Micah Barnes and Rene Highway strolling home late at night on College street while I’m up a ladder changing the Marquee for next night’s movie. I loved working at the Lumiere. Though owner Steve was called the snow plow not for reasons of winter effort but for shoveling what went up his nose. Eventually the cinema was lost. At least I saw three films by Pasolini, changing my life three times. You could tell he used locals from villages where he shot The Gospel According to St. Matthew or Medea or Canterbury Tales. So many looked so unusual and compelling and acting too perfect to be actors. The stories so believable because of them.
.
When I toured Italy, accompanying my tiny videos on accordion, I met a couple film students one night after playing Ferrara and they told me on my next day’s drive I could take a detour to where Pasolini was buried. How could I not? Very memorable. The bastards killed him which is another story. He’s buried next to his mother. In Paris, Magali and I went to Pere Lachaise, so incredible. Rossini, Edith Piaf, Oscar Wilde, The Lizard King. Why don’t they advertise European Cemetery Tours? Wouldn’t people be dying to go?
.
I brought a guitar to work sometimes and after the theatre was emptied and the garbage collected and doors locked, I could stand on the stage and play to a pretend audience. They usually wanted an encore. I recommend that job for that reason. I had keys to a church on Bloor street which also offered me unique secret late night performance opportunities. Sometimes I feel like I’m still in the same place, sometimes I don’t. In recent times I see Micah Barnes on Instagram acquiring students of voice. His teacher persona is well deserved but does not remind of the version I greeted from the ladder walking in love down College, but one is not supposed to be the same after decades, or are they?<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"