Still Thrill

With Halloween tomorrow, all-female Weezer cover band Sheezer was holding their 5th annual Halloween bash at Lee's Palace Thursday. As before, they enlisted several female acts as opener. Instead of a graduate of Girls Rock Camp Toronto like in the past 2 years, The Lonely Parade came from Girls Rock Camp Peterborough. This trio played music that was somewhere between punk and math rock, lots of hard-driving chords interspersed with multiple changes and syncopated riffs. As a punk band, they have the noisy chops. But if they are adding more complexity to their music, they will need to be crisper and less sloppy, especially in the interactions between the 3 members. However, songs like Hey Felix show promise.

Petra Glynt is the strangest invitee to a Sheezer show as yet, and tonight's crowd didn't know how to react to her noisy loops and synth. I saw her at a Long Winter show, and was interested to hear her with a better sound system. Her classical voice training came through in a rich resonant tone. But she was more interested in building layers of cacophany sitting on top of primal, driving beats pounded out by her on the bass tom. Her newer songs, which explored more poly-rhythm and less chaotic droning, were definitely more accessible. If you can tap your toes to it, even a skeptical crowd can enjoy avant-garde compositions.

The song Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down) signaled the entrance of the ladies of Sheezer. No wonder, since this year their costumes came from Tarantino's kung-fu homage: The Bride (Robin), high-school bodyguard Gogo Yubari (Alysha), Yakuza boss O-Ren Ishii (Dana), and sadistic nurse Elle Driver (Laura). These were attractive outfit, especially Laura's peek-a-boo nurse uniform, and came perilously close to the "sexy costume" trope. This led them to humorously riff on next year's costumes, perhaps a Twin Peaks homage with a "sexy David Lynch".

Unlike other Sheezer shows, there were no later Weezer songs (like Hash Pipe) tonight. It was all Blue and Pinkerton (Tired of Sex, Buddy Holly, Say It Ain't So) much to the delight of the crowd who sang, chanted, and clapped along. With die-hard Weezer fans in the front, even the less popular tunes had a good number who knew all the words. A mosh pit formed now and then, to the slight consternation (fun but scary!) of some less bro-ish fans. Halloween costumes weren't just limited to the band members. So Andrew WK, a tin woman, a mucho libre, and two Airdancers joined them on stage for Undone (The Sweater Song). This led to the delightful scene of the two mascots (complete with flailing arms) who, with the crowd's exhortation, stage-dove and were borne aloft. I don't know if an actual Weezer concert would be as much fun.

Setting: Dance Hall

Entering random contests means you sometimes win unexpected prizes. So I went with my free tickets to the Danforth Music Hall on Wednesday night for some dance music. It was a sparse crowd simply because of the venue's large size. There were 4 acts including 2 DJs. Though there was some dancing, most people were mostly inert for their sets.

The crowd was more welcoming of Chela, a singer from Australia. Armed with a Mac, some synth, and an excitable drummer, she ran through a quick set of dance songs. The arrangement was sparse but propulsive: mostly drums, some bass, and some skittering chords or riffs. Without a lot of melodic backing, she did wander a bit off-key. Understandable since most people struggle to stay on-key without chord accompaniment. Perhaps there are "chord" tracks for singers similar to a drummer's click track.

The head-liner was also from Australia, a duo called The Presets. I was interested to hear "actual dance music" as opposed to the current synth-pop cross-over fad from indie musicians (Austra, Metric, Kashka). It became clear that it was musically less complex in arrangement and beat. On the other hand, it was easy to dance to and simple to mix into a flowing, non-stop set. They covered their hits such as Young Man and This Boy's In Love. It could be dull watching two people fiddling knobs and banging metronomically on synth pads. Luckily, they had an interesting light show.

In addition to the venue's lights, their stage setup included dozens of hexagons laid out in honeycomb shapes. They provided lights and effects for the show including numerous colour changes, moving patterns, and dazzling pulses and flashes. I'm guessing the technology is quite similar to sending graphics commands to a computer monitor and a specialized controller would convert the instructions to coordinate the hexes. It was too bad no one snuck in a video game reference. I was hoping for an homage to Nibbles (the QBasic snake game installed on every PC) or perhaps Q-Bert.

I was probably too old to really love tonight's music. But I did sneak in a move or two, as much as my creaking body allowed.

