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Showing posts with label Montréal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Montréal. Show all posts

Monday, 25 July 2016

LUXE BAG MAN


THE HORSEY WORLD OF HERMÈS
By RICHARD CARREÑO
[WC News Service]
MONTREAL -- In the surreal world of ultra luxury shopping and privilege, nothing better conveys a lady's status as a regal One Percenter than a handbag from Hermès, the Parisian leather, scarf, and lifestyle goods maker and purveyor. Especially if that accessory is demurely coded as a Kelly bag, eponymously named after the blondish Hollywood movie star, fairy-tale princess, and Philadelphian.

Indeed, the bag might be another kind entirely, one that fits as comfortably over a saddled horse, as does Kelly nestles in the crook of an arm. Yes, a saddle bag -- and, yes, it's among an extensive array of horse furniture, including bridles, girths, saddle pads, and saddles themselves (starting price, from $6,750) that Hermès turns with the same kind of faithfulness to quality and the high art of customized workmanship that's imbued in other of its products.

Thursday, 21 July 2016

TALLY-HO!


TOULOUSE-LAUTREC AS HORSE PAINTER
By RICHARD CARREÑO
[WC News Service]
MONTREAL
Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec (1864-1901) is best known as France's shortest painter, never more than 4 feet, 8 inches. That and -- even by the hard-core middle-brow, the kind of folk who used to troll the once-ubiquitous shopping mall 'art' shops -- for his Belle Époque-era poster prints of Jane Avril, Aristide Bruant, and other habitués of the louche world that the diminutive roué made his own in late 19th-century Paris, principally in the seedier precincts of Montmartre.
 
There's also the wild-and-crazy guy of  movie fame, many popular books, and of an even an abortive West End musical production, written by Charles Aznavour, which lasted all of about three months in 2000. 
 
But 'Toulouse-Lautrec Illustrates the Belle Époque,' a current exhibition at the Museum of Fine Arts here, another, lesser-known side of the intense Art Nouveau practitioner is explored. That of horse painter. Who knew? My bad.

Wednesday, 9 July 2008

On the Road with....







Junto Photos:Linda Carreño
Monsieur Franklin Slept Here

By Richard Carreño
Montreal:-- He was a diplomat. The city's first postmaster. As a successful printer and scribe, he along the way helped establish its first newspaper.

For many scholars of Benjamin Franklin -- even those less versed in his myriad achievements -- such accomplishments seem just about to sum up a day's work for the 18th century's most prodigious multi-tasker. Whether in London, Paris, or in his hometown of Philadelphia, Dr. Franklin's legendary exploits as inventor, scientist, author and -- did we mention? -- as senior founder of the United States are, of course, widely heralded.

But how about the peripatetic Franklin's diplomacy, postmastering, and newspapering in Montreal?

Frequently and mystifyingly absent from the great man's oft-recited canon is Franklin's personal 'invasion' of the capital of what was then British-controlled Canada. The time? May 1776. The mission: Encourage Canada's disaffected francophones to side with American colonists. Picture, if you will, Franklin as international secret agent.

Who knew?

Not surprisingly, the Sage of Philadelphia carried out his charge, as always, while living large, including wheeling and dealing for war-time supplies with local merchants. And, in this case, as well, it is said, in a fractured version French employed by the audatic Franklin.
Franklin's tour of Montreal was just another notch -- albeit, his least known chapter -- in his world travels.

In a time when most his countrymen hardly travelled from their farms or towns, much less their counties, Philadelphia's first citizen -- by today's standards -- could well be a member of any million-mile program, racking up multiple visits to England; France; and Belgium and Holland (yes, he went there, too). Never mind, of course, his touring the Atlantic seaboard from Boston (his birthplace) to Philadelphia, the city of his greatest fame.

Let's add another first to the Franklin lexicon: First Tourist.

Franklin's legacy lives on quietly in Montreal, today the second largest French-speaking city with a population of about 2 million.

While Franklin's biggest frontprint, of course, was in Philadelphia, his house, off Market Street East, no longer exists. Ditto Boston. Ditto for the hôtel particulière in which he resided in Paris' Passy quarter.

