Category Archives: Canada is the Greatest Nation on Earth

Louis Goes to Stratford: The Prelude

Arts, Canada is the Greatest Nation on Earth, Entertainment, Events, Music, theatre

On Friday, August 16, at about 3:45 PM, I punched in the last period of the last sentence of my last summer exam and, in doing so, granted myself my first moment of freedom since summer school began. It was exhilarating, walking out of the Exam Centre and along College without worrying about assignments or exams. But it also raised a new question: What’s next? What do I do in my paltry two weeks of freedom before Frosh Week? What activity could be so entertaining, so holistically enjoyable and relaxing, that it could make me feel like I had a proper summer vacation?

Stratford.

S – T – R – AT – FORD.

Or, more specifically, the Stratford Shakespeare Festival.

When I was a kid, my family went every year. It was our one big cultural outing, and we all piled into the minivan for the two-hour drive to the distant land where everything seemed to have something to do with theatre, where everyone seemed to know exactly why we were there. We usually saw musicals, but occasionally – and often only at my insistence – some of us would also check out a Shakespeare play. Always a comedy, of course. When I read an abridged version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream in grade 5, I begged my father to take me to see it at Stratford that summer. He agreed, and in the months before the outing it I was perpetually giddy with anticipation, as if every night were the night before Christmas.

I am not ashamed to say that I am exactly that giddy right now, over-zealously typing this and worrying for the safety of my poor, abused keyboard. I should be asleep, resting up for a big day, but I’m simply too excited for tomorrow. I started writing this hoping that it would be therapeutic, that if I could shout out to the blogosphere about how excited I am, I could get it all out of my system.

I haven’t.

The Lost Episode Festival Toronto

Arts, Canada is the Greatest Nation on Earth, Entertainment, Events, Film, LEFT

LEFT is this weekend!

TCAF is over and summer classes have officially begun. To you summer school students, this means that, among other things, however much the sun might shine, however balmy the breezes might be, however sweet cold drinks might taste as you enjoy them in the blistering heat, you can never fully escape thoughts of homework and midterms and reading. But don’t despair, dear reader: we at blogUT are committed to providing you with information on all the best, most obscure ways to beat the summer school blahs. This past month alone we’ve given you a tip on some awesome theatre, an unusual contest, and the comics event of the year. Today, we’re following up on that grand tradition with the Lost Episode Festival Toronto.

lost episode (lɑst ɛpIso̞d)
n.

    1. An amateur video featuring characters and setting from a pre-existing television programme, in a style mimetic to that of the programme, produced under the guise of an episode that was not officially distributed
    2. An amateur video featuring characters and setting parodying a pre-existing television programme, produced under the guise of an episode of programme which was not officially distributed.

The Lost Episode Festival Toronto (LEFT) is an artist-run, non-profit film festival which showcases independent productions of lost episodes. Artists’ projects are screened for the public in the weekend-long festival at the historic Bloor Cinema, where their creativity and quirkiness can be appreciated by all. For only $5, students get in to both days of the festival, June 1 and 2.

Although they already have some awesome-looking projects on the docket, including the Canadian premiere of Star Trek Continues and lost episodes of The Twilight Zone and Batman, LEFT is still looking for submissions. If you have some time, a camera, some friends, and an idea, you should totally give it a shot.

 

Let’s All Go to TCAF!

Arts, Canada is the Greatest Nation on Earth, Comics, Entertainment, Events

You’re twitching. You’re fidgety. You’re nervous. You know why? ‘Cause summer school starts next week. Sucks, don’t it? Only one measly weekend separates you from the tragic cruelty of summertime studies. “One weekend,” you say, “that’s not so bad! Maybe I can do something awesome in that weekend so that when classes start, I’ll feel like my vacation lasted more than two weeks!” That’s a pretty ambitious goal, friend. Fortunately, I think I may be able to help.

