We've got it all right here, folks! Everything that's ever been written up, photographed, and discussed on the Sad Mag website. Enjoy browsing our archives!
SADCAST, the self-proclaimed “sideboob” of SADMag, has just released two new, stacked episodes, just for you. Produced and hosted by Jackie Hoffart and co-hosted by SAD Mag’s own Pamela Rounis, SADCAST is (at the moment) a kind of Slate Culture Gabfest meets Getting Doug with High, Vancouver version.
Episode 11: What’s Your Deal? With Pamela Rounis Recorded in February 2015, Jackie sits down with SAD Mag designer (and friend and neighbour) Pamela Rounis. We talk about the ’90’s, spooning dreams, designer eyes, and…we discuss podcasts. Enjoy!
Episode 12: Pressing Record, White Iverson & iTunes Playlists The mini-episode in which Jackie and Pam reminisce about the episode they JUST recorded but didn’t actually record. UGH. We rally to talk nebulizers, mochi, and soap. Plus a wicked delicious summer jam.
Check out more strange, eclectic and refreshingly honest episodes at SadCast.ca, or, better yet, subscribe.
Talking Heads is an interview column devoted to contemporary arts and culture in Vancouver. Once a month, Sad Mag’s Helen Wong sits down with a couple of interesting, unique individuals to discuss a topic of her choosing. This month’s topic? The vibrant and un-politically-minded talent of Vancouver’s own Andy Dixon.
I recently had the opportunity to interview the multitalented musician, designer, painter, and creator Andy Dixon. We discuss some of the themes in his artistic practice as well as some of his influences and past experiences. Andy’s show ‘Canadiana’ just wrapped up at Initial Gallery where he played on themes and tropes prevalent in the works of the Group of Seven. Andy’s signature style brings out a subversive take on traditional readings of cultural texts, and more of his work can be found and fawned over on his website.
Group of Seven by Andy Dixon
Helen Wong: Tell me about yourself. How did you first get involved with the arts?
Andy Dixon: I’ve always been drawn to visual art, honestly. Some of my earliest memories are of drawing and making comics. For a large portion of my life, my interests swerved towards music, but I continued to always do a little bit of drawing and painting when I could. During my time in bands, I was often the member elected to make album covers, t-shirts, etc so that kept the flame going.
HW: Who are some of the biggest influences in your art?
AD: It’s hard to know where to begin! David Hockney, Matisse, Jonas Wood, Cy Twombly, Nolan Hendrickson, Jean Dubuffet, Manet, Caravaggio…
HW: How did your initial role in album design spiral into painting?
AD: I actually think it’s not quite true to call album design an initial role. At a certain age and era of my life many things were working in tandem with one another. While I was designing album covers, I was simultaneously showing work at places like Misanthropy Gallery and Grace Gallery. I guess, as is common with the natural flow of life, design tapered off and painting gained momentum – it’s most likely my penchant for complete creative freedom that propelled me in that direction.
HW: How do you incorporate your graphic design background in your paintings?
AD: I think my background in design helped inform my compositional skills and, maybe more importantly, my sense of colour. I think that, after an almost decade of designing, I had a strong personal pallet that I continue to use today.
HW: In an interview with Huffington Post you state your work in “Canadiana” propagates a “great conversation”. Can you expand on this notion?
AD: Yes, it’s not just the Canadiana series that I’ve mentioned The Great Conversation. It’s been a part of my work for many years prior and continues to be a strong theme today. It’s the idea that everything we do is an allusion to our predecessors whether we like it or not. I was, at one time, an arrogant punk kid that thought that what I did creatively was completely removed from historical contexts but, as I got older, and realized that culture doesn’t exist in a vacuum (I only thought it did because I hadn’t experienced enough of it yet to make certain connections), I understood the absurdity of such an idea.
Now I use fine art tropes as a vehicle for my work much like modern music producers sample recognizable bits of music (recognizable as a specific riff or melody, or merely the suggestion of something we are familiar with – a certain guitar tone, or a symphonic string swell) to simultaneously join in on the Great Conversation but also to play with the intentions of the initial artist.
Canadiana at FIELD Contemporary by Andy Dixon
HW: How do you play around with Canadian symbols and icons? Do you think you are propelling notions of nationalism?
AD: There’s definitely nothing nationalistic in the Canadiana series, but there’s nothing anti-nationalistic in there, either, just as Jay-Z’s Hard Knock Life, which samples Annie, isn’t pro or anti broadway musical. The point of my work isn’t to bolster up or pull down any of the subjects. Instead, it’s to play with pop culture’s expectations using tropes as a way to draw out the viewers own beliefs and judgements.