Remarkably -- thanks to fundraising efforts in Philadelphia and London -- Franklin's townhouse in Craven Street, in London, still stands. And it is often referred to the only Franklin residence still extant.

Well, maybe. The management of the Hostellerie Pierre du Calvet, in Montreal's Old City, begs to differ -- well, at least a bit. In fact, the Calvet, named after its 18th-century owner and the merchant with whom Franklin was smoozing and temporarily living with, had proof: a bronze plaque on its front wall announcing, in the tradition of such things, that 'Franklin Slept Here.'

That is, until recently, when the plaque -- unbeknownst to the Calvet's staff, mysteriously went missing.

Coincidentally, my introduction to Franklin's Montreal was also via another bronze plaque, this one in the Avenue St. Antoine, near downtown.

I was a guide at the time, many years ago, shepherding guileless American tourists through La Belle Province on week-long holidays. I spent much of my free time exploring the city, building upon my lore for the tour. My charges, from New England, were, for the most part, history-challenged, and they loved being regaled by stories of American military action in Canada, events heretofore unbeknownst to them.

Campaigns by Richard Montgomery in Montreal and Benedict Arnold in Quebec City. That sort of thing. Tales about Dr. Franklin, everyone's favorite revolutionary, were the most popular.

The plaque I encountered was stuck on a nondescript Canadian Pacific building, almost if it were an afterthought.'In 1763 Benjamin Franklin, the Deputy Postmaster General in North America, established the first organised postal service in Canada....' The plaque is still there.

Despite its reference, in 1776, as the Revolution was heating up, it was hardly philatelical reasons that brought Franklin north. Nor was he the only American in town. Since November 1775, the city had been occupied by American troops.

'...His primary mission was to use his diplomatic skills to persuade Canadians to join the American war of independence from Britain,' noted historian Ronald T. Harvie. 'His secondary task: to pump up the morale of the American army....'

Franklin wasn't lacking in propaganda skills.

What better way to spin a story, Franklin figured, than by starting a pro-American newspaper.
To that end, accompanying Franklin in his arduous horse-drawn journey, was French journalist Fleury Mesplet. (Mesplet, who Franklin met in 1773 in London, went on to be the founder of The Gazette, now Montreal's oldest newspaper).

Also accompanying Franklin was a Philadelphia Jesuit priest, a Father Carroll. This was Franklin's way in covering his bases with the influential Roman Catholic clergy.

Franklin's HQ for meeting and greeting was the 18th-century Château Ramezay, now a well-preserved museum not far from the Philadelphian's quarters at the Calvet residence.

I visited the Ramezay recently, and got a glimpse of visitor reaction to the museum's presentation of the Franklin story. As was the case with visitors I guided years before, there was surprise. Even bewilderment. (A room, overseen by an oil portrait of Franklin, is dedicated to his visit).

Lack of historical knowledge, André Delisle, the museum's director told me, surely accounts for how most visitors (about 30 percent are American) react to the Franklin's saga's missing link. Another? The château's own bronze plaque, recording the Franklin visit, has also, like the one at the Calvet house, disappeared.

Delisle, a slender, serious type, quickly explained:

'Thieves.'

'Interested in historical artifacts?' I responded.

'No. Interested in the value of bronze.'

Delisle made another point, one not usually associated with the wily Dr. Franklin, almost universally recognized as early America's 'go-to guy.'

Despite Franklin's charm and legendary powers of persuasion, his month-long mission in Montreal was met with failure. Surely, Franklin turned on his backwoods hokiness, including coon-skin cap -- a technique he would later employ successfully at the French court -- as a way of ingratiating himself with his hosts. Trouble was, his hosts were wearing coon-skin caps, as well.

Delisle also noted that Montrealers felt quite well treated by the British, who didn't, for larger political reasons, discourage the French language, nor their religiosity. Moreover, Montrealers viewed the standing American army in their city as occupiers, hardly liberators. (Anything reminscient of that?)

Even for the eminent Dr. Franklin, Canada was out of his grasp. The wizard of American diplomacy could not have everything.

'It would have been easier for Franklin to buy Canada than to conquer it,' Delisle said.

(This article appeared, in somewhat different form, in the 9 July hardcopy edition of the Weekly Press and on-line via www.weeklypress.com).

