Alexander Moyle at Sidespace Gallery

Mobile sculpture by Alexander Moyle


Here's a review that I wrote on Alex Moyle's exhibition at Sidespace Gallery.

I've known Alex Moyle for a few years. We've met over coffee with other creative souls from the neighbourhood. As artists, we have much to talk about, but what impresses most about Alex is his ardent dedication to his art. One can almost feel an aura of creativity floating around him.

It was so inspiring to see his imagination at work at Sidespace Gallery.























Alex talking about his sculpture at opening of Unbalanced

Understanding China

Nathan Street, Hong Kong


My first visit to China. A bit of a culture shock that hit right through the heart. Even though I blended easily with the homogenous Chinese population, I felt like an outsider looking in. Partly because I cannot speak the language. Partly because I grew up in a multicultural island and Canada has been home to me for over 30 years. Cities I visited, Hong Kong, Shenzhen, Guangzhou, Shaoguan, and Meizhou, felt like never-ending Chinatowns.

















Danxian Mountain, Shaoguan


With the kind help of relatives and friends who live there, I immersed myself into Chinese lifestyle, eager to feel the pulse of this country. As the trial-by-fire visit progressed over three weeks, it became easier to adapt to the shouting style of talking, lack of concern for aesthetics, different sense of hygiene, and overwhelmingly generous and self-effacing sense of hospitality. Slowly, the essence of Chinese culture seeped in.

In Shaoguan, it was a moving encounter with the family of Siv Lan, a half-sister who moved to China before I was born. I could only communicate with her in Creole while she translated for the rest of us. She and her husband conveyed their joy of seeing me by feeding me all day, taking me shopping, and went out of their way to accompany me to Meizhou.
















Musician in Lychee Park, Shenzhen

Life in China seemed to be all about working, eating and shopping until I witnessed the most exhilarating part of the culture, something that I could finally identify with. In many parks and open spaces, people danced and played music openly, expressing themselves without inhibition. A free form of entertainment and relaxation for a huge middle class society that seemed to be everywhere, on the streets, restaurants, packing trains full, even willing to stand for a 5-hour ride. At times, I felt as if I was in a Fellini-inspired movie.















Dancers in Lychee Park, Shenzhen


Rivers that run through cities like Shaoguan, Guangzhou, and Meizhou infused a soothing, meditative pace against the effervescence of busy streets. And the mountains were awesome, the way they imposed their calm presence against jutting skyscrapers, rice paddies and countryside lush with tropical vegetation. Often shrouded with mist, they spread their ethereal melancholy across the landscape, reaching a part of my soul that yearns to paint flowing watercolours and write sad poems.















Meizhou















Along the Han Jiang River, Meizhou















Rice paddies, Meizhou


The trip was really a sort of pilgrimage to understand my ancestral roots. Even though China is described in details by my father in a story he wrote about his life, it's always been foreign, a nebulous entity to me. Being there brought a new awareness and appreciation for father's childhood environment. There were emotionally-charged moments when I walked through the village of Pak Koon in Meizhou where father grew up until he moved to Mauritius at the age of ten.















One of the entrances to the house where grandfather lived. Also where uncle Lin Fengmian, the famous painter grew up.

Even though the house had whiffs of mouldy smell, was run down, virtually abandoned, used mostly for storage, with garbage strewn all over, dust covering every inch, I felt a strong connection to its quaint architecture, its courtyard, tiled roofs with peaked corners, and the numerous rooms that grandfather, his brothers and their families occupied.

I could imagine it fully inhabited, a happy place instrumental in forming the father I knew, a traditional man who always put the extended family's needs above his own.






















The old part of Meizhou


I had planned to be in China in October when, I was told, the weather is most pleasant. But I moved my trip so I could join on my third week, the film crew of Alain Gordon-Gentil and David Constantin, the co-producers of Venus d'Ailleurs, a series of documentaries on immigration to Mauritius. China is the last in the series, and I was thrilled to be invited to participate.

Even though I did spew a few expletives at having to endure the suffocating heat, sauna-style in which the body sweats without moving, it was truly amazing to discover Meizhou, not only through father’s eyes, but also those of the documentary crew. To dive not only into my Chinese roots but my Mauritian ones also.











