Kreviazuk Revisited

The Chantal Kreviazuk and Edmonton Symphony Orchestra concert I went to on November 1st confirmed that there are no bad performances at the Winspear. I've enjoyed many inspiring shows at the Winspear (Rufus Wainwright, Sarah Slean) and last Monday's event did not digress. Though we were in what are technically the nosebleeds of the venue, the acoustics were paramount and our view was what was to be expected (though I was jealous of the woman in front of us for having
brought binoculars). Chantal, as we are now on a first-name-basis, revived in me a nostalgia that transported me back to a time of innocence and first-love giddiness. I have to admit that I did not remain a consistent Kreviazuk fan throughout the years and have thus missed a lot of her progression as an artist. Like most children of the '90s, much of my Kreviazuk appreciation comes from her 1997 hits on the Under These Rocks and Stones album and her infamous cover of "Leaving on a Jet Plane". So, when Chantal busted-out "Time" with her mesmerizing piano play and diva stylistics, I was whisked back to a time when I was a Club-Monaco-sweatshirt-wearing, F.R.I.E.N.D.S-watching teen. Adolescence, scarring as it was, was a time when I had an open heart and was unjaded about the world. Chantal unlocked those same emotions in me during her performance. I suddenly felt the overwhelming feeling of invincibility that I had when I was a teen, a care-free optimism that is only possible through the eyes of a self-absorbed, naive teenager. I was similarly jolted by "Surrounded", especially because of the back story to the song (it's about Chantal's first love, an outgoing, kind, and extremely artistic young man who sadly took his own life). As the songs were originally written for piano accompaniment, having the orchestra in the performance made for a grandiose, theatrical sound. During the concert I realized that this is my ultimate concert experience, going to a well-designed venue, sitting in comfortable seats, faintly experiencing nostalgia, and being inspired by musical genius. As I left the concert and continued on with my life, I was left with bit of teen fearlessness and a hope that my jaded adult worldview would be instilled with a hint of adolescent optimism.

La Boheme

REadmonton has been on a brief hiatus, not because there haven't been amazing artistic happening in this northern city, but because there have been too many. In brief, last week's La Boheme at the Jubilee Auditorium was magical and fervor-laden. As a first-time opera goer, I found my experience lived up to my outlandish preconceptions. Though our seats were bohemian , I was able to make out the decadent set and the delicate intricacies of the costumes, especially Mme Musetta's wardrobe (though most of us were likely enchanted by her elaborate bodice for obvious reasons). Puccini's depiction of the Bohemians of Paris in the 1830s was one of great respect and appreciation for artistic dedication. I found the opera to be one of a political nature where respect was reserved for the pauper and ridicule for the rich. That being said, there wasn't an overpowering sense of agenda, and I found that plot was little to be found in the opera. But, where plot is lacking in La Boheme, it makes up for in artistry and beauty from vocal anomalies, costume, and stage decor. In short, La Boheme was a night out well enjoyed and instigated contempalation over getting season's tickets for next year.

I lamented two things 1) not bringing binoculars to more closely inspect the stage and 2)having parked on the "third" floor of the Jubilee parkade (as this resulted in breathing in exhaust for 40 minutes from 100s of vehicles, of ostensibly cultured folk who don't how to turn off their engines while waiting to exit).

Subsequent entry- Chantal Kreviazuk and the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra, and a single reminicent tear shed for nostalgia's sake.

From an in depth analysis apparently...

I write like
Dan Brown

I Write Like by Mémoires, Mac journal software. Analyze your writing!

Trash Talk

'Trash Talk' is a creative writing exercise of sorts that spawned from ordering a to-go chai latte from my new favourite cafe, Transcend. As their take-out containers are deliciously made from compostable material, the guilt of having forgotten my coffee cup was lessened. The container, its structure and feel, made quite an impact on me and inspired the following writing exercise.

Talking trash, in colloquial terms, is about venting. It's about ranting about an incident that has perturbed you, or anonymously spazing (this is the technical term) about someone who has upset the flow of your day. Trash Talk, as the writing exercise, combines venting with sustainability practices and experimental composition. The idea behind it is that you reclaim an item that has been intended for trash and use it as your medium to write upon. The recovered trash is not only the medium upon which to write, it is also the muse to write about, if one so wishes.

