P.S. Kensington, I love you

On the last Sunday of every summer month, Toronto’s Kensington Market has it’s “Pedestrian Sunday” mini festivals, where the streets are closed to cars (and bikes) and people congregate on the roadways for street performers, musicians and loads of amazing food. I ventured to the first one of 2010 and took a handful of photos… I was spending too much of my time enjoying the sun and the atmosphere!

The photo of this next guy, Alex, is from the band “The Haret,” and he was playing a modified stand-up bass that he was playing with his feet.

More than just fish in Reykjavik, Iceland

Technically our first meal in Reykjavik was at our Hotel, Thingholt, which was usual breakfast fare (eggs, bacon, potatoes, croissants, bread, cereal, etc) and nothing worth noting down. We were barely awake when we got up in time for breakfast, and I don’t remember much about it. So on our first day, we sauntered down Laugavegur and to our surprise, that Thursday was a holiday, and everything was closed… except for this little lunch spot, “Mmmmm…” which was a nice homey style place with a stark white decor. I had fried chicken, which was tasty.

Our first night, we didn’t go fancy, but we did go to one of the best restaurants in Reykjavik, “Icelandic Fish and Chips.” The name says it all… they have an extensive selection of fresh fish, and are located right beside the harbour.

I’m not one for Crepes, but I went for the plunge at Kofi Tomasar Frænda, which was another cafe near our hotel. It was also amazing.

According to our cab driver from the airport, the best lamb stew in all of Iceland is available at the Gullfoss rest stop near the waterfall, and he was completely right. They didn’t have “take away” containers, so we got our stew in coffee cups… it was totally worth holding up the tour bus.

Over the course of our stay in Reykjavik, I had many, many lattes and americanos at Mokka Kaffi, the first place in Iceland to install an espresso machine decades ago.

Besides fish, the best thing you can get in Iceland is a hotdog (called a Pylsur). These babies are “healthy,” made from ground lamb and pork, and pretty cheap (which is great, because you’ll want more than one at a time). When you get it with everything on it, the mustard/gravy combo is perfect, with a crunchy layer of onions underneath the dog. There’s one very popular place in Reykjavik, Bæjarins Beztu Pylsur, which we visited several times.

The best meal we had in Reykjavik, was the much hyped “Dill” restaurant, located in the Nordic House, just outside the city centre, near the university. As you can see, they serve a contemporary cuisine with many courses, and each one was surprising and complicated. This is the “can’t miss” restaurant of Reykjavik, and for the style and quality served, it’s an amazing deal cost-wise, especially considering the price would be over double in NYC or Toronto.

Back to reality, I adopted local haunt Prikid as my Scandinavian Java House spot, and enjoyed their easy going take on “regular” food (basically, as a not lover of fish, I was ready for a burger… any kind of burger). I followed this lunch up with their specialty desert, the “Bruce Willis” milkshake, which has caramel, two shots of espresso and two shots of Jack Daniels.

Second last lunch was at “Scandinavian” restaurant in downtown Reykjavik, and I had this nice little Danish style roast beef sandwich.

Finally, the last “great” dinner of our trip was with our new British friends Jim and Zoe at Fish Market in downtown Reykjavik. Someone had heard that the lobster dishes were to die for, and whoever said that were right. However, I went for the mountain lamb, which was also quite satisfying.

And then finally, the last meal in Reykjavik was back at Prikid, where I had this “California Love” chicken sandwich, while watching the traffic pass by under our window.

You can’t be an anarchist and ask permission

And with one question from the audience during the Q&A following the world premiere of “Our House” at Toronto’s Hot Docs festival, someone popped the bubble.

The question in particular explicitly revealed that the anarchist Christians running their own illegal homeless shelter in Williamsburg had complicit permission in using their building from the owner: not exactly the definition of “squatting” like the description of “Our House” promised, and not very “anarchistic” either. Christian? Sure.

But I’m getting ahead of myself: “Our House” is a short documentary about a few young men who decide to operate their own homeless outreach community in an abandoned Williamsburg warehouse. They’re vegan, Christians, dread-locked punk rockers with plugs in their ears and pray inside a heated “love tent.” (I’m sure they are inspired by Shane Claiborne’s “The Irresistible Revolution,” but that’s never expressed in the film).

For non-religious types, they probably saw this film as a sad period piece about (barely) pre-gentrification W-burg, and the relationship communities have with their physical homes. As a Christian, I found the film to be extremely inspiring, watching these guys attempt to live alongside the suffering street people stuck in endless cycles of anger, drugs and crime. They prayed openly and intimately inside their “love tent,” often embracing afterwards: I wish I had that kind of spiritual connection to others when I finished praying alongside them. Maybe Grace Toronto should erect it’s own “love tent” for prayer meetings.

I don’t know if anybody is shocked by the dread-locked punk rocker aspect of the Christians in the movies: Christian punk is fairly mainstream, and while these guys looked pretty edgy on screen, they really don’t look much different than the kids who come home from Christian wakeboarding camps at the end of the summer.

I could also be desensitized to the image of weirdo hardcore Christians: I’ll admit to being one myself (both a Christian and a weirdo), as I have attended late night punk shows at the Bohemian Penguin in Belleville shouting along to a hardcore version of “Our God is an Awesome God” and have paid witness to Belleville’s own dreadlocked baptist rastafarian, Jah Pickney.

As for the Christian Anarchy angle of the movie, I’m afraid that it’s under-represented in the documentary as well. I was disappointed with that because I do have a few “Christian Anarchy” books on my shelf, and was looking for an interesting portrayal of this fringe denomination on screen. Maybe I’ll save it for my own documentary someday.

