Fun Stuff – Page 5 – Karen's New York Love Affair

Bowie’s Impact on Me

Karen as Ziggy with Mick Rock — *Me and Mick Rock, the photographer who did the “Life on Mars” video in which Bowie wore this blue suit, and many of the iconic Bowie photos in the early 70s*

In the last entry, I talked about some of the reasons I imagine explain Bowie’s popularity and general appeal. Now I’d like to share a bit more about his impact on me personally.

The first Bowie song I heard on the radio was Fame, when I was 10 years old. My parents didn’t usually play music in the house, or if they did, it was classical. But for some reason the radio in the large wooden console stereo was tuned to a rock station on this day. (My aunt must have changed the station the previous night when she was babysitting me and my sister.) I turned on the radio, and suddenly I was hearing something astonishing! I had never heard music like this before. The rolling bass line! The groove. The soundscape of tinkling and puncturing and rising and falling vocal lines. So much complexity. I couldn’t understand many of the words, beyond Fame, so it was the pure sound and the physical impact of it. The excitement! This music moved my body to dance. It filled my heart with possibility and longing to be somebody other than a shy, lonely suburban kid. It blew open my sheltered, limited life, and I knew that someday it was all going to be different for me. Now bear in mind that I didn’t know who Bowie was, and I didn’t know who was playing the song when I heard. I didn’t find that out until years later. But the impact of the song was marked indelibly–a significant moment in my life.

The next encounter with Bowie was the discovery of this record album at a used record swapmeet, with my boyfriend Rick and my sister Kim, when I was about 16.

By now I had been listening to rock radio avidly for a few years, and I knew who Bowie was. But I wasn’t a nut for him like many fans probably were. I just fell in love with his face on this record. I was intrigued because it looked like he had one blue eye and one brown eye. I thought I recognized a few of the songs, and I bought it.

This is when my feeling of connection to his music began, particularly with Rebel Rebel. Hey, I was 16! Totally the right time to find a voice for the wish to rise up and rebel against my parents, be my own person, be wild and free. Again there was that rolling, relentless twanging guitar sound, the insistent drums and bass, the driving force of it. And then the lyrics were about a girl I wanted to be. The hot tramp that Bowie loved! At around this time my sister and I saw Christiane F, and the teenage girl in the movie was going through the same stage of rebellion and trying to find herself, and it all was MC’d by Bowie.

Kim and I also found The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars around this time, and rented the VHS movie from the video store, and this story, visuals, and music entered our consciousness and stayed there for many years, well into our early twenties when we were sharing a series of apartments in New Westminster and partying most nights of the week at the local biker bar, Rockin’ Tonite. The whole storyline of the savior from space, and the end of the world, and the feeling that there was some magic somewhere–illlustrated by the movie with Bowie in all those fantastic costumes–stirred that longing for a special life. It spoke to my inner knowing that I was meant for something more than the limited suburbian world I grew up in (Burnaby) and the safe, ordinary life of an accountant that I’d chosen for myself.

As you all know, this drive for something more has illuminated my life, leading me to the Diamond Approach and inner journeying, to Monkey Valley, vision questing, and eventually to New York City, where I feel I’ve come home.

Karen as Bowie at Soho photo exhibit — *With my friend Andrea at a Bowie photography exhibit in Soho*

So I’d like to close this post with a quote from Bowie’s song Lazurus, from his final album, Black Star:

“By the time I got to New York I was living like a king. Then I used up all my money.” The aptly named Lazarus depicts the end of life, rising up to heaven/the next realm of existence, seeing what we left behind down below, the feeling of freedom. The sorrow of the loss of what’s left behind. Oh, the cleverness, humor, and soul of Bowie. He shared the course of development of a human soul throughout a lifetime with us.

And from “Soul Love: “Inspirations have I none, just to touch the flaming dove. And love is not loving… And reaching up my loneliness evolves…” It could go on and on, but it has to end sometime. David Bowie.

The Bowie Impact

Carrying on where I left off the previous post, I’ve been pondering the impact of Bowie, and what it all means.