HW: I believe a lot of the art made famous by the Group of Seven effaces issues of First Native land claims in their portrayal of untouched and barren land ready to be colonized. Do you think your work serves to subvert these issues especially with your artistic style?
AD: The subversive quality in my work is generally only in regards to the artist’s original intentions, or it’s place in pop culture, as opposed to political theories imposed on the work by others. The only political message in my work exists in the fact that there is no political message in my work.
HW: In the [same] Huffington Post interview, I like that you compared your use of house paint to a bad amplifier. Are there other ways in which music and art intersect in your work?
AD: Definitely. Everything I do has an undeniable shadow of the things I learned in the punk scene. I think the most important theme is that, in punk music, academically defined technical prowess isn’t often a goal. The punk music I made wasn’t about impressing an audience with raging guitar solos – it was about tapping into a certain energy and portraying certain emotions. Anyone can lock themselves in their room for years and learn how to play their guitar faster and tighter, but it doesn’t mean that he or she will make good music – music that can make someone feel something. I learned at an early age that technical doesn’t mean good, and I have been on a quest to define that magical thing that makes art actually good ever since.
HW: I think back to the composer Arnold Schoenberg and the influence his atonal music had for Kandinsky. In a sense, I feel that you act as your own Schoenberg and Kandinsky with your use of dissonant noises and off key notes during your time at d.b.s. and as a DJ. Do you think this idea applies to your practice?
AD: It’s possible, yes, that I have a certain penchant for dissonance which translates visually as well, but I also think that a lot of the music I’ve made in the past is actually quite melodic. I do agree with you, though, that I am both musician and artist, playing off one another, in a way.
Andy Dixon by Grady Mitchell
HW: What’s next for Andy Dixon?
AD: I’ve just relocated to New York for an undetermined amount of time. I have a solo exhibit here in November and have begun working on it. Other than that, my plan is to paint every day and continue exploring the themes currently present in my work.
33,900,000 videos of cats eating watermelon, falling off chairs, and having adorably miserable kitten nightmares.
Only after I’d peeled my eyes away from my third musical “sushi cat” video did I recognize the magnitude of what I’d just discovered: 33.9 million cat videos? To put this number into perspective, searching “Canada news” barely hits 4,760,000. Even searching for “Canada” can’t compete with the cat craze; at only 13,500,000 videos, our home and native land produces less than half the YouTube frenzy that our feline friends do.
How—how?—did sushi cats gain a larger media presence than our entire nation? Not sure whether to be awestruck, shocked, or disgusted, I turned to three experts—a media studies professor, a renowned cat researcher and a short-film director—for the scoop on society’s cat video obsession.
Sad Mag: In your book, The Public Sociology Debate, you reference this interesting quote by Burroway: the “privatization of everything.” You suggest that the opposite might be happening: everything is becoming public. YouTube is just one platform we use to “publicize” life. Where do you think this obsession comes from? Why are we so obsessed with publishing our own lives? And why are we so interested in the (often banal) things others publish about theirs?
Chris Schneider: We all want to feel important; we all want our individual selves to be recognized. Publishing, posting, and circulating the relatively mundane details of our lives accomplishes that task.
On the other hand, when other people are doing similar things, it really shows a relatability between ourselves and other people; it contributes to our feeling of normalcy. Watching cat videos, or other mundane details of our daily lives, is kind of boring. So it normalizes the boredom, and in some ways makes people feel less guilty about wasting their time watching cat videos.
SM: Many researchers believe this reliance on short-form media could shrink the viewer’s attention span. That we are so constantly bombarded with information, but have so little time to reflect on what’s going on that we don’t actually consume any of it. Do you think this is true?
CS: I think so, sure. It’s in some ways kind of like drinking from a fire hose: its not easy to do. That’s the metaphor for the information coming into our eyeballs and trying to process it; it becomes increasingly difficult for people to make sense of all of it—which of it’s good, which of it isn’t—to critically process all of these materials. One of the outlets, I think, is distraction: ‘I’m gonna look at this cat video’, or ‘I’m gonna tweet about eating this hamburger’ Rather that trying to really focus and concentrate and pay attention to what people are saying, and where this information is coming from. It’s a basic form of escapism. Daily life—sure its mundane, sure its boring—but it’s also difficult for a lot of people….We can unplug from the difficulties of our daily lives and plug into the relatively mundane details of cat videos or other people’s lives to forget, to relax.
