From artists to event staff, a whole raft of people weren’t allowed to speak critically about the Olympics. Sometimes, however, you can say more by saying nothing at all.

BLACKOUT was a project by Vancouver artists Alex Leslie and Elizabeth Bachinsky. Over the course of the Olympics, visitors to the Candahar, a performance installation that emulated an Irish pub, took photocopies of Olympics coverage and material and created their own messages with black pen.

“Our project is a response to all of the censorship around the Olympics,” Leslie told The Ubyssey. Controversy started when Vancouver poet laureate Brad Cran declined to participate in the Cultural Olympiad, according to the CBC, due to a clause that would block the artists from making negative comments about the Olympics or sponsors. “We’ve had a number of Aboriginal artists who’ve participated in the project,” Bachinsky said, “and many of them have participated in the Cultural Olympiad.” She estimated that about 80 per cent of submissions were completely anonymous.

According to Leslie, they have recieved all kinds of submissions. “Some are funny, some are playful, some are really confrontational, some are gibberish,” she told The Ubyssey. “Our idea…was that we wanted to do something that wasn’t really didactic…we wanted to do something that sort of took all the materials that represent the Olympics in the media and say, ‘Look at this, what happens when we take this apart.’”

Some submissions include references to housing and other protest movements. “Quatchi kid don’t like war at all, but he do love the miles he get when he protest war,” read a piece originally about a small child watching a celebration involving the Olympic mascot. A quote about what volunteers should do if approached to speak by the media now reads, “You are a roach in our Home.” Another reads, “Go roach off.”

A quote about a bylaw that would allow police to enter houses to remove ambush marketing signage was blacked out to say, “This bylaw is to protect the billions of public coffers to the hands right of mega products.” Some were less politically active, including one that read, “If you have sound, cover the brand” and one that changed a roster announcement for the men’s hockey team to look like a lottery card.

Despite the artists’ desire to be neither for nor against, a lot of the material ended up confrontational, but that was had  to do with the people who participated. “I think the people who really jumped on the project…were people who really wanted to respond critically to the Olympics,” Leslie told The Ubyssey.

She noted, however, that contributors have come from a wide range of backgrounds.

“We also have contributors who were children…from all over the world who came to see the Olympics,” she said.

Bachinsky agreed. “Every night…has been a really different space,” she told The Ubyssey. “From night to night, the audiences have been really varied.”

Fan Death
A Coin For The Well EP

It’s been a couple of years since I last heard someone try to combine a modern indie rock sound with disco. Sadly, despite having an interesting name and album cover aesthetic, Fan Death is not a band that I can recommend to anyone other than the burnt-out hippies of yesteryear who still think disco is a worthy genre of music.
I’ll keep this short because the EP is only five songs long—though they might as well just have cut out the fade-ins and fade-outs on each track, because they all sound exactly the same. I suppose their sound would be interesting if you had never heard anything like it, but alas, I have. If that whole indie rock/disco thing intrigued you then I suggest you check out controller.controller as they are much better than Fan Death.

Jay Malinowski
Bright Lights & Bruises

Honestly, I’m not sure who exactly I should blame for Bedouin Soundclash becoming so popular amongst our particular generation of pseudo-hipster university students. Is it because they are Canadian and managed to exploit our particular anxiety about the state of our burgeoning music industry? Or is it the fault of the popularization of independent music making every hack with a guitar and a quirky outlook on life feel like they have something life changing to contribute to my ruined and jaded ears?
Anyway, that aside, it’s been three years since last I had to hear frontman Jay Malinowski’s wailing voice but I guess he has missed being in the public spotlight because lo and behold, he now has a solo project. How cute. I guess releasing an online-only EP didn’t work out so well.
As it turns out Mr Malinowski has not changed much. He still sings in clichés like he is in a sad Hollywood movie about the world’s most utterly generic rock band. He still insists on holding onto every second note with his boringly grainy voice. His music is nothing you haven’t heard before and nothing technically advanced enough to respect. His metaphors still make little sense.”Life is a gun”? In what sense? You have to point yourself at stardom and happiness and pull the trigger? You have to reload and try again when your last two albums flop?
Anyway, I’m going to hazard that Jay is past his prime, if ever he had one. Bright Lights & Bruises is nothing. It is literally dead sound waves thinly disguised as a new experience.

Nate Wendel is a serious-looking boy.

