Showing posts with label fleck theatre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fleck theatre. Show all posts

Monday, October 25, 2010

IFOA 2010: John Waters

John Waters

International Festival of Authors (Fleck Dance Theatre). Friday, October 22, 2010.

A reliable (if pricey) annual autumn celebration of all things literary, the International Festival of Authors gives cause to head down to Harbourfront after outdoor concert season ends. I figured it would be a good start to a Friday night to spend some time with John Waters. Heading down to the Fleck Dance Theatre — which I've been to for a concert and a couple IFOA things, but never for dance — there were a decent number of keeners out waiting in line before the doors opened. Looking over the crowd, there were a handful who clearly looked like superfans but otherwise a pretty mixed bunch, 30's to 60's, that didn't fall into any overt niche. Some punk hairdos were apparent, and looking around it appeared this was widely thought to be a good place for guys to take their beaus out on a date.1

For a crowd that was, presumably, united in some sort of affinity for things outside the mainstream, the bland smooth jazz playing over the PA before the show wasn't a good fit. The theatre is a pretty big space, seating about 450. There was a good crowd for this one, though I don't think there was anyone seated in the balcony.

For the first part of the night, Waters — dressed in a dapper black-flowered suit — read from his book Role Models. The book is a memoir, albeit one constructed in an unconventional way. Not directly an account of Waters' life, it's instead a collection of character sketches of people who have been important to him. The notion of how our characters are shaped by the people who influenced us was a central thread throughout the evening, as was hinted at in the first reading from the chapter on Tennessee Williams — in subtle ways, it's just as much about Waters as the playwright he never met. After stealing a "forbidden" Williams book from the Baltimore library, Waters learned, "I didn't have to listen to the lies the teachers told us about society's rules." And that one can be an individual even in an outsider subculture: "Tennessee Williams wasn't a gay cliché, so I had the confidence to try to not be one myself."

Waters also read from the satirical "Cult Leader", where he outlined his plans to build an "army of filth" before being interviewed by Richard Crouse. The conversation began with the usuals about the process of creating the book and the pair talked about some of the people in it, like "outsider pornographers" David Hurles and Bobby Garcia. The discussion ranged from fashion to politics and religion to hippies and punks, all served with Waters' wit. Less flippant was the discussion of Leslie Van Houten, the former member of Manson family fighting for parole — a cause that Waters has publicly celebrated, engaging in an real investigation of redemption and how people can change. He also talked about some of the changes in his own thinking, such as feeling regret now for, say, having used the Manson murders as comedic fodder as "boogieman against straight people" — something he now sees as youthfully irresponsible and insensitive to the victims' families.

There were a few questions from the audience before the night ended with the traditional retirement to the author signing — that part isn't really my thing. Overall, a fun time.

A key part of John Waters' career has become the selling the brand of being himself — his presence is perhaps most marketable "work". Given that his main vehicle for this has been his one-man show This Filthy World, it was interesting to see the differences in approach in this more highbrow sort of event. I think the tone of the conversation was a bit more introspective and probing than when I saw This Filthy World, but without losing Waters' irrepressible verve.

Listen to Waters speak here.


1 A good way to give the impression, "I'm literate, but still a little freaky".

Thursday, July 2, 2009

Gig: Mose Allison

Mose Allison

Fleck Dance Theatre, Harbourfront Centre. Tuesday, June 30, 2009.

Mose Allison is an American piano player, singer and songwriter whose work straddles the line between jazz and blues. Allison has a light touch on the keys and a soft, unforced vocal style that's like a spoonful of sugar to go with oft-barbed, clever lyrics. For the rock'n'roll crowd, the usual touchstones include a big list of covers — perhaps best and most famous is The Who's rip through "Young Man Blues" on the Live at Leeds album.1 This one was a bit of a last-minute pick for me. Despite all the time I spend pouring over concert listing and so on, the fact that Mose Allison was coming to town escaped my notice until less than a week before the event, and when I saw the listing, I felt a gut feeling that this was one to go to. As with a lot of legendary figures, I did have a bit of a sense of, "how many more chances will I get?".

Jazz gigs are a nice antidote to those indie shows where I feel like the oldest guy in the room. Besides a chance to see musicians with some seniority, the demographics of the crowd are pretty radically different than what I'm used to. As we stood in a queue waiting for the doors to open, looking around for anyone younger than me, I wondered to myself what percentage of the patrons could be divided into two camps: a) middle-aged couples agreeing with each other that CBC2 was better before they changed it and b) Seymour from Ghost World. While we stood there, the elevator door opened and Mose shuffled out, casually dressed with floppy hat and all, like any other old guy out throwing bread to the ducks at Harbourfront, looking for the door so he could get into his gig.

Once they let us in, I scored a seat fourth row centre and settled into the cozy space of the Fleck Theatre — a fancy room, but not in my regular rotation of venues. Nice sightlines, nice sound, though it comes with all of the Serious Show baggage — I saw an usher nearly tackle someone who dared to (gasp!) bring in a bottle of water. I suppose in the end I do appreciate a comfy seat, a clear view, very little chit-chat and no hordes of people texting during the show, although like anything taken to extremes it gets a bit much.2

All that aside, the show itself was pretty good. Allison (at showtime still casually dressed in slacks and sneakers) is still a working songwriter and didn't rely on his incredible catalog of songs from the '50's and '60's. Looking around, his late-career work seems to have been summed up by a pair of live releases from 2001 and the setlist at this show worked in similar territory, drawing from his '80's and '90's work like "Ever Since I Stole the Blues", "Certified Senior Citizen" and "Ever Since the World Ended". There were also some covers showing his superb interpretive ability, such as a slow, minor key version of Jimmie Davis' "You Are My Sunshine" and "Meet Me at No Special Place", a hit for Nat Cole's trio.3 No "Seventh Son" or "Parchman Farm", but that's kinda okay, too — I'd rather see an artist follow his muse rather than just trot out the hits.

Calling out the songs by number ("Number thirty-two, from the top!"), the piano was well-supported by his drummer (who looked like a retired school principal of Mose's vintage) and bassist (a couple decades younger) who kept the undercarriage percolating but knew when to push a little.4 Allison always had a laid-back style of playing, so age hasn't impacted his tempos as all — and he had no problem doubling up to a locomotive-like shuffle when required. His voice is only a titch less clear than when in his prime, but still full of subtle inflections.

This was a classy show and a good time. With no opener and a seventy-five minute set, including encores, it felt expensive by my standards — but some indulgences are worth it.

I have no media for this one, so I'll relent from my usual standard and pass along a couple YouTube clips from 2007 (here and here) that get across the feel of it. Usual caveats about lousy YouTube quality apply.


1 And, for any audience under forty, it's also always trotted out that "Allison" by The Pixies was written in tribute to Mose, but this probably says more about Frank Black's name-dropping tendencies and scales of perceived cool than anything about his music.

2 I didn't challenge the "no photography" rule and didn't have the presence of mind to grab my camera from my bag when he walked right past us waiting outside the theatre, sigh.

3 Also in the setlist: "This Ain't Me", "What's Your Movie", "Molecular Structure" and a cover of "Baby Please Don't Go".

4 Poking around after the fact, it would appear that the bassist was a local pick-up by the name of Neil Swainson, and the drummer was John Sumner. Colorblind Brian makes the astute observation that "apparently [Mose] doesn't like to be hearing a back-beat, and sure enough the drummer kept his brushes going and shuffled us along," something that I had also noticed while musing on the fact that the drum kit appeared to be mic'ed only with two overhead microphones, and none on the bass drum.