Tag Archives: opera

Glorious music, exquisite voices, passionate dances and a set that almost stole the show

Arts, Daegu

The 33rd Periodical Performance of the Daegu City Opera was a triumph of art. As seems to be the norm with shows in Korea, or perhaps just those I have been lucky enough to attend, this production was big. As well as the Daegu City Opera, the production of G Verdi’s La Traviata showcased the significant talents of the DaeguCity Symphony Orchestra and included contributions from the Daegu City Choir and the Daegu City Modern Dance Troupe.

The story of La Traviata is one of love, loss, honour and tragedy. Violetta, a Parisian courtesan, meets, on her return to society after an illness, an admirer by the name of Alfredo Germont. Although she brushes off his declaration of love, saying that she prefers to a life of freedom, she is touched by his earnestness. Act II finds the two living in pleasant domesticity in a house in the country. When Alfredo discovers that she has sent her maid to sell off her possessions in order to continue financing their love-retreat, he feels ashamed and sets off to make things right at his own cost. While he is away, Violetta is visited by Alfredo’s father, Giorgio Germont who pleads his case, not only for his reckless son but also for Alfredo’s sister whose engagement is threatened by his scandalous affair. Although Violetta proclaims that she cannot relinquish his love, she is eventually convinced and sits down to write a farewell note to Alfredo. While she is writing, he surprises her, but instead of telling him why she is so distraught, she assures him again and again of her love and then leaves. Alfredo is calmly awaiting a visit from his father when a messenger arrives with a letter, the letter from Violetta ending their affair. In his despair, he sends his father, away and, finding an invitation to a ball that evening, decides to meet the woman who has broken his heart. Violetta arrives at the ball with her former companion, the Baron Bouphol, who, after warning her to stay away from Alfredo, challenges Alfredo to play at cards. Alfredo wins the game, claiming that unlucky in love is lucky in cards. As they go in to dinner Violetta asks to speak to Alfredo and warns him that he must leave. In a rage, he accuses her of loving another. She says lies and says that she does. In front of everyone, he throws his winnings at her feet and publicly insults the lady. The party guests rebuke him for his actions and the Baron challenges him to duel. Six months later, the final scene opens in Violetta’s bedroom, where she lies dying of consumption. Outside the crowds are celebrating Mardi Gras but she is broken-hearted. She receives a letter from Giorgio informing her that the Baron was only injured in the duel and Alfredo now knows the truth and is one his way to see her but she frets because he has not yet come. Her heart soars when Alfredo arrives and they declare that they will leave Paris and live together in their love, but it is too late for Violetta, who dies at her true lover’s feet.

The soaring tragedy of Verdi’s music (and the story-line) makes this an Opera packed with emotion, something that the excellent and well-trained voices of the two leads, Lee, Hwa Young (Violetta) and Lee, Hyeon (Alfredo) carried beautifully. At times, their movements were a little excessively dramatic, stumbling with rage or grief, but their operatic performance was passionate and accurate. Perhaps the best interaction, however, was between Lee, Hwa Young (Violetta) and Lee, In Cheol (Giorgio), whose portrayal of a powerful father pleading for this courtesan to release his son was heart-rending yet simultaneously compassionate. In addition to Lee, In Cheol’s great acting, his gorgeous voice was like liquid velvet.

Most of the other voices and performances were equally good, with the possible exception for Gastone who was a little quiet during the first act. The choir that supported the leads, under Chorus Master, Park, Young Ho, was also excellently trained and added depth and richness to the vocal music as well as numbers on stage.

The dancing was a dramatic addition. I thought the decision to use modern dancers in what was otherwise a fairly classical operatic performance was interesting. It also complemented the set, which I will get to in the a moment. For the most part, the dancing was a subtle artistic highlight – a brush-stroke emphasizing the other activity on the stage and in the music. In the first act, the dancers added action and lightness to Violetta’s party, for example. In the third act, they were the main attraction at Flora’s ball. Their dramatic movements and intense portrayal gave visual life to the words of the opera. Overall, the dance added the same depth visually that the choir added musically.

