March 6, 2010

Music and food

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The KW Symphony’s latest Intersections concert, Bon appétit, was on the theme of music and food. It was one of the most enjoyable concerts I’ve ever been to.

Held at the small Conrad Centre for the Performing Arts instead of Centre in the Square, acoustics were sacrified but intimacy was gained. It proved a good trade-off.

Principle conductor Edwin Outwater introduced the evening by outlining a fact he’d only recently learned, which is that symphonies first came together as a way of accompanying large feasts in the 15th century. Then he read some of the items served at these feasts (didn’t sound too bad), along with the instruments combined to accompany each course.

Then the Symphony played their first number, Raymond Scott’s “Dinner Music for a Pack of Hungry Cannibals.” (Not the KW Symphony, but here’s a YouTube link.) A lot of Raymond Scott’s music is used in cartoons; this was one lively and fun work.

Up next, Natalie Benninger of Nick and Nate’s Uptown 21 restaurant was introduced, as Edwin explained there would actually be food as part of this concert. (We were also allowed to bring wine to our seats.) She introduced the next piece, the lyrical “Pastorale” from the film Babette’s Feast, the soundtrack to the big meal in the film. It was lovely, but I have to admit to being distracted by the appetizer being distributed while it was being played. And to the fact that Jean and I didn’t get any.  It was apparently a salad of endive and blue cheese from the film, and quite delicious. (I suppose I should add that it wasn’t only Jean and I who didn’t get any. For whatever reason, there seemed to be enough for only about half the audience.)

At some point—maybe here—we also did a video link up to Nick, toiling away back at the restaurant. In his first appearance, he talked about the type of restaurant it was, and the focus on local foods and changing menus. And then the next piece played was Shostakovich’s “Tea for Two”, a variation on that tune that he wrote on a dare. It was a lot of fun. (Look, you can hear that one on YouTube also.)

Nick appeared again, commenting that he was more of a Rolling Stones guy than a classical music fan, but he did appreciate this particular concert. Then he asked Edwin about food, to which Edwin expressed appreciation for Italian and Japanese cuisine, and his sense that chicken was a highly overrated food item.

The final piece of the first half was by a living Canadian composer, John Estacio. It was one movement from the Farmer’s Symphony, called “The Harvest.” It was quite grand, and was served with an appetizer of cornmeal in a honey sauce. (For everyone, this time.)

Before we broke for intermission, John from Art Bar spoke about the wine he’d been drinking during the performance, which was a red blend from Southbrook Winery, and how different characteristics of the wine came to the forefront with the different styles of music. Edwin then asked concertmaster Stephen Sitarski what music would best accompany Pinot Noir. He thought a relaxing smooth jazz, whereas a Bordeaux would require something more intellectual.

At intermission, I bought a glass of the Southbrook red. (I’m highly suggestible.) It was quite nice.

Part 2 led off with Ralph Vaughn Williams’ “March Past of the Kitchen Utensils”, which somewhat sounded as titled. The next number, which featured mezzo soprano Megan Latham, was an orchestral version of the Cole Porter tune “The Tale of the Oyster,” arranged by Edwin Outwater himself. This was a hilarious little number about an oyster who longs for the high life—and finds it on a silver platter. (YouTube) And Latham has a beautiful voice and a very expressive manner.

Nick then introduced a video of a competition between himself and Latham, as to who could make the best version of Julia Child’s Gateau au Chocolat. Quite amusing (and no winner declared). We then moved into Lee Holby’s Bon Appetit, which is an episode of Julia Child’s program, in which she makes that Gateau, set to music. You can definitely picture Child as the piece proceeds. And most happily, we didn’t have to imagine how the gateau tasted, because we all got a piece. It was one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth.

And, they gave us the recipe in the concert program. I think I might try it. Heck, it’s only 6 oz butter. Practically diet food, for Julia Child.

Anyway. The last piece was a real change of pace, an adaptation of 60’s band Strawberry Alarm Clock’s “Incense and Peppermints.” Though orchestral, it was very much in tune with the psychedelic original, complete with phase-shifting vocal (in technical terms, Latham used this gizmo to make her voice echo and layer). One the last verse, Edwin joined in the singing as well. And then he thanked us for “coming out for something we’ve never done before, and that I’ve never even heard of before.”