Film crew at work in ancestral home


The crew was very professional, yet very spontaneous, and with such a wonderful sense of humour, which I do miss a lot. They were so funny that Jack, the serious, helpful, efficient Chinese government official accompanying us, even relaxed and smiled.

It was neat to watch Alain Gordon-Gentil and David Constantin’s creative input, cameraman Mahen Bujun’s deep concentration, sound technician Bhimsen Conhyedoss’s quiet efficiency, and assistant Pascal Pierre Louis’s enthusiastic readiness with equipment.

And what a relief to have translator Charles Ng Cheng Hin help us find our way through Meizhou, a city that speaks only Chinese, even in 5 star hotels and restaurants. When he wasn't with us, we had to resort to sign language or drawings.

















This music is very much how I feel about China. And this quote defines my visit, an introspective journey that may take a while to digest and fully understand:

"Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them - that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like. "
Lao Tzu

















Au revoir les amis. Saying goodbye to the little family away from home. From left to right: Bhimsen, Pascal, Alain, David, Charles, Mahen

Menwar at Toronto's Afrofest

What a treat to see Mauritius on stage at Queen's Park. Menwar and his band were performing at Afrofest last Sunday.

The crowd cheered and danced, among them many Mauritian fans waving the national flag. When Percy Yiptong with his booming, theatrical DJ voice, introduced Menwar and his musicians with drums beating in the background, it sent shivers down my spine, as if the island were claiming my heart back ...

I've left Mauritius over 30 years ago and haven't kept in touch with its music scene. It was such a thrill to hear Menwar's innovative version of the sega. The numerous musical instruments he uses, from the waterdrum to a percussion device made from a sardine can ... infused an exotic melody to his songs. Menwar is an original percussionist and a passionate singer who can reach into one's soul. He deserves to be applauded for making his country proud. He was named Artist of the Year by Radio France Internationale.

Way to go Mauritius!

Paris, dear Paris ...

Paris has a way of holding on to me, to my clothes, my hair, my heart. It's a pleasantly cloying feeling. I was there a few months ago to take a break, get some inspiration for my work, and of course spend time with some wonderful friends.























Strolling through Paris is always a feast to the senses, making everything a bit surreal. It's not just the fabulous architecture of old buildings, the calm presence of La Seine with its rippling water and bateaux mouches, the large, open, green areas along the Tuileries, Champs Elysées, Luxembourg, it's also the people. A busker's smile as he reaches out to passers by during his performance en plein air. A woman, sitting alone, reflective, watching people across the pond.

Yes, all the people-watching in cafés, on the streets, all the eye-contact are like thin, invisible wires that emit some kind of charge and make me feel connected to the city.























Had some great laughs watching the play Les homos aiment les blondes. It was also a wonderful experience to discover Caveau de la Huchette, a neat jazz club that has seen some of the greatest, like Count Basie. Surprisingly, it's also a club where you can dance the night away.

Paris felt so comfortable, like elegant, well-worn gloves that never lose their cachet.

Dreams

"Fais de ta vie un rêve, et d'un rêve une réalité."
Antoine de Saint Exupéry
Make your life become a dream, and your dream a reality.

"Si un peu de rêve est dangereux, ce qui en guérit, ce n’est pas moins de rêve, mais plus de rêve, tout le rêve."
Marcel Proust
If a little dreaming is dangerous, the cure for it is not to dream less but to dream more, to dream all the time.

"Man will never stop dreaming. Dreams nourish the soul like food nourishes the body"
Paulo Coelho

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover."
Mark Twain

"I have learned, that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavors to live the life he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours."
Henry David Thoreau

I've been fascinated lately by dreams. They are the product of our imagination, our soul, but are often seen as useless distractions from reality. Yet, dreams have often been channelled into wonderful achievements, and have inspired some of our greatest minds.

Having the courage to follow one's dreams is the first step in making them a reality. It takes incredible faith in ourselves, as well as passion, patience and perseverance but the exhilaration and sense of well-being is worth it even if the journey is sometimes long and arduous. I'm all for making dreams come true.

