Retail Therapy

Saturday night, I headed to my last event of this trip. Living in Ottawa has atrophied my Toronto transit-sense as I have been misjudging travel time. So the Four Seasons Centre was empty when I arrived for The National Ballet's recital. But it wasn't because tonight's program was more contemporary than classical. The crowd eventually filled up the multi-story atrium before the show started.

The first piece was Passion, acquired by the company as a retirement gift for Piotr Stanczyk. It was composed by his mentor James Kudelka. A modern dance couple (Stanczyk and Svetlana Lunkina) danced intertwine with 2 other couples and a small corps doing classical ballet. It was supposedly a contrast between the restrained decorum of the past with the freer feelings of a modern relationship. But I interpreted the leads as struggling between romantic passion (for someone) and devotion to work (a calling), in this case professional dance.

The cranky doyenne next to me didn't think much of Passion. I agree that it felt unclear and aimless as the couple kept pacing around and staring meaningfully at each other while the rest of the dancers swirled around them. But whenever Stanczyk and Lunkina joined up, especially in the long pas-de-deux halfway through, their crispness and speed were wonderful to watch.

Emma Bovary was a new work commissioned by the company based on Flaubert's Madame Bovary. It focused on the psychological journey of the titular character and not a straight adaptation of the novel. I thought it would be a traditional set-up but perhaps not as old-fashioned as Romeo and Juliet. So I was pleasantly surprised by its modern sensibility. This might be the first National Ballet piece that had both a choreographer (Helen Picket) and a director (James Bonas). There was a natural flow between the set pieces and a clear narrative. Though not as elaborate and expensive as Alice In Wonderland, the judicious use puppetry, wardrobe, projected effects, and (also likely a first) wire work made Bovary come alive.

Emma (Hannah Galway) was the most fleshed-out character from the unhappiness with her staid husband Charles (Donald Thom), the wild abandon with her lover Rodolphe (Siphesihle November), and the addiction to the wares of venal Lheureux (Spencer Hack). The men were painted in broader strokes and so was Charles' mother (Jordana Daumec). The choreography was the best kind for me: grounded in the language of classical ballet but re-imagined as expressive contemporary movement.

Opening night had a technical glitch about 5 minutes from the explosive ending (when Emma kills herself) that halted the show and brought the lights up. This gave my elderly seat-mate time to harrumphed about all that sound and fury. As for me, I much prefer this heightened character study to the static tableaux of typical narrative ballet (even if I am fond of Swan Lake). So when the lights came down and the final scene played out, I was enthusiastic in my appreciation.

Led Poole

Saturday morning, I left my short stay and walked along College St. to Little Italy. Almost all the old Vietnamese businesses except for Pho Ling have been replaced: jewelry shop Cuchara was once Do Hue Fabrics and interior design firm Spaces by JacFlash took over BQ Signs. My destination was a yoga studio at the corner of Montrose. Yogaspace was located on the busy Ossington strip for 2 decades. They muddled through the pandemic and even installed HEPA filtration, but finally closed for another location of Avoca Chocolate.

I wasn't really a part of that community as I practiced mostly at the YMCA and on Queen St. West. But I did get my training there just before everything shut down. The owner was retirement age so I was surprised that they would invest money in a new spot. Inside, it was much smaller than the old place. Whether or not they used pricey material or pulled off a miracle renovation on a budget, it looked great.

I've practiced with the Vinyasa instructor before, and especially with their spouse in the hard-core classes at Downward Dog. It was interesting to follow someone else's cues and sequencing since I haven't been in a class in a year. With decades of experience and fully immersed within yogic philosophy, they spoke with assurance and humour. Their story about the origin of the half-"lord of the fish" twisting pose was new to me. They advised the students against extreme back-bends with personal experience: from a giant poster as a Lululemon ambassador back in the day to a middle-aged body with back issues. But that didn't stop the younger practitioners from doing "full wheel".

Afterwards, I tried going to Kiss My Pans on the same block. This cheese shop also offered Singaporean dishes thanks to one of the co-owners. But this week-end was their grand opening so it was full even at 11 am. Their neighbour, the gluten-free/Paleo Konscious Kitchen (Yam Chops for a long while), sounded a little too kooky for me. I headed back but Prairie Boy Bread (which sank under debt) was now Lardo. Meanwhile, Shiba Poke's College location was in arrears. Then across the street, I spied a new place called Bricolage Bakery.

