Rave architecture

The John H. Daniels Faculty of Architecture is getting a major design overhaul over the next few years, a move encouraged in no small part by the faculty’s new dean, Richard Sommer.

The building located at 230 College St. was originally home to U of T’s School of Dental Surgery. It has housed the Faculty of Architecture for over 48 years, which was previously run out of the Practical Sciences Building (which was demolished in 1961 to make space for the Medical Science Building). In recent years, 230 College has been criticized for its lack of studio space, both at the graduate and undergraduate levels.

The renovation project comes on the heels of the appointment of a new dean to the architecture faculty. Professor Richard M. Sommer of Harvard University recently replaced the retiring professor George Baird as dean, and has been hired for an initial term of five years. Sommer was previously Director of Harvard’s Urban Design Programs, a position he held for six years.

The redesign project is being led by architectural firm Office dA of Cambridge, Massachussetts. Office dA was selected through a closed competition process; also on the shortlist were the European firm Sauerbruch Hutton and the American Steven Holl Architects. “I wanted an office that was younger and more innovative, and we got it,” explained Sommer. Office dA is renowned internationally as a small, relatively new firm that pushes modern-
looking and energy-efficient designs. When asked about why there were no Canadian offices on the shortlist, the dean explained that while there were several firms that could have competed against the shortlisted offices, the faculty was looking to hire a firm that was younger and willing to be more experimental. That way, the result wouldn’t necessarily be as predictable.

Sommer made the point that the renovation would lead to “rethinking this building, but also thinking about this building as a prototype for the reuse of older buildings with a mind to creating architecture that performs better from an environmental standpoint.” The proposed renovation would greatly reduce the building’s carbon footprint. Additionally, he noted that the building would be used as “a kind of ongoing experiment” in emergent sustainable technologies, and that part of the process would include the students in these experiments.

Dean Sommer highlighted the importance of expanding the building’s studio space as essential to the continued development of the faculty. Among other things, he hoped that the redesign would lead to “sharpening and to some degree redefining the mission behind the design studios.” He noted that the studio method of teaching architecture (designing, drawing and building within a studio), which has existed for hundreds of years, has changed considerably in the past three decades due to the digital revolution. As such, the redesign project will also seek to retool the studios, giving students more access to digital design methods.

The renovation will be phased. “We hope to start the first phase within a year or so,” he explained. He noted the building would be occupied while the renovation was taking place. “That’s one of the design challenges, how you phase a project while people are still in it,” he added. “We’re arranging for some studio space for the undergraduates [at One Spadina Avenue], where the arts students and art studios are, and we’ll maintain the studio spaces for graduate students. If they are going to be restored or renovated, it’ll happen during the summer when students are off.” Pending completion of the first phase, subsequent phases for the renovation project will require additional investments, which the faculty is currently seeking.

The entire renovation project’s designs, as well as a scale model, are available for public viewing in the lobby of the John H. Daniels Faculty of Architecture, across from the Eric Arthur Gallery.

Girls on stage

Christopher Owens, front man for the San Franciscan duo Girls, slouches into a couch at El Mocambo. His eyelids flicker under a mass of long, dirty blonde hair and a plaid hunting cap. For the dynamic members of the group celebrated by Spin magazine as “the hottest band of 2009,” Owens and his bassist counterpart, JR White, look downright peaked.

Owens stirs, pulls down his cap, and slowly opens his eyes before beginning to speak. Watching the 30-year-old move, it would seem that a rough tour and media frenzy have broken him down—perhaps even more than the 16-odd years Owens spent in a cult, Children of God, travelling around Europe and busking to fundraise for the religious organization. Owens scans the pre-show scene at El Mo, where he is to play a sold-out show that evening, with a pained expression.

“Yeah, the tour’s been alright, I guess,” he says with the enthusiasm of a resentful 13-year-old at a family dinner. “I mean, we’ve had sold out shows every night, so that’s cool.”

The band is taking some time to play the east coast fresh off the success of their album, Album, which gained attention from mainstream news outlets—and major indie cred—after Pitchfork gave it an unbelievably high nine-out-of-10 rating. This tour has been off to a rocky start: the boys of Girls missed their Montreal gig after getting stopped at the border because some of the crew had “legal” issues. This isn’t surprising, given that their driver and crew spend their pre-show downtime passing around medical marijuana certificates, and swapping tips about how to run a dispensary.

