Tag: live music

Roger Daltrey presents The Who’s Tommy

It was a long piece, but I knew if we could get to the “Listening to You” chorus, we’d be all right. We’d have them.

—Pete Townshend on performing Tommy

The raison d’être for Roger Daltrey’s latest tour—apart from his continued desire to keep performing for as long as he possibly can—is to present the Tommy album live in a way The Who never did: Playing the entire thing, in order, with the full complement of harmonies and keyboards and everything included on that iconic album.

Witnessing this Friday night, it became clear that there are a few problems with that approach. The original album is sequenced a bit weirdly, both story-wise and musically. And even with the dropping long, instrumental “Underture”, it’s quite long. So while you would certainly build and gain momentum through some sequences: 1921, Amazing Journey, Sparks, Christmas… Or particularly, Pinball Wizard, Tommy Can You Hear Me, Smash the Mirror… Momentum would then somewhat be lost by the necessity of then performing a lesser track like Sensation or Sally Simpson.

(“Is this still Tommy?” Jean asked, about three-quarters of the way through.)

That said, there was still plenty to enjoy about the live performance of this opera, and it wasn’t all the expected stuff. Like, for example, seeing Roger Daltrey, for the first time (that I know of) taking on the villain’s roles in “Cousin Kevin” and “Fiddle About”. He seemed to really relish those two roles (maybe nice to finally not be the in Tommy/victim role), and sank his acting chops into the interpretation. I can honestly say I’ve never enjoyed either of those songs more.

Tommy under Cousin Kevin's foot

30 years after being under Cousin Kevin’s boot, Daltrey finally gets to turn the table

Another surprise was just how enjoyable the silly little “Tommy’s Holiday Camp” song was—possibly because it is perhaps the only giddy moment in this rather grim little opera. It was totally fun.

And the songs you expected to be great… Really were great. Last time I saw Roger in concert, the microphone twirling was very limited and approached rather gingerly. But clearly the old man’s been practicing, because it was whipping around like nobody’s business during “Pinball Wizard” and the finale. It was impressive. See:

And speaking of that finale… I’ve seen many videotaped versions of The Who leading the crowd toward what seems an almost religious experience after Roger Daltrey sings the “See Me / Feel Me” chorus for the last time, and then everyone joins in on the “Listening to you / I get the music” chorus. But I’d never participated in that. And this crowd was fantastic. The second that moment came around, everyone was on their feet, rushing the stage, pumping their fists, singing along… It looked, sounded, and felt amazing. The ovation at the end was huge. Daltrey appeared really touched by it.

But how was the voice?

Last time I’d heard Daltrey perform, two years ago, the voice was not good. He’d even had to cancel some performances. So I felt grateful to have seen him perform at all. But that whole show, he was singing through a thick, nearly hoarse, rasp.

It was much, much better this time out. This isn’t to say it was perfect. Despite the humidifier going, the water, the tea, the strictly enforced smoking ban in theatre, the voice did crack on some of the high notes—for example, on the See Me / Feel Me part of “Christmas”. But it sounded beautiful on others — for example, on the See Me / Feel Part of “We’re Not Going to Take It”. And in the lower ranges, there were no issues at all.

(By the way, entire tour performances available from http://www.livedownloads.com/. I hear can now confirm that the Altanta show was particularly good – no voice cracking. )

The concert, Part 2

The second half of the show featured a variety of songs among the now rather large catalog Roger and his band have rehearsed. And where the Tommy had some unavoidable lulls, the second half was nothing but highlights, including (but not limited to):

  • A bluesy version of “My Generation”
  • A lovely take on my favorite Who song, “Behind Blue Eyes”
  • The Simon Townshend spotlight song, “Going Mobile”
  • An incendiary version of “Young Man’s Blues” (which Roger seems to love the irony of singing, now that he is the old man with all the money), complete with some highly showy microphone twirling, and integrations of the relatively rare Who track called “Water”.

