tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63528737275874169542024-03-05T23:12:21.718-05:00No es sino mi vidaLeslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.comBlogger172125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-11036864002637440502023-02-18T11:15:00.011-05:002023-02-18T13:44:58.295-05:00Argentina Travel Tips 2022<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQLE_MGRCn2KI5A4O_XUIx5EPe5_5jnc1ma8kr-xpKsDEdVRrkzDDfCA4x70Pd9xlRef4h73VuPXMktfyRK2OpdLGgsdPhwocvriS14iMwk0V7q5IppTXGcWWTcLiOlmQcGkYF2i9v7qqIqPDiXa7EkEggTOYnc8D7KngWv29aTolmiTAPfN4kI2aRBg/s656/Rooftop%20tango2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="615" data-original-width="656" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQLE_MGRCn2KI5A4O_XUIx5EPe5_5jnc1ma8kr-xpKsDEdVRrkzDDfCA4x70Pd9xlRef4h73VuPXMktfyRK2OpdLGgsdPhwocvriS14iMwk0V7q5IppTXGcWWTcLiOlmQcGkYF2i9v7qqIqPDiXa7EkEggTOYnc8D7KngWv29aTolmiTAPfN4kI2aRBg/s320/Rooftop%20tango2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 14.0pt;">We went to Argentina twice in 2022. First in March, just
as the country was opening up again to tourism. And then, because we loved it
so much, we went again in November-December. Every time I have been there, I've ended up chatting with people and becoming friends. It's the people who really make visiting this country a wonderful experience!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Here are our top travel tips for
Argentina.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Language & General
Info</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You will find people who speak English, but if you’re off
the beaten track it might be complicated. In Argentina things can be “complicated”
and require extended discussions to resolve.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Carry a photocopy of your passport with you at all times.
This is your identity document and you might be asked for it at any time,
including at the grocery store when they want to give you the “senior’s
discount!”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Argentine toilet paper is rough. If you have a brand that
you like, bring your rolls with you as you travel. On the plus side, most
bathrooms have bidets.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Currency Exchange<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">(This
info will cut your costs in half</i></span></b><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">.)<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Argentina has two exchange rates: the official bank rate
and the informal/blackmarket rate known as the “blue dollar.”See </span><a href="https://bluedollar.net/"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://bluedollar.net/</span></a><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> to compare the rates.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Credit cards<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> I</o:p></span><span>f you use a foreign credit card or take cash out at an
ATM, these transactions will be exchanged at the official and you will get half
the amount of pesos that you would receive if you had used the blue rate.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">In November 2022, the Argentine government announced that
it would bring the official exchange rate in line with the blue rate for
foreign credit card transactions. This had not been enacted while we were
there. Test the real exchange rate by making a small purchase with your credit
card and then checking online to see how much you were charged in Canadian
dollars.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The most economical way to live in Argentina is to acquire
cash at the blue dollar rate (see below) and pay for everything in cash. This
will cut your costs by 50%.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Getting cash<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Western Union (WU)</span></b><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> gives you a rate very close to the blue rate. Most
Canadian banks offer the ability to do Western Union transfer from their online
banking applications, or you can download the WU app to your device. You can
then send a Western Union transfer to yourself periodically as you need it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Then show up at a WU office in Argentina with your
passport and collect the cash.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There may be maximum amount you can transfer by Western
Union each day. When we were there was a government-imposed maximum of $105,000
pesos (about $380 CAN) per day. Maybe you can send more, but we never tested
it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Some vendors or travel agents accept WU transfers
directly. If you need to make a purchase and don’t have enough cash, ask if
they will accept a WU transfer to a bank account.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Important Caveats:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium; text-indent: -18pt;">If your bank has
two-factor authentication, make sure that you can receive a text message on
your phone in a foreign country, or else disable two-factor authentication.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">You must show the
transaction number and your passport to pick up the cash.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Check the opening
hours of the destination WU outlet before going there. Many WU outlets operate
inside stores or post office branches (Correo Argentino).<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The WU outlet at the
airport in Buenos Aires operates inside the branch of CORREO ARGENTINO and is
closed Saturday and Sunday, and despite the fact that the website says that
this branch closes at 5:00 p.m., the day that we arrived it closed at 3:00 p.m.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Smaller WU outlets do
not always have enough cash on hand to be able to pay out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Others might only
have small bills so they might hand you huge wads of low denomination cash
(imagine receiving $400 in bills that are equivalent to 25 cents each.
Seriously, this happened to us…and nobody blinks an eye when you pay with these
wads of cash). Carry a bag into which you can stuff cash!<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">These limitations are
more prevalent in smaller cities, so make sure that you have enough cash on
hand. <o:p></o:p></span></span></li></ul><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Tipping</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span>Tipping is appreciated but not always expected. A tip of
10% is considered generous.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Paying in cash</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Pretty much everywhere you will get a better price when
paying in cash, versus a credit card, because vendors want to avoid credit card
fees (and probably avoid taxes). Remember to always ask for the cash price
(precio por pagar en efectivo).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Phone Service<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The easiest way to get phone service and data is by
buying a pre-activated Claro SIM card from a convenience store (kiosko). You
put the pre-activated card into your phone and then add a money top-up
(recarga). Claro will send you a text message confirming the balance on your
phone and offering you different data packs (X GBs for Y number of days). If
your balance is not enough to buy the data pack that you want, pay for an
additional top-up (recarga) right away. Once you have enough balance, you can
select your data pack.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">DO NOT go to a Claro dealer to do this. They will require
you to have a national ID number and it will be complicated.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Not every kiosko has these cards or can do this
transaction. Some have limits on the amount they can give you for a top-up. You
might need to ask around a bit.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Keywords</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">una tarjeta Claro preactivada</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">una recarga de xx pesos.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Whatsapp<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Everyone and many businesses use whatsapp! You will need
it to make restaurant reservations and to call taxis, etc. Install it on your
phone and get it working before you go to Argentina, as your phone number has
to be working when you install it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Getting around Buenos Aires<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">From the airport</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span>There is a Taxi stand inside the terminal, near the exit,
where you give them the address of your destination and they will give you a
slip with the official fare. Pay the driver in pesos or with a credit card. This
fare will take into account number of passengers and bags. Taxi drivers do not
expect to be tipped.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Public Transit<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Public transit is excellent in Buenos Aires.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium; text-indent: -18pt;">You need a Sube card,
which can be purchased at a convenience store (kiosko). Multiple people can
travel on one card; you swipe it for each person. You might have to check
several kiosks to find a Sube card.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The bus fare depends
on how far you are going. When you get on a bus, you have to tell the driver
the cross street where you are getting off. Use Google maps to figure this out.
It takes a little time to get used to doing this! <o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Google maps works
pretty well for bus and subway (Subte) routes, right down to providing the
street address where the bus stop is located.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Transitapp is
reportedly also good (and better for GPS location of busses). We didn’t try it
in Argentina.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li></ul><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Uber</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Uber drivers prefer to be paid in cash (not what we
normally expect). Go into settings and look for the option to pay by cash
instead of credit card. Uber is not cheaper than taxis but is considered safer.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Be prepared to have Uber drivers cancel on you even after
they have confirmed pickup. This happened to us frequently.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Be prepared that they might message you (in Spanish) to
confirm that you are ready, with pickup details, to ask how many passengers, to
ask if you are paying in cash.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Taxis</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Taxis can be hailed on the street, or you can get the
number of a taxi company and call for a taxi.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We used Taxiezeiza to book a taxi to the airport: + 54
911 4090 8580.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">I was warned that taxis are not safe (ie, reports of
being mugged by the drivers of taxis hailed on the street). We did not have any
bad experiences with taxis.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Domestic Flights<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You cannot book a flight with Aerolineas Argentinas
online because you need at national ID card number and you have to pay with a credit
card at the official exchange rate.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">You can, however, book an AA flight through Expedia and
other revendors. Hot tip: Set your location as Argentina and search in Spanish
to get the Argentinean rate (Aerolineas has a higher rate for foreigners than
for residents).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Or you can go to a travel agent, have them book flights
for you at the domestic rate and pay in cash. We used the travel agency Almundo,
which meant taking a huge stack of pesos into the travel agency.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Almundo Recoleta. Av. Santa Fe 1608. Tel.</span><span> </span><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">0810-220-1031 (Extension interno 177).</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Jonatan at the Recoleta branch was our travel agent. +54
911 5346 2920<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Almundo.com.ar<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Search flights, prices, etc. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Buenos Aires Lodgings<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We used Airbnb and were overall happy with the places we
stayed. Prices were reasonable at CA$45 to $100 per night.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Stay in the neighbourhoods near the sites that you want
to visit. Mostly likely Palermo, Recoleta, maybe San Telmo. We stayed in
Balvanera twice because we loved our Airbnb, but the neighborhood was not
great.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Restaurants<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">At high end restaurants, expect to pay about CA$25 per
person, including wine and dessert. Make reservations at high-end restaurants.
As well as the famous beef, Argentine cuisine has lots of Spanish, Italian and
German influences. You will see a lot of milanesa (veal schnitzel) and suprema
(chicken schnitzel). Side dishes are almost always potatoes (French fries or
mashed) and winter squash purée.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span>The best restaurants we ate at in Buenos Aires:</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;">Don Julio, Guatemala
4699, Palermo. We ate there in March just as tourism has reopened. Now it is
pretty much impossible to get a reservation. Your best bet is to show up early
and wait in line for a table.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">La Cabrera, José A.
Cabrera 5938, Palermo. Now having the same reservation problem as above. Of the
two, we preferred Don Julio.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">La Brigada, Estados
Unidos 465, San Telmo. This restaurant will famously cut your bife de chorizo
with a spoon! We were able to get a table as a walk-in.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">El Club del Progreso,
Sarmiento 1334, Centro. Beautiful dining room, wonderful meal. Betina gives
tours of the history of the club. It’s an amazing place with an amazing history<o:p></o:p></span></span></li></ul><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span>Surprisingly Argentine beef is usually cooked to medium
(término medio or al punto). If you prefer your steak medium rare, ask to have
it “sangrante” and be prepared to send it back if it is overdone.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Bife de chorizo = rib steak. This is considered the best
and most flavourful cut.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Lomo = tenderloin. A more tender cut, but it does not
have the same rich flavour.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Other Restaurants
that we enjoyed</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;">La Gran Taberna, Combate
de los Pozoz 95, Congreso. Spanish dishes and seafood are the specialities. I
had one of the best seafood stews of my life there (cazuela de mariscos). You
will be given an enormous amount of food.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">El Imparcial, Av.
Hipólito Yrigoyen 1201, Congreso. Spanish. We went with a group of friends and
shared a paella, then ordered 8 desserts that we shared around the table. My
favourite was zapallo en almíbar (winter squash cooked in syrup with a bit of
bicarbonate of soda, which gives it a crunchy texture. It was surprising and delicious.)<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Invernadero,</span> <span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Agüero 2502, Recoleta. A lovely tapas and cocktails spot
tucked in the shadow of the National Library.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Perón Perón,
Lavalleja 1388, Palermo. Charming and quirky place where everyone knows the
Peronist anthem (and sings it heartily a few times over the course of the
evening). A carafe of house wine is a pinguino that comes in a little ceramic
penguin jug.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">La Ferneteria,</span><span>
</span><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Serrano 1349, attached to the Museo de Bellas
Artes. The name refers to Fernet, a bitter herbal liqueur that Argentines drink
mixed with Coca cola. It’s an acquired taste. I had a salad that was an
explosion of flavour in every bite (on the menu, it was the one with the curry
vinaigrette). Visit when you go to the Bellas Artes museum.</span></span></li></ul><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;">If you eat near the
Recoleta cemeterio, the restaurants along Pres. Roberto Ortiz are better than
the ones on the Vicente López side. We ate at La Parolaccia (Italian), Pres
Roberto Ortiz 1865 and it was excellent.</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Parrilla El Litoral.
Moreno 2201, Congreso. This is a tiny hole in the wall kind of place, but it
was just down the street from out Airbnb and we loved it. Have the bife de
chorizo and the bondiola (grilled pork). If you go to El Litoral, also visit
the nearby wine store El Franjamar, Moreno 2291. Owner Mariano gives great
recommendations and the wines are reasonably priced. Tell Mariano that we sent
you. <o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Bellagamba, Rivadavia
2138, Congreso. Great ambiance and lunch specials. You are given a menu, then you
have to go place your order and pay at the cash. Beside the cash you can pick
out your beverages, desserts, etc. They then give you a number and bring the meal
to your table. The florentina was the best dish on the menu.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li></ul><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span>And of course there are the famous coffee shops and
cafés:</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo4; text-indent: -18pt;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Café Tortoni, Av. De
Mayo 825, Congreso. It’s nice. It’s famous. It’s full of tourists. Go see it
but don’t wait if there’s a line. There are plenty of other places for coffee
or a drink in Buenos Aires.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Café de los Angelitos,
Rivadiavia 2100. This was a home base for tango composer and singer Carlos
Gardel. The café was abandoned but has been restored. It’s a nice little café
for a bite or a drink. The tango and dinner show is pricey. Gardel’s first home
in Buenos Aires is around the corner at Rincón 137.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li></ul><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Bares Notables</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b><span>In the older parts of town there are “bodegas.” These
used to be small general stores that have been restored as bars and are known
as “bares notables”, which are kind of like officially designated heritage
sites. Drink in as many of them as possible. Order their specialty cocktail and
be surprised. You’re welcome!</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Things To Do and See<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span><b>Museums, etc.</b></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; text-indent: -18pt;">Museo Nacional de
Bellas Artes, Av. Pres. Figueroa 2280 (resto. La Ferneteria), Recoleta</span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Biblioteca Nacional <o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Un Cafٞé con Perón,
Austria 2631, Recoleta. A little café attached to the Perón museum, beside the
National Library. The library was built on the location of the Peróns’ former
home. The café staff will give you a tour of the museum and research centre.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Floralis Genérica,
Giant metallic flower sculpture that used to open with the sun at dawn and
close at sunset (currently having mechanical problems). <o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Museo de Arte Latinoamerican
de Buenos Aires, Av. Pres. Figueroa 3415, Palermo. Rotating collections. Always
something interesting to see. <o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Museo Nacional de
Arte Decorativo, Libertador 1902) Museum on a former mansion, showcasing
beautiful period furniture. (their resto La Croque Madame is very good. <u>Reserve</u>)<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Museo Sito de Memoria
ESMA, Av. Del Libertador 8151. North. Museum to honor the memory of the people
who were abducted and disappeared during the years of the military junta. This
is the police compound where they were held and tortured. Currently only open
on weekends. Check website for updates. </span><a href="http://www.museositioesma.gob.ar/"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">http://www.museositioesma.gob.ar/</span></a><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The famous Recoleta
cemetery <o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Jardín Japonés<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Los Rosedales<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The Hop-on Hop-off Bus,
</span><a href="https://www.buenosairesbus.com/recorridos.php?lang=en"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://www.buenosairesbus.com/recorridos.php?lang=en</span></a><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>is not a bad idea
for getting an idea of the city’s layout. Get the two-day ticket, you’ll need
it. Buy it in cash at the ticket booth on Pres, Manuel Quintana 1763, near the
Recoleta Cemetery. They give you plug-in earphones but the cord is not long
enough to reach the outlet in the front window seat, so having your own long
cord earphones is an advantage. Click on the stops for descriptions and to find
out where the bus stop is located. <o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Walking tours. We did
a paid walking tour with Viator. It was terrible. I’d try a free walking tour
next time. As the city is so big, most tours stick to just one area.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li></ul><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Tango Dancing<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The best source to find out about tango dance events
(milongas) is the website and app Hoy Milonga</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://www.hoy-milonga.com/buenos-aires/en"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://www.hoy-milonga.com/buenos-aires/en</span></a><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The birthplace of tango was in La Boca and the most
famous street in the area is the Caminito. The area is colourful. The
corrugated tin shacks have been restored. They were always brightly painted,
with leftover ships’ paint. But the area itself is just so overrun with
tourists that it is no fun to visit, unless really bad weather or a World Cup
game is keeping people away. Go see it, but keep your expectations low.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There is tango everywhere, from the street to the
theatre. Keep some small bills in your pocket to tip street performers. I never
take my wallet out in public (a leftover from my Colombia days) and watch out
for pickpockets.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Our tango instructor was Edgardo Fernández Sesma (contact info available on request).
His English is rudimentary but he teaches to all levels and abilities and is
very involved in the Queer tango scene. About CA$15 for a private lesson and
he comes to you; it's less if you go to his place in Recoleta for the lesson.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We never went to any of the famous tango dinner shows.
They are expensive (over $100/pp and you can see tango everywhere).</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Music<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Centro Cultural Kirchner, Sarmiento 151</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://www.cck.gob.ar/"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">www.cck.gob.ar</span></a><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Click on Agenda, Conciertos y actividades for a list of
upcoming concerts. Most events are free but ticketed.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span>You have to go online about a week ahead of time to book
tickets for events. When asked for your ID number, use your passport (numbers
only). The ID is eight digits long, so add two zeros to the end of your
passport number.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Futball (soccer)<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Live football tickets are expensive and very hard to get.
Find a sports bar, order some food and drink and cheer with the fans. Two bars
that we liked for sports:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l3 level1 lfo6; text-indent: -18pt;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Locos X El Futbol,
Gral. Las Heras 2101, Recoleta<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Pizza Lo+Hot, Gral.
Gregorio Aráoz de Lamadrid 801, La Boca<o:p></o:p></span></span></li></ul><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Polo <o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l7 level1 lfo7; text-indent: -18pt;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Polo season is
October-December.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Buy tickets at the
polo field box office on the day of the game.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Buy the cheapest
ticket available (which will be in the sun), and then stake out a table in the
field-side bar where you can sit in the shade and enjoy drinks and tapas while
watching the game. The cool drink among polo fans: Aperol spritz.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li></ul><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Feria de Mataderos Folk
market<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">There is a weekly flea market and handicraft market in the
Mataderos neighbourhood. When you get off the bus, you’ll see endless flea
market and low-end consumer goods and will wonder if you are in the right
place. Ask directions to the música folclórica which is by the handicraft
market, and food vendors. Folk dancing is hugely popular in Argentina and many
people know the traditional dances and come out to dance in the street. This
market was a find in terms of hanging out to enjoy the street entertainment and
I even bought some handicrafts!</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span>If you want to buy handicrafts as gifts for people back
home, the </span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">San Telmo</b><span> market is also a
good choice.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Side Trips<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Tigre</span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b><span>This fabulous day trip from Buenos Aires takes you to an
amazing little town in the delta in the Lujan River. It is accessible by
commuter train, which is worthwhile for the view of the suburbs surrounding
Buenos Aires. The train stations along the way have, charming cafés. The town
of Tigre has a handicraft market but the big draw is the boat tours through the
delta islands. A whole community lives in these islands, served by grocery
boats, police boats, school bus boats, etc. The boat tour gives the history of
the region and takes you through the delta. Highly recommended.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Iguazu Falls<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The falls are best viewed from the Brazil side. </span><a href="https://cataratasdoiguacu.com.br/"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://cataratasdoiguacu.com.br/</span></a></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Seriously, they are much better on the Brazilian side;
more water and fewer people.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Your entrance ticket includes the park bus. Don’t bother
with the “boat trip.” It’s expensive and doesn’t actually get you close to the
falls.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span>We hired a driver for the day to pick us up at our hotel on the Argentina side, take us across to Brazil for the day and then bring us back. </span><span>Cost was about CA$60 and it was well worth it. You can do both in one day, the falls in the morning and the birds in the afternoon. Driver contact info available on request.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Across from the entrance to the falls is the <b>Parque das
Aves</b>, </span><a href="https://www.parquedasaves.com.br/"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://www.parquedasaves.com.br/</span></a><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">This reserve park rehabilitates injured birds. It was
wonderful. We visited at the end of the day, after the crowds had thinned out.
The park says it closes at 4:30, but my recollection is that 4:30 is the last
entrance and that the park is open until 5 or 6. To be safe, go around 3:30. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p>A g</o:p></span><span>reat restaurant in Iguazu: La Rueda 1975, Av. Córdoba
28.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Patagonia<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">We visited two sites in Patagonia: El Calafate and
Ushuaia.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span>The first thing to know about Patagonia is that it is
pretty much always windy! </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span>Dress
accordingly.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">El Calafate<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">This is the place to see glaciers and icebergs.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When you take a taxi from the airport, get the taxi
company’s phone number. There are no buses in El Calafate.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The main strip is all of tour operators and restaurants. All
the tour operators offer pretty much the same things at the same prices.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The top tours in Calafate are:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo8; text-indent: -18pt;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Todos los Glaciares
tour. </span></span><span>This boat tour takes
you to see the Upsala, Spegazinni and Perrito Moreno glaciers. If you can only
do one glacier tour, do this one.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span>About
US$90.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Perrito Moreno
Glacier. </span></span><span>A bus tour to view
this spectacular glacier from the walkways on land. Perrito Moreno is
constantly growing and calving (dropping icebergs into the water). It is
breathtakingly impressive. There is a good chance that you will see it calve
while you are there.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Hiking in El Chaltén
(Mt. Fitz Roy). </span></span><span>This is a long day trip from
Calafate. If you’re interested in hiking, stay in El Chaltén as a base.</span></span></li></ul><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Other things to see in the town of Calafate:<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo8; text-indent: -18pt;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Reserva Laguna Nimez,
Av Costanera Presidente Nestor C Kirschner 2075. </span></span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/lagunanimez.elcalafate/"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://www.facebook.com/lagunanimez.elcalafate/</span></a> <span>This bird reserve was
one of my highlights in Patagonia. I thought we wouldn’t see many birds because
it was so windy….I was wrong! The reserve gives you a checklist with pics that
makes it easy to identify the birds that you’ll see. About US$1.30</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Centro de Interpretación
Histórica Calafate, Almirante G. Brown 1175. </span></span><a href="https://centrodeinterpretacionhistorica.negocio.site/"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://centrodeinterpretacionhistorica.negocio.site/</span></a> <span>A very interesting museum
about natural and social history of the region, including what happened to the
indigenous people of the region.</span></span></li></ul><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Lodging</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Cabañas Nevis, Av. del Libertador 1696. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://cabanasnevis.com/es/"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://cabanasnevis.com/es/</span></a><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">This is where we wish we had stayed. It was next door and
much nicer than our Airbnb.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">It is across the street from the Distrisur Supermercado
(Casimiro Bigua 1-99 at the corner with Av. Libertador), the best grocery store
for hearty premade sandwiches and other supplies.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">It is also right beside our top value restaurant pick, Cervecería
Artesanal Chopen. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Restaurants<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo8; text-indent: -18pt;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Cervecería Artesanal
Chopen - La parrillita del Pueblo, Av. del Libertador 1696. Good food, good
drinks, good value in a town that is overall pricey for what it offers. </span></span><a href="https://www.facebook.com/cerveceriachopen"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://www.facebook.com/cerveceriachopen</span></a></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Panadería y
Confitería Don Luis, Av. del Libertador 1536. Café with good breakfast and
snack options and lots of pastries.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li></ul><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span><span>The calafate bush produces a small blue berry. Try the
calafate ice cream.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Western Union<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Branch is located in CORREO EL CALAFATE, Av. Del
Libertador Gral San Martin 1133.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">When we were there, this is the only Western Union branch
that had service, and it usually did not have enough cash to meet demand so
don’t count on being able to get cash. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Ushuaia<o:p></o:p></span></b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></b><span>The city at the end of the world. This is where the
cruise ships depart for Antarctica.</span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">As we were not taking a cruise, we had to plan our own
activities. Everything departs from the Puerto Turístico, Av. Prefectura Naval
& Augusto Laserre. Or the bus terminus which is right next door, Av. Maipú
& Juana Genoveva Fadul.<o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="text-indent: -18pt;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Hiking in the
national park: Parque Nacional Tierra del Fuego. </span></span><a href="https://www.argentina.gob.ar/parquesnacionales/tierradelfuego" style="text-indent: -18pt;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://www.argentina.gob.ar/parquesnacionales/tierradelfuego</span></a><span style="text-indent: -18pt;"> </span><span style="text-indent: -18pt;">Catch a bus to the
park from the bus terminal. At the park you can buy a one or two-day park pass.
