Week of March 28, 2007, Issue #597
COVER
Learn how to speak up by not speaking at all
‘Silent” is not a word that is used to describe Edmonton City Councillor Michael Phair all that often. The long-time local politician has been one of the most visible and vocal members of the city’s GLBTQ population and is often called upon to speak on behalf of the community to the media or to appear at a variety of public events. This Friday, however, Phair, along with a host of other Edmontonians, will be a little quieter than usual. He will be participating in the Day of Silence, not talking at all throughout the day to represent the oppression faced by the many GLBTQ people worldwide who are forced to keep their sexuality a quiet secret. And he won’t be alone: the event, which has been held on the University of Alberta campus for the last five years, will this year be a city-wide campaign, with members of the GLBTQ community and their straight allies pledging to keep quiet until the symbolic “breaking of the silence” that afternoon. And even though Phair certainly couldn’t be accused of being secretive about his sexuality, he insists that even in our supposedly enlightened modern society many people are still afraid to be open about who they are. “I think that most people don’t realize that people who are hiding their sexuality are in fact silencing themselves, and that this undermines individuals and undermines their potential,” Phair explained. “I remember those days myself, even though it’s a long time ago, and I can’t believe how I hid and how confining it was for me.” Phair acknowledges that it has become easier for non-heterosexuals to be more open about their sexuality recently (“I think there have been significant changes over the last 15 years,” he said, “and I must say that I am surprised and pleased by how much things have changed.”), but he believes that this is only the beginning of full acceptance of sexual diversity, which is still so far elusive. “Although there have been a lot of really solid changes in greater society, on a personal basis there are still people in this city who can be quite homophobic and quite threatening, and we still have to deal with some of that,” he said, noting that, while discrimination on the basis of sexual orientation is now against the law, legal recognition is hollow if the attitudes of the general public do not change as well. “You have to ensure that there is social change alongside some of the legal changes that we’ve seen,” Phair continued, “and what that means in my mind is that every member of society deals with every other member of the society in ways that show respect.” That desire for a wider acceptance of the idea of respecting diverse sexuality is what compelled organizer Ryan Lomenda to make the Day of Silence—which has traditionally been held only on the U of A campus—a city-wide affair. “I realize that it is very comfortable to stay inside the bubble of campus,” admitted the U of A student. “After experiencing some tough times with my parents and realizing the struggle that it has been for my entire family to actually understand my sexuality, and seeing friends struggle with their families as well, it became very evident to me that this needed to be something the entire community could benefit from, instead of just being for a select people who are already comforted by the cushion of academia.” For Lomenda, bringing the Day of Silence to a wider audience is a way to help people who may not be members of the GLBTQ community show their support for their non-heterosexual friends and better understand the challenges they face. “For a lot of people who are participating in the event who aren’t GLBTQ—we’ll put them in the straight-but-not-narrow category—this Day of Silence gives them an opportunity to experience what it’s like to be a GLBTQ youth or a closeted gay man, having to stay quiet and not be able to express themselves,” he enthused, drawing parallels with his own experiences of keeping his sexuality a secret growing up in a conservative rural environment. “The silence really makes you sense that there’s a certain amount of distance between you and your closest friends and your family especially,” Lomenda said. “A lot of time, it manifests itself as a feeling of guilt, because you felt like you were always lying. It’s kind of paralyzing in a lot of social circumstances, and I know a lot of people experience this sense of complete social isolation.” read more...
FRONT
VuePoint
As much as a lot of people from both provinces would be loathe to admit it, there are a lot of similarities between Alberta and Québec. read more...
Where there's no smoke, there's fire, too
MURRAY SINCLAIR / murray@vueweekly.com
Vue story causes policy change at U
MURRAY SINCLAIR / murray@vueweekly.com
Gwynne Dyer / gwynne@vueweekly.com
Connie Howard / health@vueweekly.com
Darren Zenko / dispatch@vueweekly.com
David Young and TB Player / inthebox@vueweekly.com
LUKE FOSTER / totallygay@vueweekly.com
ISSUES
Do you trust the government's AIM?
