A weekend of Arts & Entertainment

I saw the Vancouver Playhouse’s production of The Fantasticks on Friday evening. We had really good seats, 8 rows from the front, slightly house left of centre. I had House managed Sheridan College’s version of it back around 1991, so although I was familiar with the music, I was a bit fuzzy on the storyline. All but one character is male and Theatre Sheridan didn’t have enough men eligible for leads, so the fathers were aunties, but it was really good. This was the first time I’d seen it done by professionals and I was reminded of what my EYCI choirmaster had called the rarity of “singing actors”. There are many actors who can sing well, but they’re not actually singers. And vice versa, excepting perhaps those with operatic training. So we saw some actors who were really good, and their voices were passable, but although I don’t know what I was expecting, I guess I was expecting more. The comic relief team of Bard on the Beach’s Christopher Gaze and Simon Bradbury stole the show. And not just because I volunteer at BOTB and am a member as well, but because they were, simply put, a delight. The words “cock-a-doodle-doo” are now forever connected with Christopher Gaze’s portrayal of Henry, and that’s just fine by me. The actor playing El Gallo was a hit with the ladies, as he is meant to be, but I always pictured him to be more of a rogue all around. Smooth, yet “rough and tumble”, so when we saw a very suave, self-assured, but deliberate and exact, El Gallo, it seemed a bit “off”. His singing was perfect – every note delivered with absolute precision, but let’s just say that my disbelief was rarely suspended. So when we left the theatre, we had mixed feelings.

On Saturday, I had the privilege of being one of the fortunate people who had been able to purchase a ticket for the sold-out Mumford & Sons show at the Vogue Theatre. I’d never been there before, and I had a 1st row seat in the 1st balcony, the most House Right seat of the centre section. Perfect vantage point, but not good for standing (too high of a drop for me as I’m afraid of heights). A bloke by the name of King Charles opened. Great voice – a wardrobe inspired by Russell Brand “look at how tight my pants are” – hair to rival the bird’s nest that Amy Winehouse’s can be – and a really lovely stage presence. It was as if he placed himself 2nd to the music. He only did half a dozen songs or so, one of which was a lyrically updated “We didn’t start the fire” by Billy Joel, but I wouldn’t mind seeing him perform again in a smaller, more intimate venue. He has the capacity for owning a room in very short order.

Next up were Mt. Desolation, a band I’d only ever heard about, but never actually heard. Considering I’ve been on their mailing list for the last 4 months, that did strike me as odd, but I was looking forward to finally hearing and seeing them. Musically, they call themselves “alt-country”, and some songs were a bit too “rockabilly” to my liking. However, the musicianship they possess, and energy and fun they have performing was remarkable. They can twang with the best of them, but they also make good on the fact that they too, can “rock out”. Reminded me a bit of a band I once saw support Great Big Sea – I can’t quite remember their name, but it had “Copper” in it. If Mt. Desolation continue to be more alt than country and more rock than ‘billy, then I can totally see myself buying their new and first CD and actually listening to it. For the time being, I would see them again live in a heartbeat. Their keyboard-player/singer alone brings enough verve and enthusiasm to his performance that other bands en masse don’t even bring across.

The headliner: Mumford & Sons. I had never seen them before – I only discovered them the “usual” way. Hear a song on the radio, don’t have a clue who it’s by, but it sticks with me. Then another tune by same band I really like and don’t initially make the connection that it’s the same band. Get name – search out music – thank iTunes and then almost go ‘rabid’ with excitement. When tickets went on sale in mid-August, there was no way I was going to miss out on seeing them. I was not disappointed. My God, they blew my mind. If you’ve ever been at a show when you’ve been so into the music and the performance as a whole you could just cry from the perfection of the moment, that was what last night was like. There was no mistaking it – EVERYONE at the Vogue loved them. The house was theirs. I saw little 8-year olds with parents and grey-haired folks and of course, the ubiquitous Vancouver uni-crowd. A diverse demographic for a band with diverse appeal. One acoustic song (the crowd composed of many shushers and a few who didn’t understand quite how “acoustic” works). The Cave was the final song of the evening, saved for part of the encore which everyone knew had to come because that song hadn’t been included in the regular set. Sigh no more was the song they started with. From beginning to end - apart from drunken young women (and men) asking for certain members of the band to take their pants off (really? Really!) and the annoying guy with a yodel-like woo-hoo-hoo – it filled every sense to the brim and was more than I could ever have imagined of this band. There was talk of plans to record a new album next year (YES, PLEASE). In the meantime, may I suggest a live CD or EP? It would tie the fans over – the two new songs very much appreciated – and although it couldn’t possibly do a live show justice, it could keep the experience and memories of having been to a live performance very much present in a person’s mind.

