Anne At The Arden

We attended Cantilon Choirs' production of Anne of Green Gables last night at the Arden theatre in St. Albert; it's a lovely stage, with great acoustics and lighting. Fenya played the part of Diana Barry, Anne's best friend in her new home of Avonlea, P.E.I..

The musical takes a few liberties with the story, giving a new motivation to the eventual departure of Mr. Spencer, the overbearing teacher, which is linked to the over-tutored Prissy Andrews.

The costumes, hair and makeup were exquisitely done, and captured the period perfectly.

The staging was fairly minimalist, but very effective, and occasionally imaginative. When the pennants dropped from overhead, it was all too easy to believe you were witnessing an outdoor picnic in June, complete with handmade ice cream (which leads in to Fenya's big number of the same name).

Here she regales the younger students with tales of the wondrous things she witnessed in the bustling metropolis of...Charlottetown?

Fenya also got a lovely duet with Elizabeth as Diana and Anne sing about being 'Kindred Spirits', prefaced by Diana's confession that her dream is to eventually "marry a wicked young man, and then gradually reform him."

When Prissy returns to Avonlea, it is as Mrs. Spencer, and roundly pregnant. And if that's bad enough, you have to listen to the smug git sing about the results of planting a tiny seed...gak! I understand the actress also didn't warn her boyfriend in the audience that she would be appearing laden with child, but I hope his response was memorable.

It was a capacity show, largely full of friends and relations, but it was tremendously well done, and appreciatively received by the audience.

Given how expressive she is, I'm still a bit saddened that Fenya was never particularly interested in drama, and sure, it's probably just a father's vanity, but when I see her do something funny on stage, I think, 'Your loss, Hollywood."

Elizabeth was a wonderful Anne, full of dramatic vigor and mischievousness.

Here, some of the principals ham it up in reaction to the apocryphal pregnancy.

Since this may be Fenya's last big production with Cantilon (since she is taking a gap year before starting university), I'm glad her Aunt Betty got a shot of her with the choir's artistic director and conductor, Heather Johnson, who has been such a big part of Fenya's life for the past 12 years.

Kudos to everyone involved in such a magnificent production!

No Winspear Mosh Pit: Nightwish in Concert, Reviewed

Nightwish. At the Winspear.

It is simply not possible to overstate the awesomeness of having one of Europe's preeminent and influential power metal bands play in Edmonton's premiere concert venue.

For the majority of people who do not know that Nightwish is even a band, let alone what sort of music they play, let's clarify that they describe themselves as a 'symphonic power metal' group, originally built around crushing power chords, an eccentric keyboardist and songwriter, and an immensely talented mezzosoprano named Tarja Turunen. Skillfully weaving together heavy metal, opera, and symphonic and soundtrack music, they were considered pioneers in the burgeoning genre of power metal when they formed 20 years ago, and are Finland's third most popular recording artists (for comparison, Madonna is 11th).

To be completely honest, when the tour was announced, I was initially more interested in the opening acts of Delain and Sonata Arctica, having only a couple of Nightwish CDs in my collection. After purchasing their most recent album Endless Forms Most Beautiful (the first studio release with new lead vocalist Floor Jansen), I was eagerly anticipating a great show from the headliners.

And that's what we got.

Their show opened on a darkened stage, and Hans Zimmer's "Roll Tide" (from the movie Crimson Tide) filled the air to set the mood. The lights slowly came up as the music changed to the introduction from Shudder Before the Beautiful, and cheers rang out as the band took their positions, and became deafening when Floor strode onstage.

And I do mean strode; the woman has a considerable stage presence, which is aided by the fact that she is 6'1", and had a strategically placed fan in front of her mic stand to add a little motion to both her long hair and the cape she was wearing.



For the two opening acts, ushers had actually asked concertgoers to remain in their seats, but three songs in, Nightwish had everyone in the sold out Winspear Centre on their feet, throwing the horns, banging their heads, and cheering throatily.

Dutch openers Delain did an admirable job getting the crowd warmed up, but were down one guitarist (much to the chagrin of many ladies in the crowd, as bassist Otto Schimmelpennick van Oije is indisputably good looking and puts many dedicated metalhead hairfarmers to shame with his locks), but have also added petite tour guitarist Merel Bechtold to their lineup.

I've no idea where Otto was, but I was also surprised and delighted to discover (at the merch table) Delain had released a new EP, Lunar Prelude, and opened with its new single, Suckerpunch. It is the kind of powerful, catchy anthem you'd expect from a synth based outfit, gives vocalist Charlotte Wessels quite a bit to play with, and it almost made up for the fact that they didn't play Stardust.



Apparently I need to get on Twitter in order to keep up with the bands I like, and I hope the next time Delain comes to town they do so as headliners, so if anyone reading this hears anything about future appearances, please let me know!

Sonata Arctica is one of my favourite bands, full stop, and vocalist Tony Kakko is a funny and engaging frontman with a tremendously powerful voice. Both their set and their setup suffered a little from opening act-itis, insofar as both volume and mixing needed a bit of work, but I still wish they could have played a longer set. They did get in Audrey's favourite, I Have a Right, a song written around the UN Declaration of Rights of the Child, and closed out with their signature hit Don't Say a Word. Opening acts don't really get encores, but SA got everyone up to sing their traditional closer, "Vodka/ We want some vodka" to the tune of Hava Nagila,

All the artists made a point of expressing their appreciation for the classiness of the venue, but I wonder if the venue perhaps dampened the crowd's enthusiasm a bit. It's not like there is room for a mosh pit at the Winspear, y'know? Being a fat, middle-aged guy (a demographic with ample representation at the concert!), I was fairly content to sit and bop my head, but was actually glad when I had to take my feet during Nightwish's performance.