I’m certain that on the larger stage, as with any big celebrity, Bowie represented an archetype that people want to experience. Probably more than one. The puer, or eternal golden youth, is one (the female version is puella aeterna)-—expressing unbounded instinct, disorder, intoxication, whimsy. Which is hard on celebrities as they age. If they are lucky, they let go of the youthful side and become the shadow reverse of the puer, the senex (wise woman or man, wizard), characterized by discipline, control, responsibility, rationality, order. Bowie took on the years with style and joy, growing in strength of character, while still remaining connected to the joy and freedom of creative impulse.

Perhaps the refusal to remain the eternal youth is one of the things about Bowie that rose him up from the crowd and made him so unique. After his initial years of fame and popularity, he took a break to connect with himself. He set aside the Ziggy character, and went to a place (Berlin) where he could kick the drugs, escape the fame, and return to the well of his own authentic creativity, bringing forth an entirely new expression of musical possibility. This was not his first period of reinvention, and it wouldn’t be the last. I wonder about the inner thread of connection to sense of self and purpose that runs through the timeline of his life. What might it feel like?

The aspect of reinventing himself over and over is something that many have admired about Bowie. I admire his willingness to give up the fame, turn away from people’s expectations, and do what was true to his heart. He was willing to leave all he had gained behind, but that’s not how it went down, since his reinventions continually succeeded, with his popularity and legend growing throughout his life.

Seinfeld’s passion for a laugh

I saw Jerry Seinfeld on October 6, at a school auditorium on the Upper West Side. David Remnick interviewed him there as part of the annual New Yorker Festival. The two of them were very entertaining together, and Jerry shared anecdotes about his personal journey to becoming Forbes’ highest paid comedian around today (and in my opinion funniest of all time), with income of $69 million between June 2016 and June 2017.

I was amazed to see Jerry Seinfeld live, after loving the show Seinfeld and growing up in Burnaby, BC (a middle-class suburb of Vancouver), where nothing ever happened. I never would have dreamed that one day I would actually be in the same room with Seinfeld, close enough to hit him with a spitball.

Imagine the leap, from watching a star on a TV screen in my dismal college apartment (my neighbors in the apartment about six feet across from my window used to regularly vomit and urinate out the window onto the concrete below) to attending The New Yorker Festival on the Upper West Side of New York City. This is a leap all the way across the continent, to a location very close to Tom’s Restaurant, where parts of the show were filmed (and where I’ve actually eaten), to seeing Jerry Seinfeld and David Remnick in person. I truly had no idea this would happen one day.

I remember being at writing school in the early 90s and coming to class the day after a new episode of Seinfeld. We all watched the show and marveled at the clever writing and just how funny it was. I have never laughed as hard in my life as I did during the episode where George told his date he was a marine biologist and Kramer shot the golf ball into the whale’s blowhole (Season 5, episode 14). This must be one of the funniest things that’s ever not really happened. Interestingly, this was the episode Jerry mentioned as an example of how the writers on the show came up with situations that suited the characters. It started with the idea of Kramer driving balls into the ocean (something that no one else would ever do), and took off from there.

Jerry spoke a lot about his love of comedy and how it motivated him to pursue that goal, regardless of financial success, which of course he also enjoys at this point in his career, aged 63 (and looking fantastic). His success is phenomenal and impressive, but it’s hearing how he has worked hard at it—due to his love of it and not wanting to do anything else—that is inspiring to me. He listened to comedy records in his room as a kid, and later worked at his routines in small venues with a handful of people in the audience. He just wanted to be an opening act for a band. But his whole world was comedy, and comedians, and getting jokes to work.

He said the audience tells him what works. “The laughter has so much information in it. They sometimes go ‘Yeah, but, it’s not funny…’ Every laugh is totally unique. You could play me a laugh and I could tell you the joke.” It’s a weird dichotomy, because he’s trying to get the audience to understand his unique view on something, but at the same time, he is acutely conscious of the audience’s response and crafting his wording and delivery to communicate the idea to us, so it’s a highly interactive process.

I was struck by how he puts his whole being into this life of a comedian. He shared a story of working on a particular bit for 10 years. He thought it was funny, but no one else did, and he kept playing around with it until he could get other people to see what he saw.

