Culture – Page 6 – Nicolas Demers

VQFF Review: Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow? is a sweet and hilarious Taiwanese comedy about gay desire and wacky family antics, which a surprisingly dramatic resolution.

Weinchung has been married to Feng for 8 years now. He has a perfectly normal job as an optometrist, a lovely six-year-old son… and a secret. Before marrying Feng he used to be gay, but now he’s becoming attracted to men again. Meanwhile Feng, nagged on by her parents and co-workers, wants to have another child. As it that wasn’t enough, Weinchung’s wild sister Mandy gets cold feet and abandons her fiancé San-San in a huge Costco-like department store. All of the plotlines and misadventures—Feng’s frustrations, Weinchung’s infatuation with a handsome airline attendant, San-San getting Stephen, his flamboyantly bitchy wedding photographer (who used to be part of Weinchung’s old crowd) to help him get Mandy back—are played for laughs until the last act, when Feng actually catches Weinchung and Thomas kissing (just a peck on the cheek, which is as far as it’s ever gotten outside of Weinchung’s imagination).

Then it gets serious. Feng angrily confronts her husband, who at first denies everything, then confesses. Feng is not angry anymore, but they don’t know where to go from here. At Mandy and San-San’s wedding (yes, they got back together, no thanks to Stephen), Weinchung publicly promises to stay by Feng’s side forever, having already dumped the airline attendant. But Feng floors him by asking for a divorce. He’s not in love with her, she calmly explains, and they both need the chance to find love again. She doesn’t regret the years they spent together, and they’ll still be family. He accepts, and the movie ends with them serenely walking out of the wedding reception together.

Well, I for one was pleasantly shocked. First, I expected lightweight comedy, and I would have been perfectly happy with that, but the ending was surprisingly strong. Second, especially in a comedy and even after the drama, I expected Weinchung and Feng to stay together. After all, hadn’t San-San and Mandy reconciled after their breakup and multiple pathetic seduction attempts? Of course, this was the only sane solution: neither spouse was happy with the status quo, and this was the best Happily Ever After they could hope for. It was a brave choice, both for the characters and the movie.

PS: I was intrigued by Mandy eating noodles while watching soap operas. I guess ice cream to drown your sorrows is not a thing in Taiwan?

VQFF Review: Hors les murs / Beyond the walls

Written and directed by David Lambert, this French film is a harsh meditation on power, choice and freedom. Not a happy movie by any means, it offers fascinating character development, an engrossing story, and a lot of food for thought.

At first it looked like your basic coming out story from a bygone decade: boy has girl, but boy also likes boys, boy hooks up with boy, girl kicks out boy, boy moves in with boy, the end. But no, in fact that was just where things got interesting. The movie begins with needy, whiny Paulo getting blind drunk in a bar and taken home by cool, sexy Albanian bartender Ilir. Nothing much happens right away, but Paulo is instantly attracted, and not being the sharpest tool in the shed doesn’t cover it up very well from his girlfriend. Having nobody else to turn to, he ends up at Ilir’s doorstep. Ilir, who’d just been looking for a bit of fun, reluctantly takes Paulo in.

And they stay together. At first I wasn’t sure why, because Paulo is needy and touchy-feely like an abandoned puppy, and in so many words asks Ilir to take care of him; I honestly found him incredibly annoying, and figured he must be a monster in the sack for anyone to put up with him for more than five minutes.

After some time, Ilir gets caught smuggling drugs, and is sent to prison. Paulo stays completely loyal, writing regularly and visiting him every week even after he moves in with a sex shop owner who had hit on him earlier, giving him money, even smuggling in drugs (not very successfully). Eventually Ilir asks Paulo to not visit him anymore: half an hour a week is too painful, and it’s “weakening” him at a time he needs to be strong and tough just to survive. Paulo initially refuses but Ilir forces the issue, pretends Paulo assaulted him which presumably bans him from visiting forever.

When Ilir is finally let out of prison, he goes to visit Paulo and finds him very much changed from the needy kid he used to know. A nice haircut, smart glasses, fancier clothes, a lot of money to throw around. Working at the sex shop now, still living with the owner, it looks like he’s moved on and up in the world. He’s also mostly over Ilir; though some of the old feelings are there, but when they spend the night in a fancy hotel room, there’s only drinking and talking, not sex. One last smiling selfie, and the two part ways. Perhaps forever, certainly for a while.

What’s interesting about the end is that Ilir and Paulo’s positions seem to be reversed. The poor, needy boy that followed his dick from relationship to relationship is now stable and in-control man, able to say “no”. Or is he? How free is Paulo if he’s depending on his daddy for room, board and affection? Is his life now much different than when he pathetically showed up at Ilir’s door?