Our friends Jon and Michelle joined us from Camrose for the show, Jon mostly as a Delain fan and Michelle as a classically trained voice and piano teacher who is also a willing explorer of unfamiliar musical genres, and you could not have asked for a better concert to showcase such variety.

Keyboardist and songwriter Tuomas Holopainen somehow manages to imbue powerful, guitar driven heavy metal with melodic and symphonic elements from many cultures, and the tracks from Endless Forms have a significant Celtic influence to them. This is probably due in no small part to bringing former session musician and uillean pipe player Tory Donockley officially into the band 3 years ago, around the same time they welcomed Floor.

Donockley is a charmer and a talented multi-instrumentalist, playing the aforementioned great Irish warpipes, the mandolin-looking Celtic bouzouki, Irish pipe and tin whistle, bass guitar and even adds cumbrian chanting to the beginning of My Walden.

Nightwish transitions naturally and seemingly effortlessly from operatic vocal solos to shredding guitar work on tracks like Stargazer. The shredding is courtesy of Emppu Vuorinen, who, to his credit, shows no discomfort at playing right next to a vocalist who towers 10" over him (his nickname is The Hobbit, and the band's visual presence made me think they could model for D&D covers  or a movie adaptation of Gauntlet - Rogue, Wizard, Valkyrie and Gnome).

They have tremendous variations in both pace and volume, with ballads like Bless the Child generating a forest of waving arms from the crowd, some holding their cellphones, but the one old-schooler with an actual lighter was swiftly admonished by a Winspear usher.

Watching bassist (and supporting composer, as it turns out) Marco Hietala, imposing and impish with his forked beard and wicked grin, switch from growling background vocals to taking the lead on the softer but still powerful ballad While Your Lips Are Still Red while wielding en enormous double-necked guitar was a real revelation.

These slower spots were also a great chance to catch our breath before the big finale: the middle third of The Greatest Show On Earth. The album version is a 26 minute epic (!) praising the miracle of evolution, and including references to the Goldilocks zone and LUCA. Science!

Floor Jansen is a marvel. As a singer, she displays the same degree of versatility as the rest of the band, singing ethereally to open Bless the Child and operatically on Stargazer, then bringing ominous and husky growls to the verses of Greatest Show On Earth before just fully rocking out on the chorus.

Her countenance can portray the ominousness of Morticia Addams while singing, or the playfulness of your favourite cousin while smiling and chatting up the crowd, and with a stature and presence that could see her standing in for Wonder Woman if Gal Gadot doesn't work out onscreen.

Exhorting the crowd to sing along with the final line of "We were here", she sustained the last notes longer than anyone, her voice still clear and powerful after an 11 minute song wrapping up a 90 minute set that saw her singing on every number save one.

As a newcomer to power metal, Michelle was pleasantly surprised how much she enjoyed the show, favouring Delain the most, but enjoying Nightwish more than she expected. Jon was a bit let down, Nightwish didn't play the title track from the new album but had a great time. Glory and Audrey had a wonderful time, and especially appreciated the humor and energy Tony Kakko brought to the middle of the evening.

For me, it was a perfect confluence of three talented bands playing music in a genre we just don't get to hear enough of in Edmonton, and in my favourite venue, and with people dear to me. Last night was very likely the highwater mark for power metal concerts for me, and I think it will be quite some time before it gets supplanted in my memory, if ever.

My hope is that the fact that it was a sell-out show combined with the artists clear appreciation for both the venue and the crowd means that word will spread, and that we will perhaps see even more shows like this before Nightwish returns, And that return cannot happen soon enough to suit me.

Louder Than The Band - Blind Guardian in Concert

I only started listening to Power Metal about 10 years ago, but I have been fortunate enough to see several of my favourite bands over the past few years: Dragonforce, Tyr, Sonata Arctica, and as of last night, Germany's Blind Guardian.

Not very well known in North America, Blind Guardian has been around since the mid-80s, with three members of the current band going back to 1988, which I would normally consider pretty good for a rock outfit.

On the other hand, their opening act, Grave Digger, are currently in their 35th year, and another German band that inspired BG at the start, Helloween, is also still kicking, so maybe Ponce De Leon should have gone to Finland instead? I dunno.

I had purchased Blind Guardian's latest album, Beyond the Red Mirror, back in March of this year, and although it took a while to grow on me, I came to really appreciate the complex orchestration and choral elements that made this collection of tracks sound truly epic.

When I heard Blind Guardian was coming to town, I pitched them to my friends as follows:

"Okay, imagine that Marillion and Queen had a baby, and that baby grew up listening to Slayer and Iron Maiden, and learning the classics in school while playing D&D and reading all the appendices to Lord of the Rings; that's Blind Guardian."

The opening act, Grave Digger, are still hard at it three-and-a-half decades later, but they never really grabbed us. Listening to them was a bit nostalgic in some ways, taking us back the Pepsi Power Hour on MuchMusic, but the band has simply not kept pace with the times, playing familiar but resonant power chords.

There was nothing wrong with their sound, and some of us thought it was cool that their keyboardist dressed in black robes and a skull mask, like their trademark Reaper character. And considering the band was formed when I was in Junior High School, the fact that their lead singer can still perform in leather trousers is also kind of impressive.

Blind Guardian took the stage at Union Hall a little after 10:00, accompanied by the taped intro from their new album's opening track, The Ninth Wave. A dramatic and adventurous track with one of the band's signature sing-along choruses, it was an energetic way to open the show.

