Memories of Bonnie Scotland

It rained in Edinburgh. A lot. In fact, it was the rainiest year in over 100 years. Scotland is renowned for its soggy climate, so imagine how wet was. Rain on the castle, rain on the cobblestone streets and rain on the umbrellas of folk waiting in line to buy tickets for my show Whiskey Bars.

It was wet, soggy theatre madness. You think the Canadian Fringes are crazy – they have nothing on this elephant of a festival - over 2000 different theatre shows were performing. Which adds up to 19 000 (that's right - nineteen thousand!) performers wandering the streets trying to get audiences to come to their shows. Over the course of the three week festival around 1.7 million tickets were sold. And for our whole last week I watched the rain fall on my glorious sold-out line-ups… The average size for an audience at a show in Edinburgh is 8 people (that’s right, just Eight warm bodies), so a full house is a dream come true.

We arrived here on August 1st as an unknown Canadian one-man show. When we walked into our tiny venue we didn't expect much – it was seedy, to put it politely. A crumbling door at the end of a dank alleyway beside a gloomy ancient cemetery. The theatre is a 500-year-old vaulted church basement. Right next door is one of Edinburgh's least glamorous massage parlours, and on the other side armored cars bring in criminals to the Law Courts that sit high above. Reviewers have said complimentary things like "the seedy, dank atmosphere of the Vault creeps into every sinew of this performance".





I can't argue...but the locale was perfect for a one-man exploration of the music of Kurt Weill--composer of Mack the Knife. Weill basically invented a whole new style of music theatre in the 1920's, working with Bertold Brecht. I've been obsessed with Weill's music for years - I first heard his songs in a cabaret in East Berlin in the 1980's while living in a squat in West Berlin. How could I not fall in love after the glamour of squeaking through Checkpoint Charlie, sitting in a dank bar watching a cabaret show while drinking harsh Eastern Bloc vodka.

I first performed Whiskey Bars at the 2000 Toronto Fringe Festival. It took me years of touring, reworking the show and tweaking the script before I felt like it was good enough to bring to the Edinburgh Fringe Festival. At the beginning in Edinburgh we played to audiences of three and four enthusiastic friends. We begged the folk who work in the theatres to come and check out the show, hoping to start some buzz. And amazingly, it worked. Britain's prestigious theatre mag, The Stage, dropped by & gave us a double thumbs-up: "Like Hedwig with far better melodies" they said. We got Five Stars from The Edinburgh Fringe Review, and Five Stars from Edinburgh's Broadway Baby Review. (you can read all the reviews here)

So, amazingly, for once, it worked. A little show wandered into town on a wing and a prayer, our whole gamble paid off (we even covered the cost of getting over there) the glowing reviews kept stacking up. The only question for the summer was, of course, could we handle any more British weather?

Whiskey Bars at Bread and Circus in Kensington Market every Tuesday at 8pm. Tickets $10.00 at the door, or through www.breadandcircus.ca





yes, that is a tea cozy....

Cease and Desist!

The Cease and Desist on “Whiskey Bars” (my cabaret with the songs of Kurt Weill) arrived from the New York lawyers the day before opening night. It was one of those fine spring Canadian mornings—after the rains but before the mosquitoes—and things had been looking pretty good as I wandered into the Festival office. I’d just come from the Hamilton Festival where “Whiskey Bars” had gone famously; they’d even used my crazed miniature piano promo image for the general Festival poster.

But I should have known something was wrong when the festival director leapt up, handed me a fax and pushed me back out the door, obviously wanting nothing to do with anything with the name of a New York law office printed across the top.

I sat on the steps of the building and read: “Cease and Desist.” In accordance with the theatrical and copyright controls over Kurt Weill’s music, I was hereby forbidden from performing his works and would be held liable in court for the unlicensed use of his music to this point. All further performances of the show “Whiskey Bars” with the songs of Kurt Weill, must be cancelled. Period.