If you are into hiking, the two-day pass is worthwhile.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">See sea lions,
aquatic birds, condors. </span></span><span>Cruise the Beagle
channel, 3 hours. 9:00 a.m. daily. Get tickets from the Puerto Turístico. T</span><span>he boat trip is not
very exciting, but you’ll get some great photos.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Go to see penguins.
Magellanic and Gentoo penguins are only around during nesting season, November
to April. All of the tour companies will take you to where you can see penguins
from your boat. </span></span><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Only one company,
Piratour, lets you land and walk around on the island where the penguins are
nesting: </span><a href="https://piratour.net/"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">https://piratour.net/</span></a><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">. </span></span><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Go to the green Piratour hut at the Puerto Turistico, and
buy your ticket for the next day.</span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Penguins can also be
seen in Puerto Madryn. <o:p></o:p></span></span></li></ul><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Restaurants<o:p></o:p></span></i></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin-bottom: 0cm; mso-add-space: auto; mso-list: l4 level1 lfo8; text-indent: -18pt;"></p><ul style="text-align: left;"><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">El Viejo Marino, Av.
Maipú 227. King crab is the speciality and this is the place to eat it. They
don’t take reservations, so get there before it opens and stand in line.<o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Salitre Restaurent,
access to the restaurant is down the pedestrian stairs, Calle Onas 181 with
Gobernador Deloqui. <o:p></o:p></span></span></li><li><span style="font-size: medium;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Ana & Juana Café,
Av. San Martin 1485<o:p></o:p></span></span></li></ul><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p> </o:p></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Western Union</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">The Western Union is located in the Carrefour grocery
store. There is only one for the town and the line there is unbelievably long. </span></p><p></p><div>*****</div><div><br /></div>Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-91713468402696807072023-02-01T13:26:00.001-05:002023-02-02T14:53:54.253-05:00Jury Duty<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jxFNbCpUbm8W_6_DsSUllYnj-OLUYU4HyIulP-QrnVwSInpgySFO98wZXvgZBRBWvUEzQ-8IvaI3Dp77tQ5DtgCA5DNIANZIoj6uuvaOAPR-993FBE6M3EirZMYe4FxUu2VeA-9-wEZqI4o-IhuVuuO9H4XFBtAhz_XLJ2WyyCiXqnCPU3V5E9INlQ/s2000/12%20angry%20men.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2000" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jxFNbCpUbm8W_6_DsSUllYnj-OLUYU4HyIulP-QrnVwSInpgySFO98wZXvgZBRBWvUEzQ-8IvaI3Dp77tQ5DtgCA5DNIANZIoj6uuvaOAPR-993FBE6M3EirZMYe4FxUu2VeA-9-wEZqI4o-IhuVuuO9H4XFBtAhz_XLJ2WyyCiXqnCPU3V5E9INlQ/s320/12%20angry%20men.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">On Thursday, January 5, 2023, I had to present myself for
jury duty at 8:30 a.m. at the Ottawa Courthouse. <o:p></o:p></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">I arrived, went through security, and was sent upstairs to
mill about in the hallway with a group of about 80 people, from which 12 people
would be chosen, plus two alternates. Some people were chatty. I was not. I
didn’t especially want to be there and I didn’t want to make friends.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">We were ushered into a waiting room and lined up to
present our summons and ID to the court clerks. They checked our information
against their list and assigned us a number. I was juror number 1405.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Another hour or so later, we were brought into the court
chamber to be briefed on what the trial would entail. Indictments are public
record. We were informed that the trial was that of Tristan Campbell, who was
being charged with one count of murder and two counts of attempted murder
concerning an incident that took place in May 2018 in Ottawa. The prosecution,
the defense and the accused were in the courtroom as we were being briefed. The
judge asked us to consider any conscious or unconscious racial bias that we
might harbour and whether this would impact our ability to serve on the jury in
the trial of a black man. The trial was scheduled to start on Monday, January 9
and was expected to last one month.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">We were sent back to the waiting room. A court clerk came
and called out 10 numbers, and those people were taken back to the courtroom to
be interviewed individually. The rest of us waited. Another hour or so later,
another group of 10 was called. Most people had brought a book or spent their
time on their phone. The courthouse had free wifi. I settled into reading a book
on my iPad. Another group of 10 was called. And then another.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">By noon, we were starting to get hungry and restless. At
12:45 the court clerk said that we’d probably be released for lunch soon. We
were released for lunch at 1:10 and told to be back by 2:00. I hadn’t brought a
lunch with me. I thought that lunch would be provided. It wasn’t. I went out to
a sandwich place a couple of blocks away.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">At 2:15 another group of 10 was called. And then another
group. The time was going on 4:00. Someone asked the court clerk how much
longer it would be. The clerk said that the 12 jurors had already been picked
and only the two alternates remained to be chosen. He said that it was likely
that they would be found in this last group. So, could we leave? Not yet. Not
until the selection process was completed.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Feeling like I had dodged a bullet, I waited with the
remaining people for permission to leave. About 40 minutes later the court clerk
came back. They needed just one more person. Number 1450. Whew, almost like my
number! The clerk waited expectantly. No one answered to 1450. He called out the
number again. No answer. The clerk checked his paper: 1405. Crap. That’s me. I
gathered my things and followed him.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">In the courtroom, the judge asked if there was anything I
wanted to say before the questioning process began. Well, yes. On Sunday, January
1, New Year’s Day we resumed hosting our Hair-of the-Dog music jam, after two
years of being suspended due to COVID. It was our best jam ever, with a great
turnout of musicians. However, on Monday we got a call from a person who had attended
the jam, saying that they weren’t feeling well on Sunday night and Monday
morning they tested positive for COVID. Oh my. We contacted everyone who had
attended the jam to let them know that one of the guests had tested positive.
On Wednesday, our brother-in-law messaged to let us know that he had tested
positive too. This was now Thursday. I had been in close contact with two
people who had tested positive for COVID, spread at an event in my home. The
judge nodded and dismissed me from jury duty. The clerk went back to the waiting
room to find another prospective juror.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">My case was one of a number of reasons why a group of 80 people
is summoned to find a jury of 12 and two alternates. Many people can’t be
available for a month-long trial because they have other commitments, as workers,
business owners, parents, caregivers, students, etc.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">At the time of writing this, February 1, 2023, the trial
is still underway.</span> In Ontario, compensation for serving on a jury is as
follows: <span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%;">day one to ten: No compensation. From
day 11 to 49: $40 per day. From day 50 to the last day of trial: $100 per day. Employers
are required to give employees time off to serve as jurors but they are not
required to pay their salaries. Who can afford to be a juror? The retired, the
unemployed?</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Between economic constraints and other commitments, are
the people who end up on a jury actually “peers” of the accused? I didn’t end
up serving this time but I appreciated the outside glimpse into process of
justice, and it makes me wonder about the system’s inherent biases.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><o:p></o:p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">*****</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; font-size: 10pt;">Lingering Thoughts</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: "Arial","sans-serif"; font-size: 10.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">What would have happened if the court clerk had not
realized that he had mistakenly called out the wrong number? Would I have been
reported and convicted for allegedly having been absent or failing to respond when
summoned?<o:p></o:p></span></p>Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-73256474144419185672023-01-08T13:20:00.002-05:002023-01-08T22:52:26.836-05:00Recovery Mode<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 6pt;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4luUMmX7LfE0soS-wRWckYQahJzWM-AzBVhYMuA4UVzltT3oWdDWVmOtL0CrNzif7lPCELy_Q01a1hSfQsO7P0YonXA8BBUGYLf4DqJacxWWyDjhmKw_LWK4uZL4Fjt6ODTVsR_XoYxCx8R-kAyhnU7LUP-IFezhtIgPu39UODUh-ZBV5CNHfowEKLA/s1600/Recovery%20Slipcovers.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4luUMmX7LfE0soS-wRWckYQahJzWM-AzBVhYMuA4UVzltT3oWdDWVmOtL0CrNzif7lPCELy_Q01a1hSfQsO7P0YonXA8BBUGYLf4DqJacxWWyDjhmKw_LWK4uZL4Fjt6ODTVsR_XoYxCx8R-kAyhnU7LUP-IFezhtIgPu39UODUh-ZBV5CNHfowEKLA/s320/Recovery%20Slipcovers.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></div><span face=""Arial","sans-serif"" style="font-size: 10pt; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif"; line-height: 115%;">I’ve lost many things over the years, from umbrellas and
books, to jobs, practices, and people. Some were accidental losses, others were
deliberately shed. Some disappeared without my even noticing. They got lost
when I wasn’t paying attention to them. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">With a few exceptions, I don’t particularly miss the
material things that got left behind. I moved back to Canada with two bags. I
regret not having brought back some of the decorations that we put on the
Christmas tree in Bogota when the boys were growing up. I miss those
decorations not because I need or want them; I miss them because they were
meaningful to the boys. I wonder if I can recover them.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">I held an independent contractor job as a translator for
an international press monitoring service from February 1999 until December
2019, just over 20 years. The service was restructured and I was invited to
apply to work under contract with the new service provider. I declined with no
regrets as I had other professional projects to pursue. Jobs change.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">I’ve lost practices. I lost the practice of writing this
blog. It originally started as a by-product of Internet dating. I was
exchanging messages with prospective suitors and I realized that some of the
things I was writing about would be worth sharing with a wider audience. Then I
found someone, fell in love, and we stopped writing to each other. While
falling in love was a good thing, I don’t think that the fact that we stopped
exchanging letters was a positive development. The habit of writing is one that
I’d like to recover and maintain. My inspiration is my friend Sharon who has
recently posted a flurry of short reflections, reminding me that a piece of
writing starts with a moment of realization that I want to capture in words
before it escapes. It doesn’t have to be a full-fledged essay.</span><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">I’ve lost healthful practices. The pandemic was a hard
time. I engaged in a lot of eating and drinking and neglected health self-care.
Sometimes I still forget to act in ways that serve my physical and mental
health. I need to recover healthful practices: More fruits and vegetables.
Fewer sweets and drinks. More exercise. This isn’t rocket science.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">I’ve lost people. I drifted apart from some; others were
let go. There are people whose friendship I want to recover and I want to be
more mindful about maintaining the friendships that I don’t want to lose. Jot
down a note. Be diligent about answering. Schedule appointments to stay in
touch.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">******</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">Exercise in self-actualization</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">Finish this sentence:</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">I am a person who __________________________</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">Fill in the blank as many times as needed until you have
created a person.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">Are you that person? Do you really want to be that person?
What is needed to be that person?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">******</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">I feel like I’ve lost parts of my life, parts of myself,
and I want to find them again.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">I thought I’d lost my previous blog entries. It took some
Internet searching and technical help from Gord to find and access them.
They’re still there. The snapshots of what my life was.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm;"><span style="font-family: Arial, "sans-serif";">I’m in recovery mode, looking for my backups. Some aspects of who I used
to be don’t serve anymore, but I miss other aspects and need to recreate them.
They’re not new, but they need to be recreated, recovered…like an old piece of
furniture.</span></p><p></p>Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0Ottawa, ON, Canada45.4215296 -75.69719309999999331.402672591584654 -93.275318099999993 59.440386608415345 -58.119068099999993tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-66686371649276239852015-06-09T14:17:00.000-04:002015-06-09T14:17:37.225-04:00Sayonara, Yaris<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpgCFzocDXBRjwLdKq_rLe9xJJiXxoo0RWhmVWZJGrxJjbwLieKSxFKkjpqh1UekfSH0zHsPgdBldtG5e0oBTvkuZelh2g_3RM7j-0-l3ZyaIfh0TisHu-ZHeJdwPxSKDEdIbcOQ-011sF/s1600/Car+back.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpgCFzocDXBRjwLdKq_rLe9xJJiXxoo0RWhmVWZJGrxJjbwLieKSxFKkjpqh1UekfSH0zHsPgdBldtG5e0oBTvkuZelh2g_3RM7j-0-l3ZyaIfh0TisHu-ZHeJdwPxSKDEdIbcOQ-011sF/s400/Car+back.jpg" /></a></div><br />
I sold my car last week. It was great little car. I bought it from my cousins three years ago. It ran beautifully and I never had any problems with it, but I sold it because I really didn't need a car. When the summer tires were installed this year, the mechanic noticed rust on the front brakes from lack of use. Replacing the brakes and rotors cost $500. This was a sign that it was time to give up the car.<br />
<br />
As a statement of principle, I never wanted to be a car owner. I don't want to be an active contributor to climate change. I don't want to add to traffic congestion. I resented the monthly cost of insurance for a car that mostly sat in the driveway. I never learned to love snow shovelling as a form of cross-training. <br />
<br />
I'm not saying that car ownership is never ever justified. I am grateful that I have a job that does not require me to commute. Other people need their cars: Sharon provides therapy to shut-in patients, Gord works out of town, Penny has to visit employers all over the city to evaluate her students' work coop placements. <br />
<br />
In terms of environmental activism, many people are much more engaged than I am in protesting global climate change and opposing actions like fracking. My decision to sell the car is activism on a very small scale, it is my own private protest, my statement of principle that I do not want to be a car owner. I support human power transport (walk, bike, skate). I believe in public transit. I will sign up with a car-share service (currently comparing the merits of VirtuCar or Zipcar) so that I can use a vehicle when I need one. <br />
<br />
Lest this start sounding annoyingly self-righteous, let me point out that I am the beneficiary of a person who has a car, who drives me wherever I need to go and sends a note every afternoon asking if we need anything at the grocery store. I am grateful for this, I make use of it, and I am not suggesting that he should get rid of his car. Owning a car may be a luxury, but being able to live without one is a privilege.<br />
<br />
****<br />
<br />
Apropos, kudos to the G7 for the statement of intent to phase out fossil fuel use by the end of the century. At this stage the announcement is more of a symbolic gesture than a practical plan but it is the first step in the right direction.Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-28606335849603434662015-05-27T10:28:00.000-04:002015-05-27T10:28:43.116-04:00Deeply Disturbing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRYAcF1YyWfKljGmw_2MB1Tvf4DiQhjoq37OTQmWBwBiJN3Cv8vZIIf6udfpZA9Bqqwo-CT0foE-6dMvx6fSINxDCDQC9zLYrhvZtVwZ6MkDIkrGFqShniQtG_oot4sZwb9m94n0Rgt3-x/s1600/Shrew.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="271" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRYAcF1YyWfKljGmw_2MB1Tvf4DiQhjoq37OTQmWBwBiJN3Cv8vZIIf6udfpZA9Bqqwo-CT0foE-6dMvx6fSINxDCDQC9zLYrhvZtVwZ6MkDIkrGFqShniQtG_oot4sZwb9m94n0Rgt3-x/s320/Shrew.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Director Chris Abraham's production of The Taming of the Shrew is now in previews at Stratford (the production opens officially on June 5). It is looking very polished already and it is so fresh that it smarts.<br />
<br />
The Taming of the Shrew is a difficult play to think about producing nowadays. The story line of how a man goes about taming his unruly wife is not exactly a paragon of gender equality. Chris Abraham is fearless in his handling of this highly problematic text. The director's first recourse is distancing. As the audience files into the theatre, some of the actors, still in their street clothes, are on the stage and chatting to members of the audience. Tom Rooney, who plays Tranio, remarks that he has been performing Shakespeare for years but this is the first time he has done so in Elizabethan dress. The actor who plays Kate is welcomed onstage and introduced by name: "Here comes Deb Hay!" All of this is a reminder to the audience: This is a play. <br />
<br />
The action begins with an interruption by "audience member Christopher Sly," who objects to this lack of suspended disbelief. He rails against being shown the visible underpinnings of theatre, noting that he should not be surprised at this, "coming from the director of My Big Fat Gay Wedding," a reference to director Chris Abraham's production of A Midsummer Night's Dream, last year (http://noessinomivida.blogspot.ca/2014/06/stratford-1-nothing-was-what-i-expected.html), which was so flamboyantly gay that it would be inconceivable to accuse Abraham of upholding conventional gender roles. The Christopher Sly introduction is Shakespeare's creation, an indication that The Bard himself was aware that he was dealing with some seriously problematic sexism and he would be well advised to prime the audience with a reminder that what is said should not necessarily be taken at face value. <br />
<br />
First of all, in the logic of the time in which the play is set, a woman was chattel. She was the negotiable property of her father and husband. Petruchio (Ben Carlson) is broke and he needs a wife who has a substantial dowry. He knows that Katherina (Deborah Hay) is rich and he makes it clear that his intention is to break her headstrong character and enjoy her fortune. <br />
<br />
Petruchio gets off to a pretty good start. He is as sharp tongued and quick-witted as Katherina and the two can banter like nobody's business. Kate does appreciate that as quickly as she can deliver her zingers, he comes back with a retort. He does succeed in winning some esteem from her, but that promise of equality crumbles after he marries her (having lied to her father, claiming that she agreed to the marriage). The wedding is a mockery. He shows up late (leaving her to contemplate the possibility that she is being humiliated by being stood up at the altar), wearing a mishmash of odd clothing and riding on a half-dead horse. <br />
<br />
Petruchio takes Kate home and implements his plan to break her through starvation, sleep deprivation, forced marches, and being made to wear her wedding dress, the symbol of purity in love, until it is ragged and filthy from being dragged through the mud. These deprivations he enacts "in the name of love," protesting that the food, the bed, the place, the new clothing are "not good enough for her." It is calculated manipulation on his part, and Petruchio voices his protestations violently and irrationally, making Kate doubt his sanity and fear what else he might put her through if she does not acquiesce. So finally, acquiesce she does. <br />
<br />
In his plan, even an act of love, a kiss, becomes a form of debasement. Three times in the play, Petruchio asks Kate to kiss him. The first two times, she refuses, explaining that she would be ashamed to do so in the street (proper ladies of the time did not engage is public displays of affection). The third time he asks her to kiss him is at the end of the final scene, following her declaration of submission. In the context of the play, it is the ultimate debasement: she is being made to humiliate herself in front of her father and sister and neighbours. <br />
<br />
The ending is dark. This is a Shakespearean comedy, so everyone gets married at the end (Kate and Petruchio, Bianca and Lucentio, the widow and Hortensio) but what kind of contract is this marriage? At the banquet to celebrate the marriages, a test of obedience is set and the women are summoned to come to their husbands. Only Kate obeys, and gives a speech about wifely duty. Petruchio gloats and points to his triumph in taming his wife. The characters onstage listen with astonishment and unease. Kate has entered into Bluebeard's bargain: her husband will care for and protect her so long as she obeys him. If she fails to obey, her very life could be forfeit. She is married to the insane manipulator and she will stay because she has no means to support herself. It is doubtful that her father would step in to help her, having finally married her off to a man who can keep her quiet. <br />
<br />
The relationship between Kate and her father Baptista is not discussed at length in the play. Baptista dotes on his younger daughter Bianca, and he is aware that Katherina is a hellion. The unspoken question is what turned Kate into such a hellion in her relations with men? The audience is left to speculate on this. Kate and Bianca's mother is missing from their lives (presumed deceased). Was it the lack of a mother's love and influence that made Kate into what she is, or did something more insidious happen to her? Director Abraham does not explore the implications but allows audience members to ask themselves disturbing questions. The sense of unease is created without being explicit. <br />
<br />
This production is conveyed with wit, social commentary, and a profound sense of danger. Laughter at the clever repartee gives way to horror. Petruchio is not a bon vivant, he is a manipulative psychopath. Starvation, sleep deprivation, defilement, public humiliation, and repeated reminders that she is mere chattel… this play is no longer funny and it is a poignant reminder that not that long ago women were not entitled to rights or property. It is deeply disturbing and for all the right reasons. <br />
<br />
***<br />
Saw three more productions during this trip to Stratford.<br />
The Sound of Music. Creative set changes and great singing kept this somewhat wooden production alive. It was fun, it was competent but not surprising. <br />
The Adventures of Pericles (Prince of Tyre). Like Odysseus, Pericles must journey and this production is all over the map: the people of Tyre are in Victorian dress, the people of Tarsus are in Elizabethan dress, the goddess Diana and her acolytes in Ephesus are decked out in some sort white habit that could be from the future or the past. Diana and her gang also act as Greek chorus, narrating where Pericles has landed and what has befallen him on the way. By the end of the play I was exhausted but not because of emotional intensity or engagement. Tyresome.<br />
Hamlet. Passionate, intense, every line was laden with meaning and wordplay. This production deserves a review of its own.Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-4508580607917622482014-06-21T17:21:00.000-04:002014-06-21T17:22:37.776-04:00Edwardian Oddities<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggSj8lV9_R5cARdmxIhGgcA3RYNRnuecgQyUz68QGmw6v5NJuiDvIQrNtYGbY7a2Yoafq7crw-u_Av5IUtATJPARKOJcGK4L7yZT4-iRSWCpbnxz2p2VkszNeW9Zu87B5p0M_er4i9KdL/s1600/Shaw_Charity.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiggSj8lV9_R5cARdmxIhGgcA3RYNRnuecgQyUz68QGmw6v5NJuiDvIQrNtYGbY7a2Yoafq7crw-u_Av5IUtATJPARKOJcGK4L7yZT4-iRSWCpbnxz2p2VkszNeW9Zu87B5p0M_er4i9KdL/s400/Shaw_Charity.jpg" /></a></div>Photo from www.shawfest.com<br />
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<b>The Charity That Began at Home</b><br />
By St. John Hankin <br />
2:00, Sunday, June 8, 2014<br />
Court House Theatre, Niagara-on-the-Lake <br />
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The Charity That Began at Home is a discomforting Edwardian comedy. Lady Denison (Fiona Reid) has been advised that the best way to be charitable and coax better behaviour from others is by setting a good example. She embraces this notion by inviting a group of undesirable misfits to her country home, in the hope that by enjoying civilized company they may improve their own manners and hence their social prospects. The menagerie of boors and bores shows no signs of reform. So long as they are only boring, they present no imminent danger. That, however, changes. <br />
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One of the guests, Hugh Verreker (Martin Harper), is a disgraced army officer who was dismissed over having made a loan to himself from the regiment's cash. He makes a convincing argument about how he intended to pay back the money and had arranged for a loan from his uncle, but the repayment did not arrive before the cash was discovered to be missing. In discussing his case, Margery (Julia Course), Lady Denison's daughter, is told that Verreker might be a scoundrel but that under the influence of good people he could reform. Margery therefore concludes that the best way to reform him would be to marry him. This is when the notion of commitment to charity clashes with practicality. <br />