Terry Fallis's writing workshop

It was such a wonderful treat for the lucky ones who could make it last weekend to Terry Fallis's workshop at Lakeview Inn. Terry showed us how to be more methodical, efficient, and disciplined about our writing. We even managed to do some creative writing, and also learned how to outline, podcast and self-publish. It was a privilege to hear him read a few paragraphs from chapter 5 of his sequel, freshly written in the morning, in the calm, reflective atmosphere of the farm.

Terry's talents did not cease to surprise us. He picked up a guitar that was lying around, and started strumming along and singing. Talk about bonus entertainment ... He even knew old French songs by Harmonium. And he was so good and it was all so magical that Judy joined in with her mandolin, and Diane, Julia and I were singing along and dancing. Terry also sprinkled some humour and a few witticisms as he kindly listened to the stimulating "women-geared" topics of conversation initiated by Suzanne, our renaissance woman. He even offered to help in the kitchen and made delicious scrambled eggs.

Thanks Terry for being such a gentleman. You made the weekend so special for all.

Washington

Last week, I spent a few days with my friend Pam, the best hostess I could wish for: organized, easygoing and fun-loving. Visiting Washington is like walking into American history. You can stand where Martin Luther King made his famous "I have a dream ..." speech and watch Abraham Lincoln's statue towering over The Mall. After strolling in that area, numbers are swirling in my head: 18 million books at the Library of Congress. Over 58,000 names on the Vietnam Memorial Wall. Japan's 1912 gift of 3,000 cherry trees to the city of Washington ...

It was awesome walking under the cherry trees along the Tidal Basin. There's this romantic thing about cherry blossoms, their soft pink petals so lush and sensual, yet so fragile and ethereal when they scatter on the ground, on water, like confetti.

Le Chercheur d'Or

" Il y aurait la mer, l'odeur de la mer portée par le vent, le bruit de la mer, et nous écouterions en frissonnant sa voix oubliée qui nous dirait: ne partez plus, ne partez plus." Le Chercheur d'Or par J.M.G. Le Clézio

"There was the sea, the smell of the sea drifting from the wind, the sound of the sea, and we would listen, shivering, to its forgotten voice telling us: don't leave, don't leave."

There is something haunting about Le Clézio's description of the sea in this novel, part of which takes place on the island of Mauritius between 1892 and 1911. But the presence of the sea, the way it seeps into the novel, and latches on to the reader's mind feels so overwhelmingly real that I'm there gliding along the waves with young Alexis. It makes me realize how much I miss the sea as I sit here in my studio looking at the CN tower bathed in the pink glow of dawn.

Le Chercheur d'Or (The Prospector) is the story of a man searching for treasure buried by corsairs on the island of Rodrigues. His long journey gains spiritual meaning in the end when he discovers that the real treasure is love and beauty around him.

So true how we often can't see what we have until we take a long, arduous journey that puts things into perspective.

Mauritian and Indian writers

Snowfalls like these can be so beautiful and romantic and yet so sad ...

But ah, March is here. A whiff of spring wafting tentatively. A few days ago the cutting cold would discourage any form of life to venture out. But we Canadians have developed thick skin. Come snow or ice, we're out dancing, going to theatres, concerts, hockey arenas ... I've been warding off the cold by devouring books that spill with warmth and sunshine in spite of their heart-breaking themes. My latest passion: Mauritian and Indian writers.

Le Dernier Frère by Nathacha Appanah is a story that moves with wonderful fluidity and rhythm. Appanah's ease in expressing strong emotions without being too sentimental makes Raj so real that we feel as if we're right beside him throughout the book. Raj is a young boy whose father, a prison guard, comes home drunk every night and beats him. Raj finds solace in his friendship with a boy who lives in the prison camp. David is one of the 1500 Jews who were not allowed to enter Palestine and were detained in Mauritius by the British during the Second World War. David's parents died in the camp and Raj's two brothers died in a storm. Their shared sorrow is palpable. It's a moving story of friendship, loss, and the courage of survival in the lush tropical island where I grew up. Appanah's writing is sensual, poetic, rich in details. She gets the reader involved with her characters to the point of being moved to tears. I needed a lot of Kleenex.