Also fun was his solo track, “Days of Light”. And on “Baba O’Riley”, when he unbuttoned his shirt all the way (as the Toronto Sun’s [female] writer said, “it was an impressive display.” It’s not normal to get even more fit and muscular as you age, is it?), raised his arm, and his full head of hair was backlit, you were definitely reminded that this was the iconic rock God of the seventies, right there, right now, still.

Roger Daltrey - Baba O'Riley

Still a rock god

We want to be on stage, but we don’t want to be on a pedestal. We’re like you. I’m like you. That’s what this song says to me.

— Roger Daltrey, Toronto, September 30, 2011

Since I knew that the playlist for the second half varied from night to night, I was trying not to get my hopes up about any particular song being performed. But in truth, there is one I really wanted to hear: “Without Your Love”. [Because I’m a sap!] I was not to be disappointed on that front. He did a lovely job with it.

After that, he explained that they had a strict time limit for this particular performance, and performed one last song, the lovely “Red Blue and Grey”. I was feeling slightly miffed at apparently getting a shortened show, but you know, the thing started before 8:00 (with a quite good opening act), Roger and band took the stage somewhere between 8:30 and 8:45, and it was nearly 11:00 when it was over. No breaks.

I supposed 2-2.5 hours is a reasonable length of concert for a 67-year-old man who just had throat surgery.

Our seats

Though I tried not to fret overly much before attending this concert, one thing I did wonder about a bit was just how good our seats were, really. Turns out, they were really very good. We were in the fifth row, and though not right in the center, you could see everything really well. The only problem, really, is that is not very good seats for taking pictures and video. There was always a light right behind Roger’s head, which just washed out his face on film.

Roger Daltrey photo

One photo that didn’t turn out too badly

Fortunately, there were hundreds taking pictures and video there, so I’m not going to be deprived of that.

We did get talking to people before the show started. The guy beside us was kind of funny, as he didn’t seem entirely sure what he was about to see. And his question about how much the seat cost confused me a bit as well. Maybe he won his in in a contest? But, turns out he’d bought tickets from a scalper minutes before, so that explained that. He was a very friendly American from Florida, who’d last seen The Who perform around 1979.

And the people in the row in front us of turned out to be from Waterloo as well. But they’d bought their tickets on Tuesday! This Tuesday! Ticketmaster, I bought my tickets the day they went on sale. Why did these people get better ones, four days before the show? (They said it wasn’t from a reseller or anything.)

[Almost forgot about some lady behind us—apparently not such a big fan—who was nearly freaking out at having been told how long the show would be. Kind of funny.]

Anyway. The important thing is I was really close to Roger Daltrey again, and in fact, even managed to go stand right in front of the stage by evening’s end. (Even though we didn’t make eye contact this time.)

The band

The set list was actually somewhat similar to that of the 2009 Use It or Lose It tour, but it sure has acquired a professional sheen on this tour. In introducing his band, Roger said that they were “the best band I have ever played with.” Now, I don’t know if he’s including The Who among the bands he has played with, but there is no denying he has assembled a fantastic group of musicians here. They provide beautiful backup harmonies throughout, and completely solid musical accompaniment.

I also kind of met them before the show. As I was asking Jean if he remembered seeing what was likely Roger Daltrey’s limo drive past us when were walking over to the Orillia show two years ago [he didn’t], a big limo bus pulled up to the stage entrance of the Sony Centre. So we ambled over to see who would get off. Clearly, we did not meet Mr. Daltrey, or even the young Mr. Townshend. But we did see the keyboard player, and the drummer, and musical director and lead guitarist Frank Simes was particularly nice with all the fans.

Meeting Frank before the show

The famous-only-by-association Frank Simes

Our buddy Frank

Our buddy Frank on stage

The crowd

I’ve already mentioned them a few times, but it was a great crowd. (The place looked sold out to me; I don’t know if it actually was.) Mostly boomers, of course, but a number of them brought their teenage kids, so that made for a nice younger contingent. I could sense (and hear, in all the singalongs) a real diehard Who crowd. Jean, who didn’t have such a constant laser focus on the man onstage, spent more time actually looking at the crowd and enjoying how much they were enjoying it.