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Even the servant Soames has been engaged to work in the household as an opportunity to give him a second chance in life after having been dismissed from his last position. The outcome is that Soames rapes the maid Anson and leaves her pregnant. When he is confronted, he acknowledges his act and he is entirely unapologetic about it. He adds that he cannot possibly marry Anson because he is already married. The Edwardian audience would have been horrified that he will not give his victim the respectability of marriage, but the modern audience is relieved that the rape victim is not forced to enter a binding relationship with her abuser. It is also uncomfortable to note that Lady Denison is much more concerned that Soames should be given the opportunity to redeem his respectability, rather than ensuring that Anson will be able to lead a respectable life. By the mores of the times, she will not, she is "ruined." <br />
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When does selfless goodness stop being a good thing and start to be a clearly foolish endeavour? Does anyone really change? The social concerns may be different nowadays but the notion of world responsibility toward the less fortunate remains a concern. How personally should we take the notion of "charity?" To what extent should we open our hearts and our homes to a person who needs rescuing? It is not an easy question.<br />
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Hankin was criticized in his time because he failed to provide "satisfactory" endings to his plays. How can this be a comedy is Margery's heart is broken? Will Lady Denison and Margery continue to pursue this kind of charity? Should they do so? Are they right to flaunt social convention in the name of kindness or is their intention misguided and foolish? Should personal sacrifice extend to marrying someone to redeem them? There remains a wide gap between the romantic ideal and the practical reality, and Hankin's comedy is not as light as it would appear. I consider the fact that he does not provide facile resolution as a strength, rather than a weakness. This play was deeper and more relevant than it would appear at first glance. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0-M2jxJhpB0sL_vAvZB7wEsg83q9Gk0o1sW-icnuksns_75JyoP6jwl8mTSif3MC9om4tdD6Xiu9lTmW2SY-4e8M3rpgNEI45tg4lWXF6Y7d9Iet0BrAYyBKsjrIGZvbBuaGYhyphenhyphenH50x0/s1600/Shaw_The_Sea.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0-M2jxJhpB0sL_vAvZB7wEsg83q9Gk0o1sW-icnuksns_75JyoP6jwl8mTSif3MC9om4tdD6Xiu9lTmW2SY-4e8M3rpgNEI45tg4lWXF6Y7d9Iet0BrAYyBKsjrIGZvbBuaGYhyphenhyphenH50x0/s400/Shaw_The_Sea.jpg" /></a></div>Photo from www.shawfest.com<br />
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<b>The Sea</b><br />
By Edward Bond<br />
8:00, Sunday, June 8, 2014<br />
Court House Theatre, Niagara-on-the-Lake <br />
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It is 1907. A storm rages at sea. A young man is drowned. The Coast Guard is at arms because invaders may be attacking. The play was originally produced at the Royal Court Theatre on 22 May 1973. The director's notes in the programme refer to Margaret Thatcher, the IRA, Pink Floyd, Monty Python's Plying Circus, and the invasion of the body snatchers. The play looks Edwardian --it is set in Edwardian times-- but it has contemporary concerns.<br />
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The opening scene shows the wind machine, property of the East Anglia Theatre Company, on the beach at night. Like Brecht, Bond reminds us that this is a play, not real life (epic theatre convention). As the machine is set in motion, the "storm" rages and the story begins to unfold. A young man's boat overturns and he is killed, either by the storm or possibly by Hatch (Patrick Galligan) the maniacal leader of the Coast Guard who is convinced that aliens from outer space are attempting to land on England's shores. Hatch, the draper, a seller of yard goods, is a bona fide mad hatter. He, in turn, is terrorized by Lady Rafi (Fiona Reid), the town's matriarch, who orders goods and then will not accept them when they arrive. She maintains the social order and runs the local amateur theatre society in which she is the star. Willy (Wade Bogert-O'Brien) survives the shipwreck and must go speak to the deceased's fiancée Rose (Julia Course). Hatch presumes that Willy is an invading aliens and threatens his life. Evens (Peter Millard), the drunken hermit who lives in an abandoned boat on the beach, comforts Willy and tells him that Hatch is harmless. <br />
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I felt like I was at sea for most of the first act. I could make no sense of this play until I latched onto the notion that the main characters are all Shakespearean fools. Lady Rafi is the tyrannical fool. Hatch is the mad fool. Evens is the wise fool. Once this became clear, the whole play started to make more sense. In the end each of the fools tells the young people to leave this place: Lady Rafi and Evens tell them to get away for their own good and Hatch tells them to get out. Staying would only lead to madness. <br />
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Several elements did not hold together. Hatch the draper was unconvincing in his over the top lunacy. It is hard to see how he could hold down any sort of job at all, much less run a store and serve as the head of the coast guard. The scene in which Lady Rafi is declaiming her lines in the theatre society rehearsal as Orpheus, asking a stalwart Rose as Eurydice to come back from the dead, is a moment of high irony, but not believable. The vocal battle and the tussle over the ashes at the funeral were delightfully uproarious but blatantly silly. There were moments of levity and seriousness, but overall, I am not convinced that this play manages to make enough sense of the madness. Also, the Shaw Festival could use a bit of work on its wigs. The wig lines were visible on every character in both productions and it is disconcerting. Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-44623249440289860712014-06-14T11:52:00.000-04:002014-06-14T11:52:20.082-04:00Stratford 1: Nothing Was What I Expected<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHQW2VhHqoOOOs7NxazHZ96mAo4j2FotwyP0Clpohb4pn9cOlLo5qgfCbUeE_bguBEArhaCOBqiifrPQz8HOh_DO0JsJql58gJppGg5Gmj0oFEb_Fp7V4DhYi7LvahG39BDZFRLkCQCtTU/s1600/0614Crazy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHQW2VhHqoOOOs7NxazHZ96mAo4j2FotwyP0Clpohb4pn9cOlLo5qgfCbUeE_bguBEArhaCOBqiifrPQz8HOh_DO0JsJql58gJppGg5Gmj0oFEb_Fp7V4DhYi7LvahG39BDZFRLkCQCtTU/s400/0614Crazy.jpg" /></a></div><b>Crazy for You</b><br />
2:00 Wednesday, June 11, 2014<br />
Festival Theatre<br />
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I suppose I had better 'fess up and admit that I chose this show based on a misunderstanding: I thought that Crazy for You was by George and Ira Gershwin. What I found out was that although the music in it is theirs, the play is not. Ken Ludwig wrote the script, strung along a series of Gershwin songs. Sometimes the music hangs together and contributes to the rather thin plot and sometimes it is a non-sequitur. Director and choreographer Donna Feore whipped the dancers into a high energy show and Natalie Daradich as Polly Baker sang her heart out. There was great singing and dancing, but being a musical is no excuse for a lack of depth and a contrived plot. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpdaPSpbQZ2NxAtimpvgixyIxDTJhzRAQixnRlH8yF0o6ZsW6eRXuqZTWf6UCnXXvgZlGRFry_aueGfiOQ8_q4cKnMTu4ax7a3Wu3h0sBUDl9JpEVLVhNxrzE9snSaob1iyEY2OSoaxIkM/s1600/0614mother_courage.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpdaPSpbQZ2NxAtimpvgixyIxDTJhzRAQixnRlH8yF0o6ZsW6eRXuqZTWf6UCnXXvgZlGRFry_aueGfiOQ8_q4cKnMTu4ax7a3Wu3h0sBUDl9JpEVLVhNxrzE9snSaob1iyEY2OSoaxIkM/s400/0614mother_courage.jpg" /></a></div><b>Mother Courage and Her Children</b><br />
2:00 Thursday, June 12, 2014<br />
Tom Patterson Theatre <br />
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This is the first time I have seen a performance at the Tom Patterson Theatre, the smallest and most intimate of the three festival theatres, named after the festival's founder. I had also never seen Mother Courage and Her Children. I was aware that Bertolt Brecht is big with leftists, and I could see why. The main character Anna Fierling, Mother Courage, is reviled for her commitment to commerce and for sacrificing her children to war. Written in 1939 but set during the Thirty Years' War (1618-1648), Courage and her three children have a caravan that they drag around to the battle front, seeing an opportunity for survival by selling to the soldiers: Buy cheap, sell dear, that is the capitalist mantra. There is always profit to be made in war and peace is not good for business. Mother Courage is not sentimental about war. She sees in it a way to keep herself and her family alive. <br />
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But war always exacts a dear price. Against his mother's wishes, first son Eilif leaves and joins the army. He ends up being executed for killing peasants, the same act for which he had previously been rewarded when he was plundering farms so that the army could feed itself. Second son, Swiss Cheese, becomes an army paymaster. He hides the regiment's paybox from invading soldiers but he is captured while attempting to return the paybox. Mother Courage attempts to negotiate with the soldiers to free him, but she haggles too long over the price and Swiss Cheese is killed. Suspecting that she may be an accomplice, the soldiers bring his body to her in the expectation that she will break down, but she steels herself and does not acknowledge that he is her son. It is a heart-rending moment. Later in the story, mute daughter Kattrin is raped and disfigured by an army clerk. Courage's old love interest, the Cook, reappears. He has inherited his mother's inn and he wants Courage to come with him to run the inn, but there would be no room for Kattrin. Courage refuses to leave her mute and disfigured daughter. Ultimately Kattrin meets her end when she sacrifices herself by warning the town of imminent attack, while her mother is in the town, trying to broker a deal to sell her goods. <br />
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We had lively discussion over the play. Did Courage recklessly endanger her children with her desire to make a living? Would they have been better off staying in one place and eking a living from the earth? Would that have saved her sons from conscription, her family from starvation, her daughter from rape and murder? It is debatable. Being useful is a way of staying alive, but is it reckless? Certainly many innocent farmers died or were killed in the course of war with no second thoughts given to them. Mother Courage's character is widely condemned for her "adoration of capitalism" and she is dubbed the "hyena of the battlefield," but she did not abandon her daughter when she could have had a comfortable life with her lover. The inexorable machinery of war is what decides outcomes, regardless of whether you decide to confront it or hide from it. <br />
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Seana McKenna gave a great performance as Mother Courage, a performance only a mother could give. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJbM9UhvdfGVHQ5lv-w8J4nHch_4MdJFVLNCbjAQeZh-9EGuCmmMEo2wkwCW5ZmViBUuLuVeaxMc3e2TjMjw9kJhHuWVnTGLB7M7C6Nb81tqfCbV3ZEFXoRN-BgS2in0eaOxvZlKQIHpix/s1600/0614MidsummerT-O.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJbM9UhvdfGVHQ5lv-w8J4nHch_4MdJFVLNCbjAQeZh-9EGuCmmMEo2wkwCW5ZmViBUuLuVeaxMc3e2TjMjw9kJhHuWVnTGLB7M7C6Nb81tqfCbV3ZEFXoRN-BgS2in0eaOxvZlKQIHpix/s400/0614MidsummerT-O.jpg" /></a></div><b>A Midsummer Night's Dream</b><br />
2:00 Friday, June 13, 2014<br />
Festival Theatre<br />
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I hadn't planned on seeing A Midsummer Night's Dream at Stratford. Or rather I hadn't planned on seeing this version; I thought I was buying tickets to see the Chamber version, which I have never seen. That being said, I have no regrets about having seen this Midsummer, even though I have seen this particular play umpteen times. Director Chris Abraham faces the same problem: How to make a production that people know too well, fresh. <br />
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His hook was to make it modern through a gender-bending approach. He created a new prologue as an overlay to introduce the performance: A backyard barbecue party in celebration of a gay wedding between two men. What sort of entertainment shall we have? A play! Another wedding, another play within the play, and thus the first act is launched.<br />
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In keeping with the gay theme, Lysander, Hermia's love interest is played by and as a woman. In this day and age, we can roll with it. It works well as a dramatic argument too: Egeus doesn’t want his daughter to marry her gay lover. Chick Reid is cast as a female Puck but there is nothing special about that switch-up, and her portrayal was pretty nondescript. The gasp moment came when Titania appeared on stage. Evan Buliung and Jonathan Goad play Oberon and Titania, and the two of them take turns playing each other's characters in alternate performances. Titania is usually portrayed as a woman of strength, titanium-strength, but to take the idea one step further and put a well-muscled man with a booming voice into sweeping cocktail dress brings a whole new perspective to the Queen of the Fairies. Oberon was duly manly, a burly Elrond with ram's horns. Rounding out this production was a chorus of children who double as both the wedding guests and the fairies and sing a charmingly thin but heartfelt version of Bruno Mars "Grenade." Later, as all of the lovers are duly married and a dance is called for, the fab disco classic "Bizarre Love Triangle" could not have been a better choice. I was ready to buy the gay pretext. Why not? The suggestive elements have been there since Shakespeare's time when women weren't allowed on the stage and the audience was always aware that they were seeing men kissing other men who were pretending to be women. Even the other play-within-the-play, the tale of Thisbe and Pyramus by the "rude mechanicals" plays on this idea; Abraham just takes it that much further. <br />
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This play lends itself to slapstick, and Abraham milked it to the max, by the time the characters were squishing the icing from the wedding cupcakes into each other's faces, the kids were still laughing but I wasn't. A few other directorial misteps: a mute Egeus using sign language. This character ultimately does not get his way, but that does not mean that he has no voice. Liisa Repo-Martell as Helena, dressed in a dowdy Alice in Wonderland style, whined her way through all of her lines. Was she really that bad or was this a deliberate directorial choice? Given the level of competence at Stratford, my inclination is to blame the director. The Flamenco-themed music as Puck is leading the lovers astray in the woods was odd too, seeing as there was no other Spanish motif in the production. In contrast, the backyard barbecue set that becomes the Athenian forest, the twinkling wedding lights, the children running around with fairy wings, all made perfect logical sense as they crossed over between the respective story lines. The bouquets decorating each row of seats for the audience were a nice touch, reminding us that we are also part of this and the story is as contemporary as it is old. The use of water was very good, as a backyard water feature, a forest stream, and with great comic potential for falling into and splashing around. I also had a giggle over the faint sound of swans/geese in the background as Theseus and Hippolyta sipped their champagne by the (Avon) river. Mention should be made of Stratford veteran Stephen Ouimette who was delightful as Bottom, which has got to be one of most all-time fun roles to play. <br />
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The matinee performance was full of high school kids. Frankly it made a nice change from the geriatric crowd that has been at the other plays we have attended. The kids loved the rollicking production. They probably found it edgy and could hoot along with the slapstick humor. The cast was dead on with its timing and focus. They brought Shakespeare to life for an audience that might otherwise walk away and say, what does this have to do with anything? I admire the production for its seductive qualities even if I felt it was a bit too over the top. If you want to get the kids to come back, the performance has to speak to their lives, and I could see them telling their friends that they went to Stratford to see Shakespeare and it wasn't lame, it was pretty cool. I don't think that Chris Abraham's version of A Midsummer Night's Dream is going to become a definitive interpretation, but it was a lot of fun and it is certainly one I will remember.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB91oTw4GkazCKXzjW3eIpwnMWX7CmEH6_wZuU3LvmqFIefkxfwghiBAEQmfk7ii9SnLRT3puo-FTmRDeOtPJ-Qmp5oYh7tsEV7UJyc-yTHM2NJYkLPRirzxWhLr-PaKgAEd8bGHiR9YDP/s1600/0614MidsummerHelena.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB91oTw4GkazCKXzjW3eIpwnMWX7CmEH6_wZuU3LvmqFIefkxfwghiBAEQmfk7ii9SnLRT3puo-FTmRDeOtPJ-Qmp5oYh7tsEV7UJyc-yTHM2NJYkLPRirzxWhLr-PaKgAEd8bGHiR9YDP/s400/0614MidsummerHelena.jpg" /></a></div>Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-10452073682389124812014-03-25T17:56:00.000-04:002014-03-25T17:56:26.223-04:00Bicycle Culture in BogotaI sold my bike in Bogota in January. The bike had been stored for a year and a half at my friend Estela's house. I had hoped that she would use it, but she didn't because she never learned to ride a bike. So I sold it rather than having it gathering dust and taking up space. This is my starting point for some musings on what my bike meant to me, and as a reflection on bike culture in Bogota. <br />
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My bike had always been my primary means of transport, riding it to university, to work, to the gym, hauling groceries home in a backpack, on the carrier rack and in the basket. It is amazing the number of things you can transport strapped to your bike. More than once I have had to stop to collect groceries that were trying to make a break for it, notably ice cream skidding across the road. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRR1V2Yhiby_0d-qACRZMbAQh7NKGcDfkOJaULu1CxKTBTmXnIZ6sq0GAhmGxIPER1Lsvv9HkIPXnS4awABJG6n6RZbvq7HYVPDaX1Geb_s77rSDiEegXBBTzNwtC_1ixgaJ6vThx5htZG/s1600/ciclorutas_bogota.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRR1V2Yhiby_0d-qACRZMbAQh7NKGcDfkOJaULu1CxKTBTmXnIZ6sq0GAhmGxIPER1Lsvv9HkIPXnS4awABJG6n6RZbvq7HYVPDaX1Geb_s77rSDiEegXBBTzNwtC_1ixgaJ6vThx5htZG/s400/ciclorutas_bogota.jpg" /></a></div>The bicycle is a very proletariat means of transport in Bogota; it is not something that the upper classes would use on a daily basis. I would be met with disbelief when I would ask for the bike parking area at the grocery store. What was a foreign woman doing riding a bike in that city? I rode my bike all over the place in Bogota. An extensive network of bike paths (ciclorutas) crosses the city but they are not without challenges. At any point you might encounter broken glass, gaps in the pavement, and the path itself might disappear for a few blocks in some places. <br />
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Maintenance on the bike paths was not very consistent. I once saw a little kid ride his bike into an open manhole on the bike path behind the Carrefour store on Calle 80. The child broke his front teeth. It was a terrible accident, although it could have been worse. How many children have to drown when they are swept after falling into open manholes? By the question itself, you can tell that the answer is more than one. The recent cases in January this year and October last year, spring to mind, and they were not the first incidents.<br />
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If you ride your bike enough, you will eventually have some kind of accident. I had two bad crashes on my bike, both were the result of swerving so as not to hit pedestrians who were walking on the bike path. On one occasion I hit a streetlight post, on the other I collided head-on with a cyclist who was coming in the opposite direction. In neither case did the pedestrians whose presence caused the accident offer any assistance. In both cases I (and the other cyclist) walked away with only minor cuts and bruises. Bike helmets are obligatory for everyone in Bogota, a measure that I support.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvZwhCynLnRq0kMbHQNtftS8xm2f4POyAa8Ckq9C7D2lXaD13c4JQ6jrSY9NmjgS9LrahXEaMowbYOd4z5ay5kcrIhzeb6Pe2LAMsgkVd_RkmfHrmdmG9K-CWMayqQDifG1Ms-VpLzMD-/s1600/Esteban.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwvZwhCynLnRq0kMbHQNtftS8xm2f4POyAa8Ckq9C7D2lXaD13c4JQ6jrSY9NmjgS9LrahXEaMowbYOd4z5ay5kcrIhzeb6Pe2LAMsgkVd_RkmfHrmdmG9K-CWMayqQDifG1Ms-VpLzMD-/s400/Esteban.jpg" /></a></div>Don Esteban<br />
I rode my bike hard. Don Esteban would do my bike maintenance. Every Sunday he would be found at his post at the entrance to Parque Simón Bolívar, a prime location. During the week he would set up shop on a corner of the local square. He custom-built the mudguards for my bike, managed to affix the wonky carrier rack, fixed the flats, tightened the chain, adjusted the gears, rewired the brakes, and generally kept everything in running order. You can find people like him all along the bike routes.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigITxSMFhUemseMEtwjZTggKj8QCC0t77vkjDfAHoaw3fv6K8ZSa1Nf4HmX1mSJijEMjM4ksMBCUdlLPmPza29vfPBr0SvkLSPbBuh-V0HbcXCEmmz4RmgAVji-oNC0R0QyBPKvwyB40Lm/s1600/2014-01-26+001+024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigITxSMFhUemseMEtwjZTggKj8QCC0t77vkjDfAHoaw3fv6K8ZSa1Nf4HmX1mSJijEMjM4ksMBCUdlLPmPza29vfPBr0SvkLSPbBuh-V0HbcXCEmmz4RmgAVji-oNC0R0QyBPKvwyB40Lm/s400/2014-01-26+001+024.JPG" /></a></div>Bogota's Ciclovías<br />
On Sunday mornings a number of main arteries close at least one way lane to traffic for use by cyclists, joggers, roller bladers. I love the idea, even though in practice you might be riding alongside diesel-fuelled trucks and buses in the next lanes. The ciclovía is always nicer and less crowded first thing in the morning, and the serious cyclists go out early. There is something revitalizing about an early Sunday morning ride, with a stop for freshly squeezed orange juice. This was also my New Year's Day ritual. Not being a big fan of New Year's Eve parties, I'd be up bright and early on New Year's Day for a bike ride around the city. The roads were always pretty empty that day. I guess I won't be continuing that ritual in Canada.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUyOv-1DUWQj5qAz6Hzts2Fl-H7rfutbnAdM7MxHoTlm7ydqbbnIMp4wLxK-XdecD4mSATmsKvRhNoNnydQeBc2eTkBQKDBOOsv3EZG5W9sXLwugOhuuGviILF_staNMNkSTgtCdzZEcZa/s1600/2014-01-19+001+001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUyOv-1DUWQj5qAz6Hzts2Fl-H7rfutbnAdM7MxHoTlm7ydqbbnIMp4wLxK-XdecD4mSATmsKvRhNoNnydQeBc2eTkBQKDBOOsv3EZG5W9sXLwugOhuuGviILF_staNMNkSTgtCdzZEcZa/s400/2014-01-19+001+001.JPG" /></a></div>On the weekends, packs of cyclists may be seen training on the roads. <br />
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Nestled high in the Andes, the rough, steeply inclined roads of the departments of Cundinamarca and Boyacá have produced a number of world class cyclists, most recently Nairo Quintana who placed second in the 2013 Tour de France, taking the awards for the mountain classification and the best young cyclist (age 23).<br />
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I wish I could find the video interview I saw a couple of years ago of the parents of an up-and-coming cyclist who had just had a break-through win. The parents were subsistence potato farmers, being interviewed at their cottage in Boyacá. In the interview the couple is painfully humble. They are glowing with pride at their son's achievement, but abashed before the cameras and in the face of all the attention. They must have poured everything they had into buying bikes for their son so that he could compete. But they would have understood the mystique. The roads of Boyacá are lined with young men on bikes who dream about being the next wearer of the polka-dot jersey. This is an attainable goal in a breeding ground for champions made possible by an accident of topography. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIXS8e2iyO1q8zgAz5iaGcCZlzPRwLjSyeo5J2trJw63a96Ekt9WsW_sh3Tj5JLqzEYYR28pflGtT0toeIzq6qTIs9vyexEjSHw7uJfJnKf-wvD6sD6N3BsWaVEYZ-nGRcjUi-BplhJZ1b/s1600/2014-01-21+001+010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIXS8e2iyO1q8zgAz5iaGcCZlzPRwLjSyeo5J2trJw63a96Ekt9WsW_sh3Tj5JLqzEYYR28pflGtT0toeIzq6qTIs9vyexEjSHw7uJfJnKf-wvD6sD6N3BsWaVEYZ-nGRcjUi-BplhJZ1b/s400/2014-01-21+001+010.JPG" /></a></div>On the days that they can't train on the road, many cyclists get up early in the morning and use the track that goes around the Virgilio Barco Library (as seen from my living room window). <br />
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If you are not decked out in high-tech-moisture-wicking-spandex, the bike is considered a lower class means of transport. As such many drivers feel entitled to run over cyclists without a second thought, in keeping with the logic that whoever has the most expensive mode of transport must be the most important person and therefore has the most rights. <br />
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This situation has also had the secondary result of producing scammers who stage accidents in order to try to extort money from drivers. My friend Sally had an experience with that. The accident itself was not staged, but when the parents of the boy involved found out that the car was driven by a foreign woman, for them it became the opportunity for a cash-grab.<br />
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I once caused a traffic accident on my bike, although not exactly as the result of my actions. Heading west at the intersection of Calle 53 and Av. 68, most of the cars would be turning left. But some would be turning right, and I always had to keep a close eye on the right-turners who would not hesitate to mow me down. As the light changed, I would eyeball the drivers, to see which way they were looking as they turned. On the day in question, when the traffic light changed, I advanced on my bike. In the distance I could vaguely hear a siren. A car pulled up on my left and slowed down. The driver was leaning over and looking at me through the passenger side window. To be specific, he was staring at my ass, and it pissed me off. I stepped on the pedals and sped up. As I crossed the intersection, I heard a crash behind me. The ambulance that was coming through on the red light had clipped the back of the car of the man who had slowed down to stare at me. No one was hurt, but the ambulance had to stop. The satisfaction that the man's car was hit because he was being a jerk was quickly replaced by the realization that if the ambulance had arrived seconds earlier, I might have been the one who was hit. <br />
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Bike riding might be very popular in Bogota, but it is always at your own risk. Matt rides his bike all over the city. I try not to think about possible mishaps. William rides his bike everywhere in Ottawa too. I have been out with William a couple of times on the bike paths here. The bike path along the river on the Gatineau side is particularly nice. William says that I am not a "passionate" enough bike rider. I suppose he is right. My bike riding is much more recreational than hell-bent passionate. This is yet another reason why I feel that he needs to be wearing a reflective vest when he is biking at night. All the passion in the world won't protect you from the driver who doesn't see you coming. The coexistence between bikes and cars is a somewhat uneasy relationship in Canada too.<br />