Owens left the Children of God cult when he was 16, buying himself a flight from Slovenia to Texas. He lived with his sister for nine years before moving to San Francisco, where he met JR White through a group of mutual friends. White describes them as “fun, aesthetics-loving people, who are just a lot like us.”

Most of the appeal of Album comes from its liberated feeling: Owens doesn’t write about his experiences on the streets of Slovenia. Instead, he explains, it’s all about the things he was going through in San Francisco and his everyday life. The album isn’t about restriction; it’s about the things one does with freedom after living in a cult. It’s about real girls, real instances, and real life—and it deals with these issues with a kind of joy.

“When you’re starved for culture, you find it in whatever you can,” Owens explains, talking about his discovery of Queen and Guns n’ Roses within the confines of the cult. “We used to watch these movies weekly, which were supposed to teach us some moral lesson. I don’t remember the lesson, but Queen did the soundtrack to Highlander. And at the beginning of Lean on Me, they played ‘Welcome to the Jungle’ by Guns n’ Roses. After I heard that, I became obsessed.”

But when Owens launches into the role of music in his life, he speaks in a bitter monotone, sounding a bit like a guy rehashing an old love to a prying aunt. “You have to have a reason to be alive,” Owens spits out, as though the words pain him. “I’ve had times in my life when I don’t have anything to live for, and you’d be better off dead.”

“I just want to make music, fall in love, and then die,” White pipes up, his face stoic, with glistening eyes set deep into cragged dark circles.

That night, at the El Mo’s sold-out show, the duo listlessly pumps out a rendition of Album. The band is completely stationary, except for a slight head bob during their popular single, “Lust for Life.” The crowd looks on with disappointment and a growing boredom. The band stares into space and strums on their instruments, miles away from the crowd that was so drawn in by the hype that it didn’t mind getting drunk on a Tuesday night.

Watching Owens’ despondent face as he pumps out “Darling,” the love song he wrote to songwriting itself, I can’t help but think that the passion seems to be gone from the interaction. Maybe Owens has fallen out of love with music. After all, the show feels like a passionless and mechanical sex session. The kind where you’re imagining your partner as some kind of celebrity, and wishing that the room was darker.

Maybe the boys of Girls would be happier smoking some of their crew’s medical marijuana back in San Francisco—but then again, maybe it’s just a rough patch.

Mad World

The 17th annual Rendezvous With Madness Film Festival ran from Nov. 5 to 14, shining a spotlight on movies that deal with mental illness and addiction. The fear and shame that are so often associated with these issues can make their exploration difficult for the general public. As an artistic medium, however, film allows audiences a chance to examine the subject matter from a safe distance. The creative freedom that comes with film also allows directors to push the boundaries of reality. Viewers can enter the minds and imaginations of those with mental illnesses or addictions, helping to dispel common myths about these conditions.

Clara (2008)

Helma Sanders-Brahms’ Clara recounts a story of passion, loyalty, and great madness. Clara and Robert Schumann were two of the most famous figures in 19th-century Romantic music: Robert wrote symphonies, while Clara performed them in front of thousands of admiring listeners across Europe. The family’s well-being slowly begins to fall apart as the whispers and melodies in Robert’s head become so loud that he can no longer hear the real world—unless he silences the noises with drugs. Clara must choose whether to support her husband’s addiction, thus allowing him to write more music, or watch him become trapped in the chaos of his own mind. The film, rich in both colour and overwhelming melodies, effectively explores the link between creativity, genius, and mental illness.

Invisible Loneliness (2009)

Hsien Lin Jung’s Invisible Loneliness provides a stunning visual representation of what it is like to be completely alone as a child. The short animated film takes the audience into a little girl’s dream. Pulled in by deep reds, blues, and browns, we follow the heroine’s journey as she flies with magical creatures around her cardboard world. Equipped only with a tiny key, the paper girl must find a way home, hoping her parents have finally returned. Though the central character’s viewpoint does not reach far beyond an adult’s waist, the world can still seem deafeningly silent and endlessly huge.