Unufortunately the Union Hall (formerly Goose Looney's and Thunderdome) is not the most sonically forgiving venue; in fact, I would say it has the worst sound of any site in Edmonton that is not actively engaged in industrial fabrication. To be fair, I don't really have the kind of ear that can tell how much is the venue and what might be due to the guy on the sound board, and I had earplugs in to save my hearing as well.

On the other hand though, when someone in the mosh pit holds up a two-foot wide sign that says "SO SORRY YOU HAD TO PLAY UNION HALL", well. It is never a good sign, is it? Whatever the reason, the sound never sounded crisp enough to me, with both the keyboards and the lead vocalist getting washed out at times.

Now, part of the reason I had trouble hearing Hansi Kursch's notes and growls is because the incredibly lively crowd sang along to the chorus on pretty much every damn song. From cuts off the newest album like Twilight of the Gods to concert staples like Valhalla, and a lot of tracks in between that I wish I had been more familiar with.

After the raucous sing alongs, my favourite element of the evening was the drummer, Frederik Ehmke, who climber on stage with no shirt and balanced power and precision throughout the show, and looked like he had a great time doing it to boot. I think that if you shaved Animal from the Muppets, you might end up with a smaller version of Ehmke, which is only a good thing.

All in all, it was a great show, maybe just shy of two hours, with an engaged crowd made all the more lively when Kursch told them they would be recording the show for a future live album. Hopefully my assessment of the acoustics is off enough to perhaps hear one of the songs on a CD one day!

We all had a good time, even the lads unfamiliar with the band, including Jack's dad, Jim, who came up from Calgary for a visit and the show. Thanks to streaming music services, most of them had a chance to sample some of the band's tracks prior to the concert.

I have more than enough black t-shirts, so I almost resisted the mercy table, but when I saw a how cool Jim's long-sleeve version was, it was a sure sale as soon as I found out they came in 3XL.

With a possible new live album on the way, as well as a Dwarf-themed project that has been gestating for something like 8 years, I was grateful for a chance to hear Blind Guardian live for the first time, especially with a great group like I went with. Hopefully they will return before too long.

In the meantime, I can console myself with the knowledge that the next concert I go to will be in a much better venue, when we see Delain and Sonata Arctica open up for the seminal power metal band Nightwish at the Winspear in March!

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Magical Flute, Amazing Moments

Given that it has taken me almost five decades (ugh) to attend a live opera performance, it's possible I may not live long enough to attend another one.  I mean, I would certainly like to; it was a tremendous experience that I would love to repeat, and far more accessible than you might anticipate.

Five or ten or more years from now, if I haven't returned to this epic melange of voice, symphony, colour and motion, if someone should ask if I have ever been to an opera, I look forward to smiling and saying, "Only one...but I did see it twice."

I had previously mentioned just how much work Fenya and her two Cantilon comrades have put in while preparing for the Edmonton Opera Company's production of The Magic Flute.  There were eight 4-hour rehearsals in the ten days leading up to opening night this past Saturday, plus another three hours technical setup on one of the afternoons, all while diploma exams loomed at the same time.  Thankfully Fenya only had one exam this time around, which she wrote a week ago Friday.  Once that was out of the way, there wasn't even an opportunity to sleep in, as her choir had another rehearsal for their presentation of Mary Poppins on Saturday morning.  It appears that "no rest for the weary" is not so much a cliché as it is an inviolable maxim for those in the performing arts.

In addition to Audrey, Glory and myself, the opening night audience included Fenya's Auntie Betty and cousin Kara-Lynn from Rocky Mountain House, as well as Auntie Tara and Uncle Jerry from Leduc.

We enjoyed a glass of wine in the lobby of the Jubilee auditorium, and examined an infographic by photographer Nanc Price that layed out precisely how much work and just how many people are involved in staging such a complex production.

Seeing Fenya's photo and bio in the Intermezzo magazine cemented the reality and scope of the event in our minds, while simultaneously adding a glaze of surreality to the proceedings. Soon the time came to take our seats,

How do I encapsulate such an experience?  With great difficulty, it turns out.  My points of appreciation included:

• The deep resonance of hearing one of Mozart's last scores being performed live by talented musicians.
• The giddy glee I felt at watching three lovely ladies brandishing spears at an origami-inspired giant serpent and trilling "Die monster, die!" in German, as a significant pyrotechnic effect laid the beast low. 
• The beautiful menace of the Queen of the Night, dominating the stage in her amazing costume, and Teiya Kasahara's amazing rendition of one of the world's most recognizable arias.
  
• The solemn bravery of the hero, Tamino (Adam Luther), juxtaposed with the humor and nervous energy of his counterpart, the birdcatcher Papageno (John Brancy), who provides a baritone Han Solo to the tenor's Luke Skywalker.
  
• Jessica Muirhead's performance as Pamina, alternately funny and heartbreaking, and all tremendously moving, despite my lack of fluency in German.
• The perverse villainy of Monostatos, portrayed with oleaginous mirth by Michael Barret, and balanced in such a way that, as creepy as it was for adults, wouldn't give younger attendees nightmares.  Also, another brilliant costume by Deanna Finnman.
  
  
• A story that marries magic and reason in a tale extolling the virtues of diligence, love, and friendship.

The overall vibrancy of the entire production cannot be adequately captured in words, so I strongly recommend you check out Nanc Price's photos via her flickr album; they are simply breathtaking.

