Out of Order

Due to an unrelenting episode of writer's block, this blog is temporarily out of order.

Black Strobe and Arnaud Rebotini

As I said in the previous post, on the night of my third day in Montréal, I went to an Elektra party. The venue was the amazing Usine C, the former Raymond factory turned into an arts centre (a smaller version of London's Tate Modern). Apart from a series of digital arts installations scattered throughout the building, the main event of the night was a dance party in the main hall of the building. 

When I say dance party, I mean dance party. The band in charge of rocking our bones was Black Strobe, an exciting mix between the sounds of a 70s rock band (with a brightly distorted Les Paul), experimental sounds a la Kraftwerk, the urgent riffs in Marilyn Manson or even Rammstein, and a consistent stream of 80s synthethisers that made everyone feel like a role player in a Nintendo classic. Confused? Well, just watch the video below first, and then listen to the song "Italian Fireflies" here. Their act was complemented by a visual show projected on the enormous wall of the hall and, of course, dozens of strobes and black lights.

But the big surprise came when Black Strobe got off the stage. The band's front man, Arnaud Rebotini, stayed on stage, brought out a half dozen keyboards and samplers, and played an elegant live analog synth set that rocked my world and turned the place upside down. Thus began the REAL dance party. 

Rebotini looks like a French version of Elvis with the body of a bouncer. With his slick black hair and enormous sideburns, the man commands a stage presence that would make Mick Jagger bow in awe. When he's not busy playing with his six instruments with the precision of a Honda robot, he looks up to the crowd to give them a suave look. The man is literally surrounded and trapped by his keyboards, and he frees himself from time to time by blasting his french accent into the microphone. Standing at more than 190cms, he looks like the Goliath of DJs.

As the clocked moved towards 2 am, Rebotini tripled the intensity of the beats to a point where the bass made my neck vibrate so that my vocal chords started speaking without my consent. I left the place literally shaken and stirred. I'm not an electro fan, but this live act quickly became the highlight of the trip. 

Montréal, jour 3

Montréal hurts. It hurts in the bottom of the feet and all through the legs. I can feel the fatigue in the tips of my toes and all through my calves. After seven or eight hours of exploring the downtown area on my pair of Converse, I can say with a certain degree of empirical confidence that "these shoes were NOT made for walking". Anyway, this is what I found:

After a somewhat disappointing visit to the contemporary art museum (they were in the process of putting on two expos, so most of it was closed), I dedicated the whole day to the Elektra Digital Arts Festival. Earlier that day, I picked up a copy of the Mirror in the subway and read about an "Igloo installation" so I decided to go find it. I didn't have an address or any idea of where it was, but somehow seemed logical to walk to the museum district. 

And so it happened...the unexplainable magical moment that changes your entire day: looking for a bathroom while walking down Rue St. Catherine, I literally bumped into the Belgo building, or the building that hosts the most important Artist Run Centres in Montréal, making it one of the largest visual arts centers in the country. 

It took me a mere second of looking at the old style directory (golden frame and white plastic letters on black velvet) at the lobby to understand what I was about to witness. The Belgo is home to more than 30 contemporary art galleries, plus countless studios and workspaces for creators. 

In other words, I walked into what felt like the Mecca of the Montréal art scene.  More importantly, I walked into the Belgo on the first Friday of the Montréal Biennale, and on the opening weekend of the Elektra festival! I couldn't have hoped for a better afternoon: the place was alive with visitors and openings and talks and artist and wine and cheese and everything that makes contemporary art the more enjoyable. (to see what's on, check out the Belgo Report)

I particularly enjoyed the "Squeeeeque!" installation by Alexis O'Hara at Skol, the installation/performance by Chaban Unit at Circa, and the photographs at Optica and Projex Mtl.

As the sun went down, my legs took me to the famous Usine C, an old factory turned into an impressive arts centre, for the opening night of the Elektra Festival. At exactly 11 pm, I was blown away by Mr. Arnaud Rebotini and his incredible Black Strobe. But this really requires a post by itself, so... à demain! 

Montréal, jour 2

Et alors. The people of Montréal seem to love their city. I woke up and went directly for a pain au chocolat at a little boulangerie next to the Jean-Talon market, and a couple of Montrealers started talking to me. I told them my reason for visiting the city and they instantly began to tell me about the wonders of Montréal, as if they understood that they needed to convince me to stay. When I asked the taboo question, "What about the winter?" they shrugged it off with a classic "Ohh lala, pas de problème". I had my doubts, but I loved the friendliness. 

I spent the rest of the day walking around downtown Montréal, exploring the length of the Museum Quarter along Rue Sherbrooke and Rue St. Catherine. At Rue Crescent I stopped a random guy my age to ask him about the area and he was fascinated to serve as a temporary tour guide. He launched on a 15 minute talk about the city and it's architecture, and the churches and the way it was laid out...and then wrote me a list of about 10 places I should visit. 

I passed by McGill and sat on the sunny grass in front of the library, where I started conversation with a girl that said "I can't imagine a better place for my undergrad experience than McGill...except for the winters!" She was really excited to tell me all about the student life at McGill and about the thousands of things to do in the city, but she was also adamant about the winters: "you'll HATE the winters, but it's worth it." 

And then I walked into the highlight of the day: the IMAGINE: The Ballad of John & Yoko expo at the Museum of Fine Arts. The museography is simply insuperable! It is an expo that breaks the boundaries between audience and artists and invites everyone to participate with the art. For instance, in order to commemorate the famous "Bed-in" for peace that Yoko and John staged in Montréal in 1969, the expo had a whole room recreating the scene, with an enormous white bed where visitors could sit or lie and stage their own "bed-in" while listening to the original recordings of Give Peace a Chance. There is also an incredible room with a white piano where one can sit and play Imagine while watching the original video of the song projected on a huge white wall. 

But the most impressive to me is the room dedicated to the War is Over! campaign. The room is full of TV's displaying original news videos and footage from the major peace demonstrations around the world in 1969, as well as tragic videos from Vietnam. There is also a timeline highlighting the main events of 1969, as well as the main advances in human rights of the 1960s, all surrounded by the posters of the publicity campaign and photographs of John and Yoko's demonstrations. Most importantly, this room didn't feel like a piece of old history; instead, it felt like an urgent call for political protests and mobilizations against today's equally irrational war in Iraq. I left the expo inspired, excited about the vast possibilities for art to stir the minds and hearts of sensible audiences everywhere. 