Marion Woodman: Dancing in the Flames (2009)

Gender theorist Marion Woodman said, “I do believe we all have a destiny. We either live it or we escape because we are afraid to live our own reality.” Adam Greydon Reid’s documentary about Woodman explores her psychological “deaths” and “rebirths” through several interviews. Although Woodman has written on the hardships of the modern condition, she sees society as being in the middle of a great birth. The documentary feels like a definite departure from tired New Age philosophies: Woodman herself is captivating to listen to, and her theories are fascinating.

Noah’s spark

In a city as diverse as Toronto, it seems evident that the annual Holocaust Education Week should encourage dialogue between groups affected by genocide. But, as Noah’s Great Rainbow playwright Sam Chaiton understands, building connections between survivors of different traumas can be a difficult first step.

Noah’s Great Rainbow, which portrays two men who lived through Auschwitz and the Rwandan genocide, respectively, originated as a screenplay. (Chaiton is no stranger to writing for film: his tome on Rubin “Hurricane” Carter formed the basis of the 1999 bio-pic starring Denzel Washington.) Chaiton later decided to adapt Noah for the stage, but the story remained in flux over a few years. After a production this spring at the Al Green Theatre, two of the play’s more extraneous characters were cut, as well as much of its musical content.

The latest revisions to the script came last weekend as director Weyni Mengesha (of Soulpepper’s Raisin in the Sun) and dramaturge Nicolas Billion (whose Greenland found success at this year’s Summerworks) led a four-day workshop at Hart House. Finally, on Thursday, Nov. 12—after a final rehearsal that ran right up until showtime—the Great Rainbow Company presented their inaugural reading of the rewritten story.

After fleeing Rwanda, Lion Murigande (Mighty Popo) is hired to work at a Toronto nursing home for Holocaust survivors, including the crotchety Noah Goldblum (Dan Francks). Although fellow nurse Zoey MacLean (Sophia Walker) explains the significance of Nazi Germany to Lion early on, Noah is initially oblivious to—and later dismissive of—the suffering inflicted on Lion as a Tutsi. Both men see themselves as fundamentally alone, relegated to silence, and unable to see the parallels between their stories.

The central characters warm up to one another only gradually, endowing the core of Noah’s Great Rainbow with a believable sense of tension. Popo in particular is a master of timing, while Francks’ consistency makes him riveting to watch. The addition of Noah’s son Phil (Daniel Kash) as a third party to their relationship also effectively raises the stakes: while Chaiton could have limited Phil to merely showing jealousy of Lion’s rapport with Noah, he manages to play out the three-way conflicts in a far more nuanced way.

Clearly, the heart of the play is firmly in place. Its edges, however, still require some trimming. Apart from a rousing chant led by Lion, the story begins uncomfortably slowly: the character of Mrs. Patoka (Jane Spidell, channeling Fran Drescher), and early efforts at comedy and romance feel largely irrelevant to the rest of the story. As well, many allusions to the Holocaust are introduced too explicitly—much of the dialogue surrounding it feels stiffly scripted, and Noah’s inability to speak about anything else gives his character an initial sense of one-dimensionality.

But what of the place of Noah’s Great Rainbow in the context of Holocaust Education Week? When Phil accuses Lion of harming his father, he growls that the nursing home was supposed to be an “institution where survivors could feel safe”—a charge fully dripping in irony. The most poignant moment of the play is a duet between Noah and Lion in which both of them stare at the audience—not each other—lamenting that “this too shall never pass.”

There are so many divides between present discourses on suffering that even the potential for bridges can be hard to spot. But Noah’s Great Rainbow shows that emotional struggle is never unique: it’s perhaps paradoxical, but the surest thing we have in common across cultures and stories can be a sense of isolation. Hopefully, the coming stage production of the play will continue to address the theme with contemplation and poignancy.

Meet my shorts

The Hart House Film Board, an organization that assists aspiring U of T student filmmakers, held its bi-annual Student Film Screening on Nov. 11 in Hart House’s East Common Room. The Student Film Screening is an opportunity for U of T students to have their films shown to the public. Alumni and students filled the East Common Room, enjoying the complimentary food and drinks provided in the prelude to the screenings and during intermission. The event was a success in terms of attendance and audience satisfaction. Spectators had an exciting chance to preview the emerging film talent from U of T.