For years Alberta Finance has been directly responsible for the management of the province’s various pools of money. Funds like the Alberta Heritage Trust Fund, the Local Authorities Pension Plan and the Heritage Foundation for Medical Research have all been treated as independent funds and managed directly by officials within Alberta Finance. With the introduction last week of Bill 22, however, the Alberta government is proposing to change all that by creating a new crown corporation to manage all these funds as a consolidated pool. The consolidation of all of these various endowments, pension plans and funds into what will amount to the fifth largest pool of capital in the country, worth some $70 billion, seems to make good sense. The fact that the fund, named Alberta Investment Management Corporation (AIM for short), will be run at arms length from government by a Board and professional fund managers also makes sense. For years, funds like the Ontario Teachers’ Pension Fund (OTPF) have operated in this manner and have had tremendous success leveraging their huge pools of resources into fund growth that has consistently been above average. Since being created in the early ’90s, the OTPF’s average rate of return has been 11.7 per cent—significantly above anything that the Heritage Trust Fund has ever come close to achieving. What this means is that the Government of Alberta may finally be taking to heart the reality that funds like the Alberta Heritage Trust Fund represent a legacy for the people of Alberta—that these funds are all we have left of the natural resources we have sold to date, and that if they are not invested wisely, then future generations of Albertans will never see the benefits of today’s oil and gas boom. If combined with a policy limiting the amount of resource revenue that can be spent by the government in any given year, to ensure the capital in the pool keeps growing, this could be the first positive step the government has taken toward the long-term prosperity of the province in a very long time. AIM would also have the potential, because of its size, to make a significant difference in some of the practices of corporate world in general. All it would take is for the government to build concrete ethical investment practices into the fund’s mandate. As an example, the activities and investments of the Norwegian Government Pension Fund (formerly the Petroleum Fund) are closely monitored by a Council on Ethics for the Funds, which looks at labour, environmental and other ethical practices of recipients of the fund’s investments. It was this council that, last year, recommended that the fund no longer invest in Wal-Mart Stores Inc as a result of their “serious and systemic violations of human rights and labour rights.” Norway’s finance minister said the decision was consistent with their “refusal to contribute to serious, systematic or gross violations of ethical norms in these areas through our investments in the Government Pension Fund - Global." Premier Stelmach has stated that the fund will be managed as per the best practices of other successful funds. Hopefully the Norway example will be one they look at. As always, however, the devil is in the details, and Albertans should keep a close watch on some of these details as the bill works its way through the legislative process. For example, who will be responsible for appointing the Board of Directors of AIM, and what process will be used in making those appointments? Historically, the government has used appointments such as these to reward Conservative friends and donors for loyalty and support. If the goal is to professionalize how Alberta’s investments are made, then the board of AIM must reflect this goal and remain free and clear of patronage of any type. Also, although it is crucial that AIM remain transparent and fully accountable to the elected members of the provincial legislature, it is just as important that its investment decisions remain free of political interference and influence. If not, Albertans could quickly see their heritage savings being dumped into more future Novatels and Magcans. The political power of such a corporation could be tremendous if not properly checked from the beginning. Imagine the impact of a well-timed massive influx of investment dollars into Alberta as a whole, or into certain strategic communities, in the lead-up to a provincial election. If done right, and established with an eye to ethical investments, transparency and accountability, and if the primary goal within those parameters is to maximize the safe and responsible growth of Alberta’s assets, then this could indeed be the first sign of real vision to actually come from this government. If the safeguards, checks and balances are not put into place from the start, however, then it could simply end up being one more opportunity squandered for the sake of political expedience and control. Albertans need to make their voices heard on this one to ensure the former and avoid the latter—we owe it to ourselves and the generations to come. V read more...
