do begin to smart something fierce). I focused on the weight of his arms on my leg, and that somehow reassured me and made it easier. Also making it easier? A quick visit from Tui who took the photos above. She was slightly disappointed that it was seeming so easy for me, kind hearted soul that she is. It was four hours of fun, but it didn't feel nearly that long.
One thing that came out talking to Eric is how differently he (and the girls in the shop, and probably most young tattooers) view tattoos. Me, I ruminated on this for years. Where, what, would I get tired of it, who would do it...so many decisions. Them? They have some downtime and will tattoo each other on the spur of the moment. He laughed and told me that when he started, he used to practice on himself, so his thighs are covered with random, slightly ridiculous tattoos. There was a bit of regret - only in that he has lost some space that could be used for bigger pieces. But there is still plenty of skin to play with, I gather. An attitude reflecting a generational difference? Maybe. Or maybe once you're into body modification in a big way, you are liberated from the kinds of worries I had.
The end result? I'm very happy. He hit the level of detail I wanted perfectly.
At one point during the process, I made the comment that "this is a one time thing" - he looked up and smiled, and said "that's what you think..." He may be right.
DONE.
I am thrilled, and relieved. I was wound up like a spring yesterday morning, waiting for my noon tattoo with Eric. I was wound up as I had only seen preliminary artwork (which I liked, but did request changes to), I had no idea if I would be able to deal with the pain, and the biggest fear - regret. Regret because the piece had turned out terribly, regret because I might change my mind...you know. Regret.
I parked a bit early, wandered down to the restaurant Tui works in for a good luck hug (and a very very tasty almond milk chai) - a nice coincidence that she was only half a block away from the shop. Eric was having a smoke outside the shop when I arrived. He reassured me I'd be fine (what else is he going to say?). I walked in and one of the girls working in the shop said OH you're here for the crows! They're AWESOME!
And she was right - the crows were awesome.
Eric is lovely - a kind, unpretentious young guy. We chatted about music, and school, and family. About the things he had to do when he was an apprentice tattooer (including repeatedly stencilling the word "woof" on an academic professional's 'taint'...something that obviously haunts him a little). About what parts of the body hurt most under the needle (apparently bums smart something fierce - who knew?). About how he wants to get tattooed (pretty much) everywhere, in part so he has a good sense of what each area feels like for his clients. And all that chat kept my mind off the discomfort going on - and I will call it discomfort for 90% of the process, pain for 10% (those big solid black areas do begin to smart something fierce). I focused on the weight of his arms on my leg, and that somehow reassured me and made it easier. Also making it easier? A quick visit from Tui who took the photos above. She was slightly disappointed that it was seeming so easy for me, kind hearted soul that she is. It was four hours of fun, but it didn't feel nearly that long.
One thing that came out talking to Eric is how differently he (and the girls in the shop, and probably most young tattooers) view tattoos. Me, I ruminated on this for years. Where, what, would I get tired of it, who would do it...so many decisions. Them? They have some downtime and will tattoo each other on the spur of the moment. He laughed and told me that when he started, he used to practice on himself, so his thighs are covered with random, slightly ridiculous tattoos. There was a bit of regret - only in that he has lost some space that could be used for bigger pieces. But there is still plenty of skin to play with, I gather. An attitude reflecting a generational difference? Maybe. Or maybe once you're into body modification in a big way, you are liberated from the kinds of worries I had.
The end result? I'm very happy. He hit the level of detail I wanted perfectly.
At one point during the process, I made the comment that "this is a one time thing" - he looked up and smiled, and said "that's what you think..." He may be right.
Saturday, February 23, 2013
(im)permanent change
Lazy blogger here. It isn't that there hasn't been a lot to blog about - last weekend was full of film and dance and hikes and science world nerdy fun. Still, the impulse to write - well, it just wasn't there.
Consider this a pre-boarding announcement for a blog later this week that hopefully will be more interesting.
