Keyboard Confessional

After my trip from Toronto, I was back to remote working in Ottawa with a daily walk around the neighbourhood. I have taken to listening to audiobooks on my stroll to drown out the car noise. Since last year, I've realized that Ottawa was a dirtier city than Toronto. I saw litter everywhere, and not just bags of chips or pop cans, piling up on sidewalks, parks, and even lawns and driveways. The lack of public garbage receptacles and city staff cleaning up were likely the main culprit. But perhaps something about Ottawa turn people into jerks: strewn detritus only steps from people's homes; multiple encounters with people who threw empty containers to the ground; and dog poop (and bags of dog poop?!) left in the grass (and once on a tree branch).

I decided to pay for whole-life insurance after a lengthy meeting with my advisors. I accepted their main argument that it was essentially a better-than-average GIC. Later in life, I could access the cash value or simply leave any gains tax-free for beneficiaries. As someone who left their money under a digital mattress for more than a decade, I'm not exactly a poster-child for aggressive investing. The rest of my money was now invested in the stock market, and the volatility was shocking. At the end of April, my market value was thousands of dollars in the red. Now a few weeks later in May, I was thousands in the black. It was all "unrealized" gains or losses but I still try not to access my banking information too often for peace of mind.

As my mom was in Toronto this Mother's Day week-end with some friends, I decided to go to a concert at the NAC 4th stage on Saturday. The first and only time I saw opener Mikhail Laxton, he was supposedly living in Toronto and collaborating with artists like Lydia Persaud. But tonight he told the hometown crowd he has been in Ottawa for 8 years. I liked this set better than the one at The Drake Underground. Instead of cliché songs about exes and new flames, he sang about his alcoholic absentee father, the rough worker's hotel in his Australian hometown, and working-class life.

I hadn't seen headliner Maia Davies in a decade. It turns out after 7 years, her all-women rock band Ladies Of The Canyon called it quits. Ms Davies then became a professional songwriter, penning a dozen top-ten hits for a variety of artists. She also released 2 solo albums in French. But leaving her abusive partner, who also gave her "access" to studio work, left her at rock-bottom mentally and professionally (blacklisted from the corporate music industry). Maia drove cross-country to L.A. to stay in Venice Beach. During the pandemic years, she holed up with her bubble of artistic friends in California, where the genesis of her new album Lovers' Gothic was formed.

These details came out in long stories during a set that Davies said was both a performance and a healing/therapy session from "TMI Maia". It was no surprise that her idols included Tori Amos and Kate Bush as her new songs had similar musical intricacies and vocals that swooped and soared. A lifetime of choir practice and classical music training as well as her experience as touring musician, producer, and songwriter were evident. There was a craft to her music that, without compromising its emotional heft, could be lacking in younger musicians.

That's A Wrap

Trips to Toronto often involved delicious food not available in Ottawa. But last week's visit was disappointing culinary-wise except for the first meal, perhaps because I was relying on Toronto Life's recent list of "cheap eats". A few months back, they published an article that named The Danforth and several areas near Yonge and Sheppard to be the top 10 neighbourhoods in Toronto. This risible take had me wondering if the staff were transplants and don't actually know much about The Big Smoke. Likewise, several well-known entries on that cheap-eats list already had me rolling my eyes. I should have listened to my gut instinct and skipped the rest.

Returning from Burlington after my solar eclipse watch on Monday, I headed to the Baldwin area of Kensington Market. Unfortunately, Takoyaki 6ix was closing up for the day. So I headed to the busy Spadina and College intersection. In a building with one of the few remaining internet gaming café and next to the Burger King on the corner, there was an outdoor ATM. It was then boarded up for a long time before someone tried a tiny coffee kiosk, then a coffee/drinks/ice cream location. Now, Corner Crepe was taking a shot with offerings of Chinese crepe or Jian Bing Guo Shi.

I opted for the traditional one ($6.99). The crepe was large for the price and stuffed with eggs, salad, scallion, and cilantro. But it was bland and boring despite the spicy sauce. Maybe the addition of sausage or other add-ons ($3.99) would add more flavour. The one bright spot was the texture contrast between the soft crepe shell and the crunchy wonton crisp. I liked it better than the Japanese crepe at Millie Creperie but it wasn't the revelation that was long defunct Qian He.

Before I headed to the Chess tournament at The Great Hall on Tuesday, I went back to Baldwin to try a vegan Egyptian spot called Eat Nabati. Most of their pita wraps contained tahini but I decided to risk an allergic reaction with a Cauliflower Za'atar ($7.99). Sadly, the fried floret wasn't flavourful and the rest of the veggie ingredients, though fresh, didn't justify a pita that was 40% smaller than most shawarma places. While eating my lunch, I thought that I'd prefer vegan versions of the Egyptian street food from Tut's.

My last attempt at a tasty meal came after a dance recital Tuesday night. I knew that Lahore Grill was opened late. Two years on from my last take-out there, it was still one of the best South Asian place I've been to. I hopped on a Carlton street-car that would take me directly there along Gerrard St. Unfortunately, 3 blocks into my ride, the driver had to stop the vehicle because one of the passengers, passed out in their seat, needed a wellness check from EMS. With this emergency blocking all traffic eastbound on Gerrard, I returned to Parliament and took an alternate route back to my rental. By then, I was too hungry to wait for the Greenwood bus that could also drop me off at Lahore. While I ate the last slice of bianca from the nearby Pizzaiolo, I reflected on the bad timing. If I had arrived at the Parliament and Gerrard stop 20 seconds earlier, I would have caught the previous street-car.