The Agony of the Eat

I was unhappy with Tuesday's municipal election results. Toronto was still in the grips of right-wing ideologues and its city council remained woefully unrepresentative of its diversity. What to do but drown my sorrow in comfort food. So I headed to Essen, a new diner at Dundas and Dovercourt. True, I'm not Jewish but this spot does offer family-style fare.

The inside was spacious but bare-bones. A few knick-knacks adorned the wall along with a collection of Bar Mitzvah portraits. Similar to most Jewish eateries, the menu skewed Eastern European (Ashkenazi) such as beef briskets and chopped liver. But unusually there were nods to the Middle East (Sephardic) with falafel platters and the use of Israeli ingredients in dishes. There were also fusion entrees including Jewish ramen (with matzo balls and kreplach!) and banh mi.

I opted for some pickles ($5) and a schnitzel platter ($16). First came some complimentary pita and hummus. The pita wasn't fresh from the oven a la District Oven but still good. The dip was light and fresh so I finished the whole thing, even knowing I'll break out in red spots later. The main was quite substantial, I was fairly full at the end. The chicken schnitzel was crispy and nicely spiced. Unfortunately, the cabbage rolls and its rice stuffing needed a firmer hand. It went ok with the variety of pickles (beet, green beans, egg) but was bland on its own (and a bit stringy). Tonight's green was rapini sauteed with garlic and with a spray of chili peppers. A good side dish, but I like my greens bitter.

Essen is a nice spot with some tasty dishes. I'll have to definitely come back for the ramen (which I assume would not use a pork-based broth). It is opened for both dinner and lunch/brunch.

Armed and Flangerous?

Sunday night, I dropped by Lee's Palace for a night of female-fronted bands. First up was local punk-pop outfit BB Guns. They were the most energized of the 3 groups. Songs such as Bang and (She Thinks She's So) Soho were fast and furious, with multi-part harmony and crunchy guitar. There were also lots of bopping around, except for the keyboard player, who was probably 8-months pregnant.

Ex Cops of Brooklyn promised a melding of noise with 90s pop. But they had trouble with their synth. So it was down to a guitar, some drums, and the harmony of Amalie Bruun and Brian Harding. But it was a let-down: an abbreviated set played mostly in the dark. For whatever strange reasons, the house lights were dimmed for this middle set. Without the pop layering of their recording, and not much to look at, the crowd responded with tepid applause.

Dum Dum Girls have definitely gone more pop than surf-punk since I saw them a few years ago. In tight dresses and exhibiting cool mien for the most part, this girl group was a match for their mid-tempo music (Bedroom Eyes, Lost Boys and Girls Club). Lead singer Dee Dee Penny channeled the aloof women of Robert Palmer's Simply Irresistable even at her most plaintive. Their sweet harmony (much more prominent live) elevated songs such as Coming Down. They did reach back in their catalogue for punkier I Got Nothing and He Gets Me High as well as a soft cover of Strawberry Switchblade's Trees and Flowers. Overall, it was an odd vibe for the night. The fans obviously loved the music, and even danced now and then, but there was a distance between the band and the crowd. Even if one pony-tailed dude ascended to heaven after Penny sang directly to him for a few lines, their set felt detached.

Burbs Blurbs

Over the last two week-ends, I spent some time in the suburbs. They were nice enough but only served to convince me that I'm an urban person through and through. Before leaving Ottawa, I visited some friends. We headed to Fusion, an all you can eat sushi place in Kanata. Incredibly, this suburb is no longer at the edge of the greater Ottawa area. Bedroom communities have sprung up in Stittsville and other places.

AYCE sushi has come a long way. They all offer other options including dim sum, Korean dishes, etc. The quality isn't bad. But with prices creeping up to $35, it doesn't seem like such a good deal. Although with kids in tow, there's a good chance you can find something for them. The special dishes here included dessert sushi. These were ice cream stuffed inside Vietnamese fresh roll. We all agreed that if you wanted a chewy ice cream dessert, they might as well offer mochi.

Back in Toronto this week-end, I headed out to Burlington to see other friends. This was only fair, as we always meet up downtown. My first trip on the commuter train was a pleasant one. But during rush hour, it may not be as spacious. Two women spent the whole trip discussing their love life. Apparently, Tinder is where it's at nowadays.

