Well, the Ojos de Brujo and Son de la Frontera concert was great. S de la F (or as I call them, the “geniuses from Morón” ;-) were much more traditional than I expected. They had two guitarists, two singers and a dancer. It was great flamenco, but with only a few genre-bending twists (I especially liked a number that I would describe as country and western-slash-flamenco). Unfortunately, some annoying people standing behind me on the dancefloor were disrespectfully “imitating” the singing and clapping, something that was obviously new and strange to them. Some people are not very open-minded. We finally had to tell them something in a language they would understand: “Ferme la!”

The concert got better from then on — Raúl Rodríguez, the lead guitarist (well, most of the time he was playing a guitar-like instrument known as the Cuban tres, which has a higher, sharper tone), was really incredible. He also had a very likeable look: he came across as genuine. And with a super-expressive face; so he smiled, frowned and grimaced his way through all the numbers. It was great. They were obviously having a great time, a theme which would be echoed in O de B’s show. Later, when O de B had just finished their two-hour set, I saw Raúl standing alone at one of the club’s bars, so I sneaked over and told him how much I enjoyed the show. I think he was a bit surprised to have a rubio speaking to him in Spanish…

O de B were great, as they were last time at the Spectrum. Even if you’re not into their music it would be hard not to feel their joy of performing. The Metropolis was packed to the rafters, and I found a spot on the dancefloor about 4m back from the stage. The Montreal crowd was very good to them, too. The group seemed surprised and delighted at how much we were enjoying them. (I wonder if they had as good receptions in San Francisco or New York, where they’d been just before.) Much of the crowd (where I was, at least) was Spanish, Spanish-speaking, or local flamenco dancing “chicas” (students). It seemed everyone around me knew how to do palmas.

At one point, someone leapt up on stage and started dancing. It turned ugly (not because anything bad happened; just because those people made fools of themselves!) but the band wasn’t at all freaked out. The security people are usually pretty quick to toss folk off stage, but in this case they hesitated. More and more people took that as their cue to get up on stage. Eventuallly, the head security guy (looking very pissed off at his indecisive underlings) intervened to get the impostors off-stage. It was a bit tense and weird, mainly because it looked like the people up there were there only because they wanted to be seen, not because they were into the music.

During one of the encore numbers, Marina “la Canillas” hauled a girl up on stage. She then started bringing a few more girls from the audience up on stage, and one of the security underlings actually was recruited to help her. They danced, and this time it had a good feel to it (and, no, not just because they were all cute girls!); they obviously knew and loved the music and were singing along. Eventually grumpy security guy very politely helped them off stage again.

Especially impressive — besides the magical stage presence of la Mari — were multi-percussionist Xavi; the “real gypsy” guitarist Ramón; Javi on bass and Maxwell Wright with his high-speed vocal effects. There was also a beautiful flamenco dancer who performed during some numbers, along with the requisite costume changes. This group is all about the music. They love to perform, and they do it brilliantly. They’re also notable for eschewing big-name record labels and instead have made it “their way,” under their own record label. The video projections were also fantastic; not detracting from what was happening onstage, but instead a perfect accompaniment. A great show full of “good karma,” although I believe I should have worn earplugs…today I still can’t really hear in my left ear, which was dangerously close to one of the main loudspeakers.

Besides the fact that we’ve passed the solstice…? Well, in Montreal, we’ve had a few days of sweltering hot and humid weather (humidex into the low 40s), which is always a good clue. The Jazz Festival has started, and so has the International Fireworks Competition.

Last night, the fireworks were big and boomy, but for pure “lighting up the sky value,” I’d have to give the prize to Mother Nature, who added brilliant flashes of lightning as her contribution to the competition. (Including one blast that literally left my dishes rattling in the cupboards.) At least it didn’t start to rain until about a half-hour after the show finished, although it wouldn’t have mattered — these competitions go on: “rain, snow or shine.” Of course, even in midsummer, “shine” would be unusual at 10pm in Montreal…

I’m off to see Ojos de Brujo (from Barcelona) and Son de la Frontera (from the strangely-named town of “Morón de la Frontera” in Andalucía) on Friday at Metropolis, part of the Jazz Fest. As usual, none of my friends was interested, but it’s sure to be a great show. I saw O de B here two years ago and was blown away. They’re the kind of band you may need to see live to get hooked on. I wasn’t really keen on their CDs until I saw them perform…now I love the albums too! So much energy. Am curious to hear S de la F, too — have heard OF them but not FROM them yet.