In my to-go cup writing exercise, I thought it would be humorous to look at the concept of biodegradable from the cup's perspective. In a sense the cup is venting about being a finite object. And so came about the genesis of the Trash Talk poem 'Untitled':


I biodegrade when
tossed out, how
degrading is that?

Pharaohs were
embalmed to be
preserved for all time.

Even kindergartner's
art work is laminated.

Enjoy your soy chai
latte and feel
environmentally friendly sound
while I
whither to
the ground. ~cup

Read Between The Lines

The Mathmagician

I was desperate to check out the M.C. Escher The Mathmagician exhibit before it closed and, of course, I put off going until the last weeks of it being at the AGA. Escher (1898-1972) was born in Leeuwarden, the Netherlands, a stones throw from the province I was born. Like any Dutch family, mine had a print of the originally titled Hand With Reflecting Sphere hanging in a discrete hallway and this, inevitably, catalyzed my appreciation for Escher.As the Dutch, myself included, are not known for their gregariousness, especially towards one another, Escher, as a fellow countryman was to be harshly criticized. My scrutiny of Escher at the AGA exhibit, however, proved that his world renowned status as artist extraordinaire is a highly merited one. His work exudes thoughtfulness, contemplation, and complexity to a craft that was novel if not unknown for his time.

The humble-sized Escher exhibit at the AGA was sizable enough to wetten one's three- dimensional jowls as it were. For reasons unbeknownst to me, the Escher exhibit shared a space with an Acme cartoon expose. And though Bugs Bunny and Gogo Wackston the Dodo are dually important icons of the last century, it seemed odd that they would chaperon Escher here. Though momentarily entranced by a Wile E. Coyote + anvil conundrum, I somehow made it the Escher corridor. The exhibit's layout follows much of the chronology of Escher's life, travels, and artistic development. The first works depict the artist’s experimentation with the division of two dimensional surfaces. These preliminary works include Eight Heads, which is a print from a woodcut stencil(!). From the graphically-charged images of Escher's first works, the exhibit moves into the works Escher created in the 12 years he lived in Italy. These images are landscape-inspired and some have dreamlike qualities, like his infamous Castle in the Air The final section displays Escher's works that depict his interest in the world around him. Here he plays with perspective and illusions of depth so that the mathematician turns magician. The notorious Day and Night hangs here.

A more intimate look at Escher's work made me appreciate its intricacy and peculiarity. It makes me think that in his day Escher must have been quite the catch- for a dutch guy!

The Fringe: Blinking will cause memory loss

The Fringe is one of Edmonton's most, if not the most, anticipated theatre events of the year. And rightfully so as it is seamlessly organized, in high demand, and privy to critically acclaimed performances. The Fringe to some is liken to buying a condo- a life altering occasion. And if you're not willing to put in the time and effort of reading reviews or standing in lines for tickets, then you will most likely end up a) seeing a show that your little brother could have preformed in your basement in your high school band costume that you no longer fit or b) not seeing a show at all and be forced into directing your little brother's basement play that you thought was a bad idea in the first place.

Aside from the fact that it was impossible to see the shows I actually want to see at the Fringe, I did end up seeing a few things worth mentioning here. Social Sundays, put on by Rapid Fire Theatre was a hilarity to watch. What started out as a Gatsby affair soon shifted into a Wes Anderson esque absurdity at which one can't but laugh. The local actors involved proved to be of fine caliber and made their show all the more enjoyable to watch and reflect back on later. It also didn't hurt they play's success that the attractive female lead Molly Flood spent the final twenty minutes on stage in her underwear.

An outdoor shows that got my attention included the impressive ninja a capella stylings of Apocalypse Kow. My friend and I got our afternoon groove on to songs such as Paparazzi, Yesterday, and something that I think was an entire level of sonic the hedgehog background music. The best thing about seeing street performances is is that they're free -KIDDING! The best thing is that you can see some amazing talent out in the open air all the while soaking in all the wonderful carnival smells. Why is it that seeing a performance outdoors makes people jump off the health food wagon and consume a years worth of calories on elephant ears and green onion cakes?

