This year’s Toronto Jazz Festival played host to two legendary groups in two awe-inspiring and sold-out venues: The Dave Brubeck Quartet at Koerner Hall on Tuesday and The Keith Jarrett Trio with Gary Peacock and Jack DeJohnette at The Four Seasons Opera Centre on Wednesday. The Dave Brubeck Quartet gave a solid performance but one that has become somewhat less of a novelty since it was nearly identical to his concert last year and the year before. The Keith Jarrett Trio, on the other hand, gave a concert of sheer ingenuity and brilliance from start to finish, though I’d expect nothing less from this group of masters.

Dave Brubeck Quartet

On Tuesday, the current rendition of the Dave Brubeck Quartet, with Bobby Millitello on saxophone, Michael Moore on bass, and Randy Jones on drums, took the stage at Koerner Hall for one set of standards and one set of what Brubeck does best: his own pieces in odd time signatures. In the first set, they played, among others, “Gone with the Wind”, “Somewhere Over the Rainbow”, “On the Sunny Side of the Street”, and a medley of Duke Ellington Songs: “C Jam Blues”, “Mood Indigo” and “Take the A Train”. The interpretations were competent and fun to listen to, but this really isn’t where Brubeck shines and there are other pianists who have better renditions of these pieces. Nevertheless, it was nice to hear a few pieces that weren’t performed in the last couple of years.

But things got going in the second set, with Dave Brubeck’s son Matthew Brubeck on cello, as they dug into Brubeck’s trademark pieces, which are incredibly hard not to get lost in when counting is done by mere mortals. They played “Three to get ready, Four to go”, which has two bars in 3/4 time followed by two bars in 4/4 time, and then improvisation in a totally different time signature altogether and they kept time. When they played “Unsquare Dance”, a real earworm, in 7/4, they encouraged the audience to clap along with the drums: some people tried and many waited way too long to stop their out-of-time embarrassing clapping efforts. The group, however, had no trouble keeping time. “Blue Rondo a la Turk” was a wonderful foot-tapping experience, of which Brubeck said “this is one of the hardest pieces I’ve ever written for myself. I don’t know why I did that to myself. Every time I go to play it I’m always worried I won’t be able to. But Mathew is here to help me out”. They played a couple of pieces in 5/4, one that we didn’t all know, and one that we did (“Take Five”) and “The Sermon on the Mount” which is perfectly suited for having a cello in the ensemble.

When he takes a solo, Dave Brubeck does a lovely job, with great technique and jive. Mathew Brubeck also brings a beautiful edge to the pieces with his cello, adding an unexpected but perfectly agreeable layer of detail. But their bandmates can’t keep up, except in their ability to literally keep time. Michael Moore is a perfectly satisfactory bassist when he’s playing the bassline but he’s not Stanley Clarke or Charlie Haden or Gary Peacock so his solos aren’t that exciting. Randy Jones is your average run-of-the-mill jazz drummer, though he may have a slightly heightened awareness of time, and Bobby Millitello’s playing rubs me the wrong way: he croons too much without enough definition or character. But there’s something perfunctory about the way these folks trade off solos and play in a style from year’s past without the expected modernity of a solo. There’s little interplay between the group to keep the music charged and so while the individual parts, well the Brubeck parts anyway, are a joy to listen to, the rest falls a bit flat.

This year’s Brubeck concert, the fifth year running at the festival (and the third one I’ve been at), was perhaps the best executed concert. The quartet format, with the addition of the cello, is the right format for Brubeck to be playing at and Koerner Hall is a perfect venue for this group. The acoustics and the seating sure beat the hell out of the Nathan Phillips Square tent from last year, and the music itself was at a higher level.

Seeing Dave Brubeck in Toronto is an essential for every jazz fan. He is, after all, a jazz great for good reason, and no one else has replicated what he has done in weird time signatures. “Time Out” and “Time Further Out” sit satisfactorily in every serious jazz lover’s collection. But there are only so many pieces from each of these albums, and Brubeck seems to only like to play a few of those, albeit the better ones, so if you’ve seen it once, you’ve seen it all. Just make sure you go when it’s at an excellent venue.

Keith Jarrett Trio

The Keith Jarrett Trio, on the other hand, is a revelation every time they play. As a soloist, Keith Jarrett would easily sell out the Four Seasons Centre where his trio performed, but there’s an exciting additional dimension when he plays with the best jazz drummer, Jack DeJohnette, and the great bassist Gary Peacock. First of all, there isn’t a single low point to the concert: each moment can only be characterized as fantastic or more fantastic. I might even go so far as to say they reach perfection. In their extremely able hands, the music coruscates and they create an experience of immense beauty.