Meanwhile, I sit and wait…my life may be undergoing drastic changes soon. As of Tuesday, I am officially waiting for a residence visa for Spain (because Tuesday is when I finally got all my “ducks in a row” and dropped off the pile of application paperwork). The information they give you indicates it can take up to four months. On the other hand, the person at the Consulate told me to call back for status in two weeks(!). We’ll see. There is so much unknown and uncertainty about this whole process (each case is unique, and their decisions seem to be subjective, not objective…there is no precise list of things to “do” to be guaranteed to get it). I’ll just be glad when it’s over — at which point (assuming and hoping I get it) I will move to Spain and begin the much longer and more complex of “settling” there. Of course, I won’t be alone — I’m well supported by my “chocolatina”, waiting for me on the other end.

Even though it’s possible to visit Spain for up to three months at a time without a visa, you do need the 90-day residence visa (applied for in your home country) in order to apply for a one-year residence permit (applied for in Spain). Once there, you also need to get your NIE (foreigner’s id number) and ID card, you need to apply for the empadronamiento, you need to figure out how to get a driver’s licence (which will surely involve a full written and driving test). All of which are bound to be an adventure. But first things first…and now I’m just waiting for the visa.

Then there’s the matter of figuring out what to do with my place and all my stuff. I have decided I want to “live lightly”, not moving much with me, and so have been (slowly) unloading things on EBay and through personal connections. But there is still a LOT. How do we accumulate so much? And some of it (photos, letters, tax info) you can’t just decide to get rid of. Well, I suppose you could but I don’t want to. Once the visa is granted (fingers crossed) I will need to move quite quickly on all this…selling my place, etc.

Yes, it’s going to be a hot summer, but not long: I have a feeling it’s going to fly by.

What better way to celebrate the summer solstice than by flying west and north from Montreal to Edmonton? (Well, okay, maybe by continuing on up to Yellowknife, above 62 degrees North, where it will barely get dark at all tonight — their official sunset is at 23h39 and sunrise at 3h39.)  This morning, I woke up at 6am (the sun had been up for an hour in Montreal) and got my flight to Edmonton. Tonight, the sun will set here at 22h07 local time (would be midnight Montreal time, hence the “extra-long” bit, for me).

Mind you, I went to bed around 2h this morning, so I think I’m going to celebrate all those fantastic extra hours of daylight by…having a nice afternoon siesta! Yes indeed, that’s what I’m off to do right now.

Good night! (er, I mean: day!)

P.S. I’m here for my sister’s “post-wedding party for all the Western relatives and friends who couldn’t make it to the real wedding.” (That’s right, I said post-party, which has nothing to do with postpartum, don’t worry!)

I must speak out! About fashion, no less. Those who know me might consider this a tad hypocritical. “El J.Z.,” they might say, “what right do you have to judge? You are many things, but a fashion all-star is not one of them.”

It’s true that I have, at times, dressed in ways that some would label “geeky,” while others might label “regrettable.” We fringe-dwellers call it living life on the EJZ (that’s prounounced “edges,” kids). But if I don’t care what people think of me…why should anyone care about my fashion views? Well, frankly they shouldn’t. Not that it’s going to stop me. No, blogs are for the disenfranchised, the frustrated, the mildly irritated. They’re for people who have something to say even when they’re certain no one is listening. And that’s me. And so, on with the show…

Those giant bug-eyed sunglasses that are so popular with women (and some men) these days look ridiculous. That’s it; I said it; I’m done. (Ah, you ask, so why does the post ramble on for another five or six paragraphs? Smart-aleck.) Normally, we’re supposed to look back on trends from ages past with disdain. You know: bell-bottoms; mullet haircuts; glow-in-the-dark shoelaces; mini-skirts (oops, how’d that one get on the list!). We’re supposed to laugh at the naïveté of a bygone era, or at least reel with the shameful knowledge that “we were once like that.” And how are we able to do this? With time and distance. With perspective. The point is that fashion trends are at least supposed to seem cool when we’re in them, because we don’t know better (yet).

