It rained quite a lot on Saturday 15th, here in Montréal, but not as heavily and consistently as the day before. In fact I spent most of my day under cover, in one way or another, so wasn't sure what happened with the weather for the best part of the day.
You were undercover? What's this, something you haven't been telling us about? Did you fill in one of those full-page newspaper adverts to join MI5. Always thought that was a bit strange that... apply now for a job in the British security service. I suppose they have to these days, there just aren't the people in trilby hats and trench-coats queuing up at the job centre, or femme fatales for that matter. No, you don't see many femmes fatales looking for jobs these days...
Excuse me! If you were paying more attention you would have noticed that I said “under cover”, not “undercover.”
Ah. What a difference a space makes! ... twenty four little hours, now there are flowers, where once there was … oops sorry, that just reminded me of a song. It was on an album by Ben E. King, though I don't think it was his song really. We used to sing along with that didn't we?
Good grief! I sometimes wonder where these random thoughts come from! Anyway, undercover because I spent some time in the hotel, and was devastated to find that the wi-fi network wasn't operating.
Devastated! Devastated because the wi-fi wasn't working! What a commentary on the state of affairs when a 66 year old man is devastated by a lack of wi-fi connection.
Well it was one reason why there was such a hold-up in the delivery of blog postings, as I spent so much time sorting it out. Well, actually I didn't sort it out, so decided to head for Complexe Desjardins, where they have a free wi-fi network and food. Oh yes it's also undercover, sections of it being part of Montréal's underground city. On the way I thought I would have brunch at Eggspectations, thinking that they might also have wi-fi. It was very pleasant – Eggs Benedictine Classique with Hollandaise sauce, and a selection of fruit. They didn't have wi-fi, so having finished my poached eggs and drained the last drop of a fabulous glass of freshly squeezed pink grapefruit juice I made my way into the Complexe Desjardins. I was there for quite a while, had a video chat with my great nephew James, back home in England, and then embarked on another mammoth audio-conference with “Les Filles de la Russie”. There was no singing this time, as we, well I was in a public place and didn't want to be arrested for causing a disturbance.
After that I walked back to the hotel through the amazing complex of buildings housing art galleries and concert halls. The walk is underground,with some sections illuminated by art installations and futuristic windows (it seems a bit petty calling them windows). You emerge near the Place des Arts metro station, among buildings housing UQAM – the University of Québec at Montréal.
Do you remember when you invented a new university?
I beg your pardon?
I said, do you remember when you invented a new university? You know, the University of Roker in the North East, abbreviated to URINE, so you could use it in a play on words. It was in an official document wasn't it?
No it wasn't. It was in a thing I did when I was made redundant from my job, to invite colleagues to a little farewell do I had with my colleagues. I was just taking the p.........
Ah yes, that's right.
I had arranged to meet Johanne at Benelux at 5.30, so that we could have something to eat before finding our way to the Corona Theatre on rue Notre-Dame. I received a notification from her to say that she was there a little bit early, so I arrived within five or six minutes. She had made arrangements to meet up with an old friend that she hadn't see for over twenty years, and who happened to be in Montréal on a job. She told me that he is a musician and had a wonderful laugh. A powerful combination in my book! It wasn't long before Réjean joined us, and we passed a wonderful 90 minutes. It was time for Johanne to share with him really, but they kept drawing me into the conversation, so it wasn't long before the conversation got round to Luce Dufault. It's just that people ask me why I'm here, and when I tell them it's for the music, they always push me further. So they get the story about Luce. Réjean told me that he had worked with her several times, and made it clear what he thought of her – that she was very special. That feeling seems to be fairly unanimous. Réjean is Réjean Julien, the guitarist in the group PHONETHEMENTAL, which is a bit of a play on words, as he explained. You can see the literal meaning, but when you say the word, it easily converts into Fundamental. Clever, eh?
Here is the band's website. www.phonethemental.com When you get to the videos, Réjean is shown with long hair. Now it is quite short. And Johanne was right about the laugh! The conversation had moved on a few minutes when I noticed that I had a new message … from......Luce. She had seen from FaceBook that we were in Benelux, and asked us to drink a few to her!
Johanne and I had a snack/meal and then saw that it was well after seven o' clock. Réjean left in search of sushi, and we went to pay our bills. As I stood at the till, I glanced along the bar and saw that the young lady who had been serving us was holding up a glass of dark liquid, as though she was drinking a toast to me.
Come on, now you're imagining things!
Well I was wrong...
Told you!
She was actually offering me the glass of beer .. free. She brought it across and handed it to me. The first sniff told me that this was powerful stuff. In response to my somewhat stunned “C'est quoi?” She told me it was “La Complice”. Ah, ...... the barley wine at 10%. A fairly large glass of La Complice... at 10%.... as we were leaving....what to do? You can share it, she said. Well possibly, but Johanne took one sip and that option was removed. It would have been churlish to have refused the offering, but it would have been foolhardy to have sunk it in one. I drank about three quarters of the glass, but could feel the effect immediately, so, crime of crimes, I had to leave a glass unfinished, feeling really guilty about it. Must apologize at the next opportunity.
I am sure the opportunity will arise!
We walked to the Metro station and caught the next one to Lionel-Geroulx, from where it was a short walk to Theatre Corona, on rue Notre-Dame.
You had already mentioned that.
Yes, I know, but I was going to make the point about the streets in Montréal - how amazingly long they are. For example I could have walked from my hotel to rue Notre-Dame in ten minutes, turned right and walked to the theatre. But it would have taken a long, long time, probably an hour or more.
So we were at the Theatre Corona to see a young Australian singer/composer/guitarist by the name of Kim Churchill. It was the first time for me, but Johanne had actually been present when he recorded his latest album: Montreal Attic Recordings. The theatre had clearly see better days. It had originally been a classic theatre, with stalls, balconies and boxes, but now the seats had been stripped out from the stalls and a bar built at the rear of the same area, just inside the main doors. A lot of the original plaster work and gilded carved wood remains, having been painted a somewhat grungy ochre colour. But we weren't there for the architecture. First on was a young lady from New Brunswick, Babette Hayward, who is just breaking into the music scene here. She writes her own songs and accompanies herself on guitar.
Here is her first music video, Break Line:
It was an excellent performance, marred to some degree by the amount of conversation going on in the theatre. I can never quite understand why people go to concerts, having bought tickets and then talk their way through the whole proceedings. Back to Babette – I think a lot more will be heard of this young lady.
And what about the word 'babette'? Hadn't you used that incorrectly in an earlier posting?
Ah yes, it appears that when describing a item of underclothing, I had described them as 'babettes', It should have been “bobettes”
So then it was on to Kim Churchill. A sun-bronzed, handsome young surfing Aussie who composes songs and plays guitar and harmonica. Don't you just hate him already? We still stuffed you in the Ashes Kim! Maybe that's why you ran away to Canada! Ha!! Seriously though, this was a high energy performance of songs with powerful lyrics. (It makes a change being able to understand the lyrics in live performances here.)
Playing solo, he accompanied himself on guitar, harmonica, base-drum and a electronic set up which allowed for sampling, looping and echoing. Quite the modern one-man band! After the show we bought albums and then walked back to the Metro Station through the wind and rain. Johanne set off on the orange line heading towards Montmorency, and I jumped on board the green line train heading back to Place des Arts.
No comments:
Post a Comment