baby got back
So, I've had enough of feeling like a boring Vancouverite. I'm determined to make something of this city while I'm still here, and embarked on a two-pronged cultural attack on myself this weekend.
First up: independent film with subtitles, natch.
Filmed in French and Spanish by a filmmaker from Amsterdam, the Underground Orchestra is a documentary about street musicians who play in the Paris Metro. Most of them are political refugees who can't return home and support themselves by collecting spare francs in exchange for their play. There was laughter (Beethoven is the Jim Morrision of classical music). There were tears (Mario! And his harp!). And it's playing for a few more days at the fancy, the pantsy, Vancouver International Film Centre. Go watch it with at least two of the craziest people you know, and a bunch of artsy old people.
Next: indie rock band, not from these parts
Short-haired lead singer who scolds annoying people who push aside girls and talk during the shushy songs? Adorable keyboardist in a green dress, with red curls, who smiled to herself quietly throughout the set? Bassist with a ponch? The World's Most Amazing Multi-Instrumentalist in the World (World x 2!)? A SPEAKER WEARING A TARTAN SCARF?! I'm glad the fact that I only sort-of-kind-of know one Camera Obscura song didn't stop me from going to the concert. It was quietly enthusiastic, and a pleasant way to pass a summer evening. However, girls who are physically unable to stop speaking shrilly through every single song must be bapped on the head (next time, I won't be stopped, sir). Listen to them with your favorite Scottish translator.
Finally: first win on ebay
The thrill of victory lingers on. I am flush with it. Flush, I say!
Woopwoop! Things to do! In Vancouver? You don't say.
First up: independent film with subtitles, natch.
Filmed in French and Spanish by a filmmaker from Amsterdam, the Underground Orchestra is a documentary about street musicians who play in the Paris Metro. Most of them are political refugees who can't return home and support themselves by collecting spare francs in exchange for their play. There was laughter (Beethoven is the Jim Morrision of classical music). There were tears (Mario! And his harp!). And it's playing for a few more days at the fancy, the pantsy, Vancouver International Film Centre. Go watch it with at least two of the craziest people you know, and a bunch of artsy old people.
Next: indie rock band, not from these parts
Short-haired lead singer who scolds annoying people who push aside girls and talk during the shushy songs? Adorable keyboardist in a green dress, with red curls, who smiled to herself quietly throughout the set? Bassist with a ponch? The World's Most Amazing Multi-Instrumentalist in the World (World x 2!)? A SPEAKER WEARING A TARTAN SCARF?! I'm glad the fact that I only sort-of-kind-of know one Camera Obscura song didn't stop me from going to the concert. It was quietly enthusiastic, and a pleasant way to pass a summer evening. However, girls who are physically unable to stop speaking shrilly through every single song must be bapped on the head (next time, I won't be stopped, sir). Listen to them with your favorite Scottish translator.
Finally: first win on ebay
The thrill of victory lingers on. I am flush with it. Flush, I say!
Woopwoop! Things to do! In Vancouver? You don't say.
posted by Sharon at 9:28 p.m.
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