The city of Toronto, for the past two weekends at least, has opened itself up into a wonderland kind of paradise for me. I have been hopping, much in the way of the white rabbit, from event to event, enchanted.
First, we had a wonderful dinner companion who, although he did the hopping, allowed us to drive him back home. I can’t recall the last time someone came here for dinner, shared so much of himself, and seemed to truly want to be here. No offense to gay men everywhere, but we have few homosexual friends (Mike and Stephan excepted) who don’t find their skin crawling just a little in and among the two pianos, the half-finished kitchen, the hundred-year-old furniture, and the unpainted subfloors.
The next night, we sat in the balcony of Trinity-St. Paul’s Church enthralled by bassist Alison Mackay’s Tafelmusik production of Bach in Liepzig. Here’s a review from the Santa Barbara News Press:
Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra and Chamber Choir take audiences on a musical journey to the city of Leipzig during the 18th century, when J. S. Bach lived and worked there. Bach in Leipzig is another imaginative conceptual concert conceived by Tafelmusik bassist Alison Mackay, whose most recent creations was the “imaginative, engaging, and spontaneous” Galileo Project (San Diego.com), which recently toured to the United States and is scheduled to premiere in Asia next fall.
Bach in Leipzig is narrated by Soulpepper’s William Webster, with Jeanne Lamon and Ivars Taurins directing the Orchestra and Chamber Choir. Featured works include large choral movements from Cantatas 137, 207, 30a and 118b, a variety of instrumental movements from trio sonatas, chorale settings, and arrangements from Bach’s keyboard works including the Goldberg Variations.
Mackay’s gift for creating programmes that present baroque music in a unique context for 21st-century audiences has been widely recognized. Toronto Star music critic John Terauds named her “one of five musicians who made me proud to be a Torontonian over the past year” in 2009, and the American reviews for The Galileo Project have been unanimously positive: “Intonation approached a golden mean of perfection; styling, phrasing, bowing, color, articulation — all in superb focus — mined the full array of emotion and subtext that divines the repertoire.”
Sunday, we enjoyed a marvellous birthday brunch at Whitlock’s (1961 Queen East in the Beaches, call 647-260-0604). The atmosphere is reminiscent of a woody bar I worked in years ago in PEI, and the buffet is laden: roast beef; ribs; eggs cooked to order; sausages; potatoes; pancakes; whipped cream and fresh fruit coulis; fresh bread and toast; orange, apple and what looked like cranberry juice; Greek salad; rice salad – in fact, several bowls heaped with various salads; grapes; honeydew melon; cantaloupe; rich desserts, and so on. Afterwards, we all trundled back here for coffee and home-made chocolate…mmm…custard-filled…mmm…cake.
This past Friday we spent an impromptu evening with lively friends, a couple we have known for a few years, and who live a ten minute walk away – ideal if alcohol is on your menu (which in this case, it invariably is). Their conversation is so passionate and engaging that I feel as if I might actually have something to say. And there is always something to learn. The best part about their separate and blended characters is their inclusion; their generosity; their intensity; their humour; the way they make a person feel as if she has value for them. And that they, both he and she, have always opened their home, and their homes away from home, to us, feels remarkable.
Saturday, mareseatoats and I went off with three very nice women to see My Mother’s Lesbian Jewish Wiccan Wedding, which, truth be painfully told, I thought I was going to find smarmy, tedious, pandering, silly…that sort of thing. What a terrific surprise. The play is tender, smart, evocative, heartbreaking, funny, well-written and well-performed. From Toronto Life:
David Hein and Irene Carl Sankoff have hit the jackpot. Their charming musical depiction of Hein’s relationship with his mom—and the resulting stories about coming out, meeting one’s future in-laws at Hooters and seven-parent weddings—was a must-see at this year’s Fringe. Mirvish scooped it up immediately; it’s only the second time the theatre giant has shepherded a show from the fest. Remember a little something called The Drowsy Chaperone?—Stéphanie Verge
When: Feb. 26/10 - Mar. 21/10 (held over until early April)Cost: $25–$60
Where: Panasonic Theatre 651 Yonge St. 416-872-1111 Event Web Site: http://www.mirvish.com
Afterward, we spent several hours over dinner at the beautifully atmospheric Spring Rolls, 693 Yonge Street, described on Toronto.com:
Spring Rolls is famous for its stylish atmosphere [see what I mean?] and decor, tasty food, and most of all, value prices. Offering a pan-Asian dining experience, the menu spans from Thai to Vietnamese to Chinese cuisine. The culinary tour comes with a distinct, contemporary flair. Take-out menus and catering is [are] also available.