Though the joke was that the near-capacity crowd would then all head to the 54-seat Nick and Nate’s for a nightcap, we just headed home at that point. But we were smiling all the way.

 

March 5, 2010

You say it’s your birthday

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I’d like to begin by wishing the man who almost shares my birth date (his is one day and many years prior) a belated happy 66th. Thanks for taking care of yourself, dude, so that you’re not only still with us, but still look pretty damn good. Glad the tour with Eric Clapton is going so well.

I could say more, but I don’t want Jean to disown me.

As for my own birthday, it was pretty low-key. We were just back from Timmins and Jean spent the day and night before in London (ON) on business, so not much time for grand celebrations. I did get myself a pie, and we did go dancing that night—our regular ballroom dance class. But I finally mastered—or at least, stopped freaking out over—the previously dreaded “fan and hockey stick” step. (Actually, not that hard.) We even got through a new step, the big top, and at least made an attempt at the more complex sliding door step. Whew.

We are planning a joint birthday dinner next weekend at Peller Estates. They’ve discounted their five-course dinner from $80 to $50 for  most of March, so that’s not a bad deal. We just have to find a place to stay now.

As for presents, I’m pondering a new iPod. Just because I’m getting a bit low on space, and I don’t like to do the swapping out thing—want all the music in one place. And I know there are devices—cheaper ones—other than iPods, but I have invested rather a lot of time in iTunes-specific playlist-building in the past five years. Don’t relish trying to re-create that elsewhere.

All that said, there’s no big rush, though, as I still have slightly over 2 GB of space left—Jean would point out that’s half the total space available on his nano. And I think I’m going to explore the refurbished /eBay market. Classics are up to 120 GB now; I really don’t need that much space. Plus, there’s a freakin’ waiting list for them at the moment, which is just irritating. I’d rather get 80 GB now (or whenever I decide to go ahead) than sit around waiting for 120.

 

March 2, 2010

Catching up

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OK, so instead of owning the podium, we just rented the top floor.

(I have to give a CP reporter the credit for that quote.) Wasn’t that fun? The Olympic withdrawal is going to be tough. It’s been the framing device around all events for the past two weeks. Furthermore, that’s been true of almost everyone else. What else does that anymore? Not the Oscars, not the series finale of Lost, not the Superbowl, not even the Stanley Cup.

Big eating weekend

I described last weekend (Feb. 19–21) as my “big eating weekend.” For the Friday, well ahead, we had arranged to meet up with friends at Verses. They were particularly pleased to have meat there. “We’re coming off a month of veganism,” they explained. “If you think vegetarianism is hard? Try veganism.”

Then on the following Saturday, our neighborhood association held a wine tasting dinner at Solé. Solé generally does an excellent job with these, and the featured wine was from Rosewood Estates, which we really like. So we had to sign up for that as well. We ended up sitting with the owner of the winery, who proved to be a very interesting guy, with rather strong opinions about wines of different price points, and the marketing strategies of various regions.

And it was a great meal. It started with their Sémillon, which I judged reminiscent of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, so was pleased when informed that’s what they were going for. It was delicious, as was the smoked trout served with it—amazing stuff, the food highlight of the meal. The main course was chicken with wild mushrooms, and it was served with a Meritage wine. (I was hoping to get their Pinot Noir again, but the 2007 is apparently all sold out.) Dessert featured honey wine, served with an apple caramel tart.

Olympic-wise, that was a pretty quiet weekend. That’s when there was all that grousing about Canada’s performance being somewhat disappointing, which I mostly found irritating. But since we don’t really know our neighbours (and besides the wine people, that’s who was there), it was very handy to have that to talk about.

Shall we dance?

Despite some moments of mild panic—me on the “hockey stick” step (seriously, that’s what it’s called) of the cha-cha, Jean on the intricate shaping of the slow fox—we’re fumbling our way reasonably well through our ballroom dance classes for people who had taken a seven-year break. This week’s class coincided with the Russia-Canada hockey quarter-final, but late arrivals reported on the already lopsided score involved there, and we stopped worrying about that too much.

