Sadies and Bloodshot Bill at Sala Rossa

The Sadies are a band that changed my life.

Many years ago, while collecting boxes for packing from Kinkos for my upcoming move to New Brunswick, I overheard a girl on the phone telling her friend that she "had sex with the singer from the Sadies" and "he was in her bed now." I'd seen the Sadies several times in Toronto at that point and I had friends who swooned over Dallas Good and practically pinned me to a table at the Horseshoe when I said I'd introduce them to him (not that I knew him, but I was drunk and life was good so why not...). Keep in mind that there are two singers in the Sadies and seriously, the girl could have been BSing. But that doesn't matter. What does matter is this: upon overhearing this important phonecall, I turned around, expecting to see some kind of supermodel. In my mind, only the hottest of the hot hooked up with people in bands. Instead, I saw a girl who couldn't have been taller than me (I'm short), who looked a little unkempt but kind of cool at the same time, and just... well... regular... like me. My entire worldview shifted. I realized that I could change my life at that moment and I was going to become the kind of person who could hook up with the boys in the band (not the Sadies, of course, but any band). Perhaps not a lofty high minded goal, but a goal that fit my mental state at the time, which was... very, very, very low following a very, very, very sad separation from my husband. It was the first goal I had in a very long time and for that reason, monumental.

And so, my life changed. I went to New Brunswick and did things I never thought I would do. I extended myself. I became friendly with bands and artists, had a radio show (which this very blog is named for), and found my way back to true self.

For this, I thank the Sadies.

The reason for this lengthy, and quite personal, preamble is this. A Sadies show is a religious experience for me. I get to worship at the temple of music. The Sadies can do no wrong in my eyes. So, all I can do is gush. The audience was electric. The dancing was aces up. The Sadies play long, kick ass sets and never seem to miss a favorite. They even threw in a few by the Unintended. What else can I say? These guys are the cat's ass and every time I see them, the magic of possibility is renewed. 30 songs of main set, 10 in an encore, and then three more in a second encore. Greg Keillor (I was asked by the boy next to me who he was. It made me want to cry. I am that old that people who dance around me no longer know Greg Keillor) played a few. Now, with smashed toes, sore muscles, and sweat on very part of my body, I think I can say, this was (as expected) an excellent show.

A few words about Bloodshot Bill... I love that guy. He's so... weird. He'll never get mistaken for a Canadian Idol contestant with his yodels, moans, shrieks, and piercing holler. But, he's got so much heart that I swear he's got some piece of the Elvis spirit in his pocket. He warmed things up nicely at the start of the set, with a one man performance with energy that could only be matched by a Freshman on his fourth Redbull.

Sink, Swim, and Kick. Crépuscule des Océans at Agora de la Danse

This is the second time I have seen this piece performed at the Agora de la Danse in Montreal. For those of you who don’t know French, it means, “Twilight in the Ocean.” In every way imaginable, the seven performers who make up this piece capture the movements and struggle of sea creatures as they either awaken, settle, mate, and die.
To begin, the piece combines both nude and clothed dancers. The erotic effect of this quickly wears off and instead, the bodies of the dancers become the costumes. Watching every muscle tighten and release, and every breath gulped into their rib cages causes their bodies to become animalistic. The effect is captivating, and the lighting of the entire piece causes the surface lines of the body to look sculptural.

Set the Beethoven, each “movement” involves pairs or trios of dancers that repeat the same, or similar movements, sometimes synchronosly, and sometimes in a more rhythmic pattern. This mimics ocean waves, as well as the way animals tend to mirror one another. Periodically, the choreographer throws in something humorous that prevents these movements from becoming too stiff an distant from the audience. Inbetween are narrative type duet-dances that show the creatures interacting with one another, generally in a way that implies a mating ritual. The nudity of the dancers during these movements further suggests this. One small mall asks another to spin him around. A female tries to grab the ankle of a swimmer, only to find that she is left behind. These moments turn the dancers into characters, and each character is endearing and unique. When one of them goes belly up, it is a sad moment.