And I’ll leave the last words to Jean.

You know, I didn’t hate that. I didn’t hate that at all.

It’s really high praise.

Music and movie in the park

I’m late in writing about this, but what the heck.

Last Thursday, July 21, was the hottest of the summer so far, and one of the hottest on record ever. (And must say I was surprised to discover that these parts have never registered 40C before. Because, like, Sudbury has…) Nevertheless, we decided to go to an outdoor event: Music and Movies in the Park.

Sponsored by Beat Goes On and Princess Cinemas, these free events take place in Waterloo Park, supporting the food bank. The evening begins with a live band, then as the sun lowers, they put up a big screen and show a movie. We arrived armed with lawn chairs, water, hats, bug stuff (not needed), and a few snacks. Though I couldn’t resist also buying a bag of popcorn.

The band we saw were called The Slacks, and they were a quite decent cover band who did tunes by artists like Neil Young, the Grateful Dead, the Dandy Warhols, and The Who (“Drowned” from Quadrophenia). We had a pretty good viewing spot, and didn’t find the heat too bad. It was evening, albeit still 32C when we left, but the sun wasn’t beating down overhead anymore, and there was a breeze. Plus, we were just sitting there. One thing I did notice was that my feet got really warm, despite my being in little sandals. Guess the ground was just really hot.

RangoThe movie, shown on this big inflatable screen we watched them set up after the band was done, was the animated Rango, starring Johnny Depp’s voice. Interestingly for such a warm day in the middle of our drought, it all takes place in a desert town, centering around lack of water. Pet lizard Rango is thrown from his owner’s car during an accident, and has the cope with being in the real world filled with suspicious locals.

Though nothing you can’t let kids see, this particular animated movie really has more to offer adults, I think. There’s no way kids are going to get all the sly references and tributes to other films (including some of Depp’s, and adult fare like Chinatown), or the jokes about lesbians and peyote and such. But for grown-ups, it’s quite entertaining. (Jean expressed amazement that I finally took him to a movie he liked!)

Then the Saturday after, we escape to Port Stanley where, if anything, it was even hotter and stickier. But we took our time walking around, took refuge in air conditioned shops—which featured some nice paintings, photos, accessories, gourmet foods—and on the beach, including a dip in Lake Erie, which hasn’t overheated. We also enjoyed the very good local restaurants, partaking of Lake Erie fish and nicely priced Ontario wines from the banner 2007 year. Jean put some photos up at Picassa.

We paid $48 to watch someone do Pattycake

Last night, May 7, Lowest of the Low played Massey Hall the first time, the capper on their tour celebrating the 20th anniversary of “quite possibly the best Canadian debut album ever”, Shakespeare My Butt. I was not there. But I did see their sold-out show at the Starlight Club in Waterloo, on April 21.

The show itself, I have no complaints about. The opening act were Mick Thomas and Squeezebox Wally, an Australian duo so taken with Shakespeare My Butt  that they would play the entire album at their shows. They even made one of the songs—“Rosy and Grey”—a hit there. So there was much more collaboration between opening act and headliner than you normally get, with Lowest members joining in on Mick’s set, and Mick contributing to the Lowest set.

Lowest of the Low played the entirety of Shakespeare My Butt, in order, then came back to do various songs from their other two albums, including “Black Monday” and “The Last Recidivist”. It was fun being in a room full of people who also knew all the words to all the songs. And it was nice to hear, from singer and main songwriter Ron Hawkins, that both “Subversives” and the afore-mentioned “Black Monday” were as honest and beautiful as they were because each was inspired by women he really loved. (He explained it in a less mushy way, but that’s what it came down to.) Performances of both those songs, I found particularly powerful.