As for Ilir, yes, his life was pretty good before, and went seriously downhill while he was in prison. But now? I think he’ll be okay. He doesn’t need to latch on to a lover to be complete. The very last scene, of him in a club watching his old band playing with a replacement bass player was interesting. He didn’t seem upset, but serene. His friends have moved on, and maybe he’ll be able to reconnect, but in the meantime it looks like he’s just wishing them well.

Some of the movie’s symbolism is a bit puzzling. Let’s start with the most obvious: “Ilir” is Albanian for “freedom”. Is this meaningful? As I said, Ilir did seem to be the free one, but that got reversed when he ended up in jail. And then reversed again when he got out?

Paulo’s symbolism also raises questions. It turns out he’s a BDSM sub; when Ilir went on what should have been a weekend trip out of town to smuggle hash, they bought a chastity cage for Paulo’s cock, and Ilir kept the key. Paulo only got free after going back to the sex shop and explaining his situation to the owner. So what should we read into that? Was Paulo trapped by Ilir, and freed by the shop owner? When he got into more hardcore BDSM with him, did he become less free? Are his romantic neediness and sub-ness related, or is the one just a symbol of the other? If you choose to enter an unequal relationship, do you become more or less free? Or am I just projecting my squeamishness about BDSM relationships?

A lot of questions, and I’m not even sure if they’re the right ones. But I think one question is pretty clear: at the end of the film, are Ilir and Paulo happy? And the answer is no. Their final smiles for the camera were nothing more than skin deep. A better question: will they be happy in the future? For Ilir, I’d say yes, because I get the impression that he’s learned from his experience and will find his way. For Paulo, I’m not so sure. He’s more self-confident, sure, and superficially successful, but that will probably change the second his romantic situation changes.

Still, I think I’ll end there. This was a difficult movie to sit through, because it’s painful to watch characters go through stupid and / or self-destructive behaviour. But it made me think: about what my own life choices might look like from the outside, what freedom means, and what happiness feels like. I didn’t exactly enjoy the experience, but I think I’m a little wiser for it.

VQFF Review: Magnifica Presenza / Magnificent Presence

Magnifica Presenza is a delightful film directed and co-written by Ferzan Özpetek. Though sad at times, it has many comedic moments, and many more uplifting ones. It is a tale about endings and new beginnings, about insecurity and confidence, and how the past can touch us even across generations. Also, ghosts.

Meet dorky, lonely Pietro. A humble baker (he only makes croissants) and aspiring actor, he has just rented an old house in Rome’s Monteverde neighbourhood. It’s remarkably cheap, even considering how run-down the place looks. Ignoring the advice of his stern, uptight cousin, Pietro is happy to move in and start fixing things up.

It’s only a little later that he discovers the house is haunted. At first he doesn’t know just what is going on; the ghosts look perfectly normal—no rattling chains, no walking through walls—and are quite harmless. After realising they’re neither burglars nor previous tenants, and also that no one else can see them, Pietro decides he just wants them gone from his house.

But it’s not that easy. The ghosts reveal that they are the Apollonio theatre group, which history records disappeared without a trace in 1943. They seem to believe that they are alive, still living in fascist Italy, and that the war still rages. Whatever happened to them in 1943 (and we don’t find out until the very end), one of their number was missing: the great actress Livia Morosini. They want Pietro to find out if she made it out of Italy alive. Without knowing for sure where Livia is, The Apollonio ghosts can’t leave the house.

So for a while, Pietro settles in with his odd roommates. Apart from a tendency to rehearse scenes in the middle of the night, they’re not too bad to live with: they help him sort through his collection of historical trading cards (he’s still looking for some rare ones), try to cheer him up about his disastrous love life, and give him some tips on acting. One of them, a handsome young poet, takes a fancy to Pietro, and I wondered if the two of them would get it on. And then I wondered if that was even possible. What were the rules of the supernatural in this movie? We’d seen the ghosts interact with the physical world, and they thought they were alive, so…

But nothing happened, just as nothing happened between Pietro and his hunky neighbour, whom he met halfway through the movie. And after Pietro takes the ghosts’ advice just a little too far and bombs a really important audition, his self-confidence is completely shattered, and finally starts taking steps to find this Livia Morosini.

He does eventually find her, and discovers the terrible truth: the Apollonio troupe were anti-fascist spies, using their freedom as performers to travel even across borders to help other resistance fighters. In 1943 they were betrayed to the police, ran back to their house where they were killed. Livia survived, only because she was the one who betrayed them—her only passion was acting, she didn’t care about politics or other people’s freedom. Even now, 70 years later, she does not regret her actions.

The Apollonio actors now have their answer; and it seems they’re finally able to live in the present instead of endlessly repeating the past. They ask Pietro what year it is, and he brings them up to speed on how the world has changed. Yes, Hitler is dead. Yes, Communism is dead. And hey, America has a Black president! The movie ends with the ghosts returning to their old theatre—now abandoned—and performing the play they never got to finish 70 years ago.