All of this added together to create a wonderfully rich and engaging experience. All of it, however, was almost topped by the visual (stage, costume and lighting) design. I include costume and lighting design here because they was very definitely a part of the visual impact but the real star for me was the set by Lim, Chang Joo. Over the years of watching performances, I have seen a variety of approaches to set design. Opera is the theatre genre with which I have probably the least experience, but even within this genre, I have seen different approaches. Both the version of La Rondine I saw in Cape Town and the Madama Butterfly I saw here used large, static sets aimed at creating some sort of realism. The Brunch Opera version of La Rondine I saw here also went for something like realism but this time using just a few props and a very basic backdrop. This La Traviata set used emptiness and minimalism to create a box or, from the audiences perspective, a frame, that seemed to capture and contain the opera’s intense emotion and music and make it even more powerful.

The basic set was a huge, empty white box. In the prelude and first Act, colour was added by a huge red set of steps suspended at the back of the stage, a red wooden horse lowered from the ceiling on a single white pole, on which Violetta sat and was raised up at various points, and a floor-to ceiling pop-art-style portrait that reoccured as a theme throughout the staging. On the left of the stage were five chair-sized 3D letters – A, M, O, U, R. The scene opened with four dancers sitting perfectly still, draped on and around the letters and Violetta standing half way up the staircase in shadow. The dancers wore black dresses with blue scarves and as they came to life and moved silently towards Violetta, added living brush-strokes of colour to create the dramatic visual movement (complemented by excellent lighting design). Violetta’s outfit, however, was completely traditional. As the action proceeded, the letters were used to visually complement the music as Alfredo lifted them and lined them up to spell ‘amour’ as he talked of love and Violetta knocked them back down as she brushed off his declaration.

The letters remained a feature, arranged in various forms through-out the rest of the show. In the second act, the red staircase was gone but the letters remained. The rest of the set included chairs and tables – all white and shaped like steps. There was also a red tricycle with two red balloons tied to the handle-bars and two teddy-bears sitting on the table. During the scene at the ball, the visual drama peaked when the female dancers and choir members, this time with red scarves over their black clothes, rose – in a perfectly still silhouette-style tableaux – from below the stage. The theme of all the costumes in this scene was black and red, capturing the drama. Modern props added an extra edge to the visual presentation, such as a photograph of his daughter handed to Violetta by Giorgio and a modern IV stand in the final scenes.

The set (plus costumes and lighting) was imaginative and modern and as visually dramatic as the opera is musically. The stark backdrop and clear colours (black, white, red, blue) highlighted the words and music and the hard proscenium arch of the white frame separated the audience from the action in a way that somehow encouraged suspension of disbelief. I found myself (and find myself again) wishing I had the vocabulary to accurately describe and think about the effect. As a non-expert, I am struggling to explain it beyond being able to say that it was exceptionally effective and left me wishing I could go back and take pictures analyse it academically to figure out why it made the whole opera more real by not being realistic, how it both contained and magnified the intensity and emotion.

The opera was long. It started shortly after the advertised 4pm – anyone who is a stickler for show punctuality should be prepared to put that aside when attending an Opera in Korea. After many, very much justified curtain calls, we finally left shortly before 7pm. But it was 3 very worthwhile hours. If I had the chance, I would gladly see the show again. This production of La Traviata was both an excellent opera and an exceptional theatre experience. Many people shy away from opera because they don’t understand it or don’t think they will enjoy it but this show has convinced me, more than any other, that anyone who is in Daegu would be making a mistake not to take advantage the opportunity to experience Opera at the Daegu Opera House.

La Traviata was directed by Chung, Kab Gyun and conducted by Diego Crovetti, under the artistic direction of Kim, Sung Bin and executive producer Lee, Jae Jin. It was presented by the Daegu City Opera with the Daegu City Symphony Orchestra and performances by the Daegu City Choir and Daegu City Modern Dance Troupe at the Daegu Opera House 22 to 24 April 2010.

Anticipating Opera

Arts, Daegu, ,

I woke up this morning feeling tingly with anticipation. There was sunshine creeping in my window and blue sky outside, sharpened by the contrast with rolling white clouds around the edges. I am off to the Opera today. I am so excited. I haven’t been to the Opera since I saw Madama Butterfly in December. This is not for lack of trying. There simply haven’t been any performances that I was able to attend since then. So I am excited to see Opera again. Actually, I’m excited to see any theatre. I’m feeling a little art-starved at the moment.

