I fly to Winnipeg early tomorrow morning, and set up camp at the Winnipeg Folk Festival. I’m showcasing and being mentored (by John K. Samson, no less!) as part of their Young Performer’s Program. I’m there for five days (camping!).
Originally, after this, I was going to fly back to Toronto, but I made a last-minute decision to change my flight to go to Vancouver instead. I’m planning on taking the long way home, backpacking and eventually ending up back in Ontario via who-knows-where. I have some friends and family in western canada, I have little money, and I have an open mind. I’m going to try to make some money while I’m out there (I play music! I brought chapbooks and buttons to sell! I can do lots of other things too!), to aid in my journey and my trip home. I’m betting on serendipity.
If you are reading this and know someone who might like to host me in my journey (anywhere between Vancouver and Toronto, I may go further north to Dawson City or further south to California), someone who might like to host a house concert or organize a concert elsewhere, good places to play, good places to make some money, or just neat places I should really check out… please send along a note, if anything comes to mind!
Summary: if you know someone I should be in touch with or a piano I should play, now is the time to tell me.
I greatly appreciate the assistance!
In addition, send your address if you would like to perhaps receive postcards/letters.
lauren [at] laurenbest [dot] com
MEMORIAM
In lawnchairs under stars. On the dock
at midnight, anchored by winter clothes,
we lean back to read the sky. Your face white
in the womb light, the lake’s electric skin.
Driving home from Lewiston, full and blue, the moon
over one shoulder of highway. There,
or in your kitchen at midnight, sitting anywhere
in the seeping dark, we bury them again and
again under the same luminous thumbprint.
The dead leave us starving with mouths full of love.
Their stones are salt and mark where we look back.
Your mother’s hand at the end of an empty sleeve,
scratching at your palm, drawing blood.
Your aunt in a Jewish graveyard in Poland,
her face a permanent fist of pain.
Your first friend, Saul, who died faster than
you could say forgive me.
When I was nine and crying from a dream
you said words that hid my fear.
Above us the family slept on,
mouths open, hands scrolled.
Twenty years later your tears burn the back of my throat.
Memory has a hand in the grave up to the wrist.
Earth crumbles from your fist under the sky’s black sieve.
We are orphaned, one by one.
On the beach at Superior, you found me
where I’d been for hours, cut by the lake’s sharp rim.
You stopped a dozen feet from me.
What passed in that quiet said:
I have nothing to give you.
At dusk, birch forest is a shore of bones.
I’ve pulled stones from the earth’s black pockets,
felt the weight of their weariness – worn,
exhausted from their sleep in the earth.
I’ve written on my skin with their black sweat.
The lake’s slight movement is stilled by fading light.
Soon the stars’ tiny mouths, the moon’s blue mouth.
I have nothing to give you, nothing to carry,
some words to make me less afraid, to say
you gave me this.
Memory insists with its sea voice,
muttering from its bone cave.
Memory wraps us
like the shell wraps the sea.
Nothing to carry,
some stones to fill our pockets,
to give weight to what we have.
-Anne Michaels
When I first started investigating options for album art, I contacted one of my favourite Toronto “street artists” (I put this in quotations because the term “street artist” is ambiguous, sometimes pretentious, and oft misused), Posterchild. We exchanged emails back and forth for a while; the many delays the album process underwent and the business of both our lives made communication a bit slow. Much has changed since then: at the time, I was playing with the idea of calling the album In Flight, but it is now entitled Sticker Collection and the album art has gone in a very different direction.
However, Posterchild did a piece/installation inspired by what I sent him anyhow. I was, and continue to be, thrilled and also quite moved that my music was the inspiration for such beauty. I ended up incorporating what he did into the album art (which is a digital collage and is also very exciting!).
Collaboration between artists of different inclinations and disciplines is important, I believe, not just for the creations that result but also for dialogue, experimentation, and furthering our own artistic pursuits. It touches me deeply when I am able to be a part of this sort of collaboration.
Plus it’s pretty freaking cool.
Spring, like September, feels so familiar, but it catches me fresh every time.
I’d seen Virgin Radio’s “Give Your Radio a Reason to Live” ads on bus shelters across Toronto (which, by the way, everyone has forgotten Astral is souping-up and replacing, along with other street furniture, much to thechagrin), confusion, frustration, and/or outrage of citizens, depending on who you ask).
I’d only seen the “radio by the shower” ads, though they were widespread, depicting a radio perched on the ledge of a bathtub. When I saw the radio waiting for it’s last subway train, I laughed out loud. Mostly from shock… somehow this seemed much more violent and inappropriate than the bathtub version of the ad. Perhaps because I’ve considered and discussed with others the issue of subway suicides and their impact on those beyond the person ending their life, and the intentional lack of publicity. Which begs one to consider: when suicides are covered carefully, if at all, by news media for fear of increasing suicide rates, is it not slightly shocking to have a bus shelter billboard using suicide as a humorous sales tool?
The nature of much humour (especially if it involves satire or irony) is that it will shock and offend those who don’t find it hilarious. Virgin saw this in Ottawa where criticism over it’s poorly received ad series depicting troubled young women in need of being saved from the “gods of rock” led to the removal of the ads. Personally, I found the “lock up your daughter” ads far funnier and perhaps less offensive (or at least, differently offensive) than the suicide ads. Which is why I was really surprised to find nothing on the web criticizing the Toronto radio-suicide ads. Nothing.
