Image
File
March 24, 2004
Culture
e the other press ©
Practicing Democracy
Creating dialogue and law
Carla Elm Clement
OP Contributor
“Come back home with me,” Angel
says to Karla as they huddle togeth-
er in the cold and rain. “I'll take care
of you, girl.” Words of comfort,
except that for Angel ‘home’ is a
dumpster she shares with her com-
panion, Trade. Watching an early
scene from Practicing Democracy, |
better realized the hardships and
daily concerns of those directly
affected by: province-wide welfare
cuts: a dumpster isn’t just a source of
discarded pop cans, clothing and
food, for many it’s the only shelter
available—it's a place called home.
Headlines Theatre’s Practicing
Democracy is stark, enlightening and
ultimately empowering, for actors
and audience alike. As Headlines’
Artistic Director, David Diamond,
explains at the start of the play, the
audience is about to experience a
unique kind of theatre—theatre
that breaks down distinctions of
actor and audience, stage and seats,
voice and silence. This is participa-
tory theatre along the lines of
renowned Brazilian _—_ director
Augusto Boal. The ‘spectator’
becomes the ‘spect-actor.’ At the end
of _the brief 25-minute _ play,
Diamond returns to the stage.
“Now we're going to present it
again,” he says with a smile, his eyes
grandmother, Nan, to take her in.
As I play out the role of Elaine, and
Nan refuses to help, I argue that I
could organize her medication and
provide safety—that we could help
each other. Nan isn’t convinced. She
asks how I'll be able to afford rent
and refuses to raise a newborn. I end
up frustrated, but this is part of the
exercise. Diamond facilitates the
ensuing discussion. “We have expec-
tations about family, don’t we,” he
asks the audience. “That they'll
come together and help each other.”
But this doesn’t always happen.
Emily Maine, who plays Elaine, is
a single mom with first-hand
knowledge of low-income survival.
And her situation is compelling: she
used to be a welfare worker until
welfare cuts ended her job and she
ended up on welfare herself.
Distinctions of oppressor and
oppressed begin to fade. As we sit
on the back steps of the theatre after
the play, Maine describes her frus-
trations in front-line welfare work:
“T felt like my hands were always
tied,” she says passionately. She
takes a drag on her cigarette. Maine
is keen to raise awareness of her per-
spective and the perspective of oth-
ers affected by welfare cuts. I ask
what practicing democracy means
to her. “It means giving everybody a
way to plug in—to connect—and
to have their voice heard.” Her only
food line-up violence is a fearful
reality that many in the audience
arent aware of
intense. This time, he invites any-
one in the audience to stop the play
and come forward if they have an
idea how to change a character's
actions—if these new actions will
help to ‘create safety’ in the charac-
ter’s life. A ripple of unease passes
through the audience. No one seems
prepared to pass through the barrier
from spectator to participant. But,
as the play resumes, many do come
forward. Each shares an idea for
change—some naive, some brilliant.
Each audience intervention raises
questions of practicality. Most sug-
gestions present new, unforeseen
barriers to safety. Standing in a food
line rather than swiping produce
from a grocer is shot down: food
line-up violence is a fearful reality
that many in the audience aren't
aware of.
After each intervention,
Diamond calls upon the audience to
voice suggestions—specific ideas for
policy change—that will be sent to
Vancouver City Hall. He points out
a woman with a laptop at the back
of the theatre. She’s a lawyer hired to
record and compile all suggestions.
And City Hall has agreed to honour
the resulting document. Not only is
Practicing Democracy patticipatory
theatre, it’s a true attempt at legisla-
tive theatre.
I decide to participate in a scene
with Elaine, a jobless pregnant
woman who asks her low-income
concern is that the play ends up
preaching to the converted.
“Who are the converted?”
Diamond asks when I mention
Maine's concern. “I don’t think the
converted exist,” he says emphati-
cally. He stresses that everyone takes
away something new from each per-
formance, whether they’re content,
living a life of oppression or know of
others that are struggling. Or if
they're an oppressor themselves,
whether they realize it or not.
“Oppressors are always part of the
community,” Diamond points out.
Practicing Democracy is about pro-
viding a space for dialogue and
empowerment. And about coming
up with practical ideas for change
that will help to diminish the roles
of oppressed and oppressor alike. I
shows us the harsh realities that
many around us grapple with daily.
In a warm-up exercise, Diamond
asks the audience to stand and
remain standing if we know some-
one affected by the welfare cuts.
Only a few people sit back down.
Diamond pauses then says, “the
story is with us in Vancouver.”
Practicing Democracy ended its
runon March 21, but the resultig
document lives on. For more infor-
mation about Practicing Democracy,
visit their website at
.
Visit Headlines Theatre at
.
Rugby Beach Club Grille
—The Art of A la Carte
Amanda Aikman
Culture Editor
When was the last time you treated
yourself to a fancy-pants dinner
out? Bearing in mind that opting
for the Filet o’ Fish does not consti-
tute fancy-pantsedness.
Well, if it’s been a while (and even
if it hasn't, I mean dinner isn’t a one-
in-a-lifetime proposition, my fr-
iends) then have I got a restaurant
for you—The Rugby Beach Club
and Grille.
This trendy West Broadway
eatery features an a la Carte menu
that allows patrons to build their
own meals. The menu is divided
into mains, vegetables, and carbs on
one side, with a selection of salads
and appetizers on the other.
It’s perfect for all of those annoy-
ing people who constantly harass
servers to substitute the salad for the
potatoes in other restaurants.
Carb junkies can have garlic-
mashed potatoes with latkes and
pesto pasta, and Atkins enthusiasts
are free to get the steak, the chicken,
and the lamb. No need to hide your
Brussels sprouts under your napkin
anymore either. If you don’t want
veggies, why not get a lobster or alli-
gator skewer instead?
Or better yet, just get a couple of
appetizers to split with your dinner
companion and save room for the
drool-inducing dessert menu. My
suggestion—the Smoky Grilled
Duck. At $6.50, this starter is not
only scrumptious and filling, but
affordable too. Plus it looks real
pretty. It consists of four rice-paper
cones stuffed with smoked duck,
sprouts, carrots, and celery, which
are flash fried and served over a
small cabbage salad, accented with
an unbelievable sweet chili sauce.
You will die, I swear. And when you
do, you won't mind if I finish your
dinner will you? No sense in letting
good food go to waste.
Duck isn’t your bag? Well, how
about crab? They do a fabulous crab
cake, two generous-sized cakes with
salsa and garnish for $7.95. The
lemon-grilled salmon is hot stuff
too. And the grilled seasonal vegeta-
bles—don’t get me started.
But enough about fish and veg-
etables and all that, let’s get down to
business. Drinks and desserts busi-
ness, that is.
This place has a drink menu that
will blow your mind but not your
budget. Crantinis for $2.44. Pints
of imported beer for $3.50.
Margaritas, Cosmopolitans, Green
Apple Martinis—a girly drink
drinker’s dream, all for around $3.
It’s no wonder the bar area is always
filled to the gills at this place. And
for those of you out there whose
server can never seem to keep up
; A
with your drinking pace, not to
worry. The Rugby Club also pro-
vides wandering “cocktail waitress-
es” to pick up the slack in between
visits from your designated server.