This is, of course, brought sharply into focus by the fact that I now know that I’ll be home in time to see at least a few days of the National Arts Festival in Grahamstown in July. Fest has become (for my mother and me at least) an annual pilgrimage  to several days – a week if we can manage it – of intensive culture and arts immersion. It is the most amazingly stimulating, relaxing, exciting, fulfilling experience. For those who have never experienced Fest, it is a week long  festival of arts and culture, including drama, dance, comedy, visual arts, music of all varieties, cinema, flee markets and street theatre (this year extended to 15 days of AMAZ!NG ). There are nearly 500 different performances, showings and exhibitions in that time. Some of them are funded ‘main’ productions, such as the annual festival ballet – this year Cape Town City Ballet performing Carmen (swoon), the gala and symphony concerts (conducted by Richard Cock – swoon again) plus other musical performances from the likes of Vusi Mahlasela, BLK Sonshine and Samson Diamond (SBYA for music), major theatre productions and developmental student theatre. There is also the Jazz Festival where some of the top jazz artists around (Concord Nkabinde, Sibongile Khumalo, etc., etc.) perform and new talent is showcased. The ‘fringe’ festival has hundreds more shows, some of which will flop completely but many of which are world-class theatre by some of the top performers in the country, who at no other time gather in one place, making Fest the only opportunity to see them all in action in just 15 days. Physical theatre, live music, dance, drama, plenty of comedy and the usual festival standards like ‘Raiders’ and (although I find him annoying and would never see his show) Stef: the ‘fringe’ is an integral part of the variety and diversity that makes Fest a unique cultural experience. Alongside this are ‘Word Fest’ – a literary festival that warms my heart,  Winter School (recently renamed ‘ThinkFest’) where some of the countries top minds come together to talk about topics ranging from law and  neuropsychanalysis to hip hop activism and sports versus art. Oh, and as a myriad visual arts exhibitions by a wide variety of artists.  To someone for whom all of the above equal joy, Fest is an abundantly joyous experience. This will also be enhanced, this year, by seeing my family for the first time 12 months (yay!) and by the prospect of touching base with friends (some of whom are now showing up as experts and performers in the Fest programme – as odd as that may seem). So the anticipation runs high, even two months away and even though I am very sad that there does not seem to be a way for me to make it back in time for the ballet, the gala or symphony concerts or the lecture on a century since South African Union, given by one of my all-time favourite South African historians.

The anticipation of Fest and the knowledge that it is just a couple of months away, make the anticipation of this Opera even more thrilling. Today’s Opera is La Traviata (G Verdi) performed by the Daegu City Opera at the Daegu Opera House. It’s a matinee performance at 4pm. I’ve never seen La Traviata and am very much looking forward to it. I have researched the story, of course, so that I can follow, because the synopsis that is handed out is generally in Korean and therefore not helpful to me. After 10 months I know enough basic Korean to buy things in shops and direct taxi drivers but I definitely cannot claim to speak the language and would probably still, even had I been studying Korean seriously this whole time, not be able to understand enough to follow an Opera synopsis.

In the midst of all this art-sy anticipation, a friend and I are also preparing for a trip to the cultural heartland of Korea next weekend. We’re both quite excited to see some history and culture although the planning is attended in this case by rather a lot of frustration and dead ends – it appears not all Korean tourist destinations have managed to become English-tourist-friendly. At this point we may or may not have booked accommodation at a place that may or may not have an actual name. It should be an interesting weekend and finding out all I can so that we don’t miss any of the wonderfulness is yet another part of why today is a day filled with the anticipation of wonder and the joy of looking forward to the things (and the people with whom I will share those things) that are good and special and joyful in my humble little life.

Madama Butterfly

Adventures, Arts, Daegu, , ,

Life lesson number # (many): Do not wear mascara when going to watch a great tragic opera. Yes, I cried. Even though I knew what was going to happen. It was beautiful.

Someone asked me last night how I understand the opera if it’s in Italian. I definitely don’t speak Italian and the sub-titles at the Daegu Opera House are in Korean, so not particularly helpful to me. What I do is to make sure that I know the story beforehand, so that I can follow what is happening. This works well. In fact, it’s great because I am able to lose myself totally in the music and singing without struggling to follow the story in two foreign languages. As an added benefit, I am slowly becoming properly familiar with the stories of all sorts of operas and ballets (because the ballet synopses are also in Korean), which is never a bad thing.

Last night’s opera was a special performance for the 25th anniversary of the Yeongnam Opera Company. This meant that it was a fairly elaborate production, which is always a bonus. The opera itself is fairly complicated anyway. Sufficiently complicated that Puccini rewrote it 4 times (there are 5 versions) before he got it right. It can’t have been easy to turn the story of an American Naval officer and a Japanese geisha into an Italian opera. Apparently he succeeded because Madama Butterfly is now one of the most-performed operas in the US.