SM: And how about you? Do you have a favorite cat video?
Dr. Dennis C. Turner with a therapy cat in Japan, photo by Junko Akiyama
DR. DENNIS C. TURNER
Director, Institute for applied Ethology and Animal Psychology (I.E.A.P/I.E.T.)
SM: You’ve been conducting research on the cat-human relationship for over 30 years; your book, The Domestic Cat, is now recognized in the field as the “Bible for cat researchers.” Why do you think cat videos have become so popular?
DT: One of the reasons I think cats are on the increase is because of what I like to call the emancipation of men; nowadays, men can express their feelings. 20, 40, or 50 years ago it wasn’t very manly to express your feelings. Cats are very emotional animals. I think men today are allowed to say they love cats.
SM: Do you agree with Dr. Schneider that cats might be one way in which we “unplug” from stress or challenges? How do cats affect our emotions?
DT: We have many studies showing that cats are relaxing; they make people more calm, generally in a better mood; [they create] a more natural environment [in which people] lose their fears. We’ve found that cats are capable of reducing negative moods—making negative moods better—especially depression, fear, introvertedness.
SM: When you want to feel better, what do you watch? What’s your favorite cat video?
DT: Definitely the Simon the Cat series: the one where the cat tries to wake up its owner.
SM: You’ve done very well with some of your short films—winning prizes at the Screamfest, the NSI Film Exchange and British Horror Film Festivals, to name a few. What, in your opinion, do viewers like best about short films?
Nick Humphries: Short content is extremely consumable. You can experience a story in a compressed amount of time. Those viral videos you’re talking about, like 6 seconds of a dramatic hamster, get play because they are short and on a very accessible platform and are therefore consumable, re-playable and shareable through social media.
SM: So why do you think YouTubers have become so interested in short, brainless cat videos? Is there something special about cats? Or is it the “consumable” nature of the medium itself?
NH: It’s because cats are awesome.
SM: Most important question: What’s your favorite cat video?
NH: There’s one of a kitten having a nightmare and then the mamma cat gives it a big hug. All while sleeping. It’s pretty much the best thing on the Internet.
For the full article (and many more fabulous, feline-focused reads), pick up a copy of The Cat Issue (Issue 18), in stores now at participating locations. Sad Mag subscriptions and back issues are also available through our website.
At first it was sincere excitement, I had finally found a quality pair of pants. The rarity of this should be noted––for me to find a pair with the right fit, loose but not saggy around my bulbous ass and thighs, is hard enough as it is, but to find ones that also stretch––this was momentous. I told the cashier that it was tough to decide between the “Modern” and the “Classic” fit but that I thought I ultimately made the right choice. He was surprisingly dismissive, responding only in grunt, which forced me to dive into greater detail.
“You know, sometimes you just need a little more space for your legs and I really believe the Classic fit does that for me.”
“I mean look at the stretch on ‘em! Look at how far I’m squatting down! Look! These are brand new! Didn’t even have to break ‘em in!”
“And this colour, what is it, like a deep navy? This is perfect. Not dark enough for the sun to bake my legs when I’m outside but dark enough to hide any stains.”
“You know how when you pee but you don’t pee it all out and you dribble a bit in your pants? I do that sometimes. I don’t think it’s a prostate thing. Either way, no one will be able to tell in these!”
“What? Yah, sure, they’re nice pants.” He finally conceded. Satisfied, I paid and left.
Talking Heads is an interview column devoted to contemporary arts and culture in Vancouver. Once a month, Sad Mag‘s Helen Wong sits down with a couple of interesting, unique individuals to discuss a topic of her choosing. This month’s topic? The sassy, fabulous and controversial world of drag.
Earlier this month I sat down with two queens, Jane Smoker and Tiffany Ann Co, to discuss their experiences and thoughts on drag. Jane Smoker is a professional drag queen. Having recently won Vancouver’s Next Drag Superstar, she’s slowly taking over the Vancouver scene and it has been a delight to watch. She is everything from edgy to glamourous as she continually pushes the boundaries of drag.
Tiffany Ann Co is an up and coming drag queen in Vancouver. Hailing from Richmond, she brings her Asian heritage into the mean girl world of Vancouver. Her performances are original and captivating, to the point where I’ve found myself watching them on repeat!
Jane Smoker
Helen Wong: How did you first get involved with drag?