I've been going through a fair bit of change over the last year - changes of focus, changes to routine. Some internal changes, some external - my hair is probably 6 inches longer, and my body is three sizes smaller. Those are things will fluctuate over time I'm sure. Impermanent change.
And I've been fussing over the last year about a permanent change - a tattoo. I've known what I want, and where I want it, for a long time - actually I've known what I want for at least four years, but I didn't decide on the where until more recently. The last year has been a strange roller coaster of trying to find the right person to do it. First, I wanted a woman. I found someone amazing in Montreal who travels to Vancouver from time to time, but she didn't get back to me. I gave up on her, and tried to find a woman in town whose work I really liked, but couldn't. And, to be honest, what I want done isn't all that complex, and isn't going to be of much interest to the 'superstars' in town anyway - and things are such that good artists can pick and choose their clients. Then my brain flipped on the whole "female artist" thing, and I started looking at the guys in town. AND - I found someone whose work felt right...but I was also pulled by the work of a junior guy that was working at the same shop. A couple of weeks back, I decide to try to make an appointment. Ya, well, guy number one was dead - a heart attack in January apparently. Which left me with the junior guy. I met with him last week, and for some reason (hopefully not delusional) he feels right. He's got a nice manner, and none of the ego that can go along with the industry these days. He will get some artwork to me early this week, with plans to do the work on Thursday if it all pans out. I have a feeling this long journey has ended up with me being where I was meant to be.
So, think of me Thursday afternoon, crashed out on T1s and praying that this permanent change will turn out OK.
Consider this a pre-boarding announcement for a blog later this week that hopefully will be more interesting.
I've been going through a fair bit of change over the last year - changes of focus, changes to routine. Some internal changes, some external - my hair is probably 6 inches longer, and my body is three sizes smaller. Those are things will fluctuate over time I'm sure. Impermanent change.
And I've been fussing over the last year about a permanent change - a tattoo. I've known what I want, and where I want it, for a long time - actually I've known what I want for at least four years, but I didn't decide on the where until more recently. The last year has been a strange roller coaster of trying to find the right person to do it. First, I wanted a woman. I found someone amazing in Montreal who travels to Vancouver from time to time, but she didn't get back to me. I gave up on her, and tried to find a woman in town whose work I really liked, but couldn't. And, to be honest, what I want done isn't all that complex, and isn't going to be of much interest to the 'superstars' in town anyway - and things are such that good artists can pick and choose their clients. Then my brain flipped on the whole "female artist" thing, and I started looking at the guys in town. AND - I found someone whose work felt right...but I was also pulled by the work of a junior guy that was working at the same shop. A couple of weeks back, I decide to try to make an appointment. Ya, well, guy number one was dead - a heart attack in January apparently. Which left me with the junior guy. I met with him last week, and for some reason (hopefully not delusional) he feels right. He's got a nice manner, and none of the ego that can go along with the industry these days. He will get some artwork to me early this week, with plans to do the work on Thursday if it all pans out. I have a feeling this long journey has ended up with me being where I was meant to be.
So, think of me Thursday afternoon, crashed out on T1s and praying that this permanent change will turn out OK.
Sunday, February 03, 2013
Still standing ... you
Still standing you. [or] Still supporting you. [or] Still bearing you. [or] Still standing for you. [or] Still standing with you. [or] Still standing. [or] Just still. (PuSh 2013)
Ah yes, that time has come - it was my last PuSh show last night, the remarkable Still Standing You - a contemporary dance piece quite unlike anything I've seen before. I went with my discerning partner in dance viewing, A. ("hey, do you want to go see a dance piece with two naked guys throwing each other around?" "Sure!") - ok, our decision making isn't always the most refined process, but we both love being challenged, and PuSh programming is almost always a safe bet.
