Wine Australia held a launch of their new products at Sassafraz Restaurant in Yorkville on August 18, 2009. The purpose was to promote wines for the holiday season, even if it is several months away. It seemed odd to be listening to Christmas music on a hot August day, but when the spread is as awesome as this one, you really shouldn’t quibble.
My press kit tells me that Australia is the fourth largest wine exporter in the world, shipping 2.5 million bottles to over 100 countries annually. I figured as much, considering that everybody I know drinks Yellow Tail Shiraz. But the sheer variety of the wines on display this day couldn’t help but impress.
Wine Australia has created a brand strategy that divides wine makers into four categories. They are Brand Champions (the usual stuff that everyone buys at the liquor store); Generation Next (for people “who drink wine for social occasion and/or peer group affinity, rather than for wine attribute alone”); Regional Heroes (“These are wines from somewhere rather than wines from anywhere”); and Landmark Australia (consisting largely of expensive stuff found in nice restaurants like Sassafraz).
Typically of a tasting, one is given a glass with which to sample various brands. A tiny bit is poured, and you’re supposed to swish it around and smell it, but I just want to knock it back. I start with some chilled whites that look perfect on this sticky, humid day. The Terra Barossa Riesling 2008 ($14.95) is refreshing, as is the Leconfield Chardonnay 2008 ($22.95). Then I hop over to the red table and sample the Gemtree Vineyards Bloodstone Shiraz Viognier 2008 ($17.30) and the Cabernet Sauvignon 2006 ($19.95), both of which go down quite nicely. By now, I’m feeling a bit tizzy, so it was clearly time to visit the food table.
Here’s where Sassafraz has a chance to show off. The pile of prosciutto makes me happy, as does the crisp spinach salad with pumpkin seeds. Over at the hot table, a cute chef doles out the rarest rack of lamb and the biggest grilled prawns I’ve seen in ages. There is also a perfect potato salad and chocolates painted different metallic colours. I didn’t even touch the giant turkey with stuffing and cranberries, as I was just too full.
Finally, it was time to celebrate with a sparkling wine, and here is where the event went into overdrive. The Skillogalee Sparkling Riesling ($20.00) was crisp, delicious and dry, a near-perfect drink at a near-perfect event. I adore wine tasting, and when the company puts out a ravishing spread like Wine Australia and Sassafraz did on this day, it’s hard not to go home happy.
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Monday, August 10, 2009
Razzle Dazzle
Jason Dinetz is a showman. His most recent presentation was called Razzle Dazzle, performed at Goodhandy’s on Aug. 8 and 9. At first I wasn’t even sure I was in Goodhandy’s, as Jason covered all of the naked men pictures with his own posters.
Jason’s commitment to his work is absolute. The production values were outstanding. The cast consisted of Jason and five lovely ladies (Rachelle Ganesh, Tara Joshi, Melissa Yang, Jackie Wood, and Jennifer Fell). They did more than back him up, they took the stage with bold choreography and one of the girls even does an aerial act.
Really, the whole show was very effective. Interspersed with the musical numbers was video playback, the best being his parody of MTV’s Cribs. Less effective was a reel of testimonials, my own included. We don’t need to hear how fabulous he is – we can see it. If I question anything, it might be Jason’s own costumes, verging on S&M Gap. I watched the whole show with Goodhandy’s security dude Matthew Pierce, and the two of us were dumbfounded over the artfully placed trousers zipper applied to Jason’s face during one particular number.
There were performances of “Ray of Light” and “Razzle Dazzle” from Chicago, as well as several songs from his own CD, Inspiration. I particularly enjoyed the stark presentation of the ballad “So Long Till Next Time”. But there were also whips and chains and masks and the whole show ended with a fire act. It was fine breathless entertainment. If things don’t work out for Jason Dinetz the performer, not to worry. Anyone who can mount a show like this would certainly flourish behind the scenes as well.
Jason’s commitment to his work is absolute. The production values were outstanding. The cast consisted of Jason and five lovely ladies (Rachelle Ganesh, Tara Joshi, Melissa Yang, Jackie Wood, and Jennifer Fell). They did more than back him up, they took the stage with bold choreography and one of the girls even does an aerial act.
Really, the whole show was very effective. Interspersed with the musical numbers was video playback, the best being his parody of MTV’s Cribs. Less effective was a reel of testimonials, my own included. We don’t need to hear how fabulous he is – we can see it. If I question anything, it might be Jason’s own costumes, verging on S&M Gap. I watched the whole show with Goodhandy’s security dude Matthew Pierce, and the two of us were dumbfounded over the artfully placed trousers zipper applied to Jason’s face during one particular number.
