Fort York

I headed to the St. Lawrence Market area Wednesday night to catch some live music at C'est What. The small stage looked like someone's living room complete with fireplace.

First up was Noel Johnson, a songwriter originally from Calgary. He sang mostly from his upcoming album including Extraordinary, Hello Wonderful, and The Remedy (with a mash-up intro of Katy Perry's I Kissed A Girl). His band and himself played competent music. But it was radio-friendly Cancon material where every song had the same pacing and arrangement and didn't leave much of an impression.

In contrast to Johnson's laid-back style, Brandi Sydorik and her band Sidney York were all about excited and exuberant playing, evidenced by all the clapping and hopping around on stage. Songs from her two albums like Math and Fraction, Doctor Doctor, and Mile High Love straddled the line between sunny and pouty pop that can't help but make the audience happy. When people start going over to the merch table in the middle of your set, you've got some great tunes. Songs from her to-be-released album Hearts were more eclectic: from rocking Tear It Up, to synth-dance Electro Love, and atmospheric psych rock I Could Swim. With a large collection of instruments including ukelele, french horn, oboe, bassoon, there was interesting texture to both her old and new music.

Blue Monday

I dropped by Comedy Bar on Monday for some chuckles but it was a scarcity. The JokeBox hosted some local comics as well as two "lottery spots" for anyone brave enough to put their name into the jar. Host Natalie Norman introduced the acts and riffed on her lazy eye, current dating situation, and New Year's resolution. Joshua Elijah told jokes that, coincidentally, involve people who were missing fingers. Action Slacks improvised a low-key bachelor party, Steven Boleantu was The Shoddy Magician whose every magic trick eventually resulted in the appearance of a man's tie, and The Real True News did a much dirtier version of SNL's Weekend Update.

The headliners were Two Weird Ladies who combined some old skits from their Fringe hit (gossipy mavens, talentless office drones) with some new material (a shoplifter with high-end tastes). The evening was a bust as everyone was flat with long stretches of dead silence from the audience. It was interesting to note how casually misogyny was invoked: gendered insults, emasculation and feminization fears, and "slut-shaming". I understand why a female friend refuses to go to most comedy shows.

Praise The Lawr!

Saturday night, a small gathering came to the Tranzac for MINOTAURS cd release party. The evening started on a surreal note with mime-clown Foo, a "psychic" who spoke in non-sensical syllables. She wandered the floor doing mind-readings and then invited various participants up on stage for a one-on-one. Kashka (Kat Burns' new dance project) played some catchy pop. With 3-part harmonies and an excellent sound mix, the music was infectious while highlighting Burns' continued use of interesting imagery and enigmatic lyrics from her Forest City Lover days.

Before MINOTAURS, Nick Flanagan entertained the crowd with some stand-up comedy. It was a bit hit and miss, with most of his material coming from being broke and crashing on various friends' couches. MINOTAURS came on (almost in a "Play him off, keyboard cat!" way), 13 strong and headed by Nathan Lawr, to play 70s-style funk protest songs. Drawing from the new release, New Believers, Strange Fire, Windchimes In The Evening and Open The Doors had tight horn section, thrilling guitars and drums, and polemical lyrics. The songs got an enthusiastic reception from the crowd. The only negative was the odd decision to set up cabaret-style seating, when this music was meant for dancing. So despite several exhortations from band members, people stay planted in their seat or stood milling at the back behind the tables.

Men In Tights

I saw MacMillan and Hutton's Fairy Tale Ending at the 2010 Fringe. They are back with another fractured fairy tale called "Robin Hood: The Legendary Musical Comedy". Hart House Theatre was an appropriate venue for a medieval act, being buried underground, with curving archways and chandeliers. This new staging hewed closely to the myth: Robin of Locksley returns from the Crusades to find the people of England suffering under King John. He meets up with Little John, Friar Tuck, and with his Merry Men rob from the rich to give to the poor.

From this well-known myth, they have created a funny comedy with a vainglorious Robin (Daniel James), a dim-witted King John (Kevin MacPherson) and his long-suffering Sheriff of Nottingham (William Foley), a smarmy Tuck (Benjamin Kyte), blue-collar Little John (Andrew Dundass), and 1%-per-center Maid Marian (Jennifer Morris). Will Scarlet (Kelly McCormack) has been turned into a female rival to Marian as the hot-headed original leader of the Sherwood Forest bandits before they joined up with Robin Hood. The music was a pastiche of styles; though primarily musical theatre, there were also a tango number, a gospel song, and 80s Phil Collins-esque pop among others. There were a couple of sly digs at the genre including 2 send-ups of Les Miz. The fight choreography involving epees, wooden staves, sabers, and even some hand-to-hand was exciting and surprisingly professional.