Monday, 7 July 2008

Salut Les Copains


Photo: Jean et Eddie (Writers Clearinghouse)
Drapeau et Constantine

Montréal : -- J'ai visité le Calvet Auberge ici récemment tandis que sur la tâche. (Benjamin Franklin à Montréal). À ma surprise, deux de mes personnes préférées, le défunt maire Jean Drapeau de Montréal, et le défunt acteur américain par l'intermédiaire de Paris Eddie Constantine, étaient ensemble dans une image, en tant qu'élément de mur de montage de photo. Salut, amis de mes !
---RDC

Monday, 16 June 2008

Montréal Dining: II



L'Express
According to my mind -- and my tastebuds -- L'Express is arguably the finest restaurant -- and best value for money -- in Monty.

R.W. 'Johnny Apple Jr., the late, great writer for The New York Times and gastronome extraordinaire, had this to say:

'A sliver of a room where the buzz never stops. With marble tables, mirrored walls, and checkerboard tiles, it convincingly evokes 1930s paris. The food is up to snuff, too: pot-au-feu with marrow bones, calf's liver with tarragon, onglet with frites, and floating island worthy of grand-mère.'
Two hints and one alert: Skip the sweetbreads. (They're not good for you, anyway). Check out the floating island. (Throw caution to the wind). Finding the restaurant on your first outing can be initially a wee daunting. There's no exterior sign. Its name is emblazed in the pavement.

Other top choices:

Le Steak frites St-Paul
There are several venues of this BYO chain in the city. Among the best two are sites in rue St.-Antione and, in the Old City, in rue St.-Paul.
Les 3 Brasseurs
Another chain, noted for on-site brewing of specialty beers. Moderately priced, with a brasserie menu. Ask for Isabelle, if you visit the site at 1356 rue Ste.-Cathereine, O. She is Is-a-beauty, and a excellent server, as well.
---RDC

Sunday, 15 June 2008

Montréal Dining: I

L'Express
3927 Saint-Denis. Sherbrooke métro Difficult to spot because only sign is in sidewalk


Tel. 845-5333. Monday to Friday, 8 a.m. to 2 a.m. Saturday, 10 a.m. to 2 a.m. Sunday, 10 a.m. to 1 a.m. (Reservations required Thursday through Sunday, tables usually available without reservation after 2 pm and 10 pm.) $60 for two before wine, taxes and service.

Take Montreal and pour it into a pot. Slowly turn up the heat and start reducing. As the city bubbles away, we are down to the Latin Quarter, to rue Saint-Denis. Keep simmering until we have reduced Montreal to its essence, a dozen or so long blocks between Mount Royal and René-Lévesque. Now, in the final stage of demi-glace, the heart and soul of Montreal emerges. It is the restaurant L'Express.

Chairs from old Montreal taverns. Marble table tops with napery at dinner and only plain paper covering them at lunch. Warm tones, a funky zinc style bar, a narrow long room with too much noise, too many people, good cornichons and bread on the table and a superb wine list with bargains by the glass. And recently, breakfast (café-au-lait, croissants, omelets, etc.)

The staff knows their clientele and regulars do get preference; but outsiders get a good welcome too particularly when they have made reservations or don't mind sitting at the bar—great if you are alone—when there are no tables available.

The kitchen knows its food. Unpretentious, great French bistro cooking. Steak and frites, fresh market vegetables (fiddleheads in a bacon, mushroom and cheese sauce in season), lobster morels and scallops, a rich duck foie gras, a simple green salad with roasted pine nuts. The daily specials are scattered at the sides of the menu. There is a separate desert menu with its own selection of wines and eaux-de-vie. Baba-au-rhum? don't mind if I do. Ile flottant encased in caramel, a rich dense chocolate pie.