He has dark curly hair and is soft-spoken. As he speaks, he gets more and more excited, and his gesticulations become more exaggerated. Just looking at him, you wouldn’t expect him to be a talker. But boy, does he talk—especially when you get him to talk about latest film project, a ten-minute short called Brown Sound Underground With Nona Leslie.

Nate Wendel is a second-year UBC Film Production student embarking on his maiden voyage directing a film he wrote. The film is primarily funded by himself and “mom and dad,” which explained the pieces of newspapers taped to ceilings, impromptu gobos (which control light) amidst the camera dolly and the sandbags holding things down.

“We’re getting an amazing deal on the camera because our [director of photography] has a million connections in this secret underground world of cameras that I don’t understand at all,” he explained.

He is unfazed about how low-budget the whole thing is. “Once you have a crew together, you can make a movie,” he said. “And when you have an excellent crew and you have a story, that’s like half the job. The rest is literally just showing up.”

Wendel got interested in film during the summer between his junior and senior year of high school.

“I was in acting camp…they had a film component,” he said. “We made a movie and it was really fun, and I thought [that] film was a great future.” Ever since then, he’s always wanted to study film production. “Film transcends every single thing I’m interested in. I can narrate a bigger picture,” he explained.

Wendel’s film is about two girls and their interactions. “One of them is doing a radio documentary…she wants to do [it] on cassette tapes,” he explained. “So she goes and finds her idol, a zine writer, because she thinks the idea of these dead formats are connected. But when she goes to meet her…she finds out the zine girl is not what she expected.

“In the characters, there is a journey of overcoming lethargy, overcoming a desperate need to self-validate.”

As most of the film is actually an interview, some of the sound will be edited post-production to have that “fuzzy distance” of cassette tapes. “Our plot involves the sounds being recorded…by the character. So we just have the microphone that the character uses, which is actually going to a recorder, which is portably held by our sound [recordist].”
Wendel’s advice to aspiring filmmakers? “Stay focused and stay present.”

As the medal count and alcohol consumption compounded during the Olympic Games, so did the fervor with which people wanted to visually announce their national affiliation. Not only was the difference apparent between what supporters of different countries wore, but it also wasn’t hard to see how the city had divided into pro- and anti-Olympic camps.
A reliable indicator of pro-Olympic sentiment would be a volunteer jacket. The army of blue that brought us the Games were out in full force, flashing their volunteer badges and touting clothing of every conceivable kind emblazoned with the friendly inukshuk logo. Perhaps they had a secret caste system communicated with scarves and backpacks? Does a lowly curling volunteer with only a pair of Olympic mittens get shunned by their media compatriots in official VANOC gloves?

Conformity and competition was also rife among those infected by nationalism. Only have a “Canada kicks ass” T-shirt from 1998? You obviously don’t support our athletes as much as those decked out in jerseys, face paint, Canada flag capes and Lululemon hockey helmets. And what about all the people inexplicably running around in reindeer hats? National pride, friends. Right there.

Because we live in Vancouver, there was—rather unsurprisingly—a large mob of those who didn’t wear their colours to support our Home and Native Land. Instead of slick vinyl and rustic buffalo check, combat camouflage and hemp weave were the materials of choice. Some say they crashed a party, and others admired their anarchist bent, but they definitely stood out. Here are three key ways to know you may have not been among people trading Quatchi pins:

The Balaclava:

The balaclava, or, for those who prefer, the bandana tied around the face, is primarily to enhance the protester’s air of brash lawlessness and intensity. Maybe some are intimidated, but we just wonder what they have to hide.

The Combat Boots:

The extent of an Olympic protestor’s dedication to the cause is directly correlated to the amount of buckles and laces on their combat boots. Thick soles are handy for treading over broken glass freshly smashed from storefront windows, but don’t expect them to be used for actual combat.

The Marijuana Flag:

Regularly seen sweeping majestically over disgruntled heads, the flag looks suspiciously similar to the red and white worn by our athletes and supporters alike. However, this flag expresses patriotic devotion to our very own BC bud. This is an essential accessory to any dedicated protester; its unmistakable appearance is also accompanied by the smell of recently lit joints and glazed over facial expressions.
As much as we scoff about standing in line for three hours to buy the same team Canada shirt that 30 other people in line also had their eyes on, or middle-class students who were only at protests to score free weed, we had to admire the fervor that struck Vancouver and brought out excitement and free spirits.