It was run by an Asian couple and offered items such as sausage rolls, cheese tarts, and baguettes. I settled on a butter croissant ($3.70) and a pretzel ($2.40). The croissant was large (not my favourite style) and reasonably flaky. But similar to defunct Bonne Nouvelle (also an Asian-owned store), I didn't love the sweet glaze. Give me more butter, please.

I bought some mixed nuts at No Frills that wasn't available in Ottawa. Then I ate a slice ($5.50) from 241 pizza while watching people queue up at the new location of The Common café. Buying lunch for my trip back tomorrow, I realized that even Subway subs were cheaper in Toronto!

Night Moves

Friday night, I made my way to Fleck Dance Theatre down at The Harbourfront. I've enjoyed ProArteDanza's recitals over the years. After the show, director Roberto Campanella explained that in conjunction with the dancers, they fleshed out his ideas of the Jungian archetypes Anima and Animus as an exploration of the "inner demons" that arise at night, when someone is vulnerable in mind and spirit.

In Night Shadows, there was numerous group and smaller pairings throughout the show. These were sometimes tender but usually it was hard contortions of the body. Eyes and mouths are covered, by the dancers or their partners. One section highlighted individual solos, while the cohort shouted improvised encouragement, snarky put-downs or anxious insecurities.

One through line was a moving door that sometimes allowed people to step through in curiosity and other times was a barrier where dancers forced themselves past in violence. It was a reflection, a lure, and even a respite. For me, I was intrigued by the meta idea that it was just a door frame prop. Yet it created a separation of spaces: inside, outside, behind, in front, and so on. Furthermore, at the beginning and at the end of the piece, 3 dancers were inside rectangular boxes created by light projection. These were also non-real ideas that had a physical weight in the world.

ProArteDanza often uses entire movements from classical music though they will create modern sound collages in shorter mixed programs. Tonight was the first time I've seen them composed a "contemporary" sound design in a longer recital. Although there were classical snippets, they were often chopped up or manipulated to sound distorted and disquieting. The rest included propulsive "EDM for goths" or eerie effects. During the question period post-show, some dancers said they were instructed to fight the music. That is, to not descend into kitschy lyricism for the soft passages or to give in to the beat for the catchy parts.

As for myself, I don't fight my inner demons at night. Probably because I'm usually too tired from only 5-hour of sleep. It must be equal parts thrilling and frightening to confront the "unreal yet also real" spectres birthed from your hidden self.

Made In Taipan

The heavy breakfast at Daily Grind was unwise since I was meeting some co-workers for lunch on Monday. The subway in Toronto can't be beat: I was able to get on the Bloor line at Lansdowne, hop off at Ossington to get money from an ATM, back on until Yonge station, then take the Yonge line to North York Centre. Despite only a 40-minute window, I made it on time to a Taiwanese fusion cafe called Petit Potato.

Last time here, I enjoyed their pan-Asian food with a dash of European-style desserts. This time, it was a more pedestrian meal for me. Perhaps they didn't do Japanese dishes as well since by accident we ordered all Japanese fare: omurice with chicken cutlet ($16.99 lunch special), pork gyoza ($7.99 add-on), and takoyaki ($10.49). Everything was just so-so, even the edamame was limp and bland. But the Earl Grey mille crepe cake ($12.99) was a good end to the meal.

My ex-coworker's temporary hiatus has transitioned into early retirement. With elderly relatives needing to be managed (health care, a life-time of personal belongings, and so on), an introverted child having trouble breaking into a hi-tech field that favours braggadocio, and prioritizing their own well-being (running, yoga, sleep), they didn't have the bandwidth to look for work at this late stage in the game. My current coworker was still at it but with married children, they were planning on how to transfer assets such as property in a tax-effective way. In fact, our discussion revolved mostly around retirement including various health issues, government benefits, and other grey-haired topics.

On the way back to my studio rental, I got off early at Bloor and Delaware to grab a veggie plate from Laziza for dinner. When this Middle-Eastern takeout opened about a decade ago, this entrée was only $8.99. But this meal was now $14.99. Though some employees were stingier than others, you could generally expect a good amount of food in the container. Today's taciturn server wasn't one of the regular workers behind the counter. From my vague recollection, he was typically miserly. But this time he piled on so much food that there was enough for two meals. The container was so hefty that I had to alternate arms while carrying it. Even with the higher price, I won't find this sort of deal in Ottawa.

Ong Tay, Ba Dam

Friday morning at my Airbnb rental, I was going to go to the Tim Hortons near Bloor and Lansdowne for a quick breakfast at 9. Then I found out that Daily Grind at St Clarens offered brunch. I have passed by this café countless times but I thought they only sell coffee. I'm not interested in a latte and not even a Vietnamese coffee, but do they offer Vietnamese-inspired dishes?

