The film is inspired and based on a short children’s book by Maurice Sendak. My lady friend and I snuck into the bookstore beside the cinema to read the book before watching movie. And I’m glad we did.

Despite how short the book is, and how few sentences there are. (I believe the book is nine sentences long.) The movie does a fantastic job of capturing, not only the imagery and style, but even some of the explicit moments drawn in the book.

The costumes and fx are delightful. I fell into the world, and very rarely did I pause to think about the mechanics of making such a film. (This is very rare for me.) My only slip up was watching the boy climb a rock cliff, where we very clearly only saw the back of his head. My inner-moron gleefully calls (silently) “Body double!” To which my inner bully gives the inner-moron an elbow, “Of course it is. You think they’d have a child climb that in a furry costume? Idiot.”

The photography did an excellent job of eavesdropping on this world and these characters. This is shaky cam well done. I felt like I was running through the trees. I felt like a dirt clod could explode into the camera at any moment. I felt like I was being told the story by the little boy, (who is an exceptional story teller, in his own rank.)

My one gripe with the movie was that I felt the soundscape suffered a distinct lack of imagination. In a story of enormous costumes and gorgeous landscapes, where anything can happen… I found the acoustic environment to be very lackluster. The most prominent sound of the movie (for me) was the breathing and wheezing of the monsters. Very cool. Very humanizing… but… I really would have liked to hear a bit more fantastical wilderness.

The soundtrack is great. Karen O and the Kids made some really playful, youthful songs. There were moments where the music gave me shivers. Still does, listening to the top of All Is Love (embedded below). I just would have liked a stronger acousmatic description of the world.

As an aside, I was realizing that I know very little about audio dynamic compression in the cinema (particularly relevant to my snobby ears bellowing for more sound art).

I typically find the cinema very LOUD, and the stereo field very narrow. Can anyone tell me if cinemas add additional dynamic compression? Is a DVD or Bluray more or less squashed than the film?

Ok, I don’t usually do this, but….

Some advice for directors:

1. Directing is mostly observation plus subtraction
2. Stay out of the actors’ way mostly. But if you do intervene, do so with clarity and conviction
3. Don’t let the designs, lighting, and other tech stuff submerge your production. Less is best, unless you are Robert Wilson
4. You need to make a group, no matter how brief the rehearsal period. So you need to have a coherent warmup and exercise program. Sports are a good model: its mostly continuous training.
5. No one is too old or too good not to need continuous training.
6. Share yourself, not just ideas.
7. Draw clear boundaries, when the work is “on” when the work is “off”. The principal of the sideline, the bench, the offtime. The intensity of the ontime.
8. Make the whole thing good enough so that you show the audience only 25% of what you could show them.

Good luck!

rs

It will be my third time seeing Metric, still I couldn’t be more excited. Call me a true fan. The first time I saw them was at Osheaga 2008 (Thank you, Steve Cohen, and CHOM.) But at that point in my life, I wasn’t really paying attention to what they were doing. I didn’t know the songs. Metaphorically (and literally) I was a huge grassy field away from appreciating Metric.

Last December, Brandon was able to pull strings and get some VIP tickets to see Metric play at the Sound Academy. Wow. I fell in love with music, the lyrics, the band, and Emily Haines. I’ve been listening to a TONNE of Metric ever since. Their songs helped me keep going.

A symbolic recap of the past 12 months of my life through Metric videos.

Live It Out

Help I’m Alive

Calculation Theme

The Twist

Gimme Sympathy

My earliest memories of learning music are of Saturday mornings spent with a circle of children, in the living room of a very pleasant, British lady. Our parents were in the sitting room next door, socializing with coffee and tea, while we kids were taught in the Kodály tradition. I remember singing solfège. I remember poppy seed muffins and warm water in paper cups. I remember learning to play the recorder, la flûte à bec. I remember being told that this particular song had been written by King Richard the Lionheart while he was imprisoned in the Crusades. A lovely story of questionable validity, but it was enough to motivate this young boy to internalize the soft melody. Put a recorder in my hands, and I can still grab onto pieces of the music I learned twenty years ago. My fingers remember that choreography.

