We’ve been following The Great Canadian Baking Show, my love and sugar baking peeps and I. Tonight is the Grand Finale. Who will win Canada’s Best Baker? I’ll be back tomorrow in this space with my final thoughts on this first season. First up, a sampling from some very keen Toronto bakers who know a thing or two around the sugar headquarters! Read More
We sing more in December. The light disappears and we sing to infuse the dark with magic. In the car, spontaneous karaoke erupts frequently and I’m humming at every turn. It’s in my bones. I come by it naturally so I seek out places where singing is celebrated. Earlier this month, I found it in the voices of the youth programme at Wavestage Theatre. Clearly, these kids don’t limit their singing to December.
I felt instant kinship, as I too connected to drama and performance at their age. If there was a show at camp or school, I was all over it. Yet, compared to these gorgeous talents, I was a geek at their age. These kids are far more savvy and professional about their commitment to the work. They wowed me. How did they arrive here? A wise teacher, that’s how.
My sister Sarah has been singing too all her life. My own television career might never have happened without Sarah’s prompts at the back of our summer camp rehearsal hall. I CAN”T HEAR YOU! She taught me to “throw”my voice, to lend it inflection, nuance, and give character to all my solos and speaking lines. A former opera singer, Sarah has run an outstanding theatre and performing arts school for decades, in addition to directing and producing several shows a year with her company, Wavestage Theatre. She has taught in Newmarket and Aurora, and new this year, due to demand, Sarah is also accepting students here in Toronto. Some come for help with Royal Conservatory exams and university prep; most are keen for the opportunity to be directed on stage by a passionate performer who has turned directing into a true vocation.
I asked some of her youth performers what they have learned from Sarah: most told me showbiz tricks like opening your mouth wider for better enunciation, but all of them had picked up something far more profound about being involved in special seasonal productions like a black box production of A Christmas Carol. Here’s a sample of what I discovered when I met a few of them backstage:
For singing and performing lessons, contact Sarah at keepsinging.com and sarahlangfordstudios.com
While the Wavestage production was a one-night special, you can catch their upcoming show Big Fish in January. For all you Dickens nerds (you are my peeps, I bless you all), check out the Soulpepper production as it’s one of the best I’ve seen, and of course, the new movie, The Man who Invented Christmas, starring none other than Downton Abbey’s Dan Stevens. Other reasons to celebrate this movie? The screenplay was written by Canadian actress/writer Susan Coyne.
As for me, if you pass me on the road, I’ll be bopping to Queen Aretha. Kind of like Bieber does here.
Subscribers have the password for this (and the crazy night of the show kick-off!) Want to be part of the hoopla? Subscribe to my monthly buzz sheet. It’s an easy click to join the fun.
Hats off to the film programmers. You did another stellar job bringing the world to our screens. Kudos for killer curating! And all the volunteers. You make me happy every year. I love seeing fellow movie freaks in those orange shirts, doing their best to shepherd the line-ups.
Still, TIFF lost some lustre this year. In my final TIFF 2017 post, here is the messier side of the festival. My beefs are few:
When a director comes out on stage and apologies to his audience for what they are about to see, the audience should just get up and leave. Apologizing is patronizing. TIFF audiences have seen plenty of provocative work over the decades. Fainting is for the fawning mobs pressing for selfies outside. There are some movies you never want to watch again but are still glad you saw once (Silence of the Lambs, Schindler’s List, First There Will Be Blood). Mother! the latest from shock darling Darren Aronofsky, isn’t one of them. It’s just bad torture porn. Did this film need a big splashy gala ticket? Jennifer Lawrence, Aronofsky’s romantic partner and star of this insanity, should have run away too.
What’s with the plethora of priority seats? Perhaps Aaron Sorkin papered the audience for his directorial debut, Molly’s Game (indulgent, way way too talky..and I’m a Sorkin fan). But when almost every seat in the first floor of the theatre is reserved, one wonders if TIFF still deserves to be called The People’s Festival.
Delays were the worst I’ve ever experienced; line-up chatter echoed my frustration. A delay in the screening means a carefully curated schedule becomes a wash. Missed endings? Check. Missed Q&A’s? Check. Standing in line is expected. Standing in line outside on the pavement as you watch the start time of a movie come and go, and nobody’s in the theatre yet is a good way to lose your core audience.