Where will they go now? And where will Pietro go? We don’t know, and I think that’s just fine. Pietro had two possible love interests in the movie; it’s still possible he’ll get together with the hunky neighbour but I think that, for him, a happy ending just means the possibility of romance. When the movie started he was in a completely one-sided long-distance relationship, ended only when his stalkee confronted him face-to-face and told him to stay away. The truth hurt, but it gave him the chance to move on with his life. His acting career, too. Sure, he flubbed a couple of auditions, but I like to think the ghosts have given more confidence, enabling him to explore great things.

I admit, I identified with him a lot. The shyness, the nerdiness, the big dreams and the lingering insecurities. On the other hand, a part of me also identified with the condescending doctor who at one point thought Pietro was hallucinating and recommended staying away from auditions, night shifts, anything but a simple, unstressful routine. That’s the part of me that wants me to stay in my comfort zone, to stay safe, to not try. Huh. Thanks, movie! I find it’s useful to externalise the voices in your head. Makes it much easier to give them the finger if needed.

The parallels between Pietro and the Apollonio troupe are obvious, but not heavy-handed. The ghosts are far more than echoes, but they are clearly trapped in the past as well as the house, still in the fine clothes they wore for their performance, unable to change and move on. But once they do move on, we share the joy of seeing the modern world through their eyes. For all its troubles, the world is a better place now than it was 70 years ago.

I should also mention Magnifica Presenza‘s beautiful visuals: the ghosts’ old-time fancy evening dress, Pietro’s food, his funky old house. Incidentally, that makes it two for two Italian movies I’ve seen at the VQFF (the first being Diverso da chi in 2011) that feature some serious food porn. Not that I’m complaining.

Magnifica Presenza is a gorgeous movie in every way: the people, the sets, the language, the messages. Sweet and funny, tragic and hopeful, it is a wonderful start to the 25th Queer Film Festival.

When The Sun Comes Out

The last show of the 2013 Vancouver Queer Arts Festival is a lesbian opera—apparently, the first lesbian opera in all of Canada! I hadn’t been planning to go until a friend invited me, and I’m very glad I accepted that invitation.

First, the negative: I admit I’ve never seen opera, lesbian or otherwise (unless you count What’s Opera Doc?, in which case I’m totally an expert on Wagner’s Ring Cycle), and so far I’m not crazy about the genre. Yes, the vocal gymnastics were damn impressive, but all they did for me was to make the dialog hard to understand. If not for the lyrics projected on the back of the stage, I wouldn’t have been able to follow the story except in the most general sense. And it meant that most of the time, I was looking either at the written lyrics or the performers.

Now that that’s out of the way…

The story takes place in an unnamed country with an unnamed but deeply misogynistic religion, where women and men are largely segregated and any hint of homosexuality is punishable by death. (The show notes call the country “Fundamentalia” but that name was never mentioned in the play itself; for what it’s worth, to my ears the characters’ names sound kind of Persian / Central Asian.)

We’re first introduced to Solana, a tough, confident butch lesbian. Originally Canadian, she’s traveled the world, seduced lots of women, but always left before things got serious. This is how she’s always wanted it, but now the unexpected has happened: she’s fallen in love! Before leaving forever, she decides to visit her love’s home for one more night of passion, and perhaps take a memento for the road. Staying is definitely not an option, since Fundamentalia is not friendly to women like her.

Lilah is married, with a daughter, but before meeting Solana she had never known passion or love. When she comes to visit in the night, Lilah tries to send her away, but finds herself unable to resist her feelings. They kiss and settle on the bed, but then Lilah’s husband Javan comes home. He catches the two of them together, and immediately decides to kill both. Lilah manages to calm him down (Solana, more pragmatic, just takes his knife away) and all the secrets come out.

It turns out Javan has had lots of male lovers, about whom Lilah has been keeping quiet for both their sakes. He did find love, many years ago, but his lover was found out and beaten to death; ever since then, Javan has been wracked with grief and survivor guilt, unable to find joy in anything, even his fleeting trysts.

Gradually, the three come to an understanding. Lilah and Javan will keep each other’s secrets, supporting each other as needed (though it looks like the support will be mostly one-way; he’s far more damaged than she is). And Solana? She begs Lilah to come with her, away from this country that will kill her if she steps out of line. She can bring her daughter, raise her in a country where women and queers are free. Javan categorically refuses to give up his daughter, threatening again to kill Solana if she tries it, and Lilah is on his side this time. Because how free can she actually expect to be? Lilah argues that Solana is likely to get tired of her soon, leaving her alone in an unfamiliar country, far from her roots and her family. True, this country is difficult, but it’s not without its joys. Besides, if she stays she can work for real change.

Solana has a difficult choice. Should she stay safe and go home, leaving Lilah with her heart torn in two? Or should she stay, prove to Lilah and herself that she can be more than a love-’em-and-leave-’em woman, put down roots somewhere and make a positive difference in someone else’s world?