The Toronto Comic Arts Festival (TCAF) is an annual, publicly-funded, entirely free event dedicated to supporting independent comic book makers and retailers from Toronto and abroad. Spread over two days at the delightful Toronto Reference Library (delightful because you’re at a library and you’re not studying! Ha!), TCAF attracts exhibitors from all over the world who set up their booths to sell their works, chat with fans, sign autographs, and doodle the occasional doodle. Most exhibitors are known only within small circles, so don’t be surprised to find a hidden gem (such as my great discovery of 2011, pictured right). Conversely, some guests are as famous as graphic novelists can be: this year’s headliner is Art Spiegelman, Pulitzer Prize-winner of Maus, which also happens to be assigned reading to about five or six courses each year.

TCAF is large enough to take up almost the entire library, and it’s impossible to get through it all in one outing. Although entrance is free, you can’t really appreciate the event without bringing some money to drop on a beautiful new graphic novel or, if you’re feeling thrifty, one or two micro-comics (which were my great discovery of 2012, one of which is pictured left). There are also some free events, such as talks by the festival’s guests and book signings. Pins, buttons, and stickers are sometimes free but always awesome. In any case, it’s a big enough venture to be made into a day trip, and an excellent one to be had right before school begins all over again. (Caveat: Former/future students of ENG235 might not experience this as recreationally as others). 

The 50 Hour Film Festival (or, A Character, a Line of Dialogue, and a Prop Walk into a Bar)

Arts, Canada is the Greatest Nation on Earth, Contests, Entertainment, Events, LEFT, TV, UT Life, Video, Whimsical, World Events

We come to university to learn, or at least that’s what my dad says when he sees me blogging and shakes his head. It is true that classes impart a lot of useful (or not) information, but it is also true that much of what we learn comes not from lectures or exams, but from frantically preparing for lectures or exams. By half-way through their first year, the average student has mastered the all-nighter, the cram session, and the ability to meet a seemingly-impossible deadline on nothing but determination and Red Bull. We learn these skills to help us learn other things, of course, but it’s also so satisfying when we can apply them to other situations.

Take, for instance, Lost Episode Festival Toronto‘s upcoming 50 Hour Film Competition. A creative contest open to anyone and everyone with a camera and some friends, this local challenge encourages aspiring film-makers (or anyone else interested in winning terrific prizes) to re-create “lost” scenes from famous TV shows, or to make fake advertisements or trailers, all in only 50 hours. Remember those consecutive all-nighters for that econ final? Remember cursing the time and energy spent in learning something you thought could not have any practical application? Well, now you can put at least some of that experience to use.

The competition begins on the night of Friday, May 3, when each team is given a character, a line of dialogue, and a prop to incorporate into making a film. The teams then have only 50 hours to write, shoot, and submit their masterpieces. The entries will be evaluated by the festival’s judges and the winning teams will be awarded cash, prizes, and all the glamour and prestige that comes with winning a film festival. There’s also an audience choice award, for the film-makers who somehow manage to go commercial in under 50 hours. All entries will be screened in the big, beautiful, fully-licensed Bloor Hot Docs Cinema, only a few blocks from campus

To participate, simply sign-up on the festival website here. Participation costs less than a statistics textbook and is, I’ve been told, at least twice as enjoyable. Anyone of any level of skill and experience is welcome to enter, and a team can be of any size. It’s the perfect activity for those, like me, who have only a few weeks between the end of exams and the beginning of summer school to have a little fun. Or a lot of fun. Or 50 hours of fun.

A Night at The Rex

Arts, Canada is the Greatest Nation on Earth, Entertainment, Music, On Campus, Opinion, Review, Spots, UT Life, Whimsical, ,

Dear BlogUT reader,

Before you take a look at the title of this article, roll your eyes, and choose something less pretentious, please know that I am far from a jazz connoisseur. In fact, while something of a music enthusiast, I know next to nothing about jazz; all I’ve really had to go on for the past 21 years are stereotypical mental images of some fat guy blasting away on a trumpet while a sweaty tweaker bounces around uncontrollably in the audience. So, since I value your time as much as the next girl, and simply know too little about the genre, I won’t be boring you with jargon or technical details, or insightfully describing the “virtuosity of the alto sax”. This article is meant to be the thoughts, recollections, and recommendations of a jazz beginner, noob, philistine, or whatever other degrading term you’d prefer to call me. So, looking to get up close and personal with some real jazz, and not just the one Coltrane album in my collection, I decided to head down to The Rex Jazz & Blues Bar located in the bustling Queen St. West area and get initiated.