I wrapped up fringe season by going to a show with a friend of mine "in the know" of the Edmonton theatre scene. We decided to go see Die Roten Punkte because we had heard good things about it. The two Australians cum Germans put on an entertaining show about a brother-sister punk band. The show/concert revealed the turmoils of the siblings lives in an entertaining and humorous fashion yet did not rock my world as it had been rocked in 2004 when I saw a one woman show of which I sadly do not know the name.

All in all I was disappointed by this years Fringe, not because there weren't great shows but because I didn't get to see them! I was desperate to see 7(x1) Samurai and my wounds were only minimally soothed when I got a hand bill from the one man himself (David Gaines). Wanderlust was another one that I really want to see but was sold out through the teeth by the time I heard wind of its incredulity. Hoboheme, also put on by a local group, was among those that sadly I failed to see. So for next year I've learned a few pretty intuitive things, get tickets before the shows are popular and not to wait for Todd Babiuk or Liz Nichols' two cents because, although they're ever so valuable, they pretty much come out when the festival is over.

Edmonton Street Performers Festival

Along with the other festivals happening in town, early July's Street Performer's Festival in Churchhill square was yet another success. For a whole week Edmontonians got to enjoy the comedic and talent-fueled acts of artists from around the globe. The performances range from acrobatic to awe-inspiring to hilarious. My personal G-rated favourite was a young lady who goes by the pseudonym Becky Hoops. On a trip to the Tulip Festival in Ottawa last year, I had the pleasure of experiencing Becky Hoop's performance for the first time.

She is a fearless entertainer who gives street performance a new edge and authenticity that the crowd seems to really go for. Not only is she genuine and pleasant to look at, Becky Hoops is also rib-breakingly hilarious. Her act consists of well, hula hoops, lively music, a crowd-volunteerd dj, a crowd-volunteer boy-toy, and a daring closing act where Becky hula hoops all of her twenty odd hoops at once! We hope to see you back next year Becky!

Edmonton Festivals: A local perspective

I've been to some amazing events already this summer in Edmonton. A few weekends ago I was able to check out The Art Walk event on Whyte Avenue. The Art Walk, which happened from July 15-17 this year, is an opportunity for local artists to set up a mini studio/gallery out on the sidewalk amidst hundreds of fellow artists. There was a broad range of art to view and a sliding scale of talent from mediocre to life altering. Two of my new local favourites were there this year including Giselle Denis and Maria Pace-Wynters. Giselle Denis, who I've linked on my blog, is a refreshing young artist whose colourful images inspire feeling of whimsy and excitement, at least in my opinion. Maria Pace-Wynters' work is duelly colourful as she depicts charming clowns, children and other playful subjects against intricate, textured backdrops.

Additionally, I paid two visits to Heritage Days and was pleasantly surprised by the magnitude of Edmonton's ethnic diversity. It was visceral this past weekend that Edmonton is truly an international hub and one that works well at celebrating culture. Although I shamelessly started at the Dutch pavilion in lieu of my own heritage, I was easily lured away by the many tantalizing aromas that were wafting around Hawerlak Park. I have to say, I thoroughly enjoyed the Pakoras and the Chot-Poti at the Bangladesh booth and the Sukumawiki and Chapati at the Kenyan pavilion. What really shocked me though were the amount of chile-covered mangos-on-a-stick that were being consumed! I was so enticed by the walking advertisements that I decided to go to the Guatemala booth and get one myself. The fifty-man line, however, made me spend my food tickets on Danish Vinarterta instead. The music and apparel was great too, especially the garb found at the India tent by the lovely ladies who sell the Saraswati line. I can't wait to see what the infamous Fringe will have to offer us in a couple of weeks.

Living Water

A friend of mine got me excited about spring water and informed me that my hometown was a sequestered site for pristine spring water. This information catalyzed my subsequent quest for this living water that is known by underground wild 'foodies' as being the purest water on the planet.
Our trip to Open Creek Dam was dual purpose as there is not only an immaculate spring there but also a great lake free of motorized boats perfect for canoeing. After an adventurous canoe trip on which we found wild mint growing on the dam, we headed to the spring with our glass jugs.
Glass is perfect material for water containers as it is a pure material that does not leach anything into the water.

