4.11.2021

we movie to canada: wmtc annual movie awards, 2020-21 edition

Like everyone in the time of Covid, I'm watching a lot! I'm also reading a lot and walking more than ever, so I have zero qualms about an increase in screen time. 

The annual recap has started to use too much real estate, so this year, I'm putting it at the end of the post. 

Last year I used đź’‰ -- the syringe -- as the rating symbol. This year I'll use perhaps the most enduring symbol of the pandemic: the mask. 

There are some viewing themes this year, as we completed The Guardian Top 10 Noir Film list, and I became interested in the modern western genre.

Also, since I now see movies much closer to their release dates (because I'm not watching baseball), I'm noting the best movies of the year.

* * * * *

Here are the movies and series I watched from April 2020 to April 2021, alphabetically, ranked on a scale of five. 
Five = the very best and most memorable of what I saw, flawless (fives include images)
Four = excellent, a real stand-out, not to be missed
Three = good, solid, worthwhile
Two = something kept this from being completely horrible
One = crap

A Confession

A solid little detective series. It would be better if Martin Freeman were a better actor.

The Abolitionists

This three-part series was originally a PBS "American Experience". Those documentaries are consistently excellent, and this was no exception. It drives home the extreme danger faced by everyone in the anti-slavery movement, and how utterly vast and hopeless their cause often seemed. History both chilling and stirring.

Alex Wheatle (Small Axe #4) (Best of 2020)

Similar to the work of Ken Loach, the Small Axe films have a deeply authentic feel, an immediacy that seems to transcend fiction. The personal is always profoundly political. This one follows the development of writer and activist Alex Wheatle, through the 1980s Brixton riots, imprisonment, and self-discovery. See all five films in order.

All In My Family

A lovely little autobiographical documentary about a gay Chinese-American couple raising two children, and how they deal with their traditional family's response. The filmmaker's surprising point of view makes the film unusual and thought-provoking. 

The Assistant (Best of 2020)

Spend a day with the junior assistant to a powerful media boss, and witness the insidious, near-constant abuse that's as integral to her job as her phone and computer. Parts of this movie are almost too painful to watch -- especially when you consider that filmmaker Kitty Green interviewed about 100 assistants who had worked for Harvey Weinstein's production company. One of the most powerful movies I have seen in a long time.

Away

This show about the first humans to work on Mars was interesting and thoughtful, until it turned into a soap opera with a space-mission background.

Ball of Fire (1941)

A hilarious, ridiculous screwball comedy, full of laughs and more than a little social commentary. It includes this priceless line, as someone looks down the the cheeky dame's throat to see if she's sick: "It's as red as the Daily Worker and just as sore!"

The Bay S1

Another good British detective show. Doesn't break any new ground, but so far so good.

The Big Sleep (1946)
(Guardian Top 10 Film Noir #1 pick)

A Howard Hawks adaptation of a Raymond Chandler novel, a script co-written by William Faulkner, starring real-life couple Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. What could be better? Not much, actually. I've been an avid Humphrey Bogart fan since around age 10, and I love that these films have held up for me.

The Blacklist

The show features plot holes a cast of thousands can walk through, and it won't stand up to reality testing. But Raymond Reddington may be the greatest anti-hero of all time, and I'm kind of in love with him. With storylines that are constantly doing backflips, a killer soundtrack, and the best collection of secondary characters I've ever seen -- who doesn't love Dembé and Mr. Kaplan? -- I find this show irresistible.

Blood Simple (1984) (Guardian Top 10 Film Noir)

Not sure how we missed this in the 80s, but thank you to The Guardian for turning us on to the Coen Brothers' debut (also the feature-film debut of Frances McDormand). An absolute corker of a noir -- harrowing, suspenseful, with a sickening sense of foreboding that never ends.

The Bodyguard S1

Police-detective meets paranoid thriller in this above-average series. 

Borat Subsequent Moviefilm

Exactly what you expect from a Borat film: some uneven but great laughs, at least one hideous, hilarious gross-out scene, and dead-on social commentary. Fun!

Broad City S1 only

Smart, funny comedy, plus NYC. It didn't hold up in S2, but the first season was fun.

Caché / Hidden (2005) (Guardian top 10 crime films)

This strange film has all the hallmarks of a suspenseful thriller, but the baffling ending -- or non-ending -- ruined it for me. Roger Ebert had to watch it three times before he understood the ending. It's difficult for me to see that as a valid artistic choice.

Cake

I love a good redemption story. This exploration of anger and grief, told with dark humour, is moving and compelling. Jennifer Aniston's performance is impressive.

Captain Fantastic

A surprisingly complex family story -- a coming-of-age for an entire family. The descriptions online give too much away. Sweet, sad, uplifting, but not sentimental.

The Capture

I love to read a detective or spy thriller that transcends the genre and offers something more profound. It's equally satisfying (and rare) in a movie or series. While every British TV detective is examining CCTV footage to solve crimes, The Capture focuses on the potential for abuse, corruption, and a much darker side of the surveillance society.

The Children Act

Stilted dialogue, endless expositions, and a script so wooden that even Emma Thompson and Stanley Tucci couldn't bring it to life. Yikes.