Burlington, or at least the areas near the Appleby station, was quiet. I could see the attraction compared to Mississauga, which combines suburban sprawl with noisy and dense traffic. On the other hand, the teenagers hanging around Appleby Village Mall seemed bored. Dinner consisted of sushi, roast chicken, and pie. Conversation revolved not around the typical topic of raising children but the various drug regiments needed to keep the body going. My takeaway was that Dr McCoy in the Voyage Home was right to compare 20th century medicine to trepanning. We use them as blunt instruments without much true understanding. Take this pill for this problem, then this other pill to fix any side effects of the 1st, and so on. Old age is not looking too pleasant from my perspective.

Dadiji's Kitchen

Expecting to eat a heavy dinner, I decided on a light lunch for Saturday. Now I wouldn't put most Indian meals in that category but I heard that new-ish The Tiffin Box at Bathurst and Bloor may be different. This tiny shop is located a few blocks just north of the subway station with just a handful of tables and a couple of window seats.

The Tiffin Box is literally a mom-and-pop establishment, with an older Indian couple working behind a small kitchen/counter. So one of the drawbacks is the slow service. If there are more than 2 orders before yours, expect a wait. You should still go, but preferably during a non-busy time, because the food here is both delicious and freshly made (with vegetarian, vegan, and even gluten-free options.)

I ordered a dosa ($7) with the unusual choice of butternut squash. I've eaten a similar offering (veggie Caribbean roti) from Vena's Roti so I knew it was likely to be a good flavour combination. It was indeed a tasty choice. A mildly spiced mix of potatoes, butternut squash, and chori beans made a wonderful filling for the crispy lentil crepe shell. Importantly, it was light on the oil and ghee. Even the tomato and coconut chutney were fresh, as evidenced by their coarsely ground ingredients. The only disappointment was the portion size of the sambar that came with the platter. Because a few spoonful of this fragrant soup weren't enough. Next time I'll have to order an extra helping.

Dead-Pan Alley

The 7-9 pm show Thursday night at the Dakota Tavern was best appreciated by those with a dry wit. Both acts specialized in pop songs sung in a sardonic manner, full of funny quips and verses. The opening act (though they played for the bulk of the time slot) was The Burning Hell, who have mostly moved to Newfoundland from Toronto. Fronted by Mathias Korn (who opened with My Name Is Mathias), a smaller version of the wildly bearded Ben Caplan, this trio played fun tunes. Korn told long stories with his music covering topics like fairy tales (Bedtime Stories) and pet euthanasia (Kings of the Animal Kingdom). His lyrics were unusual for pop with interesting phrasing and rhyme. Almost like a good showtune ... or perhaps a dense rap song (Amateur Rappers). But whether it was an eulogy for a robber baron (Industrialists) or a gig gone wrong (Realists), most had 3-part harmony refrains that were pure pop bliss. Ariel Sharrat, in addition to her singing duties, added great ornamentation with her dulcet clarinet.

With less than 30 minutes, Blimp Rock played an abbreviated set. Their songs were also atypical (Lake Ontario Lifeguards, If My Friends Ran The Government, Sensitive Boy). Peter Demakos' vocals had a similar understated irony to Korn's. You could imagine them both winking at you while singing. Since they didn't do their whole Blimp Rock Inc. schtick tonight, I thought they could have replaced some of the jokier songs with more straightforward pop. I missed hearing Monogamy Blues and Dancing On My Own from their Tranzac set.

Fly Me To The Moon

Tuesday evening, I headed to the TIFF theatre to see the newest Ghibli's movie: The Tale of The Princess Kaguya. Although directed by Isao Takahata, luckily this film was not the bleak despair of his masterpiece Grave of the Fireflies. There were some moments of melancholy, but many more scenes of laughter and joy. Tonight, there was a chat session afterward with Now Magazine's movie critic Norm Wilner.

The film was a straight re-telling of the folktale Princess Kaguya. An old bamboo cutter finds a tiny hand-sized baby inside a bamboo stalk. He and his wife decide to raise her as their own. The child grows at a prodigious rate. Also finding gold and other treasures inside other bamboos, he decides to build a grand mansion in the city to befit his child's status as a "heavenly princess". News of her beauty incite several noble men into attempting to win her.