Directed by Sve Pavic

Lucidity centres on a lonely female exploring an abandoned courtyard. The story is told through the simplicity of black and white still-frames, which gives the short film a poetic feel. The beautiful setting, which juxtaposes majestic gothic sculptures with the single girl in an elegant black dress, is reminiscent of the music video for Evanescence’s “My Immortal:” both pieces have an artistic polish that is lost in many commercial works.

In Lucidity, the girl’s mysterious presence is heightened by her speechlessness. She is clearly in distress and depressed, and the addition of wavering music gives the film a lingering tone. In the end, the girl dives into a pool of water, emulating Virginia Woolf (minus the rocks in her pockets). Lucidity is not the most original film in terms of subject matter, but the beauty of its cinematography and story make up for its lack of fresh ideas.

Directed by Daniel Clements

The opening shots show a man and a woman meeting for the first time in a coffee shop, presumably for a blind date. The man is noticeably nervous, but the audience cannot sense that something is wrong until the image of a bloody body suddenly appears on screen. Little by little, the scene around the man and women is revealed to show police cars, pools of blood, and a hostage with a gun in her mouth held under the table.

The actors are competent and highly believable, but what really shines through in Patient is its masterful editing and cinematography. Though the beginning is a bit slow, soon enough there is not a single moment that does not draw the audience in. The unfolding narrative is impressive and shocking, but Clements leaves a few questions unanswered: how did the story start? How did the scene end up this way? And what was so peculiar about the way that the man identified himself in the first place?

The Audience
Directed by David Eng

This dialogue-driven short is brilliant in both concept and execution. The Audience shows a couple in their early thirties seated in a movie theatre, staring straight into the camera. The two characters, along with the rest of the moviegoers, are seemingly watching the film, but what they presumably see is us, the real-life audience. This idea explores a clever, very meta concept in which viewers are aware of themselves in relation to the film.

The two actors are well-cast, perfectly capturing the dynamic of a bickering couple. Plus, the dialogue is interesting and funny. Most impressive, though, is that the whole thing was filmed with a single shot and single angle, leaving no room for mistakes from the actors. Despite the surreal aspect of the characters watching the viewer, the film is as close to reality as it can get: at the end, to stop the husband’s complaints of the movie they are watching, the wife threatens, “One more word out of you and you’re not getting any!” It’s always nice to see a movie culminate with the woman getting the upper hand.

Refugee camp lands at St. George

For millions around the world, “refugee” is more than just a term. Médecins Sans Frontières estimates there are 42 million people displaced from their homes. To raise awareness, the organisation took its exhibit, A Refugee Camp in the Heart of the City, on tour in 2008, stopping at Winnipeg, Edmonton, Calgary, Vancouver, San Francisco, Los Angeles, Santa Monica, and San Diego.

Last Tuesday, students borrowed the idea and set up an exhibit on the Hart House lawn. The 24-hour mock refugee camp featured four tents, which were focused on supplying vaccinations, food, medical supplies, and water and sanitation. A hospital bed with IV lines and other equipment reflected MSF efforts, which included the prevention of water-borne illnesses like cholera.

“People wanting to check out the exhibit will first have to be registered at the vaccination tent, where they will receive an identity, like an eight-year-old girl from Sudan,” said Stephanie Tom, executive director of the U of T chapter of Friends of MSF. “Their job is to visit the other tents to find out what happens to their character, to make the exhibit more engaging.”

“For example, the little girl’s village will be attacked and she’ll be disfigured, so the participant will learn about reconstructive surgery on the field at the medical tent,” said Tom.

Volunteers discussed their experiences of working and living in a refugee camp. Another speaker, Leo Johnson, is a former refugee who lived in camps in the Ivory Coast and Ghana. Johnson is now a third-year political science student at McMaster University.

The overnight fundraiser started around 4 p.m., with a dozen volunteers staying overnight in the tents. Their dinner was a simple meal of beans and rice.

Friends of MSF raised $1,700 towards their goal of $2,500, and they are still accepting donations online. Until Dec. 4, the group is also accepting donations of Aeroplan Miles to send volunteers overseas.