But the room? With the low ceiling and all, the music was painfully loud. I had to do the extremely cool “Kleenex in the ears thing” to survive. And with the full house, it was hot and crowded. Plus, way too many tall dudes. I had to keep moving around, trying to get a spot where I actually see the band, and not just the back of someone’s head. The crowd was very well-behaved—no smoke of any kind, and surprisingly little beer spilled. But still. I’d say I’m too old for this kind of show, but I didn’t really like them when I was younger, either.

So kind of glad I didn’t drag any friends with me to this, as I feel I would have just had to apologize. Instead, I suggest, just check out Lowest of the Low on record. That way you’ll thank me later. Maybe start with these ones:

  • “4 O’Clock Stop”, Shakespeare My Butt, the insanely catchy opening number. Lyrics may not cohere as a whole, but they sure feel right as they hurtle along.
  • “Black Monday”, Hallucigenia, as the singer regrets the effects of his depressive nature on the “sad and beautiful” Kate. “The way I am has never been too good for us.”
  • “Rosy & Grey”, Shakespeare My Butt, the most Canadian love song ever, where even “the smell of snow warms me today”.
  • “Gamble”, Hallucigenia, which sounds like it’s exactly about Buffy and Spike, Season 6, even though it was written before then.
  • “Henry Needs a New Pair of Shoes”, Shakespeare My Butt, a deceptively upbeat little ditty that, on closer listening, reveals the social conscience of the band, along with their sense of humour.

And now for something completely different….

A couple years ago I wrote about attending the Open Ears festival, and the organizers noticed. So the notified me about this year’s festival, “celebrating the art of listening”. It took place at a busy time for us, but we did manage to attend one concert: Toca Loca, on April 30.

Where Lowest gave me some unpleasant flashbacks to concerts of my youth, this was like nothing I’d ever seen or heard before. The opening number was “Temazcal”, a piece for maracas and tape. So recorded sounds were played, then a live percussionist joined in on maracas. That was followed by “AK-47”, a piano solo based on the assault rifle. It was both virtuosic, and pretty noisy.

Then there was “Pattycake”. Two performers sat facing each other clapping out the familiar childhood rhythm, but at increasingly dizzying speeds, and with some variation in the original words. It was riveting, as mistakes would be—if not disastrous—at least potentially quite painful. “Repetition is good. It builds trust. Soon you come to know what’s expected.”

In the next two pieces, all three members played along to pieces composed for them, one a fusion of New Wave, Synth-Punk, and No Wave (I don’t know what that means, either), the other a love song as expressed by an industrial machine.

And finally, the “Halo Ballet”. In this one, five gamers manipulated the Halo participants into a kind of dance pattern, instead of the usual trying to kill each other. They would shoot patterns into the sky, or be stacked on one other and twirl, or leap around in synchronicity. We watched all that projected on video. Meanwhile, of course, the band was supplying the soundtrack.

Afterward, Jean commented on how we had paid $48 to watch people do Pattycake. “Did you dislike the music?” “No, can’t say I disliked it.” “Were you bored?” “Absolutely wasn’t bored.”

Me either. $48 well spent. And looking forward to the next Open Ears, where I can hopefully experience more of the aurally novel.

A ballet at the Moulin Rouge and a symphony in space

The recent calendar has been a little busy, starting with a surprise party for Jean last Friday (at Verses), and a Valentine’s Dance on Saturday (at which we received some nice comments on our dancing, actually), and ending with another Verses dinner this Saturday, with a dance class and practice night fit in there as well.

And we also attended…

Moulin Rouge: The Ballet

The first ballet we’ve been to since, I think, the Ballet Béjart tribute to Freddie Mercury, quite a few years ago, in Montreal.

This one featured the Royal Winnipeg Ballet, and took place in our home town concert hall. It was inspired by the Bahz Luhrmann movie, but didn’t imitate it so closely as to get into copyright trouble. So though it is still a love triangle between a woman who works at the Moulin Rouge, an impoverished artist, and a more powerful man, they aren’t the same characters as in the movie. We still get a tango scene, and green fairy scene, but not at the same points, nor for the same reasons, as in the movie.