But our dance instructor wanted to talk about another sport:

“Why did they win?” he asked. After some brilliant responses like, “cause they were good,” the issue of synchronicity came up. “That’s right!” he said. “They danced as though they were one.” Which is what we were all striving for. “And if you practice for 8 hours a day, for 12 years, maybe learn to skate… Who knows?”

That night I planned to finish watching the ladies’ short in figure skating, recorded the night before, but I got distracted by all those other medals by all those other Canadian ladies: gold and silver in bobsled. Silver in short track.

TEDx

The day after dance class, I attended a Waterloo-hosted a TEDx conference. TED stands for Technology, Entertainment, and Design, and the motto is “Ideas worth spreading.” In 21 minutes or less.

The event started by being delayed by technical difficulties. This is when I discovered that I was, apparently, the only person in the room whose iPod was not Touch and whose cell phone was not i.  That is, no portable Internet connectivity for me. So while everyone else tapped away around me, twittering about the delay and receiving updated ladies’ curling scores… I read a magazine. I mean, a dead-tree edition magazine.

There’s some message there somewhere, and I don’t really like it. But at least I didn’t have to worry about any batteries dying.

But once the conference got underway, it did feature some interesting speakers and ideas. Terry O’Reilly from CBC’s The Age of Persuasion on the underrated importance of friction in selling products. An exploration of living architecture (using materials that respond to human touch—a bit freaky). The director of of the documentary Prom Night in Mississippi, who also shared information about how meeting The Beatles played a role in his spiritual awakening. Caroline Disler on how much of “Western” civilization actually comes from the east. And a study of the ecology of restoration, using Sudbury as a model.

And back home, the very good women’s gold medal hockey game! And the equally tough, in their own way, women of figure skating singles. Yu-na Kim perfection, a woman who does triple axels better than many of the men, and Joannie Rochette, showing it’s about more than medals (though it is great she won one).

Timmins wedding

It’s my wedding year, I guess, as we traveled again for a wedding on the weekend, this time to Timmins. But we weren’t on call to do much the Friday night, so after spending some excrutiating time watching the women’s curling final, first with my family, then with Jean’s, we went out to bar with my brother and his wife to get away from sport a bit and listen to some music.

The young singer, Louis-Phillip Sébastien, was quite good. But he was also fighting a cold, so his set was short. Really short. So then the bar turned the TV on the men’s hockey game, which seemed to go pretty well. It was only after getting home we found out that they nearly lost it in the last few minutes.

The wedding on Saturday was lovely, and I think most people had a great time, with lots of dancing. I’m not sure what the attendance would have been had a major hockey game been scheduled that night, but people were content to merely zip into the bar on breaks and report that the men’s curling team were winning gold.

The invitation to the wedding has specified “black and white dress.” On first reading that, I assume that was some other way of saying “dress up nice,” and planned on wearing a fancy black and red dress. But, it turned out that they actually wanted people to dress in black and white. We found this out only late in the game, though, and at that point, I wasn’t too thrilled by the idea of going out to buy a new dress. I just threw in a white throw to cut the effect.

So in case you’re wondering… it is a bit odd being the only person wearing red in the room.

At least I was, until the red sock dance—a weird, franco-ontarian wedding tradition whereby any unmarried older sibling has to, well, dance in red socks. I have no idea why.

The opening of the wedding presents was on Sunday, about an hour before the Gold medal game. We overheard the first period there (knowing by the cheering that it was 1-0), watched the second with Jean’s Mom, and the third and overtime with my family. Scoring with 24 seconds left? Are you kidding me? And then Crosby again scored when it really counted.

While I really think hockey got too much emphasis overall, I must admit that was quite the capper.

 

February 23, 2010

Of nudes and natives, quads and queers: Olympic figure skating

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Yesterday I enjoyed watching skicross almost as much as snowboardcross, but damn it was tough seeing the Canadian skier (skicrosser?) finish fourth. So many fourths and fifths. And after that way too close match against Switzerland, I had a bad feeling about the men’s hockey game. So I took a break from all that and watched the ice dance.