Jane Smoker: I first got involved with drag when I moved out for the first time to live with my boyfriend and his roommate. We all lived in a one bedroom and found ourselves attending a lot of drag shows like Apocalypstick. Through this, I met the Cobalt queens and did my first show at Apocalypstick as Lindsay Lohan. From then on, it was just something I kept doing and it eventually evolved into Jane.
Tiffany Ann Co: I first got involved with drag during Halloween. My friends and I were brainstorming ideas for a group costume and we had settled on TLC. During our night out, we ended up winning a best group costume contest, which resulted in a promoter noticing us and booking us for future shows. The name Tiffany Ann Co emerged by playing with the letter T from my real name and incorporating the world of fashion, which is something that is very important in my life.
HW: How did you create the persona of Jane Smoker and Tiffany Ann Co? Does it feel like a construction?
JS: Jane’s persona is like a mix of Lindsay Lohan, Paris Hilton, Pamela Anderson, Courtney Love and Tara Reid. I’ve always been fascinated with these crazy, messy blonde celebrities. They appear to lead such chic lives with the way they dress but they are always getting arrested due to their partying and antics. Jane channels this contrast of beautiful people looking bad. Jane acts in a way that I wish I could act on a regular basis. She’s basically a hot mess. But with anyone, Jane has different sides to her and I like to play on her image, sometimes she’ll look more androgynous, and sometimes she’ll be very classy.
TAC: Tiffany kind of just takes over when I perform, but the idea of Tiffany was based off of the first performance I did on Vancouver’s Next Drag Superstar. She is the lovechild of an Asian Regina George and Blair Waldorf. I feel like Tiffany is an exaggerated form of my personality. She is like the rich Asian girl of Vancouver: a party girl at heart.
Tiffany Ann Co, photo courtesy of John Bello
HW: Does Jane Smoker or Tiffany Ann Co feel like an extension of yourself or like a completely separate entity?
JS: Initially, she definitely felt like a separate entity. When I first started out as Jane, I would always refer to her in third person. But the more I’ve been performing, the more I’ve become used to her. I’m at the point where I sometimes even refer to myself as Jane.
TAC: Tiffany feels like a character that is related to me, like a twin sister. I like to think of her as a characterized form of Tony that does things that I normally wouldn’t do. She is who I become on stage, but when I finish performing she just turns off and I go back to being myself. Tony isn’t a part of Tiffany; Tiffany is a part of me.
HW: What reactions have you received from friends and family when you first started performing?
JS: My parents were not okay with the fact that I was performing drag. They saw a picture of me dressed in drag at a Sharon Needles performance and confronted me about it. My parents are religious and believed that drag was a sign that I wanted to transition into a woman. I remember having to frantically scrub off my make up when I would meet up with them because I told them that it was a one-time thing. However, when it became impossible to hide, we had a big talk about it. Now, they see it as more of an artistic thing. I’ve always loved performing and view this as performance art.
TAC: I mainly received a lot of positive feedback and support from friends and family. I think Tiffany is a lot cooler than me, I find people want to know about Tiffany’s life more than mine! Sometimes it’s overwhelming when I have people coming up to me and recognizing me from Vancouver’s Next Drag Superstar because I feel so much like myself (Tony) even when I look like Tiffany.
HW: What is it that keeps you performing?
JS: I love to do it; it’s something that I’m passionate about. Other performers always inspire me and I have a huge vault of performance ideas to the point where I’m always trying to push my own limits and try new things.
TAC: I have been performing my whole life. I love the adrenaline and feeling I get on stage. It’s a fun process and something that I like to look back on especially since the way I perform on stage is largely constructed inside my head so it’s fun to watch performances back. I become a different person on stage, I have more confidence and attitude and I like how it’s different from who I am in everyday life.
Jane Smoker
HW: Drag as a performance often uses stereotypes associated with how woman are portrayed in the media regarding how they’re supposed to look. How do you think drag reaffirms or subverts this notion?
JS: I think this depends on the queen. There are classic queens who do create the look of big hips, big ass, big eyes and lashes. But I feel like drag has evolved. Drag is whatever fantasy you want to feel; it’s all about the fantasy because there are no rules in drag. For instance, I sometimes choose not to wear any padding on my chest or I choose to wear minimal butt padding, in this way I’m still beautiful without using any of the stereotypes portrayed in the media.
TAC: For lack of a better word, Tiffany is a bit of a slut. Like I said before, she does things that I normally wouldn’t do, such as deep-throat a banana. I think that there are different forms of drag and the way that I created Tiffany doesn’t necessarily use the normative stereotypes of what an ideal woman should be. I think the main difference is that I didn’t create Tiffany for men; I created her for girls.