Then, of course, there are the
desserts. For under $5 I had the
most amazing combination of
whipped mint cream, chocolate
wafers, and fresh berries to ever
grace an oversized caramel-drizzled
plate. Just thinking about it makes
me cry.
The Rugby Club (201-950 West
Broadway) opens daily at 4:24pm,
and there is usually a line up to get
a table by 5:30, especially on the
weekends. Call ahead and make a
reservation (604.736.2438), or take
your chances in line (hey, you might
get lucky and find a spot to wait at
the bar) but don’t wait to treat your-
self any longer. Put down that Filet
o Fish—you do deserve a break
today.
Simon Hatton
OP Contributor
Ever wonder what Vince Neil, bad-
boy singer of the 80s’ debaucherous
hair metal band Motley Criie, eats
for breakfast? Or how about if MC
Hammer, rapper-turned-evangelist
will ever let somebody “touch this?”
Sociologists, anthropologists, and
general pontificators alike have been
obsessed with these questions for
some time now.
Well, the wait is over. The
answers to these questions and
many others related to the lives of
long forgotten C-list celebrities have
now become readily available
through the new reality TV series,
The Surreal Life.
The premise is not new to the
reality TV world. Basically, just
throw a bunch of mismatched
strangers (aforementioned C-list
celebrities) in a stylish mansion to
live as roommates. Create some ten-
sion by sending a few curveballs
their way, and, make Corey
Feldman cry. Most importantly,
film every painfully awkward
moment.
We have seen it all before, but this
is different. These particular partici-
pants also have to deal with the
stress of having once been famous
and now becoming nothing more
than a freak show or curiosity to the
general public.
Other fallen stars joining us in
this study of has-beenery, are the
perpetually pint-sized Emmanuel
Lewis (Webster), 2001 Playboy
Playmate Brande Roderick, Corey
Feldman (The Goonies, The Lost
http://www.otherpress.ca
Boys), Jerri Manthey (Survivor: The
Australian Outback), and Gabrielle
Carteris (Beverly Hills 90210).
This show couldn't have come at
a better time. Just when I thought
TV had taken a turn for the worse,
along comes this thoughtful and
tender program. How can we ever
again feel sorry for ourselves and
complain about the raw deal all us
common folk have been dealt?
Well, we still can. But we can also
feel a little better about ourselves
while we watch a desperate group of
obsolete celebrities clamour for one
last embarrassing moment in the
spotlight.
The Surreal Life can be seen on
Much More Music, Sundays @ 5pm.
Page 15
Culture
e the other press ©
Practicing Democracy
Creating dialogue and law
Carla Elm Clement
OP Contributor
“Come back home with me,” Angel
says to Karla as they huddle togeth-
er in the cold and rain. “I'll take care
of you, girl.” Words of comfort,
except that for Angel ‘home’ is a
dumpster she shares with her com-
panion, Trade. Watching an early
scene from Practicing Democracy, |
better realized the hardships and
daily concerns of those directly
affected by: province-wide welfare
cuts: a dumpster isn’t just a source of
discarded pop cans, clothing and
food, for many it’s the only shelter
available—it's a place called home.
Headlines Theatre’s Practicing
Democracy is stark, enlightening and
ultimately empowering, for actors
and audience alike. As Headlines’
Artistic Director, David Diamond,
explains at the start of the play, the
audience is about to experience a
unique kind of theatre—theatre
that breaks down distinctions of
actor and audience, stage and seats,
voice and silence. This is participa-
tory theatre along the lines of
renowned Brazilian _—_ director
Augusto Boal. The ‘spectator’
becomes the ‘spect-actor.’ At the end
of _the brief 25-minute _ play,
Diamond returns to the stage.
“Now we're going to present it
again,” he says with a smile, his eyes
grandmother, Nan, to take her in.
As I play out the role of Elaine, and
Nan refuses to help, I argue that I
could organize her medication and
provide safety—that we could help
each other. Nan isn’t convinced. She
asks how I'll be able to afford rent
and refuses to raise a newborn. I end
up frustrated, but this is part of the
exercise. Diamond facilitates the
ensuing discussion. “We have expec-
tations about family, don’t we,” he
asks the audience. “That they'll
come together and help each other.”
But this doesn’t always happen.
Emily Maine, who plays Elaine, is
a single mom with first-hand
knowledge of low-income survival.
And her situation is compelling: she
used to be a welfare worker until
welfare cuts ended her job and she
ended up on welfare herself.
Distinctions of oppressor and
oppressed begin to fade. As we sit
on the back steps of the theatre after
the play, Maine describes her frus-
trations in front-line welfare work:
“T felt like my hands were always
tied,” she says passionately. She
takes a drag on her cigarette. Maine
is keen to raise awareness of her per-
spective and the perspective of oth-
ers affected by welfare cuts. I ask
what practicing democracy means
to her. “It means giving everybody a
way to plug in—to connect—and
to have their voice heard.” Her only
food line-up violence is a fearful
reality that many in the audience
arent aware of
intense. This time, he invites any-
one in the audience to stop the play
and come forward if they have an
idea how to change a character's
actions—if these new actions will
help to ‘create safety’ in the charac-
ter’s life. A ripple of unease passes
through the audience. No one seems
prepared to pass through the barrier
from spectator to participant. But,
as the play resumes, many do come
forward. Each shares an idea for
change—some naive, some brilliant.
Each audience intervention raises
questions of practicality. Most sug-
gestions present new, unforeseen
barriers to safety. Standing in a food
line rather than swiping produce
from a grocer is shot down: food
line-up violence is a fearful reality
that many in the audience aren't
aware of.
After each intervention,
Diamond calls upon the audience to
voice suggestions—specific ideas for
policy change—that will be sent to
Vancouver City Hall. He points out
a woman with a laptop at the back
of the theatre. She’s a lawyer hired to
record and compile all suggestions.
And City Hall has agreed to honour
the resulting document. Not only is
Practicing Democracy patticipatory
theatre, it’s a true attempt at legisla-
tive theatre.
I decide to participate in a scene
with Elaine, a jobless pregnant
woman who asks her low-income
concern is that the play ends up
preaching to the converted.
“Who are the converted?”
Diamond asks when I mention
Maine's concern. “I don’t think the
converted exist,” he says emphati-
cally. He stresses that everyone takes
away something new from each per-
formance, whether they’re content,
living a life of oppression or know of
others that are struggling. Or if
they're an oppressor themselves,
whether they realize it or not.
“Oppressors are always part of the
community,” Diamond points out.
Practicing Democracy is about pro-
viding a space for dialogue and
empowerment. And about coming
up with practical ideas for change
that will help to diminish the roles
of oppressed and oppressor alike. I
shows us the harsh realities that
many around us grapple with daily.
In a warm-up exercise, Diamond
asks the audience to stand and
remain standing if we know some-
one affected by the welfare cuts.
Only a few people sit back down.
Diamond pauses then says, “the
story is with us in Vancouver.”
Practicing Democracy ended its
runon March 21, but the resultig
document lives on. For more infor-
mation about Practicing Democracy,
visit their website at
.
Visit Headlines Theatre at
.
Rugby Beach Club Grille
—The Art of A la Carte
Amanda Aikman
Culture Editor
When was the last time you treated
yourself to a fancy-pants dinner
out? Bearing in mind that opting
for the Filet o’ Fish does not consti-
tute fancy-pantsedness.