The theme for this year’s original dancing was folk dancing. This resulted in some mind-blowingly hokey costumes and dancing; think Janine and Phillip’s Russian Folk Dance on So You Think You Can Dance, multiplied by many. But you know? I wasn’t bored.

And then there was the Russians:

Yes. They were pretending to be Aboriginals. Since the above competition, they’ve dropped the dark face in response to criticism. But still, it was awful. Not just because it was tacky and disrespectful. It just wasn’t a good dance. It was not complex, it did not engage you. I was fairly appalled when they were in first place afterward.

(And less upset at the simple fact that they “looked nude!”, but somewhat amused at how upset commenter Rod Black seemed to be about that.)

Fortunately, a couple lovely teams were still to come, dancing perfectly to fantastic choreorgraphy in sophisticated-looking costumes, and knocking the Russians off their pedestal. First were American Davis and White, with a wonderful Bollywood number. Next were Canadians Virtue and Moir, with a dynamic Spanish flamenco. I was so nervous watching them. But they were so good. I had to watch it again today (and somehow still felt nervous, though I already knew there were no screw-ups and they’d ended up first).

In the earlier men’s competition, the big thing was the quad. And whether it was correct that someone who didn’t do the quad won the thing. Same squawking we heard two years ago when Jeffrey Buttle won the world championship, sans quad.

Notice that the only dudes ever complaining about quad-less wins are those who pretty much suck at everything but that? Plushenko, Joubert… Stojko? (Hey, I loved you, Elvis, but you’re being kind of obnoxious these days.)

I watched the top 10 or so guys, and Plushenko did by far the most boring and unattractive skate of them all. Salon described it fairly accurately, I thought:

He lands all of his jumps but looks terrible doing it, then breaks into a funky boogie nightmare that’s just plain ugly, like watching your gawky teenage cousin trying to break-dance.

Maybe the real controversy is not that Lysacek won gold with a skate that was both technically skillful and beautiful to watch, but that Plushenko won silver with the above. Quad-triple notwithstanding.

And finally? I just love Johnny Weir. You go on being fabulous, dude.

 

February 17, 2010

Snowboard cross: The best sport there is!

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While hunting down pairs figure skating this weekend, I learned that I have a channel called Rogers Sportsnet. Channel 74. Who knew? (Have I had this channel a long time? Do I pay extra for it? Mysteries, mysteries.)

It was thanks to figure skating that the upstairs television was therefore left on Rogers Sportsnet when I turned it back on Sunday, whereupon I discovered full, uninterrupted coverage of the men’s snowboard cross yesterday. I had put on the TV as a background to doing something else, but I kept stopping and staring, just riveted by this sport. I don’t remember ever seeing it before. So graceful. So exciting. So unpredictable. And straightforward—the fastest wins, no judges required.

I also just love the snowboarders’ attitudes. It’s cool, man. Let’s party.

So it was very exciting to come home today to the woman’s event. So I caught Maelle Ricker’s gold medal win, live! She ran a really nice race (apparently after barely qualifying).

So congratulations, Ms Ricker, and also Mike Robertson, who won silver in the men’s, passed just in the final moments. And thanks Rogers Sportsnet, for introducing me to snowboard cross. Possibly the best sport there is (at least to watch on TV).

 

February 14, 2010

Soundtrack to Valentine’s Day

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Billboard Magazine has compiled a list of the 50 sexiest songs of all time. It’s Billboard, so the criteria is sales—the more of those, the higher the position in their chart. And which songs qualify to be counted? Apparently, those who subject matter is sex (even with oneself, as “She Bop” makes the list). So the results are kind of bizarre, unless your idea of great romantic evening is listening to Olivia Newton’s John “Physical” (number 1!), Anita Ward’s “Ring My Bell” (number 17), or Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar on Me” (number 37). Topped off with “She Bop”, I guess (number 49).