HW: How do you think gender construction surfaces in drag? Do these issues occur to you while performing?
JS: I feel like I’m the classic example of a drag queen. I’m a gay man dressing up as a woman. But there are so many types of drag that it’s not so simple to categorize. Sometimes I will wear a bald cap, or I’ll have short hair; I’m androgynous one day and sometimes I won’t even look human.
TAC: Aesthetically I created Tiffany to be like a normal girl, someone you wouldn’t naturally notice in a crowd. A lot of drag queens like to go all out with their costume and make up, but the character I created doesn’t do that. Tiffany’s onstage persona is largely a comedic and sexualized version of how girls behave, so when I’m on stage I’m just performing.
Tiffany Ann Co, photo courtesy of John Bello
HW: Drag by its very nature assumes and reaffirms gender roles through the performance of wearing clothing associated with certain genders. Do you think this further reifies traditional gender norms?
JS:There’s a wild cluster of clothing that performers are wearing. You can wear whatever you feel like. I generally like to look sexy but I can’t see why you can’t wear whatever you want. If you want to wear leaves all over your body and all over your hair, then do it. Real cisgender women don’t do that. Drag isn’t about clothing rules; kings can wear bras and underpants or queens can have beards. At the end of the day, it’s all just drag.
TAC: Clothing doesn’t have gender; society puts gender on clothing. I think drag allows us to put new norms on gender roles because clothing is a form of expression that doesn’t define who you are or dictate gender.
HW: How do you like being identified?
JS: I identify as a male, but, really, why put a label on gender these days? There’s such a broad rainbow spectrum of gender and I believe most people are gender neutral. We all have masculine and feminine sides within us.
TAC: I identify as male, but for some reason I like using the pronoun ‘she’ for everyone. Boy, girl, straight, gay—whatever. I don’t do this in a negative or conscious way; I find it’s just how I speak.
HW: What advice would you give to up and coming queens and kings?
JS: Be patient and don’t do it for anybody else but yourself. Do what makes you happy and don’t follow the rules. The beauty of drag is that it’s so punk you can make it anything you want it to be. I think you should find something that makes you unique. But also, have a mix of self-confidence and delusion.
TAC: My main advice would be to do whatever you want. Don’t let other people tell you how to act because a large part of your growth comes from experience. You should determine your own ‘right’ way, because who is to say if your art is right or wrong? Rules are meant to be broken. At the end of the day, you just have to be happy with yourself.
Want to see them in action? Jane Smoker and Tiffany Ann Co host Back It Up Thursdays at Celebrity Night Club. Jane is performing at Edmonton Pride and has weekly and monthly shows coming up, so stay tuned! Tiffany also has an event called Sorority House at Celebrities on July 16th.
It was a move of passion––nearly instinctual. You were straddling me as we kissed on the couch and I stood up as you held on like a koala and slowly navigated us towards the bed; doing my best to avoid the coffee table, the chair and my clunky oversized bicycle on the way. I almost lost balance when I noticed a pair of my dirty underpants on the floor and casually tried to kick them out of sight.
Then came the sound. I squatted to lower you onto the bed and it was like a gunshot. A cannonball fired from a pirate ship oddly moored in my apartment. My pants had exploded from my scrotum to the soft patch of skin above my ass that acts as a foyer to the fleshy mound before it splits like an embryo into two hairy cheeks. I felt the breeze from the open patio door on my bottom. You held your composure as long as you could before crumbling into laughter. I didn’t think it was that funny. I really liked those pants.
When I found out I would be reviewing the new musical Miss Shakespeare, my thoughts went immediately to Virginia Woolf’s story “Shakespeare’s Sister” from A Room of One’s Own. Woolf imagines what it would have been like had Shakespeare had an equally talented sister named Judith who “was as adventurous, as imaginative, as agog to see the world as he was…Perhaps,” Woolf muses, Judith had “scribbled some pages up in an apple loft on the sly, but was careful to hide them or set fire to them.”
Tracey Power’s musical picks up right where Woolf left off over 84 years ago, though Power’s Judith finds a much happier ending than Woolf’s. Miss Shakespeare is the story of Shakespeare’s youngest daughter who refuses to play the part of the average housewife, choosing instead to travel to London, have affairs with men, and most importantly, write plays.