I nearly didn’t get to there last night. There had been plans afoot to take in a musical instead and then I dawdled while getting ready so I was running late. Of course, this point – when I was already running late – would be when I landed a bus-driver who was careful and steady and slow, rather than the insane speed-freaks who could be Joburg taxi drivers and normally drive my buses. I got to the Opera house with 10 minutes to spare, in the end. I have also now established that it takes 1 hour to get from myfront door to the Opera House in Saturday evening traffic. Ticket in hand (30 000 won), I headed up to my seat on the 3rd floor balcony. The balcony seat was a mistake. Not that balcony seats are generally a bad thing but I was in a side-balcony seat, so it was a little difficult to see the whole stage. I still enjoyed myself, though.

I was impressed, the last time I went to an Opera by the set. This one was also impressive. The best description is that it was relatively simple and completely functional but managed to evoke a Japanese scene with ease and elegance. It wasn’t unnecesarily cluttered, which always annoys me in a set, but it wasn’t small either – using the entire stage. The lighting was also, again, excellent. Both the design and execution were spot-on to evoke emotions and create atmosphere in support of the music.

The most important contribution to verisimilitude, however, was from the performers. There were lots of super performances. Cio-Cio San (Madama Butterfly) was excellent and Sharpless’s rich, velvety, chocolatey baritone was gorgeous.

The star of the show for me, though, was Kim Jeong Hwa (I think) singing the part of Suzuki. Her voice was stunning and she paired with excellent characterisation. She was entirely believable in her gestures and mannerisms as Madama Butterfly’s maid and she also paid particular attention to little things. Like shoes. She meticulously took off and straightened her shoes every time she moved from the ‘outdoor’ area of the set into the house. She never once missed it and it did so much to create the separation between the spaces, which were not divided by any sort of physical wall. Her emotions were also believable. The role of Suzuki involves a lot of anguished moments and a fair bit of cowering and crying and she pulled it off.

A particularly entertaining role was that of Goro, the matchmaker. The performer singing this part had a wonderfully light touch and really pulled off the greasy, sleazy pimp-persona and added touches of humour and entertainment at exactly the right moments.

The other small part that was an absolute crowd-pleaser was the monk/priest. In the story, Cio-Cio San’s uncle, a Buddhist priest, storms into the wedding party of Butterfly and Pinkerton (the US Navy officer) and curses her for abandoning her ancestral gods to covert to her new husband’s religion. This issue is particularly relevant in Korea so it’s not surprising that the small part was given quite a lot of prominence and the priest was fierce and very good.

I was less impressed with Pinkerton, not because of his singing; his voice was gorgeous but someone needs to teach him a little acting to go with it. Also, I struggled to get past the awful orange-blond hair on a Korean. It wasn’t sufficiently problematic to detract from the experience though and, as I said, his voice was gorgeous.

Another thing about this show I particularly enjoyed was the chorus. This included a large number of people, including children. In the first Act, a group of women entered dressed as geishas but each with an outfit that was white or cream at the top and fading into colour at the bottom, in pinks and sea-greens and oranges, each also carrying a parasols in the same colour. Such beautiful little tableaux with their parasols and fans as part of the wedding scene!

One of the advantages of sitting on the 3rd floor balcony is that you have a perfect view of the orchestra. I love watching orchestras. The intricate dance of movement and timing is fascinating. I particularly enjoyed both watching and listening to this one, the Daegu Opera Festival Orchestra conducted by Andrea Cappelleri. It made me happy. I also had a delightful view of the percussion section. There were three people playing percussion with a wide range of sizes and types of instruments, from triangles and all sizes and shapes of drums to a bird-whistle for the early morning scene in the final act.

Of course, many moments from the show are worth remembering. The Opera started at 7:30pm and only ended at 10pm, so it was quite a long performance. My two favourite moments were towards the end. Act II ends with Cio-Cio San, Suzuki and Dolore (Cio-Cio San’s child) keeping vigil in the house, now strewn with flowers, as they wait for Pinkerton to arrive. As the orchestra kept the vigil musically through the long night, the stage filled with members of the chorus, each with a single light, like a candle, dressed in white and creating such a stunning impression of a long, candle-light vigil. The second moment that sticks with me, partly because it was the moment of tragedy and partly because it was so sumptuously visual, was the final scene: Cio-Cio San’s body on the floor, surrounded by red and purple flower petals and with more petals falling from the sky and the stage awash in red light fading from the spot-light on her body, with Pinkerton calling for Butterfly in the distance.