Well, if it’s been a while (and even
if it hasn't, I mean dinner isn’t a one-
in-a-lifetime proposition, my fr-
iends) then have I got a restaurant
for you—The Rugby Beach Club
and Grille.
This trendy West Broadway
eatery features an a la Carte menu
that allows patrons to build their
own meals. The menu is divided
into mains, vegetables, and carbs on
one side, with a selection of salads
and appetizers on the other.
It’s perfect for all of those annoy-
ing people who constantly harass
servers to substitute the salad for the
potatoes in other restaurants.
Carb junkies can have garlic-
mashed potatoes with latkes and
pesto pasta, and Atkins enthusiasts
are free to get the steak, the chicken,
and the lamb. No need to hide your
Brussels sprouts under your napkin
anymore either. If you don’t want
veggies, why not get a lobster or alli-
gator skewer instead?
Or better yet, just get a couple of
appetizers to split with your dinner
companion and save room for the
drool-inducing dessert menu. My
suggestion—the Smoky Grilled
Duck. At $6.50, this starter is not
only scrumptious and filling, but
affordable too. Plus it looks real
pretty. It consists of four rice-paper
cones stuffed with smoked duck,
sprouts, carrots, and celery, which
are flash fried and served over a
small cabbage salad, accented with
an unbelievable sweet chili sauce.
You will die, I swear. And when you
do, you won't mind if I finish your
dinner will you? No sense in letting
good food go to waste.
Duck isn’t your bag? Well, how
about crab? They do a fabulous crab
cake, two generous-sized cakes with
salsa and garnish for $7.95. The
lemon-grilled salmon is hot stuff
too. And the grilled seasonal vegeta-
bles—don’t get me started.
But enough about fish and veg-
etables and all that, let’s get down to
business. Drinks and desserts busi-
ness, that is.
This place has a drink menu that
will blow your mind but not your
budget. Crantinis for $2.44. Pints
of imported beer for $3.50.
Margaritas, Cosmopolitans, Green
Apple Martinis—a girly drink
drinker’s dream, all for around $3.
It’s no wonder the bar area is always
filled to the gills at this place. And
for those of you out there whose
server can never seem to keep up
; A
with your drinking pace, not to
worry. The Rugby Club also pro-
vides wandering “cocktail waitress-
es” to pick up the slack in between
visits from your designated server.
Then, of course, there are the
desserts. For under $5 I had the
most amazing combination of
whipped mint cream, chocolate
wafers, and fresh berries to ever
grace an oversized caramel-drizzled
plate. Just thinking about it makes
me cry.
The Rugby Club (201-950 West
Broadway) opens daily at 4:24pm,
and there is usually a line up to get
a table by 5:30, especially on the
weekends. Call ahead and make a
reservation (604.736.2438), or take
your chances in line (hey, you might
get lucky and find a spot to wait at
the bar) but don’t wait to treat your-
self any longer. Put down that Filet
o Fish—you do deserve a break
today.
Simon Hatton
OP Contributor
Ever wonder what Vince Neil, bad-
boy singer of the 80s’ debaucherous
hair metal band Motley Criie, eats
for breakfast? Or how about if MC
Hammer, rapper-turned-evangelist
will ever let somebody “touch this?”
Sociologists, anthropologists, and
general pontificators alike have been
obsessed with these questions for
some time now.
Well, the wait is over. The
answers to these questions and
many others related to the lives of
long forgotten C-list celebrities have
now become readily available
through the new reality TV series,
The Surreal Life.
The premise is not new to the
reality TV world. Basically, just
throw a bunch of mismatched
strangers (aforementioned C-list
celebrities) in a stylish mansion to
live as roommates. Create some ten-
sion by sending a few curveballs
their way, and, make Corey
Feldman cry. Most importantly,
film every painfully awkward
moment.
We have seen it all before, but this
is different. These particular partici-
pants also have to deal with the
stress of having once been famous
and now becoming nothing more
than a freak show or curiosity to the
general public.
Other fallen stars joining us in
this study of has-beenery, are the
perpetually pint-sized Emmanuel
Lewis (Webster), 2001 Playboy
Playmate Brande Roderick, Corey
Feldman (The Goonies, The Lost
http://www.otherpress.ca
Boys), Jerri Manthey (Survivor: The
Australian Outback), and Gabrielle
Carteris (Beverly Hills 90210).
This show couldn't have come at
a better time. Just when I thought
TV had taken a turn for the worse,
along comes this thoughtful and
tender program. How can we ever
again feel sorry for ourselves and
complain about the raw deal all us
common folk have been dealt?
Well, we still can. But we can also
feel a little better about ourselves
while we watch a desperate group of
obsolete celebrities clamour for one
last embarrassing moment in the
spotlight.
The Surreal Life can be seen on
Much More Music, Sundays @ 5pm.
Page 15
Edited Text
March 24, 2004
Culture
e the other press ©
Practicing Democracy
Creating dialogue and law
Carla Elm Clement
OP Contributor
“Come back home with me,” Angel
says to Karla as they huddle togeth-
er in the cold and rain. “I'll take care
of you, girl.” Words of comfort,
except that for Angel ‘home’ is a
dumpster she shares with her com-
panion, Trade. Watching an early
scene from Practicing Democracy, |
better realized the hardships and
daily concerns of those directly
affected by: province-wide welfare
cuts: a dumpster isn’t just a source of
discarded pop cans, clothing and
food, for many it’s the only shelter
available—it's a place called home.
Headlines Theatre’s Practicing
Democracy is stark, enlightening and
ultimately empowering, for actors
and audience alike. As Headlines’
Artistic Director, David Diamond,
explains at the start of the play, the
audience is about to experience a
unique kind of theatre—theatre
that breaks down distinctions of
actor and audience, stage and seats,
voice and silence. This is participa-
tory theatre along the lines of
renowned Brazilian _—_ director
Augusto Boal. The ‘spectator’
becomes the ‘spect-actor.’ At the end
of _the brief 25-minute _ play,
Diamond returns to the stage.
“Now we're going to present it
again,” he says with a smile, his eyes
grandmother, Nan, to take her in.
As I play out the role of Elaine, and
Nan refuses to help, I argue that I
could organize her medication and
provide safety—that we could help
each other. Nan isn’t convinced. She
asks how I'll be able to afford rent
and refuses to raise a newborn. I end
up frustrated, but this is part of the
exercise. Diamond facilitates the
ensuing discussion. “We have expec-
tations about family, don’t we,” he
asks the audience. “That they'll
come together and help each other.”
But this doesn’t always happen.
Emily Maine, who plays Elaine, is
a single mom with first-hand
knowledge of low-income survival.
And her situation is compelling: she
used to be a welfare worker until
welfare cuts ended her job and she
ended up on welfare herself.