The first thing that became apparent as I approached The Rex’s exterior is that it isn’t a stuck-up or intimidating venue in the least. While jazz may conjure up images of stuffy, exclusive clubs, The Rex couldn’t be further from this cliché. The outside of the bar exhibits something of a sleek, retro look, while the interior is Cheers-esque, with wooden finishes and a pervading sense of warmth (Although maybe that was just the central heating. Yowza it’s cold out these days!). I was also heartened to discover that the place was absolutely packed. Although it was a little overwhelming to walk in and be greeted by what seemed to be a wall of people, me and my plus one were lucky enough to find a spot near the back, with seats just high enough to get a glimpse of the stage at the opposite end of the room. The crowd was a mix of all ages, and everyone seemed in good spirits with the drinks flowing and a nice selection of bar food at the standard expensive-but-not-Toronto-expensive prices. I ordered the New York style cheesecake with caramel sauce and was pleasantly surprised: the night was off to a good start.

Up next, a waitress came to our table, but we were told that we absolutely couldn’t be served until we paid our cover charge. Oddly enough, when we arrived there was no one at the door waiting to take our money and stamp us; we had to sit and wait a good 15 minutes before someone came to our table to help us. I also thought the cover was a little steep at $10 a person. It’s nice to support local acts, and so I wasn’t annoyed per se, but considering the place was beyond packed, $5 or even $7 seemed more reasonable to me. Still, for the show that followed, and for the wonderful ambiance of the place as a whole, it was worth giving up a tenner.

The best surprise of the night was when we discovered that the nightly act was the Radiohead Jazz Project, bringing together the Toronto Jazz Orchestra and local tribute band Idioteque. To be introduced to any live jazz that night would’ve been a pleasure, but knowing the songs really helped me get into the spirit of the evening. For the most part, the group sounded very tight and comfortable playing with one another. They burst out of the gates with a freewheeling, beautifully-played version of Bodysnatchers. Without any vocals getting in the way, the trumpets really shone, and the song presented itself in a completely fresh, invigorating way. Paranoid Android in particular was an audience favourite, and had people roaring with delight at every new twist and turn. Yet, as much as I hate to say it, the vocals really let the group down. To begin with, they were far too high in the mix at the start of the night, overpowering the backing band at various points. Yet, even when the vocals were noticeably turned down, the quality of the singing wasn’t up to par, especially when it came to the soaringly high notes Thom Yorke is famous for. In all fairness, few people could ever hope to cover Yorke’s vocals in a convincing or even competent way. Still, it seems to me that the show would be much stronger as a whole if the vocals were simply omitted altogether. It speaks to the strength of the backing band, however, that the lackluster singing didn’t detract much from the overall experience: the show was a rousing success with the crowd, and left me wanting to get out there and explore much more live jazz in the near future.

In summary, while certain elements of the show could’ve done with some reworking, the night as a whole was a wonderful experience, leaving me hopeful that this is but the start of my adventure into the world of jazz. Perhaps I’ll head back on the 25th, when our very own U of T Student Jazz Ensemble hits the stage. Join me?

 

Junior Editor’s Note: Due to an unfortunate error, this article could not be posted until ten days after it was first written – the “25th” referred to is of February.

The New Music Festival at U of T

Arts, Canada is the Greatest Nation on Earth, Desperation, Entertainment, Events, General, Music, On Campus, Survival Tips, Uncategorized, Whimsical

U of T is full of unique opportunities. They’re the bread and butter of this blog and my life; there are few things I like more than learning about a hidden spot or quirky club or meaningful volunteer position on campus. I scour the blogs and papers as often as I can, holding up event listings to my mental calendar and wondering if I can fit in a play, philosophy discussion, and homework in one afternoon. (I can.)