I’m not sure it’ll become my favourite opera, but I am so glad I saw it and particularly that I saw it in Asia, where some of the themes of the opera are relevant in everyday life and aspects of culture like not wearing shoes inside and bowing in greeting are easy and normal for the performers, making the show just that little bit more authentic and moving.

After the Opera, I headed downtown to have something to eat before meeting up with friends. I was wandering the streets, searching for somewhere that looked good, when I came across a place called Gom’s something or other – possibly Gom’s Workshop. I’ve never noticed it before, which may mean it only opened recently – places downtown are always opening and closing – or may mean that I just haven’t noticed it before. Now that I know about it, I’ll be going back. Picture an industrial-style space with unpainted walls and bare cement floor, but all the piping painted in bright primary colours. The tables and chairs are all different. Every single one. Some are office chairs, some wicker patio furniture, some director’s chairs. In one corner, there is a mural on the wall – a tottering tower of tea-cups, painted in a sketch-like style directly onto the unfinished surface. The wall behind where I was sitting had shelves with a collection of old things – an old type-writer, some radios, an old telephone, a sewing machine.

It felt like the kind of place where I could sit and drink coffee and read a book for ages. Or write. The tag-line of the place seems to be ‘Walk Slowly. Eat Slowly. Think Slowly.’ I had a basic pizza, which was good. They also seem to be quite excited about their draft beer, which they serve with either lemon or lime – properly differentiated and even differently priced. I tried it. It was actually pretty good. It’s the first time I’ve found a place downtown that I can see myself visiting regularly and on my own. A good find for randomly wandering down the street at 10:30 at night on the way home from the Opera.

Madama Butterfly

Life lesson number # (many): Do not wear mascara when going to watch a great tragic opera. Yes, I cried. Even though I knew what was going to happen. It was beautiful.

Someone asked me last night how I understand the opera if it’s in Italian. I definitely don’t speak Italian and the sub-titles at the Daegu Opera House are in Korean, so not particularly helpful to me. What I do is to make sure that I know the story beforehand, so that I can follow what is happening. This works well. In fact, it’s great because I am able to lose myself totally in the music and singing without struggling to follow the story in two foreign languages. As an added benefit, I am slowly becoming properly familiar with the stories of all sorts of Operas and ballets (because the ballet synopses are also in Korean), which is never a bad thing.

Last night’s opera was a special performance for the 25th anniversary of the Yeongnam Opera Company. This meant that it was a fairly elaborate production, which is always a bonus. The opera itself is fairly complicated anyway. Sufficiently complicated that Puccini rewrote it 4 times (there are 5 versions) before he got it right. It can’t have been easy to turn the story of an American Naval officer and a Japanese geisha into an Italian opera. Apparently he succeeded because this is now one of the most-performed operas.

I nearly didn’t get to there, actually. There had been plans afoot to take in a musical instead and then I dawdled while getting ready so I was running late. Of course, this point – when I was already running late – would be when I landed a bus-driver who was careful and steady and slow, rather than the insane speed-freaks (who could be Joburg taxi drivers) who normally drive my buses. I got to the Opera house with 10 minutes to spare, in the end, however. I have also now established that it takes approximately 1 hour to get from my flat to the Opera House in Saturday evening traffic. Ticket in hand (30 000 won), I headed up to my seat on the 3rd floor balcony. The balcony seat was a mistake. Not that balcony seats are generally a bad thing but I was in a side-balcony seat, so it was a little difficult to see the whole stage. I still enjoyed myself, though.

I was impressed, the last time I went to an Opera by the set. This one was also impressive. The best description is that it was relatively simple and completely functional but managed to evoke a Japanese scene with ease and elegance. It wasn’t finicky, which always annoys me in a set, but it wasn’t small either – using the entire stage. The lighting was also, again, excellent. Both the design and execution were spot-on to evoke emotions and create atmosphere in support of the music.

The most important contribution to verisimilitude, however, was from the performers. There were lots of super performances. Cio-Cio San (Madama Butterfly) was excellent and Sharpless’s rich, velvety, chocolatey baritone was gorgeous.

The star of the show for me, though Kim Jeong Hwa (I think) singing the part of Suzuki. Her voice was stunning and she paired with excellent characterisation. She was entirely believable in her gestures and mannerisms as Madama Butterfly’s maid but she also paid particular attention to little things. Like shoes. She meticulously took off and straightened her shoes every time she moved from the ‘outdoor’ area of the set into the house. She never once missed it and it did so much to create the separation between the spaces, which were not divided by any sort of physical wall. Her emotions were also believable. The role of Suzuki involves a lot of anguished moments and a fair bit of cowering and crying and she pulled it off.