Most striking of all is the difficulty of this dance. Daniel Léveillé does this intentionally, stressing not gracefulness but impossible challenges. The moves are taken from a variety of styles, though yoga poses and a kind of kick boxing is evident. The dancers hurl themselves from one pose into the next, with beautiful wildness and violence. Their bodies slam against the stage with incredible toe-breaking force. It is impossible to maintain accuracy and this is part of the beauty of the whole piece. Life is a struggle in the wild. Only the strongest survive. Yet, even the strongest do not always finish in the same state in which they began. That is evidenced here, where the dance wears down each dancer. Imperfection is made beautiful here. The choreography is designed to be impossible and to push the limits of stamina.

Not Much Compassion for Sympathy for the Devil at the Musee d'Art contemporain

Slater Bradley
The Year of the Doppelganger, 2004
Courtesy of the artist and Team Gallery

In conjunction with the Warhol exhibit at the Museum of Fine Arts, the Montreal Contemporary Art Museum is running an exhibit on the relationship between art and rock music today. With mixed media presentations, including a working recording studio, the exhibit takes the visitor on a tour through various countries that dominated the music scene since the 1967.

I’ll begin with the recording studio, since it is a somewhat of a treat to see a performance art piece that sustains for such a long period of time. Rirkrit Tiravanija created a “silent” recording studio, where the instruments are fed into a recording consul rather than an amp. This keeps the room quiet, though it is possible to listen with headphones that surround the studio. Musicians are allowed to book one hour of time during the museum opening hours, so visitors see whoever happens to have booked the time slot. This is, in many ways, a taste of not just the experience of seeing an aquarium-like perspective of how a recording studio works, but also, what the studio itself experiences as different groups of musicians work within its confines.

The rest of the exhibit is hit or miss. Most pieces are concept pieces, and without an explanation remain mysterious and somewhat uninspired. The hits include three gigantic pieces by Robert Longo who depicted dancers of the 1980s club scene in New York in graphite (pencil) and charcoal. These iconic writhing bodies are a dynamic study of the experience of movement and its contrast with one’s profession (he depicts “the suits”). Richard Prince’s portrait photos of an assemblage of artists such as David Byrne, Tina Weymouth, Laurie Anderson, and Dee Dee Ramone seem less impressive in the day of the cell phone camera, where candid shots of celebrities are commonplace. Andy Warhol’s screen tests of Lou Reed, John Cale, and Maureen Tucker, though, are a good compliment to the exhibit down the street at the Museum of Fine Arts.

Moving through pieces from artists of continental Europe and the UK, the art is less interesting and the musicians less familiar. From World works, Yoshimoto Nara’s drawings are quick splash of the familiar amidst a largely unaccessablem, if not just boring, exhibit.

Warhol Live Music and Dance in Andy Warhol’s Work at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts

I remember Andy Warhol’s white hair first and foremost. He had a show in 1986 on MTV back when cable was young and MTV played music. It’s too bad that my sense of history was so brief since I could not appreciate the long relationship Warhol had with music. It is no surprise that towards the end of his life, he got involved with music’s latest incarnation: the music video. And, as the song goes, video killed the radio star. Well, not exactly, but Warhol managed to keep up with every shift in music’s sharp edge through his entire life.

The MFA exhibition examines the relationship between Warhol and music, starting with his earliest love of movie musicals with Shirley Temple and opera, progressing through his Stuido 54 days (to quote Warhol, “It was a dictatorship at the door, a democracy on the floor.”) While most people know Warhol produced the Velvet Underground, which practiced in his studio, I was surprised to learn that Warhol was even part of a band, in which Jasper Johns sang lead.

The 640 works on view for this exhibit include some Warhol pieces that don’t relate to music – but these are far and few between. On the whole, Warhol’s record covers, Interview magazine, and portraits of singers and musicians dominate. The major pieces, Elvis, Marilyn, Liza Minnelli, Grace Jones, Mick Jagger, and Debbie Harry are well known and presented in a way that they seem part of Warhol’s interest of the moment. Interestingly enough, his record covers are as symbolic of his greatest desire – to mass produce art – and in some ways are even more representative than what one thinks of as Warhol’s emblematic pieces.