No matter. The plot isn’t the point in a ballet; it’s just window dressing for the dancing. And that setting and themes made for some really lively dancing. It particularly came to life, of course, with the extended can-can scene inside the Moulin Rouge. That part begun with an unfortunate flub, in which one dancer was nearly dropped, but otherwise the dancing was nothing but impressive. (Not that I’m any expert.) I wasn’t sure what Jean thought of the whole thing, but he assured me he found it enjoyable—even though he knows this may mean has had to attend another ballet in another 10 years or so.

And Friday, we had tickets to Symphony in Space.

Space image

This was a KW Symphony Pops concert intended to feature music with a astrological theme. So there was some Star Wars music, some Star Trek music, and some things you wouldn’t expect, like Bach’s Bradenburg Concerto, which apparently is out there on a space capsule somewhere, searching for intelligent life.

I’ve never seen conductor John Morris Russell before, but man, what an enthusiastic, lively personality he is. Along with being interested in science as well as music, he’s quite passionate about education, so the show also featured some young performers. The most adorable thing was seeing all these tiny violin players trot out to join the symphony in Suzuki’s “Variations on Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”. Brought back memories of my own violin-playing days. But these kids were much better.

The second half was hosted by an astronaut, Bjarni Tryggvason, who guided us through the planets of our solar system as the symphony played excerpts from Holst: The Planets and a bit of Mozart (Jupiter). This part was also accompanied by these gorgeous NASA photos of the various planets. It was really hard to get bored during this concert.

The conclusion featured the Eastwood Collegiate Concert Choir accompanying soloist AJ Bridel on “Defying Gravity” from Wicked. Man, does that girl have chops. Remember that name: She might be someone someday.

All in all it was one of the most enjoyable symphony performances of the season. Well worth making time for!

Classic albums live

A concert is not a live rendition of our album. It’s a theatrical event.

—Freddie Mercury

The most recent “Electric Thursdays” concert did not feature the usual Jeans’n’Classics band. Instead, it was the Classic Albums live crew, trademark “Note for note, cut for cut”. We were warned that there would not even be any talking to the audience ( I guess, because there wasn’t any on the album).

The subject of the “full album” treatment was The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper. And although the Centre in the Square website had the peculiar note that this concert did not feature the KWS (Kitchener Waterloo Symphony), that was not the case. They were there, although sitting farther back than usual. And also just sitting around more than usual, because of this idea of faithfully rendering the original album. Not all of which featured orchestra.

Now, though it is not my favorite Beatle album, I do like Sgt. Pepper. The musicians performing it were very good. The Symphony, when they did have occasion to play (“She’s Leaving Home”, “Mr. Kite”, and of course, “A Day in the Life”) sounded wonderful. The songs they played on were the highlight to me. The sound mixing seemed particularly good.

But the whole concept is kind of peculiar. The no interaction with the audience. The covering everything on the album, including the little sounds effects and spoken asides. Seemed more of an exercise than a performance, and left me a little cold, and Jean somewhat bored.

Fortunately, the second act, of “Beatles greatest hits” was somewhat more free-wheeling. They still stuck with the “as originally performed by the Beatles” idea, but by selecting a whole series of songs that were originally orchestrated, at least the Symphony had more to do. And this one did feature some of my favorites: I Am the Walrus, All You Need Is Love, Eleanor Rigby, Hey Jude.

The “encore”, which the only the band (not the symphony) came back for, turned into a rather extended set of various other Beatles classics like Ob-la-di Ob-la-da, While My Guitar Gently Weeps (with truly awesome re-creation of the original Clapton guitar solo), Twist’n’Shout, Norwegian Wood (with sitar, which was cool) and Helter Skelter! (And Jean amused me to no end with his shock that this cacophony of feedback was actually a Beatles song.) The band really seemed to be having fun at this part, and interacted a lot more with crowd, speaking occasionally, and getting us to clap and sing along at times.