I am inspired to see someone who loves something whole-heartedly and expresses it in the world at the peak of what is possible. Living in New York, I have the opportunity to see the best ballet, modern dance, and theater in the world, and hear the best musical performances. Obviously, Jerry does this with comedy. What’s clear is the single-minded interest and intention it takes to get that good at something.

No one knows this about me, but when I was a kid, about 6 or 8 years old, I used to dream of being a comedian. I got a book of jokes from the library, and used to practice the jokes in the cold concrete-floored basement of our suburban house. But I didn’t think I was funny, and of course at that age I didn’t have the depth of experience to communicate the nuance of the idea in the joke in a funny way. And those jokes probably weren’t that funny to begin with, come to think of it!

After a painfully shy adolescence, I overcame my fear of public speaking during a program called the Advancement of Excellence, in the late 80s, and since then I’ve taken singing and guitar lessons, some acting classes. I’m now studying dance at the Joffrey Ballet Center, and I’ve taken a lot of different dance classes over the years. As some of you will recall, I was given the opportunity to dance onstage (and conduct the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra) at the Orpheum Theater! I’ve taught yoga and led vision quests in the desert. I’ve given presentations as a professional writer, and spoken publicly in large crowds. I like the limelight now, and love the feeling of saying something that makes a group of people laugh.

When I came to New York, the first writing course I took was a comedy writing class at Gotham Writers. The instructor, Nelsie Spencer, was hilarious. Everyone in my class was hilarious. Sadly, I learned that I was not. Though I did have the class laughing at one or two of my dating (read: sex) misadventures.

In a way it is a curse being pretty good at–or at least enjoying–a lot of things. I’ve never had a really strong sense that there is ONE THING that I am meant to do and am passionate about. Though maybe writing is the thing that comes closest. I wrote my first story in grade 6, and now I’m a couple decades into a writing career. I believed this was my passion and my destiny at one time, but now I’m not sure! I’ve taken a few other courses at Gotham, and as you can see, I’ve been writing this blog pretty consistently since 2008. I just don’t know. Is this really it?

Seeing Jerry has had an impact–seeing someone like a Mozart, who has one passion and follows it right to the very end, the very peak. I have the feeling that isn’t my destiny in this lifetime. But I am looking forward to contemplating this question for a while. Where does my passion take me? Where does yours take you?

Eric Reed – Git’cha Shout On Nov. 10-12 at Smoke Jazz Club, NYC

I was fortunate to worship with the converted at Eric Reed’s altar at the Village Vanguard on Sunday, April 9. He was leading the congregation from his piano (actually, the VV’s venerable piano—what souls have imprinted that keyboard!), with his confessed alter-ego Tim Green providing counter-point on alto and tenor saxophone. Reed was on fire with spirit, innovation, and purpose. Green’s long lines were strong and clear, with a cleanness that complemented Reed’s soulful presence.

The band started with a tribute to Thelonious Monk, weaving the Monk’s magic into a medley of classic jazz, then shifted into gospel groove with “Git’cha Shout On” from soon-to be released A Light in Darkness, and crowd-fave “Prayer” from Reed’s Reflections of a Grateful Heart (2013). The audience was swept up in a collective contemplation of the fullness of love the human heart is capable of during these two songs, and it took off from there, building to a culmination of optimistic joy by the end of the set. One of the reasons I love going to the Vanguard on the final Sunday show of a band’s stay is that they have reached a cohesive groove and relaxation at this point in the run, and a comparison of the recorded version of Prayer with the live version on Sunday illuminates what I mean—there was an immediacy and excitement to the live performance that elevated the song to a new level of ministry and revelation.

Perhaps expected in the world of jazz, Reed speaks a political message with his soul-stirring melodies. “The older I get, the more I start to see my musical, spiritual, and personal influences as all one stream of consciousness,” Reed says. In today’s strange time, a very real, pressing question is how can the arts help us deal with the political situation. Reed is the first jazz artist I’ve heard address this directly. He enjoined the audience to pray for our leaders in these difficult times, saying they need our loving energy which will help guide their actions, whether they know they need our prayers or not! I was uplifted by this message with the music, which acknowledged what is going on in the world, and provided his listeners with the positivity and hope of right action and loving responsiveness, rather than despair and the futile hatred of ugly memes and clickable sensationalist links that seems to make up so much of people’s response to the times in social media. Responding to chaos and aggression with love might seem naïve to some, but I believe it is the response of a more mature humanity.

