Archive for July 19, 2009

Murder City Sparrows

By Emma Woolley

Murder City Sparrows is a band assembled as randomly as their name. “It started out as a singer-songwriter thing that Jay was doing and he needed players to do a record,” says the band’s drummer, Lanny. “So the engineer at the studio called Doc and myself to come in and do it. We got a copy of the songs of Jay singing with an acoustic guitar, came up with parts and arrangements, and just started working on the record. Everyone was playing really well together so then Jay said, ‘well, I’m gonna need a band.’”

Natives of Edmonton, the members intended to call the album Murder City Sparrows, a title that pays homage to the city’s criminal notoriety and Charles Bukowski’s publishing house, Black Sparrow Press. When the album was finished, however, it was obvious that it was no singer-songwriter album — they sounded like a band. Their producer, Gordie Johnson (of Grady/Big Sugar fame), encouraged them to drop “The Jay Murphy Band” name for one reflective of their sound. Adopting the album’s title as their name, the four musicians developed a powerful brand of rock’n'roll without over-production. “We subscribe to the ethic that if you can’t play it live, you shouldn’t record it,” says bassist and Danforth resident Doc de Groot. “I can’t switch from bass to lap steel in a quarter note and then get back to my bass — so it became, for all of us, about making something that we can put on a record and then reproduce live, convincingly, without anything missing.”

As a self-proclaimed live band, Murder City Sparrows records off the floor to properly translate the energy of playing together — and it’s that raw passion that makes their self-titled debut stand out. Recorded at Pedernales, Willie Nelson’s legendary studio in Austin, Texas, the album earned Murder City Sparrows a “Band of the Month” feature with Sonic 102.9, an Edmonton alternative rock station. The single stayed in high rotation for several months and started getting radio play across the country. As their popularity grew, the band did several tours of Western Canada and decided to move from Edmonton to Toronto. “Eventually it got to the point that we were in Toronto so much anyways,” says Doc.

During this time, Murder City Sparrows wrote a new album, Dead Horse Disco, which departs from the dark, political tone of the first and builds on a more wholesome rock sound. “We’re all — with the exception of Mike — small-town kids,” says Lanny. “So I was like, let’s write a record about small towns: doing stupid stuff, getting in shit, the girls we liked, and just have a fun record.”

The title comes from what Doc calls last winter’s “driving tour from hell.” “We toured from the end of November until March…and it was literally blizzards everyday,” explains Lanny. While braving highways littered with abandoned semis, Mike and Jay noticed that the overturned trailers looked like big dead horses. “And some of the songs now, because they’re more fun, have kind of a dance-y, groovy feel,” says Lanny. “So. Dead Horse Disco.”

Irene Savatti

By Cynthia Lessard

While glancing past the authentically retro, red vinyl chairs in the cozy barbershop, I notice a bulletin board hanging in the corner. It is filled with pictures, the edges of some curled with age and faded over time. The photos capture candid moments, first haircuts, and the passing from childhood to adolescence. It is not unusual to see snapshots such as these in offices or at work desks, as many display family photos to comfort them through the working day. However, these pictures are not of stylist and co-owner Irene Savatti’s family, they are images of people who have come through her shop — her “extended family”: her friends and neighbours — her clients.

Lord Byron Hair Styling for Men, located on the corner of Danforth and Logan, acts not only as a place where you can go and get a haircut, but it is also a gathering place for family and friends. The barbershop, which caters mostly to men, has been in the same location for 27 years. Irene joined her father, the barbershop’s owner, 22 years ago, to help him manage the business. She remembers the days when Lord Byron’s didn’t even book appointments. It was a first-come, first-cut barbershop back then; a trip to Lord Byron’s was more of an excursion than a chore, as neighbours would drink coffee and talk for hours while waiting for their turn in the chair. Over the past two decades, much has changed in the area, but Lord Byron’s remains, and continues to serve the Danforth.