Still, I have to say that overall, I prefer the Jeans’n’Classics approach. Even though they also sometimes do entire albums, sometimes even with the original artist, it’s never presented exactly as it was originally recorded. It’s always a re-creation, designed to take advantage of the concert hall and the variety of talented musicians available in the orchestra.

And isn’t that the point of live? To hear something different than what you can hear in your living room?

Magnetic North magnificence

Another thing I like is having Good Seats when I go to any kind of live performance. It’s to the point where I will avoid going completely if I Good Seats aren’t available—or are outrageously priced. Because I’ve tried, and I just know that being too far from the stage really does diminish my enjoyment.

Hence it was that we ended up at a performance of Norman last night.

Norman was playing locally as part of the Magnetic North theatre festival. I had never heard of this festival before, but apparently it’s been running for a number of years now. Every other year it goes to a new Canadian city; otherwise, it’s put on in Ottawa. This year is Kitchener-Waterloo’s turn.

When I heard about it, it sounded like something interesting and that I wanted to support. I was especially excited that Rick Mercer was doing a show as part of the festival. But when I finally remembered to try to get tickets for Rick’s show, the seats just weren’t that Good. Row M, kind of off to the side. It was dimming my enthusiasm.

So I looked through the program for what else might work, and Norman sounded interesting:

Most of us grew up with the work of Norman McLaren. Between slick Saturday morning cartoons or on clunky classroom projectors, McLaren’s mesmerizing work slid unexpectedly into the lives of generations of Canadians.

In the internationally acclaimed Norman, ground-breaking projection technology allows a performer to physically interact with the cinematic universe of award-winning Canadian film pioneer Norman McLaren. Join us as they delve into the vaults of Canada’s National Film Board to combine technology, animation and theatre in an unforgettable visual experience.

Seats were not actually being assigned for this, which made me think they weren’t expecting a big crowd. Smaller crowds always greatly enhance your chance of Good Seats. So I got tickets for that.

The performance was at 7:00. We arrived around 6:35 to find the Centre in the Square looking eerily empty, with maybe 10 other people there at that point? So yeah, no problem getting Good Seats!

As the performance approached, fortunately, more people showed up. The crowd was still one of the smallest I’ve seen at the Centre, but at least had swelled to filled all the best seats in the house (though all the bad ones were empty).

I wasn’t terribly clear on what we were about to see, Jean even less so—he had no idea who Norman McLaren was, and had been telling people he was going to something called Daniel that night. After a short announcement, which concluded with the reminder to turn off your cell phones, the lights dimmed, all went quiet, and…

Someone’s cell phone started ringing. Couldn’t believe it!

That is, until I realized that this was part of the show. The single performer, dancer Peter Trosztmer, talked on the phone on his way to the stage, then addressed us about his obsession with Norman McLaren.

The 90 minutes that followed are really hard to describe, but were completely riveting. Peter would talk about McLaren, show parts of his films, but also interact with them in dance movements. He would dance between the intersecting lines. He would bat away the assembling and dissembling balls. He pulled away Norman’s chair in the well-known Chairy Tale, then interacted with his own. He became one of the dancers in the beautiful Pas de Deux.

I don’t know how they did it all, but it was absolutely brilliant.

Intersected with these film/dance pieces were documentary bits, in which holographic images of various people who worked with McLaren spoke about him. Also shown were some interviews with McLaren himself. It all gave me a much deeper appreciation of McLaren’s genius, particularly his skill at making music visual. It makes me want to go watch a bunch of his movies—which, fortunately, the NFB makes easy to do. (And isn’t it fabulous that staid old Canada funds a film board where an eccentric genius can spend a lifetime producing abstract short films?)

Much as I was taken with the whole thing, I wasn’t sure how Jean would react, but I needn’t have worried. Though he opined that it could perhaps have been a tad shorter, overall, he was in awe. He loved it.