Ingredients
1 1/2 cups coconut oil (comes as a white pasty substance)
1 cup carob powder or organic cocoa powder
1 1/2 cups Rapadura, Sucanat or honey
1 tsp vanilla extract
Directions:
1) You will need two bowls for this step. Liquefy the coconut oil by placing a bowl of the oil into a bowl of hot water.

2) If using Rapadura or Sucanat (whole dehydrated cane juice) blend in a dry blender until it becomes a powder.

3) Blend all the ingredients together in a food processor or a blender on high until the batter emulsifies.

4) Place the liquid in a large lasagna pan. Let sit at room temperature or in your refrigerator until the fudge hardens and voilà, a yummy vegan and raw treat!

This recipe was submitted by Jon Dehouwer (sprouts.products@gmail.com)

Broken Bells
Self-Titled

Some days I wake up from my vegetative state of pop culture boredom only to find that something miraculous has snuck up on me. Broken Bells is exactly that sort of miracle, so I’ll just start by saying that if you are remotely interested in indie music, then you need to get a copy of their new self-titled album. Seriously, rent it, buy it, steal it from a friend, request it on the radio, smuggle it across the border in your underwear or import it from the moon. Just make sure that you listen to it.
Broken Bells is the amalgamation of The Shins frontman James Mercer and Brian Burton (aka Danger Mouse). I usually hate indie supergroups but I guess sometimes I hop on the hypocrite wagon just like everyone else. What makes this album so good is that both Mercer and Burton bring their very distinctive styles to the table. A lot of supergroups have musicians that mostly sound the same, therefore you can’t tell who is doing what, or why you should care. Mercer and Burton, meanwhile, are so distinct from one another that you can practically hear them standing on different sides of the room.
If you already like The Shins, you should at least listen to this to tide yourself over until their next album. If you like Danger Mouse, then this will be nothing different, as all the man does is make good music with loads of other musicians. I wonder if he has some sort of weird quality-compelling disease.

Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Beat The Devil’s Tattoo

Once upon a time there was a band (nay, a Parthenon of Gods) whose name was so distinct that they did the impossible and put out a gospel rock album that didn’t suck. This album was dubbed Howl by these unearthly beings— and thus my life was forever improved.
Ever since that legendary time I have been praying for the second coming, but alas, it seems that it isn’t in the stars. Sadly, every time since then BRMC has put out straight rock albums, and Beat The Devil’s Tattoo is no different. It certainly isn’t bad, but it’s not the magic lighting strike that was Howl—so I’m going to be petty and say don’t bother with it.

Discorder has fallen on tough times. The monthly music magazine from campus radio station CiTR is struggling due to declining ad sales from local music purveyors. Damn this economy! If Discorder doesn’t find some cash soon, we’ll be seeing fewer magazines on the stands.
Like any self-respecting independent publication, Discorder has turned to their friends for help. And so The Fundraiser was born: an all out smorgasbord of local musicians featuring Fanshaw, Apollo Ghosts, Boogie Monster and Japandroids in DJ mode, all deployed strategically at the Biltmore on March 5 to save the publication.
The Ubyssey spoke with Discorder Editor Jordie Yow about the show and the future of the magazine.

Ubyssey: How has the Vancouver music scene come to your aid?

Yow: One of the biggest things is that all these bands are willing to play for free—which is a really big deal for us. We’re really pleased that all these are bands that we love, we’ve written about these bands in the past. We’re all big fans of them, and they’ve been willing to come out and play for free to keep the magazine in print. They recognize that Discorder is providing a valuable service for the community: we’re the only magazine in town that focuses entirely on local music. That’s our mandate.

U: How have other parts of the arts community helped out Discorder?

Y: There’s some really great stuff that’s been donated by local businesses. The Fringe Festival has donated a pass to everything at the festival. A lot of local artists who do work in Discorder who are just getting their art careers started will have their work available at our silent auction.

U: One of the bigger bands at this show are Japandroids, but they’re going to be DJing instead of playing their songs. What’s a Japandroids DJ set like?

y: People will have to come to find out. We asked them to play and they said “Let’s do something different.” They’ll just be coming off tour and they want a break before they go on tour again. Both the guys are really big music fans, and they’ll be playing later in the night so they’ll want to see people moving. It’ll be a dance party, and a good chance for people to hear the musical tastes Japandroids have when they want to party.