In addition to the leads, there was a fairly large cast who sang and danced as poor people, evil goons, merry men, and even a pirate or two ("Every comedy is better with a pirate! Yarr!") There was a live band hidden off-stage. The irreverence and meta-comedy made the show consistently funny, but it also lessened the bite of darker numbers such as Poverty (God made you poor for a reason says the friar) and Generosity (there could be self-serving reasons for Robin to give to the poor). It also meant that this musical lacked the heartfelt sincerity of Fairy Tale Ending because of the deliberately hammy acting. Robin Hood was amusing, clever, and enjoyable if a bit overlong (the script could use a 10-15 minute trim).

Get With The Times

The Free Times Cafe is one of those long-standing Toronto eatery where you go for the classic and the familiar. I have eaten there numerous times. But when I ordered the Montreal smoked meat sandwich this Saturday, I noticed that even they have slowly updated their menu.

The smoked meat was as rich as fatty as always, and still a bit too salty. But there was chopped parsley on the rye. More noticeably, the coleslaw has evolved from standard pickled cabbage. The tartness has been reduced, though there was still enough to pleasantly counter the saltiness of the sandwich. It was more of a marinated salad with bits of carrots, celery, parsley, raw red onions and scallions. This was definitely an improvement over the traditional preparation, which could become a bit overwhelmingly sour after a while.

GoodFellas

Thursday night, local songwriter Bob Wiseman (ex Blue Rodeo) had his release party. The Tranzac was packed for an early show. One, it was a sit-down arrangement which takes up more space. Two, the musicians were set up on the floor and not up on stage. Finally, it seemed as if most of the local indie scene came out to support or play with him.

For the first set, Wiseman played on the piano, accompanied by a drummer and back-up singer, and occasional guest such as Ron Sexsmith. His songs were long and involved, as one can see by the lyrics projected behind him, often satirical with odd turns of phrase. Interestingly, the most affecting song was a cover of Children At Play, written by Sam Larkin, another local composer.

For the second set, a parade of local artists gave their own take on his music. Given the verbiage, most did quiet, contemplative versions including Drew Smith, John Southworth, and Megali Meagher with Jim Guthrie. Dwayne Gretzky added more driving punch to their covers. Only Mary Margaret O'Hara dove into the same avant-garde territory as Wiseman with squeals, grunts, and improvised singing. Even with such a playful performance, her pitch control and power outclassed everyone else if you listened past the odd vocalization.

P Brain

Sunday afternoon, the Royal Canadian Institute had a public lecture at the University of Toronto on the "limits of computation". To explore this notion of easy versus hard computation problems, Professor Emeritus Stephen Cook talked about "P vs NP" since he won the Turing Award for formalizing this issue. It was an interesting topic that went over most the heads of the audience.

It started simply enough: there are easy problems like addition and subtraction. There are hard problems that turned out to be easy. And there are hard problems that we're not sure about such as prime factorization (e.g., finding the prime factors of any number like 100 = 2 x 2 x 5 x 5). Things started getting a bit fuzzy when Cook talked about polynomial-time (P) problems (easy problems that can be efficiently solved) and non-deterministic polynomial (NP) problems (hard problems that can be efficiently verified, if some magic "oracle" gives you a solution).

Obviously, every P problem is an NP problem. If you can solve it, you can check your solution. And some NP problems turn out to be a P problem once a good algorithm was found. The million dollar question, literally, is whether that's true for every NP problems or are there some that will always be hard (P = NP or P ≠ NP)? No one actually knows but most would lean toward P ≠ NP.

To do so, Dr. Cook talked about his achievement which was the formalization of "NP-completeness". In other words, these are the "hardest" problems in NP. By the time he introduced the notion of p-reducibility, graph 3-colorability, and 3-satisfiability, most were lost. The graph coloring wasn't bad, since he presented a concrete problem: scheduling exams such that a student would not have a conflict in a given time slot. The exams would be the graph nodes, the different colours are the time slots, and an edge between two nodes indicate a (potential) conflict since a student is taking both exams. So the solution is to colour the nodes such that no two nodes that share an edge have the same colour. But the other 2 items were a bit too abstract for a general audience.