As we walked up to the spring we noticed it flowed out of a covered cistern into a marshy wooded area. We were excited to taste the water so we cupped our hands, dipped, and drank. It was clean, cold, and earthy tasting- unlike store bought or even tap water. I have no problem with tap water and am thankful for the sophisticated water treatment systems North America has. I have no desire to criticize tap water, but the spring water, with it's vivacious thirst-quenching abilities is definitely something to seek out and experience yourself~

Daniel Vitalis, a health and nutrition philosopher, has created a website called findaspring.com which maps out all of the "wild water" sites recorded by people across the globe.

Through a macro lens: The world

Oust, oust!

On a recent trip to Banff, Alberta I realized a few things. One is that the perks to city life are limited and the other is that the commodification of nature's beauty to tourists is a pity, but understandable. In the great out doors I feel liberated and humbled by nature's power. Seeing the rocky mountains is awe inspiring and it reassures me that nature's power overrides the abuses of human impact. That the crashing together of plates can expose the innards of the earth is astounding and almost abject. And, although the oil spill in the golf is wreaking havoc on the earth's eco-system, the existence of the Rockies almost assures me that earth will conquer the devastations of man's presence.



Banff is a lovely town in the heart of the Rocky mountains and I've often dreamed of living there. Harnessing power from the geological wonders around me and living in a tranquil and pure state of being. These reveries are soon stifled, however, when I see the tourism that so often flanks nature's wonders. The laissez-faire lifestyle that Banff epitomizes is so consciously packaged and marketed, that it attracts travelers from over the globe and, though I can understand that the beauty of this place is to be shared with other world citizens, I can't help but bereave the loss of authenticity that tourism brings to Alberta's national parks.



Although I lament the loss of a wilderness experience to tourism, I am comforted by the sheer strength behind nature; the force behind streams etching out their course into limestone beds, and the way a glacier's minerals can colour it's runoff and make an entire lake a fantastical sight. Though I mourn trees deadened by pine beetles, I celebrate the hundred year old spruces who mark their territory and anchor the soil. I marvel the ravens who keep watch over arbourous terrains, making man shudder as they swoop overhead. And though I grieve over fallen-grain eating black bears hit by trains on CN tracks, I smile at the fear for the wild that makes people respect nature, carry bells, and leave no trace.

Art Gallery of Alberta

On my morning jog a phrase cycled through my head: Le vent, il suffis de te rendre fou. To satiate my nerves, and my long overdue curiosity, I decided to spend my Sunday afternoon at the newly opened Art Gallery of Alberta. Accessing the establishment was easily done via LRT. I made my way to the admissions desk and from foyer's adorning posters soon found out that on this particular Sunday one could part take in Edgar Degas: Figures in Motion interactive play. As a result of this swarms of little art connoisseurs were traipsing the hallway to the Degas exhibit and the BMO World of Creativity room. After having paid for my ticket, I decided to work from the ground level up. The first exhibit displayed Goya's The Disasters of War and Los Caprichos- a deeply disturbing series of pencil drawings depicting the brutal oppression and violence inflicted upon civilians by the Monarchy and the Catholic church in Spain circa 1810. So, a truly uplifting way to start the tour.
The second exhibit was also the primary one of the gallery: Degas. The only Degas I could recall before entering the exhibit was something about ballerinas. As it turns out, Degas was fascinated with the form and motion. The exhibit had numerous sculptures depicting ballerinas. My personal favourites were those of the arabesque poses.
Niveau deux held a Karsh exhibit and a storm room. Yousuf Karsh is one of Canada's most notable portrait photographers. Some of his most famous subjects include Albert Einstein, Nelson Mandela, Carl Jung, and Queen Elizabeth. He also photographed Ravi Shankar, a world renowned sitar played, who, evidently, is also the father of Norah Jones!
The Murder of Crows exhibit by Janet Cardiff and George Bures Miller was a disturbing audible experience. My friend had recommended that I listen to the sound installation with my eyes closed as to fully appreciate the mastery of sound- and I suggest you do the same. The room consists of a circle of chairs where some chairs hold speakers and other chairs are intended for the listeners. The 30 minute installation is a compilation of a loose narrative told by a woman with an esoteric voice interspersed by musical interludes and accompanying soundtracks. I was literally scared at some points and as I heard the surround sound of army boots trampling beside me, I had to open my eyes to make sure it was just a recording!
As I stepped outside into the sunny and seemingly warm downtown, the phrase le vent, il suffis de te rendre fou still held true.