DISH
Discover what's at steak
My favourite surprise is when a spot off the beaten track turns out to be amazing. Less pleasant is when a reputedly great place is a culinary disappointment. Admittedly, I held high expectations when I made reservations for myself and two friends to dine at Ruth’s Chris Steak House on Friday night. I was hoping it would live up to its stellar reputation and I’m happy to say that this American steak house didn’t disappoint. I don’t often get the opportunity to eat in an atmosphere as lovely as the renovated World Trade Centre Building. When I stepped inside the main floor dining room, I was greeted by seven-metre ceilings with luscious draperies that hung from top to bottom and puddled on an understated paisley carpet. One-and-a-half-metre wide amber ceiling fixtures cast a warm glow on the white-linen clad tables and a soft gas fire flickered along the east wall. The ambiance was decadent and rich. The host escorted me to a massive private booth with oval table and high-backed benches that was tucked into a remote corner of the room. Soft jazz played in the background as I settled myself at the immaculately set table for three. Ruth’s Chris is home to a bewitching cocktail lounge as well as several dining areas that are spread over two floors. Downstairs, private functions occupied the Central dining room, the smaller Vault and the Boardroom. A bank of lockers along one wall held the private wine collections of frequent guests. Rented on a yearly basis, these lockers hold unfinished bottles or wine for future visits. A $40 corkage fee will open a private bottle in the dining room. Our server, Chris, was easy on the eyes, with his carefully trimmed beard giving that just-out-of-bed look that takes an hour to create. While I waited for my friends to arrive, he suggested a bottle of Pelligrino sparkling water ($8) and I agreed without hesitation. As he sought the water, I perused the extensive wine list and was impressed by the selection of wines by the glass. While few international regions were left aside by the wine carte, California was better represented than most. I imagined this was in homage to the eatery’s American roots. This international chain of restaurants opened in New Orleans over 40 years ago, with the purchase of Chris Steak House by entrepreneur Ruth Fertel. Best known for its corn-fed USDA prime beef, Ruth’s Chris also serves many of its original Louisiana-inspired appetizers and sides. My friends arrived a few minutes after I settled; we ordered a bottle of J Lohr Seven Oaks Cabernet Sauvignon ($45) and a plate of oysters Rockefeller ($18) before we began to wade through the menu in search of the perfect steak. The wine arrived, was corked by Chris and divided amicably among us. Vibrant and fruity with a long finish, this cabernet was a fine choice to play off our appetizers. The succulent oysters were served on the shell, drenched in warm butter, spices, and chopped sweet onion, then topped with melted cheese. They were sublimely delicious. From the impressive selection, I chose the Petit Filet with Jumbo Shrimp ($42). One friend went all out with the bone-in Cowboy Ribeye ($55),and the other decided on the Stuffed Chicken Breast ($35). Chris warned us that our steaks would be seared in an 1 800-degree oven and served on a 500-degree plate, so we promised to be careful. From the available sides, we opted to share a plate of mashed potatoes ($8), a bowl of sautéed mushrooms ($8) and an order of asparagus with Hollandaise sauce ($10). The environment was perfect for light conversation, so we comfortably sipped our wine and discussed the issues of the day until our steaks arrived sizzling on their super-heated plates. Chris passed our sides to the centre of the table. The mashed potatoes looked smooth and creamy while the giant mushrooms beckoned from their bowl and the asparagus begged to be smothered in Hollandaise. I scooped a small helping of each side dish onto my plate, then delicately forked the fluffy potatoes into my mouth. I was right: they were as light and velvety as a cirrus cloud. I could only manage a pair of the oversized mushrooms, but I overcompensated with crisp asparagus smothered in buttery Hollandaise. My two petit filets were each topped with three jumbo shrimp that were intertwined in an erotic tangle of tails. I found the shrimp to be marginally overdone and ultimately didn’t finish the last one. The steaks, however, were prepared to medium-rare perfection and melted beneath my knife like the warm butter that finished them. The epicurean within me was delighted. I sampled a small slice of my friend’s ribeye and understood what the pleasure moans from his side of the table were all about. The double stuffed chicken breast was beautifully presented and filled with creamy garlic herb cheese. In a restaurant known for its steaks, it was an admirable alternative to beef. read more...