Finally, Dr. Cook discussed briefly about what it means if P = NP. The takeaway: computers would able to do some extraordinary things that would dwarf what has been achieved so far. But ask any computer scientist and they'll tell you it's probably a long shot.

Talk Talk

Kashka

After listening to Ana Egge, I headed down the street to The Garrison. There was an after-hours party Saturday night for a local TEDx conference. A number of locals bands were scheduled to play. Kashka was up first. This was the new project of singer Kat Burns (of now defunct Forest City Lovers). Previously, both her solo efforts and with FCL were often melancholic, introspective numbers. So it was a pleasant shock to hear pop and dance music from Kashka, complete with synth and drum machines. But she couldn't totally abandon her indie roots, as the songs' lyrics had greater depth than most pop tunes.

Kashka was the highlight of the night. Sandman Viper Command was next. Like other times, I couldn't get into their mix of indie pop with some funky bass and high singing. But the next band was a bit of a disaster. A new collaboration between DJ Menalon and singer Little Scream, they suffered from technical issues throughout their set. When their music could be heard, it was an atmospheric synthetic pop that wasn't too compelling. I thought about staying for the high energy retro-funk of The Magic but decided to join the small exodus leaving for the night.

Get Cracking

Saturday night, I dropped by The Dakota Tavern for an early show with folk/country singer Ana Egge. Before her band joined her, she opened with Hole In Your Halo. Thematically, she returned to this motif of wildness (Motorcycle) and nature (Bad Blood, Birds) throughout the night. Her music encompassed numerous genres but her pop or Americana sounds didn't stand out though her lyrics were usually interesting. She really shone when she sang country or blue-grass: her finger-picking on Talco Girl or the jangly rawness of her slide guitar on Swing Low, Sweet Chariot was wonderful. Egge was joined on stage for two numbers by Sun Bear's singer Kate Boothman.

Being one of those show that started promptly, I missed out on opening act Sun Bear. I did get a chance to hear Egge's guitarist tried out a few of his own material, a folky sound with jazzy hints.

Owens Heart

Gentleman Reg

On Friday, I checked out a concert at The Mod Club. Since they are primarily a party lounge, shows there start early. Opener Gentleman Reg came on at 7:45 pm. Because he was accompanied by just Kelly MacMichael on keys, it was a more laid back show even on dance numbers like We're In A Thunderstorm.

The headliner was Christopher Owens, lately of Girls. Although he has gone solo, his backing band numbering some 7 people was larger than his previous outfit. His abbreviated 30 minute set drew exclusively on the songs off his new album Lysandre. The songs varied from folk-pop, blues, and even a bit of country. But every song ended with a variation of Lysandre's Theme, first played like an English folk tune, eventually evolving into a rock riff.

Given the short set, he came back for a 4 song encore, starting with covers Wild World and The Boxer. These songs, and similar ones from album, showcased his greatest strength: using his slight sweet voice to sing earnest pop with simple lyrics and arrangements. Owens wasn't quite as convincing on more rock numbers or 80s-influenced pop, complete with sax solo.

The Kaarage Kid

Shio Ramen

After two instant ramen dinner this week (protip: roasted seaweed really classes it up), I decided to go for the real thing Friday night. There are many choices as a ramen invasion has taken over Toronto. The newest entrant, the only non-Japan outpost of Okinawan-based franchise Ryoji, had its grand opening tonight.

Despite the influx of new restaurants in little Italy, the typical decor remains old and old-world. Taking over from defunct Vecchio Frak, the owners have created a Ramen and Izakaya destination with  a young, trendy vibe. Although the typical Izakaya touches were there: long wooden tables, frenetic cooks over an open kitchen, and sake kegs encircling the bar, there were other interesting additions. For one thing, there were booths and tables for relatively more private seating. And the whole place was lit up with a wall of ryukyu electric lanterns like lighted church bells.

I got 3 dishes: Mimiga - boiled pigs' ears with peanut or chili sauce ($6), Takoyaki - octopus in a fried ball ($7), and Anno Aji - a lighter chicken and pork (shio) broth ramen bowl ($11). The mimiga came as thinly sliced pink strips, garnished with raw red onions. The chili sauce didn't add much; it'd probably be better to go with peanuts. This dish was mostly about texture and crunch. The octopus was garnished with seaweed, bonito, and bits of pickled ginger. Unlike other places, the inside was not batter but mashed potatoes. An interesting and tasty combination, but not a serious improvement on the classic formula.

