Upstairs, Downstairs

I was at The NAC on Friday to watch a 3-piece recital from BC Ballet. Ballet companies usually don't tour Toronto with the exception of some well-known Russian or American troupes. Possibly deterred by the presence of The National Ballet? So this was my first time seeing another Canadian ballet company. It turned out to be mostly underwhelming.

The most exciting piece was a new work from Crystal Pite titled The Statement. This was the main reason I was in attendance. It seemed perfect for the Nation's Capital since Ottawa is synonymous with politics and machinations. Set around a boardroom desk, a company has discovered that their attempt to extract financial profit in an area mired in regional conflict has back-fired. Now the business unit involved need to do spin control and the higher-ups were also there to make sure they said the right things or, failing that, somebody will take the fall.

I saw a post online that made things retrospectively obvious to a non-dancer like myself. Some people dance to the beat and some dance to the lyrics. Pite's choreography had the four performers moved to the speeches and inner thoughts of the protagonists. At first, these steps that gave expression to every word and phrase seemed almost cartoonish or parodic: tiktok dance memes taken to extreme causing the audience to laugh good-naturedly. But as both the dancing and the situation got more and more dire, we became engrossed with the work. Its theme was timely and the choreography was exciting and provocative. The standing ovation when it finished was well-deserved.

The book-end pieces were less interesting. Artistic Director Waleski's GARDEN was anemic and for me, hit all the tropes of contemporary ballet: an "evocative" classical score (Saint-Saens' Op. 14), various pas de deux and trois, people standing around or running on stage and then running off, and dramatic lighting. I also noticed more sloppiness in the dancing compared to The National Ballet. Their closing signature piece Bedroom Folk was also a let-down from The Statement. It was almost entirely unison dancing with a "ballet-meets-Fosse" choreography set to EDM-esque music. Ironic since despite her quartet piece tonight, Pite is the one known for using unison and formation dancing in large ensemble to overwhelming effect. There was no such awe with Bedroom, which dragged on for too long, except perhaps that these dancers can dance on-beat for 20 minutes. 

Visions

Wednesday had rainy weather but I decided to head to Saw Gallery on Nicholas St. for a concert at night. Though I grew up in Ottawa, I don't know it as well as Toronto because I didn't explore as a teen. So I was surprised to find out that the street was tucked in next to the downtown Rideau mall. Walking through it and looking at the few old buildings that remain, I caught a glimpse of how an Ottawa that had chosen to preserve its heritage might have looked like instead.

It was a much younger crowd than at the NAC but (perhaps an Ottawa trait?) they were also right on time. The downside was that, unlike in Toronto, showing up early here still meant waiting in a long line. I don't know how grungy this space was before its 2019 renovation, but it looked good with the bar and seating area facing the courtyard and the stage at the back hidden by a half-wall. This was a bonus as it forced the audience to cram together into a smaller area (than the official 280-people capacity of the entire venue) and generating more crowd energy.

Not that tonight had a lot. The audience were enthusiastic but both bands played more chill-vibe music. I saw Ada Lea a few years as a solo act. With a full band, her music had more texture and layer. But her specialty was introspective lyrics. In fact, I think her new songs were even more melancholic with lines like "can't stop me from dying" and "somebody hurt me badly, now I’m stuck in a rut". Head-liner Dizzy is also more sway than dance but they have upped their groove and melodic guitar riffs on the new album The Sun and Her Scorch. Singer Katie Munshaw still specialized in airy vocals and soft words. There was enough catchy beats to get the crowd moving.

Though the concert was sold-out tonight, I was surprised that Dizzy's 2019 Juno win of Alternative Album of the Year for their debut record didn't result in a larger venue. Their mini-tour will end in Toronto at The Opera House which can hold close to 1000 people.

Alone Together

I headed out for a show in Ottawa at the NAC (National Arts Centre). The downtown core was devoid of people but that's not pandemic-related, just the city being itself. Ironic then that the head-liner Andrea Ramolo tried to hype the audience by extolling the excitement of "going out in Ottawa on a Saturday night". They were prompt, though. The smaller 4th stage venue was filled with about 70-80 people who all got there before Sarah MacDougall opened at 8:30 pm. But maybe the NAC has a no late-comers policies for all its venues?