It is possible to listen to each of these magnificent players independently, focussing in on one in particular, and then rotating. But to do that would be to miss the richness of the texture they provide, the way in which they each carefully support one another yet find their own sound and complexity at the same time. When these masters improvise, they do it collaboratively without ever drowning out anything important. Keith Jarrett on piano, of course, leads the show, takes the melody and leads the improvisation. But listen to how Jack DeJohnette deviates from the norm, the subtle changes he makes, how he mimicks and supports what Jarrett does without copying him. And on bass, Peacock holds down the fort with a supportive but complex baseline that tends towards the melodic. The group played a variety of standards, including “My Funny Valentine”, “God Bless the Child”, and “Bye Bye Blackbird”. When they slow it down, it becomes so beautiful that it almost brought me to tears.

Keith Jarrett is probably the best jazz pianist alive right now and Jack DeJohnette is unquestionably the best living jazz drummer of any fame. So it’s no surprise that when they team up it’s dynamite. DeJohnette finds melody in his drumming and can actually make a beautiful line of the piano sound even more melodious rather than wrecking it with some banging. DeJohnette plays notes, not just rhythm. There is nothing run-of-the-mill about either of these two.

Halfway through the first set, Jarrett stopped in the middle of a piece because a note was out of tune on the piano. He asked the audience if “it sounds OK out there?”, and one clever-mouth chimed in “it sounds great, but our ears might not be as good as yours”. Jarrett proceeded to play the note in question repeatedly, commenting that it “sounded like ‘help!’” and that he owed Steinway a phone call to complain about their piano. He decided to go on but switched keys in order to evade the offensive sound.

At intermission, a brand new Steinway was rolled out on stage and fastidiously tuned: good thing they happened to have an extra Steinway Grand just lying around. This seemed to be to the satisfaction of Jarrett, who, after playing an even more amazing second set wowed the audience with not just one or two encores, but three encores. Thank goodness he liked the new piano and the hall. When he was here three years ago, we were treated to two fabulous encores because Jarrett liked the hall. And what’s not to like? The Four Seasons Opera House is a fantastic venue, a beautiful hall with outstanding acoustics: the perfect venue for these jazz masters. When I saw the trio three years ago, their last performance in Toronto, I wrote that it was the best concert I’d ever seen in my life. Well, I’d say their most recent concert on June 30th was exactly on par with the 2007 show: tied for the best concerts I’ve ever seen.

—————————————————————————————

Photo: Keith Jarrett performing at Carnegie Hall, September 26, 2005, Photo by Richard Termine, ECM Records

On Monday night, I squeezed into a horribly uncomfortable, plastic seat down at Nathan Phillips Square to enjoy what can only be described as a fabulous evening of jazz music, albeit with lame acoustics. The Dave Young Quartet opened the evening with local jazz piano virtuoso Robi Botos, Botos’s brother Frank on drums, Kevin Turcotte on trumpet, and band leader Dave Young on bass. The group played a solid set which included “Me and the Boys” by Coleman Hawkins, “Mean What You Say”, Cole Porter’s “Dream Dancing”, and a very beautiful Danish folksong. The band was at its best when Dave Young and Robi Botos took centre stage, either with the melody or their melodious solos. These two are very talented Canadian musicians, staples of the Toronto jazz scene and for good reason.

After intermission, the high energy Stanley Clarke Band featuring Hiromi took the stage by storm with Clarke on electric and acoustic bass, Hiromi on a Yamaha grand piano, Ruslan Sirota on keyboards, and Ronald Bruner Jr on drums. Clarke started out the evening with some electric bass, which proves that if he were a less serious musician he could have been a seriously big-time rock star: he’s cool, he’s assured, and he’s incredibly good. Clarke took good advantage of the portability of the electric bass to move around the stage and play some great call and response music with each of his musicians, standing up close to them, one by one, and jamming.

At the end of the first piece, an audience member shouted out “You’re the king, Stanley” and Clarke responded “I’m just a bass player, that’s all”. But he is the king, not because he can be a rock star, but because of his incredible talent and skill on the bass. He is a one-of-a-kind bass player who can take the melody and have it work, who can play at the top and the bottom of the piece, and who can make melodic music with just a few notes. Of course, his mastery is best show-cased on what is thankfully his preferred instrument, the acoustic bass. After the first piece, much to my surprise and glee, Clarke set aside his electric bass in favour of the acoustic bass, and moved us into some middle ground between jazz and jazz fusion, but far enough away from pure fusion that I was happy. It was especially a treat to hear some pieces from the “Jazz in the Garden” album such as Clarke’s “Paradigm Shift (Election Day)”.