I remember that as a child at summer camp, the best times were around the campfire. There was a joyful unpredictability to the craziness and fun. Silly songs with sillier actions were sung while the flames leapt high. We held hands and saluted the day by singing Taps. I wanted the campfire to go on forever, for my fears lurked just there after. Homesickness, and trying to fall asleep in a strange bed, in a strange cabin, while shadows made strange, snoring sounds.

A few years later, I had outgrown those fears and it was me dancing like a monkey around the fire. It was me playing guitar and singing in the dark, soothing my cabin of boys to sleep. I would listen for the slowing sound of their breathing before I could put myself to rest. Even the toughest tyke would look forward to their rustic lullabies.

I learned to play guitar in high school. I was the singer in a cover band that played school assemblies and battle of the bands. Our greatest gig was following Gordon Lightfoot at the Mariposa Folk Festival (which included a rendition of Cracker’s Teen Angst. Although, my favorite memory would be covering Alice Cooper’s “School’s Out” at the final assembly of my graduating year. The teachers standing at the back appreciated it more than the juniors in the audience. I could feel the age gap. Myself on the older side.

I never took guitar lessons; I simply hung out with guitarists who played better than me: Dave, Matt, Dan and Brandon. I would follow along, ask questions, and put it together piece by piece. My musical foundation is in playing by ear, jamming when I don’t know the tune, the chords, the key. I spent countless hours and several years writing and recording with Brandon, Dean, Andrew and Brent. I learned to listen, absorb and react. I learned not to fear (or force) the moment. These lessons shaped the person I have become, above and beyond how I create music.

Children deserve the respect of being listened to.
Authentic interaction is a two-way street.

While studying theatre at Queen’s University, I had the opportunity to write music for a department major production which I was acting in. This was an eye opening, ear-opening experience. As an actor, I was actively present throughout the development process. “The Composer” was gifted with a perspective to write music from within the story world. I learned the power of sound to affect the body. A scene rehearsed with music would have an energy that lacked when run unaccompanied. Music is a powerful tool to access emotions and evoke change. Since then, I am moved to create beautiful sounds, that underscore the positivity of this amazing world we live in.

After Queen’s, I was privileged to perform for children across Canada with Touring Players Theatre. I was one of 4 actors in a production called “A World of Fairy Tales.” I played the green characters: the frog prince, the troll under the billy goats’ bridge, an ogre and a dragon. We spent four months touring Ontario, followed by four months playing in theatres coast to coast. I am thrilled to have been a part of so many children’s first theatrical experience. And this energy kept me fresh throughout the run. 230+ performances later: I learned a thing or two about holding children’s attention, being grounded in the present, and creating unique, joyful moments. I learned how to use my voice and body language to engage with the rhythm and energy of an audience.

I delved deeper into sound design and composition at Concordia University and earned a bachelor of Fine Arts in Electroacoustics. Electro-acousti-what now? Think: audio-engineer-composer (in the literal) or sound-painter/sculptor (in the abstract). I was exposed to a variety of experimental composers and techniques, but my own work consistently floated back to sculpting the human voice. I am entranced with organic, natural sounds. I seek to create music with story, character, push & pull. My imagination soars at the potential for new expressions of the human condition, propelled by the dancing 1s and 0s of digital media.

I left Montréal in the fall of 2008, and spent several months travelling, visiting family in New Zealand. It was a time of personal reflection. January of 2009, a brainstorming exercise helped me to point my compass and decipher my life’s purpose:

To set myself a flame with the joy and pain of Life, Love and Loss,
and to spread that flame outward, banishing shadows, teaching the world
to sing together in harmony and dance to the rhythms of Peace.

I love to compose and produce music, and I will continue to for the rest of my life. I need more than an office job to finance my creative habit. I need to place myself somewhere I can fulfill my life purpose, help others grow (using music as one avenue), and support myself and my future family. Teaching children creative expression through music and movement aligns perfectly with the fire burning inside me.