But, but, but…I reread. Unlicensed. That wasn’t right—I had a license! I had paid for a standard contract with the Canadian society that deals with music sung live in concert. I’d been warned that the Kurt Weill Foundation was strict about using Weill’s legacy, so I’d tried to do the right thing. And this was a tiny one-man cabaret! Really tiny. Just me, with a bit of pancake makeup and a handful of songs. With the string of legal names on this letter, it felt like swatting a tiny Canadian mosquito with a huge New York Yankees baseball bat.

My first instinct was the one that has carried me boldly forward all my life in this career — I would run and hide. If I headed into the uncharted North, it might be weeks before they tracked me down. I could live off the grid, hunting for my meat, scavenging a few meager crops; I could survive for years, madly singing Weill alone, until their helicopters found me.

But as I headed home to pack my bag, a sense of desperate calm descended. I knew the Foundation forbade any unauthorized theatrical interpretations of Weill’s music theatre. But my show had songs sung pretty much as I’d do them in concert, set in a dramatic throughline. I had tried to follow the rules. Hadn’t I? Perhaps I could reason with them, beg with them, persuade them. Lawyers are people with hearts and emotions, aren’t they?

I changed my route and headed for a new and empowering destination: the local internet café. Several mega-espressos later, my fears seemed ludicrous. I had to confront this team of authoritarians and nit pickers, show them they couldn’t cow me. In a caffeinated frenzy, I drafted faxes, emails, printed up propositions, and by noon I had summed up my strongly worded missives in a couple of brief bullet points:

‘Hi, ummmmm, really, really, sooooooo really sorry about this. Super sorry, in fact. Honest, truly, I thought it was all legal and, in fact, I kind of still think the show is really good, in fact, people seem to like it… could we work something out, that is, just let me know, whenever you can, no hurry, I’ll be waiting. All the best. Hope the weather’s nice in Gotham.’

And attached to that threatening email, I sent them a full script of the show, a list of the songs I was singing, my Hamilton reviews, an explanation of what I was trying to do with the songs. I wanted to add “xo” at the bottom, just for luck.

So I waited. And I waited. I could have phoned New York, but honestly, when dealing with teams of lawyers, I felt like a Neanderthal, all inarticulate grunts. The day went by with no email reply. Opening night was 24 hours away, so I returned to the Festival office to see if I could put off canceling the show till the last minute. They cringed but agreed.

I spent a terrible sleepless night. My whole summer had been planned around doing a Canadian tour of different cities with this show— this would mean months of admin and rehearsal and fees down the drain.

The next morning there was a curt email from New York. “Dear Mr. Duthie. Performances at this festival only can continue. We will review your material. Thank you.”

It was like reading a SMS text message after a first date – Yes, they said 'can'. I love them. And hey, they thanked me! That must mean they love me! Everything is going to be all right. I kicked my heels, said blessings to the gods of theatre and headed out to do the show.

And somehow the deities of theatre did smile on me: my script and letter arrived during the Weill Foundation’s annual directors meeting. Weill experts and scholars, singing stars like the incredible interpreter of Weill’s music Teresa Stratas…all these people were actually meeting when my note arrived. And they liked my script. They sent me a letter from the Foundation saying that the Board had loved my show, loved my reviews and that from henceforth I would receive the enthusiastic support of the Kurt Weill Foundation for my efforts to sing the work of this most amazing composer.

So now I just have to do Weill justice.

Whiskey Bars every Tuesday at Bread and Circus in Kensington Market - tickets at www.breadandcircus.ca

Opening Whiskey

Played the first night last week of Whiskey Bars in Toronto. Fab! A great house of friends and theatre folk and a great cabaret setting. Bread and Circus in Kensington Market is perfect! The Vampyre paintings (look closely at the above pic) in the trendy little bar up front add to the general decadent cabaret atmosphere.





And the tiny theatre has a nice lighting hang, good sound and puts me in the lap of the audience. Which suits the show perfectly.