Unlike the typical "anime" style, this film looked like a water-colour painting come to life. But think less Western painting, but more the Eastern style of Japanese scrolls (complete with exaggerated heads). This gave the movie an ethereal quality that matched its slow, quiet story. However, its deceptively simple style will probably not thrill all anime or Ghibli's fans. Though sticking to the folktale, Takahata has included story elements that lent themselves to various interpretations.

We touched on some of these during the chat. The easiest, as pointed out by Wilner, were allegorical references to parenthood and growing up, especially a parent's perhaps mistaken assumption about what was best for their children. Others saw a commentary on Buddhist's teachings of detachment and Samsara (with the arrival of the "heavenly hosts") or a rejection of Japanese traditional values (Kaguya's rebellion against being trained to be a prim princess).

They were mostly wrong. Particularly risible was Wilner's contention that Kaguya was different from the other "moon people" because of the way she was drawn. A casual perusal of Buddhist art would show that many Buddhist "deities" and characters are illustrated with a reference to the "original" Buddhists (namely South Asians). This would make them look markedly different from the Japanese Kaguya.

Takahata was concerned with illusion and change. Kaguya's 5 suitors compared her to mythical treasures. When she challenged them to return with these artefacts, all were shown to be fake; whether fraudulently made or bought by them. Gifted with real treasures, the bamboo cutter used them to construct a glittering falsehood of gentility and nobility for his family. Even Kaguya was deceived. She realized too late that she had forgotten that her goal (when she was living in Heaven) was to experience life on Earth, not fill her mortal rebirth with needlework and deportment lessons.

In contrast, Takahata included a folk song sung by Kaguya's on several occasions. Its verses talked of animals, seasons, the cyclic nature of the world. Her best memories were her time with the mountain folk, who lived according to the seasons. Life is change, life is real; illusion is often static construction. Yet we must also be careful and not be fooled by illusory change. Consider the princess' abode: the Heavenly moon, which changes as it wax and wane, yet is in reality eternal and fixed in the sky.

Lost In Translation

Monday night, I headed over to CBC Studios for a performance from Hey Rosetta!, a sprawling band from St. John's, Newfoundland. Radio host Tom Power was quite excited to introduce them. Being also from that city, he described the pride that Newfoundlanders felt for a band that "made it" with original material and not old folk songs.

The 7 members took to the stage in a circular studio set-up, with the audience surrounding them. Some in the crowd were quite excited to be there, having even brought their own egg shaker. With most members playing multiple instruments, they needed more than 20 mics for the set up. Until they really hit it big, it is unlikely any club or bar venue will give them as good a staging as tonight.

The pristine sound mix highlighted their complex sound palette: layers of guitar, strings (violin/cello), horns (trumpet/french horn), and driving drums and bass. I wouldn't quite describe them as "orchestral" like Power, but they did possess a rich texture. Ironically, this made their set dragged in the middle. Every song stretched to 7-8 minutes but only a handful deserved the treatment. With 11 tunes all following the soft, loud, soft, build-up, fade-out, etc template, I was zoning out after awhile. Long-time fans, though, reveled in every change and transition. The bulk of the songs came from their new album Second Sight (Gold Teeth, Cathedral Bells, Harriet) but Hey Rosetta! also played some old favourites (Bandages).

Hands Off

There were lots of music choices on Saturday: Fleetwood Mac at the ACC, The Wooden Sky at Lee's, and a number of indie bands including Diana and Parallels at Adelaide Hall. As such, 3030 Dundas in the Junction was low on my list. But one of my favourite local bands, Hands & Teeth, was calling it quits. So I decided to go see their last show.

With a number of side/new projects and even an incipient move to L.A. for one member, it was perhaps time for this melodious pop band to end it after 5 years together. Despite their sweet harmony, energetic songs, and physical attractiveness, they never got traction on the music scene. There was a good crowd, both curious listeners and fans, for the show. Hands & Teeth mostly played newer songs from their latest EP (Easy, Not The Same) or unreleased tracks (Kids). The sound mix, rather poor last time I was here, did a good job tonight highlighting their multi-part harmonies and catchy bass. The set ended with their last single, Cactus, released only a few weeks ago and Race To The End, the 1st song on their 2010 debut album. A song they haven't "played in 3 years". Then it was time for a final bow and hugs all around.

Vancouver The Venal

Saturday night, I attended a "live film noir" at the Bluma Appel Theatre. The main conceit of the play Helen Lawrence was the projection of the action, along with some technological wizardry, onto a scrim covering the front of the stage.