That’s why I was surprised and a little embarrassed to realize that U of T has had an entire faculty of performers right underneath my nose (and Museum Station) this whole time. The Faculty of Music is full to the brim of brilliant composers and performers, and features them in free shows at least once a week. Couple in the fact that a sudden epiphany (read: episode of Frasier) made me realize how much culture is missing from my life, and suddenly I’m cruising the Faculty of Music website for upcoming events.

In the past two days alone, I’ve seen the finals of a concerto competition (that bassoonist nailed it), listened to new pop pieces by students with classical backgrounds, and [I’m not sure what the verb is] an experimental theatrical music… thing in honour of the 10th anniversary of the passing of its composer. The last two events were part of the Faculty’s New Music Festival, which runs until the 27th and features nine more free shows. I’ll go to as many as I can.

Toronto Fringe & Why I Care

Arts, Canada is the Greatest Nation on Earth, Entertainment, Events, General, Opinion, Review, theatre

Three years ago, I saw a show at Toronto Fringe about an Irish rebel who felt the need to strip off his clothing mid-monologue. Two years ago, I saw a Fringe show about a dystopian future in which political differences were settled by playing guitar loudly. Last year, I saw seven Fringe shows, about subjects as varied as the actress Judy Holliday and video game-themed sexual assault (those were two different shows).

One might think that – despite my continued revisitation – based on the above shows’ descriptions, if not for their veracity than for my willingness to write about them, that I am not a fan of the large annual independent theatre festival that rolls through Toronto each July appropriately called “Fringe”. One might then be demonstrably wrong on this account, as this year marks not only my fourth attending Fringe plays but also my first volunteering with the festival. I’ve gotten the e-mails and everything.

My love for the Fringe Festival is difficult to express without copious amounts of sarcasm, though it is by no means ironic or insincere. With the exception of one excellent series of productions of Waiting for Godot last year, I have yet to see a truly strong Fringe play. By this very subjective judgement I mean I have yet to see the production of a play at Fringe that was not theatrically wanting, usually in multiple areas of dramatic technique. Even within the admittedly limited confines of budgets and day jobs, Fringe shows often fail to impress by their own artistic merit. So why do I love them?

It is almost a cliché that one of the many purposes of art in a society is its ability to hold up a mirror and allow people to reflect upon themselves. To extend this metaphor, these mirrors are crafted by the artists; in cooperative forms such as theatre each artist forms a single shard that, when held together with other shards, offers up crystal clear reflections of and to the audience. It is the artistry that makes the shard clear and accurate, and it is the artistic greatness of professional companies like Soulpepper and Factory Theatre that make their mirrors shine.

At Fringe, you’re hard-pressed to find something that reflects any light at all.* The shows are written, produced, and performed mostly by amateurs, who haven’t for whatever reason the skill or ability to make a decent mirror. Theirs are usually blocks of dull yellowed glass held together by sheer force of will and the minor incentive of ticket sales. What makes them so remarkable, though, is that the attempts at mirrors are themselves cultural barometers of Toronto, or at least some of its communities. The fact that our city can support, through a recession and beyond, an unjuried, volunteer-centred, uncensored, amateur theatre festival is itself remarkable. Through all of the political hoopla at City Hall, a rotten economy, and a population that overall prefers webisodes to live theatre, the Fringe Festival has thrived and continues to grow. By nature of its very existence it tells us about ourselves. Furthermore, as a participatory art form, live theatre goes beyond “the medium is the message” into something like “the medium and the audience are each other’s messages and listeners”.

As a fan of art, which is really just an extension of its societal function, the appeal of Fringe is obvious. I intend to see more shows this year even than last, and I doubt any will be very good. But as I take my seat in the theatre/church/parking garage/moving van, I know it’ll be at the very least worthwhile.
*Some shows that publicly debuted at Toronto Fringe have gone on to bigger things, such as The Drowsy Chaperone, My Mother’s Lesbian Jewish-Wiccan Wedding, and Kim’s Convenience. I offer this: it’s only statistically probable that within 150 annual plays one or two might be worth producing again.