The Cast of Miss Shakespeare: Erin Moon, Tracey Power, Pippa Mackie, Amanda Lisman, Caroline Cave, Susinn McFarlen, Medina Hahn. Image Emily Cooper.
At first I was unsure of what new things the play would have to say about women’s roles in the creative world. After all, the play is set in Shakespeare’s time; beyond employing an all female cast it wasn’t immediately clear what road Power would take to speak to a modern audience. As the show went on however, it became increasingly obvious that even though Judith and her friends were dealing with a situation very much specific to their time, their fight for creative freedom is very much a relevant topic to modern women as well. At one point, Judith lashed out at her famous father, saying, “You write about us [women] like you know who we are.” My thoughts went immediately to the recent controversy surrounding Joss Whedon and his representation of women in his films; suddenly, I was grateful for playwright Tracey Power and the play’s other contributors and supporters.
There was much more to endear me to the play other than simply the novelty of seeing a whole troupe of female performers on stage. Miss Shakespeare is optimistic, charming, and most of all, fun, thanks to its exemplary cast.
Judith, played by Amanda Lisman, was perfectly endearing. I was won over early on by her performance of a song entirely about the fascinating powers of an actor’s ass, but Lisman was truly at her best when directing her witless companions.
Judith recruited what can only be described as a rag-tag group of misfits, including a pregnant woman, a bastard, and a married virgin. This is where the play really came together, transforming from a story about creative freedom of expression to one about female friendship and empowerment. The troupe’s renditions of the stories of Venus and Adonis and Pryamus and Thisbe rivaled those of Shakespeare’s own sorry group of players in A Midsummer Night’s Dream.
Characters Hannah Storley (Pippa Mackie) and Isabel Loxley (Tracey Power) provided big laughs with their wonderfully incompetent acting, while characters Margaret Moore (Erin Moon) and Katherine Rose (Medina Hanh) kept things grounded with a perfect balance of emotion and candour.
Caroline Cave & Amanda Lisman in Miss Shakespeare credit Emily Cooper
One of the most compelling parts of the story, though, was the relationship between Judith and her sister Susanna (Caroline Cave). Cave brought nuance, humour, and depth to her character. I loved the interplay between Judith and Susanna; my only wish is that I could have seen a bit more of it.
The songs were well written and kept the story from getting too preachy or sappy. The musical component achieved a perfect balance between being appropriately crass and beautiful, delivering laughs, yet still allowing for moments of sincerity.
The cast clearly didn’t need the help of any male actors, with Hahn, Mackie, and Moon each taking turns playing a single male character. Employing a rotating cast for this male character championed the importance of women and their relationships with each other in the play, rather than their relationships with men.That said, I loved Susinn McFarlen’s appearances as Shakespeare, which provided motivation for Judith’s character and delivered some well-received knocks at the Bard himself.
After seeing Miss Shakespeare, I was pleased to return the next night to see what the women could bring to their adaptation of Julius Caesar. Though the contrast between the two plays couldn’t be greater, the cast again proved themselves highly capable with their emotionally charged performance of J. Caesar.
Seeing the two plays back-to-back like this was made it feel as if Judith’s company of players from Miss Shakespeare had banded together once again to prove that female actors can not only carry a play, but make one.
I particularly appreciated the way the adaptation was handled, with all male pronouns switched to female equivalents. This change was simple and impactful, turning Caesar’s Rome into a matriarchy far more interesting than a traditional all-male power structure. Julius Caesar was an apt choice for a gender swap, allowing for a hard-hitting representation of female power in which women are freed from competing for male attention. The pronoun switch gave tired aphorisms from the original play, too often ungenerously interpreted, new meanings and depth.
The J. Caesar Cast, credit Emily Cooper
As with Miss Shakespeare, the play was perfectly cast. Cave was especially notable in her role as Brutus; her scene with Portia (Erin Moon), was perhaps the most emotional and beautiful scene from either of the plays.
One detraction from J. Caesar‘s success, however, was the music. Considering that the songs from Miss Shakespeare had been some of the play’s highlights, I was dismayed to discover that most of the music for J. Caesar was electronic. The choice made sense thematically; the play required a grittier sound to match the tone of the play and the futuristic look of the costumes (those I did love – especially the matching knives that Brutus, Cassius, and Casca wore in their hair). The integration of a DJ into the performance—who remained visible in a loft-like area above the actors, lit by an ominous, red glow—was a brilliant choice; but while everything worked in theory, the execution was lacking. I was grateful for the moments of silence that allowed for intensity built off of emotion, rather than scenes in which the music was too aggressive for me to connect with what was happening. Actors’ voices were looped throughout the play, an element of the music I thought worked well; however, technical difficulties at the very end of the play drew me out of what was an otherwise rousing finish.