You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one.  

Montréal, jour 1

Today's subject is Montréal! I was accepted to a Masters program at McGill University and decided that I couldn't make an educated decision of accepting the offer unless I spent at least a week exploring the city and the university. Thus, I arrived this afternoon, ready to experience the city's attractions and fuse myself with its urban pulse for a few days.

After only one afternoon of roaming around, I can already tell that I will leave this trip enchanted. My very first walk was along the Rue Saint-Denis, full of little French cafés and unique restaurants that served as a flavorful first impression. Apart from bringing me great memories of my childhood summers spent in France, I could instantly smell something that differentiates this city from Vancouver: Montréal has a lot of character.

Character? What in the world does he mean by "character", you might ask. Well, it's simple. To the newcomer, the city of Montréal feels authentic; if feels like it has been here for ages, and that traditions have stuck and created a true Montréal identity. Vancouver, on the other hand, feels like a city in constant transition, where every building is new or recently restored, and where most people are passengers waiting for the next reshuffle. (says he who might contribute to this)

Adding to my initial awe, my hostess Charlotte had the brilliant idea of taking me to the famous Schwartz's for an indescribably delicious smoked meat sandwich. We then walked along the Boulevard Saint Laurent, peeking into the dozens of carefully designed restaurants, and microbreweries... and I had an epiphany: 

Vancouver bores me to death sometimes because its evening entertainment relies (sadly) on an ever growing network of chotchy chain restaurants! As you all know, once you've been to one Earl's, you've been to EVERY Earl's...or Cactus Club, or Joey's, or Milestone's, etc. (granted that Gastown has some fantastic places...but it's only 6 blocks long). Instead, Montréal is full of original bistros and pubs where instead of watching hockey until their eyes bleed (and drinking themselves to a coma), people are actually having conversations! Ahhh the marvels of the Latin culture! 

À demain!

Standby

The stories from the epic West coast roadtrip will have to wait a week. They have shown an incredible affinity to the pages of my notepad and I'm having trouble transferring them to this medium... patience!

Tapensen! (H1N1)

Coachella Art

Epic Roadtrip!

As a person who values science and it's explanatory mechanisms, I have alway rejected superstition as a way to understand the events of my life. Instead of relying on the concept of luck, I choose to blame all of my daily ocurrences on the laws of probability. However, a series of very fortunate events this past week have forced me to accept that I am, indeed, a very lucky guy. 

A friend of mine asked me a favor. He wanted me to fly to San Diego and drive his new SUV back to Vancouver, all expenses paid. Given that the Pacific Coast Highway has always been in the top tier of my "List of things to do before I die", I instantly said YES.. A day later, I realized that Coachella would be happening on the same weekend that I would have to fly to San Diego! 

To make this story short, I'm blogging from a bus that will take me from Vancouver to Seattle. I will then board a plane that will take me to California, to meet all of my good friends. I'll be rocking in the Palm Desert for three days, listening to some of my favorite bands. Then, I'll start an epic road trip by myself from San Diego to Vancouver, with stops in L.A., Santa Barbara, Santa Cruz, Frisco, Napa, Portland, and Seattle. 

The itinerary is obviously very flexible... so please, dear readers, send me some suggestions! 

p.s. hooray for buses with Wi-Fi. And yes, I do intend to visit Malibu, in honor of the Dude.

Film day: Pasqualino Settebellezze

Sundays in Vancouver fall under two opposite categories: phenomenal and depressing. Obviously, the weather is the factor that determines which category applies. Today is one of the depressing ones, with deep grey skies and non-stop rain. The bike will have to stay inside; the frisbee locked in a closet. 

However, these grey Sundays also provide an ideal opportunity to unleash my movie buff persona. Therefore, I hereby establish Sundays as the official film recommendation day in this blog. 

Today's film is Lina Wertmuller's Pasqualino Settebellezze (or Seven Beauties): 

And if you feel like leaving your house this evening, Pacific Cinematheque is celebrating the 50th anniversary of Fellini's La Dolce Vita. Don't miss this great opportunity to see a 35mm copy of the film projected in a movie theatre! Details here. Also, Wong Kar-Wai's Ashes of Time Redux is playing at 5pm at Pacific Cinematheque).

Ting Tings vs. Los Campesinos

What to do, what to do?? Both bands are playing tonight in Vancouver and I'm torn... I have them both in my iPod, they're both playing at Coachella, they're both B+ bands in my book, and they will both attract similar scenester crowds. 

Given that I have no preference for either show, I suppose I'll have to resort to the good ol' principles of rational choice theory and go to whichever show is a little cheaper. My Econ profs would be proud. 

What would Lennon do?

Bombs to minerals

I'm lying on my couch reading Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse Five and I just came to that wonderful, famous, passage where Billy watches a war movie backwards and the bomber planes fix the world instead of destroying it. I was reading a news dispatch by Juan Goytisolo on Sarajevo earlier today, which makes me particularly sensitive to Vonnegut's words.... so I'll just post them here and hope that they enlighten someone's day:

"He came slightly unstuck in time, saw the late movie backwards, then forwards again. It was a movie about American bombers in the Second World War and the gallant men who flew them. Seen backwards by Billy, the story went like this:

American planes, full of holes and wounded men and corpses took off backwards from an airfield in England. Over France, a few German fighter planes flew at them backwards, sucked bullets and shell fragments from some of the planes and crewmen. They did the same for wrecked American bombers on the ground, and those planes flew up backwards to join the formation.

The formation flew backwards over a German city that was in flames. The bombers opened their bomb bay doors, exerted a miraculous magnetism which shrunk the fires, gathered them into cylindrical steel containers, and lifted the containers into the bellies of the planes. The containers were stored neatly in racks. The Germans below had miraculous devices of their own, which were long steel tubes. They used them to suck more fragments from the crewmen and planes. But there were still a few wounded Americans, though, and some of the bombers were in bad repair. Over France, though, German fighters came up again, made everything and everybody as good as new.