We aren’t doing too much for Valentine’s Day this year—just dinner at home, probably with some nicer wine, and a dessert featuring chocolate. But if we can tear ourselves away from the Olympics for a bit, we may put on some “mood” music. Which would not include any of the above songs (or other entries like Smack That, or Sledgehammer, or Afternoon Delight), but might—iPod shuffle willing—include the following (links to YouTube videos of song, where available):

1. I Need You Tonight – INXS

Featuring an intensely erotic vocal performance by Michael Hutchens, possibly the sexiest rock star ever, only highlighted by his charismatic video performance.

“So slide over here / And give me a moment”

2. A Case of You – Diana Krall

Her Bourbon-soaked voice ideally suits this classic, poetic Joni Mitchell song. Blew me away completely first time I heard her do this (on her husband’s show).

“And I could drink a case of you / And still be on my feet”

3. Save the Last Dance for Me – Ben E. King

An oldie but a goodie, with another sensuous vocal performance. (Background story is apparently that Ben E King was wheelchair-bound and could not dance with his wife himself.) Doesn’t hurt that it was used as the prom dance soundtrack for Justin and Brian on Queer as Folk.

“But don’t forget who’s talking you home / And in whose arms you’re going be”

4. Without Your Love – Roger Daltrey

I do find Roger Daltrey’s husky-to-sweet-and-back-again voice kind of sexy (big surprise, I know), but The Who sure isn’t one for uncomplicated songs of love. Or lust. So it’s kind of refreshing to hear that voice wrapped around one (as I’d probably find it too mooshy if sung by anyone else).

“I could forget my home / Be like a rolling stone / But what would it mean, without your love?”

5. Temple – Jane Siberry

Known mostly for quirky tunes like “Mimi on the Beach” and “Everything Reminds Me of My Dog”, Siberry is probably one of the last artists you’d think of coming up with something so sensual. But from the opening, whispered “gimmes”… wow.

“You call that rough? Well it’s not… rough enough”

6. I’m in Love with My Car – Queen

I know, I know. This one is weird. It’s a completely un-sarcastic song about a guy so taken with his car, he doesn’t want or need a girl. (Or a boy.) But with its driving 6/8 beat and the sheer passion behind Roger Taylor’s singing, it’s just somehow, very hot. (Much hotter than Queen’s actual songs about sex, like “Get Down, Make Love” or “Body Language” or — God forbid — “Fat Bottomed Girls”.) I don’t think cars are sexy, but this song makes me understand that other people do. They really do.

“When I’m holding your wheel / All I feel is your gear / When my hand’s on your greasegun / Oh, it’s like a disease, son”

————–

That’s enough for now. I’ll be in my bunk.

 

February 13, 2010

Join the majority

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Like two-thirds of Canadians (!), apparently, I tuned into the Opening Ceremonies of the Olympics last night. And I even watched it live, and nearly to the bitter end.

They really did a fine job, I thought. I liked the special effects re-creation of the ocean, and the fields, and the mountains (even if it perpetuates the myth that we’re “outdoorsy” country people, when most of us live in cities). And I liked the slam poet, reminiscent of the old “Joe Canadian” ads, but with more eloquence and no beer. (Even though it claimed an environmentalism we don’t deserve. But the rest felt right.) The fiddling medley was lively fun. And man, does this country have a great set of women singers, or what? Nikki Yanovsky, Sarah McLachlan, Joni Mitchell, Measha Brueggergosman, and most especially, KD Lang, actually outdoing her Juno performance of “Hallelujah”.

I liked that the final torch run wasn’t just Gretzky. I liked all the French. And it was appropriate that the tragic death of luger Nodar Kumaritashvili was recognized, and recognized again.

I have some sympathy with Olympic protestors. The IOC is really the most appalling organization. But the athletes… they’re mostly inspiring. They always win me in over in the end.

Finally, live TV meant not fast-forwarding the commercials, and the somewhat dubious sponsors involved. It made this 22 Minutes bit even more hilarious the second time around:

 

February 9, 2010

Of hams and Whos

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So this was a Sunday of firsts. Not not only my inaugural viewing of a Superbowl half-time show, but also my first attempt at cooking one of those big, big hams with the bone on it.