Nepalese cooking class has the tastiest practicum
CHRISTOPHER THRALL / dish@vueweekly.com
JasON FOSTER / greathead@vueweekly.com
SNOW ZONE
Of cats and Cariboos: an epic adventure in supersized powder
There’s nothing pretentious about Cariboo Snowcat Skiing. They don’t try to woo you with fancy lodges, five-star chefs and spa packages. I’ve got nothing against that stuff, but sometimes the supersized resort or upscale heli-ski vacation (with its subsequent upscale price) just ain’t what you’re looking for. A Cariboo cat-skiing trip is the perfect antidote. Picture it like this. You’re standing atop Mica Mountain on Terry Cinnamon’s 2 000-hectare leasehold with a group of 15 hardcore riders, about to drop into a powder-choked fall line for massive face shots. There are no crowds here, no line-ups ... and nobody to poach that perfect line. There are a lot of backcountry operations in the mountains west of Jasper, but the biggest selling feature of Cinnamon’s operation is the simplest of all. It’s the riding—big white powder that suffocates as you plow through it, surfing a cherry line between gladed trees. On a single run you’ll burn up 300 to 900 metres of untracked vertical, champagne all the way. That’s something you won’t find in-bounds. Off-piste, you won’t find a more unassuming operation than Cinnamon’s either. There are no flashy signs marking the turnoff, just a pair of ski boots mounted on the family’s address marker. Despite the lack of signs, getting there is easy. From Jasper, it’s 100 kilometres west to the Highway 5/16 junction, where you can choose to go north to Prince George or bear southwest towards Valemount, Kamloops and beyond. You stay on the 16 and one kilometre later, turn left towards Tete Jaune. Cariboo is conveniently located three doors down from the Tete Jaune Lodge (tetejaunelodge.com), where you can bed down for the night comfortably and affordably. Room rates start at $55 a night for single occupancy, $75 for double, and they offer discounts for Cariboo guests. A day on the cat starts by navigating a muddy one-lane driveway down to Cinnamon’s base of operations: his basement. The family’s log home sits in the middle of a clearing, tree-lined slopes flanking it on either side. As we rolled in Cinnamon’s two eldest children were standing at the entrance to the drive waiting for the school bus. At about only seven years of age, his daughter has already been up skiing on the cat. “Have a good day,” she shouted to us, “shred some powder!” Down in the basement, Cinnamon and our two guides were handing out gear for those who needed it. To truly get the experience, a fat ski is essential—something that measures upwards of 90 cm at the waist. Cariboo rents out a selection of Atomics and CMH planks at $25 a day, if you’re not equipped with your own. Our drive to the trailhead runs into 4x4 territory, winding its way through a lumberyard into the back 40. Before loading the cat, our lead guide took us through the standard avalanche training ritual—beacon searches, how to coordinate a rescue and the finer points of digging and probing. Soon we were all piling into the cat, eager to start riding. Return time from the bottom back up to the ridge ranges from 20 to 30 minutes, depending on how high you go. At the top, our group was ecstatic to find out that instead of the predicted 30 cm of fresh, we were about to bomb a whopping 50 cm. Below that, a base several metres deep supported the newly fallen manna. Fourteen pairs of skis and one board were unloaded. Just before pushing off, I felt a sense of being lifted. It was pure adrenalin, elation and greed mixed into one giant cocktail of surging energy. And then something funny happened ... or rather, for the first few seconds, nothing happened. The top slope had only a moderate incline. The ride was soft and cushiony, smooth like I’d expected, but slow. The anticipation was killing me ... was this it? Of course it wasn’t. To enjoy good powder, you need enough vertical to get up speed. It came just over the first short rise. This was it—primo powder, steep inclines and fir trees rushing past me as I flung myself into sweeping, effortless turns. From the hollers that echoed across the run, I knew the rest of the group had found their own slices of powder paradise. We got back to the cat breathless and exhilarated. The rest of the day got better and better as we climbed higher up the mountain, each plunge a little steeper than the last. read more...