In the end, Solana chooses to stay. Not forever, but as long as she can bear life in an oppressive woman-hating country. She also invites Lilah to come to Canada at some point in the future, so she can see other ways of life and make a choice herself. And so the opera ends on a cautiously optimistic note: it’s not clear what the future will bring, but whatever happens we can be sure that Solana, Lilah and Javan will face it together.

When The Sun Comes Out is a love story, but there’s much more to it than that. The love that it portrays is not so much about passion, but about loyalty, openness and mutual support. It is a love that conquers fear, despair and, perhaps someday, an oppressive culture. And there’s no trite Happily Ever After, which I do appreciate. It’s better to bravely face an uncertain future than to relax in an unrealistic cliché.

Speaking of clichés, I also liked how the story steered away from Solana blithely sweeping Lilah off her feet, out of her marriage, her miserable oppressed life and into a bright future in the liberated West. There are no black and white answers; though she doesn’t love him in the same way she loves Solana, Lilah is committed to her husband and their daughter. The same religion that justifies killing queers and uppity women, is the religion that gives her strength. All the things that Solana sees as chains, that she’s been running from her whole adult life, Lilah knows are her roots. Solana’s freedom would be Lilah’s loneliness. Besides, no country is perfect; after all, wasn’t Solana herself kicked out of her parents’ house at a young age?

When The Sun Comes Out is a great milestone, and an amazing experience in its own right, moving and thoughtful, full of nuanced points and surprisingly complex themes. It is a true masterpiece, and I applaud Leslie Uyeda and Rachel Rose for having created it!

Reflection / Refraction

The first Reflection / Refraction took place two years ago as part of the 2011 Queer Film Festival. It was an interesting experiment, and I’m glad they’re continuing it in the Queer Arts Festival.

The format is simple: five short films, curated by Jen Crothers and Kristina Lemieux, were each assigned to one performing artist that then have several months to create a response. The variety of those responses was amazing! Every artist picked up on something different and pulled the orginal film in a new direction.

Galactic Docking Company by Clark Nikolai / response by Ralph Escamillan

You all know Clark Nikolai, right? This short film is a classic, mixing old footage of the NASA control room with footage of model rockets docking, and men docking. Ralph Escamillan’s response is a dance that at first left me cold. He’s a great dancer, and the reverse strip tease—ie: starting out naked then putting on multiple layers of clothing—was a neat twist, but aside from briefly being able to see his penis, I didn’t get what it had to do with docking or rockets.

But as he explained later in the Q&A, his inspiration wasn’t the dicks, but the offbeat humour. His piece was meant to be a subtle satire of his generation: since other youth tend to take their clothes off as much as possible, he decided to do the reverse. Which makes sense, and maybe I was being overly literal in how the performances should go. I guess this is why I’m a Web developer and not a performance artist.

Dance to Miss Chief by Kent Monkman / response by Mette Bach

Kent Monkman’s ultra-catchy film remixes clips from old German Western films with an eye to deconstructing them. Mette Bach’s response is a very moving spoken work piece about her father’s sudden death and learning to dance the Argentine Tango. Apart from the “dance” theme the connection is extremely tenuous—and (I may be paraphrasing a bit) Mette herself admitted that she already had her story to tell even before seeing Miss Chief.

Which makes her piece not really a response to the movie. But you know what? Inspiration comes in all shapes and sizes and if this show gave Mette the impetus to tell her story, I won’t complain.

Herr by John Greyson / response by Tran ÀPus Rex

You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen drag kings performing, either in movies or IRL. It’s quite an eye-opener: the jerky and overly controlled motions, the stylised swaggering, it all adds up to something weird and crazily over-the-top. I wonder, do women see something similar when they look at drag queens? Huh.

Anyhoo, Herr is a hilarious little film about a group of four drag kings that start out peeing in the snow and comparing how far it goes, walk and sit in sync when they’re not dancing, and bully their youngest member (while dancing). I thought Tran ÀPus Rex’s dance / strip piece (to Davie Bowie’s Fame), appearing as he did in a buttoned-up suit and tie, was just a continuation of that… but then it went in unexpected directions. Because underneath the suit? bright spandex tights and funky jewelry. And inside the plain leather briefcase? a gold lamé purse. I’m not sure what kind of symbolism I should read into that, but it was startling and awesome fun.

The Bus Pass by Narissa Lee / response by Cris Derksen

The Bus Pass is a cute and sweet movie of a woman silently pining for another woman on the bus, almost working up the courage to get her number… and then the other woman makes the first move, writing her number on her bus pass. Cris Derksen’s response is basically to remix and loop bits of the film (audio and video) while playing an electric cello. Catchy and simple. No extra story, no extra meaning. Sometimes that’s all you need.