Clarence Clemons: Who Do I Think I Am?

A strange and unwatchable documentary. I loved the Big Man, so I'm giving it a generous two.

Cléo from 5 to 7 (1962)

Two hours in the life of a beautiful, worried woman. Paris in the 1960s. French New Wave by the often-overlooked Agnes Varda. A delight.

Collateral (this, not this)

A solid detective conspiracy drama, with some excellent writing and acting. It really needed a second season.

Cracker

I finally watched this cult favourite, created by Jimmy McGovern and starring Robbie Coltrane. If you like characters who are difficult and initially unlikable, who may or may not grow to reveal the darkness that drives them, Cracker fits the bill. It's also notable for the darker, more realistic perspective on policing, similar (but not as good as) Prime Suspect.

Deadwater Fell

A solid, serviceable British crime drama, notable for David Tennant and a healthy dose of ambiguity.

Designated Survivor (S1 and part of S2)

Is this The West Wing or a paranoid thriller? It's a hamfisted amalgam that just doesn't work. Note: if a bomb blows up the U.S. Capitol building during a State of the Union address, killing the President, Vice President, and every member of Congress, you might want to show some evidence of a country in shock and mourning. 

Dial M for Murder (1954)

My first time seeing this Hitchcock classic, and it did not disappoint. Suspenseful, creepy, and unpredictable. 

Dick Johnson Is Dead (Best of 2020)

A breathtaking, heartbreaking, joyous documentary about memory, love, life, and loss. An attempt to understand life's most profound mysteries, and a realization that we simply cannot. A triumph. 

Django Unchained

A blood-soaked, action-packed, hilarious burlesque of revenge, and a completely over-the-top tribute to the spaghetti western. I've never been a Tarantino fan, but seeing Black slaves take revenge on slavers and collaborators in this deadly comic way was just so much fun.  

Dolly Parton: Here I Am

We all love Dolly but this doc is a carefully managed PR piece, with too much left unsaid. It's also sad to see Dolly's exuberant beauty mangled by so much cosmetic surgery. I understand that looking visibly old may be off-limits for entertainers, but on the other hand, would Dolly's legions of fans desert her?

Echo in the Canyon

This is a nice little documentary about the music scene in Laurel Canyon, California in the 1960s. I could have lived without the recreations by contemporary artists. Really.

Education (Small Axe #5) (Best of 2020)

The final Small Axe film focuses on the failures of the formal education system, and a community's determination to change it. I especially loved learning about the British West Indian "Saturday Schools", reminiscent of the community-created learning Ken Loach depicted in The Wind That Shakes the Barley. Heartbreaking and inspiring.

Elevator to the Gallows / Lift to the Scaffold (1958) (Guardian Top 10 Film Noir)

I am indebted to The Guardian for introducing me to this, Louis Malle's first feature film. You can feel the Hitchcock influence, and see the infancy of French New Wave, all folded into a tense noir -- plus a young Jeanne Moreau and an original score by Miles Davis. A perfect, brilliant movie.

Elle

I didn't mean to see a rape movie. I confused the title with a movie I've been searching for -- Pour Elle (which was remade into The Next Three Days). Elle was all rape, all the time. I give it credit for the scenes being purely violent and not sexual. But there's a lot of it. 

The Expanse S5

Seasons 1 through 4 of The Expanse blew me away. S5 is very good, but on plot terms, it dipped down to the 4 category. War alliances and strategies are just not as spectacular as the protomolecule. I eagerly await S6.

First Cow

This begins as the story of two long-ago travelers with a scheme to strike it rich, a kind of quiet, period-piece buddy movie. But the plot thickens. And becomes unstable -- and dangerous. Although it didn't rise to the level of 5, First Cow is an excellent film.

Flight of the Conchords (re-watch)

We loved this the first time we saw it, but I found the humour didn't hold up. The music video spoofs are as clever and dead-on as ever, but the sitcom scenes in between are tedious. Everything is too one-note. But it was great the first time. 

Foxcatcher

Most reviews of this movie praised the cast's great performances. I'll have to take the critics' word on that, because the movie is too awful to watch.

Godless

The American West in the 1880s. Survivors, revenge, forgiveness, redemption, and more than a little feminism. Plenty of western-style violence, including a shoot-out for the ages. I loved it.

Goliath

Billy Bob Thornton plays a disgraced lawyer in a show that feels written for him. Conspiracies grow wider, deeper, and less predictable. A solid series, with some particularly disturbing violence. 

The Good Lord Bird

I suppose this was an attempt to tell the story of John Brown while avoiding the white-saviour route. John Brown is a fascinating historical figure -- a political terrorist committed to abolition, a white man more than willing to die for the Black cause. His story is gripping and surreal. This, however, feels like an afterschool special.

Hidden (2018)

This Welsh detective series was mostly good, but the blatantly bad detective work that served as a plot device was too obvious for us. Still worth it if you're running out of things to watch.

Hold the Dark

A ridiculous premise, horrendous acting (why is everybody whispering?), and a completely predictable plot. I guessed the supposedly twist ending immediately, then fast-forwarded to confirm. One saving grace: wolves.