Mimiga

Takoyaki

The ramen broth was lighter than other places. Perhaps to compensate, the pork had a thick strip of fat. Luckily, the whole thing melted in your mouth, and didn't have an overwhelming lard feel. It was a bit light on the sides with just a sprinkle of scallions and seaweed. The specially made "tondou" noodles had great mouth-feel and chew.

Everything was good except for the abysmal service. Whether it was the non-Japanese waitstaff's unfamiliarity with the dishes or the opening night's crush, it was not up to the usual excellent service at Japanese restaurants. My order took almost 1.5 hours in total, with large gaps in-between dishes. They were delivered out of order (eating the cold appetizer last wasn't fun), and to the wrong customers. I'm certain I got my neighbour's ramen, and vice versa. In fact, wrong delivery plagued all the diners around me. This should have been ironed out during any soft openings or trial dinners. I would suggest waiting for a month or more before checking Ryoji out. Hopefully, they'll have it fixed by then.

Somebody I Used To Know

Wednesday, I saw a powerful play called Someone Else (written by Kristen Thomson) produced by Crow's Theatre at The Berkeley Theatre. It tracks the disintegration of an 18-year-old marriage between physician Peter (Tom Rooney) and stand-up comic Cathy (Kristen Thomson).

The two originally met in their 20s/30s on a boat cruise. He was a reformed anarchist, turned medical student, and she was a brassy comedienne. Lately though, the fire seemed to have gone out of both their marriage and their personality. Peter also resented Cathy for including all the details of their lives in her act while she faulted him for shutting down emotionally. Once your partner's faults become irritation, everything is fair game: their relationship to their parents, your parents, your daughter (Nina Taylor as Vanessa), even mutual friends.

The situation was even more fraught with a developing affair between Peter and a 19-year-old patient named April (Bahia Watson). He was oddly drawn to her tough-girl demeanour and habit of cutting herself. There were intimations that this fascination might hearken back to his own youthful past.

The 3 main characters were compelling played, with emotional performances, and painful conversations. The culmination of this intensity was Cathy, going into her stand-up spiel, who became increasingly honest, frantic, and eventually unhinged as she unloaded all their burden onto her audience. In the background, David raced from door to door, looking for a ringing telephone.

A follow-up encounter with David (Damien Atkins), a shameful spectre from Peter's past was an unnecessary complication. The scene poured more emotional oil onto an already boiling plot. It paradoxically deflated the play: theatrical fatigue at work. A coda also killed some of the fire, by adding distance between us and Peter and Cathy. It would have been better to leave them where they were, with nothing resolved yet except their new-found honesty.

The set was an enormous white box, with 4 doors in the back, flanked by boxes and a recliner on one end (the Kirk's home), and functional office chairs at the other end (Peter's office). The stark stage, lit up by unforgiving white light, left no room for the characters to hide.

Sacre Pneus!

The French movie Holy Motors has been getting great reviews, all agreeing that it is a wonderfully odd beast, but also that it revels in its "artsiness". So I finally saw it at The Royal on Tuesday. The premise does seem strange: M. Oscar is driven in a limousine throughout Paris for 9 appointments. Before each set-up, he reads over a dossier. Oscar then dons theatrical makeup and clothes, and pretends to be variously: an old woman, a motion-capture test subject, a crazy homeless person who kidnaps an American model, and then it gets weird.

For myself, there were enough hints in the movie (for example, suggestions that some of the other people were also doing "appointments"), that you could come up with a consistent explanation for the movie's odd story. It could be something relatively simple or Lisa Simpson's reverse vampire level of complexity. It was a commentary on our ubiquitous video-recording and how social media and the internet has allowed us to inhabit diverse persona.

Alone In The Dark

A pharmacy has been sitting vacant at Bloor and Dovercourt for the better part of a year. It has now been converted into a multidisciplinary space called The Storefront Theatre just before Christmas. On Saturday, I went to its inaugural showcase, the 60s Broadway play Wait Until Dark, remounted by Red One Theatre.

I have seen the Audrey Hepburn movie and was curious to see it live. The play primarily focuses on Susy (Dayle McLeod), the blind wife of photographer Sam Hendrix (Jonathan Widdifield). He was duped by a con artist in Montreal into bringing back a doll stuffed with drugs. Unable to find the doll at the Hendrix's ground-floor apartment, 3 con men attempt to fool Susy into revealing its location. With her other senses, and her neighbour's young daughter, Gloria, can Susy see through their ruse before the situation becomes dangerous?