Trail of Tears

In May 2009, Tamil protestors closed down the Gardiner Expressway for the first time when thousands turned out for a mass demonstration to call attention to civilian deaths. Some protestors at the Gardiner had lost relatives to government shelling in Sri Lanka. Others had lost touch with their loved ones, and believed the Canadian government’s reaction was lukewarm at best.

The Sri Lankan civil war, arising out of ethnic tensions between the Sinhalese majority and the Tamil minority, began in 1983. In May 2009, the government took over the last area controlled by Tamil Tiger rebels. As of October, Amnesty International estimates 250,000 displaced civilians are living in government-run camps. The stories of people caught up in the civil war are told in Not By Our Tears, a play produced by the Asylum Theatre Group, shown Saturday, Nov. 14, at U of T’s Robert Gill Theatre.

Hosted by the Centre for South Asian Studies and the Canadian Tamil Congress, the play was part of a book release for Wilting Laughter, a collection of Tamil poetry by R. Cheran, V.I.S. Jayapalan, and Puthuvai Ratnathurai. Chelva Kanaganayakam, an English professor at U of T, translated the volume. On Saturday, he spoke of the difficulty of transferring the rhythms of Tamil into readable English.

Not By Our Tears belongs to a genre in Tamil drama called verse play, which involves a “visual and oral representation of poetry” on stage, according to the program.

Performed on a practically bare stage with few props, the play drew its power from projected images, Tamil songs, and dance. One particularly intriguing piece was “The Story of a Severed Leg,” in which the leg hung from the ceiling centre-stage as performers dramatized the poem around it, before cutting it down and laying it to rest.

After the play, a former member of the Sri Lankan parliament shared his thoughts on how the play comments on multiculturalism in Canada. “The federal constitution of Canada was a lovely constitution because it incorporated both the English and French languages,” said M.K. Eelaventhan, 77 years old and new to Canada. Eelaventhan said that he had only one message for the Canadian government: “Please do something to exert moral and political pressure to make Sri Lanka see reason.”

U of T honours war dead at Soldiers’ Tower

Last Wednesday, the annual Service of Remembrance honoured Canadian soldiers in past and present conflicts. Over 1,180 men and women from U of T gave their lives in the First and Second World Wars.

“Each year we mourn the passing of more of our veterans. As we do so, this tower, which was built to honour fallen comrades, takes on an even greater significance,” said Malcom McGrath, chair of the Soldiers’ Tower Committee.

“There are those who at certain times in our history stood between us and forces of destruction, and in that they lost their lives,” said Chaplain W. Ebert Hobbs. “To remember them, and to honour them, is something we owe them.”

This year’s Service of Remembrance marks the 90th anniversary of Hart House and the laying of the cornerstone at Soldiers’ Tower. At the ceremony in 1919, the governor general said, “Through this memorial the great name and the great tradition established for the university by those who died will be handed down as long as the university endures.”

The 45-minute service featured hymns led by a choir and the engineering faculty’s brass ring quintet. Buddhist chaplain Marco Mascarin from the Multi-Faith Centre gave a prayer offering, and Rabbi Aaron Katchen read a memorial psalm.

In the final act of the service, wreaths were laid on the Memorial Screen—which featured the names of U of T community members killed in the First World War—by veterans, members of the Canadian Armed Forces, faculty, administrators, and heads of campus organizations.

Many attendees were there for personal reasons.

“It has great personal significance for me. My father was wounded at the Battle of the Somme, and luckily he came back alive,” said Helen Bradfield, a Trinity College alum and member of the Soldiers’ Tower Committee. Brigadier-General H.E. Brown, a veteran of the Second World War, said he was deeply gratified so many people had shown up for the service.

“I think it’s important for people to realize the contribution the university made to previous war efforts in Canadian history, and take note that U of T goes beyond its academic accomplishments and reputation,” said Katherine Parks, administrator of alumni associations.

Dr. John McCrae, who composed the famous poem “In Flanders Fields,” and Frederick Banting, who discovered insulin along with Dr. Charles Best, are among the notable alumni who died in active service with the Canadian Armed Forces.

The service was organized by the Soldiers’ Tower Committee and sponsored by the University of Toronto Alumni Association.