So thanks to all you people who quickly snapped up the Good Mercer Seats, thus leading me to one of most intriguing live performances I’ve ever seen.

Thank you. Thank you very much.

I can’t say that I was never a big Elvis fan.

Back in Grade 3, my teacher was a nun. (Catholic school system, natch.) Over lunch, she’d play music. Some French stuff (it was also a French school). Some religious stuff. And an Elvis album.

Now, Elvis (I’ve since learned) has done a lot of gospel, but that’s not what she played. She played his rock’n’roll stuff. I didn’t find it odd at the time, but thinking back on it now, it does seem a bit odd. But it also says something about his mass appeal (pun not intended, but there it is).

Anyway, of all the music she played, this was the only bit I really cottoned to. I liked me some Elvis. I started bugging my parents to get me one of his albums. Eventually they did—one of the greatest hits things, I guess. I would play it, studiously looking over the cover art, the song list.

But not that long after, I moved on to my next musical love, the Bay City Rollers. (Eight-year-olds are so flighty.) And I never really got back to Elvis. I did and do appreciate that he’s a very influential figure in music history. I watched Jonathan Rhys in the really good Elvis miniseries, and thought that was a very poignant story. But I don’t really listen to him much, and can’t really call myself a fan.

So I had no particular expectations walking into the latest Electric Thursdays concert, Elvis: The Way It Was. But the few I had were immediately shattered when the band walked out to join the KW Symphony. Hey, where’s Peter Brennan? Where’s the Jean’s’Classics band?

Turns out that this was to be the first-ever Electric Thursdays concert to not be scored by Brennan. Instead, conductor Daniel Warren took the honours. In fact, the whole thing was his idea.

Elvis impersonator Stephen Kabakos.
Stephen Kabakos as Elvis

The part of “Elvis” was played Stephen Kabakos. In look and sound, he was a reasonable facsimile of “The King.” But he didn’t pretend to be Elvis. He referred to himself as Stephen, and said he was just playing tribute to his favorite singer.

The show was structured according to various famous Elvis appearances: The Hawaii concert. The movies. The Ed Sullivan Show. Vegas. The comeback show in ’68 (hey, I remember that one from the Jonathan Rhys movie!). This required a certain number of costume changes, and you could definitely feel the energy drop when Kabakos wasn’t on stage. But it was fun to get kind of a “tour” of his career highlights.

The sound mix was a bit dodgy at first—we couldn’t hear the backup singers at all, and could just barely hear “Elvis”—but fortunately that was quickly resolved. I can’t really comment on the quality of the orchestration, as it really felt like it was taking a backseat to the whole Elvis show most of the time. But certainly the arrangement of “Bridge Over Troubled Water” stood out as particularly beautiful and effective.

Kabakos was in good voice, and was charismatic and funny. “Know why Elvis walked the way he did? To get the hair bounce just right,” he said, demonstrating a “normal” walk with no bounce, and the Elvis swagger, with bounce.

“Why do I always end up sitting in front of a guy?” He asked, during the “sit down at the edge of the stage and sing right into the audience” portion of “Love Me Tender”.

“The men are always dragged kicking and screaming to an Elvis show. The women are like, ‘We’re going to be late’! But guys… The suits are available for rent. Totally worth it.”

To an audience shout that he “take it off” when he commented that the leather outfit was very warm, “You have no idea how long it took to put it on!”

All in all, a fun night out, and a worthy tribute.

Music and food

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 sacrificed 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 me 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 (Shostakovich, not Nick) 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 that 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). On 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.

The Music of Fleetwood Mac

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. Very good. 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 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 liked that some non-single but excellent songs from that classic album, such as “The Chain” and “Oh Daddy” were included. 

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!

Weekend update

We’ve had varying success with recent weekend activities.

Failures:

  • Ben Heppner, who failed 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 in 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 it, I can still catch it on YouTube later…