Reed is the son of a Pentecostal preacher, and was playing piano in his father’s church by age 5. He is steeped in the tradition of Christian love, and this heritage has matured into taking right action in the world through his role as inspirational entertainer. His early days in the Pentecostal church reverberated on the stage at the Village Vanguard, with the organic call-and-response that was part of those earlier Sunday nights. It was a time to share in a community of people who understand, and say “Yeah, we know.”

In between numbers, Reed also reminisced about the Vanguard owners giving him a chance 20 years ago when he was in his twenties, and he talked about the up-and-coming generation in the audience on Sunday night. Some of these up-and-comers were on stage with him as well. Young pups Michael Gurrola on bass and McClenty Hunter Jr. on drums laid down a strong gospellation of groove and amens.

It’s fascinating to watch a piano master at work, whatever the music genre. I remember watching the Buena Vista Social Club pianist Rubén González and his incredibly long fingers seemed illuminated with Wim Wenders’ divine light. Another Cuban-born pianist, David Virelle’s amazing spider fingers dance on the keys with a distinctive pouncing movement. Reed’s soulful jazz piano hands are mesmerizing in a different way, with resiliency and spiritual presence actually curving the ends of his fingertips up away from the keys, so that the pads connect with a caress each time they touch down. Then the blur of movement picks up tempo to faster than the speed of light, and the sounds of 10 notes at once fills the ear space with joyful jazz improvisation.

Philadelphia-born Reed has a 27-year career as a recording band leader, from 1990’s Soldier’s Hymn to the 2014 release Groovewise, and also recorded on numerous Wynton Marsalis albums in the 90s, including Live at the Village Vanguard (1999). More recently he played on Christian McBride’s Kind of Brown (2009). At the time of the April Vanguard show, Reed was in rehearsal for his upcoming release, A Light in Darkness.

This release will be Reed’s thoughtful, deliberate response to current events “Yeah, I see what’s happening out there–I’m not living under a rock or sticking my head in the sand. My faith is undaunted by the ugliness of racism, greed, and blatant ignorance of, seemingly, a world gone even madder than one can imagine. It’s easy to get away: prayer, the soft, mild chords on my piano in my solitude.

“These are all the things I think about as I prepare for a new recording… I can tell you, it will be highly emotional, more so than any of my other works. It will be a creation, a compilation, a collaboration and it will illuminate love, love, love!”

Reed toured with Ravi Coltrane to the Jazz on the Odra Festival in Poland this spring, followed by various dates in California and DC. He’ll be playing with his Eric Reed Quartet in New York, NY for his CD Release Party at Smoke Jazz Club on November 10-12, 2017, featuring music from A Light in Darkness.

The disappointment of Guns N’ Roses

I was thrilled to see Guns N’ Roses last Sunday at Madison Square Garden. At least, until I was actually in the stadium watching the show. Then it was a bit of a snooze, I am disappointed to say.

I had previously seen early GNR shows in 1989 at the LA Coliseum (where they backed the Stones) and in 1991 when they headlined at the Tacoma Dome. I can clearly recall the thrill in LA of seeing Axl twirling with the microphone stand, and performing his signature sideways sashay. Somehow, as the old blues song says, the thrill is gone.

“Welcome to the Jungle” was song #4 in their setlist, and I thought, finally, this show is getting going:

But it never sustained this level of energy… By the time they did “Coma,” 9 songs later, I was pretty much in one.

Surprisingly, the covers they performed had more energy. I especially enjoyed the freshness and emotion of Glen Campbell’s “Wichita Lineman.” But honestly, I just saw Paul McCartney do “Live and Let Die” last month at Barclays Center, and his version was better! I could feel the heat from the flashpots in the nosebleed section. I also saw Roger Waters do his own “Wish You Were Here” last month (see my video on YouTube), and again–his was of course WAY better than GNRs, though the crowd loved the song and sang along over GNRs instrumental version. It was a fun moment, don’t get me wrong. Just not the GREAT moment I was expecting.

