Showing posts with label Charlie Chaplin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Charlie Chaplin. Show all posts

Monday, February 4, 2013

Don't Tell Me What The Poets Are Doing


As suspected, Saturday was spectacular.  The double bill of The Arkells and Tragically Hip was deliciously equal parts rock 'n' roll extravaganza and Canadiana.  There I was once again, a proud Canadian, congregated with a few thousand of my closest friends to be obliterated and elevated by the universal language that is music.

I have seen The Arkells a few times and I really love their music, in particular Max Kerman's vocals.  Their music and their set is energetic and punchy and it feeds the fever.  I was pleased to see so many Haligonians in their seats for their opener.  And they did the night justice, getting the crowd on their feet, priming them for The Hip.  I was wound up and full of fire by the time they finished off with a rousing version of 'Whistleblower'.  Tres impressive and I am certain that their fanbase increased during this tour.  If you don't know them, do yourself a favor and check them out.  I said so.

I'm afraid I'm still a little lost for words.  I tried all weekend to write about it but it was just so amazing I am still having trouble conjuring up the proper sentiments.  It's been a long time since they've been to Halifax, having to pull out of Virgin Fest in 2007 (which I was SO pumped for) so we were overdue and more than ready for what Gord and the boys had for us.  

The Hip are known for switching up their setlists and sometimes randomly play things you'd never think they'd dust off.  Erica and I were praying for 'Fiddler's Green' which they surprisingly delivered in their encore.  At the risk of sounding crass, goosebumps doesn't describe the feeling that came over me.  I felt like one giant erect nipple!  

The whole entire show was one long explosion.  I was surprised they gave up 'New Orleans Is Sinking' so soon, it was the second song in and that to me is more of a send off song but I didn't really care because it was all so spectacular.

Gord was in fine form.  Faded black jeans, button down shirt, tie, vest and a chapeau.  He was a cross between Buster Keaton and Charlie Chaplain, teasing the crowd with mimed antics with his handkerchief and dancing with his microphone stand.  He belted out the songs with reverence and raw power, gyrating and and bopping around the stage with his iconic movements.  You know it's true, I hung on every word, every note.  I was a willing participant and drank it all in, on complete sensory overload.  I did choke up through 'Fiddler's Green' and 'Bobcaygeon'.  Both of those songs have deep emotional connections for me and it is so thrilling to hear a crowd's collective voice swell and wane.  It's so powerful.

I know that's a terribly lame account of the night but I am being brutally honest when I say there are just no words.  They were magnificent.  It couldn't have been better.  Bright lights, video screens, incredible production and sound.  Brilliant performances.  Esoteric, melodic, emotionally charged, humble and honest.  They are all encompassing, they are the greatest Canadian band.  Period.

Speaking of incredible production value and sound, I had last minute opportunity to attend the last quarter of the annual AIDS benefit hosted by Tour Tech East.  My brother's band, Forty Fingers, were closing the show after Saga.  Remember them?  While I can say Saga's set was visually stunning, their music isn't my cup of tea but they held the crowd's attention.  I was really there to cheer on my favorite band of brothers.  They closed the night and opened with a blistering version of Gary Clarke Jr's 'Third Stone From The Sun' and slid right into their brand new original 'Spent All My Money On Rock 'n' Roll".  It was the first time I'd heard it and it was amazzzzing.  They ripped through their set with vigor and angst and high octane energy.  It was so much fun to see them rock the shit out of the left-over crowd and take advantage of such a supreme stage set up.  They didn't have to fuss with sound, lights, the smoke machine.  They had professionals taking care of that, all they had to do was climb on stage and play.  I was really blissed out watching them, so proud.  They really are incredibly talented musicians and when you put them all together, magic happens.  It was a crazy beautiful way to cap off my Saturday night.  Mingled with tons of people I rarely get to see and rocked out with my people.  Family.  The family you accumulate along the way and those hanging like monkeys from the tree; time spent is so precious and important.

Check out how awesome they looked:


I'm still trying to catch up on my sleep.  4am is hella late for an old doll like me these days but I wouldn't trade a second for a wink of sleep.  It was a fantastic weekend despite Sunday's snow storm and having to shovel.  I didn't get any writing done but tonight I took it easy and played with some poems while I watched Storytellers.  Norah Jones.  It was lovely company.  I'm also still working on my current short story.  It's taking twists and turns and I'm still trying to wrap my head around it but it will come.  I have tons of notes, it's just a matter of getting it all down in one place and figuring out a few transitions.  

I hope all of you Super-bowlers survived yesterday and your head wasn't like a foot this Monday.  My day was long and I'm soon to retire with some green tea and my dreams.  

Poetry next time!

In propinquity,
Nic

They shot a movie once in my home-town ....




Thursday, July 19, 2012

Charlie, Don't Cry




Whether you’ve seen any of his work or not, you know who Sir Charles Spencer ‘Charlie’ Chaplin is just on sight.  He was the most iconic creative and influential personality in the silent film era, most famous for his unforgettable mime, slapstick and visual comedy routines.

A few months ago I read an online story about his death and how he’d been stolen from his place of rest and held for ransom by his grave-robbers.   I was mortified by the story and of course ended up writing a poem about it:

Charlie, Don’t Cry

famed Tramp
sweet pint-sized chap
with the bowler hat
moustache and cane

your strong affinity for

cinematic

sentimentality and pathos
died on Christmas day, 1977

then in a beat

like a scene from a silent film
two dodgy mechanics

one Polish (Roman Wardas)
one Bulgarian (Gantcho Ganev)

padded into Corsier Sur Vevey
filched your resting bones
from the beneath the earth

and

re-buried you in an rogue field

£400,000 was your ransom
handsomely snubbed by your
Lady Love who knew you would
have thought it preposterous

Charlie Chaplin
stolen from heaven
for extortion

11 weeks missing

and so, yielded back to your crypt
from a nearby Noville field to safety
under six feet of strong concrete

you don’t have to cry any-more

***

Crazy, eh?  I had no idea until I stumbled over it in an article.

Charlie’s widow, Oona Chaplin refused to pay the ransom and as a result the youngest Chaplin children were threatened with violence.   The two grave-robbers were involved in a large police round up in May 1978 and in December, Wardas was sentenced to four years in prison and Gantcho a suspended sentence for disturbing the peace of the dead and attempted extortion.

The world has always been a depraved place.  Fortunately we have characters like Chaplin to keep us light and laughing in the face of it all.

Charlie Chaplin died in his sleep on December 25th, 1977 (I’d have been a mere four years old then).  Complications from a stroke he’d suffered.  He left behind a legacy that still to this day is imitated and celebrated.

Chaplin said, ‘A day without laughter is a day wasted.’  Laugh today.  Laugh everyday.

Happy humid Thursday!

In propinquity,
Nic