Françoise Sullivan was born here and studied dance in New York in the 1940s before returning to work in Quebec where she became a leading figure in the visual arts. Marisol is a multidisciplinary artist of Venezuelan origin who lived in New York in the 1960s. If they did not cross paths in their professional lives, the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts provokes an encounter by presenting two retrospectives of their work, two different exhibitions which nevertheless strike common chords. I knew nothing about Marisol and I had the impression of having seen everything about Françoise Sullivan: in both cases, there was a lot to learn, to discover, to dissect. Two very great artists who will never stop surprising us.
As luck would have it, I was in Quebec for another assignment last Monday, July 17. However, this date will remain forever inscribed in my memory. Called at the last moment to cover the Cowboys Fringants show, I found myself at the heart of a manifestation of collective emotion that I had never been able to experience. When Karl Tremblay sat down to regain his strength before singing the now unforgettable On my shoulder, when his lover Marie-Annick Lépine leaned over him to kiss him, the warm summer atmosphere suddenly found itself carrying an emotional charge that arose in the hearts of the 90,000 people present on the Plains. I went down into the crowd to share the moment, a striking mix of melancholy, sadness and love for this man, despite himself being larger than life.
Speculation was rife, Bob Dylan having made a habit in recent months of offering his audience a cover by an artist from the city where he was. Would he play that Sunday evening, at the Salle Wifrid-Pelletier, a song by one of his comrades whose writing he was most jealous of? The answer would come towards the end of his blessed October 29 concert, in the form of a luminous reworking of Dance Me to the End of Love, his first rendition of a Leonard Cohen classic since his version of Hallelujah at the Forum, in 1988. Excuse the tired formula, which has never been more true, since all spectators had to put their smartphone in a locked pouch: you had to be there.
By bringing together five plays from Shakespeare’s Roman cycle in Rome, presented at Usine C in Montreal, as well as at the NAC French Theater in Ottawa, Brigitte Haentjens and Jean Marc Dalpé bet that the theater remains the ideal place for illustrate the megalomania of men of power and the paradoxes of democracy. Beyond its duration (7 hours 30 minutes) and its imposing cast (nearly 30 performers), this epic show is above all a magnificent theatrical and human experience. A historical epic that makes us think about the excesses of present times.
I admit that I doubted that the spectators would get up to dance during -M-‘s appearance at the Salle Wilfrid-Pelletier as part of the Francos in June. I even told him this in an interview in his dressing room, a few hours before the first of his two shows in Montreal. “The seats are really comfortable, huh? “, replied the French singer, smiling. I then wanted to reassure him (I don’t know why) by telling him that even if people stayed seated, the concert would be good. He nodded before leaving a short silence. “They’ll get up,” he said knowingly. He was right, of course. As soon as the singer-songwriter-entertainer arrived on stage, the huge PDA room burst into flames. It only took a few signature guitar riffs to get the crowd on their feet, and after three songs, it already felt like the mood had reached its peak. But the high level of happiness and pleasure never went down, and the spectators remained on their feet dancing and singing until the very end, two hours later. We had known for a long time that he had showmanship, but Mathieu Chedid gave a great lesson in generosity that evening by distributing love and music without counting. It was an unforgettable moment of pure shared joy: it will teach me to doubt -M-.
His exhibition Réenchantment really lives up to its name. Focusing on Carol Wainio’s enchanting landscapes, we find here and there characters from popular tales like Tom Thumb or Puss in Boots. In fact, the Ontario painter’s large paintings address a host of themes that evoke both grandeur and decadence, the beauty of nature and the climate crisis that threatens it, the hope embodied by children at the same time as their loss of bearings and their abandonment… There are a thousand possible interpretations of these paintings, both expressionist and figurative, dark and luminous. One of the most interesting exhibitions of the fall.
I discovered Karkwa late in high school, several years after the band had announced it was taking an indefinite hiatus. I experienced his premature departure as an injustice, even if I had plunged into his musical universe with full knowledge of the facts. Tell you, therefore, my joy when the first notes of Pyromane rang out in a packed MTelus, just a few days ago. Among the long-time admirers, we were hundreds of young people who met the quintet for the first time, with stars in their eyes. On stage, the five musicians were generous, making up for lost time by drawing heavily from their first albums – there was something almost therapeutic about singing The Cold Shoulder or 28 Days at the top of their lungs. According to my colleague Alexandre Vigneault, it was by far Karkwa’s best concert. I have no point of comparison, but I have no trouble believing it…
Only Built 4 Cuban Linx…, released in 1995 by Raekwon, is my favorite album of all time. My GOAT, as young people say when they express their affection for an artist, an athlete, a sandwich… On October 2, Raekwon and all the other members of the Wu-Tang Clan as well as Nas were gathered at Bell Place. In an evening full of memorable moments, my highlight came during the first transition on stage between the group of 10 rappers and the Queensbridge MC. Nas came out of the shadows to sing the first and brilliant verse of Verbal Intercourse, the only Cuban Linx song that includes a guest from outside the Clan. Raekwon and Ghostface Killah then delivered theirs with panache, the equivalent for me of the icing on the sundae.
My musical moment of the year was experienced at Place des Arts, where I notably spent wonderful evenings with Robert Plant and Alison Krauss, Melody Gardot and Avishai Cohen during the Montreal International Jazz Festival. However, my heart is torn between Natalia Lafourcade, from Mexico, at the Maison Symphonique, and Marisa Monte, from Brazil, at the Théâtre Maisonneuve. Nunca Es Suficiente was my song of the summer, to the point where I wanted to learn how to play and sing it. Spotify, however, reminds me that Marisa Monte is the artist I listened to the most in 2023. So I choose her for her fabulous entrance on stage – wearing her tiara, she looked like a goddess – and for this generous concert, full of joy. She beamed on stage. We too in front of her.
Last year, we attended the very first show bringing together Ariane Roy, Thierry Larose and Lou-Adriane Cassidy on the Francos stage. The improved theatrical version, presented in the fall, was our big favorite of the year, by far. The King, the Rose and the Lou[p] is a musical epic unlike any other, thought out with audacity and inventiveness, bringing together talents and styles that complement each other wonderfully. We are not served the obvious songs, we rather present a succession of pieces taken from the three repertoires, brilliantly arranged, delivered with enthusiasm or gently, with several voices or solo, but always in this feeling of communion, between the members of the band on stage and with the audience. Let’s also point out that the seven musicians who accompany the trio are brilliant. In short, nothing is missing from this show which stayed in our heads long after our evening at Club Soda in Montreal. The 10-date tour in the province ended at the end of November, but, fortunately, the Roy, the Rose and the Lou[p] will take the Francos stage again next summer. We will definitely be there.