I’ve always been a mystified by ham-like meats and their various grocery store names—why is one a “sweet pickle roll” while another is a “steak” and that one there is “smoked hock”? But anyway, whatever the actual name, the big ones with the bone, that are not precooked, were on at a very good price at Sobey’s this week, so I decided to take a stab at cooking that. How hard could it be?

I had assumed it would be like other big hunks of meats, in that you flavored the outside somehow, then stuck it in the oven at a certain temperature for 2+ hours, until the middle part reached the acceptable temperature. To my surprise, though, the package for this thing said it was to be cooked on the stove top in water (for 2+ hours).

Well, thank goodness I still have that huge pasta pot I received as a wedding present and have rarely used since, because it just fit in there. The wrapper then instructed me to remove the wrapper before I cooked it in the water. Boy, what kind of an idiot does this wrapper think I am anyway, I thought, as I removed the plastic and discovered that the meat was in this other mesh-like wrapper. Was I supposed to remove that one?

“Jean! Help!”

Jean called for reinforcements. Since his Mom left the mesh on, so would I.

The instructions then said to cover the meat in cold water, then cook it over low heat for 2 to 2.5 hours, til it reached 71C. Seemed easy enough, so I did as told.

An hour later when I checked, the water was warmish but not bubbly or anything. That seemed a bit odd, but what did I know? Another half hour later, there was some simmer going, and I started working on the scalloped potatoes (which I actually know how to make).

As those when in the oven, I got the bright idea of actually sticking a meat thermometer in the meat to see how it was doing. It was nowhere near 71C. It was at, like 27, or something. And here I was, kind of hoping to eat this thing today.

I now did what I have to assume I was supposed to have done in the first place, which is bring the water to a full boil, then reduce heat to a nice simmer. That did the temperature moving up a bit quicker. But not really quickly enough.

As microwaving didn’t seem to be much of an option, I was at a bit of a loss as to how to accelerate the cooking time.

“Jean! Help!”

Jean’s suggestion, which I had sorted gleaned onto also, was to cut the big hunk of meat into smaller hunks, figuring each would cook faster that way.

And faster it did go, finally finishing about 3.5 hours after starting, and about 0.5 hours after the scalloped potatoes and braised cabbage with cranberries were done. But that wasn’t so bad. And everything was really very tasty. (Thank goodness, because I think we’re going to be eating the leftovers for the next week or two.)

So in the background of this kitchen drama, as of 6:45 or so, was The Superbowl. Muted. (Yes, I have a TV in my kitchen. Doesn’t everyone?) So I was able to look up to it every once in a while, between fretting about meat temperature, to see the first two quarters count down.

Though I needn’t really have worried, because as the second quarter wound down, I got not one but two calls informing me of the impending halftime show. It’s so nice to have people in your life who care! And who actually want to watch The Superbowl. And by then, we were actually done eating dinner (though not putting away all the leftovers).

I went downstairs where the PVR lives and put it on Superbowl channel. Only the sound was all broken up. That wasn’t going to work. So I tried other Superbowl channels – CBS, maritime, BC. Then other, non-Superbowl channels.

Basically, the sound was a fubarred anywhere. With about 2 minutes left in the second quarter, the PVR needed a reboot.

So while it reset itself, I watched the countdown on the kitchen TV. With about 10 seconds left, the PVR was back, sound restored to normality.

I then sat with the remote, planning to hit the record when The Who actually began their set. Only, it had been so long since I actually recorded anything playing live (I normally preset everything I plan to watch), I didn’t really know how to do that. Which I only realized as their set began.

“Jean! Help!”

Jean managed the highly complex [not] process of recording what was currently on (and we later remembered that it actually tapes everything from when I first tuned to that channel, so I actually have the whole thing).

And then we watched The Who—me a little more closely than Jean.

Jean [during Baba O'Reilly]: Is that all they’re doing of that one? Me (feeling weirdly proud that he now knows when Baba O’Reilly is shortened): Yeah, it’s medley.