Colin Cathrea / skitips@vueweekly.com
New BC resort set for the battle of the bulge
STEVEN THRENDYLE / stevet@vueweekly.com
Whistler: big mountains, even bigger parties
HART GOLBECK / hart@vueweekly.com
How do we have more fun? Let us count the ways
COLIN CATHREA / colin@vueweekly.com
ARTS
Tim Rechner synchronizes his aesthetic world
‘I see them as a bridge between the past and future,” offers Edmonton art scene fixture Tim Rechner, regarding Empty Eyes, his solo painting debut at the Front Gallery. “People respond to my drawings more than my paintings, so I wanted to find what it was and bring that into the paintings.” Rechner’s practice is virtually synonymous with his process. A contemporary devotee of abstract expressionism, he searches out immediacy and a sort of synchrony of emotion, on paper or canvas. He’s building a visual lexicon of states of mind, suspended in a chronology of singular moments—a flipbook of feeling. He is considered, but this consideration brackets the impulse, existing in how he defines his practice while exploring the act of creation. After a yearlong residency at Harcourt House, the artist found himself without a dedicated painting space—health concerns had stopped him from using his ArtsHab apartment for that aspect of his practice, although he continued to relentlessly draw the squiggles, curves and lines that encode his creative impulse. “I went two or more months before I got my current studio, knowing this was looming,” he says. “I did drawings every day in little sketchbooks. Part of that was to stay fresh and be able to do these paintings in a short time. Strong work was needed, because it was just the paintings standing on their own. I couldn’t rely on the dynamism of a background of wallpaper. The drawings were a way to go in, ready to attack.” Prior to Empty Eyes, Rechner used drawings to heighten paintings, and vice versa, by filling up the spaces between his canvases with drawing/collage hybrids. Together they acted as an all-encompassing visual landscape, inescapable and installation-like. His new pieces have internalized this aesthetic, taking the drawings inside of themselves. The generative forms come straight from his sketchbook, mantra-like, and anchor the chaos of the underpainting and the candy colours of the other painting layers. There’s an organic grace to them, suggesting more pauses and a compounding of moments and moods onto the canvas. “I was trying to fossilize the drawing,” he emphasizes. “It’s all about the drawing and an evolution of palette. The lines are much more in front than in older work, reinforced, not sketchy or messy in any way.” V read more...
DARREN ZENKO / darren@vueweekly.com
Catfight! won't scratch your eyes out
MARY CHRISTA O'KEEFE / marychrista@vueweekly.com
FILM
Lookout finds importance of being earnest in crime-doesn't-pay drama
Don’t listen to Jackie Brown, Daniel Ocean or Thomas Crown; crime doesn’t pay, nor is it an excuse for sexy camerawork. It’s a game for fools with bruised souls who don’t understand that life is a journey over which we have no control. It’s never too late to turn back either, because the truth will always be waiting. Scott Frank writes and directs Joseph Gordon-Levitt (the androgynous teen alien from TV rerun syndicate Third Rock from the Sun) in The Lookout, a male bank heist weepie that counteracts our misguided instinctive flair for guns and green paper. Somehow it stays afloat, while staying remarkably unambiguous about its lesson. Gordon-Levitt is Chris Pratt, once an aspiring hockey player who, after a MADD-style demonstration car accident, must trudge his way through life with a serious brain injury that stalls his ability to count money and find the can opener. Between visiting the site of the accident and hanging out with his seemingly clairvoyant blind roommate (Jeff Daniels), he spends his nights cleaning a rural bank. One night, a couple of bad dudes and sexy girls befriend Chris, only to reveal their interest in involving him in a late-night robbery of his workplace; he agrees, merely because the world appears like a wasteland of lost hopes and neon crucifixes. The Lookout is to juvenile open-custody movie nights as Bob Carlisle’s “Butterfly Kisses” is to father-daughter dances at summer weddings in Alberta; it’s that easy to imagine the screenwriter’s earnest pitch. But that’s not to say that cinematic violence isn’t put to entertaining use; it’s just few and far between, while character and redemptive storytelling fills the remainder. My fondest memory of Gordon-Levitt is his early 1990’s stint on Roseanne as DJ’s boring school chum, George; he slumps around the Connor household with an adorable hung-dog look that speaks for his cryptic, well-conceived interior. More recently, he’s put these skills to use as an underdog extraordinaire, portraying quiet thugs and misfits in Manic, Brick and Mysterious Skin. As Chris, he plays the variation on a common theme like a second skin. He coasts toward each subtle outburst with an intentional dullness that channels Sal Mineo; for me, that’s a treat. Meanwhile the supporting characters are hit-and-miss, and it’s really your call. Daniels is a little smug in his uncanny ability to appear blind, but provides a unique hostage in the suspenseful climax. Matthew Goode as the gang leader is at times both menacing and arrogant, while his accomplice Bone (Greg Dunham) might have you guessing what the guy from Rush is up to these days. But make sure you arrive early, otherwise you might miss the smouldering Carla Gugino as Chris’s case worker, in what’s either a cameo or just a really small role. The Lookout is definitely on the upside of being ok; I’m just too proud to be fanatic about something so moralistic. But with the current forecast for cinematic violence being so goddamn excessive as it appears in the trailer for Grindhouse, a modest dose of fingerwagging is certainly welcome. V read more...