When the bombers got back to their base, the steel cylinders were taken from the racks and shipped back to the United States of America, where factories were operating night and day, dismantling the cylinders, separating the dangerous contents into minerals. Touchingly, it was mainly women who did this work. The minerals were then shipped to specialists in remote areas. It was their business to put them into the ground, to hide them cleverly, so they would never hurt anybody ever again.

The American fliers turned in their uniforms, became high school kids. And Hitler turned into a baby, Billy Pilgrim supposed. That wasn't in the movie. Billy was extrapolating. Everybody turned into a baby, and all humanity, without exception, conspired biologically to produce two perfect people named Adam and Eve, he supposed."

Birds!

p.s. I need a tripod.

Fujimori

The road to justice is long and complicated. Today, after a 15 month trial, Alberto Fujimori was found guilty of torture, kidnapping, and enforced disappearings. This trial may set a precedent for accusing and convicting former heads of state that led oppressive regimes or allowed (or even ordered) war crimes. 

The weather (or e-Small talk)

For centuries, the weather has been the primary subject of banal conversation between individuals that meet on the street and have no desire to share any deep or personal thoughts. More recently, with the dawn of the taxi, the weather has become the theme of choice for passengers that want to avoid the awkward silence that occurs when riding alone in the back seat of someone else's car.

Today, as the internet becomes the medium of choice for communication within the human species, it is only normal to expect that the weather will soon take over as the main source of inspiration for armies of bloggers trying desperately to publish their voice to an anonymous crowd of readers. So today, dear blogfans, I feel it is my duty to engage in some small talk and tell you about the weather:

OMG this weather is crazy. I can't believe it was snowing on April 1st and yesterday it was 15 degrees (Celsius)! Just last week, I was walking around with a winter coat and a scarf and today I'm considering wearing flip flops and a t-shirt. Jeeez! Gotta love Vancouver.

(Yes, unfortunately, it is rather difficult to talk about the weather using formal language, for fear of sounding like a television weather man. i.e. "a low pressure system entering the province from the north will disperse the cold air and bring springlike temperatures and clear skies on Sunday.")

Radiohead full concert (o una probadita)

Animated me

Reenacting one of my childhood nightmares.

(Please use Firefox. Other browsers don't display this as intended.)

Loftcube

"Imagine a place where your neighbors fly, and windows are 360º wide. A place where you can work, relax...and share life with your friends. Imagine the possibilities...of living on a rooftop. Welcome to the Loftcube! A living unit for passionate individuals. See you on the rooftop."

Jajaja. Creo que para la Condesa la campaña sería, "Imagina cambiar tus tinacos por... LOFTS, goooeeeiii"

In Vancouver, of course, this would contravene a number of bylaws protecting the flight paths of endangered winged species.

Omegle

My friend Chris shared this link today and I think he doesn't know the potentially devastating effect it can have on me. I love talking to people, especially to random strangers! Yes, I'm one of those people that turns around and talks to you in the bus, or tells you what cereal he likes at the supermarket. So Chris, thank you... this will officially be the end of my leisure time.

OMEGLE

Canadá acepta refugiados...Mexicanos?!!

Hace unos dias el Vancouver Sun publicó una noticia en primera plana que me dejó con el ojo cuadrado. Según el periódico, Canadá está recibiendo números record de solicitudes de refugiados mexicanos. El año pasado, más de 8000 mexicanos solicitaron entrada a Canadá como refugiados, posicionando a México en el lugar #1 en la lista de solicitudes. Es decir, olvídense de Iran, Iraq, Afganistán, Sudán, y demás países con guerras, represión extrema, y dictaduras militares. La guerra contra el narco de Felipe Calderón es la que más refugiados está mandando a Canadá! 

Desgraciadamente, el Vancouver Sun es un periódico sensacionalista donde constantemente se publican fotos terribles sobre la guerra contra el narco en México sin mucho contexto histórico o estadísticas sobre el conflicto, creando la imagen falsa de un país en guerra total. Así que, aunque hay diversos factores que pueden explicar ese número de solicitudes, para el periódico está clarísimo que México es un país donde la población está en manos de los narcos. 

Lo interesante de esta nota va a ser cuando Canadá responda a las solicitudes y determine si acepta a los refugiados. Creo que sería un golpe político tremendo contra el gobierno de Calderón puesto que, al aceptar a los refugiados, el mensaje directo es "México no es capaz de proteger a sus ciudadanos." En lo personal, si eso va a contribuir a que el gobierno de Calderón reevalúe su absurda campaña contra el narco, que los acepten a todos!  

Fistful of Love

Yes, a very late review of the Antony and the Johnsons is in the works. In the meantime...

Junos!

Apologies to all my readers for this long absence. I have no excuse except for a bad case of writer's block that was aggravated by the rain. In any case, I have now found a great reason to post again! 

As you all probably know, the Juno Awards are happening this weekend in Vancouver, and there are a number of festivities around the city. There's even a Juno Fest. I must warn you that of the more than 100 bands playing in this fair city this weekend, there are no more than 10 that deserve your attention. And by your attention, I mean the attention of people that have musical tastes similar to mine and enjoy the music I share in this blog and the tales of concerts and musical adventures published here. 

I personally think that the credibility of the Juno Awards as a measure of high quality music suffers tremendously from the fact that Nickelback (or the worst band in the world) is nominated for five awards. One of my top ten favorite moments in Vancouver happened yesterday as I was doing some grocery shopping: Nickelback was playing in the background and I walked next to a man that said "every time that Nickelback sings, the Lord weeps." Hahaha. There's even a Facebook group called "Every time Nickelback is played, God kills a Llama". As for the term Nickelback, here is a precise definition.

Having said that, here are the bands that I wish I had seen yesterday night at the Media Club:

Said the Whale

Hey Rosetta!

And these are the bands that I'm excited to see tonight at the Railway Club:

Eldorado

Deep Dark Woods

Plants and Animals

p.s. hoorray for all the "green" band names.

Reminiscing Radiohead

I'm sitting in my Vancouver apartment, suffering from a terrible cold. I can feel the antihistamine drowsiness kicking in as the first notes of There There burst out of my speakers. The runny nose and persistent cough are a modest price to pay for one of the most fantastic weekends of my life: Radiohead TWICE in Mexico City!