Distinctions of oppressor and
oppressed begin to fade. As we sit
on the back steps of the theatre after
the play, Maine describes her frus-
trations in front-line welfare work:
“T felt like my hands were always
tied,” she says passionately. She
takes a drag on her cigarette. Maine
is keen to raise awareness of her per-
spective and the perspective of oth-
ers affected by welfare cuts. I ask
what practicing democracy means
to her. “It means giving everybody a
way to plug in—to connect—and
to have their voice heard.” Her only
food line-up violence is a fearful
reality that many in the audience
arent aware of
intense. This time, he invites any-
one in the audience to stop the play
and come forward if they have an
idea how to change a character's
actions—if these new actions will
help to ‘create safety’ in the charac-
ter’s life. A ripple of unease passes
through the audience. No one seems
prepared to pass through the barrier
from spectator to participant. But,
as the play resumes, many do come
forward. Each shares an idea for
change—some naive, some brilliant.
Each audience intervention raises
questions of practicality. Most sug-
gestions present new, unforeseen
barriers to safety. Standing in a food
line rather than swiping produce
from a grocer is shot down: food
line-up violence is a fearful reality
that many in the audience aren't
aware of.
After each intervention,
Diamond calls upon the audience to
voice suggestions—specific ideas for
policy change—that will be sent to
Vancouver City Hall. He points out
a woman with a laptop at the back
of the theatre. She’s a lawyer hired to
record and compile all suggestions.
And City Hall has agreed to honour
the resulting document. Not only is
Practicing Democracy patticipatory
theatre, it’s a true attempt at legisla-
tive theatre.
I decide to participate in a scene
with Elaine, a jobless pregnant
woman who asks her low-income
concern is that the play ends up
preaching to the converted.
“Who are the converted?”
Diamond asks when I mention
Maine's concern. “I don’t think the
converted exist,” he says emphati-
cally. He stresses that everyone takes
away something new from each per-
formance, whether they’re content,
living a life of oppression or know of
others that are struggling. Or if
they're an oppressor themselves,
whether they realize it or not.
“Oppressors are always part of the
community,” Diamond points out.
Practicing Democracy is about pro-
viding a space for dialogue and
empowerment. And about coming
up with practical ideas for change
that will help to diminish the roles
of oppressed and oppressor alike. I
shows us the harsh realities that
many around us grapple with daily.
In a warm-up exercise, Diamond
asks the audience to stand and
remain standing if we know some-
one affected by the welfare cuts.
Only a few people sit back down.
Diamond pauses then says, “the
story is with us in Vancouver.”
Practicing Democracy ended its
runon March 21, but the resultig
document lives on. For more infor-
mation about Practicing Democracy,
visit their website at
.
Visit Headlines Theatre at
.
Rugby Beach Club Grille
—The Art of A la Carte
Amanda Aikman
Culture Editor
When was the last time you treated
yourself to a fancy-pants dinner
out? Bearing in mind that opting
for the Filet o’ Fish does not consti-
tute fancy-pantsedness.
Well, if it’s been a while (and even
if it hasn't, I mean dinner isn’t a one-
in-a-lifetime proposition, my fr-
iends) then have I got a restaurant
for you—The Rugby Beach Club
and Grille.
This trendy West Broadway
eatery features an a la Carte menu
that allows patrons to build their
own meals. The menu is divided
into mains, vegetables, and carbs on
one side, with a selection of salads
and appetizers on the other.
It’s perfect for all of those annoy-
ing people who constantly harass
servers to substitute the salad for the
potatoes in other restaurants.
Carb junkies can have garlic-
mashed potatoes with latkes and
pesto pasta, and Atkins enthusiasts
are free to get the steak, the chicken,
and the lamb. No need to hide your
Brussels sprouts under your napkin
anymore either. If you don’t want
veggies, why not get a lobster or alli-
gator skewer instead?
Or better yet, just get a couple of
appetizers to split with your dinner
companion and save room for the
drool-inducing dessert menu. My
suggestion—the Smoky Grilled
Duck. At $6.50, this starter is not
only scrumptious and filling, but
affordable too. Plus it looks real
pretty. It consists of four rice-paper
cones stuffed with smoked duck,
sprouts, carrots, and celery, which
are flash fried and served over a
small cabbage salad, accented with
an unbelievable sweet chili sauce.
You will die, I swear. And when you
do, you won't mind if I finish your
dinner will you? No sense in letting
good food go to waste.
Duck isn’t your bag? Well, how
about crab? They do a fabulous crab
cake, two generous-sized cakes with
salsa and garnish for $7.95. The
lemon-grilled salmon is hot stuff
too. And the grilled seasonal vegeta-
bles—don’t get me started.
But enough about fish and veg-
etables and all that, let’s get down to
business. Drinks and desserts busi-
ness, that is.
This place has a drink menu that
will blow your mind but not your
budget. Crantinis for $2.44. Pints
of imported beer for $3.50.
Margaritas, Cosmopolitans, Green
Apple Martinis—a girly drink
drinker’s dream, all for around $3.
It’s no wonder the bar area is always
filled to the gills at this place. And
for those of you out there whose
server can never seem to keep up
; A
with your drinking pace, not to
worry. The Rugby Club also pro-
vides wandering “cocktail waitress-
es” to pick up the slack in between
visits from your designated server.
Then, of course, there are the
desserts. For under $5 I had the
most amazing combination of
whipped mint cream, chocolate
wafers, and fresh berries to ever
grace an oversized caramel-drizzled
plate. Just thinking about it makes
me cry.
The Rugby Club (201-950 West
Broadway) opens daily at 4:24pm,
and there is usually a line up to get
a table by 5:30, especially on the
weekends. Call ahead and make a
reservation (604.736.2438), or take
your chances in line (hey, you might
get lucky and find a spot to wait at
the bar) but don’t wait to treat your-
self any longer. Put down that Filet
o Fish—you do deserve a break
today.
Simon Hatton
OP Contributor
Ever wonder what Vince Neil, bad-
boy singer of the 80s’ debaucherous
hair metal band Motley Criie, eats
for breakfast? Or how about if MC
Hammer, rapper-turned-evangelist
will ever let somebody “touch this?”
Sociologists, anthropologists, and
general pontificators alike have been
obsessed with these questions for
some time now.
Well, the wait is over. The
answers to these questions and
many others related to the lives of
long forgotten C-list celebrities have
now become readily available
through the new reality TV series,
The Surreal Life.
The premise is not new to the
reality TV world. Basically, just
throw a bunch of mismatched
strangers (aforementioned C-list
celebrities) in a stylish mansion to
live as roommates. Create some ten-
sion by sending a few curveballs
their way, and, make Corey
Feldman cry. Most importantly,
film every painfully awkward
moment.
We have seen it all before, but this
is different. These particular partici-
pants also have to deal with the
stress of having once been famous
and now becoming nothing more
than a freak show or curiosity to the
general public.
Other fallen stars joining us in
this study of has-beenery, are the
perpetually pint-sized Emmanuel
Lewis (Webster), 2001 Playboy
Playmate Brande Roderick, Corey
Feldman (The Goonies, The Lost
http://www.otherpress.ca
Boys), Jerri Manthey (Survivor: The
Australian Outback), and Gabrielle
Carteris (Beverly Hills 90210).
This show couldn't have come at
a better time. Just when I thought
TV had taken a turn for the worse,
along comes this thoughtful and
tender program. How can we ever
again feel sorry for ourselves and
complain about the raw deal all us
common folk have been dealt?
Well, we still can. But we can also
feel a little better about ourselves
while we watch a desperate group of
obsolete celebrities clamour for one
last embarrassing moment in the
spotlight.
The Surreal Life can be seen on
Much More Music, Sundays @ 5pm.