The exhibit draws on the collection of one of the four Carnegie Museums of Pittsburgh, the Andy Warhol Museum, which supplements the holdings of the MMFA and private collectors. On the whole, the amount of material is simply overwhelming. Warhol touched every single medium imaginable, from screen printing to video to cinematic shorts to sketches and it seems he was interested in every single variant of music as well: dance, opera (he was an opera fiend), disco, rock, vocalists, punk, and experimental.

http://www.mmfa.qc.ca/micro_sites/warhol/expo_en.html

What Happened? Barry Levinson made a great film, that's what happened

There's nothing like a Hollywood Funeral for an agent who makes 10%
Robert De Niro and John Turturro star in Barry Levinson's What Just Happened, an Alliance Films' release.

If you think you’ve had a bad two weeks, ask Ben (Robert De Niro), an executive producer for a number of major Hollywood pictures. He’s got two issues in particular. First, his latest project, Firefly, starring Sean Penn, has received horrible reviews with the test audience. The money people want the film edited. The director wants his vision respected. The film is set for Cannes at the end of the week… Second, Bruce Willis has shown up on the set with a Grizzly Adams beard and about 20-30 extra pounds. The money people are going to pull out if the beard isn’t gone by Friday. Mr. Willis thinks his artistic integrity is being compromised.

Minor problems, perhaps, but with $25 million dollars on the line for each film, along with the livelihood of directors, gaffers, agents, and a whole host of supporting staff… Ben has a heavy load on his shoulders.
As he drives from place to place in his SUV Porche, Ben attempts, at least on occasion, to find a moment or two for intimacy with his ex-wife, his teenage daughter, and a woman who straddles the border between elite call girl and… um… actress. However, the cell phone takes precedence, and any attempt to have a meaningful connection with others, outside of work concerns, is back burnered.

De Niro delivers an amazing performance as Ben, the man who will lie if he needs to, bullshit when necessary, and hustle to please those who must be pleased. Without explicitly stating it, he wrestles with his conscience. Should he allow addicted director Jeremy to keep Firefly as is? Should he strike a film deal with someone who has been sleeping with his ex wife? Does the situation change if Brad Pitt has agreed to be in the film? With the same contained violence about to explode that he brought to Raging Bull and the Godfather, De Niro’s character conveys a man barely graceful under intense pressure. His brooding silence is sometimes all he has left in most circumstances, as his brain calculates what must be done to make the show go on.

Hollywood usually does a wonderful job parodying itself. The film is sharp and witty from start to finish and manages to show the drama inherent in everyday situations. Gripping drama is created over such topics as an argyle sock, and, of course, the multi-million dollar question: Will Bruce Willis shave his beard? The film also manages to raise questions about sincerity, or rather, it points out that truth is relative to one’s immediate needs and one’s situation. Ethics are something one must balance against the attention of the reigning hierarchy. Discomfort is a constant theme, especially how much a man will endure in his quest for money and power. The cast does an incredible job fleshing out the supporting roles by Bruce Willis (as himself), Sean Penn (as himself), directors (Michael Wincott), agents (John Turturro), script writers (Stanley Tucci), money people (Catherine Keener), associates, and, of course, family members.

Zach and Miri Make a Porno And Damn, I'd Like to See It

I think I have a massive crush on Seth Rogen.
Seth Rogen and Elizabeth Banks star in Zack and Miri Make a Porno, an Alliance Films' release. Darren Michaels/The Weinstein Co. 2008

Many years ago, back when people had big hair and wore shoulder pads, a movie was made in which a man and a woman who were friends finally confessed their love for one another and had sex, though not necessarily in that order. The climax of said movie, no pun intended, was when the female character faked an orgasm in a deli in order to demonstrate the ease with which a woman makes a man feel… beastly.

I hated that movie.

Fortunately, the theme of how friends can become lovers is visited in a much zanier comedy, Zach and Miri Make a Porno. Apparently, the audience with which I sat barely twittered, while I had two hands over my mouth at the seedy suburban humor of director/writer Kevin Smith.

