Beth Kaplan's Blog, page 177

Macca in Vancouver!

OMG! Superfangirl here, heart beating. My beloved is somewhere in this town! Maybe if I troll all the vegetarian restaurants, I'll catch a glimpse. No small task in a hippy town like this, let me tell you. I may just have to settle for the concert on the 19th, fourth row centre. Macca, if you want a good book to read, please let me know. It's about an interesting very young woman in 1964 and her love for you and your band and the music you made. Among other things.
The legendary Paul McCartney is in ‪#‎Vancouver‬ early to film a big role in the fifth Pirates of the Caribbean movie!

Paul McCartney in Vancouver early to film role in Pirates of the CaribbeanThe fifth instalment of Pirates of the Caribbean has made a major casting addition with Sir Paul McCartney joining the company of Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom,…VANCITYBUZZ.COM
Last night, Theatre of Living, which when I was involved was called Headlines Theatre, did a fascinating evening of ... sort of theatre. Well, no, it was theatre, but without a play. Host and company co-founder David Diamond's topic was "reclaiming hope in an age of fear"; he asked three people in the audience to tell a story about a time when they had to make a hard decision with voices of fear in their heads, and we the audience chose one of the stories to delve into more deeply. We chose a First Nations woman's tale of learning that her father, who she felt had destroyed his family, was dying; should she forgive him? As the story was explored, more and more people were brought onto the stage in various roles, to present different points of view. It was done with enormous skill, no one was uncomfortable, and though the event was unquestionably enlightening and even therapeutic - several people wept - it was also entertaining. I was proud to have been involved in the beginnings of this fine company pushing for social change. David has made this his life's work, and he does it well.

This morning, across town to a class called BoingBoing with the estimable Jane Ellison, genius of the body, a dancer and movement teacher who leads these wonderful classes at the Western Front. There's a long session of stretching, exploring every inch of sinew, bone and muscle, and then my favourite part, where she puts on 3 or 4 fabulous songs and we dance, just a roomful of people flinging themselves about any which way. It's wonderful, though I do always have the faces of my children in mind, if they happened to catch a glimpse of the goings on ... it would not be pretty. But luckily they do not know and cannot see. They still make merciless fun of my dancing.

After the class and lunch with dear Margaret, who took the class too, I could hardly move. Took the bus home through the downtown East Side and was appalled - I've heard about it, knew it was bad, but have never seen anything like East Hastings - junkies lying in the street, garbage, clumps of people sleeping against buildings ... On the bus was the saddest transsexual hooker, skinny and barely clothed in excruciating high-heels, a blonde Carol Channing wig and false eyelashes, falling asleep in her seat. And then the bus moved into the downtown core, back to the Lamborghinis and Holt Renfew, people wearing workout clothes carrying many shopping bags and staring at cellphones. Two of the circles of Hell. Surreal.

(A recent New Yorker cartoon - the circles of Hell and at the bottom, devils with backhoes digging deeper, with a sign reading, "Coming soon: Trump Circle." Have you seen Barry Blitt's current New Yorker cover of Trump's short-fingered hand? Searing and hilarious, as usual.)

Now to Chris's. He baked a cake in his baking class yesterday and is desperate to share it. It's a tough job but someone's got to do it. There will be champagne.

April heat

Friday - Vancouver's West End beach, sunbathing on April 1.
Chris's extra-terrestrial cat Leon in his cosy perch - the only cat I know who actually USES one
Walking home last night after supper - outside Bruce's house.