Page 15
Culture
e the other press ©
Practicing Democracy
Creating dialogue and law
Carla Elm Clement
OP Contributor
“Come back home with me,” Angel
says to Karla as they huddle togeth-
er in the cold and rain. “I'll take care
of you, girl.” Words of comfort,
except that for Angel ‘home’ is a
dumpster she shares with her com-
panion, Trade. Watching an early
scene from Practicing Democracy, |
better realized the hardships and
daily concerns of those directly
affected by: province-wide welfare
cuts: a dumpster isn’t just a source of
discarded pop cans, clothing and
food, for many it’s the only shelter
available—it's a place called home.
Headlines Theatre’s Practicing
Democracy is stark, enlightening and
ultimately empowering, for actors
and audience alike. As Headlines’
Artistic Director, David Diamond,
explains at the start of the play, the
audience is about to experience a
unique kind of theatre—theatre
that breaks down distinctions of
actor and audience, stage and seats,
voice and silence. This is participa-
tory theatre along the lines of
renowned Brazilian _—_ director
Augusto Boal. The ‘spectator’
becomes the ‘spect-actor.’ At the end
of _the brief 25-minute _ play,
Diamond returns to the stage.
“Now we're going to present it
again,” he says with a smile, his eyes
grandmother, Nan, to take her in.
As I play out the role of Elaine, and
Nan refuses to help, I argue that I
could organize her medication and
provide safety—that we could help
each other. Nan isn’t convinced. She
asks how I'll be able to afford rent
and refuses to raise a newborn. I end
up frustrated, but this is part of the
exercise. Diamond facilitates the
ensuing discussion. “We have expec-
tations about family, don’t we,” he
asks the audience. “That they'll
come together and help each other.”
But this doesn’t always happen.
Emily Maine, who plays Elaine, is
a single mom with first-hand
knowledge of low-income survival.
And her situation is compelling: she
used to be a welfare worker until
welfare cuts ended her job and she
ended up on welfare herself.
Distinctions of oppressor and
oppressed begin to fade. As we sit
on the back steps of the theatre after
the play, Maine describes her frus-
trations in front-line welfare work:
“T felt like my hands were always
tied,” she says passionately. She
takes a drag on her cigarette. Maine
is keen to raise awareness of her per-
spective and the perspective of oth-
ers affected by welfare cuts. I ask
what practicing democracy means
to her. “It means giving everybody a
way to plug in—to connect—and
to have their voice heard.” Her only
food line-up violence is a fearful
reality that many in the audience
arent aware of
intense. This time, he invites any-
one in the audience to stop the play
and come forward if they have an
idea how to change a character's
actions—if these new actions will
help to ‘create safety’ in the charac-
ter’s life. A ripple of unease passes
through the audience. No one seems
prepared to pass through the barrier
from spectator to participant. But,
as the play resumes, many do come
forward. Each shares an idea for
change—some naive, some brilliant.
Each audience intervention raises
questions of practicality. Most sug-
gestions present new, unforeseen
barriers to safety. Standing in a food
line rather than swiping produce
from a grocer is shot down: food
line-up violence is a fearful reality
that many in the audience aren't
aware of.
After each intervention,
Diamond calls upon the audience to
voice suggestions—specific ideas for
policy change—that will be sent to
Vancouver City Hall. He points out
a woman with a laptop at the back
of the theatre. She’s a lawyer hired to
record and compile all suggestions.
And City Hall has agreed to honour
the resulting document. Not only is
Practicing Democracy patticipatory
theatre, it’s a true attempt at legisla-
tive theatre.
I decide to participate in a scene
with Elaine, a jobless pregnant
woman who asks her low-income
concern is that the play ends up
preaching to the converted.
“Who are the converted?”
Diamond asks when I mention
Maine's concern. “I don’t think the
converted exist,” he says emphati-
cally. He stresses that everyone takes
away something new from each per-
formance, whether they’re content,
living a life of oppression or know of
others that are struggling. Or if
they're an oppressor themselves,
whether they realize it or not.
“Oppressors are always part of the
community,” Diamond points out.
Practicing Democracy is about pro-
viding a space for dialogue and
empowerment. And about coming
up with practical ideas for change
that will help to diminish the roles
of oppressed and oppressor alike. I
shows us the harsh realities that
many around us grapple with daily.
In a warm-up exercise, Diamond
asks the audience to stand and
remain standing if we know some-
one affected by the welfare cuts.
Only a few people sit back down.
Diamond pauses then says, “the
story is with us in Vancouver.”
Practicing Democracy ended its
runon March 21, but the resultig
document lives on. For more infor-
mation about Practicing Democracy,
visit their website at
.
Visit Headlines Theatre at
.
Rugby Beach Club Grille
—The Art of A la Carte
Amanda Aikman
Culture Editor
When was the last time you treated
yourself to a fancy-pants dinner
out? Bearing in mind that opting
for the Filet o’ Fish does not consti-
tute fancy-pantsedness.
Well, if it’s been a while (and even
if it hasn't, I mean dinner isn’t a one-
in-a-lifetime proposition, my fr-
iends) then have I got a restaurant
for you—The Rugby Beach Club
and Grille.
This trendy West Broadway
eatery features an a la Carte menu
that allows patrons to build their
own meals. The menu is divided
into mains, vegetables, and carbs on
one side, with a selection of salads
and appetizers on the other.
It’s perfect for all of those annoy-
ing people who constantly harass
servers to substitute the salad for the
potatoes in other restaurants.
Carb junkies can have garlic-
mashed potatoes with latkes and
pesto pasta, and Atkins enthusiasts
are free to get the steak, the chicken,
and the lamb. No need to hide your
Brussels sprouts under your napkin
anymore either. If you don’t want
veggies, why not get a lobster or alli-
gator skewer instead?
Or better yet, just get a couple of
appetizers to split with your dinner
companion and save room for the
drool-inducing dessert menu. My
suggestion—the Smoky Grilled
Duck. At $6.50, this starter is not
only scrumptious and filling, but
affordable too. Plus it looks real
pretty. It consists of four rice-paper
cones stuffed with smoked duck,
sprouts, carrots, and celery, which
are flash fried and served over a
small cabbage salad, accented with
an unbelievable sweet chili sauce.
You will die, I swear. And when you
do, you won't mind if I finish your
dinner will you? No sense in letting
good food go to waste.
Duck isn’t your bag? Well, how
about crab? They do a fabulous crab
cake, two generous-sized cakes with
salsa and garnish for $7.95. The
lemon-grilled salmon is hot stuff
too. And the grilled seasonal vegeta-
bles—don’t get me started.
But enough about fish and veg-
etables and all that, let’s get down to
business. Drinks and desserts busi-
ness, that is.
This place has a drink menu that
will blow your mind but not your
budget. Crantinis for $2.44. Pints
of imported beer for $3.50.
Margaritas, Cosmopolitans, Green
Apple Martinis—a girly drink
drinker’s dream, all for around $3.
It’s no wonder the bar area is always
filled to the gills at this place. And
for those of you out there whose
server can never seem to keep up
; A
with your drinking pace, not to
worry. The Rugby Club also pro-
vides wandering “cocktail waitress-
es” to pick up the slack in between
visits from your designated server.