The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy is a fantastic book my friend Chris gave me. Thanks Chris. The book is a little treasure chest of words strung together in an emphatic style that makes every detail jump out. Roy's lavish use of similes, and metaphors sometimes brushed with humour, is brilliant and shows a quick and creative mind constantly on the move. "The sky was orange, and the coconut trees were sea anemones waving their tentacles, hoping to trap and eat an unsuspecting cloud." is just one example of her evocative descriptions. Reading her feels as if I'm walking in an exotic market place with an abundance of colours, sounds, smells, movement. I'm so taken by her writing style and the profusion of images that the story almost seems secondary. But of course it's all perfectly interwoven. The compelling story of Rahel and her twin brother Estha, as they shift from innocence to tragic journeys in life, also exposes the politics and social disparities of India. It is an amazing read.

Writing workshop with Terry Fallis

Have you always wanted to write a short story or a novel? Or would you just like to get your creative writing juices going? Here is an opportunity to learn the art of writing from award-winning authors in the inspiring atmosphere of Lakeview Inn, a renovated farm surrounded by 70 acres of rolling pasture and forest.

My friend Judy and I are thrilled to offer a series of writing workshops. The first one, on the weekend of May 1-3, 2009, will be led by Terry Fallis, the 2008 winner of the Stephen Leacock medal for humour. Terry will talk about structure, outlines, editing, podcasting and self-publishing. You can read more about this talented writer here. Prices includes meals, accommodation, and workshop. For more info , please e-mail me at peggylampotang@yahoo.ca

About winter, books, escapism

I love winter, especially on a walk during a fresh snowfall, when tiny white dots twirl around and change the city into a spectacular winter wonderland. Cold months are also perfect for reading away, snuggled cozily in bed, while storms rage outside. Some books I've truly enjoyed:

Quartiers de Pamplemousses, a novel by Alain Gordon-Gentil, is a collection of stories told candidly by a teenager who grapples with a world of eccentric and lovable personalities. Gordon-Gentil writes with great economy of words, and sensitive attention to details. He brings out the absurd with humour and kindness. It was a pleasure to read the quirky things people do in Mauritius, things that I had forgotten, but now seem so precious and uproariously funny. I laughed so hard that I felt as if I was floating, you know that good feeling when your spirits are up. Some of the stories reminded me of Stephen Leacock's Sunshine sketches of a little town.

La révolte du pronétariat, written by Joël de Rosnay, a well-known French scientist with family ties to Mauritius, is a fascinating book that challenges us to look deeper into the internet revolution, the way it has democratized our information system, giving power to the mass, which De Rosnay aptly calls the "pronétariat". The book analyzes the positive as well as the negative aspects of the communication power we now have in our hands. Many ethical questions are raised, and their ramifications overwhelming, even scary. I'd like to believe that goodness of humankind will prevail, that we will use the web as a collective conscience to better our world. Vous pouvez voir De Rosnay parler de son livre ici

Mister Pip by Loyd Jones was another book that I read avidly. The story is told from a young girl's point of view. Matilda lives on a small island during a civil war, and finds a most unlikely friend in Pip, a character in Charles Dickens' Great Expectations. Jones' novel is a tribute to the power of books. He takes us into the innocent, yet fertile imagination of Matilda who absorbs Dickens' story to the point where it becomes part of her life, guiding her through difficult situations while providing solace and hope from the horrors of war.

As we face the gloom of a sinking economy, deteriorating environment, ongoing wars, and our own personal problems, it's therapeutic to indulge in books as a form of escapism. Perhaps, while we're stimulating our mind, dreaming of happier times, who knows, creative solutions may sprout up.

Sidespace Gallery Exhibition

Sidespace Gallery is holding a group exhibition titled Life in the Cemetery. I'm taking part in it with a few photos and a poem. Please drop by if you're in the neighbourhood.