What surprised me was that the audience was on its feet much of the time. A lot of reviewers loved the show, and here’s one by Loudwire. GNR are the 41st best-selling artists of all time, with Appetite for Destruction being the best-selling debut album of all time in the US, 11th best-selling album period. The “Not in this Lifetime” tour was the highest-earning per-city global concert tour of 2016, and the fifth-highest grossing concert tour of all time. People love this shit. And I did too. But maybe I’m not the fan I thought I was.

By comparison, I was blown away by Mötley Crüe in their final tour, which I saw at Madison Square Garden in 2014, on my first trip to New York. And AC/DC rocked the house in Vancouver last October–one of the best shows I have ever seen, with one favorite song after another, and the aging rockers kicking ass like you wouldn’t believe. I thought GNR would be equally exciting, but their show just wasn’t as good as these others. I guess it’s hard to live up to a memory. Nuff said.

Oh, except for one more fun fact:

Am I right?

Karen Rempel’s summer gig at Krystyna’s Place at 12 Cornelia St.

Etsy Logo

Sept. 14, 2017 – I worked a part-time job at Krystyna’s Place on Cornelia St. in New York this summer. I wanted to have the experience of doing a regular job, interacting with people, showing up for scheduled shifts. I walked into Krystyna’s Place one Friday night on my way to a wine bar with my friend Heather. I was dressed in an Iris Apfel t-shirt that my friend Dianne got me in Shanghai. This set off a conversation, and by the time I left the store, I’d bought a fantastic beaded belt and agreed to work at the store 2 days a week for 7 weeks while Krystyna was in Europe.

Karen Rempel in fantastic green beaded belt, with Bowie haircut and lightning bolt boots — *Fantastic green beaded belt, with Bowie haircut and lightning bolt boots*

I have to say this was the most fun job I’ve ever had. I opened and closed, served customers, dressed the windows (and myself!), and created an online store for Krystyna’s Place on Etsy. This entailed creating all the visual and design elements for the store, including a logo and header. I photographed 30 pieces that Krystyna had selected, measured them, wrote descriptions, and fell in love with the clothes!

Karen Rempel in mash-up of vintage necklace, studded cowboy belt from the Calgary stampede, Helmut Lang t-shirt, and black sparkly goth boots from Vaudeville and Trash — *Mash-up of vintage necklace, studded cowboy belt from the Calgary stampede, Helmut Lang t-shirt, and black sparkly goth boots from Vaudeville and Trash*

When the gig was over I spent half my final paycheck on clothes, shoes, and purses I’d fallen in love with in the store, and then came back again and bought half a dozen of the Etsy items!

Pink and green tea dress from Krystyna's Place Etsy store — *Pink and green tea dress from KP Etsy store – ignited street commentary the moment I walked out the door wearing it to a dinner party at Arthur’s a few days later!*

The store ambience is fantastic, with old black-and-white movies playing, along with contemporary jazz by a fantastic Polish jazz trio, and of course all the gorgeous vintage clothes. Krystyna is an amazing artist and designer. She paints ceramic animals, like the pig below, and she painted much of the wall art, furnishings, and rugs in the store. She is truly an inspired genius, with an irrepressible creative flow. Everyone who walked in was amazed and said they loved the store. If you live in New York, check it out at 12 Cornelia St.

*Green flying pig adorned with vintage jewellery*

During the time I worked there I met many interesting folks from the neighborhood, as well as visitors who wandered into the store on their way to restaurants on the block, including Pearl Oyster Bar, Palma, and Cornelia St. Cafe. One day the LA stylist Sophie Lopez came in and picked up two gorgeous crocheted sweaters (one pink, one yellow) and matching plaid pants. I didn’t know who she was, but found out afterwards. On my last day, one of the store’s neighbors, himself a designer, walked by and admired my window display. He told me he regularly sends pictures of the displays to his friend who is the aforementioned LA stylist!

Final window display at Krystyna's Place — My final window dressing. Model is wearing a print scarf under metallic belt for a cummerbund effect. Beret is adorned with vintage brooch. Both animals are adorned with vintage jewellery, and a green crinoline forms a froth ocean at model’s feet.