The Hawker by Elisha Lim and Coco Riot / response by David C. Jones

A very short heartwarming film about trans visibility and community is refracted by David C. Jones into a wordless piece that’s mostly (I think) about hiding and then choosing not to hide. I missed some of the details of the story because, well, I do better with words and a clear narrative. But David pulled off a great performance, especially since apparently this was the first time he tried something without spoken words. Kudos.

My 2013 Queer Film Fest schedule

Eleven days of queer culture, oh yeah!

Thursday, August 15

Not a lot of choice, right? There’s only the Opening Gala to go to.

Final choice: Magnificent Presence / Magnifica Presenza

Friday, August 16

Reaching for the Moon looks really good, but so does Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?. Seeing Moon means I’ll have to see Margarita for the early show, which I’m not really feeling, because there’s no way I can get to SFU from International Village in time. Or… can I? No, probably not. I want to see Beyond the Walls, and though it’s also playing on Thursday, I’d have to miss the Centrepiece Gala which I really, really don’t want to do. Hmmm… Lesbian artistic drama, or comedy and karaoke? Decisions, decisions.

Final choice: Beyond the Walls / Hors les murs & Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

Saturday, August 17

~~Sadly I’ll only have time to see the early-early show, since I’ve got a barbecue to go to. On the bright side, from the trailer it looks like a great one!~~
NOPE I’ll be at WordCamp Vancouver all day and then the BBQ. No movies for me!

Final choice: ~~R/EVOLVE~~ none

Sunday, August 18

A retrospective on Vancouver’s queer cinema scene vs. a hard-hitting documentary on queer refugees coming to Canada? That’s a tough one… For now I’m in a history kind of mood, though I reserve the right to change my mind later. I have no particular preference re: the late shows.

Final choice: Who Are We, Cinema? & In-between Days / Dui Dhuranir Golpo

Monday, August 19

To be honest, all this day’s movies look quite good. I could just flip a coin and I think I’d be happy. One the one hand, I could watch The Outs anytime… on the other hand, the creator will be present for discussion. On the gripping hand, I’d kind of rather see over-the-top Bollywood than sad Korean movies. Okay… for now, it’s heartwarming family stuff and Bollywood. Plus, those movies will end earlier, which is an important consideration.

Final choice: Mama Rainbow & Queens! A Destiny of Dance

Tuesday, August 20

Dammit, I really want to see Head of the Class, but I also really want to see some vintage silent porn with live musical accompaniment! Let’s see, what are the late shows? Hmmm… it’s either cosplay or sexy shorts… All right, I guess it’s a sexy evening for me!

Final choice: Lot in Sodom + Vintage Queer Porn & Bawdy Body Shorts

Wednesday, August 21

The VGVA is sponsoring Meet the Glamcocks, so I really should go. The other choice is the story of Bishop Gene Robinson, which to be honest doesn’t grab me all that much. Glamcocks it is, then! Since I’m at International Village, that leaves just one option for the early show. Fortunately it looks like a good one!

Final choice: Camp Beaverton & Meet the Glamcocks

Thursday, August 22

Centrepiece Gala! Bollywood! Oh yeah. And for the late show, the story of an all-female 80’s punk band? Sure, works for me.

Final choice: Chitrangada: The Crowning Wish & She Said Boom

Friday, August 23

I’m seeing The Coast is Queer, no question. So if I’m at the Rio, that means the early show is G.B.F. which looks like a lot of fun and hey, works out pretty well, since I’ll miss it on Wednesday!

Final choice: G.B.F. & The Coast is Queer

Saturday, August 24

I’ll miss In the Name of‘s first showing on the 17th (that darn BBQ), so here’s my second chance. Will I be able to make it down to the Rio in time for Who’s Afraid of Vagina Wolf? I hope so, I’m not really feeling Bwakaw. But I also have a slight preference for I Do over Valencia. Or I could pace myself and not see a third movie. But where’s the fun in that?

EDIT: the more I think about it, the more I’m leaning towards Bwakaw instead of Who’s Afraid of Vagina Wolf?. Plus I won’t need to schlep my ass across town, and I’ll get to see I Do. So here’s my updated schedule:

Final choice: In the Name of / W Imie & Bwakaw & I Do

Sunday, August 25

Again, only one movie to see!

Final choice: Frauensee

The Secret Doctrine

Last night I went to see The Secret Doctrine, a play about the 19th century mystic, cult leader and huckster Madame Helena Blavatsky. It is directed by Ines Buchli and shown at the SFU Woodward’s Fei and Milton Wong Experimental Theatre. It’s a great play, with some very impressive sound and visual effects, and though condensed and somewhat fictionalised, it’s a fascinating summary of Madame Blavatsky at her peak—the conjuring tricks, the philosophy, the intelligence and charisma.