A particularly entertaining role was that of Goro the matchmaker. The performer singing this part had a wonderfully light touch and really pulled off the greasy, sleazy pimp-persona and added touches of humour and entertainment at exactly the right moments.

The other small part that was an absolute crowd-pleaser was the monk/priest. In the story, Cio-Cio San’s uncle, a Buddhist priest, storms into the wedding party of Butterfly and Pinkerton (the US Navy officer) and curses her for abandoning her ancestral gods to covert to her new husband’s religion. This issue is particularly relevant in Korea so it’s not surprising that the small part was given quite a lot of prominence and the priest was fierce and very good.

I was less impressed with Pinkerton, not because of his singing; his voice was gorgeous, but someone needs to teach him a little acting to go with it. Also, I struggled to get past the awful orange-blond hair on a Korean. It wasn’t sufficiently problematic to detract from the experience, though and, as I said, his voice was gorgeous.

Another thing about this show I particularly enjoyed was the chorus. This included a large number of people, including children. In the first Act, a group of women entered dressed as geishas but each with an outfit that was white or cream at the top and fading into colour at the bottom, in pinks and sea-greens and oranges, each also carrying a parasols in the same colour. Such beautiful little tableaux with their parasols and fans as part of the wedding scene!

One of the advantages of sitting on the 3rd floor balcony is that you have a perfect view of the orchestra. I love watching orchestras. The intricate dance of movement and timing is fascinating. I particularly enjoyed both watching and listening to this one, the Daegu Opera Festival Orchestra, conducted by Andrea Cappelleri. It made me happy. I also had a delightful view of the percussion section. There were three people playing percussion with a wide range of sizes and types of instruments, from triangles and all sizes and shapes of drums to a bird-whistle for the early morning scene in the final act.

Of course, many moments from the show are worth remembering. The Opera started at 7:30pm and only ended at 10pm, so it was quite a long performance. My two favourite moments were towards the end. Act II ends with Cio-Cio San, Suzuki and Dolore (Cio-Cio San’s child) are keeping vigil in the house, now strewn with flowers, as they wait for Pinkerton to arrive. As the orchestra kept the vigil musically through the long night, the stage filled with members of the chorus, each with a single light, like a candle, dressed in white and creating such a stunning impression of a long, candle-light vigil. The second moment that sticks with me, partly because it was the moment of tragedy and partly because it was so sumptuously visual, was the final scene, with Cio-Cio San’s body on the floor, surrounded by red and purple flower petals and with more petals falling from the sky and the stage awash in red light fading from the spot on her body, with Pinkerton calling for Butterfly in the distance.

I’m not sure it’ll become my favourite opera, but I am so glad I saw it and particularly that I saw it in Asia, where some of the themes of the opera are relevant in every day life and aspects of culture like not wearing shoes inside and bowing in greeting are easy and normal for the performers, making the show just that little bit more authentic and moving.

After the Opera, I headed downtown to have something to eat before meeting up with friends. I was wandering the streets, searching for somewhere that looked good, when I came across a place called Gom’s something or other – possibly Gom’s Workshop. I’ve never noticed it before, which may mean it only opened recently – places downtown are always opening and closing – or may just mean that I haven’t noticed it. Now that I know about it, I’ll be going back. Picture an industrial-style space with unpainted walls and bare cement floor, but all the piping painted in bright primary colours. The tables and chairs are all different. Every single one. Some are office chairs, some wicker patio furniture, some director’s chairs. In one corner, there is a mural on the wall – a tottering tower of tea-cups, painted in a sketch-like style directly onto the unpainted surface. The wall behind where I was sitting had shelves with a collection of old things, like an old type-writer, some radios, an old telephone, a sewing machine.

It felt like the kind of place where I could sit and drink coffee and read a book for ages. Or write. The tag-line of the place seems to be ‘Walk Slowly. Eat Slowly. Think Slowly.’ I had a basic pizza, which was good. They also seem to be quite excited about their draft beer, which they serve with either lemon or lime – properly differentiated and even differently priced. I tried it. It was actually pretty good. It’s the first time I’ve found a place downtown that I can see myself visiting regularly and on my own. A good find for randomly wandering down the street at 10:30 at night on the way home from the Opera.