One day a rather sketchy woman came in, with bleached hair with 24″ roots, who sniffed constantly. She spent a lot of time looking around the store, trying things on, and chatting. I even asked for her advice about one of the Etsy photos. But when she left, her bag looked a little lumpy, and there was a blank space on the shelf where these white shoes used to be. Dang! A shoplifter. Another time I lost a sale because the payment processing vendor stopped the account in order to force us to call them. They wanted to sell us a payment processing machine. The nerve! So this is New York—unbelievable splendor, and the petty dark side as well. And a lesson for me about keeping an eagle eye on sketchy customers.

*These white shoes were stolen by a sketchy, sniffing store patron*

Karen Rempel feels Waters raining down in Brooklyn

Sept. 12, 2017 – Last night I saw Roger Waters at the Barclays Center in Brooklyn. So amazing! Sheer pleasure to hear the songs from my youth, especially from Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here, and The Wall. I bought The Wall as a double-cassette when I bought my Volkswagon Rabbit in 1981. I listened to it continuously in my car from age 16 to 18, until the tapes broke from wear and tear and a constant cloud of cigarette smoke!

I had no idea this concert would be so powerful on so many levels. The body-penetrating, mind-blowing volume of sound, the haunting music, the beauty of the guitar, and Roger Waters’ loveliness too. Most surprising was the political message. I was too young when I first heard Pink Floyd to fully understand the politicalness of the music. But last night it was very clear. This roadshow is all about empowering people to resist political leaders with the wrong agenda and to stand up for and care for each other, both locally and in the global community.

During The Wall, about 20 school girls from Brooklyn were on the stage, singing the chorus “We don’t need no education, we don’t need no thought control.” At first they were in orange jumpsuit school/prison “uniforms,” which they unzipped at the end to reveal black Resist t-shirts. I was pierced with the beauty of these innocent children suddenly onstage performing, enacting the words that I listened to when I was a teenager.

Waters also acknowledged the day, which happened to be September 11. He expressed sorrow for the families of the innocents who died in 9/11, and for all the responders who worked on the site and later died of illnesses from exposure to the toxic waste. And most of all, for the hundreds of thousands of people around the world who have since been killed as a result of the political response to 9/11. I was moved, heartened, and encouraged by this acknowledgement of the huge world-changing fall-out of those few hours in New York City on September 11, sixteen years ago. On the way home to my apartment in Greenwich Village I saw a giant beam of light piercing the sky, coming from the One World Tower. The Empire State Building was lit in Red, White, and Blue.

Most of all, I was moved by the fact that Roger Waters has been a political activist, raising awareness through his music, for five decades. His message about fighting authority (the teen anthem of all ages) has not changed, and it is even more relevant today. But let’s not forget the music for its own sake. Some of the most amazing, beautiful, moving, intelligent music in rock history.

The concert start was delayed due to protestors outside who were angry about Waters’ recent New York Times editorial. All backpacks were quarantined (checked) in the concourse outside the concert arena, which caused huge delays in entry, and a muddled chaotic mass of concert-goers unable to get into the hall until after the posted start time. This made me curious about the editorial, and about the issue of anti-BDS legislation, which led me to read about it, and to read some of the commentary, including an opinion written by David Schraub on the Jewish Telegraph Agency website. There are several remarkable aspects to this scenario. One is that Waters wrote the piece and it was published in The New York Times. Another is that people take it seriously enough to protest his concert. And a third is that it has raised awareness of a political issue, leading to thoughtfulness and debate. I spoke to several people out front of Barclays Center about the debate and whether anti-BDS legislation is a violation of free speech. Instead of being angry about the delays—and the claustrophobia of being told by security guards to push and clump together to get to the front (!)—people were engaged in thoughtful political discussion!

Money Clip

Waters ended with Comfortably Numb. I would have to say that while the temptation is to tune out what is happening in the world, Waters is doing the opposite. His message is Resist! Resist “authoritarianism and proto-fascism,” as he says in the editorial.

Wish You Were Here

Home Again

Us and Them

P.S. I am back-filling entries for the months that I was too busy moving to New York to write in this blog. So the date at the beginning of the entry is the date written. The date at the bottom is used to sort the entries.