The Investigation

This somber, serious mini-series recreates the investigation into the murder of Swedish journalist Kim Wall. Purposefully not flashy, and one of the best procedurals you'll ever see.

Kidding

A dark comedy-drama about loss and redemption, bright-siding and gaslighting, love and loyalty. Jim Carrey and Frank Langella are both wonderful. Rarely a sour note. 

Killing Eve

Another genre-blender, mixing dark humour and drama with a cold-hearted spy thriller. There are the plot holes and inconsistencies that one often finds in thrillers, but they didn't detract from Sandra Oh's and Jodie Comer's performances. I really enjoyed this.

Knives Out

Funny, entertaining, cute. Meh.

The Leisure Seeker

A fun premise, a great cast, a terrible movie.

Line of Duty

Police conspiracy, corruption, murder... who can be trusted? There are a few clunkers here and there, but it's a solid show.

Look Through Any Window

A good documentary about The Hollies, a band whose members intersect on a large music family tree, and whose influence is often overlooked.

Lovers Rock (Small Axe #2) (Best of 2020)

The second film in the Small Axe anthology brings us to a reggae house party, for an immersive view into the British West Indian immigrant community that is the focus of these films. The music, dialogue, and visual detail impart a richness and immediacy seldom seen in historical drama, and includes one of the best music scenes in any movie, ever. A triumph.

Ma Rainey's Black Bottom

I am a huge fan of the playwright August Wilson, and grateful that I lived in New York while his plays -- each representing a decade in the African American experience -- were being staged. The screen adaptation of Fences was disappointing, but this one hit the mark. Viola Davis and the late Chadwick Boseman, in what turned out to be his final role, stand out, and the view into the exploitative music industry is well done.

Madeline's Madeline

If you like watching film from a distance and contemplating postmodern-self-conscious-meta structures, this may work for you. For me, this felt like a concept rather than a movie.

Mangrove (Small Axe #1) (Best of 2020)

The first entry in Steve McQueen's Small Axe anthology, Mangrove is a singular triumph. Among many things I loved about this movie, the filmmaker understands movements -- how they are born, how they grow, what makes them succeed. If this were a Hollywood film, it would probably focus on Ian McDonald and tell a white-saviour story. Instead, it's about a community. Don't miss this.

Mank

I wanted to love this movie. It was clever, and visually beautiful. But similar to Madeline's Madeline, I couldn't get past the concept; the self-consciousness held me at a distance. (At this point, someone usually tries to explain the concept to me. Trust me, I got it.)

Miles Davis: Birth of the Cool

This biopic focuses on Miles Davis' music and his career, and barely mentions his very problematic personal life. If you've banned Miles from your playlist because he was a violent asshole, you might not approve. But if, like me, you separate art from artist, you'll like this. Miles was a genius, and a pioneer, and this film captures the how and why.

Money Heist S1-3

I love a good heist movie, and this series delivered and then some. An abundance of suspense and plot twists more than compensate for the non-credible story. And really, isn't that what a good heist movie is all about?

Murdoch Mysteries S13

Can you believe I'm still watching this? It's like an addiction to Froot Loops. Or maybe spinach?

Never Rarely Sometimes Always (Best Film of 2020)

An austere, gritty, incredibly authentic look at a pregnant teen. A ground-level view of what the anti-abortion-rights laws do to real people and real lives. Painful and essential. The best film of 2020, closely followed by The Assistant.

One Night in Miami

A bad idea made into a ghastly movie.

Out of the Past (1947) (Guardian Top 10 Film Noir)

Robert Mitchum, silent and inscrutable as always, and a femme fatale for the ages. "She can't be all bad. No one is." ... "She comes the closest." A satisfying, classic noir.

Pretend It's a City

I enjoyed watching Martin Scorsese interview Fran Lebowitz, had some good laughs, and felt wistful for my old hometown. But several of Lebowitz's assessments are obtuse and seem to contradict her own expressed principles. It's a fun documentary, but I liked it more in the moment than I did in retrospect.

Rebecca (1940)

Daphne du Maurier's novel, and Hitchcock's classic adaptation, have always been two of my favourites. No matter how many times I see this movie, I always find it satisfyingly suspenseful, creepy, and gothic. There have been multiple failed remakes, and I don't have high hopes for the most recent adaptation on Netflix. Why does anyone remake Hitchcock?

Red, White and Blue (Small Axe #3) (Best of 2020)

Can a system be changed from the inside? Can the policing of a Black community in a white-dominated society ever be just? Can a Black man embrace the system with his integrity and identity intact? The third film in the Small Axe anthology explores these and other questions through the real-life story of Leroy Logan. It's a stunning film and the fulcrum of the series.

Rita S1-2

I thoroughly enjoyed this comedy-drama about a rebel teacher, her school, and her family. I stopped watching only because reading subtitles (from the Danish original) plays havoc with my evening relaxation. I can do it for a movie, but for binge-watching, it's too much work. The show -- or more likely, Denmark -- gets major bonus points for normalizing abortion.