The group then went on to play a Return to Forever piece, which was even better than the first piece and featured a truly memorable drum solo by Bruner. When he lost his first drum stick during the solo, Clarke turned to him and said “you lost your drumstick! WOW!”. And then the comedy routine began: in the middle of his solo he starts beating the drum with his foot so that his hands are free to take a drink and wipe his face. Once he’s using both hands again, with a new soon-to-be-lost drumstick, he starts beating the drums in a regular pattern. As the pattern becomes familiar, Bruner encourages the audience to clap along, when he decides to mischeviously skip a beat as though to say to us “hah! got you! didn’t play that note!”.

There were some sound troubles involving painful feedback which deafened the keyboardist and was really annoying Mr Clarke, so we took a break to fix the sound.

When the music got going again it was at its peak. Clarke and Hiromi are the real stars of the band and we really see them shine when they play together and each take their own solos.  These musicians are so in tune with each other that every note fits, every rhythm jives, and every second is musical.

Every time Clarke took a solo it was breathtaking. As I was watching him really slap that bass in a way I’ve never seen anyone play the bass before, I would glance back and forth at his band members and what I saw was sheer joy on Hiromi and Sirota’s face: they were just as blown away by Clarke as the audience was. And their smiles were infectious. Watching these musicians enjoy themselves onstage while they made music just made the already good music that much more engaging.

Stanley Clarke is the master of tension and release which makes it hard to do anything but get engaged and concentrate on the music. His music always melodic, in a way I’ve never heard the bass be melodic, and it’s infused with life and urgency. When I interviewed Joshua Redman, he commented that “jazz has a built in modernity and relevance through improvisation”, and the full meaning of that statement comes to light when watching Clarke solo and do joint solos with his bandmates.

The other star of the concert was Hiromi, an incredibly talented pianist whose well-refined jazz piano has such melodic force: it’s hard to believe she’s only thirty and can only just reach an octave. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen fingers move that quickly on a piano. As Hiromi told me in an interview before the festival “It requires a lot of practicing to be able to play the right notes, but I want to hear the sound and so I work hard to hear the sound.”  Her technique is impeccable but praising that alone would hardly do this musician credit. Hearing Hiromi play is like hearing a young, modern-day Oscar Peterson, but with her own personal and wonderful flare.

Clarke closed the concert by returning to the electric bass, which seemed to be a real audience pleaser. Don’t get me wrong, he’s wonderful on the electric bass, but sometimes the electric bass is about making noise. Clarke can make noise perfectly well but what makes him a standout bassist is his ability to turn the bass-line into melody and into music. When they finished their last piece and left the stage, someone came promptly onto the stage to remove Clarke’s bass, which seemed a clear signal that no encore was to be had. But a well-deserved prolonged standing ovation amazingly coaxed him back on stage for a solid encore. Overall, it was a great concert with enough jazz to please the real jazz fans, and enough rock-like flare to appease the fusion-obsessed.

Nevertheless, I can’t help thinking what a shame it is that these great musicians were put in such a terrible venue. The sound was loud and muddled making it often impossible to make out notes being played on the keyboard or hear Hiromi at all when she wasn’t solo-ing or duet-ing with Clarke. I was wearing drummers ear plugs the  whole time to fend off deafness while those with less tailored ear plugs were feeling their ears ringing. Great music deserves great acoustics. Toronto has so many fabulous venues that it seems a waste not to use them on this group for an already expensive concert ($40-50). But don’t let me being a curmudgeon deter you from seeing the Stanley Clarke Band featuring Hiromi live at the next opportunity, or for checking out “Jazz in the Garden” or the “Stanley Clarke Band”’s new album: the music speaks for itself and it has nothing but wonderful things to say.

—————————————————————————————————————————————-
Image from Stanley Clarke’s flickr stream.

This year also marks another expansion of the festival’s mandate with the premiere of its first interactive media conference, NXNEi. The conference kicked off the festival ahead of both the film and music schedules on Monday the 14th, though unlike the other two components which are far-reaching, it was restricted entirely to the Hyatt Regency Hotel.

NXNEi can safely be called a success and seemingly much-needed, considering it sold out, despite a limited mainstream media push, and included web luminaries such as the creative and audacious Ze Frank. With NXNEi, the festival in general took another step towards perhaps one day matching its venerable sister festival, South By Southwest, which has become unmissable both for indie music and new media followers.