I would have enjoyed myself tremendously even without Fenya appearing in the cast, but the first moment she, Alla and Aanchel came onstage, my heart nearly burst. Fantastically attired, moving with confidence, smiling brilliantly, and singing sweetly, all at once the work and anxiety leading up to that moment crystallized onstage, and I literally felt my breath catch; this was the real thing.  My daughter was onstage for a professional production of the world's 4th most performed opera, and she was clearly having the time of her life.

'Pride' is not nearly big enough a word to describe how I felt, and how I still feel, days later.

We were grinning from ear to ear when Fenya arrived from backstage with her makeup still on, receiving accolades and hugs from everyone, and flowers from her sister and cousin.

John Brancy (Papageno) stopped to introduce himself on the way by, and to compliment Fenya on her singing and hard work; a complete gentleman.

The next morning, Audrey's sister Vera called to ask how it had gone, and confessed that she had taken to checking online for airline seat sales every couple of hours in hopes of coming to see the opera, but to no avail.  While she and Audrey commiserated over the phone, I used my iPad to confirm a suspicion, and once I'd done so, suggested we use some of our accumulated Air Miles to fly Vera  out on Tuesday.

Having sorted that out, she then contacted Oma, and after flying into Calgary Tuesday afternoon and driving her to Edmonton, the two of them (accompanied by Audrey) took in their first opera that evening, and shared our gobsmacked admiration.

Thursday afternoon, I decided it was ridiculous to not go see the opera a second time if I had the opportunity to do so; I'd greatly enjoyed the experience, and who knew when another opportunity like this might present itself? So I arranged tickets at the will-call window and texted Audrey so that Glory would be ready to go.  That evening even more friends of ours were in attendance (Pete, Ellen, Scott and his daughter Elizabeth (who seemed pretty chuffed that her occasional babysitter was singing in an opera)) as well as Rev. Mervin and his wife Debbie from our church, and most of the Cantilon Chamber Choir.

Everyone I've spoken to seems to be quite as impressed as I was, not only with Fenya's debut and the tremendous performance by the Three Spirits, but with the production as a whole.  The reviewer from the Edmonton Journal even mentioned them briefly, saying, "The Three Ladies and Three Spirits are compelling vocally and dramatically."

But as good as it was, the performance itself was not the highlight of the experience.

The best part, by far, was listening to Fenya tell the backstage stories, about the things that worked right away and the ones that didn't, the improvisations they were able to add, and the discipline needed for their choreography.

Every story she told about an off-colour joke, or good-natured teasing, made it crystal clear that the other principal cast members did not regard the three of them as mascots or accessories, but as valued colleagues, worthy of respect.  You should read some of the cards she got from them; instead of the "Great work and good luck!" or variations on "Have a great summer!" from high school yearbooks, a renowned soprano like Teiya Kasahara took the time to compliment Fenya on her harmonies and sense of pitch. Jessica Muirhead praised Fenya's acting and singing, and chided her with a reminder to smile (a common theme during rehearsal).

As a parent, you are naturally inclined to be proud of your children, and I am certainly proud of both of mine.  Watching one of them make one of the first big steps in transitioning to adulthood, that is to say, going to work with a bunch of talented professionals and impressing them with her dedication and ability, that's really something else. The simple initiation into independent adult conversation, away from one's comfort zone of home and family, is not to be understated. Most importantly though, working so hard, for so long, on something so complicated in detail and breathtaking in scope, and to have it all come off without a hitch and to be rewarded by an appreciative audience? Magic, truly.

Driving home last night for the final time, I knew Fenya's feelings would be mixed; relief at having the performances (and rehearsals) behind her, but sadness at the inevitable passing of a tremendous experience.  "You've worked really hard, with amazingly talented, dedicated and generous people,and you've accomplished something absolutely amazing," I told her.  "That's the best that anyone can hope for in their work, and, God willing, this won't be the last time you experience it, no matter what you end up doing with your life."

To the cast and chorus and staff and musicians of Edmonton Opera's The Magic Flute, thank you so much for giving Fenya, Alla and Aanchel an experience that so closely mirrors the story from the opera itself: a magical journey from darkness to enlightenment, through perils both spiritual and corporeal, and accomplished through perseverance, friendship and love.

Choirs and Capes

Today was the annual Cantilon Winter Concert, Salvator Mundi. A tremendous performance, as always, and although Fenya had no solos this time around, she was one of 13 girls selected to sing the Irish carol, "The Holly and The Ivy Girl". This is a highly coveted song, not so much because of the content, but because the singers are entitled to wear elegant capes over their choir uniforms, and had become an established tradition over the years.

One problem is that this year, they were looking to be a cape short, and because it had been almost six years since this song has been performed, there was a significant amount of concern regarding exactly who would be allowed to 'cape up'.

One of the more senior girls explained that since the older choristers had been given precedence last time, and this had left her out, this meant a) she was going to wear a cape, b) the other high school girls should be wearing them as well, and c) one of the junior high girls should do the right thing, and volunteer to go capeless, since there weren't enough to go around, and they would be likely to get another chance anyways.

Sure enough, one of the younger singers said, "okay, I'll do it", and was widely lauded by the others for her selflessness.

However, this did not prevent her from breaking into tears later, presumably once she realized that it might be another six years before the capes came back into rotation, if they did at all!

Thankfully, a piece of similar material was found, and no one in the audience was cognizant of the fact that a dozen girls wore capes, while the thirteenth was wrapped in a shawl. The video is below, but here is the link in case the embedding is problematic: http://youtu.be/Wbwzy8RlHgs

The iPad takes pretty crappy video in low light, and I doubt you will be able to distinguish Fenya (she is front row, second from the right), but the song itself comes through nice and clearly, and that is the most important bit, capes or no capes.