Speaking of sunglasses, I feel like I’ve awakened from the Matrix and am living in the harshness of the “real world,” because I can see through it all (through the artifice, if not the sunglasses). And the reality is that they look silly. They did in the 70s; they did last summer; they do this summer; and they will in twenty years. I’m not saying stop wearing them; you have a right to that. I’m just saying don’t expect me not to laugh a little, inside.

Says me.

Opinions can be ill-informed, they can be brutally direct to the point of cruelty. But the beauty of opinions is that they are subjective; they can’t be wrong. At least, that’s my opinion and I’m sticking to it.

[Full disclosure: Your beloved Jardinero used to wear ridiculously large (non-sun) glasses in the 80s, but no one considered them cool then. Neither would they be cool now by any stretch of the imagination. And that has nothing to do with this discussion. Neither do his white socks with brown shoes. Nor the farmer’s tan. Really.]

[Full disclosure #2: I realize that the last thing the Internet needs is another blog whining about large sunglasses (I just did a search and it turns out there already are…er, a few of them). They invariably explode into insoluble Mac-versus-PC-esque religious wars. {The Olsen twins,Britney Spears,Paris Hilton} look{s} awesome; no they’re stupid; no, they’re hot. You suck. You suck. No, I rule! Etc. It quickly gets tiresome, so let’s spare ourselves the hassle. For the record, yes I do agree there are many more important things in the world than the contents of this post. Yes, my efforts probably could have been put to better use, saving the {seals,trees,planet}. I’ve said my piece — now let’s all just move on and save time and stress by contributing no further discussion to this post. Thank you all for your comprehension, you’ve been very understanding.]

[Executive summary: If someone as “fashion-tolerant” as I am thinks giant bug-eyed sunglasses look silly, then the glasses must be really, really awful.]

…with those eyes of yours. The makers of a new Canadian short film have integrated real eye performances with stop-motion animated puppets. The result looks quite spectacular: both emotionally engaging and spooky. The NFB-supported film, Madame Tutli-Putli, looks fantastic, at least judging from the trailer and “making of” stuff I’ve seen on the web. I can’t wait to be able to see it in its entirety.

The eye replacement “trick” they’re using is something that I’m sure will be copied in Hollywood and independent films alike, simply because it’s a great idea. It may be a ton of work to do well (read more about portrait artist Jason Walker’s digital compositing work here, or look at the gallery on his site), but hey — what isn’t painstaking in the animation world?

I suppose it would be only fair to mention the vaguely similar yet completely different Québécois animation phenomenon called Têtes à Claques. (Caution: only attempt to enjoy these goofy episodes if you are fluent in Joual! ;-)

In the same way that the bullet-time effect became almost cliché after The Matrix showed us how cool it was, I wonder if, in a few years, we will be rolling our eyes (quick, someone, grab a video camera!) to see this new technique being used in yet another film. For now, though, it’s fresh and innovative — if Madame Tutli-Putli is screened in your town, go see it and simply enjoy the filmmakers’ magical visual style. Also, its about riding a train cross-country, which is always cool. I haven’t seen it yet, so I can’t claim to know Mme. T-P personally. But on first appearance I think she looks like she may be the love-child of Amélie Poulain and Charlie Chaplin. Could be the hat. Or maybe it’s those big eyes.