There were performances of “Ray of Light” and “Razzle Dazzle” from Chicago, as well as several songs from his own CD, Inspiration. I particularly enjoyed the stark presentation of the ballad “So Long Till Next Time”. But there were also whips and chains and masks and the whole show ended with a fire act. It was fine breathless entertainment. If things don’t work out for Jason Dinetz the performer, not to worry. Anyone who can mount a show like this would certainly flourish behind the scenes as well.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Bare, the Musical
Bare is a rock musical about Catholic school kids wrestling with sexuality, chiefly homosexuality. The Canadian premiere runs at Hart House Theatre until August 1. The show, written by Jon Hartmere and Damon Intrabartolo, was first presented in Los Angeles in 2000, and its in the same vein as Rent, Spring Awakening, and other musicals geared towards a young audience. In the interest of full disclosure, I left at intermission. My eyes were sore from rolling. So this review is based on only half the show. Who knows, maybe Act Two was exponentially better.
I don’t want to be unfair to the show, from WatersEdge Productions. The young cast give it their all, though they are not helped by either the bizarre set design or the terrible sound mix. The audience, largely made up of students, seemed to know the material and got the jokes. It helped, also, that they over-reacted to the guys kissing on stage, making it seem all the more controversial.
The problem lies in the writing. The lyrics are horrible. So much sanctimony, so many ‘poor me-isms’. It was easy to hate the characters, gay and straight alike. The story concerns a mope named Peter (Wade Muir), full of love for an ambiguous flirt named Jason (Graham Parkhurst). Their tale is irritating, and so is the story of Nadia, a dumpy fat girl with a mean streak. As much as I disliked her character, I did think the actress, Claire Rouleau, did a great job, especially with the crybaby song “A Quiet Night At Home”. The show’s real standout, however, is Nichola Lawrence, a fat black girl playing a sassy nun who brought the stage to life whenever she appeared.
I grew up both Catholic and gay. I no longer consider myself either, although the men I have sex with might disagree. Apparently, I still give head like a Catholic. Perhaps it is because of this that I could barely sit through Bare. The subject matter felt beneath me. However, I loved the poster, which depicts a hot boy’s bare chest, a crucifix and two male arms ensnaring him. I wish I had enjoyed the show as much as I enjoy the poster.
I don’t want to be unfair to the show, from WatersEdge Productions. The young cast give it their all, though they are not helped by either the bizarre set design or the terrible sound mix. The audience, largely made up of students, seemed to know the material and got the jokes. It helped, also, that they over-reacted to the guys kissing on stage, making it seem all the more controversial.
The problem lies in the writing. The lyrics are horrible. So much sanctimony, so many ‘poor me-isms’. It was easy to hate the characters, gay and straight alike. The story concerns a mope named Peter (Wade Muir), full of love for an ambiguous flirt named Jason (Graham Parkhurst). Their tale is irritating, and so is the story of Nadia, a dumpy fat girl with a mean streak. As much as I disliked her character, I did think the actress, Claire Rouleau, did a great job, especially with the crybaby song “A Quiet Night At Home”. The show’s real standout, however, is Nichola Lawrence, a fat black girl playing a sassy nun who brought the stage to life whenever she appeared.
I grew up both Catholic and gay. I no longer consider myself either, although the men I have sex with might disagree. Apparently, I still give head like a Catholic. Perhaps it is because of this that I could barely sit through Bare. The subject matter felt beneath me. However, I loved the poster, which depicts a hot boy’s bare chest, a crucifix and two male arms ensnaring him. I wish I had enjoyed the show as much as I enjoy the poster.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Challenging Traditions
Growing up in Canada, we were always exposed to First Nations art, and frankly, it all looked the same. So when my friend Gary, a fan of such work, asked me to accompany him to the McMichael Gallery for a show, I was indifferent.
Until I saw the show. Called Challenging Traditions: Contemporary First Nations Art of the Northwest Coast, it runs until September 20, 2009. Much of the work is sculptural. Native artists love to carve wood, especially yellow cedar, and no one is better at it. But the whole point of the exhibit is to show Native artists working with non-traditional materials, like silver gilt, lacquered aluminum, or etched glass. Gary’s favorite piece showed an eagle in attack mode, mounted atop a Celtic cross. “That’s my next tattoo,” he exclaimed. I also enjoyed the box of etched glass, lit from inside, which threw wild shadows on the wall; the raven made of black glass; and the gigantic head mask that made me think about what it would be like to be Jack of the Beanstalk fame. There are also incredible totem poles and silver bracelets and carved boxes painted in lovely shades of blue and red.
As we wandered through the gallery, Gary wondered what each individual piece might cost. A fortune, I’m sure. Much of the imagery is scary, mythical, breathtaking, but rarely sexual. More than half of it left me in awe. Later, in the gift shop, I flipped through the exhibition catalogue and it confirmed my belief, that seeing pictures of a magnificent sculpture cannot begin to compare with seeing it from a distance of two feet.