Last night I went to see The Secret Doctrine, a play about the 19th century mystic, cult leader and huckster Madame Helena Blavatsky. It is directed by Ines Buchli and shown at the SFU Woodward’s Fei and Milton Wong Experimental Theatre. It’s a great play, with some very impressive sound and visual effects, and though condensed and somewhat fictionalised, it’s a fascinating look at Madame Blavatsky at her peak—the conjuring tricks, the philosophy, the intelligence and charisma.

The other main character is Richard Hodgson; historically, he was an Australian-born lawyer sent by the Society for Psychical Research to do a report on Blavatsky. Though he concluded she was a fraud, he did believe in paranormal phenomena. The play made him a Canadian-born physicist working on electromagnetic theory. His first scene shows him doing work related to the Michelson-Morley experiment, trying vainly to prove the existence of the luminiferous aether. He is also a strong skeptic, pooh-poohing his colleague’s latching on to Blavatsky’s teachings. This Hodgson traveled of his own volition to India to live in Madame’s compound, mostly to keep a promise to his dead colleague to give her a fair chance. He falls under her spell a little, but eventually snaps out of it and denounces Blavatsky to the SPR.

Making Hodgson a scientist was an interesting choice, because while the story is centred on Blavatsky and Hodgson, it’s really about the 19th Century as a whole: an age struggling towards reason, trying to build an understanding of the universe based on science instead of faith. Darwin killed God, so they said, or at least made Him unnecessary, but many people were still hungry for miracles and revelation. Add to that a more connected world enabling increased contact with other cultures, and it made for a strange and potent mix. Blavatsky’s Theosophy borrowed from Hinduism and Buddhism and various mystery religions, but also the language of science, and tried to connect all of them into a sort of Grand Unified Spiritual Theory.

In the play, some of the Mahatmas’ revelations hinted very strongly at Special Relativity and Quantum Mechanics, both theories still a couple decades away. More poetic license, I guess, especially since they end up guiding Hodgson’s research towards brilliant new discoveries upon his return to London. But here’s a thought: yes, Theosophy was a gobbledigook mish-mash of conflicting philosophies and faiths, claiming to deep and ancient truth but not delivering. However: it inspired scientists. It apparently inspired Einstein, who was said to own a copy of Blavatsky’s book The Secret Doctrine. That may or may not be true but if it is, it’s not really that surprising; isn’t one of his most famous quotes that “Imagination is more important than knowledge”? Atheist though he was, I always found Einstein to have a little bit of the mystical about him.

So you could look at Theosophy and similar cults as a kind of Victorian proto-science-fiction, collections of narratives, tropes and memes centered (to varying degrees) around science and scientific knowledge, guiding practitioners to build on them and take them to the next level. We take it for granted now, but science as a institution and a culture was still very new. The scientists and engineers who got men on the Moon were inspired by old-time sci-fi pulps—Buck Rogers and Flash Gordon and Captain Future; those writers and the scientists of their time owe much to Jules Verne and H.G. Wells; but where did Victorian scientists find their inspiration? From what was there: esoteric ecumenical philosophies, outdated (to us) and rather mystical beliefs about energy and life and electricity/magnetism, and Enlightenment-friendly organised religions. I guess inspiration is where you find it. And beliefs don’t have to be true to be inspirational.

It’s possible I’m overanalysing this. That’s okay, though. I expected The Secret Doctrine to just be a critique of a fraud and/or the weird pseudo-scientific philosophies she preached, but it gave me a lot of food for thought. I love when that happens!

Northern Voice 2013, epilogue: You Are Very Star

Friday June 14^th was the premiere of the experimental play You Are Very Star. It took place at the HR MacMillan Space Centre, and they offered Northern Voice Attendees half off on their tickets. Deal!

It’s an odd mindfuck of a play, with themes of change and progress, religion, faith and the desire for transcendance. It wasn’t perfect (the interactive elements needed some work) but made for an enjoyable and mind-expanding evening.

Friday June 14^th was the premiere of the experimental play You Are Very Star, created by Kevin Kerr and Craig Erickson, and directed by David Hudgins. It took place at the HR MacMillan Space Centre, and they offered Northern Voice Attendees half off on their tickets. Deal!

It’s an odd mindfuck of a play, with themes of change, progress, faith and transcendance. It wasn’t perfect (the interactive elements needed some work) but made for an enjoyable and mind-expanding evening. This review is going to be a little incomplete because it’s been two weeks and I can’t find the program anymore, so I can’t actually name the characters. I’m sure I’ve forgotten some other details.

The play is divided in 3 loosely connected acts, taking place in 1968, 2013 and 2048.

The first act, “Orbiting the Cusp of Greatness,” begins/ends in the Space Centre (yes, where we physically are) on December 21st, 1968, the night Apollo 8 went up. It was a time of turmoil and change, a time when people questioned everything. It follows backwards (interesting choice there!) a UBC Literature professor as he loses his mind, reinvents himself as a cult leader and attempts to achieve apotheosis with his small group of ex-student followers. And fails, because an ex-colleague pulls the plug on the TV so they miss the Apollo launch.