Irene manages the shop on her own, with help from family. She has watched clients grow up and raise children of their own. Many of these children also receive haircuts from Irene. Work is busy, but Irene has learned to manage: “I make sure to take two days off every week — Sunday and Monday…and I never cut hair at home.” I ask her if she has ever thought of hiring an assistant to help lighten the workload, but she says she could never do it. “This place is an extension of my family, my home. I couldn’t bring someone else in unless they were family.” She is protective of Lord Byron’s and its reputation in the neighbourhood. She has seen many barbershops close down or shift their focus to women’s hairstyling, which is far more lucrative.

Irene describes her type of business as a “dying breed,” but insists that the shop is not going anywhere. A man walks in while I am talking with her. She knows his name and the two converse in Greek. Lord Byron’s acts as more than a business to Irene — it is her home and her clients are family. “This is my street,” Irene tells me. But I think the street is her. She exemplifies what makes the Danforth unique and wonderful. In a city as big as Toronto, it is a treasure to find a place where people remember your name.

Jeremy Smith

By Julia Chanter

Great ideas frequently come from academics in fine research institutions, but rarely are such ideas as entertaining and innovative as the Driftwood Theatre Company. The idea took root when Jeremy Smith asked himself a question that haunts many scholars during theatre history lectures at Queen’s University: what on earth am I going to do this summer?

Jeremy came up with the following solution: get some friends together, produce A Midsummer Night’s Dream in Kingston’s City Park, and see what happens. With the help of a few of his fellow students and a single microphone, he successfully produced Shakespeare’s comedy for local critics of all ages. Remarkably, the production turned a profit from the pay-what-you-can tickets. If an inaugural performance can be considered a first draft, then one year later, after his graduation, Jeremy submitted his thesis: the Driftwood Theatre Company.

Proposed in 1994, the company was to be Jeremy’s opportunity to pursue his “learning unchecked.” He likens the director’s role to that of a tour guide: “He knows where we need to go but he’s not the only one taking that journey; he is the funnel through which everything moves.” It’s an apt statement: Jeremy is the founder, Artistic Director, General Manager, and primary contact for the company. When he graduated from university Jeremy decided that “Driftwood would be my school,” where he would be both student and teacher.

The curriculum is gruelling; every summer the Driftwood Theatre Company travels across Ontario performing Shakespeare in parks for audiences on picnic blankets and lawn chairs, who enjoy the show on a by-donation basis. The sets are simple enough to be built and rebuilt at every new venue. And Jeremy’s passion for music means a good singing voice is a prerequisite for all Driftwood actors.

The logistics of moving musical instruments from location to location prevents any sophisticated accompaniment, and so everything is sung a cappella. “A cappella suits Driftwood very well,” says Smith. “We depend on our actors, and so we encourage them to use every faculty that they have.” He pauses before saying, “there is nothing more incredible than the human voice.”

He hires two composers every year, Kevin Fox and Tom Lillington, to write music for Shakespeare’s lyrics or to create original scores for the productions. Last year’s production of Much Ado About Nothing was set in post–World War I Canada, so the play featured 1920s jazz tunes and original scores. Even in the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet, Jeremy featured an original score as a technique to signal the passage of time in the play.

Bad weather can pose a challenge to the company, although host cities have sometimes been kind enough to offer an alternative venue. On one rainy night, fairies danced and serenaded Titania as she lay on a staircase in an old house in Port Hope. Another evening, Romeo and Tybalt dropped their gloves at the local hockey arena during Romeo and Juliet. The arena’s scoreboard kept track of the Montagues’ and the Capulets’ feud, and the penalty box housed the actors’ change rooms. Romeo got two minutes for slaying.