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Venues and Veneration

Fenya and the rest of the Cantilon Chamber Choir are currently in Debrecen, Hungary, at the Bela Bartok Choir Competition.  They've been in Europe for over a week now, having arrived in Venice and toured through Krakow and Prague. They've performed at churches, chapels, castles, and other places along the way, including a moving streetcar in Debrecen itself, but the most intriguing venue thus far has probably been The Attic Theater in Terezin, in the Czech Republic. There, they performed a children's opera by Hans Krasa called Brundibar.

The story of Brundibar is a simple one, like most folk tales or fairy stories.  As described by Wikipedia:

Aninka [in English Annette] and Pepíček (Little Joe) are a fatherless sister and brother. Their mother is ill, and the doctor tells them she needs milk to recover. But they have no money. They decide to sing in the marketplace to raise the needed money. But the evil organ grinder Brundibár [who represents Hitler] chases them away. However, with the help of a fearless sparrow, keen cat, and wise dog, and the children of the town, they are able to chase Brundibár away, and sing in the market square.

We got to see the Cantilon performance of Brundibar just prior to their leaving on tour, and it's a lively little piece, even if Fenya feels the English translation leaves quite a bit to be desired.  Knowing ahead of time that there is an allegorical element adds quite a bit of depth to the experience, but not as much as learning about its performance history.

You see, Brundibar was first performed in 1942, at the Jewish Children's Orphanage in Prague, where many children separated from their parents by the tumult of World War II had ended up.   It was not long, however, before most of that city's Jewish inhabitants were transferred to a concentration camp and ghetto.  The opera's composer and set designer were already there when the children arrived, so he recreated the score from memory and adapted it to the few instruments on hand.  In lieu of costumes, a painted backdrop featuring the animal characters had holes cut out through which the performers could stick their heads.

The play was performed in its improvised venue 55 times over 1943 and 1944, including a special performance for an inspection group from the Red Cross.  The Nazis duped them into thinking the ghetto was a livable space because so many inhabitants had been hurriedly shipped off to the extermination camp in Auschwitz just prior to their arrival.

Hitler sent a film crew to film the final performance of Brundibar, so it could be included in the propaganda film 'The Fuehrer Gives the Jews a City'.

As soon as the applause was finished, all the performers, children aged 8-16, were taken directly from The Attic Theater in Theresienstadt (the German name for Terezin) and loaded onto cattle trucks.

They were driven to Auschwitz, and there, most of them were gassed upon arrival, including the composer and all the musicians.

Performing in a space with so much history and emotional resonance would have to be a trying experience for anyone, and yet Fenya and most of the other choristers were grateful for the opportunity.  I can only imagine what a powerful experience it must have been, and what a precious memory it will make.


Cantilon has uploaded a video of their performance of Brundibar at the Attic Theater to their YouTube channel, but I haven't the heart to watch all of it yet.  Seeing children of the same age as the victims of that atrocity, my daughter among them, in the same space, singing the same joyful tunes, is almost too much for me to bear.  Knowing that their tour bus broke down en route and that arranging a replacement cost them their rehearsal time, makes their jet-lagged, European-heat-wave-wilted, but determined performance all the more impressive.

I can see the toll it takes on Fenya from the way she wipes her eyes at the end of their encore piece, but her seeing it through is a victory that, for me at least, will overshadow whatever else happens at the Bartok Competition.

Low, and From the Heart

How to best describe the heart of an adolescent girl? Strong, yet brittle; passionate, despite often being unfocused; possessing a nearly infinite capacity for both compassion and the possibility of being wounded. Like an egg, perhaps, or a diamond prior to being cut; potential and tragedy vying for dominance.

 

Cantilon Chamber Choir is preparing for their European tour, which departs Edmonton tomorrow and culminates in a competition in Hungary. Their director has been pushing them relentlessly towards the potential she knows they are capable of, with 3 eight-hour rehearsals in the past four days (and a half-day in between, for good measure).

 

On the way to her concert last night, Fenya was talking about the emotional component of the music they perform: "Heather got mad at us today for not being expressive enough. 'You should be on the verge of crying!' she said."

 

"No kidding?" I replied. Maybe it's the strength of the selections, but I find most of their music profoundly moving, even when I don't understand the language being sung.

 

Fenya nodded, exasperated. "Yeah, so I guess I need to get I touch with my inner heartbroken girl. So I apologize in advance if am a bit witchy tomorrow."

 

Audrey and I assured her we would give her all the slack we could, in recognition of the Herculean efforts she and her fellow choristers were making to hone their edge before departure Thursday. Enough progress had been made and tears shed that Heather had actually relented, and cancelled the full-day rehearsal that had been scheduled for Wednesday, allowing her some additional time to rest and pack.

 

During the concert they performed a Finnish folk song called 'Kaipaava', as arranged by the acapella group Rajaton. It's a powerful piece, the tone of which captures the brittle fierceness of adolescent longing, as a girl laments the gap between herself and the one she loves. Fenya had suggested this would be a good piece to record, since she got to come to the front and center of it with three other girls.

 

 

Now, it's no secret that the author likes to put up a good front, but is conversant with the fact that he is actually among the softest of toffees, so by the time Kaipavaa was finished, I could barely see. I'm sorry the limited iPad video resolution prevents you from seeing what I saw; beautiful young faces, united in song, but distorted by an imaginary unrequited love into expressions of anguish like something more akin to a woodcut by Gustav Doré. The Finnish lyrics, when translated, don't carry the severity, the omnipresence of pain that these talented teen vocalists bring to the piece:

And without the moon or sun to shine, this world it is so dark,

With a fa la la and a fa la la, this world it is so dark.