U: Why does the world need Discorder?

Y: I think it’s crucial in developing the Vancouver music scene. Discorder provides a service: we find bands in Vancouver. If we’re not finding them, there are no other magazines that have a mandate that go out and look for them. If Vancouver’s music scene is to continue to be as good as it is now, it’s important that someone is out there telling people what’s happening.

If you grew up in Canada in the early 90s, you probably remember Fred Penner, that nice man who lived in a log and played silly songs on CBC. Oddly enough, Fred Penner’s Place will be at the Pit tonight, as the lovable entertainer relives the tunes that made him an icon for the now college-aged kids who grew up listening to him. The Ubyssey spoke with Fred about his career, his songs, and just how he ended up playing the Pit.

Ubyssey: How does one of Canada’s most famous children’s entertainers end up playing in a pub for a bunch of university students?

Fred Penner: (laughs) I’ve heard about the Pit, I have friends who have played the Pit, and I’m wondering the same thing: ‘what on earth is he thinking? Are you really gonna play the Pit?’ (laughs) It’s an odd sort of thing that’s evolved here, because the generation who first connected with me are now the university students. I receive pretty much daily e-mails from that generation saying that they remember me from the early days. It’s really cool to reconnect. Some are saying that they’re going into teaching because of me, that they play guitar or write songs because of me. There are all these accolades that are coming to me at this point. And that’s so cool! I respond to e-mails, I try to do it as often as possible. But it’s really neat to do something a little more direct by going to the university.

U: What’s it like reconnecting with the kids who grew up on your show?

P: A couple of years ago I played in Montréal at Gurt’s Lounge at McGill. It was out of sight! This lounge holds maybe only a couple hundred people at most. When they heard I was going to be there, this place was jammed to the rafters! I was on stage for about two hours, answering questions, singing songs, sharing some of my philosophy about this whole thing. This trip that I’ve been on for 30 years is a pretty intense journey about making a difference in the lives of people, of children, of families. And I think that’s part of what I bring to these events, it become quite philosophical, and often very emotional.

For a lot of the kids who are coming to see me, I was part of their lives in a very critical time of life. And in some ways I was a role model for them, depending on their family situation. I may have been a father figure in some cases. Tears have often been part of the communication. There’s such an overwhelming sense of reconnecting with this guy. I’m trying to be respectful of what the audience is feeling, how deeply they feel that they are connected with me, and taking that back to them. So Thursday night is going to be a very interesting little experiment at UBC.

U: Got anything special planned for the UBC show?

P: I did Fred Penner’s Place for thirteen years out of Vancouver and Winnipeg. So there’s always been such a powerful connection here. Taking it to UBC at this point is a logical progression in many ways. I’m in the midst of trying to write a song for UBC. (laughs) So we’ll see where that goes.

U: What’s your most recent tour been like?

P: At this point my spectrum of performance is quite vast, from doing schools, to keynote addresses, to the colleges and public performance. It’s all part of the same basic spectrum, and it’s putting those pieces together when the touring happens. I’m looking at this as about a three-week tour that will take me from BC to Ontario.

U: Do you enjoy playing more for any particular audience?

P: I love performing. It’s been such a part of my life for so long that I feel completely relaxed and comfortable when I’m on stage. I guess the phrase is ‘you’re only as good as your last gig.’ It’s almost a Zen kind of thing. I play to the audience that is there at that time. I try and give an open energy so that the audience can contribute to the energy of the performance.

U: Do you have a particular message that you hope people take from everything you’ve been doing for the past few decades?

P: I think the message is the value of music, and ultimately making a difference in the life of another human being through the music and communication. I’ve never been just a guy who gets up on stage and sings a couple of songs and tries to do something funny and it’s over. It’s always been about something much deeper than that, about getting into the lives of the listener and planting a bit of a seed that will hold on for a while, that will make them think for a moment. I’ll talk about my own family along the way, and things and how music has affected thing that I’ve done. Ultimately, the message I want to leave is to never underestimate your ability to make a difference in the life of another human being.

To listen to an interview with the Miss Guides here.

The Miss Guides latest work, GOLD RUSH! Art, Bars & Speculation is an hour–long walking tour of sound collage, art installations and myth about and around Gastown and the Downtown East Side. I interviewed the Miss Guides over udon after a rehearsal walk to get an idea of just what it is they are all about. The walk is a lot of fun—both a piece of art in itself, and a great way to see some of the more hidden Cultural Olympiad art installations around downtown.