Secrets of the Saqqara Tomb

We stumbled on this documentary, and since we visited Saqqara on our 2017 trip to Egypt, we clicked, albeit with low expectations. To our surprise, it's a rich, engrossing look at archaeology and how ancient history can be known. Truly fascinating.

Shadow of a Doubt (1943)

I was surprised to discover a 1940s Hitchcock movie that I had never seen. (This only means the New York-area station that showed all the old movies didn't have this one.) A solid psychological thriller in the 40s style.

Silicon Valley (re-watch)

When the final season of Silicon Valley became available on Crave, I decided to re-watch the whole series from the beginning. It's a really smart comedy that manages to skewer pretty much everything while also being warm and compassionate. It keeps you rooting for the little guy, even when that little guy is a jerk.

The Sisters Brothers

This western is funny, entertaining, and surprisingly tender. As much about brotherhood than it is about murder. Solid and worthwhile. 

Slings and Arrows (re-watch)

I'm grateful to the former wmtc reader who urged me to see this, more than 10 years ago. It's as funny, clever, and thoughtful as ever. And so Canadian! Really a joy to watch.

Sorry to Bother You

Wow! This movie was a wild surprise -- a darkly comic, slightly surreal labour story. So clever and funny, with a touch of magic realism that makes it startlingly unique. 

Sorry We Missed You (Best of 2020)

Another devastating story by the incomparable Ken Loach, this one focusing on the lies and deceit of the so-called gig economy. A companion to I, Daniel Blake, with the same immediacy and authenticity that makes them both among Loach's best.

Spellbound (1945)

Every time I see this movie, I appreciate it more. Ingrid Bergman, Gregory Peck, Alfred Hitchcock, Salvador Dali -- and the nascent recognition of the  effects of the unconscious mind. Brilliant. (You may notice we were on a Hitchcock  tear.)

Star Trek: Discovery S3

I really enjoyed S1 of Discovery, and liked S2 with some reservations. In S3, the pompous, overwrought tone I disliked in S2 became the whole show, and I gave up. Oh well.

The Stranger

A solid thriller, with the usual gaps and plot holes, but also good mystery and suspense, from Harlan "Name Above the Title" Coben.

Team Foxcatcher

A strange, compelling story of obsession, paranoia, misplaced loyalty, betrayal, and murder. This is the documentary, much better than the fiction version.

The Third Man (1949) (Guardian Top 10 Film Noir)

The masterful Graham Greene screenplay, the haunting zither score, the atmospheric cinematography -- everything about this film draws you in and keeps you off-balance. Not a wasted word or an extraneous shot, not an extra intake of breath. Plus a surprising Orson Welles! I don't know why I had never seen this film before, but I look forward to seeing it again. Truly a masterpiece.  

They Live By Night (1948) (Guardian Top 10 Film Noir)

It can be a fine line between noir and parody, and this movie crosses it too many times.

Touch of Evil (1958) (Guardian Top 10 Film Noir)

An aura of threat and menace hangs over this movie about murder, revenge, and police corruption in a border town. The racial overtones don't hold up -- it's tough to buy Charlton Heston as Mexican -- but there's quite a lot of evil without it.

True Grit (2010)

This movie skillfully avoids the many plot clichés the premise leads viewers to expect. A good movie with some nice moments. Won't change your life, but I wasn't sorry I saw it.

The Twelve S1

An interesting legal drama from Denmark with enough potential to wait for S2.

The Two Killings of Sam Cooke

I love Sam Cooke's music, but I think this movie oversells his activism and influence. Despite that, it's a solid, concise documentary about a committed and talented artist.

Uncut Gems

This movie is full of noteworthy performances, especially Adam Sandler bringing a scary, manic energy to his role as a gambling addict. Alas the story -- like every story about compulsive gambling -- is entirely predictable. You've probably seen it many times before, but it's quite well done.

Unforgotten S3

This show -- an understated British version of Bones -- continues to bring a level of profound emotion to the forensic procedural. Each cold case reveals a web of people who have been affected by the loss. Always moving and very well done.

The Vast of Time

A wonderfully suspenseful period piece, with the creepy, supernatural vibe of The Twilight Zone. Very enjoyable.

The Walk

See the excellent documentary Man on Wire, and skip this silly nonsense.

Whiplash

There is some very fine acting in this movie, and it was great to see J. K. Simmons in a central role. But I found the premise disturbing enough to ruin the movie: abuse is justified, even celebrated, if it produces great art. Might this art have flourished under some other teaching method? We don't know. Is it OK for humans to treat each other this way if there's a claim to a higher purpose? Nope.

Widows

This is an unusual and engrossing drama, nominally a heist movie, but really just good characters, an unpredictable plot, and a backdrop of social commentary.

Yellowstone S1-3

This modern western is all about land -- who owns it, who controls it, who has moral, ethical, or legal claim to it. It often explores Indigenous issues, including racism and missing and murdered women, and how the past reverberates in the present. It's also action-packed and super violent. 

Young Wallander

I really wanted to love this series. I loved Wallander, and I hoped this would be its Endeavour. Alas, I couldn't make it through S1. Not complete garbage, but when you can't stand the sound of the lead actor's voice, it's tough to watch.