And for the sake of one fine boy my heart is troubled and sad,

With a fa la la and a fa la la, my heart is troubled and sad.

You are fine like the grass on the meadow, I am lowly like the earth,

With a fa la la and a fa la la, I am lowly like the earth.

Oh, if you knew, my beloved, how much I miss you now!

For sure you would hasten back to me and not tarry on your way,

With a fa la la and a fa la la, and not tarry on your way.

 

At the concert's end, I hugged Fenya tightly, cursed her for once again unmanning me in a public venue, and reminded her how proud she makes us, not just in her performances, but in everything she brings her considerable passion and talents to,

 

It is the heart - powerful, brittle, vulnerable, invincible - that makes such accomplishments possible, and Heather is right to push the choir to the point where others can see it as easily as those close to them can. If it doesn't pay off for the competition judges, I have every confidence that the efforts they have put in thus far will stand them in good stead elsewhere.

 

Everywhere.

 

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Edmjønton and Valhalgary: Tyr in Concert(s)

This past weekend I had the opportunity to see Tyr, one of my favourite bands, not once, but twice.

 

Saturday night, Mike T. And Pete and I made our way to The Union Hall (formerlyThunderdome, and in times of yore, Goose Loonie's) for the 'Halo of Blood' tour, headlined by Finland's premier 'melodious death-metal' act, Children of Bodom. When I had purchased the tickets back in December, I knew my guys from the Faroes were only an opening act, but since the bill read Children of Bodom, Tyr and Special Guest, my presumption was that Tyr would have the second longest set, but, alas, this was not to be.

 

After an interminable wait outside in the minus 20 degree weather, we finally got in through the rear entrance, checked our coats and staked out a good position on the upper level, prior to browsing the merch table and securing some lagers, which, sadly, could only be purchased in cans and not horns.

 

Tyr was the first act onstage, a downtempo synth arrangement of the title track to Valkyrja playing while their touring drummer got into position (founding member Kari Stremoy had to leave last year, having never fully recovered from an auto accident in 2008), and then the three guitarists strode onstage and banged out their signature single, "Hold Your Heathen Hammer High". This was very well received by the decent sized crowd in this smallish venue, especially in the surging mosh pit right in front of the stage.

 

Lead singer and songwriter Heri Joensen is a personable frontman who seemed genuinely gratified by the crowd's response, as well as the frankly startling number of Tyr t-shirts visible in the audience. After playing "Blood of Heroes" and "Mare of My Night" from the new album, he apologized for not having as much time as they'd like, since they needed to make way for Death Angel and Children of Bodom, then launched into "Lady of the Slain" before wrapping up with "Shadow of the Swastika", their brilliant dual rebuttal to liberal guilt and racist idiots.

 

From the upper floor of UH, and situated close to the side of the stage, we had a great view of lead guitarist Terji Skibanæs as he fretted his way through the frantic fingerwork that is the hallmark of modern metal. Bassist Gunnar H. Thomsen had a positively gleeful look on his face as he made eye contact with the diehards right in front of the stage. While the sound mix could probably have been better, my only real complaint is that I only got to hear a mere 5 songs from the band I came to see. Still better than nothing, and five more live songs than I had seen up to that point, so I was still pleased on the whole.

 

Concord California's Death Angel was up next, and I have to say, while his vocal style is a little more screamy than I would like, lead singer and frontman Mark Osegueda comes across as one articulate and sincere individual. His fan-service did not involve any disparaging references to Calgary or an endorsement of 'local' beers 'like Labatt's', but on Edmonton being a source of great memories from the band's early days, and having a vibrant underground and vinyl collecting scene even back in the day. It's also gratifying to see some diversity on the metal stage, to break up the seemingly endless wall of white faces.

 

The music itself was classic thrash metal played with speed, reckless abandon and a complete disregard for aural safety, so us oldsters decided discretion was the better part of valour in this instance, and discreetly applied the earplugs I had brought. By the time Death Angel got to their most recent single, "The Dream Calls for Blood", the mosh pit was at a fever pitch, with some of burliest lads having removed their shirts to better facilitate shoving anyone within reach with maximum force.

 

That's not to say it was unfriendly; whenever anyone lost their footing, there was always someone on hand to help them up, dust them off, and then, usually, shove them again in another direction. The bravest were those trying to keep their beers from being spilled as they held them above the teeming mass, lowering them only to sip.

 

T-shirts notwithstanding, the majority of the crowd had clearly come to see Children Of Bodom, with occasional chants of "BO-DOM, BO-DOM, BO-DOM!" punctuating the crowd noise at fairly regular intervals before and between sets. By the time they got onstage, there was a full size Finnish flag and a hockey jersey on display, in addition to t-shirts old and new. They were the only band featuring a keyboard, which I tend to really appreciate in heavy music (Rammstein, Sonata Arctica), but overall, I have to say melodeath just isn't my thing.

 

I'm not much of a judge of musicianship, since I can't play anything myself, but even as a layman I could appreciate the speed and technicality of their guitar work, and the syncopation of their power chords that turned the entire band into a most impressive percussion unit. Children of Bodom know their business, but I am clearly not their customer; just as clearly, there are many who are, and they left Union Hall happy. We departed before the end of their set in order to avoid the inevitable coat check mob, and to get at least some merger amount of shut-eye prior to arising at 4:00 am to go and watch the gold medal hockey game.