At first, there was some line recitation syndrome, but then the actors settled their roles. Dayle played the blind Susy with convincing realism. I would have liked to see more steely resolve creep in when Susy finally realizes her situation. David Tompa came off as a sympathetic Mike, an old "friend" of Sam. The fake cop, Sergeant Carlino (Brenhan McKibbion) needed crustier manners to go with that big 'stache. Tyrone Savage was a truly menacing mastermind, but has to tone down his impersonation of Roat Sr. and Roat Jr., which bordered on over-acting. As a prepubescent girl, it's hard for an adult to play Gloria. Claire Armstrong gave her best try, but it was hit and miss.

It was an exciting and fun thriller and I was engaged for the whole show. The only misstep was in a key scene where Susy, having thought she had outwitted Roat, had him turned the table on her. In the frenetic action, some of which took place in pitch darkness, it wasn't clear to the audience how Roat thwarted her.

The set was impressive for such a small company and space (48 seats). It did look like a 60s apartment. Walls facade were built to suggest a real flat, and allowed the actors to exit the scene. Kudos to stage manager Katerina Sokyrko and the rest of the design team for doing such a professional job.

Ryerson Eats

Just steps from the touristy Dundas Square near Ryerson campus, former owners of Khao San Road has opened up a chi-chi Thai restaurant called Sabai Sabai. On Saturday, I went for lunch to check out their latest offering.

From the outside, this restaurant didn't look much different from the tired businesses in the area. But inside, it was warm and cozy with padded booths and dark wood. Eschewing wooden statues and other traditional Thai decorations, they covered the walls with reproductions of vintage Thai posters extolling an auto race in 1939, Thai beer, or kitschy cartoon icons. An ice-cream/milk-shake neon sign blinked next to the kitchen.

Although the dinner menu was tapas-style dishes, the lunch options had simpler meal-in-a-dish. I ordered 2 appetizers: Papaya salad ($5) and Tom Yum Goong soup ($6.00). The soup had a good spicy kick, with plump shrimps and cherry tomatoes, and spiced with lemon grass and kaffir leaves. The papaya was thinly sliced and crunchy, with some raw green beans, soaking in a tamarind sauce. Both dishes were tasty but were also too tart; after 2-3 bites, they weren't too enjoyable.

The main, however, a rice dish with beef and potatoes in a massaman curry sauce, was delicious from start to finish. Both meat and potatoes were soft, just on the edge of falling apart. The curry was meaty, made even creamier with dollops of coconut milk. If you wanted more kick, a side dish of house-made chili oil should do the trick. It also came with a selection of crunchy pickled condiments.

The dinner menu also looks intriguing. For a large party, you can get a custom menu catering to your taste or diet restrictions if you book ahead. But you may need to have an in with the owners or chefs.

White Nights

To combat the dreary winter months, Damian Abraham of punk band Fucked Up decided to curate Long Winter, a monthly series of multidisciplinary shows at The Great Hall. On Friday, I went to the 3rd show of this season. The entire space, including the main venue as well as various other rooms in the building had different projects. The Conversation Room had improvised piano, "found" opera, and local indie video games. I tried my hand, rather unsuccessfully, at a music-based racing game called Dyad. There were paintings and art installations throughout the venue. Projected up on the ceiling of the main space was real-time Instagram photos. Off to the side, the installation Light Box had, inside a tin-foil dome, pithy affirmations appeared inside a glowing circle.

The musical acts were just as varied. Maloo (Maylee Todd) started the show on the main stage with some chill electronic songs. As it was still early in the evening, a few children gathered curiously at the front to watch her. In the much smaller Conversation Room, S.H.I.T. screamed their way through a punchy set. I was worried about the vintage piano as a mosh developed. Back in the bigger hall, Lisa Bozikovic vs. Thom Gill had the two musicians trade songs.

At first, people didn't quite know what to make of Light Fires, her dance songs, and 80s dance style. But they were soon won over and a packed dance party developed in the small space. At 10:45 pm on the big stage, Moon King came on to deliver some atmospheric but riff-heavy indie-rock anchored by the lead singer's counter-tenor. The now-full audience was in for a shock when Vag Halen took the stage at 11:30 pm.