For fans of either Shakespeare or local theatre, both Miss Shakespeare and J. Caesar are not to be missed. Miss Shakespeare is perfect if you’re looking for laughs, while J. Caesar should please even the Shakespeare purists. The most rewarding option, of course, is to see both.
You can see Miss Shakespeare and J. Caesar at Performance Works until May 17 or at Kay Meek Centre from May 21-29. More info about the productions and other works by The Escape Artists can be found here.
You probably know Roy Frank “RJ” Mitte as the guy who plays Walter White’s son on Breaking Bad. Like Walt Jr., RJ also has cerebral palsy, but to a lesser extent than his character. Now 22-years-old, RJ spends his time spreading awareness about his disability, speaking out against bullying, auditioning for new movies, and touring as a DJ. One gets the sense that he never sits still for long.
This weekend RJ is in Prince George performing a “Breaking Beats” show for Northern FanCon 2015. Sad Mag‘s Shannon Tien talked to him about “feeling” beats, taking risks, and being shy.
Photo by Daniel Martinez Matallana
SM: Why are you going to Prince George?
RJ: I’m in Prince George for the Comicon there. It’s going to be good. I actually haven’t been to that part of Canada before so I’m excited. I have a lot of friends…one or two from Prince George, but I have a couple from that area.
SM: Do you like the out of doors?
RJ: I do. I like the woods. I’m from Louisiana. I grew up with the forest. Not forest like Prince George has, but forest to a degree. I’ve been to Canada quite a few times. The one thing I enjoy about coming up to Canada is the wilderness. It’s beautiful to look at. Yeah, I’m excited to come. My friend is going to be DJing with me, DJ Mia.
SM: So you were formerly an actor on Breaking Bad. What made you want to become a DJ?
RJ: I’m not really a DJ per se. It’s an opportunity for me to do this. I do so much different work. I’m always auditioning. I’m always doing one thing after another. I thought it would be nice for a bit of a change. I do a lot of talks and I speak at different universities. And one of the main topics I talk about is getting out of the realm of comfort. Not being afraid to do that. And [DJing] is definitely stepping out of the realm of comfort for me. But I’m lucky enough to have this opportunity to grow. I think the more you put yourself out there and take risks, the better off you’ll be in the future. It may not always work out, but at least you tried.
SM: How long have you been DJing?
RJ: I got into it when I was younger. I had some equipment and I’d play around with it, and play with Garage Band. But I had some of my equipment stolen and then I just kind of stopped. Then I was talking to one of my agents about it and they were like, “Why don’t you try it out?” [laughs] And I was like, “Maybe…” Then next thing I know they’re like, “Get up here. We’re doing this, like…Get ready.”
Photo by Daniel Martinez Matallana
SM: So you didn’t have anyone teach you or anything?
RJ: No. Well I’ve been working with Mia, actually, for a couple of months now. And I know a lot of people in the industry. And I always watch people…but I have a hard time being proactive in front of people. [Laughing] So for the industry I’m in, I’m actually fairly shy. It’s just odd.
SM: So who inspires you in the industry right now, in terms of DJs or artists?
RJ: There’s a few that I know and hang out with and learn from. I mean there’s never just one. The advice is to never take inspiration from just one type of outlet. You have to see it all and you have to learn for yourself:. Trial and error. Always pushing forward and not allowing yourself to be vulnerable.
SM: So how do you come up with a set list? What’s your process?
RJ: I listen to a lot of music and keep listening to DJs. But I’m still working on my set list with Mia today…This will be my fifth show ever.
SM: Does your show contain any connections to Breaking Bad?
RJ: To a degree. I play some of the music from the show. It has a lot of noise and different beats so I try to mix it in as much as possible but not all the time do people catch them. This is something to me that I can just have fun with and hope people have a good time.
Photo by Daniel Martinez Matallana
SM: How is your DJ career related to your anti-bullying and disability activism?
RJ: I haven’t really incorporated it yet. I’d like to learn more [about DJing] before I introduce those worlds together. I’ve still got a lot to learn, but I’m always pushing forward.
SM: What are some of the challenges involved in DJing with cerebral palsy? It’s a disability that affects hand-eye coordination and movement.
