Choose your own (theatre) adventure

C.E. Coughlan

March 14, 2010

On Friday night I went to see Hive 3: a show in a warehouse space on the BCIT campus with twelve theatre companies performing simultaneously.  If you go, you better be ready to interact, because like it or not, you’re going to be part of the ‘shows.’

Someone hands you an info guide at the door that lists the twelve performances with a brief description and a bunch of symbols beside each.  At the bottom is a legend that explains what the symbols mean: confined spaces, darkness, difficult exit, flashing lights, loud noise, mild group participation, physical interaction, social interaction, wheelchair assistance necessary.

Gulp.

I don’t recommend the bar area if you’re looking to hide, that’s where you’ll most likely get approached, like my friend Lisa did, by a bearded man wearing a set of wireless headphones.  Throughout their stilted conversation it became obvious that someone somewhere was telling him what to say.  He told a joke that went like this:

“Knock, Knock.”
“Who’s there?”
“Panther.”
“Panther who?”
“Panther on or off, I’m going swimming.”

While the joke wasn’t very funny, his reaction to having to tell it was.  Eventually, he linked arms with her and lead her away.  I have no idea what happened to her next, but I wasn’t on my own for long.  A woman dressed as a doctor who had been lurking nearby came over and said, “I’m afraid you’ve been exposed to a virus and need to come with me to the infirmary”.  This interactive 'show' took place outside in a tented area with space heaters, elevator music was playing on a small stereo by the door and the receptionist, a man in a white coat wearing a face mask, told me to use the hand sanitizer and to take a seat where six other people sat waiting.  Someone giggled.  A notice board in front of us read: Polite Reminder: Quarantine Zone.  Please refrain from: Smoking, Eating, Drinking, Loud talking, Spitting on the floor, Suggestive dancing, Annoying the receptionist.  

Inside, we lay down on cots and were wrapped in blankets.  The nurses put lavender-scented eye masks over our eyes and headphones on our ears and a story began, a story in which we all died a slow, sad and beautiful death.  At times, I smelled evergreen and lilac – they must have been using aromatherapy – and at one point, the mask was removed and the nurses held mirrors to our faces and gradually pulled them away to simulate what you might see as you leave your body.  

Back in the building, I watched a burlesque strip tease, reverse bidding in which an audience member got his head shaved; I got interviewed, saw a man on a treadmill running through Iraq, listened in on a phone conversation about a woman passing out in front of the Dalai Lama and ‘accidentally’ smelling his armpit, went to a birthday party, and rode a bike during a puppet show.

Not bad for one evening – and apparently I only saw half the shows.

The Rapid Denoument of the Vancouver Olympics

Thad McIlroy

March 9, 2010
It’s been a week since it ended, or rather since the only part that millions
were interested in seeing ended (the Paralympics start on March 12, not
that the media or the politicians can muster any interest in this token event).
 
It took me a week or so from the start of the real Olympics to recover
from the three hundred First Nations’ dancers surrounding by awkwardly
shuffling Caucasian Star Wars storm troopers, who I assumed had tasers
at the ready should anyone pause in the festivities.
 
 
I still haven’t memorized the names of the corney mascots. I found
them on the VANOC site: Miga, the sea bear, Quatchi, the Sasquatch,
and Sumi, the animal spirit. Not memorable.
 
My shock at the opening ceremonies was soon to be overwhelmed by
my horror at the closing ceremonies. I still wake up at night screaming
at the memory of those giant beavers, which looked like they had
drowned a month before and become horrendously bloated.
 
 
(Note the caption: “Entertainers dressed as lumberjacks perform.”
Aside from the fact that there’s hardly a lumberjack in sight, just bloated
beavers and a dancing maple leaf, I wondered also whether in fact they
were lumberjacks dressed as entertainers performing – think Monty Python.)
 
Anyway, things deteriorated from there, and soon we were the laughingstock of the world. What could they have been thinking in Tanzania or Tajikistan after this:
 
 
I won’t even mention Mr. Bubbly.
 
However, the point of this blog entry is not the spectacle itself so much as the aftermath. I went downtown on a few errands the morning after the close and
thought I’d entered the Twilight Zone. The city center was all but deserted.
Talk about “Apologies, but I must eat and run!”
 
 
No standing on ceremony at London Drugs. We’ve got too much leftover
plush, the Paralympic visitors are not going to snatch it up, and we’re
clearing it out of here – fast!
 