Karen Rempel views magical eclipse

August 31, 2017 – My friend Mike Rosetta took me “down the shore” to watch the solar eclipse on August 21. We went to the beach in Ocean Grove, New Jersey, a short beat from Bruce Springsteen’s hometown of Asbury Park. Much to my surprise, we had to pay $8 to go onto the beach. Another friend, songwriter Michael Graetzer, took this amazing eclipse photo in Central Park:

The eclipse was very eerie and beautiful. Clouds kept going by, so I lay on the sand with eclipse glasses on for about 2 hours, waiting for glimpses of the eclipse to emerge. I saw the whole path of the moon across the sun and it was magnificent and made me think cosmic thoughts!

Plus I think I finally understand that whole thing from grade 9 science, with the orange and the grapefruit and the pingpong ball.

Karen Rempel says Goodbye Trudeau, Hello Trumpy!

April 24, 2017 – On Saturday night I threw a Goodbye Trudeau, Hello Trumpy party. Some fantastic folks came to wish me well as I prepare to journey forth to be a New Yorker for the next decade of my life.

Some family members brought snacks in the spirit of the occasion–a rainbow of nutritious yumminess for Trudeau, and some rather toxic-looking orange snackies to represent the Donald. Doris, you are brilliant! Others got into the west-coast spirit with crab dip served in New York garments. High fashion, Irm! You looked like you stepped straight off Fifth Avenue! And of course many folks brought wine, beer, and other choice bevvies. Brilliant!

I served Manhattans Karen-style, extra bitter. (It was a mistake, honest.) It was fun to share the concoction with my friends and family, and taste New York together.

My friend Trish was kind enough to photograph the cake and me with most of my guests, though a few were camera-shy. Thanks, Trish! Here’s a peek at the partiers:

Goodbye Hello Party

1=Trish, 2=Irma & Cary, 3=Irma, 4=Bruce, 5 to 7 = Stephenie, 8=Troy, 9&10=Pam & Heather, 11=Alisha, 12=Steve, 13=Doris & Neil, 14=Eva

And more guests:

Trudeau Trumpy Party

1=Jill, 2 & 3=Patricia, 4 to 6=Steve & Resi, 7 to 10=Mom & Aunty Vina, 11=Kat (Another New York Hottie!)

I felt so much love, support, and warmth from and for my peeps. You guys are awesome! I will definitely make an annual return to Vancouver to stay close, and you’re invited to crash at my tiny 400 s.f. Manhattan apartment.

For fun and practical reasons, I created a loot room, in the hopes that many of my favourite possessions would find new homes with my favourite people. There was looting and then there was looting of the looters. I especially loved the moment when one of my friends tried to take the meditation cushion someone else was carrying out! Very spiritual, these people. LOL

You guys must know me very well, for many brought gifts and chocolate was featured prominently. And these gorgeous flowers graced the table. Wow, so much pleasure is in store for me!

I was super glad that people came out on a rainy night, and extra props go to my mom and sister Kat, who came from Horsefly to celebrate with me. I promised everyone there would be dancing, and a few of us took to the dance floor towards the end of the evening. (We were having a Stevie Nicks moment!!)

Sadly, every party has to end eventually. When the last folks had gone home, my mom and I weren’t quite ready for the party to end, and we continued the music and dancing into the wee hours. My sister Kat was trying to sleep downstairs and said she kept hearing loud bursts of laughter and stomping. Who, me? My mom? What!? (Innocent face.)

I love these cards Doris and Neil brought. Trumpy’s hair stood on end when he heard I’m coming! But Trudeau took it in cool stride…

It was an amazing evening and send-off, which I’ll always remember. Thanks for being there, dear friends. Love ya!

Karen Rempel hears joy in the house with Donny McCaslin

April 2, 2017 – And I think the spirit of David Bowie was there too. Saturday night’s (April 1, 2017) scintillating performance at Carnegie’s Zankel Hall demonstrated that Donny McCaslin has developed into a world-class, big league band leader, composer, and sax player. I saw McCaslin perform in early 2016 at the Village Vanguard, shortly after David Bowie’s death, and the events of the past year seem to have transformed McCaslin from an angry young(ish) man into a joyful, seasoned artist who is streaming his creative gifts into the world.