After a short visit to an insane asylum in L.A. in 1947, most of the action took place in Vancouver with a large cast of characters including corrupt cops, "coloured" gangsters, molls, and other low lifes. Helen Lawrence (Lisa Ryder) came North to track down Percy Walker (Nicholas Lea), a smooth talker who may have murdered Lawrence's husband and set her up to take the fall. Meanwhile, there was blackmail, double-cross, and other nefarious going-ons in the grimy areas of town.

As some actors played their scene, others operated cameras that projected the action on the "big screen". The marvel was the addition of background, so that the bare stage (with some props like chairs or boxes) was replaced on-screen with CGI-rendered hotel rooms, back alleys, cop cars and hallways. There were also cutaways that had fully realized images of various Vancouver locales.

A fellow patron dismissed it all as "why bother with theatre if you're doing all close-ups?" I enjoyed the play more than she did, but I do agree that it was more movie than play. The whole thing felt a bit like a stunt, similar to those "one-take, live episode" of E.R. or some other TV shows. Its main fault was the unwieldy script, a good half of the cast could be chopped. A film noir should be lean and mean.

The "Hollywood" (real-life vs. cinema) aspect should also have been played up. For example, I enjoyed the contrast between the characters in normal, sometimes colourful, clothes and their black-and-white projections. Was it real or were we on a 40s sound lot? Instead of limiting the cameras to the front and have its operators (as mentioned, also actors in other scenes) in shadows, why not include them with the staging? An actress could finish her lines, and drag a camera into use for a different scene. Over the shoulder shots ... why not? Placing cameras all over the stage might have made the green screening more difficult, but still doable. Perhaps the effects could even be projected directly onto the stage, which is also within the realm of the possible.

Ultimately, Helen Lawrence seemed to be a weak attempt at Tear The Curtain. Kim Collier, who created and directed the latter play, was originally onboard for Lawrence but was no longer involved. Her vision might have saved this production.

Oo Long, And Thanks For All The Dish

Thanksgiving Dinner

Most Holiday dinners that I attend usually comprise a mix of culinary tradition. This year, my Thanksgiving meals were strictly Asian. For lunch, I met a friend for Dim Sum at Mandarin Ogilvie (not related to the buffet franchise in Toronto). This old-school place still had the food carts rolling down the aisles, although the servers were younger than the usual crusty waitress. We ordered the typical dishes: har gow, siu mia, ribs, shrimps, sticky rice, et al. They were all edible but not particularly outstanding. Without the competition in Toronto, little details added up: dumpling shells a little too thick, meat and seafood a touch overcooked, etc. The good news was that my friend has left the Lonely Hearts Club. Which led to a "deep thought". Could something remain a club with only 1 member?

Sunday dinner had no turkey or roast beef. The appetizers were variations of the fresh roll. The shrimp was plump but the shell was left on. That was an unfortunate oversight. The nem (marinated raw pork "ceviche") had a tangy flavour with a bite from the peppercorn. Of course, what completed these rolls were a well-prepared fish sauce dip.

Then came the balut eggs. I wasn't sure that after decades of a Westernized palate I could handle these half-fertilized duck eggs now. Luckily, these were not the 21-day "Fear Factor" version (complete with feathers, bones, and beak) beloved of TV shows. At 14 days, it was a mixture of yellow yolk and (shall we say) tender protein. With a dash of salt and pepper and Vietnamese mint, it was interesting but mostly tasted like egg. I wouldn't say that there was anything particularly distinctive about the flavour. Three hints for any takers: one, crack and eat from the large end; two, be willing to slurp the juice; three, don't eat the egg white at the small end - it has harden into the consistency of stone.

After a few sticky dumplings stuffed with minced tofu and onions, the main dish came out. It was a duck and dried bamboo vermicelli soup. Of course, these Vietnamese soups always come with a mound of fresh and fragrant herbs including lettuce, basil, perilla, and crunchy banana flowers. The only misstep was in the zeal to "eat healthy", too much fat was sliced away from the duck, leaving a broth that could have been richer. After cake for dessert, I was ready to go to bed early.

A Night At The Opera

It was a dark and stormy Tuesday night as I made my way to The Opera House at Queen E and Broadview. It has probably been more than a decade since I was last here for an ABBA cover band. I don't know why I don't visit more often, though this venue does tend to book Metal bands, because the sound was impeccable.