No one is talking smack about Virgin depicting radios about to commit suicide in very human circumstances. Possibly because of the anthropomorphizing of anything makes it easier to swallow? I’m not so much offended as curious. Is suicide just funnier than oppressing women? Is the connection to real people drowning themselves, or jumping off bridges, or jumping in front of subway trains, more tenuous than the idea of locking up our daughters to protect them from the Gods of Rock? And to look at my own reaction, why was the portrayal of bathtub suicide in humorous advertising so much less shocking to me than the suggestion of subway suicide? Was it less “real”: not as immediate or visceral a connection? Was it a subconscious judgment of suicide at home to be more “acceptable” than public suicide?
All this said, I rewatched “Wristcutters: A Love Story” tonight and loved it (again) despite the fact that the whole thing is making light of suicide. I think what shocked me most about the Virgin ads is that they were public and blatant. Which is precisely what advertising is supposed to be; it wouldn’t be doing it’s job if it didn’t get in your face and grab you in some way. “Wristcutters”, as the name would imply, was even more graphic, but the fact that it was a feature film allowed it to explore ideas around suicide at the viewer’s discretion, rather than just displaying images for all to see without choice in the matter, with the sole purpose to sell.
I’m not particularly offended by these ads (and according to Google, neither is the rest of the internet), but I wonder how they affect those who see them. This is about a larger public issue. The content of advertising concerns me far more than the content of pornography, which has historically been a more contentious issue. We have chosen to allow advertising to be shown in public space, with little to no public input used to choose the content being displayed (yes, there are advertising regulations, but I’m clearly talking about everything that the regulations don’t prevent). Advertising isn’t fundamentally evil or offensive. However, I wonder about the effects of images of violence (and sexuality) that are displayed for all to see (including the young and impressionable, not to mention the rest of the impressionable minds of mass culture), without any democratic input into what is being displayed and to whom. Street art, though also public and uncontrolled, is infinitely more democratic, participatory and creative, but nevertheless far less influential and visible. Maybe I’ll install lighting to illuminate my favourite graf at night, so everyone can enjoy it in the nightscape of otherwise dimly lit allies, or notice it for the first time while waiting for the Blue Night bus.
There are a few new tracks from The Cameron House, where I had a great time opening for Backwoods Justice. On these tracks you hear myself on piano and vocals, backed by the talents of Tyler Wagler (bass), Graham Campbell (guitar/organ) and Eric Woolston (drums).
It’s beautiful outside, as seen from the living room window here in Owen Sound, and before the sun sets I think I’ll take my family’s small shaggy dog out for a walk. Being home is good, and Easter is a wonderful excuse for far too much good food. I went to the farmer’s market today, and it felt like everyone knew my name. I bought vintage belt buckles at prices Toronto will never see.
The afternoon has been sunny and sleepy. I’ve been waking up exhausted from dreaming and the day at this time feels thick, like warm sheep’s wool damp under your fingers.
I’m back in the big city from Owen Sound (a transition which included doing a “Farmer Fred” character at a movement/character/improv workshop… which I realized partway through was mostly foreign to everyone in the room and was therefore confusing rather than humorous).
Dylan Chauvin-Smith traveled up to the Sound with us and kept his camera busy. He was kind enough to post online some highlights from the weekend.
We also had Adam Hall from vWave Productions along for the ride recording all this troublemaking. There are three tracks from the show up on myspace, including the sweet sounds of Tyler Wagler (bass), Graham Campbell (guitar and organ) and Eric Woolston (percussion).
p.s.(ssst) The Cameron House is a good place to be this Saturday night. I’ll be joined by the Renegade Company to open for Backwoods Justice, back from hiatus and ready to shake y’all. 10ish, $5 at the door.
I did a short interview with the Owen Sound Sun Times yesterday which hit the papers today. You can view the article online. There is also some video of the interview.
p.s. There’s a few tickets left for both of the concerts this weekend. To avoid disappointment I strongly advise you get tickets in advance (and soon) if you plan to come.
I’m back in Owen Sound and it’s a bit of a whirlwind, but let’s update:
Appearing on Rogers TV Cable 53
For those of you in Grey-Bruce, you can catch me with Robin Pradham (owner of the Rocky Raccoon, fantastic chef, and all around great guy) live on Rogers at 11 am tomorrow (Friday February 27th). The show runs from 11-12. I’ll be performing a few tunes and Robin will be cooking.
Owen Sound Shows
Tickets are going fast for the show I’m doing at Robin’s Rocky Raccoon as well as for the house concert the night before. Information about both events can be found here.
These shows will be recorded, and is the first appearance of the new configuration of the Renegade Company (with old favourites and new delights).
Interviews
I finished an interview for the Sun Times this morning, and will be doing a Local Artist Profile at Bayshore Broadcasting this afternoon. I’ll provide more information/links as they come, but keep your eyes and ears out for those as well (the Sun Times story should be in the paper tomorrow, Saturday at the latest).
And the site is still coming…
A fabulous new site is on it’s way. It’ll be better lookin’, smarter, and easier to get along with.
Yes, you can RSS blog posts and/or gigs with the current site.
And yes, you can join the (as of yet unpromoted and largely unknown, but functional) Lauren Best and the Renegade Company facebook group.
And yes, please do join the mailing list if you still like to receive emails and haven’t entirely moved on to spacebooks and rssessessess and whatnot.
A Parting Thought
I saw a concert at the Rivoli on Tuesday night that was inspiring and moving, mind-blowing and soul-stirring and soup-making and bone-shaking. We already knew we loved the Undesirables and even had previously had a taste of some of the Toronto poets which were featured. But what I didn’t really have a grasp of was C.R. Avery. Please go listen to him right now. Right now. And remember his name, and go see him if you ever have the chance.