RJ: Nope, my CP doesn’t bother me at all with this. The thing that bothers me is I have a tendency to not hear certain sounds. I don’t always have the best hearing. So that’s been my challenge.
SM: So what are some tricks that you use to overcome that challenge?
RJ: I mean, you can feel the beat. You don’t have to hear it. Sometimes I’ll feel the beat instead. It doesn’t really bother me, but sometimes I just catch myself and I’m like “Oh, I can’t hear that beat,” because I can feel it.
SM: That’s so interesting! So your biggest challenge is being shy, then?
RJ: Yeah I definitely believe that. That’s something I’m definitely dealing with [laughing].
This interview has been edited and condensed. For more about RJ Mitte, follow him @RJMitte.
Do you remember being a sweaty kid, sitting around your basement with other sweaty kids watching WWF (Now WWE), trying out sleeper holds on each other until your parents forced you all home? No? Doesn’t matter. That nostalgia will hit you like an elbow drop to the gut when you attend Ring-A-Ding-Dong-Dandy. Comics Graham Clark and Ryan Beil host Ring-A-Ding-Dong-Dandy at the Little Mountain Gallery, just off of Main Street: a show that can only be described as a couple of grown-up kids joking over the weirdest wrestling clips pulled from the internet. After attending a few of these nights, Sad Mag caught up with the hosts to find out more about the event.
Photo by Graham Clark
Sad Mag: If someone was to attend Ring-A-Ding-Dong-Dandy, what could they expect from the evening?
Ryan Beil: A collection of dynamite wrestling clips (curated by Graham Clark) projected on the medium screen with comedic comments sprinkled throughout.
Graham Clark: You can expect to laugh, first and foremost. You can also expect to learn at least one thing about wrestling. It’s Ryan and I providing a running commentary over classic wrestling clips. It’s a gas.
SM: When and why did you two start up this event?
RB: I don’t remember when but I remember why: because it made so much sense.
GC: We started the show a few years ago because both Ryan and I love wrestling. I kind of moved away from watching wrestling, and then when I started again, I realized how much I missed it. Also, after meeting some wrestlers, what stood out to me was how much the wrestling mirrored the comedy world: tough road gigs, little pay, and filled with people who can’t think of a better way to spend their time. The one difference is that these wrestlers live the road life but still have to be in shape. It’s insanity.
SM: Who is your favourite pro wrestler?
RB: Ultimate Warrior cause he’s the Ultimate. RIP.
GC: Oh man, this is a real Sophie’s choice. Hulk Hogan and Bret Hart brought me to wrestling, so they will always have a special place in my heart. As far as gimmicks go, Ravishing Rick Rude was my favourite. He would kiss a special lady he selected from the audience and then she would pass out. He also wore tights with his own face on them. As far as the best when it came to promos, I love me some Jake the Snake.
SM: In a wrestling match against each other, who would win?
RB: Graham. Cause he’d tickle. And he’s stronger.
GC: I would, because I would cheat. I would blind the ref then I would cheat.
Ring-A-Ding-Dong-Dandy is coming up on Wednesday, May 13, 8:30pm at Little Mountain Gallery (195 East 26th Ave). You can follow @_LittleMountain on Twitter to keep up with their events. Or you can catch Graham Clark at the Laugh Gallery, every Monday at Havana’s Theatre on Commercial Drive.
The boardroom at the parks department was hot, humid, and full of media and piles of us skateboarders who were filling the seats and every available space on the floor. We were waiting to speak in opposition of an asinine motion concerning the removal of a well-loved and utilized skatepark. But first there was another item on the docket—the proposed zipline at Queen Elizabeth park.
Yes, a zipline. Because it’s always best to have a quick exit readily available at popular tourists spots for when your relatives come to visit and your grandpa starts talking about “all of the damn Filipinos that are moving to town” again. The commission asked you general questions about your company’s proposal like “What does the zipline’s revenue model look like?” and “What will be the environmental impact?” before lobbing you a softball. An easy homer. “Is it true that 1/10 people who ride the zipline are squealers?” Admittedly it was a strangely worded question but not as strange as your answer.
“I’m not sure about that statistic, I mean, this isn’t an episode of Deliverance.”
There were two fucked up things about your response. First, Deliverance was a movie starring a sans-mustache Burt Reynolds, not an episodic. Second, you just made a wildly tangential reference to one of the most infamous rape scenes in cinematic history at a public and televised Parks Board meeting. A few of us gasped. The board voted almost unanimously in favour of the zipline.
Dear SAD fans,