I have resigned myself to ads but why not preface each TIFF screening with a film short*? Open it up to artists across the country? Run the ads instead at the end with the credits, with all those who helped make the film. That’s where sponsorship nods belong. I watched a makeup ad over three dozen times. “Real beauty is colourful” (all the models are wearing black). “Real beauty is unique” (all the models are impossibly thin, leggy, and longhaired). Sigh. I understand sponsorship. These things don’t get made on their own. That’s why I support the festival myself. Meanwhile, in the multiplexes year round, moviegoers have to sit through ridiculous and utterly mindless gimmicks to play on smartphones to pass the time before the film begins. And distributors and executives wonder why nobody is going to the movies anymore…
Rant over. Go watch a movie and support filmmakers. This is your season.
I saw this young talented actor on stage earlier this summer in a gorgeous production of Me and My Girl at the Shaw Festival and now grieve his passing. Read theatre critic J. Kelly Nestruck’s beautiful obit of Jonah McIntosh
So worth it: (and only one hour long!) Before Jerry was Seinfeld. Streaming now on Netflix.
Missed TIFF? *Try the Toronto Shorts International Film Festival happening this weekend at the Art Gallery of Ontario.
Get excited for Alias Grace. The six episode miniseries adaptation of Margaret Atwood’s novel (yes, another one!) will air in Canada on CBC this coming Tuesday and will stream November 3rd on Netflix.
Simple yet brilliant answer to all this happiness talk:
GUEST BLOG: As we continue our look at hobbies that become passions: singing in the shower is fine enough…for some.
TIFF has just announced some of their 2017 lineup so get excited. Still, there’s enough decent fare before then in commercial theatres to tide this fangirl over until then. Here’s my midsummer list of a surprisingly satisfying summer movie season.
What happens when you grow up with the Bogeyman narrative playing out large in the culture around you? Literary darling Emma Cline grew up in California where the Manson drama was the defining event in the zeitgeist of her parent’s adolescence. The story of the charismatic sociopath was too familiar to her as a novel protagonist so she decided to focus on the peripheral players in the story, and conjured up a character who might have been on the sidelines of a dangerous cult. This became the starting point for her critically acclaimed debut, The Girls, which kept me enthralled on my sickbed this week. Read More
April is National Poetry Month.
We almost missed it, didn’t we? There are so many distractions in this fine city. Last night I was at Hot Docs 2017, with Last Men in Aleppo. There are two more screenings of this. Highly recommended. I cannot think of anything else this morning.
Thank goodness for Henry, a clever boy I love, who gave me one of my most favourite gifts ever last year: a collection of his own poetry.
Meet the under ten set’s new poet laureate.
Hooray for Henry, you’re our Friday inspiration.
For more on poetry…
from a year ago:
from two years ago:
from three years ago:
from four years ago:
from five years ago:
“hanging out with the hipsters is hard work
how many selfies can you take without looking like a jerk?”
-Sheryl Crow, Be Myself
- Sheryl Crow has released her ninth studio album, Be Myself. Nine seems a good number for Crow who has nine Grammies to match. After a recent foray into the country music arena, Crow’s latest is a fierce flourish of rock-pop born of a wish to revisit the sound and feeling of her earlier records. Still, the record hardly ignores the current landscape as the musician felt a sense of “real urgency” following Trump’s election. Match that with a recent bout of breast cancer, motherhood, and the launch of a new clothing line, and you have a sage on your spring jam.
- Director Sofia Coppola is behind a new series of underwear ads. What do you think of this one? Cheeky old school vibe?
- Tap-dancing is one of those skills you can’t do without absolute commitment. See it nailed down in full glory this weekend with the most buoyant cast of spring in Wavestage’s latest production, Anything Goes.
- Toronto’s Soulpepper is bringing their most celebrated productions to New York for a month of programming this summer. I’ve seen most of these shows and loved them here and here. Read on about the hidden figures behind this initiative and others.
- Fun quiz: read this description and try to guess which famous Torontonian is featured in an essay in this week’s New Yorker:
She would look striking even if she were not familiar. She owns an array of brightly colored winter coats—jewel red, imperial purple—with faux-fur-trimmed hoods that frame her face, as do her abundant curls of silver hair. She has high cheekbones and an aquiline nose, the kind of features that age has a hard time withering. Her skin is clear and translucent, of the sort that writers of popular Victorian fiction associated with good moral character.
Read on here to see if you guessed right.
This spring chick is spring cleaning this weekend (sigh) between cheering (GO LEAFS GO!). Then again, I might just ditch and hang out in the best playhouse in my neighbourhood. Guess where? Then again, if I tell you, I might have to kill you.
Winter has been rich for readers and arts lovers. Lots to love, and some? Not so much. Read More