This year, NXNE’s music lineup features 650 bands over five days and 50 venues with an increasingly kick-ass and extensive free lineup at Yonge and Dundas Square which includes not only The Raveonettes (8 pm on Sat. 19th),  Iggy and the Stooges (9:30 pm on Sat. 19th), and De La Soul (9 pm on Sun. 20th) but also 21 other great bands over four days (Thurs. 18th – Sun. 20th). In addition, there will be free shows all over the city from Union Station to Bellevue Park in Kensington with less established (and unspecified on the website at least) bands throughout the day. Single showcase tickets are available at the door of the venues, and the other two ticket options are 5 day festival ($50) or 1 day festival ($25) wristbands.

Check out some media show recommendations for further intel.

• Now Magazine
• Eye Weekly
• Torontoist
• blogTO

Up is one of the best films of 2009, having the perfect balance of humour, romance, and adventure: an instant classic. I am a reluctant watcher of animated films; I loved Toy Story and Finding Nemo, but am part of a minority that did not like Wall-E, so the fact that I loved Up so much is a testament to its pure and wonderful movie magic. After losing his lifelong partner and wife, Carl Frederickson (voiced by Ed Asner) decides to attach thousands of helium balloons to his house to achieve his and his wife’s lifelong dream of visiting Paradise Falls in South America and seek adventure. But the diligent Wilderness Explorer, Russell, unexpectedly goes with him, having camped out on Carl’s porch the night before in an attempt to catch a “snipe” and earn his “assisting the elderly badge”.

Up bears great resemblance to its predecessors – it’s no surprise that its writers were also on the writing team of the aforementioned films – but the writing in Up is much much richer; it is a masterpiece in “showing” the story rather than just “telling” it. There is a brilliant and touching montage at the beginning of the film as we watch Carl and his wife Ellie meet as children, get married, and build a life together. There is no dialogue but we watch as they fix up their new house, we watch as they save money for Paradise Falls, but inevitably have to use those savings to pay for various emergencies – a broken tire, medical bills, and a leaky roof – delaying the achievement of their dream. We also watch the rituals that they build together: picnicking and watching the clouds, and reading together in their chairs while holding hands. We see their love, their disappointments, their hardships, and their happiness. And I cannot watch this montage without weeping like a baby, because it is so sweet, so well-observed. We do not need to be told their hopes and dreams, we watch them and see the hope in their faces. Amazingly, the rest of the movie is as good as this first sequence.

Up is very rich in details of childhood, of old age, of dogs, and of friendship. The eager young Russell, likely 7 or 8, is innocent, chatty, full of curiosity, and ready for adventure; he is just like the young Carl Frederickson we met. Frederickson is world-wearied and somewhat grouchy but still full of life and seeking adventure, despite smelling like prunes, walking around with a walker with tennis balls covering its feet, and hearing aids that like to whistle loudly. Frederickson and Russell are both sorting through pain of losing a loved one; Frederickson lost his wife and Russell’s father largely abandoned him. Inevitably, they learn to like and love each other; the journey is touching and not ever forced.

Perhaps one of my favourite things about Up is that it is clearly written by dog lovers; as a dog owner myself, I greatly appreciate this. Upon landing in South America, Carl and Russell meet a dog, which has a device installed on it to allow it to talk. This is a recipe for side-splitting humour, especially if you are a dog owner. The dog, Dug, introduces himself and interacts with Carl and Russell, but is prone to stopping mid-sentence because of a “squirrel” (crying “squirrel!”). When Carl removes one of his tennis balls from his walker for the dog to fetch it, Dug happily says “Oh I want the ball! I will go fetch the ball now and bring it back to you!”. They also meet a large and friendly bird, who Dug is searching for to bring back to his master. Upon meeting her, Dug kindly asks the bird “oh please oh please will you be my prisoner?” And that’s just the beginning. There’s much more dog humour to come, so if you are a dog owner, expect you may leave the film with a sore side.

What ensues is a well put-together plot which basically follows the predictable adventure formula of Toy Story and the lot: Carl meets his lifelong hero who went to Paradise Falls, his hero is a disappointment and wants to hurt the big bird, Carl and Russell bond and save the day. But Up is much better crafted than its predecessors: there is more than adventure, more realistic interplay between the main characters, and great humour. Because it’s about dreaming and adventure, we can forgive the ridiculous displays of “physics”, often relating to the house and its flight; after all I was happy to accept talking dog. Carl and Russell are living a dream and we are delighted to go along for the ride. The result is the best family film, and undoubtedly the best animated film, to date since Toy Story, but don’t be fooled by the “PG” rating: it’s a fun time for all ages.