Flashback to September 10, 2001. It's 9pm and I'm at the Santa Maria Novella station in Florence, waiting for a train that will travel all night to Berlin. I get off the train at Bahnhof Zoo at 5pm on September 11 and I see hundreds of people staring at the television screens. The Twin Towers are burning, people around me are shouting in German, and the only word I can register is "terroristen". A couple of hours later, I'm standing at the Parkbühne Wuhlheide with my friends Jan, Raúl, and Tatiana, listening to a very angry Thom Yorke singing "Come on, come on, Holy Roman Empire". The metaphor is too fitting. "Come on if you think, come on if you think, you can take us all." (This historic concert is now the I Might Be Wrong: live recordings.)

Fast forward to Florence, July 9, 2003. I'm at the Piazzale Michelangelo with Jessica, Aranzazú, and Andrés, desperately trying to find a scalper. Outside the concert fence there is a mass of ticketless fans trying to catch a glimpse of the stage by standing on top of cars and trashcans. We roam around the entrance like blood thirsty predators, until the music begins, forcing us to sit outside in resignation. The sense of community is unavoidable in this large group of outcasts, as we all tap our feet and quietly murmur the lyrics of the show we can't see. Thom is almost cruel when he says "There's a gap in between...where I end and you begin."

Then it's August 19, 2008. I cross the street from my apartment in Vancouver and arrive at Thunderbird Stadium with Pablo and Ignacio. A perfect new album and a great venue promise a perfect show. But the sudden combination of rain and an imperfect crowd make it all uncomfortable. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? 

Not for long. 

It's March 14, 2009. I arrive unannounced at my father's 60th birthday party in Mexico City and my sister informs me that, by mere chance, Radiohead is playing this weekend. My heart leaps out of its chamber as I work through my phone list to get tickets (gracias Diana, gracias Pablo). Twenty-four hours later, I'm standing at the Foro Sol, listening to the opening beats of 15 Step and shouting at the top of my lungs. The concert is insuperable, the setlist tailored to perfection. A day later I'm at the exact same spot, next to the central console, listening in disbelief to How to Disappear Completely. I suddenly realize that after two years of living in Vancouver, I forgot what it's like to experience a concert in a Mexico City crowd. The amount of passion, the noise, the warmth are unexplainable... DF, "You're all I need, you're all I need". 

As I grab yet another tissue and blow my nose, I stop and remember the weekend. I close my eyes to relive the euphoria, the shouts and chants coming out of 55,000 voices. My cough interrupts the memory of the bright led tubes just as the last notes of Videotape echo from my ongoing playlist. It suddenly hits me that I will never listen to this (or any) song in the same way. 

(p.s. This is what a real crowd feels like. Or this. And again. At 1:38)

Waiting Impatiently in DF

My absence from this blog in the past week can be explained by a number of correlated factors that kept me away from my computer. There are many stories to tell and many posts waiting in line: the Andrew Bird concert in Seattle, Antony and the Johnsons in Vancouver, another post on The Watchmen, and maybe a joke or two. But today is not the day to write them.

Today, I'm in Mexico City waiting impatiently for my father's suprise birthday party. He's turning 60 and I decided that the best gift would be to grab a plane and show up at his party. Hopefully there will be a microphone lying around somewhere, because not only do I intend to sing, but my father is the funniest talk show host you can imagine when it comes to his own celebrations! Needless to say, I'm planning to make an explosive entrance that involves being concealed inside an enormous cake. I can't wait to see his face! (the interesting thing about surprise parties is that the surprise becomes perfectly reciprocal).

AND, by mere chance, I'm also waiting impatiently for the most anticipated and talked-about event of the year. Radiohead in Mexico City. I repeat, RADIOHEAD in Mexico City! As you may recall, I already saw this tour in Vancouver, but I can't even begin to explain how different this will be. In fact, I can't even say that it's the same tour. (I don't think I need to explain the difference between the boring Vancouver crowds that simply "chill" at concerts and the 80,000 screaming Mexican souls that sing each and every song from beginning to end) Mexico has been waiting 13 years for this concert and it took me only a minute or two of navigating through the radio frequencies today to realize that this megalopolis has high pressure Radiohead pumping through its veins. In other words, the history of Radiohead will have a before DF and an after DF. I hope Thom Yorke understands what he is up against tomorrow night, otherwise he's in for his ultimate surprise party.

The Watchmen

I'm waiting impatiently for tomorrow's release of the movie The Watchmen. Following in the footsteps of many a hipster, I've had the comic sitting in my bookshelf for about a year, acquiring the dust that invariably settles on projects that are indefinitely postponed. 

I must confess that I was one of those poor souls that first heard about The Watchmen in 2008, when news about the movie's production was already in the airwaves. And yes, I was also one of the many hundreds of sheep that payed attention to the book only after seeing it lying around in one of those temples of hipsterdom, Urban Outfitters. 

Like a new pair of Onitsuka Tigers, the bright yellow cover was too cool to ignore. Like an avid consumer of trends, I relaxed my muscles and let the store decide what I needed to have. And so I bought the book, skimmed through it on the way home, and shelved it thinking I would get to it eventually. 

Months passed, moths sat on it, and it was only after I saw the poster for the movie two weeks ago that I realized I had an urgent date with a comic book. Today I'm at the last chapter and my mind is racing in all directions. The moral dilemmas of vigilantism mixed with philosophical considerations of the value of life on Earth, all wrapped in a superhero story full of intrigue and placed in the middle of Cold War geopolitical dilemmas, is simply too complex and incredible to describe in this simple post! 

I understand that to many of you I'll sound like an idiot who all of a sudden realizes that the White Album is pure genius and tells you "duuude, you have to listen to that band, The Beatles"... but to all of you who haven't discovered The Watchmen, this book is not just a fad, it is literature at its best, and I suggest you read it! 

P.S. For a more academic reading on The Watchmen, Prof. Jason Dittmer discusses the comic's treatment of the Nietzchean dilemma of the Superman (Übermensch) in his article "The Tyranny of the Serial: Popular Geopolitics, the Nation, and Comic Book Discourse" (Antipode, Volume 39, Issue 2, p. 253).