 

After a wonderful and victorious time at Jeff and Heather's, followed by a refreshing nap at our house, Glory and I hit the road to go see the same show again at an all-ages venue in Calgary, the Macewan Ballroom. We had a great trip down, listening to a fantastic power metal compilation called Louder Than The Dragon, and then having dinner at the legendary Peter's Drive-In.

 

Glory was kitted out in the hoodie and hammer pendant I had purchased the night before, since there had been a lull at that able in Edmonton, and I was unsure just how chaotic it might be in Calgary, having never been to the venue. She took care not get any grease or barbecue sauce on her new sweatshirt as we ate in the Flex. I gently corrected the form of her metal salute, suggesting she put her thumb over the middle two fingers, and she nodded emphatically. "Right, right," she said agreeably, "thumb out is Spider-Man."

 

A short drive later and we were parked at the Olympic Oval at the University of Calgary, which was at least connected to the MacEwan Ballroom.

 

I have no gift for estimating numbers, but I would hazard a guess that the crowd at the U of C campus was easily triple whatever was at the Union Hall the previous night, and the line-up to get in was far more sizeable, but at least this one was indoors. I'm sure it was funny to watch the middle aged guy and the tweenager get frisked on the way in, but the security staff were courteous and professional, and no one made any wry observations at our expense. Best of all, when we checked our coats, we found that the earplugs that had been sold for $2 in Edmonton were free here, which was decidedly convenient, since Glory had forgotten hers in the car at the other end of the immense building we were in.

 

Inside it played much the same: Tyr's set was great, but too short, and Glory was extremely happy that they played her favourite song first.

 

Death Angel's Mark Osegueda was just as eloquent in his praise for Calgary, saying it's been important to them since 1987, so "if you don't know how Death Angel feels about Calgary, you've never been to a Death Angel show. And that's not a problem! Welcome! You are going to see a bunch of musicians doing what they love up here, and all we ask is that you listen with open ears, an open mind, and an open heart." Great stuff. And then a little later on, he got the crowd riled up by screaming, "I SAID I WANT TO SEE YOU MOVE, YOU GOLD MEDAL-WINNING MOTHERF*****S!!" which might have been pandering, but also felt really, really gratifying.

 

The stage was a little bigger than at the Union Hall, so Children of Bodom could space their stuff out a little more, and give a little more free reign to their light rigs. Unfortunately, the various types of smoke drifting in from outside and onstage were a little too much for Glory's asthma, so after a break and a brief return, we decided to call it a night.

 

We grabbed a Big Gulp and some pretzel bits at 7-Eleven for the trip home, through temperatures that made us grateful for the heated seats. We talked about the concert, and the people and things we saw, and going to see Sonata Arctica in September with the whole family, and how I was grateful for the opportunity to help her demystify what a heavy metal show looks and feels like. Thanks to bypassing the customary Red Deer pit stop, we were in our garage 2 hours and 46 minutes after getting on the Deerfoot. Glory wanted to go to sleep when we passed Leduc but managed to stay awake until getting into bed just before 2:00 A.M, a wonderful end to a long but glorious day.

 

 

T-shirt Sidebar: Fenya had heard the tale before, but had also been listening when I told Glory about the figure of Tyr on the back of her sweatshirt; about how Tyr was the Norse god of war and justice, and how he agreed to place his hand in the mouth of the great hellwolf Fenris as a hostage to his safety and freedom. And how after the other gods had chained the beast, Tyr had allowed Fenris to bite off his hand, because he had given his word, and how much credibility he gained from that sacrifice.

 

Later that afternoon, while Glory and I were driving to Cowtown, Fenya went to the IMAX Theater with our minister and his husband to see Jerusalem. When they asked Fenya about where Glory and I were going she said, "To a metal show in Calgary."

 

"That's right," Glen said, "I saw the t-shirt. Hey, why does the guy in the picture have only one hand?"

 

Fenya was perplexed. "Because he's Tyr."

 

Blankish looks.

 

"You know, the Norse god?"

 

A quizzical glance between the two of them.

 

"The one the band is named after? Geez, come on, guys!"

 

That made James laugh: "You are just like a teenage girl version of your father! Any other girl your age would be all, 'omigawd you guys, Katy Perry is just, like, the best,' but not Fenya; she is just 'you guys, Tyr is totally a Norse god'!"

Fenya just laughed in return; "Yep, that's me."

 

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TCB w/ RB (of BTO)

Some sounds, ubiquitous sounds, can have the effect of ingratiating their way into your life without your evening being cognizant of it. You replace a furnace, and perhaps the new fan doesn't make that distinctive click every few cycles that reminded you it was still working and keeping your house safe. At the start of the school year, your classmates sing the national anthem in a subtly different key. These pervasive sounds become the soundtrack of our life and times unconsciously, sometimes only distinguishing themselves by their absence. Sometimes it is even that way with music, wherein the active mind says "I've heard that song before, a hundred times in my youth; find something fresher," and we often listen, sometimes to our detriment.

Good friends of ours bought us tickets to Randy Bachman's show tonight in Edmonton, and at first, I was a little apprehensive. I mean, sure, I appreciate The Guess Who; I'm Canadian after all. And who doesn't like to hear "Takin' Care of Business" once in a while? But the idea of sitting through a Randy Bachman concert only intrigued me, it didn't excite me.

Now, I've never listened to his CBC radio show, Randy's Vinyl Tap, and that is clearly going to have to change, because on the show, he plays music from his own collection, and tells stories about how and when they were made, and about the people who made them, and this tour is all about him telling the stories behind his own music, a half century of unapologetic rock and roll originating in Winnipeg and winding its way across North America and the globe.