Micmacs, or orignally Micmas à tire-largiot, is a French film by Jean-Pierre Jeunet, the man who directed Amélie. Now, I’m sure some of you are asking, “How on earth will this ever escape the shadow cast by the ever so amazing Amélie?” Well, all I can say is that, even to all the die-hard Amélie lovers out there, Micmacs will not disappoint.

The film is about Bazil, a man who lost his father to a landmine when he was a little boy. His life takes a turn for the worse when he comes into the path of a stray bullet in a strange shooting incident which leaves him stuck with a bullet in his head for the rest of his life. When he comes out of the hospital, his life doesn’t get any better: he loses his job at a video store and is left to live on the streets. One day, he comes across a band of misfits – each with a unique talent – who live in a junkyard and repairs objects. One day Bazil discovers the two presidents of the companies that made the weapons that killed his father and wounded his head, which leads to a grand scheme of revenge that enlists the help of his new strange friends.

Micmacs begins a bit slowly but as soon as the plot for revenge is revealed, Jeunet constantly surprises his audience with  extraordinarily clever humour and quirky storyline. Dany Boon was well cast for the role of Bazil, our shy, neurotic but unfortunate mastermind. However, a great round of applause should be given to Omar Sy who was Remington, an overly exuberant poet in the group of misfits that Bazil comes to regard as family, and Julie Ferrier, the contortionist that is Bazil’s love interest. Another special mention should also be given to Raphael Beau, who composed the charming music that went very well with the film.

All in all, Micmacs is a breath of fresh air and a must see for this summer.

Image taken from here.

Nicholas Philibert’s Nénette is a 70-minute film in which we constantly observe 40-year-old orangutan, Nénette, and her two orangutan companions, through the glass, in her captive habitat at a Paris zoo. Orangutans live to 30-35 years in the wild, so Nénette is quite old, but Philibert has us questioning, throughout the movie, if those extra years were worth the price of captivity.

Philibert puts us in the place of a visitor to the zoo, constantly gazing at but never interacting with Nénette through the glass. Nénette, for the most part, provides little entertainment, sitting still with a world-wearied expression on her face. Philibert fills the soundtrack with voiceovers of zoo visitors talking about Nénette, watching Nénette, pondering Nénette’s thoughts, and sometimes making absurd assumptions. At seventy minutes, the film feels rather long. We are desperate to see Nénette do something -anything – and in the absence of action, we make up a story about how Nénette must be feeling and thinking, just as the zoo visitors do.

Orangutans share many anatomical similarities to humans such as the hairless face and sunken eyes. But they also have a large lump below the neck; many visitors were fascinated by Nénette’s lump, which is not a breast, but is not comparable to any other part of human anatomy. Visitors gawk at the lump, as do we. The lump’s purpose is not explained until very near the end: it stores a large amount of air, which when appropriately compressed, allows orangutans to let out a very loud noise which can be heard from miles away, to warn other orangutans of danger.

We never hear Nénette make this loud cry; in captivity, she has no need to use it, the zookeeper reminds us. We learn that Nénette has had three mates, and has borne four babies, one of which still resides with her. A few years ago, when Nénette lost her third mate, the zookeepers decided to give her a break and not find her another mate; they keep her son with her for company. However, because they are uncertain of whether incest is forbidden in orangutan society, Nénette is on the birth control pill, which is slipped into her yogurt each day. They want to ensure there is no chance that Nénette will be impregnated by her son and they have no way to tell if she is yet menopausal: menstruation leaves no traces of blood in orangutans, we are told.

The film questions the ethics behind keeping animals captive and human selfishness in wanting to be able to observe these animals at all times. Yet it is interesting to use Nénette, an orangutan, as the subject for such an argument, as she has many human characteristics: we watch her unscrew the lid to a jug of tea and drink her tea with her yogurt, switching between the two as a human would. The zookeepers emphasize how orangutans – and Nénette – are very emotionally expressive and perceptive: you can tell Nénette’s feelings in her eyes. Yet orangutans are less communicative than other apes, like chimpanzees: orangutans have no capacity for speech or sounds aside from the one loud cry.

While we hear reference to the zookeepers’ relationships with Nénette, we never see their interactions together. This makes it ever-increasingly difficult to judge Nénette’s full situation and social environment for we only see her in her “natural” habitat with the other orangutans, and largely, during visiting hours. This, of course, is the point, as we are meant to be put in the shoes of the visitors. I found it disappointing, however, that with an opportunity to show and teach interesting things about orangutans in a film, the film gave us little information about Nénette, about orangutans, and about how humans form or fail to form relationships with the orangutans. This is a large missed opportunity.