Jeremy has taken an interdisciplinary approach to his craft, honing his talents outside of the Driftwood school. He spent time as a general management intern at CanStage, production manager at the Canadian Children’s Opera Choir, a scenic painter for the National Ballet of Canada and the Tarragon Theatre, director at Sansanus Productions, and director for the a cappella group, Cadence. After spending time in the business, he knows artists cannot separate art from commerce, especially now and in Canada. “Artists should be aware of the value and costs of their work,” he says. “To be otherwise is irresponsible and selfish.”

When asked about his goals for Driftwood, Jeremy traces a circle with two fingers on the table as if to signify a continuous cycle. “I’m interested in the concept of ‘company,’ and matching emerging artists with veterans.” To keep up that unique dynamic that Driftwood strives for, Jeremy is always growing and always challenging himself and his company. This summer, he plans for a repertory season, where the same cast will perform King Lear one night and The Comedy of Errors the next. He adds: “I just like to tell stories. It doesn’t matter if it’s Tom Stoppard or Shakespeare; it’s all about the telling and re-telling. It’s that simple.”

Jennifer Brewer

By Canaan Chu

Singer-songwriter Jennifer Brewer performs regularly at The Old Nick, a bar steps from Broadview station. Every Tuesday night, Brewer hosts an open stage, where she plays a selection of her songs before inviting others to perform. The stage, at the front of the bar, can be seen through the restaurant windows so passersby, too, can watch the show. Brewer doesn’t mind if the audience inside is eating while she plays, or even if they’re only half listening to her performance, because she enjoys the bar’s casual atmosphere. However, there is no lack of enthusiasm for music at The Old Nick, especially from the people who work there. “You can tell the people here really love music,” says Brewer.

To experience the music for myself, I went to see Brewer perform at the start of an open-stage night. That night, Brewer was accompanied by a percussionist, and started off her set with the song, “Tongue-tied.” Coincidentally, “Tongue-tied” is also the first song she has finished recording for her debut album. The drummer, Jason, also doubles as her producer. He approached Brewer after an open-stage night, and the two have been collaborating ever since. Brewer writes the songs with her guitar, and Jason, who has a recording studio in his apartment, fills in the drum parts afterwards. The actual recording space is set up in a shed in Jason’s backyard and is warmed by space heaters. Brewer plays guitar in the shed, while Jason monitors her progress from a soundboard inside his apartment. They have been working on Brewer’s debut album, entitled Songs I Played In Your Room, since June of 2008.

While listening to her on stage, it does not take long to notice that all of Brewer’s songs deal with the themes of love and loss. “A singer-songwriter should play what they know,” Brewer says. She considers herself a singer-songwriter of the folk music tradition, and her musical influences include heavyweight folk musicians, such as James Taylor. She confesses, however, that Cyndi Lauper’s She’s So Unusual was the first album she ever purchased. She only began teaching herself how to play the guitar when she was twenty-three. Despite being a late-comer to the music scene, Brewer commands a lot of stage presence with both her voice and instrument.

Brewer is a native of Fredericton, New Brunswick. She came to Toronto in 1997 to study theatre at Humber College. Three years later, Brewer returned to her hometown after deciding she no longer wanted to become an actress. She then came back to Toronto in 2003 to pursue a music career and heard about the open-stage night at The Old Nick through a college friend. Following her initial performances at The Old Nick, Brewer would be invited back repeatedly, and has since become a regular act. “I remember my first performance,” Brewer says, beaming. “It was July 5 — my best friend’s birthday.” When I ask her if she has ever had any bad performances, she reveals that she once attempted to cover Norah Jones’s song “Turn Me On;” she accidentally replaced the lyric “like a school kid waiting for the spring,” with “like a school kid in a dark room,” which turned the hopeful song incredibly dark.

Brewer now divides her time between working at the East Delta Hotel, hanging out with her friends at The Old Nick, and working on her music.

Alice Klein

By Rachel Horner

The importance and influence of NOW Magazine on Toronto’s cultural and political landscape is a testament to co-founder Alice Klein’s ambition. Since helping to establish the ever-popular weekly newspaper, Toronto’s first free alternative press, Klein has steadily built a name for herself as a social activist, media mogul, and filmmaker.