I haven't seen MacDougall in about a decade. No doubt she has played in Toronto numerous times but our paths never crossed again. I don't remember her guitar-playing back then but tonight it was an interesting combination of resonant finger-picking and ringing chords. MacDougall was deft with imagery both evocative: "You were made from wolves" (We Are Fire) and grounded: "let's jump on the Number One/All the way to Saskatchewan" (It's A Storm). The pandemic has been a two-edged sword for her. MacDougall built a studio in the house she inherited from her grandmother in London, Ontario. The lock-downs gave her time to hone her production skills; so much so that she produced Ramolo's latest record. But she couldn't go to Sweden to see her mother, who had a bad case of Covid, until this past August. As a travelling musician finally able to tour, MacDougall closed her set with the wistful Ramblin'.

Ramolo's latest album Quarantine Dream was written and recorded during this turbulent time. She played the entire record, accompanied on piano/synth, with songs about challenges during the pandemic: musician friends who couldn't work (Road Kill), being cooped up alone (End Of Time), aging (My Way Home), and missing life pleasures (Italian Summer). But it was also about re-assessing priorities: "there's so much to be fighting for" (Quarantine Dream), "We can't be free/Cause we're not all free" (Free).

Ramolo finally addressed her "childless woman" situation despite wanting to be a mother (Morning Glory). This desire came from being raised by a wonderful one who, despite a double mastectomy, came to her album release at The Paradise Theatre this past Thursday. She gave a strong performance tonight but my past experiences (and a few anecdotes she dropped about that release show) convinced me the Thursday concert was more powerful. Not only was there a full band at The Paradise, but Ramolo also had numerous guests (who co-wrote or played on the record) and many friends in the crowd.

On a related note, I've complained before about the Toronto crowd and their propensity to form a stand-offish U-shape in front of the stage. I don't know if it was the sit-down cabaret setting or the demographic (mostly older and white) tonight, but this crowd was even more staid. On the other hand, it was a capacity crowd most of whom did not know either artists.

Doomed

I spent the last 2 weeks inside with only short trips outdoors for exercise runs, groceries, or visiting a relative. Ottawa seems to encourage cocooning, probably because most of it is urban sprawl. Also, I have been suffering mild stomach problems. I hope my decades-long love/hate relationship with my digestive system hasn't taken a turn. It would be ironic indeed to develop IBS or a similar issue just as I have resolved to do more traveling post-Covid after years of staying put. But recent symptoms in older relatives point to a likely genetic predisposition, so my fate could be sealed.

Speaking of fate and omens, I enjoyed immensely Denis Villeneuve's Dune on Friday at the theatre. It wasn't the enigmatic puzzle some claimed. I did read the novel a few weeks beforehand because I believed these rumours. The book itself was also straightforward with simple ideas. I'm not sure why so many people online bounced off the supposedly obtuse and convoluted vocabulary. These folks should avoid Jack Vance if they think Herbert is hard. Perhaps a lifetime diet of speculative fiction has trained me on obscure or invented words. In any case, the lurid wikipedia synopsis of the remaining novels convinced me to stop at the first book.

On Saturday, I ordered from Chahaya Malaysia: Sayur Masak Lemak ($16), Beef Rendang ($18.50), and jasmine rice ($7.50). The vegetables and tofu sheets in coconut curry packed quite a spicy kick but not much else. The beef was better with tender, flaky cubes. I would have preferred the basmati rice with raisins (Nasik Myniak) but they got my order wrong. This is why I dislike tipping on take-out orders because I essentially rewarded a screw-up. Overall, like all Ottawa restaurants so far, an acceptable meal without much superlatives.

I hold some fond memories of this place though I haven't been in years. Decades ago, when it was located in the fashionable Glebe area, Chahaya was one of the numerous restaurants my crush and I visited. Nothing came of that unrequited love except my appreciation of cuisine other than unlimited pasta at The Olive Garden. Looking back, I can't believe how young we actually were.

A quick search revealed that they have a well-off (both doctors) life, raising a family in a semi-rural area near Ottawa. So that wouldn't have worked out. My only regret about living in the big city of Toronto is that I didn't spend time living in even bigger cities (e.g., New York, Paris) for a few years.