Do Not Collect

Gau Indian Village is a new restaurant that has opened near Bloor and Shaw. It sits mostly empty, usually not a good sign. But being just a block down from the immensely popular Banjara and the equally full Madras Masala, Gau may simply be having trouble gaining traction. So I finally decided to try it on Sunday.

Despite the sandwich board outside listing all sorts of roti deals, the menu was mostly standard Indian fare. This may be one reason people are passing by. Who wants to order roti from a white table-cloth restaurant? Gau is aiming for a more genteel look: linen napkins, pretty food presentation, and even exchanging new plates between appetizers and mains. But the table-cloth was unironed and there were small stains on the napkins. A bit classist but I think it's better to look cheap (and perhaps cheerful) than to feel cheap.

I had the same reaction to the food vibe. I know restaurants pre-cook and have other kitchen tricks so that orders can be filled promptly; but you don't want diners to hear the beeping of your microwave. But enough with the ambiance, onto the food. I got some veggie samosas ($2.99), Mulai Kofta ($10.99), and naan ($2.49). The portions were generous but this was the blandest Indian food I've ever eaten. The naan was thick and doughy. I could taste the typical oily richness in the sauce, but the fragrant spice mixture was missing. It wasn't even heavy like bad Indian, just leaving no impression at all. Maybe the rotis are their specialty, hence the out-door advertising.

Dancing Dream

On Saturday, I went to see Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. This new narrative ballet was commissioned by the National Ballet from choreographer Christopher Wheeldon. The story hewed closely to the book with 2 major changes. First, the story opens in "real life" with Henry and Lorina Liddell preparing to host an out-door party for some important guests. Meanwhile, Lewis Carroll was entertaining their daughters including Alice Liddell (Jillian Vanstone) with stories and magic tricks. This "prologue" allows, via story and choreography, an introduction to various characters who will return later in their alter ego form such as Carroll/White Rabbit (Dylan Tedaldi), Mrs. Liddell/Queen of Hearts (Greta Hodgkinson), Rajah/The Caterpillar (Harrison James) and so on. The 2nd change was the addition of a budding love-interest for Alice in the form of Jack/The Knave of Hearts (Naoya Ebe).

The 3 acts were replete with fantastical effects: both practical via puppets and computer-generated projections and imaginative stage scenery and props to portray scenes from the book including Alice's shrinkage and growth, the Hatter's Tea Party, the Duchess' cottage, and the Royal gardens including the famous croquet match. I thought the piece was a little too busy especially in Act I. Trying to fit all the scenes from the book, not to mention their episodic nature, lead to frantic and fragmentary segments. You just want to have some time to absorb the scene.

The shorter Act II and III were much better. We get a few key scenes with extended choreography. There was time for some solo footwork for the main characters as well as a couple of delicate pas-de-deux between Alice and the Knave. The solos for the White Rabbit and The Caterpillar cleverly evoked their animal nature. The Queen had several hilarious scenes as her short temper made her dance partners/court retainers scared and jittery. This led to intentionally "bad" lifts and footwork that made her look ridiculous. Overall, this was an enjoyable and easily accessible production, as seen by the many young kids in the audience. This may become as much a summer favourite (i.e., cash cow) as the annual "winter tradition" of The Nutcracker.

Buster Eatin'

Phil's BBQ closed after almost 20 years, even a restaurant make-over for a TV show couldn't stop the slide. To be honest the quality hasn't been there in a while. Good barbecue, but not great. Recently, there's been construction in the location. Removal of the sign revealed an older marquee, proclaiming College Inn (a delicatessen).

Ignore the faded sign and look at logo on the door. Turns out a new(ish) kid on the block has moved in. Buster Rhino's BBQ has a couple of joints outside of Toronto in Whitby and Oshawa; now they've made their move for downtown. Everything was pretty much the same inside even with the layout to the tables. There's some minor changes: a new coat of paint, differently upholstered benches, and menu boards nailed to wooden pallets instead of dried branches in vases. The beer menu is a little more hipster. But the burning question is: how's the BBQ?

My wings and rib combo ($25) was great: A half-rack of ribs, 7-8 large chicken wings, and your choice of side (I chose BBQ beans). The sauce came in a cup so you could taste the meat. And both offerings were delicious. Both had delicate smoky flavour, tender and juicy. My "championship hot" smelled of chili, but had just a hint of heat. I didn't like the beans, but only because the Southern style of mushy and sweet beans doesn't appeal; next time corn bread for me. Buster is a big improvement and should attract a lot of traffic.

Trevor, Garrett, and the Cream Machine

I went to the Piston on Thursday for some live music. This venue is already small, but the fact that it was not even full was a shame. The 3 bands that played were excellent, and the show was one of the most enjoyable I've seen. Not to the mention that the sound mix was better than other, bigger venues.