Then, of course, there are the
desserts. For under $5 I had the
most amazing combination of
whipped mint cream, chocolate
wafers, and fresh berries to ever
grace an oversized caramel-drizzled
plate. Just thinking about it makes
me cry.
The Rugby Club (201-950 West
Broadway) opens daily at 4:24pm,
and there is usually a line up to get
a table by 5:30, especially on the
weekends. Call ahead and make a
reservation (604.736.2438), or take
your chances in line (hey, you might
get lucky and find a spot to wait at
the bar) but don’t wait to treat your-
self any longer. Put down that Filet
o Fish—you do deserve a break
today.
Simon Hatton
OP Contributor
Ever wonder what Vince Neil, bad-
boy singer of the 80s’ debaucherous
hair metal band Motley Criie, eats
for breakfast? Or how about if MC
Hammer, rapper-turned-evangelist
will ever let somebody “touch this?”
Sociologists, anthropologists, and
general pontificators alike have been
obsessed with these questions for
some time now.
Well, the wait is over. The
answers to these questions and
many others related to the lives of
long forgotten C-list celebrities have
now become readily available
through the new reality TV series,
The Surreal Life.
The premise is not new to the
reality TV world. Basically, just
throw a bunch of mismatched
strangers (aforementioned C-list
celebrities) in a stylish mansion to
live as roommates. Create some ten-
sion by sending a few curveballs
their way, and, make Corey
Feldman cry. Most importantly,
film every painfully awkward
moment.
We have seen it all before, but this
is different. These particular partici-
pants also have to deal with the
stress of having once been famous
and now becoming nothing more
than a freak show or curiosity to the
general public.
Other fallen stars joining us in
this study of has-beenery, are the
perpetually pint-sized Emmanuel
Lewis (Webster), 2001 Playboy
Playmate Brande Roderick, Corey
Feldman (The Goonies, The Lost
http://www.otherpress.ca
Boys), Jerri Manthey (Survivor: The
Australian Outback), and Gabrielle
Carteris (Beverly Hills 90210).
This show couldn't have come at
a better time. Just when I thought
TV had taken a turn for the worse,
along comes this thoughtful and
tender program. How can we ever
again feel sorry for ourselves and
complain about the raw deal all us
common folk have been dealt?
Well, we still can. But we can also
feel a little better about ourselves
while we watch a desperate group of
obsolete celebrities clamour for one
last embarrassing moment in the
spotlight.
The Surreal Life can be seen on
Much More Music, Sundays @ 5pm.
Page 15
Culture
e the other press ©
Practicing Democracy
Creating dialogue and law
Carla Elm Clement
OP Contributor
“Come back home with me,” Angel
says to Karla as they huddle togeth-
er in the cold and rain. “I'll take care
of you, girl.” Words of comfort,
except that for Angel ‘home’ is a
dumpster she shares with her com-
panion, Trade. Watching an early
scene from Practicing Democracy, |
better realized the hardships and
daily concerns of those directly
affected by: province-wide welfare
cuts: a dumpster isn’t just a source of
discarded pop cans, clothing and
food, for many it’s the only shelter
available—it's a place called home.
Headlines Theatre’s Practicing
Democracy is stark, enlightening and
ultimately empowering, for actors
and audience alike. As Headlines’
Artistic Director, David Diamond,
explains at the start of the play, the
audience is about to experience a
unique kind of theatre—theatre
that breaks down distinctions of
actor and audience, stage and seats,
voice and silence. This is participa-
tory theatre along the lines of
renowned Brazilian _—_ director
Augusto Boal. The ‘spectator’
becomes the ‘spect-actor.’ At the end
of _the brief 25-minute _ play,
Diamond returns to the stage.
“Now we're going to present it
again,” he says with a smile, his eyes
grandmother, Nan, to take her in.
As I play out the role of Elaine, and
Nan refuses to help, I argue that I
could organize her medication and
provide safety—that we could help
each other. Nan isn’t convinced. She
asks how I'll be able to afford rent
and refuses to raise a newborn. I end
up frustrated, but this is part of the
exercise. Diamond facilitates the
ensuing discussion. “We have expec-
tations about family, don’t we,” he
asks the audience. “That they'll
come together and help each other.”
But this doesn’t always happen.
Emily Maine, who plays Elaine, is
a single mom with first-hand
knowledge of low-income survival.
And her situation is compelling: she
used to be a welfare worker until
welfare cuts ended her job and she
ended up on welfare herself.
Distinctions of oppressor and
oppressed begin to fade. As we sit
on the back steps of the theatre after
the play, Maine describes her frus-
trations in front-line welfare work:
“T felt like my hands were always
tied,” she says passionately. She
takes a drag on her cigarette. Maine
is keen to raise awareness of her per-
spective and the perspective of oth-
ers affected by welfare cuts. I ask
what practicing democracy means
to her. “It means giving everybody a
way to plug in—to connect—and
to have their voice heard.” Her only
food line-up violence is a fearful
reality that many in the audience
arent aware of
intense. This time, he invites any-
one in the audience to stop the play
and come forward if they have an
idea how to change a character's
actions—if these new actions will
help to ‘create safety’ in the charac-
ter’s life. A ripple of unease passes
through the audience. No one seems
prepared to pass through the barrier
from spectator to participant. But,
as the play resumes, many do come
forward. Each shares an idea for
change—some naive, some brilliant.
Each audience intervention raises
questions of practicality. Most sug-
gestions present new, unforeseen
barriers to safety. Standing in a food
line rather than swiping produce
from a grocer is shot down: food
line-up violence is a fearful reality
that many in the audience aren't
aware of.
After each intervention,
Diamond calls upon the audience to
voice suggestions—specific ideas for
policy change—that will be sent to
Vancouver City Hall. He points out
a woman with a laptop at the back
of the theatre. She’s a lawyer hired to
record and compile all suggestions.
And City Hall has agreed to honour
the resulting document. Not only is
Practicing Democracy patticipatory
theatre, it’s a true attempt at legisla-
tive theatre.
I decide to participate in a scene
with Elaine, a jobless pregnant
woman who asks her low-income
concern is that the play ends up
preaching to the converted.
“Who are the converted?”
Diamond asks when I mention
Maine's concern. “I don’t think the
converted exist,” he says emphati-
cally. He stresses that everyone takes
away something new from each per-
formance, whether they’re content,
living a life of oppression or know of
others that are struggling. Or if
they're an oppressor themselves,
whether they realize it or not.
“Oppressors are always part of the
community,” Diamond points out.
Practicing Democracy is about pro-
viding a space for dialogue and
empowerment. And about coming
up with practical ideas for change
that will help to diminish the roles
of oppressed and oppressor alike. I
shows us the harsh realities that
many around us grapple with daily.
In a warm-up exercise, Diamond
asks the audience to stand and
remain standing if we know some-
one affected by the welfare cuts.
Only a few people sit back down.
Diamond pauses then says, “the
story is with us in Vancouver.”
Practicing Democracy ended its
runon March 21, but the resultig
document lives on. For more infor-
mation about Practicing Democracy,
visit their website at
.
Visit Headlines Theatre at
.
Rugby Beach Club Grille
—The Art of A la Carte
Amanda Aikman
Culture Editor
When was the last time you treated
yourself to a fancy-pants dinner
out? Bearing in mind that opting
for the Filet o’ Fish does not consti-
tute fancy-pantsedness.