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I may have sold my Bogota bike, but I am still a bike rider here. It is a way of life, as much as a means of transport.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEyL6e60LNKTpi6pocS4hC5GmtSl8KRBDPYDK_gSrb2XXmtpoy-5cZt6ChyjWI9oCRrtfvF9HsKDSuejcUbLiadDBqV27unwgo2EWVH5hyfGImil-H7TVQW6PxYtq2otudWrPGhjmQtbht/s1600/2014-01-26+001+016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEyL6e60LNKTpi6pocS4hC5GmtSl8KRBDPYDK_gSrb2XXmtpoy-5cZt6ChyjWI9oCRrtfvF9HsKDSuejcUbLiadDBqV27unwgo2EWVH5hyfGImil-H7TVQW6PxYtq2otudWrPGhjmQtbht/s400/2014-01-26+001+016.JPG" /></a></div>Waiting for the train to pass.<br />
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Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-37675249392434520502014-02-10T16:39:00.000-05:002014-02-10T16:45:57.256-05:00Why Children's Books Matter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ5vEs4NkBINpt6dXmXdIydHmJHqrCOefLrMVtna4Wz-CyoR3KVZpq19sbEdtfPVkMmsExDOCSb5JibqAKD87f5ZdmhRO5M6Mq-vAEeO-J3TX4tCTH9wvdxivNZZPDhuPXiKOgiaMyHaT2/s1600/2014-02-02+001+008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ5vEs4NkBINpt6dXmXdIydHmJHqrCOefLrMVtna4Wz-CyoR3KVZpq19sbEdtfPVkMmsExDOCSb5JibqAKD87f5ZdmhRO5M6Mq-vAEeO-J3TX4tCTH9wvdxivNZZPDhuPXiKOgiaMyHaT2/s400/2014-02-02+001+008.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRGFM1e-GHYzktjByDo56A0RNwL65IT8IcAr-UjoPmjPTrm7GxZmXv_cs27udlI3oL-JX42QEDNuiFyWZcKS9dY7STZh5fngS732368A_tTVZpKH9yba5LqpJzN07OzNa5LcQZwqw8iUev/s1600/2014-02-02+001+009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRGFM1e-GHYzktjByDo56A0RNwL65IT8IcAr-UjoPmjPTrm7GxZmXv_cs27udlI3oL-JX42QEDNuiFyWZcKS9dY7STZh5fngS732368A_tTVZpKH9yba5LqpJzN07OzNa5LcQZwqw8iUev/s400/2014-02-02+001+009.JPG" /></a></div><br />
On January 29th I took advantage of a six-hour layover in New York to go see the exhibit "The ABC of It: Why Children's Books Matter" at the NY Public Library. <br />
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"It highlights the distinctive visions of childhood of the Puritans, Romantics, progressive educators, and others and how each inspired a new kind of book for the young. It explores the key ways in which children historically have acquired their books: as gifts, at the public library, and, as with comic books, in secret—when grownups were not looking.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglkcTO-lj3Bpmr_vghhnTav0Q5jseR3vfGI4kVrYVXxG2p0Y8BbjbvXv5ovCMbvknIRzGNb1GP-XZj6UHeOdUAtYpzRrynL8PBa7n-8nXMKi_2QYGWeLDN-eaDoyaxfBtA1zXhDxbwLG0t/s1600/2014-02-02+001+027.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglkcTO-lj3Bpmr_vghhnTav0Q5jseR3vfGI4kVrYVXxG2p0Y8BbjbvXv5ovCMbvknIRzGNb1GP-XZj6UHeOdUAtYpzRrynL8PBa7n-8nXMKi_2QYGWeLDN-eaDoyaxfBtA1zXhDxbwLG0t/s320/2014-02-02+001+027.JPG" /></a></div><br />
It provides a meaningful new context for many of the New York Public Library’s treasures: the copy of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland that belonged to Alice Liddell, the child for whom Lewis Carroll wrote it; a rare 1666 illustrated children’s edition of Aesop’s fables that survived the Great Fire of London; Nathaniel Hawthorne’s family copy of Mother Goose, with annotations stating some passages were too scary to read to their children; the manuscript of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden; Mary Poppins author P. L. Travers’s parrot-head umbrella; recordings of E.B. White reading excerpts of Charlotte’s Web; and the original Winnie-the-Pooh stuffed animals; among others." (NYPL press release)<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9G1BAmHZuDlHqdqvmzWzU3uiuZYL_Ns8oZEpd8r4ZTcFp9qCv8FBZvJqtLw_SIo0dBbqjtowhf1Np8JEi2Z2DenDeJsXDIAMp3SeOIvOQhm35L-CtbSPD0Tumi8rZwUB4-fNIRs7YFO6k/s1600/2014-02-02+001+017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9G1BAmHZuDlHqdqvmzWzU3uiuZYL_Ns8oZEpd8r4ZTcFp9qCv8FBZvJqtLw_SIo0dBbqjtowhf1Np8JEi2Z2DenDeJsXDIAMp3SeOIvOQhm35L-CtbSPD0Tumi8rZwUB4-fNIRs7YFO6k/s400/2014-02-02+001+017.JPG" /></a></div><br />
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It was emotional for me, both to revisit the (imaginary) places I had inhabited as a child and to encounter the books from my own children's childhood, because I was returning from a trip during which I had to make decisions about a lot of things to keep or give away, including quite a few children's books. With Matt we decided which books to give away, which ones to hold onto for now, and some I carried back with me. <br />
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A while ago I was tagged in one of those Facebook challenges: List the first 10 books that come to mind. The books that immediately came to my mind were children's books: The books that I read over and over as a child… and then the books that I read over and over to my children. These books are the talismans of parent-child ritual. <br />
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I quickly whipped off my list and posted it to my friend's wall. My books included Goodnight Moon, The Very Hungry Caterpillar, Love You Forever. Other people listed great literary oeuvres and philosophical treatises. I felt a bit embarrassed by my kiddie list but those are the books that always come back to my mind. Children's books are our first explorations of the imagined world, the world beyond the one we experience. They shape our sense of identity, allow us to imagine and explore, and introduce us to the notion of what is universal. <br />
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Books matter. Children's books matter.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1U0tEZkJuHdVClY0vQB7ug2kFV08vQHmD47ODvZ-tIU6EBz3kmhexv3v2p3VqlLzMcm1ImIbo3s1cfln50aZ8xCQAVyT7vZsq6gNGIhqIDvL-ZGwod0WrSgI1zRhFwthLpMRYWSQpfkTM/s1600/2014-02-02+001+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1U0tEZkJuHdVClY0vQB7ug2kFV08vQHmD47ODvZ-tIU6EBz3kmhexv3v2p3VqlLzMcm1ImIbo3s1cfln50aZ8xCQAVyT7vZsq6gNGIhqIDvL-ZGwod0WrSgI1zRhFwthLpMRYWSQpfkTM/s640/2014-02-02+001+015.JPG" /></a></div><br />
At the exhibit there is a series of quotes by authors about books and libraries, printed on library book cards. Sorry about the picture quality.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRx5kXd6hzsXjf6UqHCxMHUOrHXKGEQ_6Lkt_8RCaKindQr_aMR659uJtYvx040gmtLizwphyphenhyphenXV2YQwvC-37IVioEXoL9Fy-PqYsLMn1zd9PBl1Mq98zntoH55Xyk9UtDmqfZtuUVCHzsY/s1600/2014-02-02+001+021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRx5kXd6hzsXjf6UqHCxMHUOrHXKGEQ_6Lkt_8RCaKindQr_aMR659uJtYvx040gmtLizwphyphenhyphenXV2YQwvC-37IVioEXoL9Fy-PqYsLMn1zd9PBl1Mq98zntoH55Xyk9UtDmqfZtuUVCHzsY/s400/2014-02-02+001+021.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXyQSnSuDYmHI7rmgKMvQ701Rq2o3CUhpG5QDa6c1X6yo4_gKWOg6RMLKTMhWCwkwtah5kvc0KS_XOlHAZDfEufaBotaHQsWO6ZcAyva1EVULGPrVJrWVsKOX_7-9JKJzZc6hjTUOnTqn/s1600/2014-02-02+001+022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXyQSnSuDYmHI7rmgKMvQ701Rq2o3CUhpG5QDa6c1X6yo4_gKWOg6RMLKTMhWCwkwtah5kvc0KS_XOlHAZDfEufaBotaHQsWO6ZcAyva1EVULGPrVJrWVsKOX_7-9JKJzZc6hjTUOnTqn/s400/2014-02-02+001+022.JPG" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj55lhY7HUBSpbGLZ-ahaBlyTcZp15excZn0TwaJVP2MLjsnMU-ljTYzCHa8UG-B_DhQ413fqdY3BGf6TIqQhiWiEgM-u82ObeJRWJQnJ0OSFV5UV2ZR7aHUoTfrTCZukuKW8osFIP-9Qmq/s1600/2014-02-02+001+023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj55lhY7HUBSpbGLZ-ahaBlyTcZp15excZn0TwaJVP2MLjsnMU-ljTYzCHa8UG-B_DhQ413fqdY3BGf6TIqQhiWiEgM-u82ObeJRWJQnJ0OSFV5UV2ZR7aHUoTfrTCZukuKW8osFIP-9Qmq/s640/2014-02-02+001+023.JPG" /></a></div>Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-15597263989960417282014-01-28T11:27:00.000-05:002014-02-05T23:27:22.661-05:00Return to El Dorado<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVDF4-P14iPw9j5xswsV6NIVdyIVMoibTj1fQQgzeeNWcKKepx0ROTwdJhP7iGBhKkdaJwrW7eaEdhsjGVjqHtkvQzX1nXvkejk49nzVOTMxdaifp32hkZaoR02fDWPGHzk4rql11uk85a/s1600/2014-01-28+001+013.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVDF4-P14iPw9j5xswsV6NIVdyIVMoibTj1fQQgzeeNWcKKepx0ROTwdJhP7iGBhKkdaJwrW7eaEdhsjGVjqHtkvQzX1nXvkejk49nzVOTMxdaifp32hkZaoR02fDWPGHzk4rql11uk85a/s400/2014-01-28+001+013.JPG" /></a></div>Gold is one of the reasons why the Spaniards were drawn to South America. The pre-Columbian inhabitants of the region were renowned goldsmiths and the metal was abundant in the mountains. If you are ever in Bogota, be sure to check out the Gold Museum http://www.banrepcultural.org/gold-museum. The Gold Museum in Cartagena is also very good.<br />
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Laguna de Guatavita, a volcanic crater near Sequilé, in the high plains of Cundinamarca in the Eastern Cordillera of the Andes, was reputedly one of the sacred lakes of the Muisca tribe, and is widely thought to be the basis for the legend of El Dorado. According to the legend, this lake is where the Muiscas celebrated a ritual in which the tribal chief, the Zipa (named "El Dorado" by the Conquistadores), would make offerings of gold, silver, and precious stones, covering himself in gold dust and diving into the lake. The lake has been repeatedly combed by treasure-hunters, and a few artefacts of gold and silver have been found, which appear to substantiate the story although mythological quantities have never been discovered. The depths of the crater, however, have never been reached. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh24JN1nmvMZ5M9tmPvIfbG45KJdi_ucqQrd2PXtLjw9qNOQ_QFuMm5NYBESm3HVxmZaXduML8UvxFms5LWtOUNoYnT9pdcTIvsSvmBxRu7vI5swDSnOYeX463SxCDFVd3bZGEcvTVNWzmB/s1600/2014-01-28+001+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh24JN1nmvMZ5M9tmPvIfbG45KJdi_ucqQrd2PXtLjw9qNOQ_QFuMm5NYBESm3HVxmZaXduML8UvxFms5LWtOUNoYnT9pdcTIvsSvmBxRu7vI5swDSnOYeX463SxCDFVd3bZGEcvTVNWzmB/s200/2014-01-28+001+005.JPG" /></a></div>In January 2005, as I was riding my bike to gym, I encountered three people walking side by side on the bike path. I swung out to avoid them but swerved too far, hit the street light with my handlebar, and fell off my bike. I was shaken but okay. I picked myself up and kept going. It was not until later that I noticed that my gold wedding band was completely crushed. The ring had taken the impact of the crash and had prevented my finger from being crushed between the handlebar and the street light. The ring was now a narrow oval, just barely the width of my finger bone. At the local hardware store they put my hand into the vice, and carefully tightened it to press the ring open enough to slip it off my finger. I meant to have it repaired, but the crushed ring sat in my jewellery box for weeks. It was then that I knew that my marriage was over. Two months later I separated from my husband.<br />
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The ring remained in my jewellery box. Nine years later I am back in Colombia, signing the divorce papers. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNqTZXEILKatTOGcnoo2x_twFPm90kD-qx5yHy7fTgd2NCZrOJt6qpntKPrFI_6zfEhdGptx-o9aE_7MtsnvlC2NZuZiCgRGtx1ESt5fvQFH9Hk9iNk5uuT0RY7BdeyTIGz6POw4T1Rq7E/s1600/2014-01-28+001+012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNqTZXEILKatTOGcnoo2x_twFPm90kD-qx5yHy7fTgd2NCZrOJt6qpntKPrFI_6zfEhdGptx-o9aE_7MtsnvlC2NZuZiCgRGtx1ESt5fvQFH9Hk9iNk5uuT0RY7BdeyTIGz6POw4T1Rq7E/s320/2014-01-28+001+012.JPG" /></a></div>It was clear and cold last night. The pre-dawn mist was hanging over the grass and the lake in Parque Simón Bolívar this morning. On the outcropping where I used to practice tai chi, I took the ring from my pocket, stretched back my arm, and threw it as far as I could into the lake. The ring entered the water with barely a splash, sinking to rest forever in the cold depths. It is fitting that the token of my love should be buried there. I lived in Colombia for 23 years, most of my adult life. Part of me will always belong to that country where I lived and loved. As I walked away, the sun was coming up over the mountains and the mist was starting to dissipate.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9wVTWce4PgOo0cachwqShFWTqBud1HWbIxd4XJg4JT5kCtSXZTMwJmXamINybqw0qFL4FfXHGBCUML6-oQ4rXDTorzgzhh__2K0kKa2SQVFw3epYFiK2b0JGXx1qzRC8bh2_23yjxQSLU/s1600/2014-01-28+001+015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9wVTWce4PgOo0cachwqShFWTqBud1HWbIxd4XJg4JT5kCtSXZTMwJmXamINybqw0qFL4FfXHGBCUML6-oQ4rXDTorzgzhh__2K0kKa2SQVFw3epYFiK2b0JGXx1qzRC8bh2_23yjxQSLU/s320/2014-01-28+001+015.JPG" /></a></div>Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-26623910476480913552014-01-26T14:11:00.000-05:002014-01-26T14:11:10.476-05:00Letting Go: The Things You Take With You and The Things You Leave BehindThe hardest part about giving up the apartment in Bogota is what it meant to me. It was mine. I didn't actually own it --my mother did-- but I had carte blanche to set it up exactly as I wanted. And I did.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6LavQQ_9mvlWCq_oxt_qLYgWrFfSympv90tv9qiEV-0Ad8SNrRsgqKSIEaIKD5bCd_EqGmlc3vYyW4rIQbIlL2DgoCsqdEvRKmQGa7XSYa2E14a2wvUjsvLhQ79VDCsN1O8vbGdctB4cJ/s1600/0118Flowers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6LavQQ_9mvlWCq_oxt_qLYgWrFfSympv90tv9qiEV-0Ad8SNrRsgqKSIEaIKD5bCd_EqGmlc3vYyW4rIQbIlL2DgoCsqdEvRKmQGa7XSYa2E14a2wvUjsvLhQ79VDCsN1O8vbGdctB4cJ/s320/0118Flowers.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRtJpaqjUokOYCt9rE8vyYDfKhZtb6zNAtDdSQnC65c3EdZaPypyGnBVzInyUvn6ZIN1up1hd1Qmy5bbi3s3vFvx_uX3HT1EVADQn7C8oPgt8wqMXrcn8p-4zHussp6ZhO56WuQka5ZgDk/s1600/Red+living.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRtJpaqjUokOYCt9rE8vyYDfKhZtb6zNAtDdSQnC65c3EdZaPypyGnBVzInyUvn6ZIN1up1hd1Qmy5bbi3s3vFvx_uX3HT1EVADQn7C8oPgt8wqMXrcn8p-4zHussp6ZhO56WuQka5ZgDk/s320/Red+living.jpg" /></a></div><b>The Living Room: Space, Colour, Light, Proportion.</b><br />
I painted two walls of the living room red. Bold and bright. It made me happy. The color set off the painting by young Colombian artist Jhon Jairo Jiménez Robayo, a brightly coloured yet dark, seductive cityscape that insinuates both excitement and eternal damnation. It takes up the entire wall and probably only works in the space because of the 10 ft ceiling. The view looking the other way in the living room way is peaceful. An abstract by the same artist, inspired by the sea in San Andrés, occupies the entire opposite wall. The light blue cushions on the wrought-iron couch suggest a tropical veranda. The coffee table in the centre was made by ceramic artist Camilo Torres. The living room was energizing looking one way, and calming looking the other. The overall feeling was playful, like living in a child's paint box; primary red, blue, yellow. It had just the right balance.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4TsPbUv-HZB-B6Kcb3dYWVSw2DTeJeqEO4DVcNJFrFL9CC1-YDpwm6vWt8d4_20CQtXH8SjSFB4d2tNrso8rbbg91MHwkR-f1pWw3HGS2_j6kzdypWv9q6eWDviGbvdeUSildkB4EvkG/s1600/Kitchen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY4TsPbUv-HZB-B6Kcb3dYWVSw2DTeJeqEO4DVcNJFrFL9CC1-YDpwm6vWt8d4_20CQtXH8SjSFB4d2tNrso8rbbg91MHwkR-f1pWw3HGS2_j6kzdypWv9q6eWDviGbvdeUSildkB4EvkG/s320/Kitchen.jpg" /></a></div><b>The Kitchen</b><br />
Camilo also made the ceramic countertops in the kitchen. To fit the narrow space of the galley kitchen, the counters on either side are 55 cm deep, leaving 1.10 m in the centre. Just enough room. The counters were also my height. Over the counters and under them, I had as many cupboards made as possible. That way nothing ever had to clutter and disrupt the beauty of the countertops. I had a gas stove, inheritance from Jenny, a refrigerator with the biggest crisper drawers and freezer that would fit the available space, a dishwasher that I got by trading Jenny's old refrigerator to Estela, and a wine rack over the pantry. The ceiling rack for the pots and pans was a gift and I loved the way that the cookware looked on display. I had bought the set of pots and pans during the year that I took off from university between my undergraduate and master's degree and I worked in the Housewares Department at Eaton's Cavendish Mall. It was a cook's kitchen with everything perfectly at hand and I loved it. <br />
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<b>My Room</b><br />
In my bedroom the wall behind the bed was hyacinth blue, with a painting by Ecuadoran artist Fernando Toledo. The painting reflects the colours of the Andes. I brought this painting back with me a year and a half ago. The other walls were white, with two black and white abstract nude photographs by Houston artist Paul Talley, which I will take with me on this trip. The view outside the fifth floor windows looks into the tree tops. I called my bedroom the tree house. <br />
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<b>The Boys' Rooms</b><br />
The boys had a similar sense of appropriation of the space. This was the first place where they each had their own bedroom, painted the colour of their choice. Matt's room was blue, and he always meant to paint a mural on the wall, but somehow it didn't happen. He had a lovely collection of cactuses in the window, several of which were inherited from his friend Diego when he moved to Mexico. William's room was red and yellow. He wanted to paint it bright yellow, which can be a bit strident. We compromised on the shade of yellow in his giraffe sheets, a tone thereafter known as giraffe yellow. Red wall, yellow wall, dark blue blinds: three solid color fields, his room was abstract expressionism. <br />
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***<br />
<b>The Things You Take With You and the Things You Leave Behind</b><br />
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I had already brought many of the most precious things with me: the photo albums, the Christmas stockings and cookie cutters, the 1961 copy of The Night Before Christmas with illustrations by Gyo Fujikawa, the cosy fleece blanket that was the boys' crib blanket and became the nap blanket, a few serving pieces from the Carmen de Viboral dishes, the ceramic vase by Cuban artist Zurina Verdaguer. <br />
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<b>Things I Am Taking With Me Now</b><br />
My good cooking knife from the kitchen. <br />
The annual letters that the boys wrote to Santa Claus when they were little.<br />
The copies of the letters that I wrote home when I moved to Colombia in 1989.<br />
The red and green pepper lights that garlanded the pot hanger in the kitchen. Technically these are Christmas lights but I think that every kitchen needs some festive lights year-round and peppers are a proper culinary motif. <br />
I am having VHS home video tapes transferred to DVD format.<br />
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The two Jhon Jairo Jiménez paintings will follow eventually. They are large, rigid pieces and will require special shipping. I am not moving them now because I would have nowhere to put them, but having made the decision that I will bring them one day makes me happy. <br />
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<b>Things We Gave Away</b><br />
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Previously, I had already sold most of my books, CDs, and gave away a ton of clothes.<br />
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On this trip Matt and I pulled the storage boxes out of the attic and made some hard decisions about what to take, what to keep, and what to give away.<br />
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The camping gear: The MEC tent and sleeping bag, day packs, folding camp stools (the latter used more at theatre festivals than camping). My worn hiking stick is actually the item that I find hardest to part with. These and my set of specialized baking supplies, a small collection of odd ingredients, essences and tools, went to Sally, my best hiking, theatre and literary festival buddy. <br />
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The Christmas tree and decorations. These went to my friend Estela who had never put up a tree. In keeping with Colombian tradition, she always had a nativity scene in her living room. Now she will have both a tree and a nativity scene and I am glad that the tree has "found a good home."<br />
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The wooden train set: Over the years the boys had accumulate pieces for the wooden train set. It had loads of track, a bridge, a roundhouse, and several trains. Matt made the decision to let these go. They are going to the Cigarra daycare centre in the Puertos del Paraíso neighbourhood of the Ciudad Bolívar district in south Bogota. Sally's sister-in-law Carolyn sponsors the daycare. It is so well organized and provides an essential service in a depressed part of the city. http://www.cigarraonline.org/ <br />
The Fisher Price school bus and cars, the foam alphabet carpet, and assorted baby clothes are going there too. Everything will be well appreciated. I can't think of a better thing to do with these.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8YmuwNxMp11NmXM4i2k8-Wb2hT1DUTwv2pO8ceKqC9q7fkz0j26-OmBg6OOtGKKfyQ0xKGbUTdUXTkGY1GExHiEcz-Zg_fb44Q3dMlFu9285eB-VYv1LFesciJQCt1IFD17E45iDBFONu/s1600/CIGARRA4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8YmuwNxMp11NmXM4i2k8-Wb2hT1DUTwv2pO8ceKqC9q7fkz0j26-OmBg6OOtGKKfyQ0xKGbUTdUXTkGY1GExHiEcz-Zg_fb44Q3dMlFu9285eB-VYv1LFesciJQCt1IFD17E45iDBFONu/s320/CIGARRA4.jpg" /></a></div>My knitting needles. Julie from book club got those. She hosts a knitting and quilting circle. Someone will appreciate getting them.<br />
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José Miguel had given me the fondue pot as a Christmas present. It has gone back to him. <br />
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Estela and Leonardo had given me the large crystal vase as a wedding gift. It is too big, heavy, and fragile to transport. It has gone back to her.<br />
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***<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvXC1GAq881C3voZ1HeDd3eRt0acRCE_F4vgxvAHP-G7wwAAGN3_luMupkTgyMyftMzeRHuw7tGRJmlG-lV-hB5847Bx4YqvEujbRhfrGh_1LO9yol74oRR2wO_Bv6WjZeaO-c3E8t3tAx/s1600/2014-01-25+001+007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvXC1GAq881C3voZ1HeDd3eRt0acRCE_F4vgxvAHP-G7wwAAGN3_luMupkTgyMyftMzeRHuw7tGRJmlG-lV-hB5847Bx4YqvEujbRhfrGh_1LO9yol74oRR2wO_Bv6WjZeaO-c3E8t3tAx/s320/2014-01-25+001+007.JPG" /></a></div>Sharon said to me, "Don't burden your children with things." She is right. The fact that I feel sentimental about certain items does not mean that my children do. In practice though, Matt is more sentimental than I am. We pulled the boxes out of the attic yesterday and spent several hours sorting through them. The process was hard on me, but I think that it was even harder on him. Letting go of the artefacts of childhood cost him. We appreciate things not for their monetary value but for their symbolic significance. The past is what forms our identity and it is necessary to recognize and value things that we loved and lived. William, at least on the surface, is less sentimental about material things. I am bringing him his giraffe sheets and elefantinho. We packed cow in the box to store, along with some of the childhood books. <br />
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Getting rid of things can be liberating, but it is also important to pause and appreciate their significance and ask whether the memento should be brought forward into the present. We are the product of everything that we have lived, and the past deserves respect, if not celebration. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWGZs448r70hitYcz7XnO329Zj0yk9LMRmhiBlJ3i022ClNAOfMQ6FClA2LBjrmMdAtgLjTnm-qNfk49roKWgbD27UGPk7-FRIbpHbrylRStad9Jm_OBHzu_8qj1b-NIf9kljmlbQF2xHw/s1600/Table.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWGZs448r70hitYcz7XnO329Zj0yk9LMRmhiBlJ3i022ClNAOfMQ6FClA2LBjrmMdAtgLjTnm-qNfk49roKWgbD27UGPk7-FRIbpHbrylRStad9Jm_OBHzu_8qj1b-NIf9kljmlbQF2xHw/s320/Table.jpg" /></a></div>Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-4263569330907023872014-01-18T22:25:00.000-05:002014-01-18T22:25:06.733-05:00Unfinished BusinessWhen I departed from Bogota in July 2012, I left business unfinished and a bunch of stuff shoved up in the attic. Now, a year and a half later, it is time to go deal with it.<br />
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I am looking forward to seeing friends whom I have missed and snatching a break from the Canadian winter, but at the same time I have a feeling of heaviness because I am closing a chapter in my life.<br />
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I didn't plan to spend 23 years of my life in Bogota. In 1989 I went down with a two-year CUSO contract, which was renewed for a third year. Then I took another two-year contract with different organization.<br />
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I met José Miguel in 1991. We fell in love at first sight (seriously). I ended up terminating the second work contract a few months early because we were expecting our first child. Matt was born in 1994. William was born in 1997.<br />
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I stopped working in libraries and documentation centers and became certified as an official translator. In 1999 I started working for the press translation service where I am still employed.<br />
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In 2005 José Miguel and I separated. Moving back to Canada was never really an option. Even if our marriage was over, the boys still needed their father and it wouldn't be right for them to grow up without him. I would also have needed to have his permission to take them out of the country. We didn't get divorced immediately for a number of reasons. Conflict avoidance and procrastination held me back.<br />
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In 2009 I threw a party to mark twenty years of living in Colombia. By then I was already thinking about moving back to Canada.<br />
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Matt was on track to graduate in June 2012. I saw that as my opportunity to come back too. My plan was to go to Ottawa, where I hoped to be able to find work as a Spanish-English translator. William also wanted to come to Canada and he had been accepted at a high school specialized in fine arts in Ottawa. Matt had a conditional acceptance at Université de Montréal, pending his grades on his final exams.<br />
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Then everything fell apart. My mother was told that she had entered the final stage of her cancer and had six months to a year to live. I dropped everything and in July went to Montreal to stay with her. Matt did not make the grade he needed on his final exams (off by 0.8 percent) and did not get into Université de Montréal. He started studying at Universidad Nacional de Colombia in Bogota, his fallback school. William started high school in Ottawa, living with my sister and her husband. We were all over the map, and it was hard on everyone.<br />
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My mother got worse and then she got better. She got better to the point that my presence was no longer needed. As of September 2014 I was able to move to Ottawa and get an apartment with William. William loves his school and has produced some amazing pieces of art. Matt did a year of civil engineering at Universidad Nacional de Colombia, and with that under his belt he is reapplying for Université de Montréal. After eight, nearly nine, years, I have brought the papers I need to file for my divorce. José Miguel and I have reached an amicable agreement. <br />