Spike & Mike's Animation Festival

For all of you fans of animation, this week the Rio Theatre is hosting Spike & Mike's Sick & Twisted Festival of Animation. Commonly known as the Kings of Tasteless Toons, Spike & Mike are famous for being the world's greatest promoters of adult animation art. Some of the past contributors to the festival include Tim Burton, Eric Fogel (creator of Celebrity Deathmatch) and Kenn Navarro (Happy Tree Friends). Also, the now super famous Beavis and Butthead cartoon was "discovered" at Spike & Mike's festival!

I went to the festival last Saturday and I must confess that it was quite a different experience to be in a theatre surrounded by a crowd of adult animation fans. For instance, there were constant shouts and loud comments. The crowd was unforgiving to the animations that they didn't like, and like strict judges, they would loudly dismiss or laugh at any faux pas in the stories. But regardless of what each animation was about, the loud clapping and whistling between clips made it clear that this crowd was alive and thirsty for high quality animation! The festival ends this weekend, so don't miss it!

These were my favorite animations:


"Animal Instincts" by Cameron Edser (clay animation rules!)


"Yellow Sticky Notes" by Jeff Chiba Stearns (from the Vancouver Film School!)



"2 minute itch" by Eric Favala (I laughed so hard my stomach hurt)



The famous "Lapsus" Juan Pablo Zaramella


"Frog" by Christopher Conforti (got a full minute of applause)


"2 in the AM PM" by J G Quintel (a true acid trip!)


"Dr. Tran's Quiet Log Time" by Breehn Burns & Jason Johnson (Spike & Mike called it "one of the coolest films in years!")


This one is more like a music video, but still hilarious:



And last but not least, this was Spike's favorite animation:

The incredible "Ghost of Stephen Foster" by Raymond S. Persi (so retro!)

Shame

"It is still difficult for me to believe that I was abducted, hauled from one country to the next, and tortured in medieval ways - all orchestrated by the United States government." 

Binyam Mohamed, freed Guantanamo detainee.

Slumdog Millioncrap

Tonight will probably serve as confirmation that the Oscars are not (and never have been) a measure of good cinema. According to most predictions, Slumdog Millionaire will win best picture and many of its other 10 nominations. I simply don't understand. To me, Slumdog Millionaire was not worth the 8 dollars I paid to see it. Yes, it's about the life of a slumdog that becomes a millionaire. Wow, never heard of anything like it. And yes, the plot moves through a series of constant flashbacks of the kid's life. Wow, how original. Then there's a good brother and a bad brother. Wow, such intrigue. And then, believe it or not, they both fight for a girl and in the end, the good brother gets the girl! Unbelievable.

Now, if we forget this painful and cliché ridden plot for a second, what do we have left? Spectacular actors? Hell no! (unless you're into soap opera style fakeness) A groundbreaking message? Pleeease. Good laughs? Yeah, maybe that scene when the kid jumps into a pile of feces was fun...and maybe one or two of the scenes had interesting lighting. But is the Academy really going to give this mediocre film the Oscar for Best Picture?? If the Oscars were really about recognizing good cinema, Milk would be the top choice of the night.

Needless to say, I agree completely with the more serious criticism by Chei Amlani.

--------------------------- update Feb 23 -------------------------------

I really don't understand how Slumdog won best film yesterday. I guess Hollywood was hit hard by the "Exotic" factor and the Academy was hypnotized by the saturated colors, like kids in a candy shop. 

Anyway, my friends Miriam and Juan Pablo shared a couple of excellent reviews, one by Anthony Lane, the other by David Denby.

Y luego está este graaan post de Uno y Uno Son Demasiados.

David Byrne in Van!!

I'm simply speechless. This seldom happens to me... but I can't even begin to describe the magic of David Byrne's show last night at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre. And given that David Byrne needs no explanation or introduction from your blogger, I'm not even going to try.

Suffice it to say that David Byrne managed to get a Vancouver audience out of their seats!! The first six or seven songs were mainly from the new album and from My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, which kept the audience sitting down at their most polite. But then, after this delicious appetizer, he suddenly reached into his bag of tricks and pulled out "Once in a Lifetime" followed by "What a Day That Was"...what an entrée! Then, when our mouths were asking for dessert, David Byrne gave us a tasty "Take Me to The River" followed by the finest rendition ever of "Burning Down the House". He finished with the beautiful new "Everything That Happens Will Happen Today", followed by a good seven minutes of handbreaking applause.

As a sidenote, David Byrne's posse included not only incredibly talented musicians (Redray Frazier, Jenni Muldaur, Kaissa, Forro in the Dark), but also a trio of dancers that kept the visuals interesting.

For another opinion (and a photo and a video) see BunkleLife.

Or read the more thorough review by Ken Eisner.

Contrail

Hipsters, bike fans, riders, lend me your ears! How would you like to not just ride your single speeds, but leave a mark while doing it? And I'm not talking about leaving a mark in a metaphorical sense (like riding for cancer or something of the sort). I'm talking about literally leaving a trail of chalk when you ride your bike on the streets of downtown Vancouver!

If you're a little intrigued/excited, take a look at Contrail.











(And yes, it's environmentally friendly and no animals were hurt during the production of the chalk)

This weekend in Van

If you are not one of the fortunate few that will be going to David Byrne tonight, don't jump off the Burrard Bridge.

Tonight, Steve Aoki is playing at Celebrities. But if you don't feel like going to a club, tonight is the opening night of Spike & Mike Sick & Twisted Festival of Animation at the Rio Theatre on Broadway and Commercial.

And tomorrow night, 6S Marketing is hosting a light show/block party called Illuminate Yaletown.

Enjoy!

A Capella!

Tonight is the David Byrne and Brian Eno concert, which made me feel very musical this morning, which made me go online on a long music search, which eventually led me to this:

The Carleton Singing Knights

The Daft Punk song is magic...but my favorite is by far the Gorillaz cover. Enjoy!

City of Others

I'm planning to launch a website to showcase some of my recent photographic work. Therefore, I've been researching ways to display the photographs on the website and create a layout that is exciting for my viewers. By mere coincidence, I bought a pair of jeans from an L.A. brand called City of Others and followed the instructions on the tag, which led me directly to this amazing photo display! (I wonder how many hundreds of hours of programming it took to create it)

---------------------------- update Feb 21 -----------------------------

That amazing photo viewing application is called TiltViewer and you can download it for free.