A friend wrote asking about all the champagne. Chris never drank booze; he lives on diet Coke (ugh) and his other drug was grass. Then he discovered champagne, the only alcohol he likes. So for the first time in our 40 year friendship, we can drink together. Such fun.
Kits Beach on April 2
Beach volleyball. The first week of April! I do have to say that apparently even the Vancouverites are marvelling at the heat; some of the trees are weeks ahead in blooming....
...like the magnolias. 
Today I worked in the morning and got the tiny $2 ferry over to Kits Point, walked along 4th Avenue which used to be hippy paradise and is now high end - my, what a lot of medical marijuana there is in Vancouver, every second store, far ahead of Ontario. Had lunch at an old hippy hangout, however - Naam restaurant, which was there in my day - with old friend Kathryn Shaw, in the 70's the director of several of the plays I was in. We had much catching up to do.
Tonight, to Theatre of the Living, an adjunct of Headlines Theatre of which I was co-founder in 1980. David Diamond, another co-founder, has continued ever since with the company, and I'll see him perform tonight. A major re-immersion into my acting life. Love it. 

paradise in Lalaland

Just when I thought the day couldn't get any better, I climbed aboard the tiny ferry shuttle from Granville Island back to the West End and gave the ferryman $2 - the senior's rate. "Hey, April Fool's is over," he said. "I need to see your birth certificate."

HA! I know he was joking, but still, it made my day, and it had already been a day from heaven.

Worked all yesterday afternoon and evening, and then got up this morning and worked, no distractions, no phone calls, no radio, just me in Bruce's sunny aerie with my words and my tiny mind. Heaven, I tell you. I am editing the manuscript of the new memoir. It's there, it exists and has something to say, it needs work, but there are 73,000 words of something.

Stopped at noon, the day too stunning to stay inside, walked along the water to the ferry and went to Granville Island, one of my favourite places on earth, to meander around and buy some groceries - bread, smoked salmon, wonderful soup from the Stock Market; sat by the water with the seagulls and had a latte and a scone, then home. I'll go out again now and walk, then later, to Chris's for champagne and out for dinner. I have contacted other old friends whom I'll be seeing soon, my son leaves soon for his prize-winning week in Barbados, I had a FaceTime call with Eli yesterday, the sun is glittering on the water, my manuscript is not complete junk, and life is about as good as it gets. Right here, right now. Thank you.

This city! On a day like this, there's nowhere better. People are sunbathing on the beach, the place jammed with skateboarders, bladers, bikers, sailboats, kayakers, joggers, a million joggers. There are, however, also a disturbing number of homeless people, especially young people, lining every street with their dogs and their packs, begging. And a disturbing number of extremely expensive cars flashing past them.

Here's a very serious article about the early career of Rachmaninoff, with some powerfully authentic pictures of the great composer. Don't miss this!
New Research Reveals Rachmaninoff's Secret Careerhttp://www.npr.org/sections/deceptivecadence/2016/04/01/472292565/new-research-reveals-rachmaninoffs-secret-career?utm_source=npr_newsletter&utm_medium=email&utm_content=20160401&utm_campaign=npr_email_a_friend&utm_term=storyshare

And a Guardian article, not as funny, called "Here's an image of what a progressive Britain could be - it's called Canada." Who knew we were so cool? Yay!
http://gu.com/p/4t2aq/sbl 

"Good People" and Van Dusen Botanical Gardens

As I walked back to Bruce's an hour ago, a woman came out of her apartment building with her little dog. "It's here!" she exclaimed. "Can't you just feel it? It's here." What she meant is summer. It's March 31, and in Vancouver, it's summer - 17 degrees. Chris got out his shorts. The man downstairs was bare-chested in the sun. Everyone is gardening. It's hot and glorious. Lucky moi.

But my dear friend is trying to kill me. I knew it'd be a test; his hobbies are cooking and walking, both of which he does for hours a day. He can walk for five hours with no problem. I'm not unfit, but in comparison with him, I'm a mushy wimp. Today, we walked from his place in the West End to the Van Dusen Botanical Gardens, an hour uphill in the sun. By the time we got there, I was hot and bushed, so we had lunch and then explored this gorgeous place.
 View as we crossed the Granville Street bridge
The Van Dusen Gardens: cascades of cherry blossoms, magnolias, azaleas, rhodos. Stunning.
 The daffs are nearly finished; these are the last few. Look at that moss. The greens are spectacular.

My energizer bunny companion in his shorts. After our visit, I took my weary legs home by bus. He stayed to commune more with the garden and then walk home. Amazing man.