The ploy was a success. It was a mob scene:


 
 
I asked one excited buyer what she expected to do with her 50%-off
trophies and she said immediately, “Sell them on eBay!” Disappointing
news for her there. While the last winter Olympics four years ago in
Torino, Italy, did not seem to generate any squishy dolls (possibly because
they lacked Italian versions of Miga, Quatchi and Sumi), I can report that
the “official” pins are mostly up for bid at $3.99. The few available items
of clothing appeared to have retained their value, but will not make anyone rich.
 
Meanwhile a display of London Drugs’ half-price plush got lonely:
 
 
But not for long:
 
 
Some of this junk was not genuinely endorsed souvenirs, but it was
heading out anyway:
 
 
It took some of the other stores and restaurants a few
hours to catch on, but they soon were smitten with the clearance spirit:
 
 
 
 
I love it that below you can still see “Welcome World” under “Good-Bye, World!”
 
 
Apparently Steamworks does not think of the Paralympic participants
as from this world.
 
Perhaps they’re more open-minded at the other Steamworks in
Vancouver, over on W. Pender “…a gym/sauna/bathhouse for men
18 years and older with private membership options. Now open to
the public, Vancouver is open 24/7, 365 days a year! Steamworks is
a clean, safe place to hang out, work out, meet guys, watch porn, play,
or whatever.” Welcome World (or aleast the male half).
 
The Hudson’s Bay Company, “the oldest commercial corporation in
North America,” purchased in 2008 by the U.S. firm NRDC Equity
Partners (from another American firm, The InterTech Group),
was declared “the…Online (emphasis mine) Store for the Vancouver
2010 Olympic and Paralympic Games.” VANOC couldn’t quite bring
itself to awarding the entire retail franchise to one American company,
so The Bay created “The Olympic Superstore” at Granville and
W. Georgia Street “a one-stop shopping destination for all official licensed
merchandise of the Vancouver 2010 Olympic and Paralympic Winter Games.”
 
Trying to exit the SkyTrain during the games I walked inadvertently into The Bay
and I thought for a moment that I’d stumbled into New York’s Macy’s on Christmas Eve. The escalator on the main floor from the Granville Station had been blocked off with steel construction fencing: management had moved the sole entrance to Seymour Street, where there was a huge line-up patrolled by police and security.
 
The escalator to the second floor was broken. I stood in frenzied despair for several minutes, pushing at the barriers. Throngs of shoppers stared at me with a combination of fear and puzzlement. Two young women appeared suddenly beside me, but apparently found humour rather than peril in the situation. Finally I summoned the strength of the truly desperate and managed to move one of the fences just far
enough to slip through. Now the shoppers were looking thoroughly frightened. A terrorist perhaps. I stumbled around the official merchandise, searching frantically for an exit. A bright-faced uniformed young woman approached me and offered me an Olympic pin with the VISA credit card logo attached. I grabbed it while blurting out, “How the hell do I get out of here?” She cheerfully pointed to the Seymour street doorway and I ran for it, jostling many, and did whatI was told during the closing ceremonies the night before, as a true Canadian: I said “sorry” twenty times
while I pushed the zombie-like shoppers out of my way.
 
Outside the main door, gasping for breath, I found this sign in the window:
 
 
I was reminded that the Olympics are all about the heights of human endeavour, about being your best.
 
It took The Bay a few days to get with the program and realize that the disabled
and their families were not going to shop in sufficient numbers to clear all that crap out of the store. By Wednesday I spotted:
 
 
But let me leave the final word to she who looks after (most of) our Olympic athletes:
 
 
I guess Presbyterians don’t care much about the Paralympics either.

An Awfully Canadian Occurrence

Dan Post

March 8, 2010

          I couldn’t help but think of Shane Koyczan’s poem “We Are More” this morning as I watched the bus driver purposely ignore a man trying to get her attention to open the doors and let him on. I was thinking about this whole Canadian identity thing, this supposed politeness we are proud enough apparently to broadcast to the whole world viz a vis a poorly-executed closing ceremonies, and was beginning to doubt it’s verity as I watched him whistling, yelling, and flailing his arms to no avail. Why didn’t he just bang the window? That would surely have got her attention she was pretending to withhold. A block away and he hadn’t given up chasing down the bus to the next stop.

“He’s still running” a middle-aged passenger behind the driver said. “It’s so pathetic.”

She was laughing in a twisted way, but I suspected it was only to cover up her true feelings of sympathy. I could see she was concerned, but also trying to avoid confrontation with the surly driver.

“Well, I didn’t see him,” said the driver. A lie.
 