Human Rights

Ahhh the marvelous world of animation...

Monopoly!

This is the post where you learn about Mike Daisey.

As part of the Push Festival volunteer staff, I had the opportunity to see the monologue "Monopoly!". Any description I might give you of this show would be insufficient to correctly transmit the show's magic, its thought provoking message, and Mike's energy. I confess that before the show, I wasn't too thrilled about the idea of sitting through a 90 minute monologue...but it only took the performer a few seconds to turn my skepticism into awe.

Mike Daisey delivers his monologue with such strength that you literally put off blinking for the entire show. "Monopoly!" navigates perfectly through different true stories of corporate abuse, weaving bits of Daisey's personal life into a plot that suddenly becomes everyone's daily confrontation with rapacious private interests. From a strong commentary on big box store suburbia to an enlightening critique of the intellectual property system, "Monopoly!" serves as an urgent call against the abuses of unchecked corporate power.

I don't remember excatly when it happened, but somewhere between the stories of I suddenly felt a lump of coal in my throat. If you simply read the story of Nicola Tesla, or read how Parker Brothers bought the rights to Monopoly from its true inventor, you probably won't feel a thing. But after hearing Mike Daisey tell you the story and seeing how he develops the characters and turns their lives into passionate accounts of injustice, it is impossible not to feel a hole in your chest. And if you already have even a slightly negative opinion of Wal Mart, this show's poetic message might turn you into a full time activist.

Needless to say, if you have the chance, go see a show by Mike Daisey.

Here is the description of "Monopoly!" on the show's website:

In this devastating monologue about monopoly and its discontents, Mike Daisey explores the warped genius of inventor Nikola Tesla and his war with Thomas Edison over electricity—alternating current versus direct current—a battle that etched itself into the streets of New York City itself. This thread loops and whorls around Microsoft’s historic antitrust lawsuit, the secret history of the board game Monopoly, and ultimately the story of Daisey’s hometown and its one remaining retailer: Wal-Mart. As subversive as it is hilarious, Monopoly! illuminates the issues we confront under corporate rule, and explores the choices and struggles individuals face living in a system that recognizes only profit and loss.

Live From a Bush of Ghosts

Ahhhh the beauty of fresh, innovative and significant theatre! Yesterday I had the privilege of attending Live From a Bush of Ghosts, a superb show presented by Theatre Conspiracy. The set ressembles a live DJ set with a dance floor, where the only actress plays an array of intimately tied stories about technology, while two DJ's and a video artist create virtual worlds for her characters. The stories are frighening and contemporary, and the actress uses impressive body language to haunt the spectators' imagination. I particularly enjoyed a part about a stock broker who is fatally tied to her cellphone and begins to breakdown as the market literally crashes all around her.

The show was especially significant to me because the music is inspired by David Byrne and Brian Eno (and I'm going to their concert in a few days!), and the initial part about a Third World electronic trash dump echoed last Thursday's talk by Edward Burtynsky's (his images of these dumps are the most frighteningly beautiful examples of our daily complicity in the Earth's destruction).

This show is playing at Studio 16 (1555 W. 7th Av), at 7pm tonight and 4pm tomorrow (Sunday). Don't miss this!!!

Here is the description on their site:

Spirits arise from the toxic smoke of First World electronic trash dumped in the developing world. A boy lured by an internet predator, a suicidal stockbroker, a heavy metal televangelist — these are a few of the ghosts haunting a woman who melts down computer components to retrieve precious metals for pennies a day.

With music inspired by Brian Eno and David Byrne’s seminal recording My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, Theatre Conspiracy delves into the fallout of digital culture. Electronic band No Luck Club performs along with live video mixes by Candelario Andrade as dancer/actor Tara Cheyenne Friedenberg creates multiple roles to conjure a ghostworld that is a physical, visual, sonic feast for the senses.

For activists

And walking around the city today after an inspiring talk by Edward Burtynsky, I saw this inscription on a wall:

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful committed citizens can change the world. It is the only thing that ever has." Margaret Mead


Feliz Cumpleaños, Andrés!

Guitar Hero

Like many kids of my generation, I used to be a video game addict. From Mario Bros. to Contra, to Final Fantasy, and Grand Theft Auto, my addiction touched every genre and console. However, for various reasons, I stopped gaming about 4 years ago. This means that I felt completely untouched by the wave of Guitar Hero madness that has swept over the world...until now.

Last Thursday, I volunteered to give a guitar lesson to inner city kids in an East side elementary school in Vancouver. I spent about two days preparing for the lesson, thinking of simple chord progressions to teach to the kids, or easy riffs to keep them entertained. Memories of my first guitar lessons flashed through my mind and I thought about teaching them an easy Beatles song to get them excited about learning a full song in a single class ("Obla di obla da" was obviously the first choice). But one thing I never thought about was studying the songs in the game "Guitar Hero 3: Legends of Rock"!

As I walked into the class and introduced myself to the kids (fifth graders), I tried to begin a conversation about their taste in music. A teacher has to find some common cultural referents, so I tried namedropping some bands...to no avail. The kids stared back at me as if I were speaking in tongues! I namedropped some more, even began to play the intro of Wish You Were Here...but the result was the same. I stopped and realized that I was staring down into a deep and authentic generational gap.

And then a hand shot up in the air. It was a twelve year old with an awesome mohawk that made me and my knit scarf look like a Backstreet Boy. He looked at me in the eyes and delivered the magic words: "dude, don't you know any song from the new Guitar Hero??" Ha! Suddenly the whole class was talking of the songs, and of the levels, and if Slash was the hardest to beat, or if Jimmy Hendrix was faster. I was taken by surprise...shocked. It suddenly dawned on me that the musical tastes of a whole new generation are being shaped by the playlists in Guitar Hero! Elementary kids everywhere are connecting with long foregone music legends through the colored buttons of their plastic guitars. This, more than anything, more than its record breaking sales, is the true success of the game.

And, of course, as the lesson proceeded, I did NOT mention the Beatles song.

Become Pollock!

This is probably the most ingenious website I've seen in 2009. (it's also a marvelous time waster for these times of high unemployment!)

JacksonPollock.org


note to self: I should hold a screenshot competition here to attract viewers.