Last night I went to the opening of "Good People," an Arts Club production at the Stanley, a grand old theatre. Oh it was like old home week in the lobby, all kinds of theatre people I haven't seen for decades, actors - Peter Anderson, one of the best actors in the country - directors, designers, former boyfriends, several people I did a cross-country, months-long tour with and know MUCH too well. The play is extremely good - about how much luck is needed for people from poor neighbourhoods to get out of them - and the production excellent too. A treat; enjoyed every minute.

Chatted with old friend Bill Millerd, the artistic director of the Arts Club who now runs just about every theatre in this town. As we talked, I was very glad that now, I do not need anything from him - not a job, not recognition, nothing. It was not always so.

Vancouver bliss

What a city - in the sun, there's nowhere like it. There are two huge sailboat going by right now, white sails billowing, seabirds calling, fresh winds blowing and the colours of spring everywhere. I love it.

But as I walk around - today, downtown, yesterday, with Chris, walking around False Creek to the East End - I have no idea where I am, everything has changed so much. I moved away in 1983, and now the place is unrecognizable. But gorgeous, if extremely expensive. Just read an article in the New Yorker about Chinese billionaires snapping up property in Vancouver so their children can go to school, work and live here. And that over-the-top wealth is visible all over the city. Luckily, a few paupers from the theatre have managed to hang onto their homes.

Yesterday, Chris and I met at 4 for champagne in his bright, tiny, exquisitely tasteful apartment, where he has refinished every detail, including walls of Carrera marble, a designer fishtank and a blonde cat who matches the pine floor.
 And then we walked by the water, had a quick bite and went to the theatre.
We saw a new musical, Onegin, based on the Pushkin poem and the opera by Tchaikovsky. At first, I resisted - it was wild and crazy, all over the place in style, content and music. But by the second act, I marvelled at the energy, commitment and courage of the actors and the power of the piece. Those Russians - such drama! And this group has talent to burn, including a singer-actor called Alessandro Juliani, whose father, John Juliani, a producer at the CBC, hired me in the Seventies for several radio jobs. He died some years ago but has left a great legacy in his handsome, talented son, who has won five Jessie awards.

Today Chrissie is busy and I walked downtown and around and back. Later, more champagne with him, then I'm going to an Arts Club opening at the new Stanley Theatre, which I've never seen. Last night we ran into Bernard Cuffling, an actor who has worked in this city for decades and who, amazingly, knew me right away, though when we last met, I was 31. I am re-immersing myself in a past life, my theatre life; that's what I'm here for. One reason, anyway. The other is simply looking out the window.

seawall

The Stanley Park seawall is 9 kilometres of gorgeousness, and Chris and I walked it yesterday, jabbering the whole way as is our wont. I stopped to admire a thick bent cedar which it turned out is one of his favourite trees too. We are soulmates. Despite the fact that he's a lunatic and I am wise and serene, we are soulmates.
And we saw a man swimming. I was wearing my usual 12 layers, the air was chilly despite the sun and the water was freezing, but he was swimming.
A gourmet lunch at Chris's - leftovers from our gourmet dinner, he is such a good cook! - and then home to rest before going out to feast again, this time with old friends Margaret and Roy. As a special treat, Allison and Monty and their daughter Claire were there too. Allison was the designer for the Arts Club Theatre while I worked there - she's designing there still - so we go back 40 years as colleagues and friends. Allison's other daughter has two young sons. Since we last met, impossible as it is to believe, we've both turned into grandmothers. I know. Surreal.
Today, R and R - which includes practicing on Bruce's piano - until meeting up soon with Chris; he is making challah specially for our aperitif - champagne and challah - and then out for a Lebanese meal before the theatre tonight. How much more of this can I stand? How soon before I have to buy a pair of much larger pants? 
Here's my new favourite word - can't get enough apricity:apricityPRONUNCIATION:(a-PRIS-i-tee) 
MEANING:noun: Warmth of the sun; basking in the sun.
ETYMOLOGY:From Latin apricari (to bask in the sun). Earliest documented use: 1623.
USAGE:“As he stood in the sunshine, apricity began to cover him like a wool sweater.”
Ryan Patrick Sullivan; Mrs. O’Leary’s Cow; Trafford; 2014.