Friday – 3 out of 5
Saturday – 5 out of 5

Haven

Anyone who knows me does know I like TV. As a genre, it can be incredibly thought-provoking, interesting, entertaining, informative/educational, as well as escapist, a procrastination aid, and a general waste of time. I used to downplay it, but on the whole, and as long as it doesn't interfere or prevent one from getting on with one's life and the whole business of living, I say "okay". Besides, I watch taped programmes from the PVR often enough, I may as well write about some of them.

I came across this new show called Haven on Showcase last week. It's based on a Stephen King short story and that caught my attention. I think his books are a little too scary for what my imagination can handle, but I do think he is a gifted storyteller. He knows exactly where the black and the white is, and directs his attention to all the areas of grey people usually don't consider. He did it with another short story "Needful Things" and he did it also with "The Colorado Kid", on which this new series is based.

I'm two episodes in and I already can see the tendrils of arcs and possibilities stretching out. The fact that it is on Showcase is a comfort, I think, because even if no one and their sister watches it, they'll continue producing it. Kudos for shooting it in Canada - the Maritime Museum of the Atlantic in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia figures prominently in most panorama shots of "Haven" (supposedly in Maine) and the cast is also engaging. The two leads I know very little about (Emily Rose and Lucas Bryant), but Nicholas Campbell will be a regular and two of tonight's guests were Stephen McHattie (another icon among Canadian actors) and Caroline Cave (who I know and like from another Showcase programme called Crash & Burn). Maurice Dean Wynt was in the first episode, and he also doesn't suck. All in all, a promising beginning for a promising show. I hope it lasts.

Performances Reviewed

So, I had my performance review the other day and one point that came to my attention was my habit of unsolicited offerings. Trouble is, I don't have anyone at home with whom to process my thoughts, or knows the same people I encounter at work, or any of that, so I process at work, which can make me come across as snotty, smart-ass, bitter, or all kinds of things. BUT, I can use this as my outlet, so here goes.

Dude at work. Useless (was that already too judgey?). So, he starts dating this girl in October, moves in with her in February, proposes in April - gets so hammered (or stoned) the same night, he can't be bothered with a rubber, and, you guessed it, knocks her up. Expecting twins. This from a guy who, so I've been told, has in the past and on a regular basis, used his rent money to purchase coke and pot. Anywho, dude is also from another country and hasn't officially emigrated. His deportation was ordered a few months back, SOMEHOW, he got it extended, but in his infinite competence, missed a hearing earlier this week and a deportation order was issued. His solution, to marry his pregnant girlfriend (fiancee) next week (like THAT isn't going to raise any flags for Immigration). The plan still is to have a wedding in her home province (ON) as well as a wedding in his home country (Mexico) and to have a "real" wedding here in BC for their friends.

They both in their infinite wisdom decide they should have the twins in Ontario, because health care is free (no it isn't) and then they can live with her parents (rent-free) until they move to Mexico to live with his parents (rent-free) until they can claim welfare. He's sending her to Ontario in September/October (when she needs the most help from him and it's really not her parents' job to do so) so he can stay in Van "and save some money" and work a little longer, then move to Ontario in November/December. The twins are due in late December. Statistically, their chances of going to full-term are close to non-existent.

What a bona fide clusterfuck! I feel sorry for the children already. Their parents are very nice people, but I really don't think they know what they're in for.

I feel better now. Might even be able to shut up at work when it is mentioned in future. It does after all have nothing to do with me (thanking God for this small mercy), but COME ON! insert a frustrated "ARGH!!!" sound here. Thank you for listening.