This was amazing, a complete disregard for the Canadian identity as set forth by Koyczan's poem during the opening cermonies. Was this proof, as many suspected following our boastful conquering of the Olympics, that we were becoming more ‘American’?
 
“He’s still running” the passenger remarked with a twisted chuckle. The driver pulled up to another stop.
 
“Should I tell him you’re waiting?” The laughing passenger and the driver, it seemed, were having a change of heart. Their canuck was kicking in.
 
“SHE”S WAITING FOR YOU,” the passenger yelled out the door. The young man made it onto the bus, panting and wheezing.
 
“Thanks,” he had the nerve to say.
 
“I didn’t see you, man.” A lie.
 
“Well I know you don’t want people to bang the window and…” Ironically, it was his politeness that had almost cost him his ride to work. He wasn’t even angry as he said thanks again, paid his fare, and happily took his seat.
 
The whole exchange left me smiling. We had tried to be rude and I thought for a moment that it was going to work, but it turns out that our new clothes didn't fit quite as well as we thought they would.
 
 

Four Plastic Buckets and Two Sticks

Becky McEachern

March 4, 2010

 Apparently four plastic buckets, two sticks, a wine bottle and a cow bell spell love. Here's a street performer in Waikiki, Oahu, to convince you.

 

 

The Day After

Dan Post

March 1, 2010

 
A collective hangover has descended upon Vancouver, but unlike the foggy mornings of so many epic frat-like binges, all traces of revelry have seemingly disappeared from the crowd-beaten core of downtown
 
Awakening this morning with a smile-swelling still fresh in my cheeks, I stared at the Canadian flag that only hours ago flew high above the crowds, attached to a 6-foot bamboo rod, but now stands limp in the corner of my room. The horns and bells have stopped on the street below and the sound of the bus coming and going has reclaimed its spot amongst the sounds of the city.
 
Sitting up and stretching, my memory is jolted repeatedly with little flashes as various scenes of joyous pandemonium replay themselves in my mind's eye: Red and white arms in the air. Tubas. Bodysuits. Beer cans. Oversized Roberto Luongo heads. Gold.
 
A drink of water helps to wash last night's taste from my mouth and as I slide my hockey jersey over my head for one last victory walk through the downtown on my way to Geist, I half expect to see cape-donning stragglers wandering around the city; a stumbling and  forgotten few whose heads still spin from the biggest party they have ever seen. But that isn’t the case.
 
Remarkably, there is virtually no garbage, no partiers, and fewer people observing the chaos than there are working to tear it all down. Robson Square is desolate. Clean, but desolate. I can’t even detect any expected smells of liquor, sweat, or firework's sulphur. Slowly as it came, I am sad to say, quickly it is gone.
 
But will it be gone for long? Doubtful. An Olympic finish of that magnitude should keep people going for quite sometime. Just because Canada has called in sick today to nurse one of the most deserved hangovers of our generation, doesn’t mean we won’t be back out there soon, hooting, hollering and waving the flag of one proud nation.
 
Too many people in this city griped about the Olympics prior to their arrival, touting them as a pointless waste of money and a distraction from issues that matter, like homelessness, war, and even an inconvenience for their commute to work.
 
The point however, is not to forget the important problems in our country/city, but rather to recognize the positive power of our people coming together, and try to harness this energy in a positive direction, moving forward with the same drive and determination as last night’s victory march down Granville St.
 
 

Some Unexpected Hawaii

Becky McEachern

February 28, 2010

 I knew to expect the gorgeous beaches, lush rainforest, and toasty weather, and I found them. But what I found and didn't expect was a whole semi-permanent community of tenting homeless along the Waianae Coast of Oahu, the least touristy area. 

After reading about a volunteer garbage pickup here, I drove up along the coast to see it for myself. There's a recent huge resort development that has started nearby, which is causing a big stir. 

Associated Press has an interesting article about it. Everyone seemed to have a pickup truck and lots of stuff. This image of homeless was different from what I'm used to, living in downtown Vancouver. 

A related thing of interest is these baskets I found attached to some of the garbage cans. The point would be to not through food in the bins in the first place so that people don't have to dig through garbage to pick it out again. Their website about "eating in public" www.nomoola.com is a bit out there but an interesting read as long as you're ready to skim. 

"O Canada"

Kristin Cheung

February 28, 2010

It's the song you've learned to sing when you're in grade school during a school assembly. It's the song that's been played 14 times during these Olympics. But when was the last time you sang it with thousands of other hockey fans?