The set list was utterly unsurprising. They only have 12 minutes. Of course they’re going to play all the CSI themes, somehow. It certainly would have been nice to hear more of their catalog, and it might have been interesting (or an interesting disaster) if they’d actually tried to “mash up” some of their songs (and come to think of it, they used do that very thing, live … quite brilliantly). But again… 12 minutes.

Jean [during Who Are You]: You must disappointed he’s wearing a shirt. Me: Yeah, and no wardrobe malfunctions this year.

The outfits: Though still in remarkably great shape for nearly 66, I don’t actually think Daltrey should still go out in full bare chest-al glory anymore. So the jacket was fine, but that scarf? I don’t really get his fondness for scarves, unless he feels having a warm neck actually helps with singing, or something. (And some bloggers are complaining about seeing Townsend’s “white tummy” far too often—which I can’t say I particular even noticed!)

Jean: [during Won't Get Fooled Again]: Wow, I’m impressed how fast they set that stage up. Me: Did you know The Who pioneered the use of lasers in rock concerts?

The staging was pretty awesome. The light show, the fireworks—it looked great on TV, it must have looked fantastic in the stadium.

As to the overall performance? Though a bit sloppy at times, I thought they were pretty good, generally. Mind, I wasn’t expecting them to sound like they did in 1971. It was fun to hear the big stadium singing along with them. Knowing that Daltrey’s voice is a thing of wonkiness these days, I was actually tense waiting for him to attempt the “Won’t Get Fooled Again” scream. But to my relief, that was great! (Though it may well be the years of doing that scream that has reduced his voice to what it is now…)

I did a bit of review reading afterward. What I found most weird were the accusations, at Rollingstone.com, that they lip-synced the entire performance. (This is not in the review, but in the dreaded comments section.) I’m with those who said, you know, if the whole thing was pre-recorded, don’t you think it would have been a little… better?

And my favourite review is the fairly poignant one in the New York Times, some of which I’ll quote below:

Instead, for what was probably its biggest one-time viewing audience, the Who chose repertory from Townshend’s increasingly ambitious late-1960s albums and afterward, when he was already taking a grown-up’s point of view: “Pinball Wizard” and the gentle “See me, feel me” snippet from his 1969 rock opera “Tommy”; “Baba O’Riley” and “Won’t Get Fooled Again” from the 1971 “Who’s Next”; and the title song from the 1978 “Who Are You.” If there was a 21st-century attention-span paradox in having the man who wrote rock operas and concept albums compress his life’s work into 12 minutes — well, Townshend said beforehand that the medley was Daltrey’s idea.

They were songs about prowess, determination, desperation and rage at how revolutions fail: an arc of verbal frustration defied, and explosively overcome, by musical assertiveness, with the power chords that the Who made ring worldwide. They were songs that expected, and got, large audiences at the time. It was music born to be heard in arenas and stadiums, and the halftime show might have been these songs’ last airing on their accustomed monumental scale.

…

The Who did its best to punk up its songs again, even amid the Super Bowl’s fiesta of corporate branding, and “Won’t Get Fooled Again” — the song that got the fullest airing — still had a good part of its old ferocity. But it was a line in “Baba O’Riley” that touched on what kind of milestone this brief, happily unkempt, late-career performance was for the Who. “Let’s get together before we get much older,” Daltrey sang, looking directly across the stage at Townshend.

PS – I also quite liked this blog post, which (despite not containing nearly enough information about ham) nicely made the point that while The Who’s Superbowl performance was mostly fine, they’re just doomed now by having once been the best live band. Period. I especially liked this line: “The Who are probably the most underrated band that many people consider wildly overrated.”

 

February 6, 2010

The Music of Fleetwood Mac

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This was the theme of our latest Jeans’n'Classics concert: The Music of Fleetwood Mac. Our original guests had to bow out, so we attended with Camie and Frasier instead. As with the previous concert, and despite some lobbying for the new Mexican place (Margaritas), we went to Uptown21 first.