Well, if it’s been a while (and even
if it hasn't, I mean dinner isn’t a one-
in-a-lifetime proposition, my fr-
iends) then have I got a restaurant
for you—The Rugby Beach Club
and Grille.
This trendy West Broadway
eatery features an a la Carte menu
that allows patrons to build their
own meals. The menu is divided
into mains, vegetables, and carbs on
one side, with a selection of salads
and appetizers on the other.
It’s perfect for all of those annoy-
ing people who constantly harass
servers to substitute the salad for the
potatoes in other restaurants.
Carb junkies can have garlic-
mashed potatoes with latkes and
pesto pasta, and Atkins enthusiasts
are free to get the steak, the chicken,
and the lamb. No need to hide your
Brussels sprouts under your napkin
anymore either. If you don’t want
veggies, why not get a lobster or alli-
gator skewer instead?
Or better yet, just get a couple of
appetizers to split with your dinner
companion and save room for the
drool-inducing dessert menu. My
suggestion—the Smoky Grilled
Duck. At $6.50, this starter is not
only scrumptious and filling, but
affordable too. Plus it looks real
pretty. It consists of four rice-paper
cones stuffed with smoked duck,
sprouts, carrots, and celery, which
are flash fried and served over a
small cabbage salad, accented with
an unbelievable sweet chili sauce.
You will die, I swear. And when you
do, you won't mind if I finish your
dinner will you? No sense in letting
good food go to waste.
Duck isn’t your bag? Well, how
about crab? They do a fabulous crab
cake, two generous-sized cakes with
salsa and garnish for $7.95. The
lemon-grilled salmon is hot stuff
too. And the grilled seasonal vegeta-
bles—don’t get me started.
But enough about fish and veg-
etables and all that, let’s get down to
business. Drinks and desserts busi-
ness, that is.
This place has a drink menu that
will blow your mind but not your
budget. Crantinis for $2.44. Pints
of imported beer for $3.50.
Margaritas, Cosmopolitans, Green
Apple Martinis—a girly drink
drinker’s dream, all for around $3.
It’s no wonder the bar area is always
filled to the gills at this place. And
for those of you out there whose
server can never seem to keep up
; A
with your drinking pace, not to
worry. The Rugby Club also pro-
vides wandering “cocktail waitress-
es” to pick up the slack in between
visits from your designated server.
Then, of course, there are the
desserts. For under $5 I had the
most amazing combination of
whipped mint cream, chocolate
wafers, and fresh berries to ever
grace an oversized caramel-drizzled
plate. Just thinking about it makes
me cry.
The Rugby Club (201-950 West
Broadway) opens daily at 4:24pm,
and there is usually a line up to get
a table by 5:30, especially on the
weekends. Call ahead and make a
reservation (604.736.2438), or take
your chances in line (hey, you might
get lucky and find a spot to wait at
the bar) but don’t wait to treat your-
self any longer. Put down that Filet
o Fish—you do deserve a break
today.
Simon Hatton
OP Contributor
Ever wonder what Vince Neil, bad-
boy singer of the 80s’ debaucherous
hair metal band Motley Criie, eats
for breakfast? Or how about if MC
Hammer, rapper-turned-evangelist
will ever let somebody “touch this?”
Sociologists, anthropologists, and
general pontificators alike have been
obsessed with these questions for
some time now.
Well, the wait is over. The
answers to these questions and
many others related to the lives of
long forgotten C-list celebrities have
now become readily available
through the new reality TV series,
The Surreal Life.
The premise is not new to the
reality TV world. Basically, just
throw a bunch of mismatched
strangers (aforementioned C-list
celebrities) in a stylish mansion to
live as roommates. Create some ten-
sion by sending a few curveballs
their way, and, make Corey
Feldman cry. Most importantly,
film every painfully awkward
moment.
We have seen it all before, but this
is different. These particular partici-
pants also have to deal with the
stress of having once been famous
and now becoming nothing more
than a freak show or curiosity to the
general public.
Other fallen stars joining us in
this study of has-beenery, are the
perpetually pint-sized Emmanuel
Lewis (Webster), 2001 Playboy
Playmate Brande Roderick, Corey
Feldman (The Goonies, The Lost
http://www.otherpress.ca
Boys), Jerri Manthey (Survivor: The
Australian Outback), and Gabrielle
Carteris (Beverly Hills 90210).
This show couldn't have come at
a better time. Just when I thought
TV had taken a turn for the worse,
along comes this thoughtful and
tender program. How can we ever
again feel sorry for ourselves and
complain about the raw deal all us
common folk have been dealt?
Well, we still can. But we can also
feel a little better about ourselves
while we watch a desperate group of
obsolete celebrities clamour for one
last embarrassing moment in the
spotlight.
The Surreal Life can be seen on
Much More Music, Sundays @ 5pm.
Page 15
Culture
e the other press ©
Practicing Democracy
Creating dialogue and law
Carla Elm Clement
OP Contributor
“Come back home with me,” Angel
says to Karla as they huddle togeth-
er in the cold and rain. “I'll take care
of you, girl.” Words of comfort,
except that for Angel ‘home’ is a
dumpster she shares with her com-
panion, Trade. Watching an early
scene from Practicing Democracy, |
better realized the hardships and
daily concerns of those directly
affected by: province-wide welfare
cuts: a dumpster isn’t just a source of
discarded pop cans, clothing and
food, for many it’s the only shelter
available—it's a place called home.
Headlines Theatre’s Practicing
Democracy is stark, enlightening and
ultimately empowering, for actors
and audience alike. As Headlines’
Artistic Director, David Diamond,
explains at the start of the play, the
audience is about to experience a
unique kind of theatre—theatre
that breaks down distinctions of
actor and audience, stage and seats,
voice and silence. This is participa-
tory theatre along the lines of
renowned Brazilian _—_ director
Augusto Boal. The ‘spectator’
becomes the ‘spect-actor.’ At the end
of _the brief 25-minute _ play,
Diamond returns to the stage.
“Now we're going to present it
again,” he says with a smile, his eyes
grandmother, Nan, to take her in.
As I play out the role of Elaine, and
Nan refuses to help, I argue that I
could organize her medication and
provide safety—that we could help
each other. Nan isn’t convinced. She
asks how I'll be able to afford rent
and refuses to raise a newborn. I end
up frustrated, but this is part of the
exercise. Diamond facilitates the
ensuing discussion. “We have expec-
tations about family, don’t we,” he
asks the audience. “That they'll
come together and help each other.”
But this doesn’t always happen.
Emily Maine, who plays Elaine, is
a single mom with first-hand
knowledge of low-income survival.
And her situation is compelling: she
used to be a welfare worker until
welfare cuts ended her job and she
ended up on welfare herself.
Distinctions of oppressor and
oppressed begin to fade. As we sit
on the back steps of the theatre after
the play, Maine describes her frus-
trations in front-line welfare work:
“T felt like my hands were always
tied,” she says passionately. She
takes a drag on her cigarette. Maine
is keen to raise awareness of her per-
spective and the perspective of oth-
ers affected by welfare cuts. I ask
what practicing democracy means
to her. “It means giving everybody a
way to plug in—to connect—and
to have their voice heard.” Her only
food line-up violence is a fearful
reality that many in the audience
arent aware of
intense. This time, he invites any-
one in the audience to stop the play
and come forward if they have an
idea how to change a character's
actions—if these new actions will
help to ‘create safety’ in the charac-
ter’s life. A ripple of unease passes
through the audience. No one seems
prepared to pass through the barrier
from spectator to participant. But,
as the play resumes, many do come
forward. Each shares an idea for
change—some naive, some brilliant.