I'll be curious to see if the show develops a relationship to the Toronto audiences in the next 5 weeks. It's developed into such a dark story about this obsessed man on some personal road to redemption that I never know now whether it's going to click with the general 'zeitgeist' in a city. The Scottish at the Ed Fringe got it, but they have a dark, dark sense of humour... come to think of it, maybe that's where I got mine...

Creatures from the Id!!!!

A night out at La Villette Park in the north of Paris for their outdoor movie series - with their amazing inflatable full size movie screen. A picnic of fine food, a crowd French movie enthusiasts, a lovely evening and a truly wonderfully shlocky B movie - the Forbidden Planet

Up in the air

First day back home in Paris. Totally, brutally jet-lagged after long flight from Vancouver. Lisa drags me down to the Ferris Wheel in the Tuileries Gardens... I protest, a little, but find that in fact I still really like being up in the air... maybe its just that the view is better when you're not at 30,000 feet.

Fire on the Water

Couldn't resist posting some pics from the web of the amazing lightening storm on Saturday night. - and none of these pics are photo-shopped! - I was having a drink with a friend and when we saw the light we jumped up thinking there was a boat on fire in the harbour.

First an incredible Orange sunset, and then an immense lightening storm...

Fire down below

I flew to Vancouver to see my Mom yesterday and we went right over the fires in the Okanagan... the smoke had shrouded the whole of the Rockies and then we came to this very impressive blaze... apparently they evacuated another 3000 people today - you can see why...

Footage - the Barker

edited video of latest Cabaret work - The Barker's Spiel. Songs of Tom Waits, Nirvana, Jacques Brel...




first presented at the London Fringe Festival, The Barker's Spiel plays with cliches and stereotypes of cabaret and lounge singers, mixing and matching singers and songs.

the London Free Press says

"Bremner Duthie promises that miracles will happen as he opens his new show The Barker's Spiel at the London Fringe. He also offers a "side order of belief" and a "tiny sliver of hope."From carnival barker to Las Vegas performer to Berlin Cabaret singer, Duthie gives us the scoop on life as an entertainer. Everyone's looking to be entertained -- and Duthie serves up wares such as white-fingered monkeys and red velvet hats, juggling, singing and dancing…..

Why oh why do they sit there...

Alright, I feel a bit guilty about sneaking a picture of my neighbours, because they are sweet and charming and pleasant people. But this is becoming a wonder. What are they doing.... in their backyard, just inside their garage, all day, every day. They're such nice neighbours and they have a huge, beautiful house and a huge, beautiful garden. And they sit here, on the concrete, in front of the car. Occasionally she knits, he moves bits of wood around, mostly they doze. Occasionally they have a barbecue and they eat in the garage beside the car... Why? Oh my head hurts. Its not for the shade - they have a 'gazebo' in the garden, and its not for a view - they can only see the back of their house and a sliver of a street... Sigh!... I dunno... I'm not judging - they can sit anywhere they damn well like - its their home....I hope it makes them blissfully happy to sit on the concrete behind the car in the garage... but its very odd

Court and Spark - A song a day

today's song is track 3 on the album - Court and Spark by Joni Mitchell



Court and Spark is the amazing Joni Mitchell album where she begins to seriously indulge her interest in Jazz, weaving jazz chords and harmonies into a pop setting. It went to the #2 spot on billboard in 1974 and stayed there for a month. Its a beautiful album. But, oddly enough, the musicians who I worked with in France, being serious, serious jazz guys, had never heard of it, or heard this track. Which left us free to start afresh, so to speak. The word street rap was thrown around (in a very thick Parisian accent) and the guitarist edited down the chords to a basic blues progression, and then we come up with this arrangement - which, oddly enough, features serious jazz musicians taking a jazz inspired pop song and simplifying it and taking aspects of rap and blues and layering those on top. I'm still not sure what I think of it - one day I love it, since I get to hear the bones of the song anew, and the next day I think - 'what the hell were we thinking...'


you can always hear more from the album, and buy digital downloads of individual tracks at itunes.com, or pick up a physical version of the CD by emailing me or dropping by www.cdbaby.com

Gamelaning

A couple of pics from our concert last month with the Gamelan I've been playing with in Toronto. Verrrry serious looking I am... It was a lovely event - so relaxing to be playing this wonderful Indonesian instrument in an orchestra of quiet chimes and gongs.

more me...