The second act does not take place on stage with actors; the audience are the actors. To prime us for the future and transcendence, we have to go through ten stations scattered around the Space Centre and participate in specific activities. One of the stations is a laptop running a Skype conversation with a sweet older lady. You sit down in front of it, tell her your age, and she gives you a brief story about what her life was like at that age. It invited us to look back and look forward: what kind of changes will we see when we’re her age?

Unfortunately, with a couple of exceptions this second act didn’t work so well. There were just too many people and even though everybody got a map with a different order for the stations, in practice there were usually long lines at every one. Too bad: it was a bold experiment in immersive theatre.

In the third act, “Transcendance,” a small group of Augmented humans—mentally connected through an advanced network, able to multitask like you wouldn’t believe and interface directly with technology—are anxiously waiting for “Neil”, their creator (played by Michael Rinaldi, who played the cult leader professor in the first act) to wake up and take them all to the next level, a perfect transcendental machine state that will usher in a brand new age for them. Too bad for the rest of the Earth, which is suffering from terrible climate change and widespread extinction. The story is partly narrated through one Augment, a young woman who’s decided to dictate a journal the old-fashioned way, with words one after the other.

Things heat up when Neil’s ex-lover (a baseline human) decides to visit him after many, many years. Wacky intercultural hijinks ensue with the young woman narrator—though they both speak in English words, they live in totally different worlds and can’t really relate to each other. She meets Neil, speaks to him briefly, and leaves. He wakes up, and in doing so disconnects himself from the worldwide Augment network, crashing it and bringing all his creatures down to normal.

The action eventually moves to the Space Centre again where… things happen. Sorry, I can’t be any more specific than that. My memories are a too hazy, and I don’t think I could do the scenes justice. Suffice to say, I think the Augments achieve transcendance, though not quite in the way they expect. And the audience gets to leave with their minds nicely scrambled.

So… my first thought was, this is the first time I’ve ever seen the Singularity and transhumanism explored on the stage! These are big sci-fi topics about the future of humankind and what it means to be human, and boy was it a trip!

The neatest twist about these Augments is that they’re not really that evolved. They’re mostly portrayed as scattered time-wasters, using their vast fractured minds to play games and live in mental simulations. For all their powers, they’re still immature and weird and creepy and idolise their creator, desiring transcendance though they don’t even understand what it means. They’re still human, and I don’t know if that’s depressing or hilarious. I guess it all depends on how you look at it. The Augments’ lives are determined by their choices, as ours are, after all.

The choice to have the 1968 segment unroll backwards is an intriguing one. Here’s how I read it: the past and future are symmetrical, both centered on the present, which just moves forward moment by moment. It’s in the present that we remember the past and create the future. And it’s up to us to be present, to learn the right lessons and create the right things.

Lastly, it’s a given that transcendental events are by definition impossible to explain or even show. I’ve complained about that before but this time it didn’t feel like a copout. I feel like I’ve been touched by something weird and wonderful. Kudos to The Electric Company for putting together a unique and brilliant experience!

Northern Voice 2013, Part 3: Tools of the Trade

A couple of talks about social media used not to change your life or tell stories, but for more specific purposes.

Darren Barefoot: Living the Quantified Life

Darren started out with a personal anecdote, about having a box of his old comics stolen from his storage locker. Fortunately he’d made an obsessively detailed spreadsheet of every comic he had, so insurance was not a problem. Came out really well! That was one early reward the quantified life.

Using technology to monitor and share your input, life and performance has become possible thanks to smaller sensors, computers you can carry with you, omnipresent social media, and the cloud for aggregating and storing. Darren made the distinction between self-documentation such as blogging, and self-quantification, which is more about numbers and the aggregates thereof. There’s also passive vs. active. For example, the Nike Fuel Band (should I add a ™?) monitors your heart rate and steps taken without any input from you. Just wear it and away you go.

Why would you do this? Well, there’s the old saying: “The unexamined life is not worth living”. Measuring your current status and your progress can be a powerful motivator to change some things about your life, and focus on what’s needed. On the other hand, you could be missing the forest for the trees, either looking at the wrong things, or spending so much time measuring and aggregating that you never get around to doing.

It all comes down to what’s best for you. Personally, I use two tools: a fitness app that conveniently lets me record my weight, workouts and food intake (including calories and protein); and Toggl, which lets me record my time.

Brad Ovenell-Carter: Twitter As A Note Taking Tool

Brad Ovenell-Carter spoke about his project to use Twitter as a note-taking and collaborative communication tool in his Grade 11 Philosophy class. Students get to communicate with each other and the teacher during or outside of class (using a particular hashtag to define the class’s online space), but unlike e.g. Facebook, all their conversations are 100% public. Since other adults are part of the digital space, they get to model good online behaviour.