Nénette is an interesting character but watching her sit calmly becomes monotonous after an hour, despite the interesting, if somewhat repetitive, commentary. Perhaps Philibert would have done better using the same material in a short rather than a feature length film. The point would be made, the scenes would be interesting, and you would leave the theatre wanting more rather than yawning just a little. That being said, this is a very well-made, very well-shot film: the small, enclosed environment never becomes tiresome. Some of the shots of Nénette are utterly gorgeous and fascinating and the audio voiceovers are well chosen and manage to tell a story. Nevertheless, it need not have been so long, and would likely have been more effective and poignant as a short film.

What: Kings of Pastry
When: Friday, May 7th @ 11AM
Where: The ROM theatre
How: The film is sold out for the screening so you’ll need to show up AT LEAST 1 hour early and stand in the rush line. It’s during the day so it’ll be free for students if you can get in. HotDocs keeps a set of tickets for press (like me), so once these are unclaimed (15 minutes before the film) they’ll start to let the Rush line in — bring something to sit on and to read!

Every year, HotDocs selects a few documentary gems, which later become great successes (like Helvetica from 2007) and seeing them at HotDocs before they are known is always a pleasure. The trick, however, is finding these films beneath the large mass of films by neophyte directors with inchoate ideas and the ridiculous notion that documentary filmmaking is merely the art of pointing a camera at anything “real”.

So far, I’ve seen two big winners at this year’s festival: Chris Hegedus and D.A. Pennebaker’s Kings of Pastry and the great Steven Soderbergh’s And Everything is Going Fine. Kings of Pastry plays again this Friday at 11AM at the ROM: it is RUSH only so show up early (no later than an hour in advance if you want to make sure you get into the movie) but it is worth the wait.

Kings of Pastry is about a group of sixteen chefs who are finalists for the MOF (Meilleurs Ouvriers de France) competition, a French competition for pastry chefs to show their cooking prowess and earn the very prestigious striped collar. Kings of Pastry focuses on three chefs: we watch them prepare for the competition, revise their pastry inventions, and finally participate in the competition.

The process by which these chefs craft pastries is utterly fascinating: a feat of structural engineering. A delicious dessert is a prerequisite for success but by no means a guarantee; presentation is equally important. One of the challenges of the MOF competition is to make a sugar sculpture, which, by nature of the material, is extremely fragile, meaning the MOF candidates must be very inventive (and careful) to ensure that their pastry is structurally sound and does not break when moved. Structural integrity is This also an issue for every other pastry, and the chefs achieve this by carefully planning and considering, at minimum, the ingredients, the thickness of materials, and the cooking time required.

Perhaps even more fascinating than the structural engineering behind these pastries is the iterative design process – yes, design process – that these chefs undergo to arrive at the perfect pastry. In one scene, we see five different versions of the same puff pastry, each with different arrangements, as one of the chefs tries to decide which pastry he wants to present at the competition. Each participant must make a large wedding cake sculpture, and the one chef we follow most closely designs and redesigns the cake many times, largely in an effort to ensure that it can support its own weight.

Although Kings of Pastry chronicles a competition, it does not feel forced or scripted and it does not follow a formula like American Idol, to use a crude example. Hegedus and Pennebaker focus on the story behind making the pastries and the art and dedication that goes into this trade, with many mouth-watering shots of these gastronomical works of art, which is absolutely mesmerizing. Last year, Nora Ephron made another movie for the epicure, Julie and Julia, about the trials and tribulations of two ambitious chefs and featured many delectable shots of gourmet French cuisine; Kings of Pastry does an equally good job of photographing food and celebrating the epicure culture, though it focuses on the story behind that special food group, dessert that has its own separate compartment in everyone’s stomach. Kings of Pastry, like Julie and Julia, celebrates the art of cooking and it’s sure to leave you craving an incredibly fancy French pastry dessert by the end of the film.

Steven Soderbergh’s film, And Everything is Going Fine, is a continuation of Soderbergh’s obsession with the actor/performer Spaulding Gray. Soderbergh made Gray’s Anatomy in 1996, which was an eighty-minute film version of one of Gray’s monologues. And Everything is Gone Fine is essentially a mash-up of old recordings of Gray’s various monologue performances interspersed with the occasional personal interview (between, presumably, Soderbergh and Gray) and television interview.

Spalding Gray is a fascinating storyteller who uses stories from his own life as fodder for – or, rather, exact material for – his stage performances, which usually take the form of ninety minute monologues. Soderbergh cuts together a myriad of these stories to give a fairly good and broad picture of Spalding Gray the storyteller and the man. The intent behind the interviews seems to be to try to establish, if it is even possible, what the difference is between Gray’s stage persona and his day-to-day persona. Gray tends to be very blunt and candid in his monologues, discussing everything from his mother’s suicide to his explorations into homosexuality. This begs the question: are there any stories that are too personal for him to tell? Unfortunately, this idea is somewhat inchoate and not very well explored, which makes the film somewhat unsatisfying.