Her Morning Elegance

Gracias a Uno y uno son demasiados por esta maravilla de video. Me acabas de abir el bote de las ideas para mis intentos de animaciones....

Mi abuela Josefina

Hoy me levanté triste.
El calendario de mi celular me despertó con un noticia importante:
Hoy es el cumpleaños de mi abuela Josefina.

Mi abuela murió hace exactamente un año y tres dias.
Unos dias antes de cumplir 90 años.
Murió planeando su gran fiesta.

Recuerdo esa horrible madrugada del 30 de enero.
Me despertó la voz triste de mi papá en el teléfono.
Mi mamá no podía hablar. Colgué y me fui a la aeropuerto.

Me acuerdo de la escena en el mostrador de Mexicana.
"Mi vuelo era la próxima semana...pero necesito salir hoy"
Se nos adelantó la festejada.

...

Hoy publicaron la fecha de mi graduación,
Estoy triste porque cuando veo los 4 boletos para invitados
No puedo dejar de pensar en mi invitada de honor.

Coachella 09 lineup!

The lineup for Coachella 2009 has finally been published, which means it's time to start saving money and making plans for the magical mystery roadtrip to the depths of the Palm Desert in California! As happens every year, the lineup gave me a confused mix of excitement and disappointment.

Excitement because I'll get to see Beirut, Antony and the Johnsons, and Band of Horses again! Excitement because I'm dying to see Sebastien Tellier, Los Campesinos! and TV on the Radio! Excitement because it will probably be raining in Vancouver while we're under the desert sun listening to these amazing bands.

Disappointment because The Killers are headlining (I seriously hope they're not the new Jack Johnsons of this year...with his boring surfer guitar headlining every festival in 2008)! Disappointment because Andrew Bird and Yeasayer are not on the list. And disappointment because they could have definitely found someone younger, more innovative and infinitely more fresh than Paul McCartney to headline Friday night.

---------------------------------------update--------------------------------------------

As always, Rodrigo was quick to point out that McCartney has a new project called The Fireman...which pretty much leaves me without an argument for a more innovative, fresher sound. Much obliged.

In Stanley Park

A perfect Sunday afternoon if you ask me!

(special thanks to Emilio, a.k.a the breathing tripod)

La dieta FARC

Atención nutriólogos y profesionales de la salud, Ingrid Betancourt presenta la Dieta FARC:













(si no fuera tan mocha, ya hubiera sacado un calendario)

Get off the couch!

It takes a unique event to inspire most people to sacrifice their perfect evening on a soft couch, watching a TV comedy on prime time while indulging on some comfort food. Every city, however cosmopolitan, experiences some idle weeks in the year, the kind where nothing poses a serious threat to the couch plan. However, this is NOT the time to stay at home in Vancouver!

Or paraphrasing some Zoolander male model, "Vancouver, it's so hot right now".

Here are my top 5 reasons to leave the couch:

1. (Jan. 14-Feb. 1st) Vancouverites can experience the best culinary marvels of the city by going to Dine-Out Vanouver 2009. For those of you haven't heard, the best restaurants in the city are offering three course meal menus for cheap, fixed prices. Restaurants are divided into three price categories, $18, $28, and $38, and their Dine-Out menus are all available online.

(My favorites: if you feel like going to a cozy bistro and eating a stout and cheddar foundue, a ratatouille provençale, and a chocolate banana bread pudding for only $18, visit Burgoo! If Asian flavors excite your pallate, try the salt spring island mussels, a Vietnamense nuoc cham sablefish or pulled duck confit crepes, and a coconut sticky rice for just $28. Or if you have a fancy date and would like to impress him/her with an albacore tuna tataki, a Kurobota pork roasted for 24 hours, and a key lime cheesecake by Frank Pabst (best chef 2008), visit Blue Water Café for a modest $38. Dine-Out Vancouver is certainly the best excuse to leave your comfort food in the fridge and gain some good winter pounds!)

2. Concerts, concerts, concerts at the Biltmore Cabaret! Metronomy plays on Saturday 24, Matt & Kim play on Wednesday 28, and The Album Leaf play on Saturday 31.

3. (Jan. 16-Feb. 16) For all you film buffs, Pacific Cinematheque is playing a retrospective of films by Japanese director Nagisa Oshima. The retrospective is called In the Realm of Oshima, and it was called "the international film retrospective of the year" by Liam Lacey of the Globe and Mail. I'm dying to watch Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence, starring David Bowie.

4. (Jan. 20-Feb. 8) Thespians be aware! The Push Festival is here! It's probably the most important performing arts festival of the year, and a perfect excuse to miss an episode of Heroes. Some highlights are the amazing show Billy Twinkle by the world's most famous puppet theatre artist Ronnie Burkett, and the Japanese show Five Days in March by the renowned Chelftisch Theatre Company.

5. Gallery openings! Yesterday, Catriona Jeffries Gallery opened a show by Gareth Moore (Jan. 15-Feb. 14). Then, the Cineworks Independent Filmmakers Society opened the screeing of The Soft Revolution at the Interurban Gallery (located at 1 East Hastings). Both are a must see! I went to the The Soft Revolution yesterday and it's an impressive project that breaches the boundaries of linear narrative in cinema by allowing the viewers to interact with the film. There are three screens and two control panels where users can press buttons to select which character comes into play, giving the viewer a feeling of control over the story.

6. (Feb. 1-Mar. 21) If you don't mind going all the way to Surrey, the Surrey Art Gallery is opening Uneasy Beauty, an amazing Edward Burtynsky show! You should NOT miss this exhibit! Apart from the awe inspiring beauty of his work, Burtynsky has become such an important voice for sustainability that in 2005 he earned the TED Prize (click to see his profile and his acceptance speech). This led to the release of his documentary Manufactured Landscapes, which was shown at the Sundance and Toronto film festivals. He is also involved in Worldchanging, the foremost online sustainability community. Did I convince you?

Enjoy.

I heart Vancouver

This city is covered in fog and I'm ecstatic! Although most people wish it went away, I can't help but love the way it turns the whole city into a David Lynch movie set. And although I once said "don't photograph landscapes", this fog is the perfect excuse for a photo aficionado like myself to put on my tights and wander around the city in my bike shooting this:

Top 5 Inauguration Requests

After watching tons of live feeds and live coverage and live blogging and live almost anything you can think of about the Presidential Inauguration, I can only say a big "clap, clap, clap!" to the US for finally letting a non-cowboy inhabit the White House. It was way overdue.