In addition to Twitter, Ovenell-Carter’s class is divided into small discussion groups where students rotate through specific roles: note-takers take notes (obviously), researchers find answers to specific questions (if I remember right, they are the only ones who get to use the wider WWW during class), and so on. Students help each other out, which leaves the teacher free to do more one-on-one coaching. A win all around, it seems.

An important point is that students tweet under their own names: not only is this to keep them accountable, but they’re already building their online brands!

Now, this is a Philosophy class in a private school. Not all subjects are so discussion-heavy vs. information-heavy, so Twitter might not be so useful. Furthermore, the question of access to technology is an important one: not all public school students have a computer that’s all their own and that they can use for Twitter. All important questions, to be sure. Still, it’s a fascinating look at how education will change in the coming years and decades.

Northern Voice 2013, Part 1: We’re on a Journey

Another amazing Northern Voice conference, this time at the HR MacMillan Space Centre. An excellent venue, and conference-goers got to visit the Museum of Vancouver for free! As a bonus, a really cool avant-garde play, which I will totally be blogging about.

Just like last year I’m writing several Northern Voice posts, each grouping related talks together.

Mark Blevis and Bob Goyetche: Podcasters Across Borders

The morning keynote speech by Mark Blevis and Bob Goyetche, recounted the history of Podcasters Across Borders from its first year in 2006, until they chose to close it down in 2012.

It was a fascinating story. I’d never heard of PAB before, not knowing anything about the podcasting scene, but I could see the parallels between it and Northern Voice. The first few years—aka the “Podeozoic Era” were apparently focused on the technology. Producing audio, editing, all the nitty-gritty details. 2009 was the transition year, named the “Jowisic Era” after Jowi Taylor, creator of the Six String Nation guitar; from then on (the “Creatious Era”, 2010–2012) the focus was much more on creativity and building community. (I’ve noticed this trend in NV as well.)

It was a great look at two very passionate people who created “a conference about journeys”, and the lessons they learned along the way:

About values: you must have values and be committed to them. They’re much more than goals; goals will tell you what you’re trying to achieve, but not why, nor how you got to where you are in the first place.
How to nurture creative spaces: for instance, having only a single track, to strengthen bonds between attendees. And they experimented with room layouts, to make the talks a bit more intimate. In 2010 they moved the conference to the National Arts Centre in Ottawa from Kingston, which apparently gave the creatives the upper hand and scared off all the marketing people.
Choose to grow. “Look beyond the fishbowl” and don’t be afraid to experiment. You may lose attendees who expect the same things year after year, but you’ll pick up others who will grow with you.
Trust yourself, your instinct and your passions. A strong and safe creative space needs curators, and this was something you couldn’t organise by committee. Apparently in any arguments they had, whoever was most passionate won.

And then PAB ended, because they wanted to move forward to other projects; to do that, they had to close that chapter of their lives.

Mike Vardy: Life Changing Blogging

Okay, so this is the second slot, and already another talk about journeys? I’m sensing a theme…

Not that I’m complaining. I love listening to Mike Vardy, his nerdy shout-outs, the inspirational story of his life. From Costco employee out east, to Costco employee in PoCo, to comic, podcaster, writer and productivyist, which is totally a word now.

My take-aways:

You have to do, not try. Yes, I know Yoda said if first, but it bears repeating. If you’re going to go for something, you have to really commit to it, not just half-ass it and tell yourself that was good enough when/if it fails.
You have to work to live, not live to work. The much more laid-back West Coast lifestyle was a bit of a culture shock to him, where employees would call in sick because the weather was too nice to work. Your job is there to let you lead a fulfilling life.
Sometimes you have to move on. See the PAB story above. There were some projects he had to let go, in order to start something else. Because there’s no such thing as multitasking. The important thing for creatives is to be open to these kinds of shifts.
But if you focus, you can achieve amazing things.
You have to keep your integrity and care about your reputation. He doesn’t do infomercials, doesn’t shill, and in the past he quit a lifehacking site (I forget which) because his boss wanted him to write about recipes. Something about how to arrange the lettuce and the buns in a hamburger? It sounded pretty inane, anyway.

John Biehler: How Blogging Changed My Life

This is the story of John Biehler’s adventures in the last couple years since he blogged for the 2010 Olympics and then the Paralympics: he took 6 weeks off work and blogged the hell out the events. Then got invited up to the Yukon. Then Chevy offered him an electric car to drive to SXSW in; then, a trip to Alaska…

The focus here was different than Mike’s speech. It’s not so much about a lifelong journey from here to there, but more about choices that changed his life very quickly.

The main take-away for me is: seize the day. I haven’t done enough of that so far, and I need to step up my game. And also, that personal integrity doesn’t have to stop you from having fun.

Last take-away: 3D printing is fucking awesome. That’s his latest interest, and he brought a couple of his creations for us to gawk at. The future is here!