It is with great joy that I recently accepted a position to train and become a Music Teacher with Rainbow Songs Inc. Music is an integral part of my life; it is an honor to share the gift of music with precious, little ones and their parents.

In February, I read this article, Things, Chains, and Changing the Fucking World and fell madly in respect for Naomi Dunford of IttyBiz.com. I’ve been reading her blog ever since. (And following her on Twitter.)

A few weeks ago, she wrote a post about feeling powerless when her electricity got shut off (due to negligent former tenants), and the gut-wrenching experience of having to explain to her 3 year old son why there was no power and that why no repairman wanted to come fix them on a long weekend.

This story really moved me. I know from her blog that Naomi recently relocated to Toronto. I was looking for work and had plenty of time on my hands. I wrote an email, explained who I was, that I had plenty of experience working with kids, that I’m new to Toronto, and looking for meaningful things to do. “Can I help?” I sent this to Naomi’s assistant. Two weeks passed and I didn’t hear back.

Then I saw Naomi’s Twitter post “Just got fired from 2nd potential daycare w/o even meeting us. Can somebody please come to my house and be a nanny? Or intern?”

I replied, “Seriously? I applied for that position 2 weeks ago. I’ll hop on the TTC and be there this afternoon.” “Nanny and Intern.”

Of course, she thought I was kidding. “Please tell me you’re joking. Because if you’re not, that means somehow I missed that email, which is a tragedy.”

I direct messaged her for the appropriate address, and resent my email. It turns out the assistant I sent it to no longer works for her, and my email was lost in limbo.

That afternoon we spoke on the phone for an hour, and then that evening we met at a Starbucks and talked further. Later that week, I met the little man of her life, and now he and I hang out every afternoon. (Did I mention he is gluten-free, lactose intolerant, and irresistibly adorable? We’ve got ALL KINDS of things in common.)

A large part of Naomi’s business involves digital audio: she delivers teleconferences and creates audio books. Lucky me, there was a vacancy on her team for an audio wizard. Fortune smiles on us both. I’ve been hired to do things I love: play with/mentor the little guy and make her audio sound magical. She netted herself a nanny/audio-engineer/jingle-writer. That’s quite a mess to put on my office door, so we’ve settled on the title VP of Media.

I still feel like I don’t completely get Twitter. The way people buzz about it, I feel like there must be something I’m missing. But after this story, I can attest that it does provide for new ways to connect and communicate. In my situation, it got me an interview and a job with a blogger I have tremendous respect for.

If you don’t believe me, here is Naomi’s version of our awesome story.

The music project with Andrea is marching along melifluously. With a bit of run around from Long & Mcquade, we have secured a stage piano. We’re writing and recording here, @Las Studio. I really believe in this music. I cannot wait until I can share it with you.

Joan and Isaac of Little Foot Long Foot have invited me to play in “Isaac and Julian’s Birthday Concert.” From what I’ve been told, it’s a lot like Players, without the sketch comedy. (Or at least without the scripted sketch comedy.) I think I’ll be playing guitar on “No Cars Go,” and a Cake tune. And then adding some bleeps and bloops to a Rage song, and a DFA 1974 song. Awesomeness. I can’t wait. That’s going down September 26, I’ll let you know where – when I know where.

Julie and I had a great weekend at Virgin Festival Ontario. (Thank you for the birthday music festival, pretty lady.) Nine Inch Nails were everything I could have hoped for. Hands down the best lighting design I’ve ever seen at a rock concert. (And this is their “stripped down” tour.) I’m so glad I caught them. And it was great to catch Plants and Animals. I had a quick chat with Warren before I scurried off to the pit for NIN. Ridiculous.

This weekend, I’m heading to Orillia to visit my parents. They’re leaving soon for New Zealand for the birth of my nephew! Baby baby baby!

Our house is awesome. 100% less centipedes. 100% more BBQ everything. Just the right number of shoes. And I think I see a new coffee machine on the horizon. This is mostly exciting for me, as I’m the only coffee drinker who lives here. (Julie drinks Tim’s French Vanilla. I’m pretty sure I can suck her in if I can secure some Torani Almond Rocca.) Speaking of almonds, we LOVE this bulk food store.