The McMichael Gallery is a nice place, very calm and clean. It proudly boasts the fact that it is 100% Canadian. This is one of the more interesting art exhibits I’ve seen in a long time, well worth the drive to Kleinberg.
Until I saw the show. Called Challenging Traditions: Contemporary First Nations Art of the Northwest Coast, it runs until September 20, 2009. Much of the work is sculptural. Native artists love to carve wood, especially yellow cedar, and no one is better at it. But the whole point of the exhibit is to show Native artists working with non-traditional materials, like silver gilt, lacquered aluminum, or etched glass. Gary’s favorite piece showed an eagle in attack mode, mounted atop a Celtic cross. “That’s my next tattoo,” he exclaimed. I also enjoyed the box of etched glass, lit from inside, which threw wild shadows on the wall; the raven made of black glass; and the gigantic head mask that made me think about what it would be like to be Jack of the Beanstalk fame. There are also incredible totem poles and silver bracelets and carved boxes painted in lovely shades of blue and red.
As we wandered through the gallery, Gary wondered what each individual piece might cost. A fortune, I’m sure. Much of the imagery is scary, mythical, breathtaking, but rarely sexual. More than half of it left me in awe. Later, in the gift shop, I flipped through the exhibition catalogue and it confirmed my belief, that seeing pictures of a magnificent sculpture cannot begin to compare with seeing it from a distance of two feet.
The McMichael Gallery is a nice place, very calm and clean. It proudly boasts the fact that it is 100% Canadian. This is one of the more interesting art exhibits I’ve seen in a long time, well worth the drive to Kleinberg.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Two Sondheim Shows
On Wednesday, June 17, Howard Kane and I drove all the way to the Shaw Festival at Niagara on the Lake to take in a matinee of Sunday In the Park with George, at the Royal George Theatre. We were by far the youngest people there, a busload of seniors from something called ElderHostel having been bussed in earlier. Being Sondheim fanatics, we couldn’t wait for it to start, but 20 minutes into the performance, I could tell that it wasn’t working for either of us. Howard blamed the leads, Steven Sutcliffe and Julie Martell, but he also didn’t like the directing by Alisa Palmer. Beyond that, I wasn’t sure what didn’t click. It’s a very ambitious play, and I certainly admired the stagecraft, with all those gauze-covered panels zipping back and forth recreating the painting of Georges Seurat’s Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte. The music was also well performed. It wasn’t until I went home and watched a DVD of the original production, starring Mandy Patinkin and Bernadette Peters, that I realized that Howard was probably right.
Just two weeks earlier, Howard had directed a version of Sondheim’s Into the Woods, starring the teenagers he teaches at his school, the Children’s Theatre Project in Richmond Hill. I have to say I enjoyed it a lot more than Shaw’s George. Maybe it was the sight of cute kids struggling with such tough songs. Woods is a simpler, sweeter show, an examination of what happens after the Happily Ever After part of fairy tales. Sunday, an examination of the cost of creativity, spares no one, even providing a second act set in the bloated art market of the 80s. But both shows are so damn well written that almost any production would satisfy. At his best, Sondheim was better than anyone else. Both those kids Howard teaches and the actors at Shaw must benefit from performing such excellent material.
Just two weeks earlier, Howard had directed a version of Sondheim’s Into the Woods, starring the teenagers he teaches at his school, the Children’s Theatre Project in Richmond Hill. I have to say I enjoyed it a lot more than Shaw’s George. Maybe it was the sight of cute kids struggling with such tough songs. Woods is a simpler, sweeter show, an examination of what happens after the Happily Ever After part of fairy tales. Sunday, an examination of the cost of creativity, spares no one, even providing a second act set in the bloated art market of the 80s. But both shows are so damn well written that almost any production would satisfy. At his best, Sondheim was better than anyone else. Both those kids Howard teaches and the actors at Shaw must benefit from performing such excellent material.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
I Was Barbie
Nina Arsenault’s I Was Barbie is a monologue about how she was hired to portray Mattel’s signature dolly at Fashion Week. She takes us through the tale chronologically, from the initial phone call to the moment she got home that night. And what a tale it is.
Arsenault is one of Canada’s most renowned transpersons, and I Was Barbie is one of three shows she hopes to tour (the other two chronicle her dozens of surgeries necessary for her transformation, and a more serious story of a spell spent in a loony bin). She’s an old friend of mine, a former co-star of the gay sports comedy series Locker Room that aired on PrideVision about five years ago. We always had fun together. Now, she brings that spirit of fun to the stage.