Now, my atheist inner self is begging for me to ask what the hell was all that show with the reverends? The whole day felt like the anointment of a Feudal Lord with all those blessings and the Bible oath and all that jazz. Weird. (gave me the chills, really)

And last but not least, here is my list of Top 5 requests to Obama. They need to be addressed ASAP:

5. Kindly invite those Wall Street punks to Camp Guantanamo.
4. Trade in the 6 ton Cadillac limo for an electric car (I suppose you could get a magnetic bullet shield).
3. Promise not to say "God Bless America" ever again.
2. Tell Hillary to forever shut up with her "this one time, in the Oval Office" stories.
1. Give a TiVo subscription to Ted Kennedy so he can at least watch a replay of the Inauguration Parade.

Yes we did!

(or the Presidential Orange Mocha Frappuccino.)



(I got this from a feminist blog...but I lost the link!)

The most sophisticated piece of technology you will ever pee on

What to do, what to do?

Today I'm applying to Grad School at various Canadian universities. After discussing the option o f a combined MA in International Relations and a Juris Doctor degree, my friend Olivia (who holds a perfect record of figuring me out) looked at me in the eye and said:

"I don't understand why you keep on going after these areas that you obviously don't want to go into!! Why don't you just settle for things you actually like instead of taking a shot at things that you think you may find a bit interesting??"

Amen.

Jantonia

&#$%!! Calderón

Qué lindo. Nuestro Presidente (sí el que representa a TODOS los mexicanos, no sólo a los fantáticos religiosos) hincado ante la Iglesia Católica. Hincado antes las presiones de la iglesia, en actitud de sumisión hacia sus directrices. El Presidente, como figura pública y política, líder de un estado LAICO, no tiene por qué rendirle honores a ninguna autoridad eclesiástica, porque implica que su poder y sus decisiones están supeditadas a las de una autoridad "superior". (Nótese que Dios NO estaba en las boletas electorales.)

Gracias al PAN por mantenernos en el obscurantismo.

(La foto es del Sexto Encuentro Mundial de las Familias, evento organizado por el Vaticano, donde en la inauguración de ayer se leyó el mensaje de Benedicto XVI, quien pidió una educación más "integral". Supongo que con "integral" quiso decir que se enseñe religión, o por lo menos valores morales católicos en las escuelas públicas de México. Qué horror.)

Get a job, sir!

And today I realized that now that school is done, I have to find a job. Which leads me to think about what I want to work in, which means I should ideally know what I want to do in life. But today that only leads to a blank screen...and to the fourth wave of my identity crisis!

Any suggestions?

Chilangueadas

Para mi prima Mary

Después de despotricar contra el DF y enojar a más de un par de lectores, ahora me toca hacer un recuento de mis dias de visita en México. Como hoy no traigo ganas de generar suspenso, de una vez les digo que el saldo de mi vacación fue positivo, MUY positivo. Supongo que caí en la típica trampa periodística de sólo reportar sobre lo malo y omitir dedicarle el mismo tiempo a platicar sobre lo bueno. No lo voy a justificar con la excusa amarillista de "lo malo vende" diciendo que el escándalo me genera más hits. Más bien, lo negativo enoja, y el enojo me lleva a actuar...en este caso a escribir. Como le he dicho a un par de ex-novias, no eres tú, soy yo.

Ayer, mientras mi avión atravesaba una masa de nubes sobre el estado de Oregon, me vino un torrente de flashbacks sobre este mes que estuve en México. Primero me vino mi familia, en todos colores y formas, desde la cena de pre-Navidad en casa de Fernando y Carmina, hasta la alberca en Vallarta y el año nuevo con Javier y los McGregor. Luego hice una pausa en mis papás, en las docenas de momentos divertidos que pasamos y que hoy me hacen extrañarlos y entender que, aunque nunca dejan de estar en mi mente, su presencia física es insustituible. Luego llegó Loren, mi hermanita querida, mi cómplice y confesora, my non erotic soul mate. Ella me hace falta todos los dias, para platicar y reirnos, para hechar maratón de citas de películas (Dumb & Dumber sigue siendo la preferida), para hablar de mi gata Renée, para simplemente ser.

Y luego llegaron, por supuesto, mis amig@s. Disfruté tanto ver a tod@s y cada un@ de ell@s que hasta cambié mi vuelo para regresarme una semana después. Desde las guitarras en San Pancho, la visita a la mezcaleria, los museos, la pista de hielo del Zócalo, y la clásica fiesta de Boti, no puedo pensar en una visita más completa y divertida. (Tipo, nunca cambien, valen mil).

El avión salió de las nubes y la voz del piloto anunciando el aterrizaje interrumpió mi flashback. Entendí entonces que aunque viva lejos y me encante la vida en Vancouver, hay una parte de mi que nunca se va de mi querido México. A pesar de lo estresante de la ciudad, este es mi país y esta es mi gente. Soy totalmente DF.

El Pinche DF, vol. 2

Hoy mi mamá descubrió que le clonaron su tarjeta de débito y le vaciaron su cuenta de ahorros. TODOS sus ahorros. Sus meses y meses de trabajo. El aguinaldo.

La vi llorar de coraje, sus lágrimas tenían color de chinga tu madre.

La historia es la siguiente: usó su tarjeta BANCOMER para sacar dinero de un cajero en noviembre, y desde ese día le empezaron a drenar su cuenta, con cargos y retiros diarios. Mi mamá suele hacer un retiro a la semana, uno solo, para ir a Superama...lo lleva haciendo así durante años. Y los idiotas de BANCOMER no tuvieron la inteligencia para detectar una anomalía cuando empezaron a aparecer cargos enormes, consecutivos, y diario! Le estuvieron drenando su cuenta durante 42 dias.

Aparentmente, ahora se pueden clonar las tarjetas de débito desde el cajero automático. Lo más frustrante es que en BANCOMER le dijeron que no es problema de ellos y no le pueden regresar su dinero. Todos sus ahorros. Sus meses y meses de trabajo. El aguinaldo.