Fragments offers a view of the other side
BRIAN GIBSON / brian@vueweekly.com
Paul Matwychuk / moviegoer@vueweekly.com
CAROLYN NIKODYM / carolyn@vueweekly.com
It's good to make lemonade from lemons, but this is ridiculous
CAROLYN NIKODYM / carolyn@vueweekly.com
Marky Mark saves banal Shooter
JOSEF BRAUN / josef@vueweekly.com
MUSIC
Sing songs in the key of Kara Keith
Years ago, Calgary’s Kara Keith would have been what was referred to as “a great broad,” less an age designation than one of will—a certain kind of self-possession. A great broad trusted her own opinions before those of others, was racy and spirited, employed contrivances with a delighted shrug. She had a brain in her pretty little head. Today she’s tired, only minutes away from a nap, but a great broad is generally game, and so is Keith. She’s the first to point out that when she wakes, she’ll likely recant every word. Keith is the kind of person for whom a hyphen was created: child-woman, clown-sexpot, singer-songwriter. Lose your preconceptions about that last one—Keith’s weapon of choice is piano, and she has a near vaudevillian relationship with it. It’s the foil, and occasional antagonist, of her rich mellow voice and spry lyricism. Her cabaret art pop confections have always benefited from the tension of contradiction: theatricality and nakedness, humour and seriousness, danger and innocence. And they are getting weirder and more beguiling as she keeps searching out the loopy route between extremes, stiffened by a bolted-on wicked grin. A year ago, she was backed up by her Falconhawk bandmates. Nowadays, it’s a couple of the Fake Cops, with the Summerlad’s frontman sitting in on drums. New band, new songs, new name? She groans. “For now we’re going with ‘Kara Keith’, because I’m creating the project and I got in so much shit when I said we were called the ‘Tight Niggaz’. I don’t have time to think about it.” Keith does reflect on what she tries to convey musically. “I’m the voice of the opposite. Create friction, create progress.” This strident aesthetic manifesto hardly seems to fit the auteur of the breathy “Sin of 17,” from Falconhawk’s debut, in which she coos into the ear of a slightly underage boy about some Trojans. “Sexuality is such an easy place to go in rebellion,” Keith states. “At 20, we’re all horny and trying to mate. Those things subside, and there’s more intellectualism, I hope. More complexity, more of an evolution.” In a split-second, she summons back the coo. “But I’m still sexy as fuck.” V read more...
Wade into the aural landscapes of Tony Dekker's Great Lake Swimmers
MARY CHRISTA O'KEEFE / marychrista@vueweekly.com
Give us two musicians for the road
EDEN MUNRO / eden@vueweekly.com
Steven SANDOR / steven@vueweekly.com
Whitey and TB Player / quickspins@vueweekly.com
Avila finds you can't be an idle Idol
TARA ZUROWSKI / tara@vueweekly.com