 

Drumlines at the Olympics

Kristin Cheung

February 26, 2010

 

First: It was a couple of 8 year old boys causing a ruckus on the streets with some noisemakers at around noon.

Second: It was a high school band marching down the street in the around 2pm. Strange? But not really, since its the Olympic season.

Third: On my way home from wandering after Olympic people watching, I hear the same drums I heard earlier. Theres a huge crowd around them, are they buskers? Loud and quite talented buskers in the middle of Robson and Granville? No, they're the DDT Drumline, a high school band from Vancouver Island, there's about 12 of these kids. (probably the most interesting street performers I've seen yet, and I've seen Batman doing tricks from his used suitcase). Their infectious drumming made the crowd wanting more, but like seasoned professionals they kept on marching along. Down Robson street where the crowd got bigger and music got louder. Where were they marching to? Back home to Duncan, BC, I assume.

Can Olympic Ice Dancing Change Your Life?

Patty Osborne

February 25, 2010

I was late getting to the Ice Dancing finals last night and they started without me, even though about half the audience was on my bus, and by the time I walked the half-mile or so through security and into the Coliseum, two pairs had already skated.

My Olympic houseguest, who treated me to the show, was already there so she filled me in on what I’d missed and, as the evening went on, she helped me understand how to do well in ice dancing:

  1. Stay close together, holding hands whenever possible
  2. Synchronize your twirls
  3. Go fast
  4. Balance on as few blades as possible, as many times as you can
  5. Costumes don't count so it's okay to wear a shirt with fluttery cape-like extensions on it (even if it looks ridiculous)

Things you miss in the TV version:

  1. You get to see ALL the skaters, even the other Canadian couple, Vanessa Crowe and Paul Poirier, managed a Titanic-style pose with Vanessa standing balanced on Paul’s hip while they sped across the ice.
  2. The audience claps for everyone, they just clap harder for the Canadians.
  3. Hardly anyone drinks beer at Ice Dancing.
  4. A bunch of cute little girls sit obediently in a row at rink level, waiting their turn to skate out and pick up whatever the crowd throws onto the ice after each dance. Two girls go out at a time and the whole row moves along so the next pair is ready to go.
  5. The intermission music included the Rolling Stones singing "Honky-Tonk Woman", BTO singing "Taking Care of Business" and someone singing "That's the way I like it, uh huh."
  6.  Zambonis are awesome.
  7.  It takes less than 15 minutes for a handful of blue-jacketed people to roll out carpets and then push the three-piece medal podium out onto the ice and fit them together, ready for the ceremony.
  8. Shaking a cowbell instead of clapping may seem like a good idea, but not when you're inside a building it's happening right behind your left ear.
  9. The Mounties look great against the white ice as they stand at attention ready to raise the flags.

mounties at award ceremony

My houseguest had to duck out before the awards ceremony but I stayed behind, although my eyes did not mist over as did those of the news commentator who said, the next morning, that there "wasn't a dry eye in the house." After that we were herded out of the park by more people in blue jackets who kept urging us toward Hastings Street, although a few renegades who wanted to go to a different street were allowed (with the admonishment that we "don't tell anyone") to walk along an ill-lit and twisty path to our bus stop at the other end of the park.

This morning a couple of people asked me if last night was exciting and I have to say it didn't feel like a real competition. Everyone skated well (most achieved a "personal best") and everyone got lots of applause, but there were no evil geniuses out there. It was fun rather than exciting and even though I heard the phrase "once-in-a-lifetime opportunity" several times, it wasn't life-changing—except that I did sing the national anthem for the first time in about 40 years—maybe that's changed my life.

DaVinci Doodles Draw Lengthy Lines

Dan Post

February 24, 2010
You can get yourself into a big ol’ line for just about anything here in Vancouver during the Olympics, from concerts and pizza, to a million dollar coin or red mittens.
 
Is it worth it? I wouldn’t know; every line I’ve braved so far has ended in failure once the venue reaches capacity long before I’ve even seen the front door. Hopefully the thousands of visitors that snake around the exterior block of the downtown Vancouver Art Gallery each day will find Leonardo’s Mechanics of Man exhibit worthwhile.
 
 
 
 
On loan from The Royal Collection in Windsor until May 2, the 1510 collection of anatomical drawings compiled by Leonardo, after assisting in a rarely-performed 16th Century human dissection, focuses on the muscular movements and structure of the body. I guess in the midst of all the twists and turns of athletes competing in everything from aerial skiing to figure skating, the anatomical drawings are relevant.
 
I’d be interested to see what your muscles looked like after spending 5 hours standing in line!
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