Sunday Night Blog, Post 4

It's a belated Sunday Night Blog

Stuff happens when I write; stuff happens more when I don’t write. Ergo: I really should write more, or at least regularly. Will do better.

So, the first thing I wanted to share was my promotion. I’ll save the other things for future blogs (if only to ensure they happen). It had been initially discussed in late summer as a hypothetical “how would you feel if?”. I was all for it, but it had to mature and in a way, so had I. Punctuality was never my forte, but every morning I get up with the intention of being there on time, and every time SOMETHING happens. Mostly me, if I’m honest. Too many snoozes. Can’t find the car keys. Can’t find the house keys. Too much temperature variation in the shower (equalling to too much time spent fiddling in order to repair it). Where are the clothes I wanted to wear. Spend too much time dithering or tidying. And then there’s my usual version of organised chaos. I am a walking contradiction and considering how rigid I can be in many things, it’s amazing how my starting time at work gets translated in my wee brain to a “general guideline”.

Anyways, so now I’m going to be part of the Management team at my place of employment, which is great, as it comes with a rise in pay. I still don’t manage anyone, I get half of a person – and she’s awesome. But I guess I have been able to demonstrate that I can manage myself. It helps that my definition of salaried employee is that I get paid to get the job done, in contrast to an hourly employee who gets paid to do his job. Period. He/She only gets paid from signing in to signing out and everything over is “overtime”. Salary doesn’t quite work that way, but as far as I’m concerned, it all works out I think. I firmly believe it all comes out in the wash anyway, so here’s to laundry day!

Sunday Night Blog, Post 3

Over the course of the week, I had tried to think of a subject to write about this week, but I wasn't having a lot of success. Then I just started looking around me and the phrase "ignorance is bliss" kept popping up. It's not, is it? To be fair, I have a bit of an issue with that particular saying. For the most part it's actually quite an ignorant one. Literally.

Innocence is the blissful state. To not have experienced anything: no loss, no joy. Utterly devoid of anything on the "outside" of one's own self - that's what's blissful: pure, guiltless, harmless (according to Collins). In that same dictionary, the first definition of ignorance is disregard. Disregard is about choice. Ignorance is about choice. Ignorance is knowing better, knowing the right course to take, the right decision to make, but choosing not to. What one turns a blind eye to doesn't need to be anything earth shattering or have global implications. Over time, it dulls the senses of the individual who thinks he/she's protecting him/herself from something they just don't want to see. It's like teaching yourself not to care about anything other than yourself and what you hold dear. That's not a way to live and it's not something I care to pursue either.

Serendipitously, this afternoon I heard someone say: "Ignorance is a curse. It takes courage to do something about it." I couldn't agree more. I challenge anyone reading this to reflect on this, and to at least consider doing something about it.

Sunday Night Blog, Post 2

This past week has been an eventful one. In the vein of “be careful what you wish for”, I received a Games-time offer. I’m to be an NOC assistant for the nation of Ethiopia based in Whistler for the entire duration of their stay in BC: 22 days. Wow. It’s still sinking in. This is major.

I knew Jamaica had a bobsleigh team, so a Saharan country participating in the Olympic Winter Games is not what I would call a shocker. I kind of thought I’d be doing a European country, seeing as I am fluent in German, grew up in Europe, and have a smattering of Italian, Spanish, and French. But Europe tends to mean many powerhouse winter sports nations, most of which are going to be arriving as soon as they are permitted to arrive and leaving on the last possible date. My availability despite linguistic matches didn’t work then, so enter the non-obvious countries. What on earth does Ethiopia compete in? I went to the Vancouver 2010 Web site and there isn’t a list of what sports qualified countries are competing in, that would have been useful. From what I’ve heard, qualifications are ongoing, and will be until late January, so perhaps things are still in flux. I would assume, bearing in mind the larger implications of using the word, that as a neighbour to Kenya, known for their endurance running athletes, that Ethiopia would have a similar focus, so perhaps the endurance events such as cross-country skiing or biathlon. Seeing as both of these are based in Whistler, this would be a logical conclusion.

