“In 1888, the French dramatist Alfred Jarry wrote the play Ubu Roi as a satirical and grotesque expression of the way in which arbitrary power engenders madness. He achieved this through the portrayal of a ridiculous but devastating despot, who was also a licentious libertine, an emblem of the clumsy and brutal deeds done in the service of a calculating state. Jarry counters this arbitrary power with what he called ‘pataphysics’ – the science of imaginary solutions, unmasking [the state’s] absurdity through farce, rather than empowering the tyrant by granting him serious presentation.” — Carolyn Cristov–Bakargiev
One kind of out-take is the little goofs and gaffes that get shoehorned into the credits at the end of a movie to keep people in their seats 'til the last person to thank has been acknowledged. (They were more fun in the days when they were genuine found objects.)
There’s another, genuinely tough kind: footage the film editor has to leave on the cutting room floor because the film is running too long, or because, great as it is, the footage in question really doesn’t do anything to advance the story.
In this magazine, these kinds of cuts most often happen so the story will fit the space assigned without making the designer sad. Or worse, because you’ve been stealing an extra couple of inches for every story, and now the whole book is completely out of hand.
It’s not unlike the situation you are faced with when the impossibly low price you paid for your air ticket starts to balloon because you went over your luggage allowance. So you end up staring into your carry-on bag, trying to figure out which half-kilo object will cost you the least to replace when you reach your destination.
In my line of work, magazine editing, there are new ways of getting around the problem of shortage of space. We put links into digital editions or QR codes into print, or exhort readers to “Google it,” whatever it is. That's just fine for readers with app-posable thumbs who are always just a click or tap or QR code away, but catering only to them is not a victimless crime. Because this is a publication with a lot of readers who, for the very same reason they prefer their music live, don’t do digital.
Why am I telling you all this?
Because there was one particular cut I had to make this issue that really hurt. So much so that I have been trying to sneak it back in, any way I could, and this was my last chance. It’s the quote at the top of this page, and it was supposed to be the second paragraph of this issue’s cover story. In the first paragraph of that story, I still tell readers where to find it – a particular article in the reading room of a fantastic website. But even including readers who tap and click with ease, I know that the percentage of people who will go looking is about the same as the percentage of people who voted for the second-place candidate in the recent Liberal Party leadership race.
Why do I care?
Because the situation the quote describes is just too damned scarily apropos to the times we are living through to ignore.
Aaron James, marathon man
Sometimes, though, stuff gets left out for the magazine for the simple reason that it falls through the cracks. Because two or three writers each think that one of the others is going to cover it. Or because it’s going to unfold over an extended period of time. And then all of a sudden it’s gone.
Fortunately, that’s not quite the case with Aaron James’ sixteen-part series of organ recitals. Titled Complete Solo Organ Works of J.S. Bach, the series, which takes place at Holy Family Church in Parkdale, started all the way back in September with a recital titled Bach the Young Virtuoso and is now just four recitals away (Wed, April 9; Sat, Apr 26; Sat, May 10; and Sat, May 24) from crossing the finishing line, with a May 24 recital titled Bach Answers His Critics.
One reader who has been attending faithfully, Robert Lennox of Burlington, wrote this:
This church, in the heart of Toronto’s eclectic and vibrant Parkdale neighbourhood, has a regular Latin Mass. That’s right, a Latin Mass. The audience is a congregation of devout parishioners often praying on their knees, seasoned with a sprinkling of seminarians in flowing robes; and a wide range of music lovers of all ages and backgrounds, some of whom have travelled from afar, who understand and appreciate the richness and beauty of Aaron’s unique marathon …
The organ console is high up in the balcony at the west end of the nave, and it is from there that Aaron introduces each concert in a clear and minimalist way in the manner of a master teacher. There is a Phantom of the Opera feel to the whole experience, which is downright thrilling.
You won’t find anything old or stodgy about these sixteen sections of a challenging but consistently satisfying race. Each leg is meticulously mapped out and melded to the seasons while remaining steadfastly faithful to Bach. The result is a superb performance worthy of a prize in any marathon.
Streetview brigades
Some regular readers of this issue may notice something of a shift in emphasis: away from a focus on particular artists or events, wherever they may be taking place, to starting to look more closely at the venues where all this activity is or could be taking place. Places where music is or could become a vital part of a healthy community mix: small and large, traditional and offbeat, well-known already, or yet to be discovered.
A good example: Canadian Canoe Museum in Peterborough has just announced the launch of Music in the Museum, planned to be “an ongoing concert series in its stunning new waterfront location”, and showcasing celebrated Canadian artists in an intimate, acoustically rich setting. The series kicks off on Saturday, May 24, with a performance by Canadian folk musician Old Man Luedecke, a two-time Juno Award-winning singer-songwriter and banjo player, known for his unique storytelling and heartfelt lyrics.
“Events like these allow the Museum to be showcased in a different way to a whole new audience,” says Carolyn Hyslop, Executive Director of the Museum. “We see ourselves as a community hub, an energetic space where people can connect, learn, share stories, and make memories, and the Music in the Museum series is an extension of this vision.”
Add one more to the more than 2,100 venues of all kinds in our database! But it takes local knowledge to find them, and people on the ground to notice when they are threatened or disappear. That knowledge can only be acquired at street level. It takes people who live a musical life in their own communities to know and care. “Homes for Music” is a thread in this issue. Check it out. And there’s contact information at the bottom of page 29, if this is something you would be interested in being part of.
David Perlman can be reached at publisher@thewholenote.com