Tried but didn't take

Mad Men (second attempt)
Sons of Anarchy

Comedy Before Sleep

Community (entire series; re-watch S1-4)
On my second time through the series, I appreciated it so much more. It's no small feat for a show to be simultaneously earnest and ironic. Clever, smart, hilarious, and meaningful.

New Girl S5-end
A few years ago, I quit this show when the focus changed. Picking it up again, that no longer bothered me. Very enjoyable.

Big Bang Theory S1-7
A smart, funny, meaningful, character-driven comedy. A wonderful surprise. However, the best opening theme since Malcolm in the Middle does not make up for the most intrusive laugh track I've heard as an adult.

30 Rock (entire series; had previously seen S1-2)
I thoroughly enjoyed this. It did get a bit zany, but it never jumped.

Recap of previous years

- Canadian musicians and comedians (2006-07 and 2007-08)
- my beverage of choice (2008-09)
- famous people who died during the past year (2009-10)
- where I'd like to be (2010-11)
- vegetables (2011-12)
- big life events in a year full of Big Life Changes (2012-13)
- cheese (2013-14)
- types of travels (2014-15)
famous people who died plus famous people who died, part 2 (2015-16)
- the picket line (2016-17)
- movies (2017-18)
2018-19: 1-5 ☮s
2019-20: 1-5 đź’‰s

4.03.2021

beverly cleary, rest in peace, and thank you

Beverly Cleary, who died last week at the astounding age of 104, was a pivotal figure in the world of children's literature. Her books are treasures; her influence can scarcely be measured.

Cleary was one of the first authors to feature young characters who were realistically imperfect. If she was not the first, then certainly she was the first popular, widely-read writer who, as The Atlantic put it, "saw children as they are". 

Before Henry Huggins and Ramona, before Otis and Ellen and Ralph S. Mouse, children's literature was preachy and moralistic. The sanitized characters bore little resemblance to actual children. Books typically stood above children, and spoke at them. Cleary's books stood beside children and reflected them. 

Cleary's books were among the first that respected children -- their intelligence, their experiences. This would become the norm, of course, but it started somewhere, and that somewhere is Beverly Cleary. 

From a tribute (not the obit) in The New York Times:

The much-adored author of 42 books for children, who was declared a "Living Legend" by the Library of Congress in 2000, died on Thursday at the age of 104.

To borrow a response from Cleary's most famous character, Ramona Quimby: "Guts! Guts! Guts!" What else is there to say?

Cleary's novels — "The Mouse and the Motorcycle," "Henry and Ribsy" and "Ralph S. Mouse," just to name a few — are now in the hands of a third generation of readers. Her books are a cornerstone of modern children's literature, front and center in the bedtime canon, and among the first that many young children enjoy on their own. She was the recipient of every accolade available to authors of books for young readers — from the Newbery Medal to the National Book Award — and will remain alive in the imagination of every child who met Ramona and Beezus Quimby, Henry Huggins, Otis Spofford, Ellen Tebbits or any one of her dear, flawed, funny characters, and thought: "That's me."

I also loved this context for Cleary's most popular character, Ramona. 

One could argue that Ramona was the forerunner of what is now known as "girl power." Before Junie B. Jones and Ivy and Bean arrived on bookshelves, before words like "fierce" and "boss" migrated from zoos and office parks onto girls' T-shirts, she was strutting around with her hands on her hips, signing her name with a flourish — whiskers, pointy ears and a tail on the Q. No heart over the "i" for this girl.

"She was not a slowpoke grown-up," Cleary wrote in "Ramona and Her Mother". "She was a girl who could not wait. Life was so interesting she had to find out what happened next."

Right now I happen to be reading a biography of Louise Fitzhugh, who created the prototype of girl power for my generation, and many to follow. Harriet the Spy was published in 1964, Beezus and Ramona in 1955. I think Fitzhugh must have been influenced by Cleary... but I'll find out. 

Many women cite Nancy Drew as a character that inspired them, and certainly series like the Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys mysteries gave children agency. But those characters are fantasies. Fantasies are useful and important, but they don't bring children recognition, a feeling of belonging, a comfort that they are not alone, that readers find from realistic depictions of lives and feelings.

From a 21st Century perspective, Cleary's books exhibit a seeming total absence of diversity. Every character is white, as was the custom of the day. But girlsGirls are front and centre. Girls have agency. Girls are the boss. At the time, this was diversity.

Henry Huggins was the first book I ever read. Naturally I read it many, many times. As you may know, the story involves a boy who finds a lost dog, so skinny that its ribs are showing, hence the name Henry gives the pup. 

Here's the part that is an indelible memory. The original owner shows up and insists the dog is his. He and Henry argue. They agree to let the dog decide, each person calling the dog, hoping the dog will choose him. The interloper uses the dog's original name, which of course Henry never knew. Unfair! Then Henry realizes he, too, can use the dog's old name... and Ribsy runs to him. Hurrah!

My family didn't have a dog yet, and I dreamed of finding a Ribsy and taking him home. Little did I know!

This 2011 interview with Cleary in The Atlantic is wonderful: "Beverly Cleary: 'I Just Wrote About Childhood as I Had Known It'".