Click here to watch a trailer for “Our House”

Because it doesn’t matter if “Exit Through the Gift Shop” is real or not

Art (“Art”) is a the centre of “Exit Through the Gift Shop,” the film by street artist(s) Banksy, a screen version of his famed art installations that works on multiple levels, working mystery and comedy together, without ever really committing to one big singular idea.

The film’s conceit is that it tells the story of camera-man Thierry Guetta, who thanks to his cousin “Space Invader,” falls totally in love with the street art scene, and along the way documents and befriends Shepard Fairey (“Obey” and “Hope” signs guy) and Banksy, before turning into a street artist himself, “Mr. Brainwash.”

At the end of the film “Mr. Brainwash,” despite creating totally shallow and vapid “art” (Spraypaint Campell’s Soup can), becomes “more popular” than Banksy and Fairey after mounting a truly massive art show on a vacant CBS lot six months into his art career.

By the film’s last quarter, Fairey and Bansky’s admiration of Guetta as a cameraman (or “documentarian” as he bills himself — despite never making a documentary ever), turns into tragic disdain as he mounts a show with no meaning whatsoever, with art mainly created by a crew of talented, uncredited artists. Banksy quips that he used to encourage everyone to make art, but since suggesting that to Guetta, he doesn’t do that anymore.

Ultimately, if you couldn’t tell by the title of the film, this movie is essentially about “selling out,” “cashing in,” and the upside down world of the modern art industry. Guetta, who duped Los Angelinos (like Beck!) into buying designer/vintage clothes by turning a $50 bulk pile of duds into $5000 worth of hipster wear, unwittingly becomes the same sort of art savant shyster by the film’s end, bilking “art fanatics” into buying over a million dollars of impossibly derivative art at his first show (to be fair, the fans were attracted by promotional quotes from Banksy and Fairey).

On that level alone, the surface level, the documentary is pretty straightforward and just plain works.

But with a couple mysterious tricksters behind the film, you feel like you just can’t take “Exit” for what it is, which is why so many conspiracy theories have begun to emerge around the flick. Suggestions range from “Mr. Brainwash” being a construct/collaboration between Fairey and Banksy, “Guetta” actually being Banksy in disguise or the whole film being a construct my mind-melting director Spike Jonze.

The conspiracy arguments are fair, because the dramatic irony of Guetta’s journey is just too rich that it must be scripted. Banksy even obliquely admits it in this “Wired” article, where he comments on how Guetta more or less trespasses into the art world the same way he trespassed into the street art world as a videographer (which ironically, the original street artists trespass on private property to produce their own art. But I digress…)

Why would Banksy and Fairey construct a film/persona like Mr. Brainwash then? It could be a guilty reaction against their own hype/success, which has turned their art into crass commercialism (there’s a lot of “Obey” t-shirts out there).

Important clues from the film worth thinking about: Fairey talking about his “Obey” logos, which essentially don’t mean anything, then they are seen anywhere and are talked about and gain power, Banksy showing off his collection of counterfeit bills that he can’t distribute, the unreal awfulness of “Life Remote Control,” the plain suburban art collector with an original Warhol in her closet.

Either way, if the documentary is “real” or “fake,” the film’s message about the shifty nature of art celebrity and success doesn’t change, even if “Mr. Brainwash” is a sham. I think the creators of film want audiences to push back against all forms of art; both the hyped “celebrities” like Banksy and the unknown street artists imitating Banksy. By showing (or perhaps being) an elaborate sham, I think they simply want audiences to be more critical, and if anything, pay more attention to everything else BUT the elephant in the room.

As a post-script, I hope that Banksy never reveals himself… we’re richer having the mythology than just finding out it’s just some guy from some art school. To me, it’s like “Godspeed You Black Emperor!” and the mythology they built up: I never really ever want to see their photographs, or see them interviewed on Muchmusic or something, and whatever I have built up in my head about who they are will always be more interesting and gratifying than what they are: musicians.

Explaining tattoos

Overall, I’m a pretty private/introverted kind of guy, so I’ve always been a little uncomfortable with showing, talking about, and explaining my tattoos. I get the irony that I’m fine with getting “statement” body modification filled with symbolism and text, but uneasy about verbalizing “WHAT IT MEANS.” I think it’s because I usually feel caught off guard when people ask, and when I’m unprepared, I’m not ready to make that super cool, super deep explanation which I think is the kind of answer people are looking for.

In some ways, explaining tattoos is kind of like analyzing song lyrics when they are examined on their own, away from the music: it sounds dumb, or cliched, unmoving and trite. Of course, add melody to lyrics, and the meanings grow and deepen…

So with that said, here goes.

Tattoo #4: The circle drawings by Matt Durant

The newest tattoo is located on my right fore-arm, underneath my early Tattoo #2, “By the Grace of God I am what I am.” It was designed by local Toronto painter Matt Durant, whose work I’ve seen exhibited in a few east end hangouts, and I’ve grown to really love. I reached out to Matt, asking if he would design something for me, and he graciously agreed, and provided me with the artwork. I’ve been “living with” the artwork for a while, and finally the right time opened up to do it. I returned to Adrenaline on Queen Street West in Toronto, after making a few modifications to the design at their request, in order to make it more “tattoo” friendly. I also had to go to one of the best guys in the shop, as most of the artists seemed to be intimidated by doing circles. However, I was expertly drawn on by “Pido” from Bogata, and the work turned out great.

So what does it mean? Simply, I find myself identifying with the artwork: It’s simple, unique, messy and vibrant. As I continue my own self discovery, I found identity in the artwork, and it serves as a reflective reminder of who I think I am, and the kind of person I want to continue to be. It also goes with the quote from scripture, in that it reminds me that whatever my identity is, it is a purposeful identity, even if I’m not exactly sure why.