I have never had a bad dish here. This is not to say that L'Express offers the best French cooking in the city. That is not a function of bistros. This is satisfying, extremely well prepared French food, moderately priced. L'Express promises a taste of how we, Montrealers, define ourselves. And it serves it up by the platter.— Reviewed by Barry Lazar


Montréal Exhibition de Maquillage











Junto Photographs by Linda Carreño
Naked Art: A Paint Job
Montréal:--
Held 8 and 9 June at the Marché Bonsecours, dozens of jeunes filles had their bodies painted to billboard a message. I just happened along; camera equipped. And, yes, the girls were nude, except for G-strings. Try that on for size Philly!
---RDC

Wednesday, 18 July 2007

Francophonie


No Dial Tone:









New England's Franco-Americans are New 'Silent Minority'

[The following is a slightly amended version of an original-draft proposal for the Franco-American Political Project. Details regarding the Project follow the text. It was written in 1978].

By Richard Carreño
The Franco-American Political Project targeted New England's single largest minority.

Federal census figures, based on the latest, 1970 census, showed a Canadian-American population in New England of about 1 million. Reliable estimates, including those from the federal Bureau of Census, now placed the Franco-American population -- representing the overwhelming majority of the Canadian-American population -- at an increased 1.5 million.

Almost half of this population resides in the most populous of the five New England states, Massachussetts.

Among the most concentrated Franco-American communities are those in Maine, where about 15 percent of the state's school-aged children are from French-speaking homes, according to the Maine Public Broadcasting Network. In some areas along the Quebec border, that figure increases to more than 90 percent. In Lewiston, Maine's second largest city, children from francophone families represent 60 percent of total schools enrolment.

In New Hampshire, Franco-Americans are heavily concentrated in the Manchester area, where, in 1971, 31.7 percent of the city's population was identified as of French-Canadian ancestry.

Connecticut's population, about 6 percent of the state's total population, is largely located in the state's northeastern corner, nearby to Putnam and Killingly.

Despite their numbers and significant minority presence as foreign-language speakers, Franco-Americans in New England have historically maintained low profiles in politics, civil rights, and in minority affairs. Unlike other ethnic groups with equally deep roots in the region -- Irish-Americans and Italo-Americans are common examples -- the Franco-American community has never matched these other ethnic groups in wielding political clout and ballot-box success. The result? Franco-Americans have been long known as the 'silent minority.'

According to many analysts, the community's low political involvement evinces an ethnic character trait -- in this case, the lack of personal aggressiveness and ego, often associated with successful political ventures. The community, as a whole, is often described as self-centred, suspicious of 'alien' institutional power, and under-educated. These realities are attributed to a social system -- one transplanted from Quebec-- top heavy with Roman Catholic clerics as community leaders and spokesmen.

In addition, the community's fierce efforts to preserve cultural values has accounted for an ethnic introspection that allowed for little contact with the diluting influences of the larger society. This, despite an increasingly losing struggle to retain French as a chief defining characteristic.

The community's introversion can also be linked to 19th century migratory patterns, highlighted by geographical proximity to homelands in Quebec and New Brunswick. At least initially, many migrants to New England saw themselves as only transients. Because of proximity and easy border crossings -- again in the early stages of late 19th century migration -- many French-Canadians would frequently return 'home' to visit remaining family and renew ties through renewed contact with local affairs and politics.

Despite an increasingly stronger bond with their new residence -- made only stronger by births, deaths, and work -- close physical contact with Canada still worked to diminish an even greater political and societal commitment. What resulted was a tightly-wrought ethic enclave that -- because of its lack of assimilation -- became a ready target of prejudice and stereotyping.

French-Canadians weren't quick to become naturalised Americans. The average waiting time between immigration and seeking citizenship was 16.4 years, according to published studies. These reports also showed that almost 50 percent of French-Canadian immigrants in the 19th century returned to Canada, not to return to New England. (More on this later).

This migratory pattern infused New England's Franco community with a strong, ongoing bond to the 'patrie.' In more recent years, members of second and third generation families have come to more strongly identify with this country. Yet, even later generations of Franco-American are still known to experience a tug-of-war -- and a tug at the heartstrings -- between their values as French-Canadians and as French-Americans. (It's not uncommon, even today, for many Franco families to vacation in Quebec and New Brunswick).

Franco-Americans, then, are distinguishable from other 19th century and early 20th century immigrant groups to the United States. European immigrants, for one, were forced by necessity (cost, distance) to sever relations with native countries. Franco-Americans -- much like Puerto Ricans in the mid-20th century -- were not.