How about for the surreal Japanese-English “poetry”? To intimidate smokers, here in Canada, we get right to the point. The packages are covered with horrible pictures of damaged lungs, dead fetuses, mouth cancer sores, and grim death-related slogans (Cigarettes hurt babies; Tobacco use can make you impotent). In Japan, they’re a bit more cute about it. Here are some anti-smoking signs, from a “smoking station” in Tokyo (see the reference image here, in Flickr):

• A lit cigarette is carried at the height of a child’s face. (Especially true if it’s a child smoking it, I suppose.) Gotta love that illustration — but why the helicopter? I also love the fact that they leave it up to you to decide whether face-height cigarettes are a good or bad thing. “Just the facts,” indeed.
• I carry a 700°C fire in my hand with people walking all around me. Again, is this really so bad? In fact, it sounds kind of superhero-ish. Maybe I’ll start smoking just so I, too, can be cool and carry a 700°C fire in my hand! Let’s see how close the people around me walk once they see that!
• This one’s a sad love poem: Inhaled. Burned. Thrown away. If it were anything but a cigarette, it would surely be crying. You know, I hadn’t thought about it from the cigarette’s point of view, but this is a good point: I’m starting to feel a bit sorry for all the poor cigarettes I’ve neglected to smoke in my life. What about their needs? Seems I’m hurting them more than they’re hurting me. I love the illustration of the person “making love” to the cigarette (meet; love; the end — how true). And there’s that bird, sitting in a tree, watching the whole pathetic scene, as autumn leaves silently tumble to earth like so many flame-extinguishing tears.
• The cool cowboy flicks his cigarette butt into the street. But he lives in an old movie. It seems the cool heroes and villains of “a long time ago” were very much larger-than-life. At least, larger than their horses. I guess to look cool riding a Shetland Pony, you pretty much need to smoke!

Or should that be: “Long post? No time!” Wow, it’s been a little while, hasn’t it? The quick summary, then — among other things, I’ve recently:

• hosted a rather pleasant(!) visitor from Spain. This lovely visitor continues to try to convince me (by the sheer force of her extreme pleasantness) to move across the Atlantic. My resistance continues to weaken, in spite of the overwhelmingness of imagining “lightening my load” in life (house; tons of physical and emotional “stuff”) and making such a massive change. Exciting but scary (scary but exciting?). To that end, though, I continue to gather the information and “fiddly bits” I need to successfully apply for a residence visa.
• gone to my sister’s beautiful wedding in small-town Manitoba (well, technically it was in the second-biggest city in the province), where I had to MC the reception. I split the emceeing duties with the groom’s brother, but I haven’t managed to figure out whether I was the ‘M’ or the ‘C’ (fortunately I, K, E and Y weren’t able to make it).
• seen the latest great Robert Lepage play, called Lipsynch. This one was a walk in the park, as it was “only” five hours long! (the last one was six or seven hours, and this one — once it is “final” in a year or so — is supposed to clock in at around nine hours…) No one ever believes me, but his work is normally so engrossing (touching, funny, thought-provoking) that you truly don’t notice the time flying by. Plus there are always two lengthy intermissions where you can eat, drink and make merry.
• wandered among the scantily-clad people at the first of two consecutive street sales on St-Laurent (there was also one on Mont-Royal near my place). Being a bit unintentionally scantily-clad thanks to my “holey” underwear, I took the opportunity to make my biennial underwear purchases.
• continued to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous smoking neighbours and mysterious parking-space manipulators…perhaps some day these stories will be told, but not today.
• gotten sick (again) and gotten better (again, thankfully). I love jogging but suspect it may be one of the culprits. Instead of running (and speaking of “walks in the park”), I’ve started hiking up Mont Royal with heavy weights strapped to my back. I’ve been carrying a 30lb backpack and hiking up the mountain from my place, then up and down the “top stairs” (close to 40m vertical) a bunch of times (e.g. five times). I figured yesterday I hiked around 7km with a total vertical gain of 300m…not bad considering the elevation difference between my house and the summit is only around 140m. And though it’s practically downtown, the walk is through a beautiful green forest. What a great city: you almost feel like you’re in “real” nature — in fact, I could only barely hear the whine and roar of the Formula One on Île Notre Dame, about 5km away…
• continued working on my novel. Up to almost 150 pages (somewhere between 1/3 and 1/2 of the first draft), though the going has been getting tougher, recently. Have I lost my momentum, with all the “other stuff” going on? With writing (as with life), I have bad days, then incredibly amazing days, followed by a series of not-so-great days to balance it all out. Consistency is not something I’m known for. Unless consistent inconsistency counts. That, I mastered long ago.