Cemeteries have always been a mystery to me, a bit overwhelming with all the past lives they represent. For this project, I happened to be at Prospect on a foggy day. I felt as if I was walking into a giant cloud, its mistiness softening contours of scraggly branches, people visiting graves of their loved ones. It was eerie yet peaceful, a cemetery yet a pleasant garden to stroll by.















Invitation from Schuster Gindin, curator of Sidespace Gallery:

LIFE in the Cemetery

January 18 – February 20, 2009

Opening Sunday, January 18, 3 – 6 pm

Prospect Cemetery is the largest greenspace in our neighbourhood. It is a stop along the flightway for migratory birds. It is an arboretum where trees mature uncrowded, and expand to their natural shape. Within it are gravestones with slowly fading inscriptions, fading silk and top-heavy plastic flowers inclining toward the grass, a beech grove, stilled artillery and candles fizzled in the rain.

What here is transitory and what permanent? In a group exhibition of painting and photographs, artists consider life amidst the dead.

1080 St. Clair Ave. W www.sidespacegallery.com

Joyeuses fêtes

It's that time of year again ... To friends and relatives who read this blog, and to all who happen to land on it from your searches on French writers, artists, etc., have a wonderful holiday season.

Je vous souhaite tous une joyeuse fête et une bonne année remplie de belles surprises ...

Sarah Brightman in Toronto

Sarah Brightman in concert last Sunday at Air Canada Centre.


















"Et quand dans la nuit, tout s'endormit
Je vis les cieux devant mes yeux fermés"

Extract from Dans la Nuit - Chopin adapted by Peterson. Lyrics by Strasse-Petersongs/Warner/Chappel

And when at night, all went to sleep
I saw heaven with my eyes closed

Arstcape Wychwood Barns Gala opening

The gala opening and fundraising for Artscape Wychwood Barns last Saturday was an amazing example of how hard work and dogged determination can make the vision of a community come to fruition. I had been to the first fundraising many years ago, when the Streetcar Barns were just that, unused old buildings languishing, an eyesore, but the idea of making it a creative centre for artists had germinated and caught the spirit of the community. Seeing the results last week was such an uplifting moment.

When we entered the renovated building through the main hall with its high ceilings and large warehouse-style exposed parts, my friend Maryse and I were overwhelmed by the buzz of over four hundred people already milling around, drinking, and tasting appetizers from restaurants in the neighbourhood. Artists displaying their work in the studios, musicians, and performers infused a rich and inspiring atmosphere to the event. I met artists, writers, filmmakers, architects, dancers, environment advocates from the community and they all shared their positive feelings about this creative hub.

Mayor Miller gave a speech which you can view on this blog

The Wychwood Barns will not only focus on art, but will also have a weekly organic food market. It also plans to be environmentally friendly. More info here

Dawn at the farm

It is truly magical waking up early and watching the fog lift up, the rising sun weaving through with its transparent glow. Mist has an ethereal quality that fires up the romantic imagination. But here, I feel deep loneliness, yet total communion with this random, filigreed pattern of bare trees.














"Et le paysage à moitié construit à moitié démoli
à moitié réveillé à moitié endormi
s'effondre dans la guerre le malheur et l'oubli
et puis il recommence une fois la guerre finie
il se rebâtit lui-même dans l'ombre
..."

Extrait du poème Le Paysage Changeur par Jacques Prévert

And the landscape half-built half-spoiled
half-awake half-asleep
crumbles in battles tragedy oblivion
and then it starts again when the war is done
it rebuilds itself in the shadow
...

Venus d'Ailleurs ... From so far ...

Last week, I reconnected with Mauritius through two documentaries on African and Indian migration to the island. They are part of a series of four (the one on French and Chinese migration still in progress) titled Venus d'Ailleurs ... From so Far ..., produced by David Constantin and Alain Gordon-Gentil, a prolific man who has written nine books, and won a prize at the Cannes Festival for a short film he produced on Gandhi.

