Today is a much-needed day off. Really, another day off would be even better, however, one mustn't complain. I'm just happy I can spend a day in my nightshirt, tucked up with my cats while I do such things as catch up on correspondence, read, do homework, wash dishes, etc. I should clean my apartment, but it'll just have to wait. Vacuuming would seriously detract from the peace I'm enjoying today. I'm listening to Early Music and talking to as few people as possible. (Haha, my phone is ringing right now and I'm not answering it.)
I have had a nice weekend, despite working. On Saturday morning, I woke up when my doorbell sounded. Confused, I pulled on some pants and staggered to the door to see my friend Andrew peering in. Oh yes, we had a date to go look at stuff at a living room sale. Silly me, I must have turned off my alarm in my sleep. Fifteen minutes, I assured him, and sure enough, 20 minutes later, we were backing out and heading off. It amazes me that I can put on a face and clothing in that little time. The living room sale was good, even though I was mainly there for Andrew. He purchased a kitchen table and a rocking chair, and I a pair of CD racks. We were served coffee and given grab backs of stuff when we left. It was fun.
We went to the Bonanza Inn for a greasy spoon sort of breakfast. In the foyer, we met Anna, an old friend of mine from highschool back in Toronto. I'd met her in the spring when I first arrived in Whitehorse, but we'd never gotten together. Well, we did at the Bonanza. We enjoyed a very tasty breakfast with her and her son and nephew, and her sister was our waitress. A guy named Len joined us at some point later, who was obviously, like Anna, a regular there. Good times were had by all. We also heard a rumour that the Arts Centre exec would be leaving, which amused me.
After work, Andrew returned to the Arts Centre and we prepared to watch a classical concert featuring the most talented Susanne Yi-Jia Hou on violin. She is an extremely personable and charming young violinist of Canada, who has been busy touring the world with her accompanyist, Vincent, a graduate of Juliard's Masters programme. They were excellent together and clearly have a good rapport, at least as musicians, and I presume personally, too. I dozed on and off through the Schubert, which is not a reflection of the playing, but of my level of exhaustion. It reminded me of when I was a kid and dozing off at the Messiah - I woke for all my favourite parts and enjoyed it thoroughly. It's a really pleasant way to snooze. I was amused at the reception when the local opera diva, Sonja Anderssen (sp?), who had been roped into turning pages for the pianist at last minute, told Hou that she didn't "play the music". No. She "sings" it. I presume for an opera diva, that is the highest of compliments. Even a diva of, in my opinion, less ability than her attitude suggests. Heh, Hou took it graciously, of course.
Sunday, I ran a KidzKreate in the Production Room/Studio Theatre. It was themed "Stark Raven Mad" to incorporate the Raven Tales show in the Gallery, by local Yukon artist Alice Park-Spurr. It had a moderate turn-out, but that's okay, since the weather was snowy and the roads somewhat precarious. (Hello, Whitehorse, have you ever heard of snowplows?) One of the little boys attending hugged me goodbye at the end - it was so cute. I also started hanging a new exhibit in the KidzGallery (which I'm thinking of renaming). Once I was at home, as I was deprived of my Masterpiece Theatre fix, I spent the evening doing mounds of homework and reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, which I'm enjoying way too much. I broke my own rule ! Never, I say, read two books in the same series one after the other, for without proper spacing, you're left waiting for the next installment. Sadly, I'll be waiting for the next installment, but Order of the Phoenix was just so good, I had to pick up the next one.
Anyway, now I should go wash my dishes and start marinating my steak.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
It's a strange feeling, realising that you really are no longer part of a group. It's not a feeling I much like, either, as it makes me think of all the times I'd been excluded by my peers when I was a kid. I'm not saying my friends back in Ontario don't still love me, because they do, but I'm not part of their lives. What had been a 'great' idea, to have me join in to stuff via webcam has been forgotten, even when I've reminded them, and while it's not really that important, I guess, it's symbolic of something larger. Here I am, trying to cling to the familiar, in part because it's so hard to build a real social network here, and I'm being forced to move on.
The show is up in the Gallery, the artists have come and gone. I was, once again, the liaison and spent a lot of time shuttling them hither and yon. The two artists up from Toronto, John Greyson (filmmaker) and David Wall (composer), were truly delightful. I had a wonderful time with them. They represented, to me, everything I love about Toronto. Physical contact, quick wit, an expansive intellectual intelligence, an openess about issues, style, and generosity of spirit. Yes, on the whole, there is a coldness to Toronto, a superficial charm that is only a veneer to the distant and apathetic nature of the city, but these men were not like that at all. I laughed and talked with them in a way I haven't with anyone else since arriving here (Gareth not included). Even my flat, Torontonian accent deepened ('innerac' vs. 'interac').