I also felt that the film dragged a little bit and I was looking at my watch by the one-hour mark. This may be largely because the film was almost entirely non-stop interviews with or monologues by Spalding Gray: no family members, friends, or co-workers were interviewed to give different perspectives. Granted, Gray’s monologues are engaging so this approach is not wholly flawed. Nevertheless, I found that the more I heard Gray speak, the more interesting and damaged he seemed to be, the more sympathetic he was, and yet, simultaneously, the more he became unlikable. Gray had a difficult life, which may help to explain some of his hurtful and cruel actions towards the people he was most intimate with, such as cheating on his wife repeatedly. But the more details I discovered about Gray’s various indiscretions, the more repulsive I found him, the less interested I was in hearing his point of view on sex, love, and death: his favourite topics.

I should probably note that I am an extremely big Soderbergh fan. I have seen all of his films – with the exception of Gray’s Anatomy and the unwatchable Full Frontal – and Soderbergh is a really creative and innovative director and storyteller. It is, therefore, no surprise that And Everything is Going Fine looks like it has been made by a pro, even with the many VHS-quality scenes. The film is well-paced, well-cut, and thoughtfully put together. This is also Soderbergh’s first documentary. He knows how to tell a story but perhaps has not fully mastered this medium yet. Nevertheless, some of the best documentaries were made by filmmakers who did not start in documentary filmmaking (Sydney Pollack’s Sketches of Frank Gehry, Wehrner Herzog’s Encounters at the End of the World) because it takes a filmmaker to understand how to tell a story on film. Documentary filmmaking is more than just filming real people and real thing; telling a story and doing so with good cinematography is essential. Soderbergh’s And Everything is Going Fine is a flawed but good film that tells a good story and I look forward to future documentaries by Soderbergh.

Before coming to this school I was like “OMG I so need to buy adult clothes” … so I went to H&M and bought anything that screamed “I listen to obscure bands and don’t eat meat.” That was my first impression of U of T students (I’m from New College, which is at the heart of hipster central). However, after the first semester, I realized that there were SO many different environments here and there is still room for my own style. So I thought it would be fun to put to test the critical reasoning skills I gained in my first year and use them to map out 5 fashion hot-spots on campus.

Methodology: I don’t intend to stereotype by localizing the styles. Rather I created outfits based on observation, empiricism. I have established the following dichotomies according to my observations:

Victoria College (plaid skirt on map) : Rugby-inspired looks. Oxford meets Robert Pattinson. Hey, I ain’t complain’. The highlight of my day is bumping into a Vic boy with Raybans and a classic blazer. It gives me hope that one day I will find my very own Nick Jonas. Vic looks often include Keds, Boyfriend Blazers, Raybans, crests, Rugby stripes and a coffee mug, of course.

Bloor Street West (pencil grid on map): Lady Gaga meets everyday. Where every latest fashion trend can be spotted. I love window shopping on Bloor during classes. Well actually I don’t really go into the high-end stores…I just like to people watch. Bloor West outfits give me couture-in-the-city fits. You know that feeling when you see a classic Chanel bag paired with breathtaking Yves Saint Laurent heels? A rare sight in suburbia.

Hipster Central (pink zone on map): U of T hipsters are not negative soul drainers like average Toronto hipsters past the age of 25. U of T is home to intellectual hipsters: a new cross-breed which has an amazing taste in music and tells the most interesting tales.

Drama Club (theatre masks on map): This area has many refined badasses and caged explorers — you know, those who have dreams to TRAVEL the world, learn to ride a motorcycle or learn the secrets of a language for fun WITHOUT being tied down by school commitments. Their style is so eclectic that it makes you wonder what they are doing in school.

St. Mikes at Night (disco ball on map): St.Mikes is known for many things, especially their parties. But not many people realize that St. Mikes consists of many fierce nocturnal fashionistas. They only come out at nighttime after studying. Decked in sequins, colour and dramatic angles, these ladies are the queens of the club!

Now that I’ve completed my first year I have learned to appreciate the diversity of styles rather than try to assimilate. The key to fitting in at U of T (fashion-wise) is ironically not blending in. Theres nothing wrong with buying carbon copies from H&M and Forever 21 as long as you add your own spin to your outfit. Don’t feel shy to wear a crazy headpiece or hat! If it catches attention, chances are that it’s FIERCE. Fashion is subjective. An objective fashion code does not exist. So make it your own and have fun with it! Feel free to play around with the famous U of T looks above to create a very own “adult” look of your own, future first years!