Theatre is the ideal place for Arsenault. After all, she has two masters degrees in theatre from York University, and god knows she is truly something to behold. Last year, she starred in Ladylike, a somewhat sanctimonious Sky Gilbert play that didn’t do it for me. Her own writing is another story. I Was Barbie is not afraid to trash Canadian celebrities like Ben Mulroney, and it offers a rather thorough look at not just Fashion Week, but the nature of fashion itself, a world dominated by “really cunty ladies” and gay volunteers wearing headsets that reminded her of Battlestar Galactica crew members.
There is much talk of line-ups and VIP lists, but the best part is after the fashion show, when she is conscripted to pass out pink cupcakes to the jaded crowd. To reinforce the point, Arsenault ends the show by passing out a tray of the very same. The audience loved it. In fact, much of the monologue was accompanied by photos of the very things she was talking about, as though to offer proof that she was not lying. She needn’t have worried – with or without the proof, it’s a hilarious and fascinating look at the world of fashion, and best of all, ends on a positive note. The show was presented at Tallulah's Cabaret as part of a Buddies in Bad Times fundraiser, but let's hope it gets a longer run in the future. It's well worth seeing.
Arsenault is one of Canada’s most renowned transpersons, and I Was Barbie is one of three shows she hopes to tour (the other two chronicle her dozens of surgeries necessary for her transformation, and a more serious story of a spell spent in a loony bin). She’s an old friend of mine, a former co-star of the gay sports comedy series Locker Room that aired on PrideVision about five years ago. We always had fun together. Now, she brings that spirit of fun to the stage.
Theatre is the ideal place for Arsenault. After all, she has two masters degrees in theatre from York University, and god knows she is truly something to behold. Last year, she starred in Ladylike, a somewhat sanctimonious Sky Gilbert play that didn’t do it for me. Her own writing is another story. I Was Barbie is not afraid to trash Canadian celebrities like Ben Mulroney, and it offers a rather thorough look at not just Fashion Week, but the nature of fashion itself, a world dominated by “really cunty ladies” and gay volunteers wearing headsets that reminded her of Battlestar Galactica crew members.
There is much talk of line-ups and VIP lists, but the best part is after the fashion show, when she is conscripted to pass out pink cupcakes to the jaded crowd. To reinforce the point, Arsenault ends the show by passing out a tray of the very same. The audience loved it. In fact, much of the monologue was accompanied by photos of the very things she was talking about, as though to offer proof that she was not lying. She needn’t have worried – with or without the proof, it’s a hilarious and fascinating look at the world of fashion, and best of all, ends on a positive note. The show was presented at Tallulah's Cabaret as part of a Buddies in Bad Times fundraiser, but let's hope it gets a longer run in the future. It's well worth seeing.
Saturday, June 6, 2009
Gallery at 129 Ossington
Gallery at 129 Ossington hosted the openings of both Kate Domina and Neil Young on June 4, 2009. The two shows couldn’t be more different, but both were quite good.
Domina occupied the front half with her show, All my Friends are Imaginary, a collection of oil on canvas consisting mostly of portraits of bratty blonde children. The wit and style seemed to capture the crowd. One picture depicted a sour-faced little girl in a red polka dot dress, and in her breast pocket sits a miniature version of herself. My other favorite canvas featured another pouting child sporting antlers, with a little bird nestled atop. Hilarious, but also touching. Domina herself is a bright blonde, and clearly talented.
The back rooms were occupied by Nature and the City Abstracts, a series of resin-glossed paintings by Neil Young. His colour sense is fabulous, with the most seductive blues and greens. It’s his first show, but won’t be his last. It’s the type of art that sits comfortably in art galleries, upper class livingrooms, or gungy studios. If I had money, I’d buy one for my gungy upper class living room. Young gave up a career in architecture to become a painter. Despite the fact that he has famous name syndrome, he will probably do quite well as an artist.
Domina occupied the front half with her show, All my Friends are Imaginary, a collection of oil on canvas consisting mostly of portraits of bratty blonde children. The wit and style seemed to capture the crowd. One picture depicted a sour-faced little girl in a red polka dot dress, and in her breast pocket sits a miniature version of herself. My other favorite canvas featured another pouting child sporting antlers, with a little bird nestled atop. Hilarious, but also touching. Domina herself is a bright blonde, and clearly talented.
The back rooms were occupied by Nature and the City Abstracts, a series of resin-glossed paintings by Neil Young. His colour sense is fabulous, with the most seductive blues and greens. It’s his first show, but won’t be his last. It’s the type of art that sits comfortably in art galleries, upper class livingrooms, or gungy studios. If I had money, I’d buy one for my gungy upper class living room. Young gave up a career in architecture to become a painter. Despite the fact that he has famous name syndrome, he will probably do quite well as an artist.
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