music an entire life story, whether mine, someone else’s, or an imagined one. My songs tend to contain more words than most popular songs, and often include certain folk elements. I suppose this is no surprise as I came of age during that fertile musical decade, the sixties.
• • •
My social life in Toronto was starting to expand. I was happy to be back in the familiar surroundings and enjoyed strolls down Philosopher’s Walk and Sunday morning yoga classes, which kept me limber, with a new British girlfriend, Janet. Walks past the elegant Richardsonian Romanesque buildings of Queen’s Park and the University of Toronto, where I had spent four years studying music, ensured that I maintained the same weight I had been when I graduated from the Faculty of Music in 1972. Soon I had befriended Naomi, an attractive blonde doctor from Forest Hill, and her Israeli boyfriend. It felt good to have spirited and adventurous girlfriends again!
There were the nights out, too — a week of non-stop parties at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF), where I rubbed shoulders with directors Norman Jewison and Christina Jennings, my fellow Missinaibi canoe adventurer, chatted with Brian and Mila Mulroney, Geoffrey Rush, Sara Waxman, and George Christie, and was welcomed home by the Toronto media. My friends Robert and Birgit Bateman invited me be their guest at the World Wildlife gala where the Tenors sang to us, and little by little I was made to feel that once again I was part of the Toronto cultural scene.
I revisited my dear old teacher Eli Kassner, at whose Gibson Avenue home I had enjoyed so many Toronto Guitar Society parties over the years. He and his wife, Ann, welcomed me back warmly, as did my old friend Bob Kaplan, who, now a widower, was appreciative of a companion with whom he could talk French and Spanish and reminisce about Pierre, to whom Bob had introduced me one sunny summer day in 1975. We shared memories of my one-time fiancé, Joel Bell, and the political life Bob had known as a member of parliament and as Canada’s former solicitor general. There was never any question of romance between us, but we welcomed each other’s company and I enjoyed having a buddy in Toronto, since most of my former friends seemed to have died or moved away. Bob was my confidant and a perfect escort to events. He drove me to events in either his Rolls Royce or his tiny Smart car, and I know I added a spark to his life that had been difficult after losing his wife of many years.
Sadly, Bob developed brain cancer that started to spread. He went for consultations to Sloan Kettering, a renowned cancer centre in New York, but he became weaker by the day, and his skin began turning grey. I encouraged him to seek help at the Hippocrates Health Institute, and his supportive family made arrangements to fly him there in a low-flying private plane to avoid any change in air pressure.
After a three-week stay Bob looked transformed! His colour had returned, he had hired a personal attendant to prepare his raw vegan meals, and he promised to take me to the top of the CN Tower to experience “Toes Over Toronto,” which I am sure would have scared us out of our wits. One day Bob called me to his condo to chat and listen to him attempt new pieces on his grand piano. He told me that he could not take any more of the vegan diet restrictions and that he was craving meat and desserts. Overnight Bob switched to eating steaks, cheese, pies, cakes, and ice cream. Although he did manage to make it in a wheelchair to hear me sing and play a concert for the Taste of the Kingsway festival, tragically Bob did not last much longer. I still miss my good-natured friend who passed away far too young, at seventy five, and I often wonder if he could have beaten cancer had he persisted with the vegetarian diet.
• • •
It was now important for me to find the ideal accompanist with whom I could tour and record. How would I be able to find a duo partner in Toronto? Once again fortune was my friend, and through the University of Toronto guitar teacher, Jeffrey McFadden, I was introduced to Michael Savona. A good-looking thirty-seven-year-old with a wife and two rambunctious little kids, Michael was a fine classical player who was also experienced in the rock world, playing electric guitar as well. Just as important, he had a good singing voice.
I called Srdjan to apologize and to explain the practical reasons why, unfortunately, our duo was not going to be able to continue. Having to fly him up to Canada for every concert or television show that came along would have been impossible. I deeply regretted disappointing him, but Srdjan understood that besides the logistics of our living in different countries, the hassles with work permits and the inability to rehearse and record new material would cause problems. Srdjan and I had a different vision for our duo. He was pushing to do more folk cover songs and “entertain,” whereas I felt more driven to create new, original repertoire. In a sense, our chapter together had run its natural course.
Srdjan and I still keep in touch. He has formed a duo that plays every weekend in restaurants and for special parties, and on occasion he happily performs in his beloved homeland of Croatia on occasion.
Over the summer of 2011 Michael familiarized himself with the repertoire I had been playing with Srdjan, and we started to record some of my new “Canadiana” pieces. “Death Divine,” a powerful song I had composed right after losing my father, morphed into “Aurora Borealis” as I decided to concentrate on creating more Canadian-inspired repertoire. I had experienced the mystical Northern Lights while on tour in Saskatchewan, and my melody and lyrics combined with Peter’s magnificent 120-track score captured in music the majesty of this natural phenomenon of light in the northern skies. Peter referred to one challenging section of my vocal as my “Sarah Brightman moment.” While I could never come close to being like Sarah, I revered her as one of my special musical muses.
I located a Cree teacher at the Native Canadian Centre of Toronto and hired him to translate some of my lyrics into his language. Samme Hunter taught me how to pronounce the words so that I could sing the chorus in his beautiful language. Wawate, the Cree word for the Northern Lights, was so perfect in its onomatopoeic simplicity. I imagined my beloved poet Longfellow must have been familiar with Cree when he named the fireflies in his Hiawatha poem “wah-wah-taysee.”
Soon I had composed another song, with lyrics that evoked the landscapes of Muskoka and Lake Superior that I had always loved.
Silver birch, scent of pine, lakes and forests, land of mine
Silver birch, harvest moons, golden maples, calls of loons
Silver birch, morning haze, flaming sumach summer days,
Silver birch, winter night, silent snowflakes, white on white….
It seemed appropriate to dedicate this song to those internationally renowned painters whose art decorated most Canadian classrooms (if only in reproduction), and to me symbolized Canadian art: the Group of Seven.
In a tribute to Canada’s First Nations people, I used for the bridge “Nehiyawaskiya,” a significant word, meaning “aboriginal lands,” that had been taught to me by an off-duty police officer I had randomly located by telephone near an Ojibwa reserve in northern Ontario.
For this evocative chorus Peter was able to layer multiple takes of my voice in the style of the Irish singer Enya, whom we both adored for her unique, creative music. Enya’s albums usually take several years of constant work before their release, but somehow Peter and I managed to complete our album of fifteen original songs in less than two years.
Unless one witnesses the complex orchestration process involved in layering the instruments and creating all the sound textures for such songs as “Silver Birch,” its sophistication can be lost on the casual listener. There are multiple percussion tracks, some of which involve layers of my guitar, played using the tambora technique. As well, there are various drums. The two of us even jumped up and down on the floor of the drum room at Zolis Audio to add special weight to one track!
Multiple instruments, choirs, reverb chambers, and specialized electronic