Mixed Company

Saturday night, I barely made it in time for a dance recital at Citadel & Compagnie at Dundas and Parliament. Toronto transit was frequent and relatively speedy, but I underestimated the travel time from my stay at Coxwell. I was rushing in so I didn't get a chance to wander through the former Salvation Army building. But it looked fairly spacious with a lounge/bar area and a dance stage. The seats were plastic chairs crammed tight, reminding me of the set-up of Storefront Theatre back in the day.

The site was hosting a new two week dance showcase of mostly local talent called Spring Mix. With her connections to Quebec, artistic director Laurence Lemieux was also bringing several companies from Montreal. I was looking forward to it since my only exposure to Citadel was a live event over Zoom during the pandemic.

All four pieces were contemporary but the two that got the best responses were grounded in traditional forms. The first piece was Hannah Kiel's "pas de deux" for 2 National Ballet apprentices. This was the shortest and most unsatisfying. Whether due to its length or Kiel's own temperament, it was chaotic and frenetic. The piece lacked motif, repeated phrasing, and mirrored movement that typically give structure to a dance. This was important for a contemporary number that introduce a new "vocabulary" to the audience.

Kala Dance Collective was rooted in the Indian dance Bharatanatyam. It started with a long section where the dancers were mostly seated. You might not be aware of the full significance, but their facial expressions, arm movement, and finger positions (Mudras) told stories. Later, they flowed through the stage with quick slides, spins, and Kathakesque feet taps. If I had to guess, all the dancing was classical but the narrative was modern.

Samantha Sunderland's 4-person piece had more structure in its contemporary choreography, with her dancers struggling to break free from the grasps of hooded individuals. This piece's shortcoming was giving equal time to all the performers in solos and pairs. So it dragged a bit with stretches where the dancing seemed to lack purpose and ideas.

The final piece, a solo by Sofi Gudiño, got the most engagement. People were chuckling at the start as Gudiño wandered the stage, checking out the dressing room mirror, looking at the lights, trying out steps at various locations. This "backstage" intro led to two dynamic sections. They started in tights and a short flamenco jacket. Their movement was masculine bravado with feet stomps and sharp arm bends. Gudiño winked and blew kisses to the crowd. Then an assistant came on to help them into a pink "Gitana dress" with a long train. Their dance became more fluid and included high heel kicks so that the train could be flipped up and spun behind them. The audience gave delighted gasps when Gudiño gathered the layered, frilly hem above their head, forming a ruffled structure that, like Georgia O'Keeffe's flower paintings, could be interpreted in different ways. The synthwave score was an interesting contrast to the sharp strumming of traditional flamenco music.

It was a great end to a fun evening of dance. I didn't stick around for the meet-and-greet. I had skipped dinner so it was time to look for some food. 8:30 wasn't that late but many restaurants in Toronto do close or wind down around 9 pm.

The Kings Of Queen St

Tuesday morning, I headed north up Coxwell for a short stroll. I usually avoid arterial roads due to car noises but I wanted a change from walking along Danforth Avenue. I thought it would be a concrete jungle like Dufferin or Ossington in the West End but Coxwell was more like an ok Dovercourt Rd. That is: with the houses set back from the street with green lawns, it was nicer than Dovercourt north of Bloor but it wasn't quite the pleasant tree-lined boulevard of Dovercourt south of Bloor.

Near O'Connor there was a cluster of businesses. You can always tell where the downtown of former villages used to be by the block or two of stores amid the residential homes. Of course, 150 years ago, they wouldn't have had Sushi or Greek restaurants. I wanted to check out this area during my sublet in 2022. I never got around to it and don't recall which restaurant was on my to-do list.

I also wanted to visit the series of connected parks and green space around here so I looked for a pedestrian entry. One of them, Taylor Bryant Park, was nestled among the chi-chi houses of Taylor Drive. A series of steep stairs led me down to Taylor Creek. Looking back, I should have taken the walking trails to Woodbine or even Victoria Park. But I headed west to the Don Valley. This wetland strip was a bit of nature amid the urban landscape but it wasn't particularly pleasant. Firstly, the noise from the DVP highway mostly drowned out the Don river or any other natural sounds. And secondly, you were committed to a long walk as there was no exit until past the Millwood Rd bridge at Beechwood. I then headed south along traffic-heavy Broadview until I was back at Danforth before double back to my rental. This accidental 11 km walk took almost 2.5 hours to complete.

After a quick washing up, I jumped on the subway to the first event of the day: the Fide Chess Candidates at The Great Hall. The top players from 2023 competed in classical chess for 3 weeks. The winner would face the current champion later in the year. It was the first time The Candidates was played in North America and the first time ever that both the Open and the Women's Candidates took place at the same time and in the same location. I wasn't a huge chess fan (nor a good player) but this was the sort of random event that I used to attend because Toronto was a big city full of interesting activities.

It turned out to be a let-down. Though my ticket claimed that I had a window from 2:40-4:30 pm to watch the players from the balcony, you had to be there by 2 pm. There was no "late-comers" or any sort of rotating entry policy. There was also a "no camera and phone" restriction. I wasn't the only one caught flat-footed by this strict rule.

Supposedly, this was to give the players a quiet environment to compete. But given that media was walking around on the main floor with cameras while VIPs (those who paid for pricier packages) can enter and leave at any time, I doubt these policies were meaningful. In any case, we all shuffled into the fan-zone in the basement to watch the matches on TV monitors. I hung around listening to the commentaries, watched some amateur games, and bought a t-shirt as a souvenir. I headed out after about an hour as it was too sunny an afternoon to be inside watching a screen.