On the typical brunch list of French toast, pancakes, eggs and bacon, there was one such item: a take on the croque madame called Viet Madame ($17). It was two enormous slab of brioche with melted cheddar on the outside, gooey Swiss cheese on the inside, and a sunny-side-up egg perching precariously on top. The ham component was lemon grass marinated pork loin. The whole thing was too big (but not francesinha big) so I was glad I chose salad instead of potatoes for my side. Overall, it was an ok breakfast but much too dry. Either they forgot the Bechamel or their take on a croque madame's sauce was lacking.

The brunch area, through an archway next to their main coffee-only space, was clean and minimalist. But the exposed brick felt warm and homey. At least half of the room was the kitchen, so there was only 4 tables and a few seats at a counter. The service seemed a tad slow given that there was only 1 other occupied table: 2 brothers showing their Latino parents the hipster life in West-End Toronto. It'll probably pick up later on but at this early hour, it was mostly locals stopping by for a quick caffeine fix.

On the way back to the house, I saw application billboards for two new condos: one at Lansdowne and Bloor, and the other just a few steps away at St. Helen's replacing the Value Village building.

Teke To The Limit

From my short-term stay, I headed along Dundas St. W and down Dovercourt to Longboat Hall. This basement venue below the main Great Hall can be great and transcendent but also dull and listless especially for openers. What kind of show will I see tonight?

It didn't start well with experimental rock band Animatist. In a different venue, with a different audience (preferably chemically enhanced), their skittering EDM meets Colin Stetson might connect with the crowd. Tonight's set only got cheers from their friends but luckily they play "gapless sets" so applause wasn't necessary. Their percussive but noisy sound reminded me of this show at Somewhere There, when Sterling Road was still industrial. But I did enjoy Animatist slightly more tonight.

Headliner Teke Teke was a Japanese psych-rock outfit from Montreal. I was intrigued from a short set I saw on Youtube. In person, they were a high-energy band that combined surf rock, punk, funk-esque base lines, and complex poly-rhythm. I was pleasantly surprised that they had included more East Asian melodies and harmonies (especially in the guitars) than a band like Tricot that does not stray too far from a Western sound. Trombone, flute, and lead singer Kuroki's vocals often interplayed in dynamic ways. The most crazy-but-it-works moment came when the trombonist switched over to a bagpipe. Sometimes a song moves into a pulsing, trance-like loop that reminded me of Ethiopian music or the circular guitar of Aroara. It was a fun set that was both dance-able and sonically interesting.

Almost Paradise

On Thursday morning, I headed to Toronto for a short visit. All week, there was warning that a volatile weather system will cause havoc. Sure enough, snow and ice pellets piled up overnight in Ottawa. But amazingly the bus arrived in Toronto early (by a few minutes). It's often 30 minutes late even with perfect weather.

But it must be the Toronto effect because everything felt great. Even the setting sun seemed to glow winsomely. There was no snow here, just a pleasant fall afternoon. By 4:30 pm in Ottawa, I can barely keep my eyes open. But in Toronto I was invigorated amid the throng of pedestrians and cyclists. Even the cars were a part of the lively scene, probably because they can't travel faster than 40 km/h.

 It has been 6 months instead of the usual 3 since my last visit to the dentist. So there seems to be more gunk than usual when I rinsed after my cleaning. Though I appreciated his expert treatment, to charge an exam fee plus 0.5 unit of polish and 3 scaling units ($261 total) for 10 minutes of work was highway robbery. Afterwards, feeling ravenous instead of merely lethargic, I crossed the street to Pam's Roti for a chicken roti dinner. I was happy to see the regular worker there. Their eye operation didn't fix everything and they'll have to go back in early December for more surgery. I wished them luck because everyone seems to be having health issues.

I inhaled the curry chicken wrapped in a toothsome dhal puri shell. Was it always this large? Pam's has replaced the bland lettuce side dish with a tasty slaw. At $14.95 all in, you won't find such deals in Ottawa for flavour, portion size, and price.

For this visit, I found an Airbnb around my former stomping grounds of Bloorcourt and Bloordale. More precisely, it was at the edge of my old neighbourhood just down the street from where sin meets salvation. While I was unpacking, a cleaner knocked on my door. He hadn't quite finish setting out the toiletry. He also gave me a quick peek of the other rooms. I snooped around more thoroughly later on since there were no other guests Thursday night. It was obvious that these all used to be rental units: mine would have been a studio/bachelor. I think renters would be thrilled to continue to live in these ("rustically charming") apartments with exposed brick walls and hard-wood floor. But alas, they've been off the market for about 7 years to serve as pricey overnight rentals.