The official Beverly Cleary website gives a great perspective on the characters she created.

Beverly Cleary, thank you, thank you, thank you!

3.22.2021

reflections on a year of piano lessons by a dedicated (and untalented) student

The covid lockdown began on March 17, 2020. On March 20, I began piano lessons.

I took piano lessons from age 6-10, before switching to violin (a mistake), then quitting. I later resumed piano lessons as a teenager -- a very positive experience that ended when I left home for university. 

It was always assumed that I would one day inherit our family piano. That didn't turn out as planned, but that magnificent heirloom has stayed in the family, and in a wonderfully random way, I ended up with a piano anyway. I told this story here: why it is interesting and significant that i own a piano.

As soon as that happened, I decided that I would find a way to take piano lessons again. The pandemic presented me with the perfect opportunity. I did some research, and easily identified Pianote as my method of choice: in which i begin re-learning how to play piano -- using pianote.com.

And now I've been learning piano for one year! So... some thoughts.

  • Pianote has exceeded my expectations. It is a fantastic program, a brilliant combination of self-directed learning with a huge array of resources and support. I now have a lifetime membership -- an investment in myself. 
  • Learning as an adult is great! I use the methods and resources that work for me, and ignore the ones that don't. (More detail on this below.)
  • Shorter practices are better.
  • For the first six months, I practiced every day. Never missed a day! But at some point my practice routine had grown ridiculously long and tiring. With advice from Pianote teachers, I shortened and simplified the routine. Now my practice fits in better with my life and my (in)ability to concentrate. I now practice five or six days each week for roughly 30 minutes per day. On days I feel too rushed or stressed to practice, I've adopted the habit of at least playing some scales or other warm-up exercises for five minutes. 

  • I actually remembered a few things from my childhood lessons!
  • I did not remember how to read music, but I was able to recognize certain notes. I also remembered the mnemonics for note-reading and, strangely, the pattern of the major scale: whole-whole-half-whole-whole-whole-half. Perhaps I should have expected some bits to be lodged in long-term memory, but still, it amazed me.

  • I am seeing progress!
  • Up to now, my playing has been hampered by my almost constant need to look at my hands. I'd unintentionally memorize bits of a song, and look at my hands while playing it. Then, looking up at the sheet music, I'd be lost. This kept my playing sounding very hesitant and choppy. Just now, after a full year, I find myself able to sight-read without looking at my hands! Which leads me to conclude that...

  • My learning is very slow.
  • I have zero musical aptitude, and learning to do something you are not naturally good at is very challenging! Which leads to my number one rule...

  • Think small!
  • When something I am trying to learn -- any challenging phrase, any rhythm, any tiny bit of hand independence -- becomes less difficult, when I move from painfully trying to a basic ability, that's a win. Any. Tiny. Thing. Because really, what is learning if not a collection of tiny wins, strung together?

    --------

    Regarding Pianote, here's what I ignore -- and what I adore.

    The Metronome. The principal instructor at Pianote -- who is amazing -- believes that using a metronome for some part of every practice is essential. Free digital metronomes are available online (google metronome) and I did try it, but ran away screaming. My hearing isn't great, and my concentration is even worse, and I just couldn't stand it. So, no metronome!

    The Q&A. Pianote features a weekly live Q&A with instructors, with questions submitted in advance. (The session is later posted as a video.) Pianote students from all over the world participate in this, a group piano lesson and hangout. I tried this a few times, but I found it tedious and time-wasting. If I have a question, I'll post it to a forum, leave a comment below a lesson, or if necessary, email an instructor. So, no live Q&A for me!

    The Student Review. Similarly, there is a weekly live lesson. Students submit video clips, then get support, advice, and critiques, as well as some experience playing in front of a (virtual) audience. Many students regard this as Pianote's best feature, and what sets it apart from other online learning experiences.

    I tried this once. I didn't find it at all helpful -- except to clarify that I have no interest in playing in front of an audience of any kind. It's simply not part of my learning goals. So, no more Student Review!

    To each their own, eh?

    But there are so many features of Pianote that I love!

    I love the beautiful set of books that complement the Foundations course. I read them all while working my way through Foundations, and I continue to use them for reference.

    I love the ability to download and print sheet music.

    I love the "Quick Tips" -- short mini-lessons focusing on one specific technique, practice tip, or challenge.

    I love the Planner, a beautiful book that helps me track my progress.

    I love the fluidity of learning both ear training and sight-reading, and using a combination of various methods and learning styles to learn to read music.

    I love learning music theory, and Pianote's approach to it. It feels like unlocking the mystery of how music is created. 

    I love the supportive community, and although I don't spend a huge amount of time there, I do enjoy supporting other students, and seeing different perspectives and styles.

    I love the incredibly user-friendly website that really leverages design to support learning.

    I love learning at my own pace and through my own path.

    And above all, I love the amazing teaching staff, headed by the incomparable (and Canadian!) Lisa Witt.

    3.21.2021

    roots and icebergs: decolonizing community spaces: a workshop

    I recently attended a six-hour workshop called Decolonizing Community Spaces. The workshop was led by two facilitators, one a Native American speaking to us from her traditional territories in Montana, and the other a Filipina-Canadian. 