Last night McCaslin opened with a discordant, in your face composition from his earlier repertoire of published music, and then the quartet took a leap into two new (as yet un-named) numbers that McCaslin wrote specifically for the performance at Zankel Hall. The band members were beaming, and so was I, as I heard the driving rhythm section (bassist Jonathan Maron and drummer Zach Danziger) provide counter-point to an astonishing fusion of McCaslin’s sax and keyboard wizard Jason Lindner’s never-before-heard arrangement of electronic noise. The sounds were so unexpected and new, a feeling of wonder filled the hall and penetrated into the minds and bodies of the audience like a magic dust, floating down, pinging off the earbones, and ringing bells of awakening in every cell of the collective body. This music was exciting! A fresh invocation of joyful wonder, and the band was fully enjoying the revelation as well, with smiles on their faces throughout the performance. They felt the rapture, and made us feel it too.

As you may know, McCaslin and Lindner played on David Bowie’s final musical gift to the world, Black Star, released two days before his death in Jan. 2016. Clearly some audience members were Bowie fans, and McCaslin did not disappoint. The band played “Lazarus,” bringing tears of remembrance and sorrow as we heard the song, perhaps for the first time, without the vocal track of Bowie’s achingly familiar, distinctive, age- and wisdom-tinged voice.

The song begins with the (now silent) vocals, “Look up here, I’m in heaven…” and expresses humor, Bowie’s love of New York, and further musings on the afterlife… “By the time I got to New York I was living like a king. Then I used up all my money, I was looking for your ass. This way or no way, you know I’ll be free. Just like that bluebird, now ain’t that just like me. Oh I’ll be free…”

This missing element struck home the loss to the world of our dear David Bowie, and perhaps by making the loss so real, helped to bring a year of deep mourning to a close. I am moved beyond words at Bowie’s generosity to write this music as his continuing creative contribution to the world, and help us prepare and come to terms with his death, and perhaps our own.

McCaslin generously shared an anecdote about accepting a Grammy award for Blackstar on Bowie’s behalf (the album garnered five in total), together with Lindner, at the ceremony in February. McCaslin outfitted himself for the awards ceremony at Agnes B. in Soho, a designer who had often created clothes for Bowie, and even designed wardrobes for Bowie tours. McCaslin had selected a black Euro-fit suit with a reverse-logo Blackstar t-shirt—very hipster and ringing that note of musical triumph of Bowie’s final work. McCaslin confided with the audience that this was the very suit he was wearing for our performance, and shared that Gail Ann Dorsey, Bowie’s long-time bass player, also gets some of her fantastic clothes at Agnes B. Check out the hard-core punk meets Buddhism dark green dress she wore during Bowie’s Oct. 2, 1999 performance on Saturday Night Live! I noticed that Lindner was also paying subtle homage to Bowie vis-à-vis tiny astronauts floating on the dark background of his socks, and silver denim high-tops.

The group played another shrieking, body-armor penetrating track from McCaslin’s 3^rd and most recent CD, Beyond Now (released in Oct. 2016). And then another homage to Bowie, “Warzsawa,” a song he’d written with Brian Eno on 1977’s Low, Bowie’s first album in his Berlin trilogy.

McCaslin has a growing body of original music to draw on in his live performances, but his new work takes us to another level entirely. McCaslin’s generosity of spirit shines through this new creative font of joy, and he demonstrates it doubly with making space in the evening’s program for two Bowie songs. There was enough time and space for it all, and by drawing Bowie’s early and final work into the melange of his own oeuvre, McCaslin showed how these two streams are intertwined and that Bowie’s gifted soul continues to impact the world in the next generation of musicians and audiences—if the young man head-banging in the row in front of me was any indication!

It was an all-ages crowd, with older audience members sharing memories of seeing Bowie at Madison Square Garden in the 1990s, and a young child talking in the balcony, penetrating the silent spaces between Maron’s acid bass notes in his introduction to a song of further keyboard magic. McCaslin riffed on the child’s play, repeating the words “Uh-Oh” that floated down from the balcony and generating a ripple of laughter and repetition through the crowd. Then Lindner struck, with waves upon waves of overlapping repeating sequences of electronica notes, joined by tinkling ivories reminiscent of Bob Geldof’s “I don’t like Mondays.”

They received a standing ovation, and played an encore of two more pieces of splendor. Joy was in the house.

As you may have noticed, I had a lot of fun dressing in homage to Bowie.

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