It's great these options exist now so people don't have to always stay in a bland hotel room in the touristy part of downtown. But if I was landlord, I would only set aside 1 unit for visitors, leaving the rest as long-term rentals for local residents. This would be a win for everyone. In any case, the cleaner wasn't my host. He was a next-door neighbour helping out while the owner was laid up from back surgery.

Even within the six months, many changes were afoot. The foundation for the massive construction at Dufferin and Bloor has been laid. Little Mexico (La Tortilleria, Latin World, Tierra Azteca) has a new contender at a former Ethiopian restaurant which was, ironically, once a Mexican place 15 years ago. A drug store replaced one of the last Portuguese business. But once the neighbourhood has gentrified, it was over for a hyper-local place that sells some women's clothes but mostly children's garments for religious rites like baptism and first communion. Across from the library at Gladstone, Taco Bell will try where Starbucks once failed. Fried chicken instead of vegan diner food is on the menu a block away. I was surprised that long-time stalwart The Common has shuttered and moved in with Wenona Lodge. But a coffee shop that closes at 4 and a bar that opens at 7 pm make perfect sense. Finally, will clayArt Studio and Sad Songs Cantina near Lansdowne survive? While some succeed, numerous trendy shops have also failed in semi-gentrified Bloordale. What will the next six months bring?

Doh-tawa

It's true I've been ragging on Ottawa ever since I moved back. But it's hard to give a thumbs up when even minor things are aggravating. For example: I'll be spending a few days in Toronto soon so I was buying tickets for travel and upcoming events. But since my 8-year-old BlackBerry will often turn itself off if unplugged, I couldn't trust it for displaying the e-tickets. So I needed physical copies.

It turns out the Ottawa Public Library supports mobile printing as of this past February. Toronto has had this service for years but better late than never. So I uploaded the relevant PDFs and headed downtown to the main branch. The printing stations took my money, flushed their queue (by sending my docs to the printers), but nothing was actually printed. No one could help me and it became moot when they stopped being able to log into their own work computer.

Over the next 2 weeks, this remained a problem as I visited several different branches. Some were pleasantly nestled in a charming neighbourhood ... but still. It was only after I put my docs on a USB stick that the library staff found a local workaround. During that visit to the St. Laurent and Montreal Rd location, I dropped by Ogilvie Pizza because they offered by-the-slice for lunch. 2 slices + a pop for $6.99 (all in) seemed a good deal. The first few bites of cheese-covered pepperoni were good, but the meal fizzled out because the dough was simply too bland. So my disappointment of Ottawa remains.

This past Sunday was actually a pleasant experience as my friend was hosting a belated birthday. Yes, it has been a year since we've seen each other. In any case, their spouse was an accomplished home cook so the meal included tuna tataki, shrimp with wasabi salsa, and other tasty appetizers. The entrees were Singaporean fried rice with grilled chicken and meatballs, and a delicious Thai curry noodle.

The birthday guest and their family had years of construction woes but they've finally moved in (including the grandparents). It was apparently a large multi-generational home that even had a small elevator. I'd like to have that house tour! My host also did some minor renovation and were generally doing okay. But their sibling continued to struggle with health issues: the cancer has spread to several other organs. I bid them good-night and not to be a stranger.

Ant And Grasshopper

On Saturday, I visited my grandma for lunch. I saw her a few weeks ago at a house party. But I wanted to drop off some magazines for her to read. The bus-only Transitway is being converted to an LRT line, so there were numerous detours.

As usual, she tells me stories about the old days. This time, she remarked that several of her kids and grand-kids (like myself) have few friends. She also didn't have many as a child and now at 95-years-old and living in another country, even fewer nowadays. Yet a solitary nature isn't the only thing I inherited, there is also a tendency to miserliness.

It's true that my culture usually hoard money. When the old country didn't have a robust banking system, you either buy land and houses or you keep your wealth as cash and gold. The former has its own problems, with many in the diaspora buying up properties here and contributing in their own way to the housing crisis. As for the latter, my grandma has thousands of dollars stashed away in her room.

I've emulated her for years, at least in the electronic banking sense. I finally talked to a financial advisor a few weeks ago. He was sanguine about it, but he probably told his wife later about his new hoarder client. We will hammer out more details about my financial plans in the coming days. But I suspect retirement isn't any time soon.