I looked for clips of the work online - this one isn't great, but it is the one that best gives the arc of the performance. It starts with one man balanced on the other's feet, talking to the audience very casually about his experience in the city they are performing in, which sets up a particular relationship with the audience. It takes away any preciousness or pretension from the work, cues you in to the fact that it is OK to laugh, and begins the process of setting up the dynamic between the two men, which is maybe best outlined by the quote at the top of the post. The piece moves from the two growling and taunting and jockeying for position through to moments of remarkable tenderness and support. It's every relationship. With the caveat that most relationships don't involve one partner attempting to consume the other's Superman underwear. And most dance pieces don't include remarkably intricate moves that result in mind bogglingly manipulated foreskins (yes, this is not a work that could be performed by the circumcised). A remarkable, incredibly physical, funny, moving piece. Gads, I love the arts.
DRODESERA 2012 We Folk! - PIETER AMPE & GUILHERME GARRIDO "STILL STANDING YOU" from Centrale Fies on Vimeo.
Other than that, I had a chance to catch up briefly with a dear pal from Toronto this week - someone I've known since 1988, and my first friend when I moved back east. So good to see her, and so good to see the gods smiling on her life. The gods have perhaps not been smiling on Maggie, who had to have her teeth cleaned and one extraction this week (I was arguing for a gold crown but no dice). She is finally getting back to normal, despite having to suffer through having meds squirted down her throat twice a day.
And as for me? Well, I am in a battle with my dissembling brain, an organ that likes to taunt me from time. Hopefully the 20% of my brain that seems to realize what is fantasy and what is reality will win out. Memory is truly a funny thing. The saying "time heals all wounds" really means time will give your brain a chance to rewrite history, and blur the pokey edges. That's not a bad thing, but you have to be on your toes enough to know what's going on. I will put my pointe shoes on.
Ah yes, that time has come - it was my last PuSh show last night, the remarkable Still Standing You - a contemporary dance piece quite unlike anything I've seen before. I went with my discerning partner in dance viewing, A. ("hey, do you want to go see a dance piece with two naked guys throwing each other around?" "Sure!") - ok, our decision making isn't always the most refined process, but we both love being challenged, and PuSh programming is almost always a safe bet.
I looked for clips of the work online - this one isn't great, but it is the one that best gives the arc of the performance. It starts with one man balanced on the other's feet, talking to the audience very casually about his experience in the city they are performing in, which sets up a particular relationship with the audience. It takes away any preciousness or pretension from the work, cues you in to the fact that it is OK to laugh, and begins the process of setting up the dynamic between the two men, which is maybe best outlined by the quote at the top of the post. The piece moves from the two growling and taunting and jockeying for position through to moments of remarkable tenderness and support. It's every relationship. With the caveat that most relationships don't involve one partner attempting to consume the other's Superman underwear. And most dance pieces don't include remarkably intricate moves that result in mind bogglingly manipulated foreskins (yes, this is not a work that could be performed by the circumcised). A remarkable, incredibly physical, funny, moving piece. Gads, I love the arts.
DRODESERA 2012 We Folk! - PIETER AMPE & GUILHERME GARRIDO "STILL STANDING YOU" from Centrale Fies on Vimeo.
Other than that, I had a chance to catch up briefly with a dear pal from Toronto this week - someone I've known since 1988, and my first friend when I moved back east. So good to see her, and so good to see the gods smiling on her life. The gods have perhaps not been smiling on Maggie, who had to have her teeth cleaned and one extraction this week (I was arguing for a gold crown but no dice). She is finally getting back to normal, despite having to suffer through having meds squirted down her throat twice a day.
And as for me? Well, I am in a battle with my dissembling brain, an organ that likes to taunt me from time. Hopefully the 20% of my brain that seems to realize what is fantasy and what is reality will win out. Memory is truly a funny thing. The saying "time heals all wounds" really means time will give your brain a chance to rewrite history, and blur the pokey edges. That's not a bad thing, but you have to be on your toes enough to know what's going on. I will put my pointe shoes on.
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