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This trip is to bring closure to some of the unfinished business in my life. Between the social commitments and sorting the stuff in the attic, I will take some time these days to look back and take stock of what it meant to spend 23 years of my adult life in Colombia.Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-12038365430939196762014-01-05T22:04:00.000-05:002014-01-05T22:04:14.373-05:00Twelfth Night: Misruled by Emotion<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYDUijGD3hx_axavtwmfMG0ptS3hv3GCPvMEoGduMY5OuBMkx1m9aOt7uTiupaDoIsatfCcbNvoNLqvbQf7m1xxBwErfw3qkMAjEMD0AjmFUXkRnWGrlw2v_Oz5gZ_joDLB2G0H7YI0521/s1600/Twelfth_Night_Image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYDUijGD3hx_axavtwmfMG0ptS3hv3GCPvMEoGduMY5OuBMkx1m9aOt7uTiupaDoIsatfCcbNvoNLqvbQf7m1xxBwErfw3qkMAjEMD0AjmFUXkRnWGrlw2v_Oz5gZ_joDLB2G0H7YI0521/s320/Twelfth_Night_Image.jpg" /></a></div>In much of Western Christianity, Epiphany, January 5-6, is marked in commemoration of the visit of the Magi to the Baby Jesus. It celebrates the revelation of the Christ Child to humanity, and the beginning of great changes to a civilization. In the same way, what is known as an epiphany moment is the revelation of an insight that can change the course of one's life. <br />
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I had an epiphany moment in October: a chance comment by a friend unleashed a string of realizations about how I felt and what I needed to do. My friend's intention was not to give me life-changing advice, but it triggered awareness that brought clarity about what was and was not working in my life. <br />
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I ended a relationship that was not right for me. With newfound consciousness and freedom to act, I set about contacting someone who had been in the background of my mind and my heart for a while. What I got back was a friendly and gentle rebuff. I accepted it, at least outwardly, with grace. But inside my emotions were slipping into chaos. Being in touch with one's emotions is generally a good thing, but they can misrule us. <br />
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In the Church of England, Epiphany coincides with Twelfth Night, the conclusion of the Twelve Days of Christmas (there is some debate about whether Twelfth Night is the evening of January 5 or comes after midnight on January 6). On the Twelfth Night the Lord of Misrule is chosen who symbolizes the world turned upside down. Under the Lord of Misrule, the masters become the servants of the household and the servants become the masters for that night. <br />
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Shakespeare's Twelfth Night explores the theme of the love-sick fool, blinded by the folly of misdirected desire. Everyone is in love with the wrong person.<br />
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Orsino and Olivia are enthralled in their own notion of love. Orsino is obsessed with Olivia. Olivia is unavailable because she has declared that she will mourn her dead brother for seven years. The two of them are so focussed on their inner worlds that they have lost touch with the outer world. Orsino, for all his professed love of Olivia, does not actually pursue her and try to bring her out of her shell of mourning, but rather sends Cesario to press his suit. <br />
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It is Viola, and her disguise as Cesario, who turns Osino and Olivia's worlds upside down and allows them to escape their self-obsession. Viola/Cesario represents the real flesh and blood world, the new perspective that allows the self-absorbed Orsino and Olivia to reengage with society. <br />
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Malvolio provides a delightfully pathetic subplot in misguided love. He has let himself become convinced that the reverence he feels for Olivia is love. Because of his obsession with her, Malvolio is easy prey for the pranksters Sir Toby and Maria who egg him on by writing a love letter to Malvolio and leading him to believe that Olivia is his secret admirer. By taking himself too seriously, he sets himself up to be let down. Malvolio is vain enough to let himself be flattered that Olivia could love him, without ever having exchanged any word of love with her. Still, he follows the letter's suggestions and winds up making a fool of himself.<br />
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This is one of my favourites among Shakespeare's plays. Human fragility, vanity, hope, desire and love can drive us to comedy and pathos. In love we are all fools, and I am no exception. Like Olivia, I found myself obsessing and the obsession ate away at me. I still have not found a Cesario, but putting the feelings into words helps provide some perspective, and hopefully some wisdom, to forgive the foolishness and get on with living. <br />
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***<br />
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I saw a fabulous production of Twelfth Night at the Stratford Festival in 2011. http://noessinomivida.blogspot.ca/2011/07/winters-tale-twelfth-night.html<br />
This production was filmed as a part of the Cineplex high-definition theatre-on-film series. I haven't seen the film version but if it is ever playing in your area, I would highly recommend it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLEoVRjSLdGZY_yJrLdPSrhzGwYO6k0Q3BJEj0ASSIzDh7WTs31ywC90jbEgkUHc2v_l_lQCOFMq3PoKr__9eSyMyJRKpr0zk5IxkUr1haBpgE2-R0nv5rVf7AtNmlhoJEHGjIhpzSQNw4/s1600/12thNightMusic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLEoVRjSLdGZY_yJrLdPSrhzGwYO6k0Q3BJEj0ASSIzDh7WTs31ywC90jbEgkUHc2v_l_lQCOFMq3PoKr__9eSyMyJRKpr0zk5IxkUr1haBpgE2-R0nv5rVf7AtNmlhoJEHGjIhpzSQNw4/s320/12thNightMusic.jpg" /></a></div>Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-60676878672773035502013-12-14T13:56:00.000-05:002013-12-14T13:56:05.569-05:00Secret Celebrity Crush<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtxrxTxQhe9isIqrGHW_locPI5ltN7bxgjOpBpwAz_n6DzFwcN5jdRRdMQSZiBGRFpCX3WVHF58fYCNd-JXY7jW6G6ZB_rgfDQn826suEAvgZ8uzDDQgapNbIRwepZyAwBsLvPpM3LpQ4i/s1600/anthony_bourdain_parts_unknown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtxrxTxQhe9isIqrGHW_locPI5ltN7bxgjOpBpwAz_n6DzFwcN5jdRRdMQSZiBGRFpCX3WVHF58fYCNd-JXY7jW6G6ZB_rgfDQn826suEAvgZ8uzDDQgapNbIRwepZyAwBsLvPpM3LpQ4i/s320/anthony_bourdain_parts_unknown.jpg" /></a></div>I have a secret celebrity crush on Anthony Bourdain. The smart-mouth badass chef, author of Kitchen Confidential and globetrotting host of the culinary and cultural shows "Parts Unknown" and "No Reservations." Starting from his own experience as a chef, he uses food as the pretext for cultural exploration. During his travels he is as likely to be meeting with the elite of the cooking world, as he is to be eating street food or meals cooked on smoky woodstoves with the humblest of peasants. Wielding a cooking knife, a wine glass or swigging from a bottle of beer with equal aplomb, while engaging in witty repartee, he celebrates creativity, slams pretentiousness, appreciates subtle detail, and looks at the geopolitical forces that shape the modern world. <br />
<br />
I could see myself as part of that life. I would love to go trekking around the world, sampling the food and drink, talking to the people, creating those connections and then writing about them and sharing them with the world. I could do that, even if my own experience has consisted of spending much more time with the peasants and plebes than the powerbrokers. <br />
<br />
Anthony Bourdain, however, is completely unaware of my existence. He doesn't know who I am, he doesn't read my blog, and he isn't in the market for a new relationship. He has not been pursuing me or asked me out, even when he was on the dating market. It's not his fault that I have fixated on him. <br />
<br />
That, however, does not change the way I feel. Last year I asked the universe for a wish and my wish came true. What I wished for and what I got, taught me that I could still feel things that I hadn't felt in years, even though the object of my affection did not reciprocate the feeling. I felt, and it took my breath away.<br />
<br />
Just because I feel something doesn't mean that the feeling will necessarily be returned. I've been on the other side of that equation too, being the object of affection and having to gently but clearly make it known that I don't feel the same way. Life is unfair in that way, but it really is a "suck it up, Buttercup" situation. <br />
<br />
I took some wonderful humanities classes in Cegep. In one of them, "The Individual and the System," we were asked to participate in an exercise in vulnerability. Toward the end of the semester, when we knew each other fairly well, we were asked (challenged) to pick the person that we most cared about and then say to that person out loud, I choose you. I had worked with Chris on a group project. We had friendly, flirty relationship. There was no doubt in my mind I would choose him and I felt confident that, out of everyone in the class, he would choose me too. An awkward silence reigned as everyone looked around expectantly to see who would make the first move. Surprisingly it was Stacy who stepped forward. She said to Chris, "I choose you." He said that he chose her too. I was shocked. I was devastated. I had thought that we had a special connection, and apparently I was mistaken. I spoke up and said that I had chosen him too. Then I stepped back and allowed myself to absorb the impact of what I felt and what I had done. If I had kept my mouth shut and said nothing, someone else might have picked me. But I said what I felt, effectively taking myself out of the running for anyone else at that time. I started avoiding Chris after that.<br />
<br />
He caught up with me a few weeks later. He said that he figured that both Stacy and I would choose him and he would accept whoever spoke first. Diplomatic, if not very authentic. He and Stacy did not start dating. Chris asked me out. We started seeing each other and he became my first serious boyfriend. My memories of him are all good. But more than this relationship, it was the course that left me with lessons that I have carried forward through life. It taught me to own up to what I feel. That when I do admit to what I feel, I risk being hurt. And that just because I feel something, doesn't mean that it will be reciprocated. The most recently added lesson was not to get so caught up in the indulgence of my own feelings that I can't see any other options; stay open.<br />
<br />
***<br />
<br />
If Anthony Bourdain becomes available, he really should consider me as a potential partner. In the meantime I wish him well, and I'll send another wish out to the universe. This time I'll be a little more careful about what I wish for.Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-70664030386864974142013-12-04T20:15:00.000-05:002013-12-04T20:15:36.114-05:00My Life of CrimeMy son asked me, the other day, if I had ever stolen anything… <br />
<br />
I had to think about it for a few minutes, because stealing isn't a habit of mine, but I do have to confess to a few shady incidents in my past.<br />
<br />
<b>The Tiny Tim Fund</b> <br />
I was 13 and my sister was 9 that December when our step-sister and brother suggested that we go carolling. It sounded like a fun idea. When they said that we could take a container and collect money for the Tiny Tim Fund and then keep the money for ourselves, it sounded like an even better idea to a couple of kids with no income and a not-fully-formed moral compass. We had a great time. It was one of those clear, perfect windless winter nights when the stars are bright. We tromping through the fresh snowy streets of Hudson, going door to door, singing our hearts out, and people were kindly disposed and generous to us with our Tiny Tim Fund margarine container. The next day our father dropped us off at Fairview Shopping Centre. My sister and I were excited that we would get to spend our money. When we called our mother to pick us up, Penny told her about our shopping expedition and how we had earned the money. Our mother was furious. She explained in no uncertain terms that what we had done was dishonest and wrong. She told us to go and put the remaining money in the Salvation Army kettle. My little sister was upset that she had to give up her "hard-earned money." I knew that we had to give up our ill-gotten gains because collecting money under false pretences wasn't cool, but I didn't really understand who was losing out because of our actions. <br />
<br />
I have since put things right with the Tiny Tim Fund. The fund, operated by the Montreal Children's Hospital Foundation, provides services to families experiencing difficult financial circumstances in connection with coping with a medical crisis. The foundation still fund-raises.<br />
http://childrenfoundation.com/your-gifts-at-work/impact/tiny-tim.php<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3OfHrrNXOpwhe7bXNDBMX_X6fL7UZ0x5ocd09F3lKZbz2S2jYIX9e7PuWNBPpgKgbFd56Zamw0i6EsUgw_PX-4RCMoD2fh5Le6BvvYB0efuC_jrRjTHxziBSMHpq1pfluWuoscTJgA7NO/s1600/buseta-bogota.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3OfHrrNXOpwhe7bXNDBMX_X6fL7UZ0x5ocd09F3lKZbz2S2jYIX9e7PuWNBPpgKgbFd56Zamw0i6EsUgw_PX-4RCMoD2fh5Le6BvvYB0efuC_jrRjTHxziBSMHpq1pfluWuoscTJgA7NO/s400/buseta-bogota.jpg" /></a></div><b>Change from the Bus Fare</b><br />
One day during our year of economic crisis, I had taken the bus to the grocery store. That year, 1998, became known in the family as the year of no animal protein, when putting anything at all on the table was a challenge. Bus drivers in Bogota make change for the passengers… if they have change. The driver didn't have change when I paid the 200 peso bus fare with a 2,000 peso bill. When I went to get off, I asked for my change. The driver asked what I had paid, and I told him "dos mil." He, however, understood "diez mil" (10,000). He gave me the change and I hesitated for a moment as I realized the misunderstanding, but I took the money, got off the bus, and went into the grocery store and bought food for my family. I felt guilty about it because Bogota bus drivers don't earn a whole lot of money. They rent their buses from the company, and what they earn in excess of the rental fee is what they get to take home. Basically, I took money from the bus driver. I bought beans, rice, cooking oil, vegetables, and milk. We ate. I felt badly for the bus driver though.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5IloQaayM6eYQt1CzR1FRkaxhFwCYLiNkAupA6deFzSHjzLkPVZWZhs0hqIOjE0TmkDMBVRFK8E9ytKx4sJQRDvGX-xtluOBsrrjOR0p94YHyX7PQueuKs0rbbXBd_pRTWU28Tc5NIsfx/s1600/Codorniu-Brut_largwe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5IloQaayM6eYQt1CzR1FRkaxhFwCYLiNkAupA6deFzSHjzLkPVZWZhs0hqIOjE0TmkDMBVRFK8E9ytKx4sJQRDvGX-xtluOBsrrjOR0p94YHyX7PQueuKs0rbbXBd_pRTWU28Tc5NIsfx/s400/Codorniu-Brut_largwe.jpg" /></a></div><b>Cafam and the Spanish Sparkling Wine</b><br />
My first year in Bogota I joined a gym. I loved going to the gym and in particular I loved the dance classes. It gave me the chance to be able to observe and understand how the steps are done and how to coordinate the moves with the syncopated salsa beat. I became a good dancer. I kept at it and I became a great dancer. My little local gym held an aerobics competition and I entered it and won. Buoyed by this success, several months later I entered the city-wide aerobics competition hosted by Cafam. <br />
<br />
The day-long competition consisted of learning and performing a series of increasingly complex and physically demanding choreographies. People were eliminated in each round. I made it to the final round. Before the round began, an announcement was made: "We have been informed that there is a professional competitor who is not eligible to compete and who will automatically be disqualified if she does not clarify her situation." We finalists looked at each other, not knowing whom they meant. Nobody stepped forward. The competition continued. I didn't win but it was a tremendously demanding and exhilarating experience. <br />
<br />
After the competition was over a few people came up to me and told me that I was the one who had been disqualified. Someone had said that they had seen me in a professional competition in San Andrés. One, I had never been to San Andrés. Two, the only competition I had been in previously was the one at my local gym.<br />
<br />
I went to Cafam that week and spoke to the person in charge of fitness and recreation services. He was aware of the incident. He told me that the information was confidential and that he could not tell me who had been disqualified, and that if I had had any doubts that they meant me, then I should have clarified it at the time. I hadn't had any doubts at the time: I had no reason to think they meant me.<br />
<br />
A few months later I went to the Cafam store to pick up some sparkling wine for my friend Estela's birthday. Estela has nine brothers and sisters who would be coming to her house for cake and bubbly, so I picked up two bottles. I remember reading the price tag as 1114 pesos. My entire grocery order came to less than 10,000 pesos. At home I looked at the bottles of wine again and saw that the price was 11114 pesos. I felt wave of delight as I realized that Cafam had given me two bottles of Spanish sparkling wine at a tenth of the cost. It was karmic retribution.<br />
<br />
I regret the first two incidents. They were learning experiences. I don't feel guilty about the third one. <br />
<br />
In general, my philosophy is: Give back (or pay) for what you take; Don't take what is not yours; Give a bit more when you can; and Sometimes people take things for a reason.Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-29012141426152732952013-11-21T22:07:00.000-05:002013-11-24T14:21:07.505-05:00Penny and the Pine Pillows<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_H7MRuSvE1ip-kNozYSWRIUvkZtfPPjeujcsa3PrAX0PIB4lQpdRSdAM0Xygc0Q_5yOKVnLkaKM7nAYj9e7kBHJBbwc7dKnNuNyhGrUs7oYYOHtwlyLo47nx2cWJZzEd-DxkVKufFGKKD/s1600/Pine+Cones+on+Beige-300x300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_H7MRuSvE1ip-kNozYSWRIUvkZtfPPjeujcsa3PrAX0PIB4lQpdRSdAM0Xygc0Q_5yOKVnLkaKM7nAYj9e7kBHJBbwc7dKnNuNyhGrUs7oYYOHtwlyLo47nx2cWJZzEd-DxkVKufFGKKD/s400/Pine+Cones+on+Beige-300x300.jpg" /></a></div>It seemed like a good idea at the time when Penny thought she'd make pillows stuffed with pine needles for Christmas. The idea came as we were clearing out stuff from our mother's basement: She flashed back to a memory of the little scented pillow that sat on the back of our grandmother's couch, adding a slight aroma of forest to the air as you leaned back while watching television.<br />
"Do you remember that?" Penny asked.<br />
"Of course I do. Grammie gave me a little pillow like that. I had it for years and then one day I thought it needed a wash it so I put it in the washing machine. The pillow exploded. It looked like someone had dumped a box of shredded wheat in there," I said. "I scooped and scooped out all that I could and then had to run the rinse cycle several times to get the machine clean."<br />
"Mum didn't find out, did she?"<br />
"No, I don't think so."<br />
<br />
In ode to our grandmother's memory and my lost pillow, Penny went out in search of pine needles. Her Boston terriers were a great help, enthusiastically joining the digging as she collected a big bag of needles. Back home she sorted the needles from the pine cones and the branches and contemplated the pile. These need to be broken up, she thought, the pillows never had any pokey bits sticking out.<br />
<br />
Crushing the needles by hand was labour intensive. She looked around the kitchen: The food processor! She managed to pack in a good amount. The blade whirled and the needles began to break. Then they turned into a solid resinous mass. The blade stopped moving, the food processor whined, and a pungent electrical smell filled the kitchen. It took a fair bit of effort to scrape most of the resin out of the bowl of the food processor. After the third run through the dishwasher, the bowl was reasonably clean. The blade, however, remained with resin stuck to its the lower side.<br />
<br />
The needles were obviously still too damp so she transferred them into a cloth bag that she put in front of the vent to dry. When the furnace came on in the morning, the aroma that filled the room wasn't quite coniferous forest but more feral. Winnie the dog went over to have a sniff and immediately started to lift her leg against the bag. "Bad dog! Stop that!" Penny said.<br />
<br />
The heck with this, Penny thought. I'll just buy the materials and make the pillows. She went online and checked what she needed: ground balsam fir and cedar needles, plus essential oils to liven up the scent.<br />
"Why don't you use some of the cedar shavings from the workshop?" her husband Barry suggested.<br />
"And have pillows that smell like a hamster cage?" Penny replied.<br />
<br />
She bought pine and cedar essential oils at a local shop. Not having a sewing machine or any material, she went out to the decorating store to get some little pillows that she could restuff with the scented filling. All she could find were giant bolsters and throw pillows for beds or sofas. Stuffed with needles, they would weigh about 100 lbs.<br />
<br />
Arriving back home empty handed and discouraged, she opened the essential oils for a quick whiff to revive her spirits. The pine scent smelled like the cleaner for the rest room at a roadside truck stop. The concentrated cedar scent smelled like what you would do in the rest room at a roadside truck stop. <br />
<br />
At this point Penny admitted defeat. There would be no pine needle cushions, as least not this year. But I would just like to say to my wonderful sister Penny that even when things don't quite work out, you still have awesome ideas, although I think that the pillows were balsam fir...<br />
<br />
Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-16530549001339238722013-11-16T08:09:00.000-05:002013-11-16T08:09:08.909-05:00Things I Have Learned from Yoga<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA1k4i62WPTs4M2qCE3LUV4X3D86NBzxljMCnDfu9KqFNGW4eV1E9BVH0KafDkhpKCEhZHK1RsNj-df0JC9NexoVO22sJ0ubdFqHdgJVAKXNuqyOnB0f6LXEUFtWKzrTIVcAcEAoMFmGkd/s1600/JeannineSauliner2Yoga+B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA1k4i62WPTs4M2qCE3LUV4X3D86NBzxljMCnDfu9KqFNGW4eV1E9BVH0KafDkhpKCEhZHK1RsNj-df0JC9NexoVO22sJ0ubdFqHdgJVAKXNuqyOnB0f6LXEUFtWKzrTIVcAcEAoMFmGkd/s400/JeannineSauliner2Yoga+B.jpg" /></a></div>The picture does look like me, but it is not me. It is Jeannine Saulnier, yoga instructor at Mount Saint Vincent University. <br />
<br />
Yoga turned everything I knew about fitness and training on its head. Yoga is about awareness of where you are now, how you feel, what you need, what your strengths and limitations are. In yoga, the idea is always to feel comfortable with yourself. Comfortable but also challenged because growth comes from challenge. In yoga challenge is not confrontational or competitive, it is about personal growth. Yoga is the most non-judgemental activity I have ever tried. Here is my idiosyncratic list of some things that I have learned from yoga (so far).<br />
<br />
<b>Setting an Intention for the Practice</b><br />
One of the teachers always began the class with the following questions: Ask yourself, how do I feel? What do I want? Set an intention for your practice. The intention may be physical, emotional or it might be related to a personal circumstance in your life. Sometimes my intention was simply to breathe healing into the soles of my feet when I was having arch pain. Sometimes it was to have a good stretch. Sometimes it was to focus on finding inner strength.<br />
<br />
<b>Learning To Trust my Instincts</b><br />
Yoga is about doing what feels right. Each stretch, each balancing pose, holding a position that requires strength, has limits. Those limits may very, depending on how we feel that day. Connecting with my physical instincts opened the door to allowing me to connect with my gut feelings about what felt right and what felt wrong in my life. It was the start of learning to trust those feelings and listening to the inner voice I had been ignoring. <br />
<br />
<b>Not Having a Voice</b><br />
Maybe it was because I was not paying enough attention to the inner voice that my outer voice was gone. In one yoga class, the group vocalization of Om was positively booming. I found it disconcerting that I could not even hear my voice. I could feel the vibration in my throat but I made no sound. I had no voice. I had stopped expressing, stopped sharing. I've hardly written at all this year. I needed to find my voice again.<br />
<br />
<b>Strength, Balance, Flexibility</b> <br />
In yoga I discovered that I had more strength than I knew and less balance than I thought. That was a revelation. I hadn't realized that I was so strong when in a stable position. My balance however, pretty much sucks. When I don't trust my grounding, I lose my confidence in my ability to hold it together. We learn to compensate for weakness. Instead of falling over in life, I'd twist and bend. My spine is exceptionally flexible and I have a wide range of motion and I was aware of that. <br />
<br />
<b>Forgiveness</b><br />
Yoga is infinitely forgiving. It doesn't matter whether or not you can get into all the poses, it is all about how you feel. Are you swaying in the tree pose (standing on one leg with the sole of the foot supported on the other, with your arms over your head)? It doesn't matter that you sway: Trees sway in the wind. Once the inner winds have calmed, you will find stillness.<br />
<br />
<b>Second Chances</b> <br />
Did you tip over while trying to hold warrior three? It doesn't matter. You get another chance, and another, and another. That is what the practice is about. Every practice is another chance. <br />
<br />
<b>Giving Up Competitiveness</b><br />
Yoga is about how you feel and what you need to explore. What someone else can do doesn't matter. When I was just starting, I had to watch other people all the time because I didn't know what the instructions meant and I was comparing myself to others, but once I began to learn the cues then I could focus more on what I was doing. <br />
<br />
<b>Feeling Strong and Grounded</b><br />
I feel infinitely strong and stable in poses like warrior one, warrior two. I love the feeling as my spine elongates in triangle. The stability and stretch of downward dog. These poses feel natural and they give me strength and confidence. I love the flow of movement and breathing in the sun salutation.<br />
<br />
<b>Savasana: Corpse pose</b><br />
The position for final relaxation is corpse pose. Lying on your back, legs apart, feet falling gently out to the sides, arms relaxed by the sides. It is a final moment to refocus on the breath and to let go of any residual tension that might remain. Corpse pose is the death, the letting go. After the stillness, slight movement is reintroduced back into the body, moving fingers, toes, wrists, ankles, then stretching out. Rolling over onto one's side in fetal position, we pause for another moment before sitting up and taking a new breath. Death into rebirth, the process that repeats over and over, every day of our lives as we put things to rest and then start again. <br />
<br />
<b>It's all about the breathing</b><br />
Yoga starts with breathing. Focusing on the breath moving in and out of the body. Not changing the breath or judging it, just observing it. Once we have acknowledged it, then we can work with it, deepening the breath, being aware of where we send the breath in the body (three-part breathing), playing with it as in alternate nostril breathing which is surprisingly calming, or layering sound into a pose with ujjayi, ocean sounding breath, another way of calming and focusing. Breathing with intention and consciously sending oxygen and energy increases concentration and awareness. <br />