Then there’s the part about me working for a living, with print deadlines and things. Fortunately, the timing would work so I would only miss a couple of classes at University, because they’re shutting down for two weeks on an extended reading break, and I could take all of my reading with me (note-taking buddy will hopefully get worked out in January). But work-wise, if I’m based in Whistler, then I can’ t go to work on days off, even for a few hours because a good 6 hours of that one day off would be spent in transit, either by bus or whatever other transportation options are available. I don’t have the software on my computer that I would need so I could theoretically do it remotely, so that part is a bit of a mess. It’s weird. Most of what I do has to do with electronic communication and transmission, and yet, I can’t feasibly do it without being on site. Maybe Whistler would have a business centre that has Microsoft Publisher or InDesign available on a computer or something. I’ve been told in no uncertain terms, there will be no one doing my job whilst I’m away. The joys of being a one-woman department without actual department status, I suppose.

I wouldn’t see my apartment (or be able to water my plants for 3 weeks). What if there’s a water leak of some kind? What if the heating blows up or something? What if my PVR melts down? Going to Whistler (I’ve been there maybe 4 times in my life) gets me quite a bit out of my comfort zone. And then there’s me: the pasty white, undertall, blonde-haired pudgy person looking after all of these no-doubt tall, lanky athletes. I’m getting a distinct Laurel & Hardy visual. You?

Logistics and over-thinking aside, I have no doubt this will be an exceptional experience. Truly one-of-a-kind, and I would actually be needed. Smaller teams get fewer Assistants and “my country” would rely on me a great deal. There’s not a doubt in my mind I wouldn’t be welcomed, but not being up on “local knowledge”, I wouldn’t want to disappoint. Any connections or local expertise I have is limited to Vancouver, so I’ll have to let my fingers do a lot of the walking up in Whistler. Or, get a couple of “field-trips” in before-hand.

Sunday Night Blog, Post 1

So, I was looking forward to launching a Sunday Night Blog on the 1st of November. I figured it was about time I got some use out of my blog, and although I truly am not a journal writer, I figured a weekly thing was something I could commit to. Then I had to decide on when and Sunday seemed an ideal candidate. Weeknights are not the greatest for me as I can barely be inspired to do my reading for school – and I pay for that privilege. If I did Saturdays, that’s really no good either because on the odd occasion I do actually have plans. So Sunday – and the first of a new month to boot, well, wasn’t that auspicious. As you can see, not a lot came of it.

I could cite spotty internet connectivity at home as an excuse, because it has been a bit of an issue of late, but, in all honesty, I plum forgot and spent most of the day getting the memory down on my PVR, which concluded with a recent film adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s Tess of the D’Urbervilles. It was my first exposure to Thomas Hardy, and for an English Lit. Major, I thought that was odd, to say the least. Being interested in literature, I have heard the name mentioned many times, and seen the titles of his novels on library shelves and reading lists, and yet, here we are. Obviously Victorian, I wonder how contemporaries felt about it.

In today’s mode of thinking, the poor girl had no chance and one traumatising experience ends up tainting her entire life, robs her of her future, and the past not staying in the past is always the cause of the next chain of unfortunate events. I think it also questions how we view independence as a concept. In the film, Tess’s independence is mentioned many times, but her ability and desire to stand on her own two feet is always at odds with her reality and her environment. I consider myself independent, fiercely independent even, but in Tess’s case, her circumstances, societal amongst other factors, those things beyond her direct control, have a hold on her so firmly, that her independent spirit is how she travels from jess to jess, never actually losing the fetters binding her, regardless of who’s holding them. Breaking free, only to be captured again and again, it’s like she’s ultimate prize bird, because everyone wants to keep her, for differing motives and purposes, and all she wants is...I don’t know. I don’t believe she ever said what she really wanted, other than to be with Angel Clare. Could it really be that simple?

At this point I would really like to read the book. It sounds like a complex story, and there’s only so much a cinematic screenplay can convey and address. Or maybe I just don’t want it to be that simple, so conventional.

More next week - circumstances willing.