If I owe you money (or almonds) – good news: we can be friends again!

I’m going back to work and I couldn’t be happier.
I look forward to waking up every day.

Why don’t I blog more? It’s not just about time. It’s not because I don’t have ideas to write about.

It’s because I’m afraid that I must be completely honest and authentic. If I write anything about myself, it must be whatever I am most insecure about. As though anything less would be dishonest to the vulnerabilities I am feeling at press time.

Sometimes I feel frozen at gunpoint. (A gun made of my index finger, with thumb in the air.)

I mentioned this to Juju, her response already forming in my mind. She’ll probably tell me that it’s my blog, and I can write about anything, it doesn’t have to be SPECIFICALLY my insecurities. Nope. Not what she said.

“What if that’s exactly what the people reading your blog need to hear?”

She likes to kick me in the pants. I remind myself that my strengths as an actor were always in sharing my vulnerabilities. So what am I feeling so gosh-darned vulnerable about?

Hum…. When I stop. Turn around. And look the gunman in the eye… he just laughs and tells me I’m not doing so bad. He’s a real kidder.

The worst of it: I’m still searching for meaningful employment.

Mais, voyons! That doesn’t make me exceptional. Lots of people are still looking for “that thing you were put on this planet to do.”

I think I’ve found it. Work that isn’t work. That makes me want to leap out of bed. That makes me lose track of time, and giggle with how fortunate one would be to get paid to do that. I’m waiting to find out if we’re a match for each other. This job and I, that is.

Sallie was kind enough to write and ask how my goals were progressing. And with the exception of the ongoing job search, I’m not doing so badly.

My studio is set up. For the first time in a long time, I feel I have a home. My books, my gear, my old journals are all within reach.

I am collaborating on an album with an old friend. The project is coming along incredibly well, (and quickly!) We’ve been writing and recordings here, @Las Studio (the nickname for my little home studio – on Atlas Ave). I’ll have more to talk about this soon.

It’s been a crazy summer, meeting the very large family of my lady friend. So many August birthdays. I’m learning to party like I’m Portueguese.

This weekend we’re going to the Virgin Music Fest. I’m very excited to see Nine Inch Nails, as well as my old friend Warren Spicer from Plants and Animals. And I won’t turn down the chance to catch Sloan, Grizzly Bear, Franz Ferdinand and Our Lady Peace.

Oh! And it was my birthday! Ridiculous. Every day that passes, I’m one day wiser, and one day closer… to you coming over for a bbq. Seriously. Come on over.

Photo by Arenamontanus

Deepak Chopra tweets:

Ever Love’s chevalier, I was quick to take a defensive stance. “Falling in love is more than just a product of the needy!” I clench my fists.

I feel socially conditioned to think that fulfilling needs is somehow debasing. Needy people are obnoxious or weak. I feel weak and obnoxious when I am being overly needy.

The more I thought about it, the more I came around to this idea. We DO have needs, although it is often socially discouraged to admit it.

If a lover does not fulfill your needs (and visa versa: you fulfilling your lover’s needs) – what is the point in your relationship? What value are you exchanging?

Throughout life, our needs change. The hope in a lifelong partnership would be that as your lover’s needs grow, so too does your ability to fulfill them.

I acknowledge additional social needs extra-curricular to an intimate relationship: friendship, support, etc. As do I acknowledge that there are some needs that must be self-fulfilled. (I think this is where the negative connotation of needy originates.) Needy as an insult equals lazy regarding your self-fulfillment, expectant of outside help.

Is it “strong” to feel exempt from the need for an intimate partner?

[I'm not sure how to end this stream of thought. Logically, by hitting "Publish." I'll reserve future thoughts for future posts.]

July 3rd: Longest Day of my Life

Seriously. I crossed back over the international date line and regained that day I lost travelling to New Zealand. Sadly, I was in no shape to make use of it. A 12 hour flight would be significantly more palatable if I could charge my laptop. And, next time I fly, I’ll take the aisle. Window seats are pretty, but being able to pee without having to wake/crawl across strangers, is bliss would have been bliss.