While other groups assimilated, losing native languages, all the while creating romanticised myths of their early years in America, Franco-Americans in large measure preserved French as a principal lingua franca, and transplanted their institutions (mainly religious, or quasi-religious as in the case of the Union St. Jean-Baptiste). An authentic heritage was maintained, albeit one crystallised in a Quebec of a remote past.

The Franco-American community in New England defied many of the assimilation stereotypes often associated with other ethnic groups of equal longevity in this country.

As noted previously, the Franco experience here shares -- because of proximity to homeland and a commitment to the retention of a native language -- a common ground with Puerto Rican immigration, the newest wave of 'foreign' settlement in New England. In turn, differences are notable, as well. The Franco's community long presence in New England has meant that class, economic, and social structures have scaffolded that community in ways that the Hispanic community has yet to achieve.

Still, the Franco-American community is not as unified as a casual observer might believe. General social policy (community organisation by and for the elderly) and issues regarding the degree of identification with American, French, and/or Quebec cultural values still are debated.

Dividing the discourse are those aligned or identified as the community's elder 'grandees,' its younger leaders, French cultural elitists, community-based populists, the politically conservative and the politically liberal, and, of course, Quebec chauvinists and activists grounded in New England ethnic identification.

In the fore, as well, is the direction of the moribund Union St. Jean-Baptiste, a prominent 'national' fraternal group that critics see as having too little fiery, activist zeal. Federally-funded bilingual education, linked to language retention and fashioned after the Latino model, also gets a frequent airing.

The preservation of French is related the well-being of the French-language press, historically the domain of Quebec nationalists, and those in intellectual and cultural vanguards.

Despite divisions, New England's Franco community is, by most accounts, brimming with a renewed ethnic consciousness and pride. This self-recognition was evident during the second annual Franco-American Conference, held in June 1979 in Providence, Rhode Island. More than 300 representatives of a dozen Franco-American community groups, education associations, and cultural organisations met to form a national coalition. That new group, the Franco-American Confederation, was organised to sponsor task forces to explore health issues, social services, opportunities for youth, equality for women, and the advocacy for bilingual education.

What external forces, if any, have activated the community's once dormant consciousness? Has Quebec involvement -- political, cultural, monetarily -- figured in manipulating, covertly or overtly, Franco public opinion?

Has Quebec's separatist movement, led by the Parti Quebec and Quebec Premier Rene Levesque, contributed to greater cultural awareness? Levesque has already made it clear that he wished for closer ties between his province and the five states, and he made that even plainer on a personal level, as well. Like many French-Canadians, Levesque spends his summer holidays in New England. (In his case, he vacations on Cape Cod in Massachusetts).

Ironically, the 'Free Quebec' movement has also had unintended consequences. Some disaffected Quebecois have said to spur new immigration to New England, bringing theirs and other financial capital and investment as a bonus.

Direct Quebec involvement in French-Canadian affairs in New England already has a precedent. In the 19th and early 20th centuries, the provincial government organised a repatriation movement to encourage French-Canadians to return to their homeland. As noted before, the drive was not without success.

Lastly, has France -- echoes of General Charles de Gaulle's divisive 'Quebec Libre!' statement during the 1967 Montreal World's Fair ring in one's ears --played any role in the community's activism?

About the Franco-American Political Project
Whether known as New England's 'French-Canadians,' 'Franco-Americans,' or, more recently, as 'Quebecois,' or 'French Quebekkers,' this French-language community -- a vestige of French 17th and 18th century colonial power -- has always been an under-reported minority group. The Project was an early, ground-breaking attempt explore the inner-workings of the Franco community. The project sought funding from the National Endowment for Humanities and was a project of Quinebaug Valley Community College, Danielson, Connecticut.
For additional information and citations to further readings, contact the author at mailto:JuntoEzine@yahhoo.co.uk.

Sunday, 1 July 2007

Montréal Portfolio I

With Bernie and Linda




Montréal Portolio II

Gallery: Montréal with Bernie & Linda




Architecture @ Montréal

House, Right, Former home of Mimi Parent, 5429 Avenue 15, Montréal

Dwellings
House, Right, Former home of Claudette Lalonde, 827 rue Marie-Anne, Montréal.