Russian Egg Painting

Working with a real-life Russian last year definitely exposed me to approaching life resourcefully (which, coincidentally, is also my favourite word in french 'debrouillard'). There's something truly rustic about the soviet way of doing things- colouring Easter eggs included. The eastern European way of colouring eggs is eco-friendly, artistic, resourceful (of course), cheap, easy, and tasty (afterwards).

What you will need:

Raw eggs (preferably white)
Onion skins from about 10 onions
Nylons, cut in sections, thicker is better
Leaves or other flat decorables found in nature
A large pot
Water

1) Begin by removing the onion skins and placing them in the large pot with water. Bring water to a boil and then let simmer for about twenty minutes. This allows the onion peels to colour the water.

2) While your onion skins are simmering, take an egg and a leaf, or whatever you want to imprint on the egg, and wrap it around the egg. Next, take a section of your nylon and place the egg and the leaf wrapped around it into the nylon casing. Tie the top and bottom ends of the nylon. This process is slightly arduous as the leaf won't easily stay on the egg while you're placing it in the nylon.

3) When all of your eggs are wrapped and in their nylon casing, transfer them into the onion dye. Bring the water back to a boil and boil the eggs for 10 minutes. If it is your intention to eat the eggs at some point, it is best not to over cook them. But if you want the imprint to really work, let the eggs boil for about 20 minutes. Turn element off and allow eggs to sit in the dye for an additional 10 minutes.

4) Remove eggs from water and allow them to cool. Remove nylon casing and examine how well the imprint worked. Some turn out better than others.

Through Black Spruce

I started reading Through Black Spruce amidst my other load of school readings. Though I'm barely halfway,I'm finding author Joseph Boyden's writing captivating and I'm finding his style somewhat of a vortex, one which is hard to look directly at but sucks you in at the same time. Reading a few chapters transports me into the body of a fifty-year-old Cree man with a drinking habit- shoes which I are foreign andslightly uncomfortable to travel in. Boyden's writing brings to life what common Canadians do not know about life in Northern Ontario. The characters have a raw connectedness with nature amidst the ever-trickling-in of urbanization. Modernity seems to take its negative toll on the youth of the small town of Moose Factory as the American construct of gangs inflicts violence on the seemingly innocent nature of the protagonist. Boyden's middle-aged protagonist, Will, seems to embody the last whisperings of an ancient culture and the youth are victim to hollow destiny's indicative of a media and consumer-driven society. Will's merited fear of the adolescent gang is Boyden's proselytization of a distant pure way of life soon to be usurped by one of hatred and violence.

Predictions:
-Willwill come out of his with a new found appreciation for life?
-Annie finds Suzanne in Toronto and tries to take her home but Suzanne has succumbed to a life of drug use and sex slavery?
-Will and Dorothy get it on?

Acrylic Gel Transfer

I've been submersed in the academic realm which is the U of A but not deep enough to hinder my love of, what I call, time maximization. I'm not quite a hedonist, but like to maximize the positive output of my time here on earth. Although this is a 'lit' blog, I'm changing the tune slightly today by talking about my new love, the gel transfer. 'twas only four score and ten months ago when I learned about the process at a dear friend's house in Montreal. Basically, a gel transfer is a process which transfers an image from one medium to another. Usually the initial image surface is paper and the second is canvas, word or for my friend Dan (http://touristiko.com/), an orange tool box. For images I've been using photographs I've taken in the recent past. And lately I've been taking pictures of things that would be particularly striking for a gel transfer. I've been taking a lot of colourful birds in bushes lately especially because I love the texture of the wood and the captured moment of life on camera. So, I upload my photos to a usb and go to my neighbourhood printers who print my photograph onto computer paper. I'm not sure if the ink needs toner in order for the transfer to work, but I know that the transfer did not work when I photocopied it.