<br />
<b>Things I learned from different teachers</b><br />
<br />
Nancy did a lot of balance work. Her class challenged me in a way that made me step out of my comfort zone, but it made me grow and showed me an area where I was much weaker than I had realized.<br />
<br />
Kathleen helped me the most in terms of making adjustments to achieve correct alignment in the poses. She also teaches yoga with children and has a beautiful, playful, childlike spirit.<br />
<br />
Suzanne radiated positive energy. There was one guy who came to her class who was always stressed out and complaining. I am sure that he came mainly to absorb some of her positive energy and tranquility. She had no trouble dealing him. Sharing her peace was her gift.<br />
<br />
Debra was the most spiritual in her practice. Her teachings about stillness and listening resonated with me and I keep referring back to them. <br />
<br />
<b>Namaste</b><br />
The namaste greeting/farewell is lovely.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNG3kdU7528Zh1D7Kt67hFY3TvTcrsgZGblCNko5mOjGID0LZyR-iukDaxTvLDs_a5lC5snCYl2wpIm8cVhs65gUM6g0Yusr7Fc2SpPCUFqXCfpC8LaabhifHhNGiqfrOgQ5ACFOHV7GpR/s1600/namaste1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNG3kdU7528Zh1D7Kt67hFY3TvTcrsgZGblCNko5mOjGID0LZyR-iukDaxTvLDs_a5lC5snCYl2wpIm8cVhs65gUM6g0Yusr7Fc2SpPCUFqXCfpC8LaabhifHhNGiqfrOgQ5ACFOHV7GpR/s400/namaste1.jpg" /></a></div>Namaste.Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-2032485798010664862013-08-28T20:33:00.000-04:002013-08-28T20:33:21.346-04:00Stratford Festival 2013: Four Plays in Three Days<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/stratfest/9467933436/" title="Othello | On the Stage | Stratford Festival by Stratfordfest, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7365/9467933436_f9c46539b7.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Othello | On the Stage | Stratford Festival"></a><br />
<br />
<b>Othello, 8:00 p.m. Thu 22 Aug 2013, Avon Theatre<br />
An Intimate Journey Into Despair</b><br />
<br />
This production of Othello was simple and intimate. Shakespeare's story of ambition, love, and jealousy comes to life in the capable hands of director Chris Abraham with Dion Johnstone as Othello, Bethany Jillard as Desdemona, and Graham Abbey as Iago who puts the action into motion by planting the seeds of jealousy in Othello's brain and arranging the fall of anyone who might stand in the way of his ambition. This production was not about raging jealousy but about intimate despair so profound that it has crowded out any possibility of seeing the truth. <br />
<br />
The staging is lovely in its utter simplicity. A rotating raked stage serves to make the transitions from one scene and setting to the next, along with images projected as shadows and windows that open in the wall. The translucent curtains that surround Desdemona's bed partly obstruct the view as Othello kills her, which both serves to buffer the graphic violence and reminds the audience that Othello is not seeing the whole picture. A shifting tilted platform, revolving feelings, shadows of doubt, and unexpected windows, and obstructions that allow one to see and yet not see clearly, echo the thematic elements within this play. Well done.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/stratfest/8892815576/" title="Tommy | On the Stage by Stratfordfest, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5323/8892815576_0b92588c13.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Tommy | On the Stage"></a><br />
<br />
<b>Tommy, 2:00 p.m. Fri 23 Aug 2013, Avon Theatre<br />
See Me, Feel Me</b><br />
<br />
I have to say it: Peter Townshend's lyrics suck. Tommy isn't much of a story and the lyrics are pretty much bereft of poetry, poignancy, wit, or social commentary. So what is left? Great staging. Director Des McAnuff (loved his Twelfth Night in 2011) and set designer John Arnone make brilliant use of projected scenery to replace what would once have been painted backdrops. It wasn't gimmicky, it was excellent use of imagery and symbolism to give a feel for the spirit of times in which the story unfolds. I particularly liked the use of the black and white camera images that are projected as Tommy is being interviewed on television. As to the plot line and universal message: Don't commit murder in front of your children; don't leave them with funny uncles; and don't bestow messianic adoration on random prodigies. <br />
I saw it but didn't feel it.<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/stratfest/8870682122/" title="Fiddler on the Roof | On the Stage by Stratfordfest, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm4.staticflickr.com/3771/8870682122_03456bde54.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Fiddler on the Roof | On the Stage"></a><br />
<br />
<b>Fiddler on the Roof, 2:00 p.m. Sat 24 Aug 2013, Festival Theatre</b><br />
<br />
This story of how tradition, modern values, political forces, culture, religion, familial love and loyalty clash and resolve remains as relevant and as universal now as it ever was. The music is engaging, the lyrics are both playful and poignant. Fiddler on the Roof is a masterpiece of musical theatre and this rollicking production has plenty of life and exuberance. <br />
<br />
On the downside, all of the performers in the mature adult roles appear to be too young. The fake beards aren't convincing enough. Scott Wentworth as Tevye is very good but lacks a certain gravitas. Kate Hennig as Golde doesn't bring quite enough weight to the role. Maybe she was saving her strength in this matinée performance, because she was excellent in the evening as the Nurse in Romeo and Juliet (see below). Hat's off to dancers Matt Alfano, Matthew Armet, Galen Johnson, and Julius Sermonia, who also appeared in Tommy. The versatile dance crew handled the different styles brilliantly. <br />
<br />
For all the joking and playfulness, the message is serious at heart. As the characters leave the town of Anatevka at the end of the play, there is a sense of hope that their optimism and fortitude will allow them to start their lives anew. There is also a sense of foreboding, borne out by history, that they will never return to their home town and their way of life is over. The story of Fiddler on the Roof is as classic as it is modern and this production had plenty of heart.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/stratfest/8859238080/" title="Romeo and Juliet | On the Stage by Stratfordfest, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7337/8859238080_b0ffceaffa.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="Romeo and Juliet | On the Stage"></a><br />
<br />
<b>Romeo and Juliet, 8:00 p.m. Sat 24 Aug 2013, Festival Theatre</b><br />
<br />
Director Tim Carroll and set designer Douglas Paraschuk have recreated a vision of how the Elizabethan theatre looked for this period production (reproduction) of Romeo and Juliet. The wooden stage with its balconies looks just like the model of The Globe Theatre that I remember seeing in high school. The musicians who provided the accompaniment to the performance were playing in the balcony as the audience began to take their seats. The performance began with an added prologue, written in verse à la Shakespeare, explaining that the house lights would be kept on to recreate the afternoon light in which the show would have been performed at an outdoor theatre in Shakespeare's time. Costuming was period-perfect. <br />
<br />
Nowadays the main obstacle in performing Shakespeare is how to make it accessible to the modern audience. This production was no exception. It is language-dense. There is a lot of talking to explain who everyone is and to set the stage for the conflict to come. When all of the characters are dressed in similar style clothing and colour palate, it doesn't help. Characters such as Mercutio and the Nurse engage in a lot wordplay and the characters to whom they are speaking laugh and respond with glee, but my modern ears missed the jokes. It took a good 15 minutes to warm up to the production in that sense. <br />
<br />
Once I had my ears suitably pointed back in time, I began to really enjoy the performances. Sara Topham as Juliet was beautifully smitten and not too sappy. Daniel Briere as Romeo conveyed the intensity of single-minded teenage pursuit. Kudos to Kate Hennig as Nurse, the single strongest character portrayal on the stage. I was delighted to see Antoine Yared in the cast, having been a fan of his work with Montreal's Repercussion Theatre. He plays Juliet's parent-sanctioned suitor Paris. It isn't much of a role, and he discharged it fairly woodenly, which was disappointing in consideration of the dynamic actor that I know him to be. <br />
Romeo and Juliet remains a beautiful piece of theatre but it is a challenge for the modern audience.<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/repercussiontheatre/9238982159/" title="10_BottomOberon&Titania_LR by Repercussion Theatre, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.staticflickr.com/5528/9238982159_24730e7846.jpg" width="500" height="333" alt="10_BottomOberon&Titania_LR"></a><br />
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<b>A Midsummer Night's Dream, Repercussion Theatre, Thu 25 July 2013, Pine Beach Park, Dorval</b><br />
<br />
For comparison's sake, A Midsummer Night's Dream, this year's Shakespeare-in-the-Park production by Montreal's Repercussion Theatre had all the elements of living, relevant theatre. What Repercussion Theatre lacks in budget and slickness it makes up for in energy and commitment to the roles. The outdoor setting, to which people bring picnics, lawn chairs, dogs and children, provides a sense of community. Repercussion Theatre's A Midsummer Night's Dream is a wild romp in the woods that lends itself to outdoor theatre in a way that Othello's private emotional turmoil and introspection might not. And try as Stratford may to recreate the experience of Elizabethan theatre with its production of Romeo and Juliet, it is hard to overcome the distance that is created by the awareness of the formal theatre setting.<br />
<br />
Repercussion Theatre stays true to the purpose of bringing the theatre to the people and performing Shakespeare in a way that makes it as relevant now as it was when it was written. This group continues to impress me.Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-7980352101562286212013-05-26T08:06:00.002-04:002013-05-26T20:47:35.513-04:00A Karmic Encounter and The Book of MormonThe Toronto run for The Book of Mormon at the Princess of Wales theatre sold out shortly after tickets went on sale. You can still buy tickets if you are willing to pay exorbitant prices to resellers (read scalpers). <br />
<br />
The Lottery<br />
The rest of us who aren't willing/able to shell out a couple of hundred bucks for tickets would be out of luck were it not for the Ticket Lottery. At 5:30 every afternoon, eager theatre-goers have half an hour to register for the 6:00 daily draw to win the right to buy a pair of tickets at the cost of $25 each. The conditions are: 1. One entry per person per day; 2. Before putting the ballot in the box, you have to register your name and ID at the desk. 3. The entrant and the other person who will attend the performance must be present at the draw. 4. The tickets must be paid in cash only. Lori suggested that we arrive at the theatre at 5:30 and enter the draw. She was particularly enthusiastic because I tend to win things. It is true. For reasons unknown, the universe tends to give me presents. I win random contests more often than would be expected, statistically speaking. <br />
<br />
Chronically Late<br />
I arrived at the theatre at 5:40 and registered for the draw. Lori was supposed to meet me there. Those of us who know and love Lori, are aware that she chronically tends to run a bit late for everything. This was aggravated by the fact that she was coming from her office in Etobicoke located in the far reaches of northwest Toronto, just before you hit Edmonton. As the 6:00 deadline loomed, I started looking around for someone else who appeared to be waiting for their equally tardy theatre partner to arrive. <br />
<br />
A Brief Marriage of Convenience<br />
John approached me. He wanted to get tickets to take his girlfriend, whose name coincidentally is Leslie, for her birthday. She wasn't with him, seeing as this was meant to be a surprise. We agreed that if his name were drawn, I would go to the box office with him as the partner and he would keep the two tickets. If my name were drawn, he would go with me and I would keep the two tickets. I forewarned John that I only had $47 in my wallet and I'd need to borrow money from him if I my name came up. <br />
<br />
The Universe Smiles <br />
I did win the drawing. John, not especially pleased because he realized that by accompanying me he would then forfeit his own chance to win, went into the box office to claim the tickets with me, and loaned me the necessary $3. Because these tickets are supposed to be non-transferable, they put amusement park-style wristbands on each of us which we would have to show, along with the tickets upon entry to the performance. <br />
<br />
Lori on the Scene<br />
Lori arrived just as we went outside again. I was all excited and jumpy and Lori couldn't quite figure out what was going on and why some slightly miffed guy wanted $3 from her. We went into Tim Horton's where we got coffee and borrowed a pair of scissors at the cash and carefully cut off John's wristband underneath where the closing tab overlapped. Lori paid John the $3 I owed, and we explained what had just transpired. John, who goes by the name John Karma, offered to buy the tickets from us but we weren't interested in selling. He was disappointed but very nice about. It turns out that he wanted the tickets not to take a current girlfriend, but a former one. A brief discussion about karma, kindness and caring ensued. It is good to continue to have a caring relationship with someone who is no longer your partner, but there is a point when you have to take steps to care for the health of your own heart when feelings are not reciprocated. <br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJT5atwStNfpZwXLESZ1Tr-37AkjoZpj2E8Z4SEnxnM9ztILnwPWwiOR8iW3dONy3LNzX2Edn7SUVXm-3zLkJrWdCJl-1RfkXMQsNU7d7BjvIkrfVRDb5BHvUhO4Z62TP51H4ruXsL9mLB/s1600/The-Book-of-Mormon-poster-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJT5atwStNfpZwXLESZ1Tr-37AkjoZpj2E8Z4SEnxnM9ztILnwPWwiOR8iW3dONy3LNzX2Edn7SUVXm-3zLkJrWdCJl-1RfkXMQsNU7d7BjvIkrfVRDb5BHvUhO4Z62TP51H4ruXsL9mLB/s320/The-Book-of-Mormon-poster-2.jpg" /></a><br />
<b>The Book of Mormon</b><br />
<br />
The play has been a smash hit. So does it live up to the hype?<br />
<br />
The Book of Mormon, by Matt Stone and Trey Parker the creators of South Park, in conjunction with Robert Lopez, is fabulously funny once you get over the initial "holy crap" shock at the blatant irreverence. <br />
<br />
In brief synopsis, the plot tells the story of Elder Price, a young Mormon with a very high opinion of himself, who is paired up with the much less couth Elder Cunningham to be dispatched to spread the word of the Book of Mormon in Uganda, which is nothing like the place Price hoped to be posted: Orlando. <br />
<br />
Price becomes discouraged as Cunningham struggles for a way to make the teachings of the Book of Mormon relevant to the Ugandan villagers, who are more worried about AIDS and the local warlord who wants to impose female circumcision than about the promises of some foreign religion. In order to get the story of the Book of Mormon across and sex it up a bit, Cunningham turns to the imagery familiar to all lone bookish nerds: Star Wars, Star Trek, the Lord of the Rings, and a bit of Pirates of the Caribbean thrown in for good measure. Exuberantly he incorporates the images of the sci-fi and fantasy world into his retelling of the Book of Mormon, and creates a story to which the people can relate, notwithstanding that it bears precious little resemblance to the original scripture. <br />
<br />
Alien people, in a foreign land, preaching a book that is equally far-out, this show had all the potential to slip into snide mocking and derision. But what could have been a brutal slam on an eccentric religion gets a humanizing treatment. The self-centered Price gets his comeuppance. Cunningham finds strength and creativity when he realizes that, beyond evangelizing, his job is to help the people deal with their problems. The Ugandan characters themselves take the missionaries' efforts in stride by illustrating the absurdity of the silly religious stories and nonetheless coming to the conclusion that religion can provide a different way of thinking about and addressing one's problems, so as long as it is taken metaphorically and not literally.<br />
<br />
If this sounds sappy, it isn't. The entire show is an unflinching romp with bouncy music and sharp, sassy, snappy lyrics, with the songs in the second act noticeably stronger than those in the first act.<br />
<br />
Interestingly, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has three full-page ads in the theatre program. I guess its feels that after seeing the show people might be inspired to want to know more about the church and possibly become followers. I had a look at the link and found that: <br />
<br />
<i>While the Bible details events in the eastern hemisphere, Book of Mormon events largely take place in the Americas. <br />
<br />
The Book of Mormon recounts that Jesus visited the Americas after He was resurrected. He taught people and established a church there. In the Bible it says, “In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established (see 2 Corinthians 13:1).” Just as the Bible and the Book of Mormon are two witnesses of Christ, these two civilizations together witness that Jesus is the Christ and Savior of all mankind.</i><br />
http://mormontopics.org/eng/bookofmormon?CID=50477&/<br />
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When Jesus was in America? Wow, that is pretty breathtaking stuff. All theatre is an exercise in suspended disbelief. Religion pretty much makes a similar demand, with the exception that religion expects you to keep believing after you have left the theatre. Just remember that it is a metaphor.<br />
<br />
<br />
Location, Location, Location<br />
While I was grateful to be able to see the show at all, our tickets, up in the nosebleed section, were not worth more than the $25 that they cost. One of the joys of theatre, particularly in a rambunctious show like this, is that the situations are larger than life, and they are played out in a way that is meant to be in your face. The experience is meant to be enveloping. Being seated far above and to the side of the stage shifts the perspective and it is very distancing. You don't experience theatre the same way when viewed from above rather than seen straight on. The staging was simple, bright, bold, and completely engaging. I wish that I could have seen this show in the way that it was meant to be seen.<br />
<br />
There was also some sound distortion in the upper reaches of the theatre. The show is strongly language dependent, with a huge amount of clever wordplay. A lot of the lines got lost, and I feel truly disappointed that I couldn't hear everything that was said/sung. Take it as a testament to the show's appeal that I want to get my hands on a copy of the soundtrack to be able to listen to it from end to end because it was a masterpiece of ingenuity. <br />
<br />
Lori's criterion: "Good theatre makes you laugh and makes you cry." This one will have you laughing but it doesn't really tug at your heartstrings. It is a devilishly clever romp and that is good enough for me. <br />
<br />
The Book of Mormon, see it if you can.Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-7126893765903713122013-02-27T18:45:00.000-05:002013-02-27T18:45:03.649-05:00Missed Connections<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig-mCN-0m5hKSA09itMiZJfcD8ROmGnDlze-BcfjlRKYUYmDPuCZmKKL9in3a315yrLkP-sXIAI0VHoFkmHhlzXAcP22_fSLGXWs1gNx-H6Q81DNOYuq1XRIv_P42mtxzF0G_nyZbL6oQL/s1600/0227MissedConnections.jpg" imageanchor="1" ><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig-mCN-0m5hKSA09itMiZJfcD8ROmGnDlze-BcfjlRKYUYmDPuCZmKKL9in3a315yrLkP-sXIAI0VHoFkmHhlzXAcP22_fSLGXWs1gNx-H6Q81DNOYuq1XRIv_P42mtxzF0G_nyZbL6oQL/s320/0227MissedConnections.jpg" /></a>A few weeks ago I was introduced to the charming work of illustrator Sophie Blackall who was inspired by the stories suggested in the Missed Connections section of Craigslist. http://www.messynessychic.com/2012/05/30/love-lost-and-found-on-craigslist/<br />
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If you haven't heard about Missed Connections, it is where people post a note in an effort to try to connect with someone, either because they were too shy or tongue-tied to speak to the person directly, or else their meeting was a random encounter and they don't know how to find the person again. In any case, there is something tremendously romantic about the notion that a chance encounter could possibly, irrevocably change the course of your life.<br />
<br />
It got me thinking about my missed connection moments. Here are some of them:<br />
<br />
<b>Caught in the Brioche</b><br />
Bakery Section, Carrefour Calle 80 Bogotá<br />
The fresh brioche was still warm. I lifted one up, shut my eyes and breathed deeply, inhaling the scent of butter and crystallized fruit. As I opened my eyes, a tall very French-looking man, gray around the temples, wearing a flour-dusted apron, came out of the back of the store. He stopped suddenly and stared at me as I stood there with my nose in the pastry. I blushed deeply, hurriedly put the brioche into my shopping cart and wheeled away, feeling his eyes on the back of my neck. I was too embarrassed and unprepared to say anything… but I wish that I had.<br />
<br />
<b>Skateboard on a Bike</b><br />
Maxi Pointe-Claire<br />
While picking up groceries at Maxi in Pointe-Claire I saw the skateboards. William wanted a skateboard for his birthday. I looked at the contents of my cart and did a quick calculation: I should be able to pack everything on my bike, the heavy things like milk, fruit and vegetables in the front basket, and the bulkier items like cereal, bread, pasta on the back carrier rack. Plus a skateboard. I paid for my purchases, wheeled out the grocery cart, and unlocked the bike in preparation for loading. Tetrising the bags onto the bike as it leaned against the bike rack, it was a precarious arrangement. As I was affixing the packages on the back with a bungie cord, the front wheel twisted and the bike toppled over. A gentleman, who had apparently been observing this magnificent feat of urban transport engineering, came over and helped me pick up the bike. Nothing was injured except my dignity. I could see that he was hesitating, not know whether to offer to help transport my cargo or what. But he had no idea how far I was going, and my bike probably wouldn't fit into his car, and I wouldn't get into a car with a strange man in a parking lot anyhow. Still, it was a moment. I thanked him. I got on my bike and road off over the St. John's Road overpass.<br />
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<b>Artlessness</b><br />
National University of Colombia, Bogotá<br />
The Saturday morning that I went to pick up my son from his art class at the National University, I spoke to the teacher about what sort of techniques the kids would be exploring. He was about 15 years younger than me, very nice looking, enthusiastic about the class and kids. As he spoke I found myself staring into his eyes. I felt his words brushing my eyelids, whispering down the sides of my face, pooling in the hollow at the base of my neck where the collarbones meet, spilling out and over, and running down between my breasts, coming to rest by the knot that had formed in my stomach. His last name was Tehran. I don't remember his first name. I can't remember a thing he said. During the subsequent weeks my ex-husband picked up William after art class. It would have been awkward for both of us to turn up.<br />
<br />
<b>Lost in Translation</b><br />
West Island YMCA, Pointe-Claire<br />
I had noticed that the enthusiastic, bald man hadn't been coming to step class. He is noticeable. Hardly any men do the step class and he is always very vocal. When the instructor asks if we are feeling good, he is the one who always answers with a rousing "Yeah!" So on the day I saw him, I said hi and that I had noticed that he hadn't been at the gym lately. He told me that he had been away on business in Tokyo, and that this was part of an ongoing project for business development and technology transfer, and that he had made quite few trips there, etc. He was quite chatty. "Lost in translation" was my first thought but I didn't manage to get the words out of my mouth. I should have said it, and then segued into the fact that translation is my field and that eventually technology will replace me, and that I have never been to Asia but have travelled all over South America and lived there for many years, but I couldn't find any words. I felt like an idiot and he must have thought that I was a pleasant-enough-but-slightly-dimwitted-jock. I do have words. Really, I do.<br />
<br />
What is nice about the memories, these moments, is that they are the first paragraphs about lives that could have been. Who knows what might have come of these encounters? Maybe nothing. We never got to be point of discovering inconvenient details like the fact that the object of attention might be married, or not interested, or unavailable for a multitude of reasons. Maybe the story might have flourished, in which case it wouldn't be "a moment"; it would more properly be called "my life." <br />
<br />
Any Moment/Moments in the Woods by Stephen Sondheim.<br />
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6CczCUPsEY0<br />
<br />
"Oh. if life were made of moments,<br />
Even now and then a bad one!<br />
But if life were only moments,<br />
Then you'd never know you had one."Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-53599017361659599762012-12-02T18:58:00.001-05:002012-12-02T18:58:14.825-05:00La Clemenza di Tito: It's all about the music<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCNVJ6OCUg0oPJAoYKkz1E4Enx7CWcP5F1sokeF_PEOqIOlsQhtwNUKNrPbKa72vs7nNKrW-ihNwGPhrl3-TvTjdkwQYZQzJVDhsKSlJdEQmQ7ZuLPqbiiSI-wQajjSGWMYCP__50YEjb/s1600/Clemanza.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="400" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCNVJ6OCUg0oPJAoYKkz1E4Enx7CWcP5F1sokeF_PEOqIOlsQhtwNUKNrPbKa72vs7nNKrW-ihNwGPhrl3-TvTjdkwQYZQzJVDhsKSlJdEQmQ7ZuLPqbiiSI-wQajjSGWMYCP__50YEjb/s400/Clemanza.jpg" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Giuseppe Filianoti as Tito and Elina Garanca as Sesto at the moment when the emperor grants pardon, in Mozart’s “La Clemenza di Tito.” (Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera)<br />
<br />
<b>MY REVIEW</b><br />
<br />
This experience of going to the Met HD opera series has been a real eye-opener. Some operas I have enjoyed, others I have endured. La Clemenza di Tito falls mainly into the former category, with the advantage that when I started to nod off, it really didn't matter that I may have missed some of the action, there wasn't much going on, and it was possible to figure out what had happened.<br />
<br />
The Music <br />
It was Mozart. It was lovely. The music rises, falls and sways. The harmonies melt into each other. You can pay attention to the story line, or not, or just listen to the music and the singing. This was so much nicer to listen to than the last opera (Thomas Adès) that was jarring, discordant and atonal. <br />