First up was Stonetrotter, a 5-piece from Barrie. Their site described their sound as rock & soul. Well, to be fair, there wasn't much rock in their set. As they wryly pointed out, they have 1 up-tempo song in their repertoire. But they certainly do have soul. Their songs were sweet pop tunes and a little bit retro with all those harmonized doo-wops. But the lyrics to Ghost In My Own Skin and Hostage were smart and observant. Singer Dave Allen was great, but they should consider giving more lead to Courtney Dubois. Their duet (entitled Duets) was a highlight.

If Stonetrotter was laid back, Stella Ella Ola was bright and energetic. Playing songs from their debut album pretty much in the same order, as they helpfully pointed out, it was wall-to-wall jangly pop, excitable lyrics, and shouty refrains. When I first saw them, I considered them to be "my Alvvays". They share the same "summery sound" vibe, but more upbeat. Their small contingent of fans who bopped and sang along probably agree.

Language Arts are currently on a cross-Canada tour. They've stopped back in Toronto for a breather before continuing out East. Their set was also energetic but in a different way. Classically trained, Kristen Cudmore included a lot of flourishes and layers in their music. But Daniel McIntosh's muscular drumming kept the urgency in their songs. Almost half the set was new material including a song about Cudmore's dog Sprout and being dumped over the phone. These numbers were definitely pop-ier: more catchy riffs and less elliptical. But even so, Language Arts couldn't help but still indulged in multiple disparate segments, not quite prog rock but still a bit unusual. This tendency to scuttle radio-friendliness could prevent them from achieving mainstream success. Of course, no Language Arts show is complete without Cudmore's banter: off-the-cuff, hilarious, and prone to over-sharing.

Love Me Do

On Wednesday, I went down to the Harbourfront to see a dance program celebrating Kaeja d'Dance's 25th anniversary: both the company and the marriage of Allen and Karen Kaeja. For the occasion, two world premieres were presented tonight: .0 by Allen for Karen, and Taxi! by Karen for Allen.

.0 started with Karen and the other dancers trapped by spotlights. Circumscribed by their zone of light, they twitched and spin, reaching into the darkness. Eventually, they made their way out and came together. The dancers switched back and forth between periods of manic dancing including acrobatic Kaeja Elevations and profound lethargy, where they needed other dancers to hold them up. A long middle section involved improvisation, where each dancer would call out 0, minus 1, 4, and so on. Each number corresponded to a segment in a choreographic sequence. Upon hearing a number, the dancers would reset and start their movement from that segment.

Taxi! was more concerned with couples, although sometimes that may involve 3 or 4 people. It explored different stages of coupledom from the initial meeting on to the final breakdown. More a theatre performance than dance, especially as the dancers spoke and shouted about sexual fantasies, past experiences, or embarrassing secrets. This often generated knowing laughter from the audience. Allen played up his "decrepitude" as compared to the dancer's younger, lither bodies.

The pieces shared some common elements. Notable in both was a switch from a sparse soundscapes to pounding electronic music. In .0, it was used to show off exuberance: coordinated dancing and  showy lifts; perhaps the world's most athletic dance club. In Taxi!, guys thrusted and girls bumped, a scene you might encounter during any week-end, though perhaps not with the same level of desperation. I liked both pieces, but a collaborative ensemble piece pulling in elements from both might have worked better.

Peace and Long Life

I don't watch many movies so it was a rarity that I went to the movie twice in succession. On Monday, I dropped by The Royal for Inherent Vice, a recent adaptation of a Pynchon novel. For those nostalgic for the 70s, it was all there: the cars, the clothes, the hair, and the attitudes. The plot revolves around a P.I. nicknamed Doc who is hired by an ex-girlfriend to do some snooping on her current mega-rich beau. The whole thing was a bit of a shaggy dog story as we found ourselves quickly immersed in Nazi gangs, crazy cops, drug cults, and shadowy businesses. As such, I wanted the director Paul Thomas Anderson to play up the various absurdities of 70s California culture as well as Doc's loose grasp on reality. The few laugh-out-loud moments centered on those comic elements.

On Tuesday, I returned for Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan, being shown as a tribute to the late Leonard Nimoy. Ironically, though this movie was set in the future, it was shot in 1981. So real elements of 70s aesthetic crept into the film including high-waisted "disco" pants and ship consoles and computers replete with glowing buttons and levers (not a single keyboard in sight). This classic movie held up even with the out-dated special effects. It did not escape my attention that although the future still mostly involved white men doing stuff, there were people of color (POC) in the future like Uhura, Sulu on the Enterprise and Captain Terrell of the Reliant, and especially the background extras (whether as fresh-faced Starfleet engineers or improbably stylish lab technicians). Khan's motley crew of genetic superiors were noticeably all blonde and white.