Gordon-Gentil was in Toronto to present his documentaries. The first one I saw on October 22nd at Alliance Française de Toronto was about how Africans came to Mauritius, a poignant account of their plight when they were sold as slaves to work on sugarcane plantations owned by French colonizers. The other presentation on October 23rd at Bai'tul mosque in Maple was about the migration of Indians hired to work on sugarcane fields in Mauritius after slavery was abolished. The documentaries put us into the heart of the people through evocative writing, music, dramatic shots, interviews, and pertinent historical information. They stir compassion for the struggles and difficult living conditions of Africans and Indians who first arrived in Mauritius. At both events, guests were very moved, some to tears. For me, it was a journey that awakened long-dormant attachments to the rich, multicultural aspects of a country I left a long time ago.

It was also my first time in a mosque and I was touched by the atmosphere of tolerance it fostered in hosting the screening, welcoming guests of different ethnic and religious backgrounds, even treating us to a buffet dinner. After the presentation, Gordon-Gentil mingled with the crowd to answer their questions. His easy-going personality, unbound enthusiasm about his work, and interest in people made it a pleasant and inspiring evening for all.

I'd like to thank my good friend Paul Comarmond, Secretary General of IOCP (International Organization of Creole People). He made possible Gordon-Gentil’s presentations in Toronto by including it in Creole Month, an event he helped establish to recognize the importance of Creole in the world.

Quebec City

I was in Quebec City during the Francophone summit with my dear friend Pam, the Washington correspondent for Weekend. Over 50 heads of states were there, among them the Prime Minister of Mauritius, but President Sarkozy was really the big buzz. Glad he didn't bring Carla with him. There would have been hordes to deal with. I was already overwhelmed by blocked streets, helicopters hovering above buildings, soldiers in army fatigues positioned around the Congress centre. Add to that a constant stream of black limos with official flags, followed by cars, vans equipped with security and it was enough to make you feel Quebec City had been transformed into a tense, scary place, a danger zone. Once you got past tightly-guarded Congress Centre, The Hilton and Chateau Frontenac, and walked along Rue St. Jean, the city was its usual self with restaurants and shopkeepers eager to please. Vieux Québec was charming as usual. Rue du Petit-Champlain's cute stores, their stonewalls covered with climbing plants, exuded a cozy atmosphere which made me want to stroll along lazily, listen to music, sit in a café and do absolutely nothing ... or well, perhaps flirt with those friendly Québécois. Passion Francophonie, a show at Palais Montcalm, treated us to talented francophone singers and musicians from Vietnam, Haiti, Madagascar, to name a few. Nightlife was fun. We listened to a Québécois singer strumming his guitar while singing ballads and country songs at Le Pape-Georges a cavernous space, so tight that people sit huddled against each other. This proximity allowed us to chat with the musician and even ask him to play songs for us. Jazz at The Clarendon Hotel was the opposite, the lounge expansive with plenty of distance between patrons, the music pleasantly mellow. Fleuve St. Laurent shimmered as we walked along the boardwalk. 

I love Quebec city, especially when it's not -35º C. It was neat to rediscover it with Pam and her warm

 enthusiasm.

Nobel Prize Winner's ties to Mauritius

It was neat to hear that the Nobel prize winner Jean-Marie Gustave Le Clézio has ties to Mauritius, the island where I was born. This article in The New York Times mentions that his family is from there, and that he divides his time between Nice, Mauritius and Albuquerque. Another article from African Press Agency even mentions that he is dedicating his prize to Mauritius. I imagine it'll be a great boost for the island's tourism industry.

I've read only one of Le Clézio's book, Le Procès-Verbal (The Interrogation) a while ago, and I remember feeling the same disconnection in his main character as when I read Camus' l'Étranger (The Outsider). It's not the kind of book that makes you feel great afterwards, but it does makes you go deeper into yourself and question what life is all about.

It's so inspiring to hear that he is a world traveller, that his experiences living in different countries have guided his writing. I now want to read all his books to understand better why he won the Nobel Prize.

Artwalk 2008 exhibition

I'm gearing up towards my photography exhibition for Artwalk, the St. Clair Arts festival and studio tour. Please drop by to see the show, and taste a chocolate sample.




















A photography exhibition
exploring sensuality through form, movement and texture.
Location: Chocolate Sense, 1129 St. Clair West, Toronto
Time: Saturday September 27, 11- 7 pm, Sunday Sept 28, 12-5 pm