In other news that won't make me feel more of a funk, my cats are awesome. Twee is a bossy boots when it comes to demanding things like attention, food, love - complaining loudly and generally reminding myself and Choco of his existence. Choco is still a silly boy and gets himself into jackpots, like when he jumped into the tub again while it was full of water. And he knew it ! What a dork. And when he got himself stuck in my chest of drawers. Twee, yowls terribly when I shower because it is obviously trying to eat me, but sleeps next to the tub when I am taking a bath. Both boys sleep with me at night, sometimes under the covers, which is really warm, and vie for my lap when I sit on the couch. I'm very, very happy that I adopted them, both of them. They are my little treasures in this remote and sometimes lonely place.
The show is up in the Gallery, the artists have come and gone. I was, once again, the liaison and spent a lot of time shuttling them hither and yon. The two artists up from Toronto, John Greyson (filmmaker) and David Wall (composer), were truly delightful. I had a wonderful time with them. They represented, to me, everything I love about Toronto. Physical contact, quick wit, an expansive intellectual intelligence, an openess about issues, style, and generosity of spirit. Yes, on the whole, there is a coldness to Toronto, a superficial charm that is only a veneer to the distant and apathetic nature of the city, but these men were not like that at all. I laughed and talked with them in a way I haven't with anyone else since arriving here (Gareth not included). Even my flat, Torontonian accent deepened ('innerac' vs. 'interac').
In other news that won't make me feel more of a funk, my cats are awesome. Twee is a bossy boots when it comes to demanding things like attention, food, love - complaining loudly and generally reminding myself and Choco of his existence. Choco is still a silly boy and gets himself into jackpots, like when he jumped into the tub again while it was full of water. And he knew it ! What a dork. And when he got himself stuck in my chest of drawers. Twee, yowls terribly when I shower because it is obviously trying to eat me, but sleeps next to the tub when I am taking a bath. Both boys sleep with me at night, sometimes under the covers, which is really warm, and vie for my lap when I sit on the couch. I'm very, very happy that I adopted them, both of them. They are my little treasures in this remote and sometimes lonely place.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
There's a certain segment of the population in every Canadian centre. By centre, I mean every town over 1000 people, and by segment, I mean the high-earning, upper-middle class WASP. Who are these people? Well, they often believe in fiscal conservatism while supporting a social safety net, and they frequently go to events like "the opera" because they believe it's something they ought to do, although when asked, many of them aren't sure they "get" it. They work as lawyers, doctors, upper management in Government; sometimes they're well enough off that they don't really need to work at all. Additionally, they have pleasant if not 'good' taste, believe that Christmas comes with a cinnamon and evergreen scent, have lots of large books that they've never read but leave out in strategic places so that people think they're clever, have a dog, a cat, and two cars in their garage. Often, the wives work, but don't really need to; it's mostly to "keep busy" or "get out of the house" or even to put their "university education to use". Frequently these women are blonde, though not by nature. Probably, these people are all over the western world.
You know the type.
They're many of the people that go to fundraisers and galas and drop wads of cash for questionable products in support of hospitals and causes. In large centres, they also support the Arts. In smaller centres, where frequently the Arts struggle for notice, they don't. Well, Whitehorse has a shockingly high number of these people, because it is, primarily, a Government town, employing many people into the public sector, to, so far as I can tell, run a territory that wouldn't have much a population to speak of if it weren't, you know, for the government. Back in Toronto, when I worked at the ROM in the Membership Department, I was disgustingly good at parting these people from their money and making them feel special at events (mainly so that they would continue to be parted with their money).
Well, tonight I saw that segment of the population here in Whitehorse and I realised something. With the exception of possibly 20 or so of the 200 people (possibly more) in attendance, these people are not making it to the Gallery. To the Theatre, probably some of them, but into the Gallery for more than just an Intermission stroll? Not so much. They are not taking an active role in the Visual Arts at all. And tonight, watching them ogle fashions created by a local, rather pleasant - if not to my tastes - though not spectacular fashion designer who seems to specialise in gowns and party frocks, I realised we're missing out. We being the Arts Centre. We're missing out big time. When you can actually consider, without batting an eyelash, purchasing a charming, if not particularly interesting, wool toque for 70 to 110 dollars, or frou-frou organza numbers for a whole hell of a lot more, despite living in a climate that requires Sorel -40 boots for five months of the year, I need to meet you. I NEED TO TAKE YOUR MONEY.