    About 30 people attended; I believe all were health and service providers in the province of BC. 

    All the other participants raved about how much they learned, and how they will change their daily practices accordingly. I don't know if they were exaggerating, or if they were starting from a different place than I was. I encountered few, if any, ideas that were new to me, and was left feeling hopeless about the prospects for change. This was clearly not the intended result!

    Making the invisible visible

    Much of the course was spent on activities aimed at making visible the many invisible forces and conditions that shape our world. My graduate school experience in Information Sciences often involved similar exercises. One often-used example is uncovering the bias embedded in classification systems, whether the Dewey Decimal System, the dog breed standards, or any other. You quickly learn that no systems are purely objective; there are assumptions and biases built in to every human-made system. 

    This is turn reminds me of another favourite topic of mine: how certain beliefs and actions outside the mainstream are labelled "political", while the dominant narrative is thought of as apolitical. For example, my choosing to sit as the crowd in a ballpark cheers a military display is political, but the war display is -- ridiculously -- not thought of as political.

    I read a wonderful article once about academic freedom, how professors can enjoy that so-called freedom as long as they don't voice certain opinions, among them "questioning the naturalness of capitalism". 

    Trees and icebergs

    In seeking to make visible the constant presence of contemporary white supremacy and systemic racism, the course used these analogies: a tree, sometimes called "The Oppression Tree", and an iceberg.

    Here are some images of the Tree of Colonial Oppression and the Tree of Liberation, borrowed with gratitude Indigenous Solidarity Ottawa


    We can contrast the Tree of Oppression with a Tree of Liberation.

    Another handy visualization is the iceberg, which (obviously) implies that most of the forces that shape and direct our world are beneath the surface. 

    Here are two iceberg visualizations, one very simple and a pear-shaped iceberg that is more fleshed out. (These images seem to be passed around without attribution, so I apologize for not crediting someone's work.)




    I find both the tree and the iceberg very useful -- especially the tree. I believe that history is constantly affecting the present, so seeing colonialism, slavery, and capitalism named as constant root forces is satisfying. It feels right.

    The view from the leaves

    So how do these metaphors apply to our communities, our institutions, and our organizations? 

    Here is one tiny example of how institutions and organizations are influenced by these invisible forces, and thus perpetuate the structures of the dominant, white, European-derived culture. 

    A new service organization is being formed. In order to achieve official non-profit status so it can legally raise funds, hire staff, and operate, the organization must have a board of directors. 

    The interested parties conduct a search for suitable people to sit on the board. They claim they are reaching out to a broad and diverse group of people, and, in all likelihood, they truly believe they are. The people on their list of potential directors reflect a diversity of skin colours, perceived ethnicities, and genders. 

    But who is considered for boards? Who is in a position to serve? 

    Whose background is deemed "professional"?
    What formal education have they had that led to this professionalism?
    What familial and cultural background supported their early education, and put them on a track that would lead to this professionalism?
    Who has a comfortable retirement, so they can participate in this context without earning income?

    In other words, who has the privilege of fitting the profile of board material? 

    Thus the search for directors is superficially diverse, but it sees only a small subset of society. 

    In 2021, thanks to changes (forced by popular movements) over the past decades, that subset appears more diverse than it did in, say, 1941 or 1971. But the diversity is still very narrow. 

    Large segments of our society are precluded from this participation, almost from birth. Poverty, poor nutrition, substandard education, family violence and disintegration, foster care, incarceration, addiction, mental health -- often all of the above. The fact that a tiny percentage of people faced with this suite of barriers manages to overcome them changes nothing. 

    The privilege of time

    One long thread of discussion in this workshop looked at Indigenous ways of knowing, contrasted with the modes of the dominant (western, white supremacist) society. 

    Those not familiar with the term "Indigenous ways of knowing" might like to google and read about it. I had never heard the expression until I took the Indigenous Canada course online. (It's free! Open to all! Go for it!)

    Indigenous ways of knowing reflect an entirely different worldview than that of the dominant society. And while there are hundreds, thousands, of Indigenous cultures, most or all Indigenous societies have this in common. 

    I'm not at all qualified to teach this concept, but here are some graphics that speak to the general ideas.

    Kalantzis & Cope, Works & Days


    Full Circle: First Nations, Metis, Inuit Ways of Knowing
    Resource from OSSTF/FEESO; more sources found at link.


    Combining Two Ways of Knowing


    Combining Two Ways of Knowing

     

    Combining Two Ways of Knowing: more sources at link.

    In a world that didn't reflect colonial oppression, our interactions would be more relational and less transactional. We would make decisions more by consensus and less by top-down authority. To create change, we could try many different approaches, then come together to discuss the results and collectively decide how to more forward. 

    I have worked within structures like this, in grassroots activism. It is generally a slow process, which can lead to deep feelings of trust, solidarity, and friendship among members. Unity is forged from shared values and purpose. Leaders emerge naturally, and they serve more as coordinators than authority figures. 

    This model has its drawbacks, of course, but working within this framework can be a deeply satisfying experience. It is a framework that exists outside of official, established institutions.