Goodbye Dear Kiwi Friends

I’m sad to say goodbye to all of the awesome friends I met. Come to Canada! We can do an afternoon roadtrip, and I’ll show you around this little island of ours.

I’m very sad to be leaving my sister Wendy. Every day that passes, she gets a bit more pregnant. I’m so excited for her and Shane. Wish I could be there to give my little nephew a high five. Or even just let him goober on me. I’d be fine with that. Sigh. The goobering will have to be acted out via skype. And I will still love every second of it.

Thank you so much, to Wendy and Shane for letting me be a part of their home. I know that I will look back on my time in New Zealand as a turning point in my life. And I am so grateful for their generosity and hospitality. Wendy, hopefully someday, you’ll be able to eat nachos again. But never without thinking of me.

Hello Tarano

Katherine liked to tease how I pronounced Toronto. She was just extracting the urine, so to speak.

It was so good to see my things! How materialistic, I know, but I missed my books, my kitchen knives, my speakers. I missed my Seagull.

I’m currently residing at the Splash’N Manor. Big thanks to Splash’N Boots for leaving me the keys to the castle while they’re touring western Canada. This house is beautiful and lovely. And I get along really well with Mr. Squeaks, the resident mouse. (Sorry Nick, he offered me TWO bottles of wine if I were to instead k&emdash;… nothing, nevermind. I’ve said too much.)

It’s strange to be back in my old neighborhood. It’s quite a coincidence that I find myself living a 10 minute walk away from my old apartment (when I first moved to Toronto in the summer of 2004) The parallels between my life then and now, are amusing and uncanny. I’m waiting on the equivalent of my Touring Players gig. “Here, Joel. I’ll pay you well; you go perform across the country for kids for 8 months. Sound good? Good.”

I’m loving that I can’t see my breath when I wake up in the morning. (That’s a dig at Chrchrch, not my old Vauaghan Road apt.)

Tick, tock. Trying to figure out what color my parachute is. And whether I can afford the deluxe harness, or if I’ll have to make do with the cheapo straps that bite into your flesh. (One might wonder what the heck I was doing in NZ, if not contemplating the color of my parachute. Indeed, I was, but nothing hammers a point home like looming starvation and/or getting your thumbs broken by student loan collection agencies.)

This Week’s New Music

I’ve been listening to the awesome glitchy music-scapes of ro, who has just released the LP seemeebeemin. Free download.

It renders my fax machine incredibly amorous. Thanks to Stretta for bringing this to my attention.

Here is a video of ro, hard at work with a monome (or two).

Free download of the full album seemeebeemin by ro.

(My favorite place for a list is the back of a recycled envelope. John, I count my blessings for knowing you.)

Betimes, I write lists of things I wish to have:

• a new computer
• software
• audio gear
• a “relevant” blog
• a band
• an album
• a car
• a good job
• a family
• a cottage

In 2 days, I’ll fly back to Canada, and begin the next chapter of my life. As I sit and draft a list of goals, it strikes me that I’d be much better served with active goals instead of passive goals.

“To have” goals promote a scarcity mentality.
“To do” goals promote an abundance mentality.

My life will not be wasted collecting tokens of a socially acceptable existence.

Allow me to Rephrase

I want to have a blog.
I want to write essays, explore and share my ideas.

I want to have a car.
I want to go places and do things: camp, hike, gig, roadtrip, visit friends.

I want to have a computer, software, gear, a band, an album.
I want to create sounds that make me hysterically joyful.
I want to give people a reason to dance. (And yes, I want to dance with them.)

I want to have a job.
I want to do exciting, meaningful things with my time.
I want to shine light.

I want to have a partner.
I want to experience exciting things with my partner.

Go, Do, Meet People, Create Remarkable Moments

Let my adventures motivate and justify my necessities and acquisitions.

A loose abstract of my goals for the next chapter:

• EARN a living through meaningful contribution
• TRAIN my body and mind. New skills. (Next summer: triathlon!)
• GIVE of my time and energy. Volunteer to serve those in need
• CREATE and COLLABORATE. Make things!