Having missed out on their sets at The Silver Dollar and The Piston, both tiny venues, I had envisioned them to be a low-key all-female cover band of 80s rock. But whether it was their stated aim to "reclaim cock rock" for the queer/feminist set, or playing in front of probably their biggest crowd tonight, they brought the sonic power. Playing Van Halen with minor detours (Pixies' Tame, Guns'n'Roses Welcome To The Jungle), they screamed, riffed, soloed, and head-banged through their set matched by an increasingly enthusiastic crowd. The ladies wore standard all-black jeans-and-T of rock dudettes except for the singers. One had on a leather jacket and black masking tape across her breasts. The lead singer didn't even bother with that winking modesty. Clad in a sheer mini-dress, she dared you to take a gander. Without bras, and tiny panties that was also see-through, there was a lot to look at; David Lee Roth and his deep-V jump suit is not even in the same league.

Lee's Cup a Sheezer

The Canadian University Presses was holding its national conference and journalism students have descended on Toronto. Thursday night, they could be found at Lee's Palace for a dance party thrown by Young Lion's Music Club.

I don't wanna be an old man (anymore), but you forget how long you've left behind your university days until you are surrounded by college students. Was I ever that young, callow, and have such smooth skin? This age gap was apparent during the DJ sets especially from members of the band Rural Alberta Advantage. For every Robyn's Call Your Girlfriend, there were several that killed the groove on the dance floor and led to mini-exoduses. Even old hits such as Pulp's Common People and Jay-Z's Can I Get A fell a bit flat.

So how will this crowd react to headliner Sheezer, an all-female Weezer cover band? These kids were toddlers when Weezer came on the scene in the 90s. Amazingly, a large percentage knew most of the songs and not just big hits like Buddy Holly. And unlike typical Toronto audiences, they were into the live music. There were dancing, singing, crowd-surfing, and even some stage dives (although more of stage-lower-myself-gently). Weezer hand symbols appeared and morphed into spontaneous Sheezer symbols. Whether it was booze, youth, or foot-loose (80% came from out-of-town), they were there to have fun.

Sheezer opened the night with "The Sweater Song", replacing the song's banter with talk relating to the ongoing seminars and meet-ups. They ran through their standard set: Holiday, El Scorcho, The Good Life, and so on. But a heresy! Contrary to their oath to only play from Blue and Pinkerton, they debuted their cover of Hash Pipe from the 3rd Weezer album. The best quip of the night came from Dana Snell, who in response to a couple of over-enthusiastic moshers, dead-panned: "Don't touch my mic. I don't touch your typewriter". Nice one Dana (but they'd only use a "typewriter" if there was an app for that.)

Pot-O Finnish

Karelia Kitchen recently opened at the now defunct Burmese eatery, Mother Home. The co-owner and chef had made her way around the Arctic countries, and has decided to bring some of that Northern cooking back to Canada. This cafeteria-style diner, with its tan wood finishes, evokes that clean, minimalist Scandinavian feel. On Thursday, I checked out this newest restaurant to Bloor and Dufferin.

The service counters were divided into 3 sections: a dessert selection of shortbread, flan, biscotti, saffron cake, and various cookies. The lemon-lime cookie was buttery rich, with a subtle citrus flavour, and nicely light on the sugar. The middle area displayed smorrebrod: Scandinavian-style open-face sandwiches. Finally, the hot table had a daily selection of hot staples including beef stew and pork sirloin. With a smokehouse in the basement, there was also a variety of smoked dishes.

I ordered the Chicken Pot Pie ($10.95) with rutabaga and sauerkraut. The rutabaga was chewy but not too soft. The sauerkraut was mild and tasted more like a cooked item than the typical pickled condiment. The pie had a flaky crust with chunks of tender chicken and vegetables inside. I would have liked a creamier, richer sauce but overall it was a tasty main. A glass of fresh beet juice ($3.25) completed the meal.

The owner pointed out there was a difference between dining and eating. Karelia Kitchen is a great  neighbourhood addition in the latter category: a place where you can grab a quick bite after work or get some take-out for tomorrow's lunch. Bonus points to the owners for using local and seasonal ingredients.

Promise Land

On Sunday, I attended The Peace Maker (Pomme Grenade Productions) at The Factory Theatre as part of Next Stage. Based on her travels, playwright Natasha Greenblatt, has crafted a play about an idealistic young Jewish woman from Toronto and her experience with the Israeli/Palestinian conflict.

Sophie (Rebecca Auerbach) has arrived in Israel as part of the real-life Birthright program, where non-Israeli Jews are given a tour with the expressed hope of convincing them to move to the "Homeland". The play alternated between her time with Birthright, its voluble and insistent guide Ronen (Michael Rubenfeld), and a love interest in Israeli soldier Oran (Jeff Irving) and her stay in the West Bank with businessman Wael (Sam Kalilieh) teaching music to young Palestinians. She also developed a rapport with Wael's prickly daughter Haneen (Harveen Sandhu) and English translator Saif (Razi Shawahdeh).