The faux fresco and ornamentation were also appropriate for tonight's music. Both acts played quiet, introspective songs. New Zealand trio Tiny Ruins took the stage at 9 pm. Unlike their mismatched set at the grungy Garrison, the sound mix allowed the complex plucking of guitarist/singer Holly Fulbrook to shine and added depth to Cass Basil's bass and Alexandre Freer's drums. The crowd was sufficiently hushed, with only chatterboxes in the back, to hear her wistful lyrics on songs such as Priests With Balloons and Reasonable Man. They ended their low-key set with the driving She'll Be Coming Round.

Sharon Van Etten came on stage around 10:30. Despite her wise-guy New Jersey accent: "This is a great venue. I feel so fancy", her set comprising of songs from her 2014 album Are We There were marked by raw honesty. Whether on Break Me, I Love You But I'm Lost, or Nothing Will Change, the lyrics were soul-baring and authentic. But I didn't find the mid-tempo arrangements on most tunes very interesting. Van Etten did cover a few older songs including Save Yourself ("I'm playing this for my mother. She always tells me she thinks my old stuff was better.") She ended the night with her most radio-friendly tune, the head-bobbing Every Time The Sun Comes Up.

Coffee Talk

Both Monday and Tuesday night, I was invited to dinner. Generally speaking, a meal made by someone else always taste better. The Monday dinner was a simple but tasty affair of vegetarian spaghetti. Tuesday's was also vegetarian but more elaborate for a dinner party. Warm and fragrant apple and celery root soup was followed by a savoury cauliflower cake, sauteed bean sprouts, lentils with goat cheese, roasted pumpkin, and a dessert of apple crumble and pear sorbet. My favourite was the cauliflower and soup: subtle and flavourful. Oddly, despite its rich colour, the pumpkin was a bit bland.

But the conversations were equally interesting. My Monday host was Jewish so we got to discussing the various rituals, considering that this time of year has a succession of Holidays: Rosh Shashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkot. I read an English translation of the numerous interpretations of valid and invalid sukkah (hut) that are to be built. Makes reading a technical manual seem easy by comparison!

Tuesday,  the current political landscape in Toronto got top billing. With all guests of a liberal bent, the saga of the Ford brothers and their continued support was a large source of exasperation. Since it was also part of the 1000 dinners TO event, we also discussed ways to improve the city. Those with children leaned toward daycare and housing affordability. The childless were more into social justice issues including minority representation and gentrification. I would have liked to hear more daring solutions, even if in the real-world they would need to be toned down. I also wondered about the make-up of the other dinners. Were there any that included guests with true differences of opinion, or did we all gathered with like-minded individuals? Toronto describes itself as a city of neighbourhoods, but I often think this is true not just at the physical level. We have not just two but a multitude of solitudes.

Kurios-er

On Saturday, I headed down to the Portlands to see the latest Cirque du Soleil spectacle entitled Kurios (Cabinet of Curiosity). It has been years since I've seen a show from this Montreal-based circus. They are known for having themed and well-choreographed acts.

Approaching the big-top, Kurios had a Victorian-era Steam-punk-esque vibe with its clockwork sign and an ornamented metal arch. Outside, a multi-geared contraption could be pedaled from an old-timey bicycle. Like most Steampunk affectations, it didn't actually do anything. Inside was pure 21st century consumerism though as booths after booths hawk wares from merchandise and souvenirs, popcorn, snacks, soft drinks, and booze. After passing into the inner flaps, we finally saw the set.

A mad scientist of sorts was conducting various experiments. His robot servitors wandered about under his directions doing chores like sweeping the floor. There were more Steampunk inventions including Victrola/typewriter hybrids. Finally, he and us was transported via his flying chair to some unknown location. A steam train rolled into view, and from its front, a gaggle of performers emerge to entertain the us and the absent-minded professor.

Judging from the audience reaction, the most engaging acts were the high-flying ones such as a troupe of fishermen, who revealed themselves to be some sort of gilled undersea creatures. They then proceeded to do ever higher and daring jumps and spins on top of a mesh trampoline that stretched across the circus ring. Those involving objects (juggling, yo-yo) did not get as much love. For the average viewer, it simply wasn't obvious how equally difficult these skills were. The juggler did get cheers for his final trick, as he juggled while suspended 50 feet in the air.