<br />
Characters and Portrayals<br />
Tito (Giuseppe Filianoti): What can I say, the guy is a wimp. He loves and forgives everyone. It is hard to take his passionate declarations seriously because he is so wishy washy. He's a nice guy and that doesn't make for great dramatic tension.<br />
<br />
Vitellia (Barbara Frittoli): The fickle lady. She wants power and claims that she was charmed by the Emperor Tito and now is jealous that he passed her over. Uses Sesto's attraction for her to attempt to get her revenge on Tito. More peevish than evil. Slight channelling of Magenta from Rocky Horror Picture Show, especially the hair. <br />
<br />
Sesto (Elina Garanca): What a beautiful performance. Garanca carries all the dramatic tension in this opera in trying to reconcile Sesto's love for Vitellia with his faithful service to Emperor Tito. Garanca's sweet singing and tormented acting are superb. She absolutely carried the story.<br />
<br />
Trouser Roles<br />
I was curious about the trouser roles, sung by Elina Garanca as Sesto and Kate Lindsey as Annio. These obviously have to be sung by women because no men have the register needed to hit those notes. The visual impression of women dressed as men wooing other women was that this was Mozart's version of soft porn. Lots of heaving bodices too. My mother pointed out that maybe back in the day these roles would have been sung by castrati, which are admittedly in short supply nowadays. <br />
<br />
Production Design, Sets, Costumes<br />
Can't say that I was impressed by the production design, sets, and costumes by Jean-Pierre Ponnelle. La Clemenza di Tito is known as an "opera seria," an opera dealing in serious, historical themes. It is set in Roman times. Nonetheless, the costumes came from the period contemporary with Mozart. I liked the black dress worn by the self-indulgent character Vitellia: the wide panniers of her underskirts emphasized her breadth and impact on the action, while revealing her lack of depth as she turns. It was the perfect graphic representation of the character's shallowness. In general, the textile flounces and flourishes represent the frivolity and superficiality of the characters. <br />
<br />
The chorus, with the women wearing some sort of pale wimples on their heads, was most unattractive. These are the same people that we have seen week after week. They are an ordinary looking mixed bunch. But these costumes made the women look tired and ancient, dressed in winding sheets as if ready for the tomb: a zombie chorus. The men had a different, equally unflattering look. <br />
<br />
Overall impression: Now I understand what people mean when they talk about the beauty of the music in opera. I could listen to this without having to watch it.<br />
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Barbara Frittoli as Vitellia<br />
(AP Photo/Metropolitan Opera, Ken Howard)<br />
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<b>JENNY WRITES:</b><br />
Well, opera seria was a throwback even in 1791. When you look at the "great composers" of opera seria, it is easy to see that most of those famous in the day are not exactly celebrated today. Not so Mozart. Like many opera seria, this one was designed for the courts, in fact it was commissioned. What a wonderful opportunity for potentates to see themselves as nearly as important as a Roman emperors, with self-satisfied nods. One can almost see their complacency across the centuries, but of course, their main contribution was to give opera a bad name as music for the elite. I also happened to read somewhere that this libretto in different editions and the story in general were set to music numerous times, the royals had a great appetite for seeing themselves depicted as great leaders.<br />
Mozart manages to rise above all of this, in fact it soars. For amateurs, it is hard to pin down why. Certainly he follows the form pretty closely; da capo aria, recitativo secco with continuo and repeat. In essence I understand this to mean that an aria is sound, a second melody is introduced and then the first melody is repeated and embellished (ABA for fiddle players). Mozart does have some ensembles, however, and they work beautifully very crisp and polished. <br />
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I found the recitativo interesting because the traditional harpsichord continuo is played on an organ and this for me introduced a historically discordant note, not necessarily in a bad sense. I think this staging played a little with time as well, messing with our heads in a gentle way. Comments on set and costumes will bear this out.<br />
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There are certainly some characteristic features of the day that we do not often see today. One is the character who "tells" us what the main characters are feeling or doing, in case we haven't gotten it. One example was Publico, who mid-way through Act II sings to us that Tito is conflicted. Another is the use of women in the trouser roles. Joan is right that castrati did play some of these roles in the day and they are in short supply today. Gender in opera and when women were allowed on stage is an interesting topic in its own right. At least these women (both of whom were superb) stay in role throughout the performance and do not have to be women playing men, who then have to disguise themselves as women. I kept having the feeling that these women, particularly Sesto (Elina Garanca) were playing with our perceptions keeping us just ever so mildly off-balance in the way that they are 95% in their male role and 5% testing the boundaries of what it means to be male.<br />
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The set also left me with questions. What does it mean to set a story in ancient Rome and have it falling apart as it would have been centuries later (crumbling columns, headless statues, etc.). As for the costumes I agree 100 percent with Leslie, except that I would add that having them contemporary late 1700s does a couple of neat things -- it messes with our heads again playing with the sense of time; it allows the court to "see themselves"; and you can imagine Mozart's production staged that way, cheap to costume. In particular I loved Vitellia's dress for all the reasons Leslie has identified. I also found the translucent screen very intriguing. When we first see the first crowd scene praising Tito, it looks like a painting by one of the old Masters, think Rembrandt's Night Watch, grand and dark. Then the translucent screen rises and we see them in action, at the end in the fade to black, the effect is once again reversed and a little unsettling. A technique adapted from the cinema perhaps? I don't know.<br />
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I would like to have heard more in the interviews about doing opera seria and how the various people who worked on the costumes, set, props, interpreted the opera and worked with the conductor to bring it to life. Usually the interviews are far more informative and this production would have benefited from expert guidance to viewing an older form. Or just sit back and listen and enjoy!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-8g9az5IaX9y4GyPRd862PKSgh2Vgt05-O7Q8AX9L393t7x0Sc8kqljcnPemw9vlMHxqSluaPvERygqb3OnT5S7YQss174iu19SEpGLrrGtO62qW0s9VChQa9LeSsDk5BB86LhoqS_NmG/s1600/Sesto.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="257" width="350" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-8g9az5IaX9y4GyPRd862PKSgh2Vgt05-O7Q8AX9L393t7x0Sc8kqljcnPemw9vlMHxqSluaPvERygqb3OnT5S7YQss174iu19SEpGLrrGtO62qW0s9VChQa9LeSsDk5BB86LhoqS_NmG/s400/Sesto.jpg" /></a></div>Elina Garanca as Sesto (photo uncredited on Internet but probably Ken Howard of the Met Opera)Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-7627423548826297492012-11-24T17:11:00.001-05:002012-11-26T11:06:45.317-05:00Visually Interesting, Musically Jarring Opera<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIIp94nc-QnU0WTGimmZ5M3gbRI3L8y9T3WT5huS_hV_24OlAqhym8MjvsrbC_uQsiFR2WaB-7em2vm4ZH8jnJ9-6ymY9uWby5Kd18vXIgup5tBNK8V5FNpnjlGOWMWzTM4qpkb-iB-o9/s1600/TempestAriel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="253" width="380" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSIIp94nc-QnU0WTGimmZ5M3gbRI3L8y9T3WT5huS_hV_24OlAqhym8MjvsrbC_uQsiFR2WaB-7em2vm4ZH8jnJ9-6ymY9uWby5Kd18vXIgup5tBNK8V5FNpnjlGOWMWzTM4qpkb-iB-o9/s400/TempestAriel.jpg" /></a></div>Jaime Verazin as Ariel in the acrobatic opening sequence. (Photo by Ken Howard/Met Opera)<br />
<br />
<b>The Tempest by Thomas Adès</b><br />
Metropolitan Opera HD Live Broadcast<br />
November 10, 2012<br />
<br />
<b>LESLIE'S REVIEW</b><br />
Apparently I don't have a taste for modern opera. I certainly didn't care for Thomas Adès's opera adaptation of Shakespeare's The Tempest. Chalk this up to my musical ignorance, but music that lacks melody sounds like a cacophony of random sound to me. <br />
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The first thing I noticed, after taking in the spare but evocative Cirque du Soleil-esque sets and costuming, was the fact that the sound was somewhat flattened. Looking carefully, I noticed that the performers were not miked as they had been in the previous operas I had seen. In this case, not having microphones was a blessing. <br />
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Wraith-like waif Audrey Luna in the role of Ariel sang in the register of nails on a chalkboard. When she sings "bow wow, bow wow" in reference to the watch dogs barking, she might as well have been howling to the moon.<br />
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For me, one of the highlights of the Met live broadcasts continues to be the intermission interviews. Librettist Meredith Oakes talked about the modifications that had to be made to Shakespeare's text. Character relations were clarified, the text needed to be compressed because singing takes a lot longer than speaking, and she commented on the difficulty of singing in Shakespeare's iambic pentameter. Again, I am showing my ignorance here but the meter of each line sung appeared to be completely random, with no discernible rhythm or melody. Even the interviewer asked the singers about the difficulty of learning how to perform Thomas Adès's work. The music was impenetrable, as far as I am concerned.<br />
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I loved the Cirque-inspired costuming. Prospero's (Simon Keenlyside) tattoos were the literal representation of wearing his heart on his sleeve: the story of his life and powers is painted on his skin. Caliban (Alan Oke), in a mohawk haircut and warrior-like face paint, looked more old and sad than threatening; the portrayal humanized the character. His aria telling the shipwreck survivors not to be afraid because the island is full of noises, and recounting how his dreams are so beautiful that when he awakes he cries "to dream again," is almost melodic and is a lovely moment.<br />
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Setting the play in Milan's La Scala Opera House works as a nod to the theme of Prospero as magician-worker or director who literally orchestrates the action: he causes the storm that brings the ship to his island; he has been controlling and commanding Ariel and Caliban. Even librettist Meredith Oakes works with this staging concept, incorporating the line "Words, words, words," which is not from The Tempest at all, but from Hamlet, the quintessential play-within-a-play play. <br />
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Prospero's final acceptance that his carefully laid plan has been undone by the fact that his daughter has fallen in love with Ferdinand, is handled with grace. Less graceful is the moment that the King of Naples, dejected in the belief that his son has drowned, discovers that Ferdinand is alive, and he is awkwardly and precariously hoisted up onto his men's shoulders to be carried from one side of the staging to the other. Meant to be "uplifting," instead it was ungainly.<br />
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The closing scene is of Caliban raising his hands to the side of his head in the gesture that he has used repeatedly as the story unfolds to denote a crown, meaning that he has been restored as the king of the island. But the gesture also suggests that he is clutching his head in pain or madness. It is a disturbing final note on which to end the performance. I sympathized.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp70xQ-KU_8INpKt6TZ3N04qSZDpLUgf3H1EVtt8qb5RcsCYYuZx5aukt27-up4ettPINCUgSQF2hhw9Y3mBkoQsBrPI4_GbFsoepWuca-3rsB6wEjQsg8uA_AjygDc3bsjAl23QuV7BJW/s1600/TempestProspero.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="216" width="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp70xQ-KU_8INpKt6TZ3N04qSZDpLUgf3H1EVtt8qb5RcsCYYuZx5aukt27-up4ettPINCUgSQF2hhw9Y3mBkoQsBrPI4_GbFsoepWuca-3rsB6wEjQsg8uA_AjygDc3bsjAl23QuV7BJW/s400/TempestProspero.jpg" /></a></div>Simon Keenlyside as Prospero (Photo by Ken Howard/Met Opera)<br />
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<b>JENNY'S REVIEW</b><br />
Well, I wasn't expecting much. I certainly wasn't expecting to like the music. It is the rare piece composed after 1900 that I take a fancy to. But in some ways this was worse and in some ways much, much better than I thought it would be. As I looked around the Met before it began, I was struck by the number of young faces; clearly this production speaks to a new audience and that's a good thing. It wasn't so obvious in my movie theatre, but it was competing with 007.<br />
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Adès without the right libretto would have been purely bad. I give full marks to the woman who not only brought a complex Shakespearean play into, well, the 20th century, made it rhyme in a pattern that could actually be sung (Meredith Oakes). I also loved the idea of setting it in La Scala in Milan to go with the theme of Milanese-Napolese conflict, and just the theatre of it.<br />
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The music: the first act was so dissonant and so jarring that I had a hard time remembering it was supposed to be conflictive (a major storm, conflict-ridden personal relations, aerial Ariel and earthy Caliban both have quarrels with Prospero). In the second act, I finally figured out some of his musical moves (like many, many key changes, when I thought it was minor key and unusual intervals that only truly expert singers could sing). And at the same time the music was occasionally melodic for a whole line at a time. In the interval, I had some of my findings confirmed by the principals as they were interviewed. By Act III, I could make sense of it, but my question was why? Why go to so much effort to make the music so challenging that few can sing it and very few actually like to listen to it?<br />
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I thought of Leslie's comments on previous operas that the plot line in opera is weak, the lyrics repetitive and not as rich as theatre. This work reveals the truth in that statement at the same time as it is certainly not true for The Tempest, which drives and drives and never repeats. I also liked the two drunks who provided (some, not enough) comic relief in a very Shakespearian, and operatic, tradition.<br />
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By Act III, as I was prepared for more postmodernism, the opera takes a sudden turn toward at least some traditional forms: the happy ending for the lovers, the denouement à la Mozart in which everyone is reunited and/or revealed, a return to the La Scala set, another appearance by the drunks, etc., I agree with Flor that the Act should have been tightened (and shortened?)<br />
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The cast: had a heavy load to carry and acquitted themselves but the truly remarkable performer had to be Audrey Luna, who "sang" notes that I was not previously aware were in a human's range. If I only knew who Gonzalo was, I would laud him too for the low range, but the Met literature does not give the entire cast and that I do not applaud. Simon Keenlyside was worth seeing and remarkable as always.<br />
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Would I recommend it? Only to the adventurous. However, I will point out that the crusty elderly couple who were heard to remark loudly after Act I that it was "even worse than I expected" were talking about how magical it was by the end.<br />
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<b>FLOR'S REVIEW</b><br />
Here's the New Yorker capsule review: "In her bland and badly rhymed libretto for Thomas Ades's opera 'The Tempest,' Meredith Oakes drains nearly all the poetry out of Shakespeare's play, a void this prince of British composers can only partly fill. The genius of the piece lies in the sustaining magic of the orchestral writing, guided on the podium by Ades himself, but the vocal parts (except for the stratospherically high soprano role of Ariel and the lyrically pliant music for Caliban) are startlingly underwritten, giving a strong Anglo-American cast - boasting such talents as Simon Keenlyside, Isabel Leonard, Alek Shrader, and Toby Spence - little to sink their teeth into. Robert Lepage's ingenious production is not devoid of Las Vegas kitsch, but it helps to humanize the cold and dazzling beauty of the score." <br />
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The music at the start was jarring, then it improved as the story developed. The lovers duet near the end was sweet. But the ending needed a bit of tightening up in term of structure. Some of the verses were inspired and others pedestrian. I found the acting pretty good, especially by the principals. And the staging was inventive.<br />
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Our audience here in Asheville was mostly gray-haired and this time they thankfully did not give the standing ovation (a gesture that has lost its meaning with overuse) that they have given other operas, blocking the curtain calls for those of us who remain seated. <br />
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<b>JENNY ADDS</b><br />
What can I say, I'm right, the New Yorker is wrong. The libretto that was needed was a work that could be sung. That's what opera is. Meredith delivered. On the other hand, I totally agree that the parts of everyone in the court lacked all magic.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfiSs_oBU8AiEEoXDWH4xD0SRhodGhgXmTeltsTUNrHGUrEqxX_coyfeosurB0PoXITCDqOmHEJdAdi_WQQ5WA1NGR9TGVV4FSAmE9syaYmIywh7T9evJzF3GMp4-T1zR0GrRZI1-2uz3v/s1600/TempestClowns.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="270" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfiSs_oBU8AiEEoXDWH4xD0SRhodGhgXmTeltsTUNrHGUrEqxX_coyfeosurB0PoXITCDqOmHEJdAdi_WQQ5WA1NGR9TGVV4FSAmE9syaYmIywh7T9evJzF3GMp4-T1zR0GrRZI1-2uz3v/s400/TempestClowns.jpg" /></a></div>Lestyn Davies as Trinculo, Kevin Burdette as Stefano, and Oke as Caliban. (Photo by Ken Howard/Met Opera)<br />
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Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-12884806959794237042012-11-05T18:01:00.001-05:002012-11-05T18:01:55.261-05:00Dialogue on OperaI've never considered myself an opera fan. Some of my book club friends are diehard opera fanatics. They "live, breathe, and eat" the emotion. Me, not so much. <br />
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In general I found opera far too screechy. Seeing a big bunch of people shuffling around from one side of the stage to another to stand and sing in static groups did not excite me. At the urging of some of these friends, I'd been to some light opera over the years: Gilbert and Sullivan, zarzuela, and a couple of Puccini's works over the years. I liked the G&S lyrics. Being able to understand the lyrics definitely helps. I have always liked Bizet's Carmen.<br />
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A year ago, at the recommendation of my opera-loving friends, I saw the Metropolitan Opera's live broadcast production of Comte Ory, and loved it.<br />
http://noessinomivida.blogspot.ca/2011/04/le-comte-ory-help-wolf-brother.html<br />
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My mother has always been an opera fan. This year at her suggestion, we signed up to attend the first six performances in the Metropolitan Opera's live broadcast series. <br />
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My friend Jenny, in London, Ontario, is also going to the live broadcast series. The first opera we saw, each in our respective cities, was L'Elisir d'Amore. Here is our reaction to the performance in what is becoming an ongoing dialogue on opera.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1tUCBxG0gwMpvxyT7ZCvhWmbBOApkckunajbPCjH1F0fCI3lZyinUwOMefVFAZKOAuN0enfckvZVD9Ey6hLTaWZI24FlGFNkBq3EF-4sPQpoRxgQugHpRbDcNbe3VYaovmRy-sq-fUqLr/s1600/Elisir.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="80" width="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1tUCBxG0gwMpvxyT7ZCvhWmbBOApkckunajbPCjH1F0fCI3lZyinUwOMefVFAZKOAuN0enfckvZVD9Ey6hLTaWZI24FlGFNkBq3EF-4sPQpoRxgQugHpRbDcNbe3VYaovmRy-sq-fUqLr/s400/Elisir.jpg" /></a></div><div>L'Elisir d'Amore by Gaetano Donizetti, 13 October 2012<br />
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Jenny wrote on 14 October<br />
What did you think of the first opera of the season? I attended alone so have not shared commentaries yet. In general I thought the staging and use of painted 2-dimensional scenery was effective for a comedy, loved the translucent curtain, and beautiful costumes. The cast was very good though Belcore (Mariusz Kwiecien) was not as convincing, perhaps due to the ambiguity of the character himself. I thought Ambrogio Maestri stole the show as Doctor Dulcamara.<br />
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The conception of the production as less farce and more comedy arriving from the characters worked I thought, though I admit that I have never seen a traditional staging of this opera. What was less clear for me was Adina's position as a farm owner and person of some power. Maybe I missed a key line, but I would also have missed the use of the riding hat if it had not been referred to by the costume designer. Did you sit for the backstage and interview segments?<br />
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I admit a preference for melodic Italian opera and this is one of the most melodic. "Una furtiva lagrima" by Matthew Polenzani as Nemorino was very very good although he lacks Pavoratti's silken tones, I could not believe the way he modulated his voice through the long lines he had to sign. Wow.<br />
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My response:<br />
My first reaction to these live broadcasts is that seeing an opera is a completely different experience from hearing it. Seeing the action unfold, and having the subtitles opens up a whole new world in terms of understanding what is going on. I need these extra inputs, I guess because I am not sensitive enough for "the music itself to speak to me." <br />
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Another thing I really like about the Met broadcast is the "half-time show," the interviews with the director, set designer, costumer designer, props manager, and performers, etc. These shed new light and insight on what we are watching. I particularly appreciated hearing the costume designer mention that Adina was wearing a riding habit, which underlines her wealthy status and her role as a woman in charge. Until hearing that I could not, for the life of me, figure out why she appeared to be wearing a top hat. <br />
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L'Elisir d'Amore is a completely flimsy farce. This is not to say I did not like it. I enjoyed it thoroughly. It had a lot of playful counterpoint and was great fun. We left the theatre feeling elevated, although certainly not enlightened.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPxzd73a2cQ8yKNknS3nf3eaHry5xS6SyCv_Qs9S7o5xplpiVzdlmtiyeb0EVklh4H6ZqcQoCqiKhDvi5EQ-7jw1nH0JKNGNnW4pQt_IXgx4OjFIZv2V7nY50gidwa5f6TmUgCjGDSzxr3/s1600/otello.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="200" width="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPxzd73a2cQ8yKNknS3nf3eaHry5xS6SyCv_Qs9S7o5xplpiVzdlmtiyeb0EVklh4H6ZqcQoCqiKhDvi5EQ-7jw1nH0JKNGNnW4pQt_IXgx4OjFIZv2V7nY50gidwa5f6TmUgCjGDSzxr3/s400/otello.jpg" /></a></div>Otello by Giusppe Verdi, 27 October 2012<br />
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Jenny wrote on 29 October<br />
So what did you think of Otello (other than the fact that Johan Botha is butt-ugly and Michael Fabian is eye candy...)?<br />
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Seriously I thought it was well cast and Iago was the embodiment of evil. So OK, marks for acting. I did not know the opera and love Verdi's music so, I confess, I was waiting for a recognisable aria, and it never came, so that was disappointing -- although entirely my fault for not reviewing what I would be hearing.<br />
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My biggest comment is about the production itself. I thought it seemed very dated, almost from the "just stand and sing" days. I say that because the crowd scenes were so crowded they could hardly do anything else and there were a number of them. They definitely did not need that many singers to produce the required sound, more about having the big look... Later, during the interval someone casually mentioned something that led me to believe that this has been revived for some 20 years -- maybe it was the comment that Renee Fleming sang her first Desdemona there in 1994. And maybe I misunderstood. But the light bulb went on and I now believe that it is safe to say that this one could benefit from a reconceptualization and some modern staging before the scenery falls apart.<br />
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My response<br />
On Friday night we searched for a synopsis on the Internet to review prior to seeing the performance. I am glad that we did because it fleshed out the context and relations that would not necessarily be apparent. <br />
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It is interesting that you mentioned the crowd scenes. Yes, they were crowded and seemed to have unnecessary children. I figured that was because Cypress is a small island and doesn't have enough room for everyone.<br />
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I liked the sets: dark, brooding and heavy. They had some unusual moving pieces, platforms raising people to step into the next scene. That struck me as a bit odd. Technology should contribute to smooth transitions, not draw attention to itself.<br />
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We agree that Botha is one unattractive fellow. I don't know what Desdemona sees in him: power, wealth, older man, governor of Cypress, I guess. Nicolas Sarkozy-Carla Bruni syndrome. When he was lying on the ground "beached whale" was my mother's comment. My own reaction was one of slight confusion: When you are a perfect sphere, which way is up?<br />
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I thought Iago's performance was great. He was subtle, very subtle. I liked Emilia too. <br />
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Apparently this is one of Renee Fleming's signature roles. I loved her performance. She has a heavy burden of acting to carry this role and make it credible, and I think she pulled it off: Loving without being completely sappy; sincerely pleading Cassio's case, genuinely shocked at Otello's brusque treatment. I do have to mention that she is looking a bit long in the tooth, more like the ingénue's mother than the ingénue.<br />