The stage was divided into her classroom (a few chairs and a table) on the left, her bedroom (both in Tel Aviv and the West Bank) on the right, and an immense brick wall upon which were projected photos of her trip, various locations in Israel, and graffiti and martyr posters of dead Palestinians.

The central conflicts were one, how and why did Sophie moved from Israel to the "Occupied Territory" and two, can she make any meaningful changes with her vision of "peace through music"? The two came to a head after she was able to arrange for a performance of her group "The Horns of Freedom" in Jerusalem.

In the front row of the audience sat young musicians, who played as both Jewish and Palestinian bands, and provided the music throughout the evening: from traditional Jewish songs, to plaintive Arabic chants, to Europop group Ace of Base (a common point of interest). The actors played their roles well and with nuance yet they felt oddly two-dimensional to me. Then I realized that real lives, framed and informed by well-trod arguments and views about this conflict, have turned into talking points despite valiant effort by Greenblatt and her team. What a curious, and oddly deflating, feeling.

During the talkback, moderated by Evelyn Tauben, there was some talk about this issue of "Why should we [North Americans] care?" As an example, guest speaker Rabbi Miriam Margles (Danforth Jewish Circle), spoke about her group Encounter, which attempts to encourage more dialogue between Jewish leaders of varying political stances, among themselves and also with Palestinians.

A Goblin Walks Into A Bar

Smokeless Joe's is a small pub/diner on College St that, in keeping with its specialties of mussel dishes and selection of draft beer, evokes an Old World feel with exposed brick arches and wooden beams. On Saturday, before the matinee showing of Labyrinth, I stopped by for brunch.

I started off with some freshly shucked oysters ($2.75/each). Along with a selection of red-wine vinaigrette, cilantro hot sauce, and regular hot sauce, they went down smoothly and refreshing, except for one that was too briny. For my main, I ordered the salmon egg benny ($12). Not the kitchen's fault, but I learned a lesson for the New Year, salmon leaves an unpleasant aftertaste when combined with eggs and hollandaise sauce. The eggs themselves were perfectly poached and deliciously runny. A special mention for the fries: golden and crisp on the outside, soft and tender on the inside. This bodes well for Joe's poutine dishes.

The screening for Labyrinth was great. The effects, acting, and costumes may seem cheesy, but there was a sincerity and earnestness in these films that are often lacking in more recent movies. The physical props and puppets from the Jim Henderson workshop won't fool anyone, yet they felt more real. Perhaps because they had to be built and must obey the limitations of the real-world, as opposed to CG where anything is possible.

Music A Go Go

Taking a cue from the successful Friday Night at The ROM, the Art Gallery of Ontario started the 1st Thursday at the AGO last November. On the first Thursday of every month, an evening party is held at the gallery where you can mingle, eat, drink, look at some art, and listen to live music.

I checked out the New Year's Edition on Thursday. With 2000 tickets sold, it took about 20 minutes in line before I made my way inside. Since I haven't set foot in here since the major renovation, I was eager to see all the changes. The gallery felt much more expansive, with many wonderful pieces that were previously not on displayed. The curving front addition, with towering wooden beams like the curved ribs of some monstrous whale, was breath-taking. This space was taken up tonight with imbibers and curiosity seekers who gleefully participated in a paint-by-number class. The winding Nautilus staircases, both inside the gallery, and climbing out the building's rear face, gave lovely views of the city.

The main musical act was folk singer Basia Bulat in a solo performance. The stage was divided into 3 sections, separated by white semi-transparent screens. Although Basia sang a few songs at the other 2 mini-stages, she spent most of her time at the stage facing the back of Walker Court. This configuration blocked almost half the audience's views throughout the night, although they could look at the various multimedia offerings projected on the dividers by artist Stephanie Comilang. The collaboration idea was good, and its execution was fine, but what a poor set-up for a live show.

She started the night singing new song It Can't Be You unamplified and accompanied by her ukelin. Throughout her set, she would switch between multiple instruments: guitar, autoharp, hammered dulcimer, and piano. Basia debuted two other new songs including the first public performance of Five Becomes Four. But she also played tunes from her 2 albums such as Little Waltz, Gold Rush, and Snakes And Ladders. Most of the audience were unfamiliar with her music but they were won over by her rich vibrato and sweet demeanour.