Although Seth Rogen is better known from his role in the Judd Aptow films, he proves to be every inch his manly, likable self in Smith’s film. Smith has moved away, fortunately, from the divine and the improbable, sticking to things that are merely… well... possible ... assuming that all planets were aligned and Mercury had gone into retrograde. The point is that this film is more grounded in a conceivable reality and as a result is better than some of Smith's last few ventures. With the fantastic repartee one comes to expect from a Smith film and a very sweet set of characters, the home grown porn industry looks almost like family fun.

The story, quite simply, is that roommates and best friends Zach (Seth Rogen) and Miri (Elizabeth Banks), are broke and have lost both power and water in their run down apartment. An accidental You Tube moment, in which Miri’s grandmother sized flowery underwear become the hit of the web, leads to a scramble to produce their own porno -- Star Whores. Sadly, the soundstage, costumes, camera, and props meet an unfortunate accident with a wrecking ball, and the entire motley crew turns to Zach’s place of employment, a coffee shop, instead.

Situation aside, the movie is truly about the unrealized love that binds Miri and Zach. Their jealousy, their pride, and their desire for each other is the point of the film. No matter how awesome Tracy Lords is as Bubbles, the film would not work unless Rogen and Banks brought the right chemistry and energy to the film. Fortunately, they do. They are fantastic and their situation, although sometimes a little on the saccharine side, is very real. Their genuine feelings override the zaniness of the situation.

I am happy to think Smith has resurrected his career and has returned the spotlight to barristas and people from the Class of 199X who didn’t just lose their retirement funds on wall street last month. This film is an enjoyable romp that will delight most audiences who appreciate anal sex-vibrator-saggy balls humor.

Napoleon Exhibit at the Musee des Beaux Arts in Montreal

Napoleon, painted by Francois Gerard


He's short and stout, like a little tea pot. He wrote dirty letters to his wife that she shouldn't bathe until he got home. He hung out in Egypt for awhile, and controlled a major Empire in the wake of the French Revolution. Yes, the man of the moment is Napoleon. He, like many of the world's greatest leaders in history, attracts a following even now.

Right under our noses, Ben Weider amassed a collection of memorbillia and art related to Napoleon and the First Empire. Weider made a gift of his collection to the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. Starting October 23, 2008, the museum opened its new galleries to display this collection along with loaned and donated objects from other generous patrons. Furniture, clocks, clothing, enamels, bronzes, sculptures, painting, and works in other media make up the collection.

The exhibit is a delightful assemblage, well worth a visit. Personal effects bring Napoleon into close proximity to the visitor. I was especially struck by the cocked hat. This hat is one of the few authenticated hats worldwide, and was worn during Napoleon's failed Russian campaign. The hat is lined with silk, in order to protect Napoleon from the harsh winter weather, and adorned with a small tricolor cockade stitched on near the point. Its worn appearance coupled with its iconic familiarity is intimate and poignant.

No Napoleonic exhibit would be complete without some of the carefully tailored portraiture, the bread and butter of propaganda. Napoleon cuts a striking pose as First Consul in a painting by Andrea Appiani from Milan. Heroic, stately, attractive... Napoleon was something of a looker in the early days. However, the more familiar, more regal portraits are included as well, such as a bust length portrait of Napoleon in his coronation robes from the workshop of Baron Francois-Pascal-Simon Gerard in Rome. Napoleon liked the painting so much that he had multiple copies produced of this image and distributed them to foreign dignitaries and diplomats, as well as redone in prints, porcelains, and medallions. Complementing this official image is a neo-classical marble sculpture of the late Napoleon done by the Danish sculptor Bertel Thorvaldsen.

Overall, this exhibit does a fine job of bringing together grand pieces with more humble objects. Nothing is lost or overshadowed in the display. Montreal is lucky to have such a generous donor in Weider and he deserves a hearty Merci for offering his collection to the public. Perhaps others will follow his example in years to come.

Montreal Museum of Fine Arts
1380 Sherbrooke West
514-285-2000
Guy-Concordia Metro, or buses along Sherbrooke
Permanent Collection is Free, Tuesday-Friday 11-17h; Sat/Sun 10-17 h