For all the current U of T students, try out these summer outfits! They totally complement the greenery on campus:

The end of the year has arrived and it’s time to regain my soul by immersing myself in art. One of the first things I did after finishing all my assignments was… go to the opera! This time, I decided to see Richard Wagner’s The Flying Dutchman because I was of course, enchanted by the legend behind it that appeared in Pirate of the Caribbean. Unfortunately, there were no pirates with squid faces who could play the organ with their tentacle beards, but Wagner’s opera was pretty epic in itself.

The story is about a sailor, the Dutchman (who’s a person, not a boat), who is doomed to sail the seas for eternity. However, every seven years, the Dutchman is allowed to set foot on land to seek a woman who would be willing to love him until death; if he does, his curse will be broken. Meanwhile, on land, a girl named Senta, daughter of a sea-captain, is infatuated with the Dutchman and his legend…

I had known before the performance, to expect something different from a Wagner opera. According to my fellow friend and blogUT writer, Ailsa, Wagner was one of the few composers who wrote not only the music but the libretto (the lyrics to the songs, stage directions and plotline) of his operas. He also known for using leitmotifs, or music that are associated with characters or places. As well, I have been told by several people that Wagner’s opera’s are pretty epic, and I will agree with that opinion. If anyone saw Carmen, I would have to warn you that none of that vivaciousness is present in The Flying Dutchman, but rather the entire story is laden with heavy drama and a very heavy feel to it in general.

As expected from the Canadian Opera Company’s set designers, which in this case is Allen Moyer, the set was wonderful and well-suited to the various scenes. As a warning though, the set is tilted to one side to represent the swaying of a boat and I did find myself tilting my head to one side as well. The lighting was really well done as well – sometimes it really did seem as if real sunlight was pouring out of the windows of the set. The section that was supposed to be the part below the deck of the Flying Dutchman’s ship was also brilliant.

Julie Makerov played a powerful Senta and was absolutely perfect for the role. Her presence and power was well-suited to the drama of the opera. Another voice I particularly enjoyed hearing through the entire night was that of Mats Almgren, who was Daland, Senta’s money-loving father. I’m almost tempted to go again just to hear that unique bell-like voice. Evgeny Nikitin also played an admirable brooding Dutchman. However, I would like to give biggest round of applause to the male and female chorus who delivered energetic and beautifully resounding performances. Bravo!

Anyways, if you would like more information on the production, please refer to the Canadian Opera Company’s page for this production. Performances run from April 24th to May 20th at the Four Seasons Performing Arts Centre. Opera tickets may be a bit expensive for a student’s budget, but rush tickets are available the day of the performance for $20. Hope you see it!

BlogUTs picks for Sunday are the light romantic comedy Tricheuse/So Woman! at 7:15PM (reviewed below), the great Costa Gravas’s (director of the chilling but brilliant Missing) drama, East of Eden at 3:00PM, and Le Petit Nicolas, a family-appropriate comedy at 5:15PM, based on the nostalgic children’s books by René Goscinny, which I enjoyed very much  as a child.

Tricheuse (or So Woman! by its English title) has a recycled plot, very similar to Peter Weir’s Green Card, which itself was nothing new, about Clemence, who convinces her immigrant piano tuner, Farid, whose name she can’t remember or pronounce, to bring his two daughters to live with her so she can fake being married in order to secure her apartment and a lucrative litigation job which she needs to salvage her career. Since the piano tuner can barely afford electricity, he gets something out of the deal. Of course, they fight initially as their personalities and cultures clash: she is self-absorbed, superficial, and has a proclivity for boy toys, while he is the ultimate family man who cooks and cares for his daughter. But in the end, they fall in love, and all the conventions of a romantic comedy are met.

Tricheuse is a sweet film and a funny film and there are many scenes of mistaken identities worth a watch. For example, when Clemence’s landlord asks what Farid does for a living, she makes up a wild lie that he is a great sculptor; the building then requests that he make a sculpture for the courtyard and so Farid uses bicycles, toasters, and other objects to craft something similar to one of Clemence’s modern art sculptures in her apartment. When Clemence teaches the eldest how to write an essay, her teacher claims that plagiarism must be at work, so Clemence comes into the school to defend her as a parent and a lawyer. There are also moments of drama when Clemence gets Farid’s daughters to open up to her about their mother and they bond, though sometimes these feel a little emotionally forced.

Tricheuse is not a great film, but despite its predictability, it has some unexpected sophistication and turns, which make it a light enjoyable see for a Sunday afternoon.