I have never seen dessert like this, either – deep-fried bananas sprinkled with sesame and served with a bowlful of, in this instance, cocoanut ice cream, the plate lined with banana leaf, a sail of opaque plantain setting off the dessert to perfection.
Then yesterday, after months of anticipation, Mary and Mike and I set off on what turned out to be a minor pilgrimage, jotting down to the Varsity (“Too late! Too Late!”) and back to the Beaches for Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland. We found the last three side-by-side seats up in the preferred (by me) back row, and with 3-D glasses in place and chips and Pepsi in hand, we settled back for a spellbinding adventure.
Let me just say first, preemptively, that the critics at Rotten Tomatoes be damned for their aspersions of “cold” “unpleasant” “tiresome” “lacking in joy, innovation, curiosity” “bombastic” “predictable” “a missed opportunity” “leaden, formulaic” “lacks energy” …
If actions speak more loudly than words, first off all of those naysayers ought to have spent their afternoon in the theatre with us, where dozens of children, and adults, sat riveted in their seats, nail biting, crying, laughing, gasping, throat clutching, wet-eyed, wide-eyed, absolutely and reverentially silent, applauding at the end of the film.
I can’t imagine anyone calling Burton’s Alice in Wonderland cold! Mia Wasikowska is ideal as the curious and longing Alice; Helena Bonham Carter memorable as the heady Red Queen; Alan Rickman enticing as Absalon, the Blue Caterpillar; Matt Lucas tenderly funny as Tweedledee and Tweedledum; Stephen Fry purringly delicious as the Cheshire Cat, and Johnny Depp as moving as his bygone character, Edward Scissorhands, where he also geniusly interprets the theme of injustice.
Perhaps because I have not seen the bulk of Tim Burton’s films, I was not expecting a copy of the template. But as a woman who spent the bulk of her very young life wandering the parks and St. John riverbank and floral cemeteries of Fredericton, and who later read and re-read and re-re-read Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, I can tell you that the movie hit such a resonant chord that the credits weren’t half rolled away when I shouted, “Again! I want to see it again!”
What I especially loved about the film is the way Tim Burton and Linda Woolverton blended Lewis Carroll’s fiction with their own images and story manifestations, still managing to create a story that is appealing to every age group, while remaining true to the author who made the work possible in the first place.
I laughed (a lot), I cried (Johnny Depp’s eyes practically killed me), I worried, I wondered and wondered, and I was transported. The portrayals, costumes, cinematography, art direction, and special effects were terrific – naysayers be damned! In the beginning, middle and end, Alice was every wonderful thing it promised to be.
As if all of this weren’t enough, we tuned into Elvis Costello’s Spectacle last night in order to see the uber talented Ron Sexsmith (http://www.ronsexsmith.com/), and lo and behold, at the other end of the musical line sat Jesse Winchester, singing Sham-A-Ling-Dong-Ding – talk about a case of mass weeping – which sent me upstairs to http://www.jessewinchester.com/index.html and to two tickets purchased for his April concert at Hugh’s Room: 2261 Dundas Street West (http://www.hughsroom.com/). Happy birthday to me!
I could go on. (I listened to an excited message from my daughter this morning, for example…something about tickets, and something else about Sting...fourth row, floor!) (She loves her mother, there is no mistaking that.)
Suffice it to say that for any of you who decry the concrete jungle, we must fall short of complaining when looking for something to do. This city, as I said, is a veritable paradise, a cornucopia of musical, visual and culinary delights, where talent runs rampant and little children sit clasping their necks in wide-eyed wonder.
“I’m late! I’m late! For a very important date!” ~ White Rabbit