Bachman is a fantastic and humorous storyteller, a gifted raconteur who has lived the fascinating and challenging life of a professional musician since he dropped out of high school to pursue his dream. Ignoring his father's advice to have something to fall back on for fear that he would fall back on it instead of moving forward, he talks frankly about the kind of confidence and courage I could never see myself possessing.

Each anecdote would end with a (sometimes shortened) rendition of one of the songs from his tremendous repertoire: These Eyes, She's Come Undone, American Woman, Let It Roll, You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet (recently voted Best Stuttering Song by the Stuttering Foundation of America,) et cetera. Learning that the "killing floor" mentioned in No Time Left For You is a reference to Vietnam that he overheard a serviceman tell his hippie friend in San Francisco, or how many songs he made no money from because they were just too close to something by another artist (like the Doobie Brothers) was eye opening and always related in an entertaining and self deprecating manner.

I had no idea, for instance, that while Bachman was playing with his Winnipeg High School band, Chad Allan & The Expressions, they sent a tape with their cover of Shakin' All Over to a record company. The company surreptitiously promoted it as a bootleg recording of semi-famous British musicians signed to various labels, under the cheekily mysterious name "Guess Who", which is how that band's name came to be.

The most interesting story to me was about a time in the '60s when filling up their bus just south of the border on their way to a gig in Texas, the station manager determined they would be playing in the Selective Service building. He kindly explained that their 'green cards', formally known as Resident Alien cards, not only entitled them to work and reside in the U.S., but also made them eligible for the draft and service in Vietnam, where his son had been killed. He advised them not to turn around, but suggested they turn left, drive down the road and cross the border back into Canada somewhere else, and not to come back until the war was over.

And they never did.

I had a much better time at The Vinyl Tap Tour than I expected to, and while the music was great, the stories and insights from a true CanadianRock veteran were even better. The talk to music ratio was about 2:1, which felt just about right. I hope they put it on DVD, because I would love for the girls to see it, both for the music I grew up with, and the times and people that produced it. The next time I hear BTO or The Guess Who on the radio, I hope they are in the car so I have a good reason to turn it up.

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Muse Concert: 2nd Lawful Good

Playing the 'what do you think they will open with?' game before a concert is always a lot of fun. Will it be an old favourite, or something from the new album? Will it be slow and dramatic, or heavy and bombastic? At last night's Muse concert, the answer to the first question was something new, and the answer to the second was 'yes'.

I had said that if they led off with a track from the 2nd Law, their latest album, then the lead single ("Madness") was too slow, so my hope would be for either the brilliantly Bond-like "Supremacy" or the cinematic/dubstep instrumental "The 2nd Law: Unsustainable". These turned out to be the first two songs played, only in reverse order. "Unsustainable" was a great choice, as it opens with a simple yet urgent guitar rhythm, punctuated by ominous fanfares, while a female newsreader's voice intones a litany of entropy, climaxing with the assertion that 'an economy based on endless growth is UNSUSTAINABLE', the last word being usurped by a Cylonish vocoder, and that's when you get The Drop.

Muse has a reputation for both dynamic live shows and creative and imaginative staging, and this tour did not disappoint on either count. A circular bank of video monitors wrapped around the stage behind the band at their feet, while another ran underneath the stage at floor level. The real visual treat came during the third song, "Supermassive Black Hole", when an inverted pyramid of monitors and lights descended from the ceiling, and I half expected Roy Neary to climb out of it.

There were fewer lasers this time than the 2010 concert, but if anything, this staging was even more creative and engaging. As the song "Animals" played, the banner monitor displayed a stock ticker while the pyramid played scenes portraying the rise and fall of a greedy or careless broker. Near the end of the concert, the circular bank turned into a roulette wheel displaying two songs from the back catalogue. Sure enough,when the 'ball' had dropped into "Stockholm Syndrome", the band obligingly tore into it like a kid opening a birthday present. A very playful way to end the pre-encore set, even if it made me sad knowing I wouldn't be hearing "New Born", which had opened the last tour. The only other disappointment for me was not getting to hear "Hysteria" live, as it has one of the all-time greatest bass lines in rock. Still, I did get to hear one of my favourites from "Black Holes and Revelations", the album that introduced me to Muse, when they played "Map of the Problematique".

Even though some of the people I attended with were there as fans of spectacle more so than of the band itself, we all agreed it was truly an epic show. Even the opening act, Britain's Band of Skulls, made a good impression on most of us. I'm surprised and a bit saddened that the show wasn't sold out, especially as Muse recently sold out three nights at the Staples Centre in Los Angeles. Sandra Sperounes of the Edmonton Journal estimated the crowd at a mere 7,000; surely the Superbowl couldn't account for that, could it? Thankfully,what crowd there was more than made up for its size with a vocal appreciation for the band.
The whole darned family came with the lads and I last night (and Rev. James, the biggest Muse fan I know), and Fenya and Glory both had a great time at their first real rock concert. Glory even splurged so she could get her first concert tour t-shirt, while the more practically-minded Fenya picked up a very sharp looking water bottle. We all went to great lengths afterwards to explain that not all rock shows will be like this, and they should probably set the bar significantly lower for the next concert they attend.
I am insatiably curious as to where Muse will progress musically next; as Pete said last night, "The 2nd Law" appears to have at least a half-dozen iterations of the same band: rock, funk, dubstep, balladeers, Bond, and so on. They already sound distinct from the band that recorded "Black Holes and Revelations" only two albums ago, despite having been together for almost two decades now. As long as their live shows continue to be this energetic and entertaining though, I will not be missing any.

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