Found this video and interview posted on the Free Press site




Ack - always hard to watch yourself - I find myself being very earnest during the interview, but to give myself credit: the journalist walked into my first tech rehearsal when we only had 45 minutes left to set up the show, and so I was being interviewed about the meaning of a show that I had never performed while all I could think about was that we hadn't set the lights for the last half of the piece. You can also click on this link to see the interview and a brief flash of the moment of me singing Some of These Days by Shelton Brooks.....

A Song a Day

today's song is (logically enough) track 2 on the album - Again by Lionel Newman




I fell in love with the song when I heard Mel Torme's version. I love the long and complex melodic lines and the enigmatic, ironic text. We were playing around with this and finally Thierry (who is from Madagascar and has played with Brazilian bands) suggested a slight Samba rhythm on the drums. Benoit joined in and suddenly we had this uptempo lilting version.

Apparently the song comes from a 1937 gangster movie called roadhouse, which is described as a 'noir cabaret'. I have yet to find a copy, but I'd love to see it one day.


you can always hear more from the album, and buy digital downloads of individual tracks at itunes.com, or pick up a physical version of the CD by emailing me or dropping by www.cdbaby.com

A Song a Day

putting up a song from the new album every day.

This is the lovely 'Lover Come Back to Me'



This slow interpretation was a reaction against the many versions of this song which are upbeat and bouncy, even though the words are totally desperately tragic. We took the first words of the song, 'The Sky Was Blue', as the title of the album - enigmatic, and kind of bittersweet.

you can always hear more from the album, and buy digital downloads of individual tracks at itunes.com, or pick up a physical version of the CD by emailing me or dropping by www.cdbaby.com

Back at the Ranch,

Just back from the London Fringe Festival - a really great time there. The show did most of what I hoped for it: that is, I was hoping that I was writing an exploration of Cabaret and Performance, and a lot of folks came back to me with the enthusiastic feedback that's what they got out of it. I'll drop the whole review from the Free Press into this blog - since, I think she caught a lot of the show.

"Bremner Duthie promises that miracles will happen as he opens his new show The Barker's Spiel at the London Fringe. He also offers a "side order of belief" and a "tiny sliver of hope."From carnival barker to Las Vegas performer to Berlin Cabaret singer, Duthie gives us the scoop on life as an entertainer. Everyone's looking to be entertained -- and Duthie serves up wares such as white-fingered monkeys and red velvet hats, juggling, singing and dancing….. but his best offering is his astute insight. After the shows are over and the crowds go home, Duthie tells us what it's really like, such as being sick in a hotel room, saying goodbye to an uptight loved one, never really being appreciated and then dying alone. Or what about this ending? You reach stardom, such as Louis Armstrong, and then are mourned by thousands. At Armstrong's funeral, we find out that Ella Fitzgerald, Governor Rockefeller, and Guy Lombardo were among the honourary pallbearers. He calls us neurotics, post-traumatics, introverts, extroverts, . . . ." And then slides into a little Cheap Trick with "Didn't I See You Crying." He sings in a whisper and then belts out a bar tune. He chastises; then caresses. He's sarcastic; then honest. A dreamer and a schemer….. He gets his laughs. He entertains."

She captures a lot of the show, but I feel like a whole chunk of what I was trying to do didn't make it over the footlights, so I'm heading back into the rehearsal hall with the piece to tighten it up and to see if I can make some the links and stories clearer.