Each audience intervention raises
questions of practicality. Most sug-
gestions present new, unforeseen
barriers to safety. Standing in a food
line rather than swiping produce
from a grocer is shot down: food
line-up violence is a fearful reality
that many in the audience aren't
aware of.
After each intervention,
Diamond calls upon the audience to
voice suggestions—specific ideas for
policy change—that will be sent to
Vancouver City Hall. He points out
a woman with a laptop at the back
of the theatre. She’s a lawyer hired to
record and compile all suggestions.
And City Hall has agreed to honour
the resulting document. Not only is
Practicing Democracy patticipatory
theatre, it’s a true attempt at legisla-
tive theatre.
I decide to participate in a scene
with Elaine, a jobless pregnant
woman who asks her low-income
concern is that the play ends up
preaching to the converted.
“Who are the converted?”
Diamond asks when I mention
Maine's concern. “I don’t think the
converted exist,” he says emphati-
cally. He stresses that everyone takes
away something new from each per-
formance, whether they’re content,
living a life of oppression or know of
others that are struggling. Or if
they're an oppressor themselves,
whether they realize it or not.
“Oppressors are always part of the
community,” Diamond points out.
Practicing Democracy is about pro-
viding a space for dialogue and
empowerment. And about coming
up with practical ideas for change
that will help to diminish the roles
of oppressed and oppressor alike. I
shows us the harsh realities that
many around us grapple with daily.
In a warm-up exercise, Diamond
asks the audience to stand and
remain standing if we know some-
one affected by the welfare cuts.
Only a few people sit back down.
Diamond pauses then says, “the
story is with us in Vancouver.”
Practicing Democracy ended its
runon March 21, but the resultig
document lives on. For more infor-
mation about Practicing Democracy,
visit their website at
.
Visit Headlines Theatre at
.
Rugby Beach Club Grille
—The Art of A la Carte
Amanda Aikman
Culture Editor
When was the last time you treated
yourself to a fancy-pants dinner
out? Bearing in mind that opting
for the Filet o’ Fish does not consti-
tute fancy-pantsedness.
Well, if it’s been a while (and even
if it hasn't, I mean dinner isn’t a one-
in-a-lifetime proposition, my fr-
iends) then have I got a restaurant
for you—The Rugby Beach Club
and Grille.
This trendy West Broadway
eatery features an a la Carte menu
that allows patrons to build their
own meals. The menu is divided
into mains, vegetables, and carbs on
one side, with a selection of salads
and appetizers on the other.
It’s perfect for all of those annoy-
ing people who constantly harass
servers to substitute the salad for the
potatoes in other restaurants.
Carb junkies can have garlic-
mashed potatoes with latkes and
pesto pasta, and Atkins enthusiasts
are free to get the steak, the chicken,
and the lamb. No need to hide your
Brussels sprouts under your napkin
anymore either. If you don’t want
veggies, why not get a lobster or alli-
gator skewer instead?
Or better yet, just get a couple of
appetizers to split with your dinner
companion and save room for the
drool-inducing dessert menu. My
suggestion—the Smoky Grilled
Duck. At $6.50, this starter is not
only scrumptious and filling, but
affordable too. Plus it looks real
pretty. It consists of four rice-paper
cones stuffed with smoked duck,
sprouts, carrots, and celery, which
are flash fried and served over a
small cabbage salad, accented with
an unbelievable sweet chili sauce.
You will die, I swear. And when you
do, you won't mind if I finish your
dinner will you? No sense in letting
good food go to waste.
Duck isn’t your bag? Well, how
about crab? They do a fabulous crab
cake, two generous-sized cakes with
salsa and garnish for $7.95. The
lemon-grilled salmon is hot stuff
too. And the grilled seasonal vegeta-
bles—don’t get me started.
But enough about fish and veg-
etables and all that, let’s get down to
business. Drinks and desserts busi-
ness, that is.
This place has a drink menu that
will blow your mind but not your
budget. Crantinis for $2.44. Pints
of imported beer for $3.50.
Margaritas, Cosmopolitans, Green
Apple Martinis—a girly drink
drinker’s dream, all for around $3.
It’s no wonder the bar area is always
filled to the gills at this place. And
for those of you out there whose
server can never seem to keep up
; A
with your drinking pace, not to
worry. The Rugby Club also pro-
vides wandering “cocktail waitress-
es” to pick up the slack in between
visits from your designated server.
Then, of course, there are the
desserts. For under $5 I had the
most amazing combination of
whipped mint cream, chocolate
wafers, and fresh berries to ever
grace an oversized caramel-drizzled
plate. Just thinking about it makes
me cry.
The Rugby Club (201-950 West
Broadway) opens daily at 4:24pm,
and there is usually a line up to get
a table by 5:30, especially on the
weekends. Call ahead and make a
reservation (604.736.2438), or take
your chances in line (hey, you might
get lucky and find a spot to wait at
the bar) but don’t wait to treat your-
self any longer. Put down that Filet
o Fish—you do deserve a break
today.
Simon Hatton
OP Contributor
Ever wonder what Vince Neil, bad-
boy singer of the 80s’ debaucherous
hair metal band Motley Criie, eats
for breakfast? Or how about if MC
Hammer, rapper-turned-evangelist
will ever let somebody “touch this?”
Sociologists, anthropologists, and
general pontificators alike have been
obsessed with these questions for
some time now.
Well, the wait is over. The
answers to these questions and
many others related to the lives of
long forgotten C-list celebrities have
now become readily available
through the new reality TV series,
The Surreal Life.
The premise is not new to the
reality TV world. Basically, just
throw a bunch of mismatched
strangers (aforementioned C-list
celebrities) in a stylish mansion to
live as roommates. Create some ten-
sion by sending a few curveballs
their way, and, make Corey
Feldman cry. Most importantly,
film every painfully awkward
moment.
We have seen it all before, but this
is different. These particular partici-
pants also have to deal with the
stress of having once been famous
and now becoming nothing more
than a freak show or curiosity to the
general public.
Other fallen stars joining us in
this study of has-beenery, are the
perpetually pint-sized Emmanuel
Lewis (Webster), 2001 Playboy
Playmate Brande Roderick, Corey
Feldman (The Goonies, The Lost
http://www.otherpress.ca
Boys), Jerri Manthey (Survivor: The
Australian Outback), and Gabrielle
Carteris (Beverly Hills 90210).
This show couldn't have come at
a better time. Just when I thought
TV had taken a turn for the worse,
along comes this thoughtful and
tender program. How can we ever
again feel sorry for ourselves and
complain about the raw deal all us
common folk have been dealt?
Well, we still can. But we can also
feel a little better about ourselves
while we watch a desperate group of
obsolete celebrities clamour for one
last embarrassing moment in the
spotlight.
The Surreal Life can be seen on
Much More Music, Sundays @ 5pm.
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