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Michael Fabian sounded like a hockey player in his half-time interview, but with all of his teeth. Yes, he was yummy!<br />
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I was nervous coming into this production. Whereas L'Elisir de Amor was fun and lighthearted; I was afraid that Otello as a drama might be too static and introspective. In fact it had a lot of action to carry the plot. Every time the action slowed down, Iago was right there to mix things up again. He really kept things moving along. <br />
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In terms of opera appreciation, I find that I miss the revelation, introspection and beautiful that theatre conveys through language. Seeing the skeletal lyrics as subtitles really hammers home the point that the music is supposed to convey the depth of the emotions, while exploring human sincerity, frailty, and manipulation. In fact music should be a superior medium, able to transcend linguistic barriers. As a person with a trained musical ear, I am sure that you are able to appreciate the emotional content of the music to a degree that I do not. All this to say: I am enjoying the operas but I find the simplistic words very flimsy structures on which to hang great events. I am having Very Serious Doubts about opera as High Art.<br />
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In summary: I have enjoyed both of the operas that we have seen greatly, but I still would not listen to opera music without the visuals. Give me a good piece of theatre any day.<br />
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Jenny wrote on 30 Oct<br />
In fact we are probably in more agreement than disagreement on opera and theatre. Opera IS theatre, I would rarely listen to anything except a favourite aria, and of course the overtures and intermezzos (no words), and specifically, I have never understand the fascination for the radio broadcast from the Met. Having said that, people who have fluency in Italian (French, German) might experience it differently.<br />
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As I understand it, the paucity of words is partially our paucity of comprehension of the language and partially the history and structure of the art form. The key lies in the concept of Opera as High Art. It might be High Art for North Americans but for Europeans, and historically speaking, not so much. The reason for the skeletal subtitles is that the singers repeat entire lines, sometimes multiple times. That way everyone in the theatre can grasp it, even if they are in the cheap standing room areas at the back and top of the house and even if the singers are not projecting really well (and un-miked). The subtitles don't repeat (and of course did not exist until recently). Operas appealed to everyone back in the day; I was surprised when I discovered how many incorporated jokes and farce since I thought of it as Very Serious Stuff. With all that, you are right that repetitive words, even if well chosen, are not the height of beauty and subtlety in language and must be welded to a musical structure and visuals to be maximally effective. Ah, but when it works it is sublime.<br />
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I would love to take a real opera appreciation course. Occasionally the opera society here has a lecture but it is almost invariably on a single opera and not on the structure or development of the art form itself.<br />
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I hope that you have tickets for The Tempest. That should be very telling since it is - in English - modern music (not my favourite usually) - sets and blocking with touches of Cirque du Soleil. Is the art form High? Is it comprehensible and compelling for contemporary audiences? Or, is it dead?<br />
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My response: Flimsy repetitive lyrics<br />
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The opening scene for Otello has the soldiers and the townspeople of Cypress waiting for Otello's ship to arrive, as a storm rages at sea. The gist of the lyrics is:<br />
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O the sea is strong and the ship is in danger, the ship is in danger! <br />
O the sea is strong and the ship is in danger, the ship is in danger!<br />
Tra la la! Tra la la! Tra la la la la!<br />
Repeat as needed.<br />
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After the chorus has sung it twice, the subtitles don't need to keep appearing. We get it. It is not much in terms of thematic content for five minutes of performance. The chorus did provide a necessary counterpoint to the evil Iago, leaning up against a post and interjecting: "I hope the ship sinks." Still, it seems like an awful lot of sturm und drang to convey so little content.<br />
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The Tempest is one of my favourite Shakespeare plays. I am looking forward to seeing Thomas Ades's operatic adaptation.<br />
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More reactions on opera from Jenny and Leslie to be posted…<br />
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Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-32835567187418190132012-05-31T17:10:00.000-04:002012-05-31T17:17:41.637-04:00Farewell to the FITBBogota's venerable theatre institution is in decline. Here is a review of what I saw at this year's festival, followed by some reflections on why the FITB might not make it into the future. <br />
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The 2012 Ibero-American Theatre Festival (FITB) in Bogota featured a mixed bunch of productions, ranging from the sublime to the banal. Here are brief reviews of the nine performances that I saw, organized by category: Outstanding, Better than expected, Good entertainment, Just okay, and I want my money back.<br />
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<b>OUTSTANDING<br />
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Translunar Paradise</b><br />
Ad Infinitum Theatre, U.K.<br />
A small and unpretentious production whose strength was the ability to portray intense and honest emotion through gesture. An old man who has just lost his wife takes items out of a suitcase and relives the moments that these items represent: their meeting and courtship, going to war, her getting a job, a miscarriage, her final illness. The two actors use hand-held masks to cover their faces as the older self, and remove the masks as the younger self. A third neutral person on the stage provides music, sound effects, and lends a hand as different props need to be moved or a mask needs to be held in place. The third body might sound obtrusive but she wasn't and the action and interaction between the characters flowed flawlessly. This was a beautiful production made all the more powerful for its simplicity.<br />
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<b>Gemelos</b><br />
Teatro Cinema, Chile<br />
Puppet theatre set and staging is used to tell the story of two boys who are sent away to live with their less-than-adoring grandmother during the Second World War. As the two learn to cope with the harshness of life, the cruelty of war, and the contradictions of human nature, they evolve into a horrifying combination of innocence and depravity, caring and callousness. The constant violence is suggested and stylized rather than graphic. The overall impression is of a fairy tale gone bad. A deeply disturbing and beautifully creative production. <br />
http://noessinomivida.blogspot.com/2012/04/fitb-xiii-gemelos.html<br />
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<b>BETTER THAN EXPECTED<br />
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Donka, A Letter to Chekhov</b><br />
Finzi Pasca Compagnia, Switzerland<br />
This is new generation circus, in which performance is used to invent images and tell a story, rather than just being a series of different tricks to entertain. The pretext for the storyline is the life of Anton Chekhov. Images evoke different aspects of Chekhov's life: skating, fishing, hospital beds. These, in turn, become the setting for lyrical circus: aerial acts, juggling, German wheel, shadow play. The audience can see how some of the illusions are created and projected, but knowing that gravity is not really being defied does not distract from the ingenuity; the image is still delightful. This is the art of theatre: knowing that what you are seeing is not real, and yet being able to embrace it in its context. To quote reviewer Alison Croggan: "Maybe the key phrase is a quote from The Seagull: 'Life should be represented, not as it is, not as it should be, but as it appears in a dream.'" For more of Croggan's excellent review see:<br />
http://theatrenotes.blogspot.com/2011/02/perth-festival-donka-letter-to-chekhov.html<br />
On a negative note, the sound at the Jorge Eliecer Gaitán Theatre was extremely distorted, at least at the balcony level. <br />
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<b>GOOD ENTERTAINMENT <br />
<br />
Cocorico</b><br />
Productions Illimitées, France<br />
The preview video for this quirky, quacky show made me laugh out loud, and so did the performances by Patrice Thibaud and Philippe Leygnac. The two of them clown about in scenes that range from a piano recital, the tour de France, a cowboy shootout, a silly chase, and being swallowed by a lion and having to escape through its bowels. Don't look for messages about the meaning of life, this is just great fun. <br />
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xa04vy_cocorico-patrice-thibaud-english_fun<br />
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<b>Tom Tom Crew<br />
</b>Strut & Fret Production House, Australia<br />
The break dancing and tumbling were good. DJ Luke Dubbs puts some cool sounds together. Tom Thum's vocal dexterity as a beat box performer was truly impressive (how does he make those sounds?). Ben Walsh's percussion, à la Stomp Out Loud was high energy. All in all, this was a fun show, but was it particularly memorable? Maybe not. This is an example of how the theatre festival has shifted away from theatre and toward entertainment. The performers make an effort to keep the energy level high, but it felt a bit forced. Tom Tom Crew was fun, family fare, and there is a place for that, but it did not leave the impression of being fresh and new.<br />
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<b>JUST OKAY<br />
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The Blind (Los Ciegos)<br />
</b>Teatr KTO, Poland<br />
Based on the book Essay on Blindness by Portuguese author José Saramago, this street theatre adaptation by Polish director Jerzy Zon could have used a bit more continuity between scenes. Nonetheless, I would consider that is was very good quality street theatre. The scale is right, the images have impact, the soundscape envelops the audience. As part of the series of conferences with directors, Jerzy Zon gave a very interesting talk, discussing his work as a director, this production in particular, and its relevance to contemporary society. He referred to how, because of censorship, Polish theatre came to depend on metaphor and subtlety. He is also a fan of the succinct. "If you can't say it in one hour, you can't say it in three hours," he maintains. Although this production is very much abbreviated, Zon wanted to stay true to Saramago's intention. He resolves this dilemma by eliminating language and developing the images, while using music to provide ambiance and commentary. <br />
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The book and the play examine the fragility of the constructs of society; how we and the people who surround us could slip into barbarity, with only small vestiges of humanism. This is a particularly suitable theme for street theatre because the play unfolds around you in a way that makes you part of the performance as well as the audience. Therefore the decision to present this show in a stage venue, with pricey tickets, was somewhat inappropriate. This could have been a festival highlight if it had been presented free of charge to a wider public. At one time the festival embraced this concept as part of its mission: to bring good quality theatre to the people, particularly the people who can't afford to pay. The FITB missed the mark by charging for this show. Instead of giving something back to the people, it took a socially significant production with artistic merit, and excluded the audience for which it was intended.<br />
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<b>Cayetana, su pasión<br />
</b>On the subject of exclusivity, this show took the cake. This was the festival's keynote inaugural performance. Friday March 23 at the Teatro Julio Mario Santodomingo was the biggest gathering of Bogota's well-heeled "gente de bien" that I have ever seen. The show itself reviews how flamenco has evolved over time. It was technically proficient, with a lot of flamboyant gesturing, posturing, stomping, and whipping about of skirts. The flamenco musicians were suitably passionate with their lamenting wails and intricate clapping. The audience enjoyed the show but flamenco really isn't my genre. <br />
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<b>I WANT MY MONEY BACK<br />
<br />
A Play About Mirjana and People Around Her</b><br />
Jugoslovensko Dramsko Pozoriste, Serbia<br />
Performed by renowned actor Mirjana Karanovic, famous for her many roles in the films of director Emir Kusturica, to whom she was married, Karanovic is apparently a big favourite with people who are familiar with her trajectory as an actor. Not knowing her or her films, I was not able to bring any previous appreciation to the performance, and what I saw did not impress me much. This show was banal and uninteresting, and lacked the sense of personal commitment and intimacy that are usually characteristic of plays in which a single performer is central. <br />
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<b>Julius Caesar<br />
</b>Centre Dramatique National Orléans/Loiret/Centre, France<br />
Director Arthur Nauzyciel claims to place utmost importance on Shakespeare's text but he doesn't understand the language and runs roughshod over it. His production is a send-up whose final message is that Shakespeare and his language are no longer relevant to the modern audience. This production was a tedious mockery. If you don't think that Shakespeare is relevant, don't perform it. The cheap, amateur production of Julius Caesar that I saw as Shakespeare-in-the-Park in Ottawa last summer had much more vitality than this expensive production.<br />
http://noessinomivida.blogspot.com/2012/04/shakespeares-julius-caesar-at-bogota.html<br />
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***<br />
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<b>Farewell to the FITB</b><br />
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Bogota's Ibero-American Theatre Festival, the brainchild of Argentine actor and theatre impresario Fanny Mikey, hosted every two years, began in 1988. I arrived in Colombia in 1989, so I have been privileged to have attended every festival except for the first one. I've seen a lot of very good productions over the years, a fair share of mediocre ones, and some that were truly outstanding. Mikey opened Colombia to the world of international theatre. She convinced renowned international productions to come to Colombia, and she raised the level of expectation and sophistication of Colombian theatre-goers. <br />
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It saddens me to observe that the festival is in decline, and to predict that it will probably have trouble surviving. There are several reasons for this:<br />
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It is over-priced: FITB ticket prices are way above what most Colombians can afford to pay. The festival has always been accused of being elitist, a charge that is largely true. Festival prices have always been expensive but this year they were positively prohibitive. Lukewarm sales meant that some productions had to offer cut-rate tickets at the last minute. This loss-cutting strategy can backfire: People will be reluctant to pay full price in advance if they start to expect that they can pick up cheaper last minute tickets. The ticket prices should be less expensive, period.<br />
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Commercial saleability is being prioritized over artistic merit. Since Fanny Mikey's death in 2008, there has been a shift toward bringing in productions that fall under the category of performance and entertainment (such as circus), rather than theatre. Mikey's vision of the festival was well rounded: she made sure that the offerings included creative and avant-garde pieces as well as more accessible offerings, children's theatre, and good quality street theatre.<br />
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Street theatre is being neglected. Part of the FITB's success was due to the quality of the street theatre. The last couple of festivals were disappointing. This year I didn't bother going to any street theatre at all. The fact that the festival provided next to no information about the street theatre productions, and only a vague schedule about when they would be taking place, did not exactly drum up much excitement either. Part of the justification for the festival, in its requests for public funding, was that it emphasized the aspect of making innovative theatre available to all. If the festival fails to make a social contribution, it will be less likely to continue to receive public funding and/or corporate sponsorship. <br />
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The festival's organization was deficient. Shows announced during early ticket sales were cancelled. Information about the productions was not made available ahead of time. Venues were switched and tickets had to be changed. The festival staff was largely ignorant about the shows. None of this bodes well for the festival's continuity. <br />
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So farewell to the FITB. We had a good run. A few years ago if I had been asked whether I would make a point of coming back to Bogota for the festival, my answer would have been yes, but now I don't think that it would be worth it. Fanny Mikey, may you rest in peace. I am truly sorry that your legacy will likely not live on.Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6352873727587416954.post-4658188749240084192012-04-08T20:39:00.003-04:002012-04-08T20:44:14.710-04:00Shakespeare's Julius Caesar at the Bogota FITB<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiejaz9k7AX-bsYgxqcIl2CRPbPilLbAH6uK1KZcUWip05DUFMS8I3-OCoVo3gwATADd-0qq3midPVogLDxa8g4MW4PdJXPJqHGPAlFWdx9cGTHteYS2cdWFOWwI70nJKmuYuHWJpIFTvBD/s1600/JC1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiejaz9k7AX-bsYgxqcIl2CRPbPilLbAH6uK1KZcUWip05DUFMS8I3-OCoVo3gwATADd-0qq3midPVogLDxa8g4MW4PdJXPJqHGPAlFWdx9cGTHteYS2cdWFOWwI70nJKmuYuHWJpIFTvBD/s400/JC1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729195006591808386" /></a><br />Julius Caesar<br />Centre Dramatique National Orléans/Loiret/Centre<br />American Repertory Theater<br />Teatro William Shakespeare, Bogota<br />Friday, 6 April 2012<br /><br />Conference with director Arthur Nauzyciel<br />Jorge Tadeo Lozano University<br />Saturday, 7 April 2012<br /><br /><strong>Getting Lost in the Search for Meaning</strong><br /><br />French director Arthur Nauzyciel is adamant on the subject of the importance of turning to the original text for meaning and he laud's Shakespeare's Julius Caesar for its richness. In his reverence for the text, however, Nauzyciel appears to have forgotten that the play was meant to be spoken, and the decision to deliver the lines as they are written, in verse format, results in unnatural breaks and denaturalized language, making it difficult to understand. <br /><br />Nauzyciel defends this choice, noting that Shakespeare's language is not naturalistic because "nobody talks that way, either then or now." Much of Shakespeare's language is inaccessible to the modern audience, but instead of performing for understanding, Nauzyciel has opted to isolate, distort, and even eliminate the language. The effect is that rather than privileging the text, he strips it of meaning. <br /><br />I suppose that the effect might be less jarring for a French speaker than for a native English speaker. Nauzyciel acknowledges that when his version of Julius Caesar is performed in the United States, people complain about the way the dialogue is delivered, but he doesn't get these complaints elsewhere. This performance was in Bogota, and the subtitles for the Spanish-speaking audience, projected at the top of the stage, were always slightly delayed so that they didn't coincide with what was happening below. Technical difficulty or deliberate choice? <br /><br />The performance is highly stylized: The actors can't walk and talk at the same time. Speeches are delivered in rigid, stylized tableaux. In the opening scene between Flavius and Murellus, the actors are stilted in their speech. Flavius appeared to forget his lines before recovering and barrelling through the text at a frenetic pace, mumbled and often inaudible. This production was mounted in 2008, and the actors were reunited for this performance. So if it appeared that Flavius forgot his lines, he probably did. <br /><br />Taking the comparison of undermining the spoken word further, Brutus's servant Lucius is portrayed as a mute. He has no spoken words at all; his dialogue is delivered in sign language. He is also a spectator, seated to the side of the stage and observing the action through most of the play. This convention works within the context of the play. Like the audience, Lucius is an observer, a bystander on the sidelines of history, and the performance is subtle and poignant. <br /><br />Sara Kathryn Bakker as Portia and Calpurnia is clear and understandable. Mark Antony's "Friends, Romans, countrymen speech" is delivered with crystal clarity (whereas in subsequent appearances his English was pretty hard to understand). Nauzyciel presumes that most of the audience will be familiar with this speech and will understand it, so he throws the public that bone. <br /><br />While the dialogue is rushed, movement is slowed down and drawn out. The performers move as if through a dreamscape. This is an interesting choice. Much of the play takes place at night. The conspirators meet at night. Portia is awakened and confronts Brutus because he is hiding something from her. Calpurnia has a premonitory dream of Caesar's death. The dream, its telling, and making something real by telling it, is one of the themes that Nauzyciel emphasizes. He considers Julius Caesar as a precursor to the world of Hamlet, whose universe is populated with ghosts, intrigue, and murder. He also emphasizes that he wanted to make sure that no death is banal. Each character's demise is staged deliberately, and drawn out in detail, given its moment. <br /><br />Language, Nauzyciel insists, rather than action, is the vehicle for furthering the plot. Julius Caesar is murdered because Brutus is told that he should be murdered. The doubts that Brutus expresses lead him and his followers to suicide. The recounted premonition comes true. The word becomes reality. Julius Caesar was the first play that Shakespeare presented at The Globe Theatre. Nauzyciel considers this play as a sort of "manifesto on the theatre" as a place in which the word can change the course of the world. <br /><br />The 1960s staging and costuming neither adds to nor detracts from the play. The themes of political power and corruption are universal, and are as relevant and contemporary now as they were in Roman times or in Shakespeare's time. This is a play that can work in any historical context. Nauzyciel's version cuts some scenes from the original, but he does not adapt the text. Opting not to make the text consistent with the staging, makes the period staging somewhat gratuitous. What does work is the suggestion of anonymity and timelessness achieved by having all the actors wearing the same sort of suits. Nauzyciel explains that he never works on developing character but rather on the text and with the actor. Following this logic, a number of the actors have performed different roles at different times. They become interchangeable.<br /><br />In terms of interchangeability, Shakespeare often played with concept of mirroring. Cassius tells Brutus: "And since you know you cannot see yourself / So well as by reflection, I, your glass, / Will modestly discover to yourself / That of yourself which you yet know not of." The structure for the entire second act was inspired by Brutus's line: "I shall find time, Cassius, I shall find time." Nauzyciel explains that he took inspiration from the mirrored symmetry in the way that the phrase reflects itself perfectly. <br /><br />Music plays a significant role in this production. Nauzyciel was clear from the start that he wanted to include a jazz trio as part of the staging. He explains that he uses the music to keep the production contemporary, and to suspend time between different actions. He emphasizes that the music is not meant to be a chorus, or to comment on the action onstage, although the use of the song "Suicide is painless" to introduce the scene in which Brutus and his followers will kill themselves is a pretty obvious chorus commentary. Nauzyciel says that wants the music to serve as a gentle counterpoint to the violence. As well, because the text is so dense, Nauzyciel explains that he wants the music to give the audience a break from the intense listening. This concern is pretty unnecessary, given that as it was performed, the dialogue melded into an unintelligible soundscape. <br /><br />Nauzyciel uses an empty theatre as a backdrop. Often the actors deliver their lines to the "empty house" at the back of the stage, with their backs to the audience. The overall impression, underlined by the way that the lines are being delivered, it that this production isn't for the benefit of the flesh and blood audience. <br /><br />The play ends with the actors dancing and singing Nelly Furtado's "You Don't Mean Nothing At All To Me," a contemporary version of the dance often used to end a play during Elizabethan times. The song title is awfully ironic, given the performance that has just unfolded.<br /><br />I appreciate the director's emphasis on prioritizing the original text, but he has become so focussed on the words that he has lost the meaning. Arthur Nauzyciel needs to look at his 2008 production with fresh eyes and fresh ears because it has gone stale and fails to achieve the most basic of its intentions, which is to convey the meaning of the story through language. <br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijyXauM5OQ8HSjnoRMQBLDvyS4h7sZhsh4SoejN1N2hbMXmD9UKkvAWpBOtoiARc7bCp4vviEsRrYY5bKuUWA-DI8YGYXuVG5SK5Sq1RyZcOoF7i7CU0rQExv7dVcjaZ0fkVmf6Qkj5eCp/s1600/Nauzyciel.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 335px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijyXauM5OQ8HSjnoRMQBLDvyS4h7sZhsh4SoejN1N2hbMXmD9UKkvAWpBOtoiARc7bCp4vviEsRrYY5bKuUWA-DI8YGYXuVG5SK5Sq1RyZcOoF7i7CU0rQExv7dVcjaZ0fkVmf6Qkj5eCp/s400/Nauzyciel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5729194659395641314" /></a><br />Joe Broderick with Arthur Nauzyciel.Leslie Carmichaelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13196409141050495747noreply@blogger.com0