As part of the Cultural Olympiad, GOLD RUSH! runs Thursdays, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays at 6pm, 7:30 pm and 9pm through Feb. 28. Tickets are priced for tourists at $40, but the Miss Guides are holding a lottery giving away 10 free tickets for those (and that’s certainly most of us students) for whom $40 is a bit out of reach. E–mail themissguides@gmail.com and let them know why they should choose you for a chance to see GOLD RUSH! for free.

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It’s the middle of winter. It’s dark outside, windy and very cold. You’ve got three midterms this week, because your professors are afraid you’ll forget everything you learned after the two-week bender that is the Winter Games.

Yes, February, with its attendant commercialized romance holidays and academic stresses, is a month that calls for stamina. But if you feel your strength flagging, it’s probably because your body has decided that it’s tired of this bullshit.

One of the best ways to preserve your trusty booze vessel’s imbibing powers—and its ability to survive the double whammy of seasonal affective disorder and professorial incompetence—is by loading up on all the good stuff. That’s right: fresh, local foodstuffs will save your life.

We met up with Charlotte Mellstrom, a third–year Forestry student known for her prodigious pizza making skills.
Our goal was to make a four-person pizza using products exclusively from BC. The Farmers’ Market was closed, so we went to the Granville Island Public Market, but it took almost an hour to collect the short list of ingredients we needed, partly because we were gawking at all the off-duty Olympians.

The end product: two portobello mushrooms ($9.16 per lb), two Ambrosia apples ($2.99 per lb), two packages of Canadian mozzarella ($4.50 each), two large shallots and one bunch of sage (99 cents).

We delivered our goods to Charlotte, who glanced at the spread and decided to make a “Shroombrosia” pizza: a sage pesto base with honey caramelized shallots, topped with portobellos and apples. Truly a feast fit for the gods, if we could make the dough following the mystical instructions passed down through the family.

Charlotte learned how to make pizza from her father, who learned it from her mother, who learned it from an “angry Italian man” in the pizza shop where she worked. The pizza-making process, as she demonstrated it, is largely based on handfuls, pinches and positive vibrations. A lack of specific measurements not withstanding, an hour and a half later we were presented with an almost 100 per cent local dish (flour, yeast and an extra red pepper hanging out in Charlotte’s fridge weren’t vetted for location).

We washed the winter-tastic pizza down with a homebrew, and felt that we had justified our fossil-fuelled lives for at least one lazy Saturday afternoon.

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Click to view slideshow.

What’s fresh in February?

Charlotte’s philosophy of pizza-making is, “Anything goes. If it tastes good together, it tastes good on a pizza.” Things that naturally grow in the same season almost always complement each other, so an easy way to compose your pizza is by shopping seasonally and locally.

Veggie types:
Beans
Beets
Carrots
Cabbage
Garlic
Kale
Leeks
Mushrooms
Onions
Parsnips
Potatoes
Shallots
Turnips

Fruity types:
Apples!

Other:
Honey
Nuts
Rosemary
Sage

Ocean-y types:
Pacific Cod
Crab/Dungeness Crab
Clams, mussels, oysters
Prawns
Snapper
Sole

Meat, egg and dairy products are generally always available, so don’t sweat it if all you want is a steak.

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Where to buy in the winter season

Farmers’ Markets can be found on practically every gentrified corner in Metro Vancouver during the (relatively) sunny summer months. But come November, the farmers all return home to wait out the winter, coming out only every other Saturday at the Wise Hall, 1882 Adanac Street, just off Commercial Drive.

The Wise Hall winter market has everything that will make you feel like the mean, green, Pacific Northwest fighting machine that you always wanted to be.

If you’re hungover on Saturdays, then you’re almost out of luck because the market is only open for the hours of 10am–2pm, when you’re probably still trying to open your eyes all the way.

The other alternative is the Granville Island Public Market, but even though they stay open until 7pm every day and have “over 50 passionate vendors” (ahem), the selection is much harder to wade through. Less items are BC-grown, and those that are generally take some work to find. Go to Granville Island for the Pacific seafood and to flirt with BC grown fishmongers. You’ll have just as much luck at your local produce stand when it comes to fruits and veggies, with significantly reduced costs.