In contrast, the new Star Trek reboots are not quite so enlightened. But even they pale (ha!) in comparison to the Star Wars movies. George Lucas' universe has been noted to be so lily-white, even Lando Calrissian couldn't improve it. You only have to read the on-line "outrage" regarding the black storm-trooper in the new trailer to realize the impact of those choices.

And Now We Sing

On Saturday, I had already bought a ticket to see Mo Kenney, an acclaimed songwriter from the East coast. But a friend wanted to enjoy a night downtown. Since she doesn't have too many nights off as a busy parent, I couldn't turn her down. First, we stopped off at Banjara. Even though this Indian spot at Christie Pits Park has doubled in capacity, it was fully packed with 5-6 groups waiting for a table. This went on for the whole night. So it was lucky we got there as the last sets of tables were available. It was just good Indian food, not great. Particularly disappointing since the restaurant critic in the Globe and Mail was raving about a new biryani joint in Scarborough. All the great ethnic restaurants are located in the suburbs.

But one advantage of downtown living is the convenience. So after dinner, we walked a couple of blocks West to buy some Korean brown sugar pancakes. It must be the promise of spring because that bakery was hopping with people, too. And so were most places along Bloor St. As we were already in the area, we decided to stop off at a Korean karaoke joint. I've never had the occasion to visit one, so was curious to check it out. Despite the slightly grungy exterior, it was clean and neat inside. Unlike North American bars where you sing in front of everyone, this place was divided into small rooms. For $20/hour, you get your own Karaoke machine. The song selections were mostly Korean but there were plenty of English songs. It was a surprisingly fun activity to wrap up the evening. But for a singer with a limited range, it's easy to strain for notes. I could feel my voice blowing out so I made sure to drink a lot of water when I got home.

Blarney Rock

For St. Patrick's Day, local band July Talk was the head-liner for a charity concert. They've been selling out Toronto shows so I needed quick fingers to buy the tickets, especially since they were going for only $10. On Tuesday night, I headed down to nightclub The Hoxton.

Given the day and the environment, I was warily anticipating well-sloshed partiers. Corporate sponsors Jameson Irish Whiskey was handing out free drink tickets, but surprisingly, everybody seemed well-behaved. Without an opener, July Talk took to the stage at an early-ish 10:30 pm.

Although a full band, they are primarily Peter Dreimanis and Leah Fay. Whether there was any real substance to their heat or just stagecraft, they played up the love/hate angle. So as they were exchanging lyrics, there were a lot of meaningful/hateful stares, hair-pulling, and body contact. Dreimanis accompanied his growly singing with heavy guitar chords, fist-pumps, and Ric Flair "woos". Fay, with her light voice, was more into poses and manic dancing. She also borrowed plenty of props from the audience from leprechaun hats, to green boas, to tear-away pants and a Celtics jersey.

The music was equally groin-based with lots of chunky riffs and chords on numbers like Summer Dress and The Garden.  The crowd was young, tight to the stage, happy to dance, and knew every song. So they eagerly received "blessings" from Fay on this holy day: first spritzes of water flung from her water bottle, then later eager sips of whiskey from the band's complimentary bottle. With rabid fans, energetic songs, and intense stage personas, this band will definitely break out soon onto a bigger stage. Considering that they also recently won Alternative Album at the Junos over the week-end, that's a pretty safe bet.

Folking Good Time

Thursday night, Lee's Palace was sold out for The Barr Brothers and AroarA. Both bands started early so I was there by 9 pm to catch the opener. It was one of AroarA's best performance, and not just because I missed half their set last time. Once again, this husband-wife duo has recruited Feist to do back up vocals on a few songs. But this time round, she also brought her guitar. Even better, they had a live drummer. The combination made for much more organic and dynamic playing, bringing out the jamming rock in their music. Of course, the lyrics remained powerful, coming from poem anthology In The Pines.

When I saw the full-sized harp, banjo, steel-pedal, and old-timey light-bulbs on stage, I thought I was in for a night of Lumineers a la Montrealaise. To be honest, not my favourite trend in music. But The Barr Brothers sounded more blues/rock live: rawer, more muscular, with quite a few extended jams. I don't think I've ever seen a "harp rock solo" before, full of banging and screeching notes. Yet the complex and layered music wasn't lost thanks to excellent sound engineering. Freed from their slightly twee arrangement on the records, the lyrics felt less mannered and more authentic. It was a great show from a band on the cusp of mainstream popularity.

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.