1)The first step to is to choose a surface which you want the image on. I generally stick with canvas but have been experimenting with wooden surfaces as well.

2)Next, you take the acrylic medium, I find gel works best, and you coat the surface with the brush strokes going which ever way you like. Then you place the image face down onto the gelled surface,ensure that you've rubbed out all the air pockets,and allow it dry. I have waited only 10 minutes and it has worked but I find the results are generally better when you allow the acrylic medium to completely dry, which usually takes about 24 hours.

3)The best part of the process is removing the paper so only the mirrored image remains on the surface. In order to do this, just take a bowl of luke warm water and dip your index and middle finger into it. With your fingers rub the paper gently in a circular fashion until the paper starts to rub away. Be careful not to rub too hard because you will wipe away your image too! I've been there many times! This is a bit of a lengthy process depending on the size of the paper but I find it quite therapeutic.

4)Once all the paper has been rubbed away, allow for the image to dry. You might see that once it's dry that there is still some paper that needs to be rubbed away. When the paper is completely discarded, the image will look quite dull and washed out.

5)A good way to brighten your picture is to go over it with an acrylic gloss. And that's that!

Atwood trumpets art to global elite

Atwood on art, voting for the bloq, and lateral thinking for the future in her speech in Davos, Switzerland at the Economic Forum.

http://www.theglobeandmail.com/blogs/bureau-blog/margaret-atwood-trumpets-art-to-global-elite/article1446344/

Mmmmmm, Atwood

Is it just me or is Margaret Atwood bang on with her latest novel 'Year of the Flood'? As one Times reviewer so eloquently put it, she really does have, "her finger on the pulse of the future".

In terms of style and artistry, Atwood's writing comes across as bold and articulate. It is not immediately apparent that the ideas in the book are daring, however, as one becomes immersed in the plot, it soon becomes obvious that Atwood's novel is critiquing society at large. It becomes frightening how close to our own reality the majority of the themes in the book are. Atwood's insight on pharmaceuticals, religion, agriculture, food production, the cosmetic industry, and technology are projected into the future and amplified to create a monstrous reality for our future. Year of the Flood is yet another tale with which Atwood is begging us to look introspectively at our way of doing things in order to counteract the atrocious reality of the world created in this book.

Atwood's Gardeners are beacons of hope in the bleak reality of the novel and, I imagine, were characters difficult to surmise knowing the materialistic tendencies of today's status quo.

We can only hope that Atwood's Gardener's and their moving psalms were found in the elements of our society that work to sustain our environment and counteract consumerism.

Bubbleply

View the link below to see what this CBC Massey Lecturer has to say about climate change.
http://www.bubbleply.com/player.aspx?pid=128b041a-ee77-4a1f-bd84-176fcca0d9ee

Year of the Flood in chronological order (xtimeline2)

http://www.xtimeline.com/timeline/Year-of-the-Flood-in-Chronological-order

Shakespeare (xtimeline1)

xtimeline allows you to follow the timelines of people, concepts, institutions, and a myriad of other things. For the purpose of this site, I've attached a link to Shakespeare's timeline. It's well worth checking out.

http://www.xtimeline.com/timeline/William-Shakespeare-s-Colorful-Life

Edmonton Reads!

It may be the city of champions to some, home of the Oilers for others, and international materialist perpetuater by West Edmonton Mallers, but to me, Edmonton is the city where I learned to appreciate r.e.a.d.i.n.g.

This blog is for fellow bookies (?) like myself who appreciate well-crafted literature and aren't ashamed to admit that they too display their books in their home trophy case known as the bookshelf.

I'm aiming for a space where we can converse and share ideas on literature young and old, classic and contemporary, from controversial and insightful essays to light-hearted yet inspiring fluff reads.

Veux-tu me joindre?