I once swore I would not do fundraising again, and mostly, I mean it, but the Arts Centre does nothing to raise funds. It's the most pathetic Arts organisation, ever They have two boards, a board of directors and a foundation board. The foundation board is responsible for raising money specifically for the Gallery collection, so I've been told, and in five years, this board has not raised a finger, nor raised a penny. Coincidence? Hah, not likely. They make the excuse that as the population ages, they will ramp up their activities to gain those sweet, sweet bequests - you know, the gifts from or in the name of dead people. Right.
And what of all the living people? What of the incredibly well-paid two-income government households with money burning their pockets? Those people who wear clothes that look casual, but you just know they paid lots of money for them, and who drive SUVs but don't seem to understand the 'utility' part of the name? Who can comfortably take a family of four from the Yukon to the Carribean for their holidays? The very same people who were at tonights fashion show?
Right, well, the foundation doesn't seem to see the wide world of wealthy people, even though it is apparently made up of them. The reason, I think, is because Whitehorse is the home of Government hand-out and entitlement. Truly, the home is not Ottawa, like people seem to think, it's here. Where people get paid $150K a year to head commissions that do nothing but make plans that go no where.
Like I said, why the hell aren't they being milked for Arts support? They'll dish out 230 bucks for a necklace that is made of semi-precious stones on two strings with a bobble, but they won't put five dollars in the Gallery admission box. What is wrong with that picture? If, in my time here, I can run an event each year that brings money IN to the Gallery, I will be thrilled. A couple of events, a doubling (at least) of school attendance, and a handful of exciting shows that I have curated for the Community Gallery, then I will have a fat portfolio that I can take anywhere in the world.
But first... first I need to do some homework.
You know the type.
They're many of the people that go to fundraisers and galas and drop wads of cash for questionable products in support of hospitals and causes. In large centres, they also support the Arts. In smaller centres, where frequently the Arts struggle for notice, they don't. Well, Whitehorse has a shockingly high number of these people, because it is, primarily, a Government town, employing many people into the public sector, to, so far as I can tell, run a territory that wouldn't have much a population to speak of if it weren't, you know, for the government. Back in Toronto, when I worked at the ROM in the Membership Department, I was disgustingly good at parting these people from their money and making them feel special at events (mainly so that they would continue to be parted with their money).
Well, tonight I saw that segment of the population here in Whitehorse and I realised something. With the exception of possibly 20 or so of the 200 people (possibly more) in attendance, these people are not making it to the Gallery. To the Theatre, probably some of them, but into the Gallery for more than just an Intermission stroll? Not so much. They are not taking an active role in the Visual Arts at all. And tonight, watching them ogle fashions created by a local, rather pleasant - if not to my tastes - though not spectacular fashion designer who seems to specialise in gowns and party frocks, I realised we're missing out. We being the Arts Centre. We're missing out big time. When you can actually consider, without batting an eyelash, purchasing a charming, if not particularly interesting, wool toque for 70 to 110 dollars, or frou-frou organza numbers for a whole hell of a lot more, despite living in a climate that requires Sorel -40 boots for five months of the year, I need to meet you. I NEED TO TAKE YOUR MONEY.
I once swore I would not do fundraising again, and mostly, I mean it, but the Arts Centre does nothing to raise funds. It's the most pathetic Arts organisation, ever They have two boards, a board of directors and a foundation board. The foundation board is responsible for raising money specifically for the Gallery collection, so I've been told, and in five years, this board has not raised a finger, nor raised a penny. Coincidence? Hah, not likely. They make the excuse that as the population ages, they will ramp up their activities to gain those sweet, sweet bequests - you know, the gifts from or in the name of dead people. Right.
And what of all the living people? What of the incredibly well-paid two-income government households with money burning their pockets? Those people who wear clothes that look casual, but you just know they paid lots of money for them, and who drive SUVs but don't seem to understand the 'utility' part of the name? Who can comfortably take a family of four from the Yukon to the Carribean for their holidays? The very same people who were at tonights fashion show?
Right, well, the foundation doesn't seem to see the wide world of wealthy people, even though it is apparently made up of them. The reason, I think, is because Whitehorse is the home of Government hand-out and entitlement. Truly, the home is not Ottawa, like people seem to think, it's here. Where people get paid $150K a year to head commissions that do nothing but make plans that go no where.
Like I said, why the hell aren't they being milked for Arts support? They'll dish out 230 bucks for a necklace that is made of semi-precious stones on two strings with a bobble, but they won't put five dollars in the Gallery admission box. What is wrong with that picture? If, in my time here, I can run an event each year that brings money IN to the Gallery, I will be thrilled. A couple of events, a doubling (at least) of school attendance, and a handful of exciting shows that I have curated for the Community Gallery, then I will have a fat portfolio that I can take anywhere in the world.
But first... first I need to do some homework.