7.30 a.m. Easter Monday

Perhaps I will tire eventually of the view from Bruce's armchair. But I doubt it.

This morning Chris and I are going to walk the seawall, and tonight, dinner with Margaret and other old friends. It's a hard life. Just checked FB - my kids, alive and well, what joy. And got this email from my tenant Carol; last term's student, Mimi, had bought a copy of "Finding the Jewish Shakespeare" for her mother...

Mimi picked up her new copy of The Jewish Shakespeare for her mother to give her uncle. He wanted to borrow her copy of the book, but she would not relinquish it. Mimi's mother is 95 and she is enchanted by the story of Jacob Gordin. Her own mother used to tell her stories about him and she says the book fills gaps and links her memory to new information. She is especially impressed by the extensive research that went into the book.

settling in

It's 10 p.m. Easter Sunday, and I am finally here. The rigid tendons in my neck are loosening. It was a busy week, finishing work, packing, saying goodbye, getting out of the house, flying to Vancouver, landing at Bruce's just long enough to get the keys, then off to Victoria to visit Lani for 3 days, then back here. The weather has been iffy, often very wet and chilly. There were lots of things to sort out, like the internet vanishing yesterday.

It reminded me of last year at this time, when I landed in Paris - not to my beloved sunny little haunt on the Left Bank, which had been sold, but to a friend of a friend's in the 13th - a noisy charmless apartment with no internet, and the city blanketed in the same wet chill. A miserable few days of solitude and angst. And then the sun began to shine and I figured out how to live there. It didn't take nearly as long here - I know Vancouver and have dear friends, and Bruce's comfortable place is in a glorious location. It's just not home. But that's the whole point. I forget that point, sometimes.

It's spring here - magnolias, bougainvillea, the delicate green of trees, even what look like bushes covered with exploding fat roses that turned out to be camellias - all at least six weeks ahead of Toronto. I'm right on the water, and there's the fresh smell of ocean everywhere, and mountains. It's a wonderful city, and I'm right in the middle of it, and I'm very happy to be here.
Last night was fascinating with Chris, one of my oldest and dearest friends. Those of you who follow his blog to the left know that he has been having trouble with his voice, sometimes losing it completely. But he has discovered that if he speaks in an accent, he can talk. And the accent he does best is South African. So now, you're not in conversation with Chris but with a character we call Roux (from kangaroo) who speaks in a thick South African accent. No one ever said Chris was dull, but now he's actually someone else! Always something new.

It was sunny but very windy today, so we didn't walk the seawall, we took a long walk over the Cambie Street bridge to do some errands and have lunch - more seafood chowder for me, I'm living on the stuff - and then we walked back. It's a special treat to spend lots of time with this man who has been my best friend since we met in 1976. Even if he does sound like he's just flown in from Johannesburg.

the Trudeaus travel

Two reflections on politics - one ours in Canada, today - is this a dream? - and the other about our friends south of the border.
Is it possible he used the trendy word 'narcissistic' in 1920? In any case, how right he was. Unfortunately.
And on the other hand ... the Trudeau family on their way to Fogo, Newfoundland, for the Easter weekend.

back in Van

A wonderful journey yesterday to the ferry, across the water - sitting on deck which was cold but sunny and so beautiful - then the bus to downtown Vancouver and home to Bruce's. And there - crisis, I could not get the internet to work. I was an addict suffering painful withdrawal. Luckily, there was a dinner at Chris's to go to, so brought my computer and had my fix. We had a superb meal, every dish from Yotam Ottolenghi, each more intricate and delicious than the last, and a reunion with old friend and fellow actor Allan Gray and his partner Larry. MUCH theatre talk. It was all beyond delicious. And this morning, I figured out the (very simple) problem and am back on-line. I will survive. 
A man and his dog - Maurice and Bourbon, just before my departure yesterday.
A man and his cat - Chris's elegant apartment and Leon