Born in New York City, Alice Klein came to Toronto with her parents who had fled wartime Europe. She became involved in politics and social justice causes at an early age, eventually graduating with a degree in social history from the University of Toronto. Klein was first published in 1971 — a leftist and feminist piece entitled “The Velvet Fist.”

In 1981, Klein saw a need for an alternative press that would cover the cultural and social movements that were mostly being ignored by the mainstream media. With the Trudeau-era focus on finding a specific Canadian brand of culture, many underground artists were being neglected in favour of more high-profile, government-sponsored events, leaving the grassroots in a cultural hinterland. As Klein puts it, “We didn’t see exciting local culture covered in the mainstream media.”

Klein and her partner, Michael Hollett, created an accessible form of media that featured issues at the forefront of politics and culture — a space where they and their peers could dissent, create, and get the word out about events, people, and ideas outside of the mainstream. Toronto could now be more than just the National Ballet or City Hall — it could be a city with layers.

When asked about how NOW would fare during the current economic recession, Klein responds diplomatically, citing that as a business, NOW will see hard times. It’s a familiar challenge: it was, after all, a 22 percent interest-rate climate when Klein and Hollett founded the weekly during an earlier recession. When probed further, Klein reveals that the effects of the music industry’s lacklustre economic performance can be felt in the independent media; the advertising dollars that were coming from the music sector are dwindling. Klein chuckles and points out that the nature of the magazine business is something of a constant economic struggle, the newspaper’s established reputation aside. “There are no laurels in publishing,” she notes. Despite dwindling ad sales, Klein is optimistic that the recession will offer a new opportunity for an economic and social order that is more just.

NOW Magazine has competitors for advertising such as EYE Weekly and Metro, but Klein doesn’t seem worried. With podcasts, websites, social networking groups, and more to come, the evolution of NOW into a multimedia entity seems like a natural progression for the nearly thirty-year-old publication with a focus on freedom of expression and social justice. The era of Web 2.0 will surely bring exciting things, both online and for print, from the folks at NOW, and in Klein’s words, “it is a creation every week.”

Klein’s stance on civil liberties is unambiguous when it comes to her advocacy of freedom of the press and freedom of expression; she is a board member of Canadian Journalists for Free Expression (CJFE). CJFE is a non-governmental organization, supported by journalists and sympathizers, that is responsible for providing legal assistance to journalists who find themselves in socially oppressive circumstances. Klein also sits on the board of the Toronto Arts Council, which provides funding for arts projects and programs all over the city, further ensuring that independent art and culture production are given a fighting chance.

In 2007, Klein released her film, The Call of the Hummingbird, which was shown at festivals in Europe, North America, Latin America, Toronto’s HOTDOCS festival, and Mexico City’s DOCSDF; it was universally well received. The film, in brief, is about a colony of people that sets out to change the world — for the better — in a very limited amount of time. Although she is not currently working on any films, Klein hopes to work on more projects in the near future.

For now, to ensure that the future is reshaped in an equitable and responsible fashion, Klein has put her burgeoning career as a filmmaker on temporary hiatus so she can focus on what is going on in Ottawa. Klein’s autumn of 2008 was devoted to preventing a Conservative Party majority and rooting for the proposed coalition government. Klein has also been a frequent contributor to rabble.ca where she makes no bones about her left-leaning political persuasions and her criticisms of the Harper government.

One of the rallying cries Klein sent out was in the form of an activist network called voteforenvironment.ca. The purpose of the organization is to encourage strategic, ecologically minded voting. The site encourages voters to speak directly to their MPs about their environmental concerns, and to bring together those who see the Conservative Party as a threat to progressive Canadian environmental policy.

Klein also works with Green Enterprise Toronto. GET provides a network and resources for businesses seeking to decrease their eco-footprint and who wish to make sustainability a part of their business plan — putting people and environment before profit.