Similarly, the various balancing acts also got the biggest cheers when their tricks involved some height from the ground. One of my favourite was a woman being thrown upside-down and backward into a hand-to-hand handstand. Oh, yes, her partner was himself standing on the shoulders of a 2nd man ... who was standing on the shoulders of a 3rd. I don't think I could stand on one foot without falling over.

I was a bit disappointed with the design. Many performers wore Victorian-inspired costumes; the various "clowns"/handlers were dressed as odd contraptions or robots; and some set pieces were interesting such as the giant metal hand that served as the base for the contortionists. But given its theme, I was expecting some sort of phantasmagoric scene overflowing with gee-gaws. For example, the prop from the Canadian Opera Company's Cosi Fan Tutti, a 2-story giant cabinet of curiosity, would have added some needed oomph.

Tintinnabulation

This dance season, company ProArteDanza celebrated its 10th year anniversary. On Friday, I attended their recital at the Fleck Dance Theatre, a retrospective of their past output.

Act I comprised of a full reprise of their 2010 Dora-winning ...in between... Several vignettes had dancers moving in and out of cohesive movements into disjointed actions. This also occurred as in and out-members of various groupings. The company's style: a dynamic fusion of ballet techniques with a contemporary sensibility was on full display. There were several humorous moments that had the audience laughing including a "follow-the-leader" scene that resembled kids at play. Two large mats made effective props for the troupe: walls for watchers; beds for cavorting lovers or distressed souls; sofas to rest or leap on; even as a "gym mat" for two male dancers to egg each other to ever more daring jumps.

Act II had 9 excerpts from various productions. I had feared that it would not be as engaging with a "So You Think You Can Dance" hodge podge. Though it definitely had the excitement of an "all thriller no filler" show, act II still had meaningful moments. Videos of dance practice projected onto a front scrim in between scenes tied the past to the present. It was also nice to see both the evolution and versatility of the company from the kinetic and angular fractals: a pattern of chaos (2011) and Subsistence (2006) to the classical Unfinished 32 (2005) and Beethoven's 9th - 1st Movement (2009). There were cheers for choreographers Robert Glumbek and Roberto Campanella, who participated in some excerpts including In Full Bloom (2010), a funny examination of aging dancers/men.

Revel Yell

I won some free tickets First Night AGO, a monthly evening art fest at the eponymous gallery. So Thursday night, I headed over to McCaul and Dundas. Since Nuit Blanche was only a 2 days away, there were some "previews". Outside, people were lining up to get their fortunes read at Fastwurm: The Fortune-Teller Machine. But there were no automatons, just people in funny costumes inside a large vehicle. Next to it, there was a "mobile art van" for curious attendees.

Inside, there were more Nuit Blanche installations. People were scratching their heads over Cascade. Inside Walker Court, a group of people (local folks with circus training) were wandering around, twitching and repeating movements. It looked like a convention of OCD or Tourette sufferers. But there were 4 circus ropes hanging from the ceiling. They would calm down if they pulled and contorted themselves up the rope. Elsewhere, if you were dabbed with invisible ink by hazmat-suited personnel, you can head over to Half-Life to see your markings under black light. Finally, at the sound-proof Screaming Booth, you can vent any frustrations or perhaps simply take a short quiet break.

The AGO advertises the big exhibits: Frieda Kahlo, Picasso, and currently Alex Colville. But you tend to forget that new art installations are also done in the main galleries. I was taken with the impressive collection of Native art currently on display. There were historical artefacts, old paintings, and modern take on traditional styles or themes. I enjoyed the "kitschy" room, where humorous art commented on the interaction between mainstream and Aboriginals such as a "Mona Lisa" painting of an Indian "princess" in full regalia. I particularly loved Lifestyles. This set of 4 photos depicted 4 rooms inside an apartment filled to the brim with Indian tchotchkes from the usual suspects: dream catchers and colourful shawls; to Pocahontas t-shirts; fringed suede purses; kitchen stuff; et al. Obviously, this was not so subtle commentary about Native chic (timely with the current fashion trend of wearing feather headdress). But what made the piece was the couple who "lived there", two Native-Americans who were themselves fully bedecked in kitschy Indian clothes. Do they make Native chic cool or acceptable if they embraced it? Ethics aside, this home looked more fun and welcoming than my own. I want to live there, dubious politics notwithstanding.