Basia ended the show with one of my favourite, her acapella take on a traditional called Hush that she only performs live. I've seen it before, and this evening was just as powerful as ever. If she is retiring this song forever after tonight, as she informed us, then I am happy that I was standing only 3 feet from her as she let her voice soared. "Oh my lord", indeed!

Batman and Robin

The first night of Comedy Bar's Festival of New Format, I went to a free show called Dynamic Duo. Two performers who have never collaborated would put their heads together for our amusement. MCs for the evening were Becky Johnson and Pat Thornton, who pretended all night to be enthusiastic but clueless hosts.

The first pair was the funniest of the evening. David Dineen-Porter and Kathleen Phillips played two cowpokes who, instead of a High Noon shoot-out, decided to one-up each other in a talent competition. Adrianne Gagnon and Bob Banks initially stumbled over an improv skit about a couple's date at an aquarium but then found their stride. Laura Barrett and Robert Dayton sang in a musical improvisation about postal workers Murray and Murray (no relations) and also their Reiki massage parlour. Parody songs are hard to do and they had the weakest skit of the night.

Freddie Rivas and Andy Hull convincingly played two 16 year-old teens, who took questions from the "geriatric" audience about the latest cool stuff from twexting (tweeting your sms), to creating viral videos, and "how old is too old to date". Jon Blair and Henri Fabergé were two hype men who talked game better than they could rap. Unfortunately, their white-guy "hip-hop" schtick was too similar coming on the heels of the previous act. Alana Johnston and Dan Galea ended the night with comic impressions. She did one-line takes on all the previous performers and he spouted nonsensical folksy Dr. Phil wisdoms ("You're trying to buy that cat with dog money"). The impressions started out funny but progressed into a series of inside jokes.

No More Waffling

On New Year's Day, I headed over to The Starving Artist for brunch. This small diner near Lansdowne and Bloor specializes in waffles: egg benny waffles, bacon waffles, and all imaginable combinations. Small tables were squeezed opposite the open kitchen, with empty front and back patios for the winter. Paintings of comic-book superheroes dotted the wall.

I ordered the Monte Cristo ($11), generous slices of ham and mozzarella stuffed in between soft French Toast waffles, and a fruit salad side. The ham had been grilled and had a pleasant smoky flavour. The waffles did taste like French Toast with cinnamon and icing sugar. I would have liked a stronger egg and milk base to really evoke that breakfast staple. The fruit salad was so-so: a collection of bland, grocery store offerings.

In With The New

In previous years I stayed in for New Year's in quiet Ottawa. But having returned early to Toronto, I decided to go out this year. Outside of the dressy galas, the buzz seems to be at Palais Royale for Dwayne Gretzky. But with a sold-out venue, one of the 700 tickets would be hard to come by. So I headed to the Tranzac for a smaller affair. Numerous acts played in both the larger main venue and the smaller lounge.

All-girl Weezer cover band Sheezer went on at 8:45. It might seem odd that such a "party" band would open but Robin Hatch (also with Dwayne Gretzky) had to skedaddle for her other gig. It was an abbreviated set that saw the girls playing in sparkly evening wear. There was a respectable crowd for such an early slot but without true Weezer fanatics, sing-alongs didn't happen.

Language-Arts (Kristen Cudmore) was the love-child of Grimes and Lisa Loeb. Having just arrived from the airport, with her dog stashed away, she played confessional tunes with passages that saw her layer her vocals and guitar riffs in harmonizing loops. She loved to contrast slow refrains with rapid, densely worded verses. Her voice was sweet but there were pitch problems in the upper register.

Sunparlour Players was a two man band that between them, played every instrument, sometimes literally. In one song, the singer was playing guitar while keeping a beat on the bass drum while his bandmate tapped a bass guitar with one hand and played a xylophone with the other. They were best when they pared down to either folky guitar or bluesy beats.

With Emma Tollefsen behind the skins and Kelly McMichael on vocals and keyboards, Gentleman Reg should just rename his band Gentleman Rouge. Their dancey live performance, even on slower numbers, finally got the crowd grooving. Well, mostly the young women. The men still restricted themselves to head nods. Reg's winking promise to be an even "bigger slut" for 2013 was reflected in his lyrics, which were often about relationships that didn't end well.

I wanted to stay for The Bicycles, a defunct pop band from 2007, and Rouge. But it was already past midnight and I had to get to a house party thrown by a neighbour.