    What is possible?

    In our work lives none of these things are possible. We have deadlines. We have limited funds and, above all, limited time.

    We must justify our time, and in order to continue receiving funding, we must demonstrate results in a manner defined by external sources. For most organizations, funding relies on statistics, and those statistics must be generated on a regular basis.

    All this is embedded into the organization. No matter how much good that organization seeks to do in the world, its processes and practices reflect a top-down approach. It is a tree that grows from colonial, capitalist, patriarchal roots.

    Where does that leave our prospects for creating change in our work?

    Many librarians and library administrators care deeply about reconciliation. We want to acknowledge the deep roots of colonialism and the many poisons that have grown from that tree. We want to welcome all people as equals. We want the community's needs and wishes to determine the direction our libraries take.

    But we cannot change roots. Roots are history, and history can never be changed. 

    We can pull back the veil to reveal levels of privilege. 

    We can seek and create opportunities to use our privilege for the greater good.

    We can shut up and step back. We can let others take the floor and we can listen to them when they speak.

    We can build relationships, creating opportunities for community input.

    If we are white, we will inevitably hear racism from people who look like us, and when we do, we can speak up.

    But. 

    We cannot change how a board of directors is chosen. 

    We cannot change top-down governance in the organizations that employ us. 

    We cannot change a system driven by statistics meant to justify the use of public funds.

    Thus this workshop left me feeling despair about the prospects of decolonizing our communities.

    3.06.2021

    five negatives and five positives of living in a remote region

    Everything in life is a trade-off. 

    Everything has pros and cons, advantages and pitfalls, clouds and silver linings. I honestly can't think of anything this rule doesn't apply to, including the Big Life Choices that are the most obvious and clear to us.

    This post has an additional disclaimer, more like a geographical quirk. 

    Aerial views really emphasize remoteness.

    Although we live in what most people would consider a small town -- population approximately 4,200 -- Port Hardy is actually a regional hub. The next-largest town clocks in at population 2,500. The other communities in the region have populations of less than 500, many in double-digits.

    Because it's a hub, Port Hardy has more services than many towns of its size -- primary healthcare, a hospital, a few restaurants, a café, a large supermarket that is open every day (and serves the entire region), more than one hardware store, two hair salons. There's an airport!

    But the northern end of Vancouver Island -- the "north island" -- is considered remote. Each small community is at least a 30-minute drive to any other. Many communities are accessible only by water or dirt roads. 

    Five negatives of living in a remote region

    1. There is a shortage of practitioners. If you're in a larger town, there may be one chiropractor, one dentist, one physiotherapist, one massage therapist. They are very busy! 

    In Port Hardy, we have primary health care and an emergency room. For appointments with specialists, we drive three hours each way. 

    2. There are very few restaurants. 

    Unless you know the area, regional maps can be misleading.
    Some places on this map are tiny, isolated communities.

    3. Gas and groceries are more expensive -- although not nearly as bad as advertised.

    4. Travel is expensive and time-consuming. 

    Although Port Hardy has an airport, commercial flights are only connectors to Vancouver; they are infrequent and expensive. Connecting to Vancouver by car and ferry is extremely time-consuming and also expensive. This means that travel, other than road trips, takes an additional day on either end and can easily cost an additional $500 per person.

    5. There is very little diversity. 

    For the most part, people in our area are either white, of European descent, or Indigenous. Non-indigenous brown people are so rare as to stand out. 

    Some things that could be negatives, but aren't:

    1. The dearth of shopping choices. I don't think I could have lived here pre-internet. For me, being able to have anything delivered makes this area livable. 

    2. Conservative politics, which one often finds in small towns. In our area, most jobs are union, and most people vote NDP. There are conservatives here -- and this area has had Conservative MPs in the past -- but a leftist viewpoint is not odd or marginalized.  

    3. There is "nothing to do". See below.

    Five good things about living in a remote region

    1. Affordable real estate if you earn a middle-class salary. 

    There is a serious housing crisis here -- a principal reason it's so difficult to attract practitioners to the area. But if you can find the right place for sale -- which may mean living in temporary housing while waiting for a house to go on the market -- the housing prices are insanely low, compared to large metropolitan areas.

    2. It is beautiful. Nature is everywhere -- mountains, water, forest, wildlife.

    3. It is quiet

    The quiet is not just aural; it is visually quiet. One of the things that constantly irritated me living in suburban sprawl (in the Toronto area) was visual pollution -- being surrounded by crushes of parking lots, fast-food restaurants, advertising, logos, strip malls. Everything just looked so ugly and noisy. 

    4. It is slow. No one is in a rush. 

    5. There's nothing to do. 

    Of course there is plenty to do outdoors! But having spent my adult life in areas where there were seemingly limitless cultural options, I always felt a certain amount of pressure to partake in some portion of them. Having nothing to do is heavenly. I enjoy my cozy pastimes with zero guilt or pressure.  

    * * * *

    I loved living in New York City, despite the challenges. I always felt that NYC's challenges made its strengths possible. 

    I love living in Port Hardy in much the same way. The challenges enable the strengths. If the area was more accessible, it wouldn't be so peaceful and undeveloped.