All The Colours

Saturday, I went to an evening of mixed dance presented by The National Ballet. It started with the classical Allegro Brillante (Balanchine) and ended with the modern Chroma (McGregor). Allegro is described as "ballet distilled" with Balanchine showcasing classical ballet in a 15 min. piece set to Tchaikovsky's Third Piano Concerto. So everything was there: the corps choreographed movement, the pas de deux, the solos. It was all very pretty but I don't really enjoy watching these non-narrative classical performances; there's something antiseptic about them.

Carousel (Wheeldon) did a better job straddling the line. Because of the lushness of the score from the musical Carousel, it was easy to incorporate classical movements. But as it was set in 50s America with young lads in denim and ladies in poodle skirts, some "modern" whimsy enlivened the piece. For example, the male dancers spinning their partners like pinwheels, carrying them like merry-go-round horses, or engaging in a quick waltz. The pas the deux did not have the same immediacy as the groupwork and dragged on too long.

There was also some whimsy but mostly bleakness in The Man In Black (Kudelka). Set to 6 songs covered (not written) by Johnny Cash, it borrowed elements of Western and square dancing. 3 male dancers and 1 female, in jeans and cowboy boots, continually moved around the stage. Sometimes they clipped clopped like a stagecoach, at other times manipulating each others' limbs; there was even some "line dancing" for the last song. They formed tableaus and numerous configurations. It was modern but "accessible" and a bit winking, too.

Chroma (McGregor) is unabashedly modern. Set inside a brightly lit box, both the men and women wore identical unisex clothes, and danced furiously to music from the White Stripes and composer John Talbot. Reviews often comment on the extreme extensions such as penchée that go beyond 180 degrees. But for me, it was the various pas de deux and trois that impressed. When done well, such as the pairing of Evan McKie and Svetlana Lunkina, it was exhilirating: both precised and wildly abandoned.

Hey, Hey

I keep missing the new restaurant Na Na. Once because I passed by the unassuming place unknowing, once because it was closed. But I was curious to try what the Globe and Mail restaurant critic called an uncompromising Thai restaurant. That is, a place that doesn't dilute its offerings for the blander North American palate. Finally on Saturday, I made it there for an early dinner.

In a nod to its "street food" offerings, Na Na had kitschy decor including fake tropical windows. Most apparent were the plastic stools and "sharing tables". I opted for the papaya salad ($8) and a pad prik king chicken ($15). The salad was a perfect combination of flavour: acidity from the lime, saltiness from a generous amount of fish sauce, earthiness from the peanuts and dried shrimp. The papaya and green beans gave it crunch and the cherry tomatoes imparted fresh bursts that cleansed your palate. I didn't find the chili (one of the hottest dish here) to be overwhelming like the review, merely a nice tingle. Overall, I haven't had a better dish in a while.

In contrast, the chicken main was a mild disappointment. At first, this "dry" curry dish was great. Closer to an Indian curry, it was rich and fragrant with highlights of lemongrass. But ultimately, it suffered from 2 issues. First, as it was mostly chicken with only a few small bean sprouts, the dish became one-note. Second, it was "restaurant seasoned" (i.e., very aggressively). Even the generous pile of white rice could not it tone down.

For "street food," it was a pricey meal with tax and tip. Na Na would be better as a take-out joint, especially if you don't want to sit cheek-to-jowl in a very busy spot. At home, you could add more vegetables and other side-dishes to ameliorate the entree and turn it into a more wallet-friendly 2 or 3 meals.

Annie Get Your Grunge

When I saw St. Vincent last summer, I could see that she was talented. But given the muddy sound and large crowd, it wasn't clear if her music was good. Wednesday night, I was able to see her up close at The Danforth Music Hall.

Though it was full for the main set, the venue was sparse for the 1st hour or so. So those of us who got there just after 8 pm were able to be right up front without long line-ups or jostling. The early crowd couldn't get a handle on the opener though. Performance artist Jenny Hval from Norway got a lot of head scratches. Over minimal beats and electronic noises, she did spoken word, fragmented singing, and even some full-throated screams. Combined that with a projection of looping videos of women caressing toilet paper or playing with bicycle pumps, most people didn't quite know how to react.

An interesting but not unusual choice to open for her, because St. Vincent's set also had much theatricality. It was obvious that her movements for each song was carefully choreographed (even if it wasn't Beyonce-level dancing). In addition, her speeches to the "geeks and freaks", throwing herself backward into the crowd, and even kissing a lucky fan during a solo, were likely all planned. It seemed odd at first, but only because we expect raw emotion from singers, which we don't demand of actors in plays or performers in musicals. But she had an overarching vision for her stage show about technology and modernity. Was the St. Vincent on stage a robotic simulacrum? Even her costume, a black, tight-fitting, leather cheong-sam made her seem more like molded machinery than flesh-and-blood. Having said that, there was also humour and spontaneity, such as her smiling response to a fan's incessant shout of "Fuck, yeah!"

The music was outstanding. Opening with Rattlesnake and Digital Witness, her songs ranged from head-banging rockers, to fussy angular prog-rock, and even quiet radio-esque ballads. Yet though the styles may seem superficially different, there was a strong voice and cohesion that made them uniquely St. Vincent's. Her precise guitar-work whether with crunchy chords, fluttering notes, or sneaky overtones anchored every song. It was a stellar concert by an assured artist. 

The Head and The Heart

The Live At Massey Hall series returned for its second year on Saturday. Showcasing Canadian talents, it provides them with an opportunity to play at this historic venue. The audience is rewarded exceptionally cheap tickets: $18.94 for all seats. Tonight, two male songwriters were showcased.

Hayden has been around for a while. As such, he was not only comfortable on stage, but with his easy manner and jokes, made the space felt intimate. Although there was a range to his music, as seen by an older song about a "murder with a bass guitar" (Bass Song), it was the tunes describing small moments that highlighted his stellar writing. Woody, a song about waiting for his cat, was quietly satisfying. While No Happy Birthday, a ballad to his non-verbal daughter, was hopeful but heart-breaking.

Dan Mangan had a bigger stage set-up. So his sound was fuller and sonically rich. There were several from his new album that channeled anger about the current climate of fear and greed. Yet in many ways, the arrangements didn't match his lyrics. Instead of distilling the emotional content, and being a foundation for his complex lyrics, the music often wandered into noodling and unsatisfying detours. There were some great ideas that started strongly but often fell apart at the end.