Once again, they did a great job. We all went for the day’s three-course prix fixe menu, three of us with matching wine (Camie had Shiraz). The first course of duck confit and wild mushroom was fabulous. The other option, grilled shrimp, also looked very nice. Next up was either a root-vegetable soup, which got some raves, or a salad with apple, sugared pecans, and cheddar in a balsamic vinaigrette. Quite nice. And the main course choices included lamb with vegetables (Jean), trout with vegetables, a vegetarian option, and something I can’t remember. But my trout was nice—very well-prepared.

We also enjoyed the company. We discussed Austen (the author, not me misspelling the city), university funding, travel plans, the joys of home renovation, the Olympics, and the last time we’d listened to Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors. Though not necessarily in that order. They managed to get us out just before 7:00, and we commented that it would be nice to go again sometime and not have to rush through dinner. And maybe also try the Mexican place.

There was the usual insane number of people looking for parking when we arrived, but this time we did manage to get a spot at the Kitchener Library, which is pretty nearby. And as a bonus, their parking meter machine was broken! It was a near full house again.

The concert featured Rique Franks, Katherine Rose, and Neil Donnel on vocals. They explained that it was a new show, and it was a little rougher than usual, with some lyrics and vocal lines and song dates mixed up. But overall it was very enjoyable. Kind of a reminder of the many hits they’d had in the 80s there, all of which I knew at least by chorus, and a good selection from Rumors, which I pretty much know inside and out. I especially like that some non-single but excellent songs from that classic album, such as “The Chain” and “Oh Daddy” were included.  But the music in general was well-suited to the orchestral approach. Jean developed an insta-crush on Katherine Rose based on her husky speaking voice. And Camie noted that it was nice to have the speaking and singing duties distributed among three people.

Next up: Elvis!

 

February 2, 2010

Weekend update

Posted by cultureguru under Arts, Music, Personal, Politics
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We’ve had varying success in recent weekend activities.

Failures

  • Ben Heppner, to show, for the Grand Philharmonic’s performance of Edgar’s The Dream of Gerontius. If you’ve never heard of this work, don’t worry; neither had we. I don’t know if having the big star there would have made a difference, but we had to conclude that we aren’t necessarily fans of all great choral works. Cause we seemed to enjoy this way less than the rest of the audience, though the quality of performance was clear.
  • Avatar, because it sold out before we got there. Seven weeks later and it’s still that popular, eh? Guess for next time, we’ll order our tickets online in advance.

Successes

  • Up in the Air, well-attended but not difficult to get into, and quite a good movie, to boot. No 3-D extravaganza, but a clever script and compelling characters.
  • The Waterloo anti-prorogation rally! Yes, we went. Pleased to see a good turnout. Hadn’t been to a political protest in decades. Wasn’t sure what would happen. Mostly, we politely listened to speeches of varying quality. Found the whole thing kind of heartening.
  • Participated in an unofficial canoe club gathering around the Banff Mountain Film Festival. Only we skipped the Film Festival part (one grows weary of watching short films about people doing risky stuff outdoors) and just joined on the preliminaries of a hike and dinner. Made for a good day in this surprisingly mild January we’ve just had.

Upcoming

Sigh. Though I’m kind of grumpy about it, I feel somehow compelled to watch next Sunday’s Superbowl halftime show, to see how The Who does. I’ve actually never watched any part of the Superbowl before. Obviously I saw the Janet Jackson thing afterward on YouTube, and I’m a bit sorry now that I didn’t take the time to watch Prince’s half-time performance, but there you are. This will be a first.

So now I have to figure out things like, when is half-time, anyway? (My husband is absolutely no help in these matters.) OK, I do realize it’s a live sporting event, so the exact time halftime begins will vary, but around when will it be? Online TV guide has some pre-Superbowl thing happening from 2-6, with the game from 6-10. (And here I thought the game was actually played in the afternoon, not at night.) So am I naive to think halftime will be somewhere around 8:00, then? And they aren’t going to interview Townsend and Daltrey during the pre-Superbowl thing, are they? I really don’t want to PVR that whole thing, nor do I want to lurk in front of the TV all day.

Ah well. I suppose if I somehow miss, I can still catch it on YouTube later…

 

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