Tag Archives: aaron shepard

Gateway expose shows inaction no option

The Oil Man and the Sea:

Navigating the Northern Gateway

By Arno Kopecky

Douglas & McIntyre

264 pages, $26.95

Reviewed by Aaron Shepard

Part rousing adventure and travelogue, part exposé, The Oil Man and the Sea follows journalist and travel writer Arno Kopecky and photographer Ilja Herb as they sail from Victoria up B.C.’s central coast. They travel not just as reporters but as activists, hoping to raise awareness about the environmental risks the Northern Gateway pipeline poses to one of the world’s last great wildernesses.

As with most books of this sort, we begin not with big themes, but the adventurer-writer beset by anchor mishaps, engine failure and an overwhelming array of nautical charts and equipment. At times in the first few chapters, their quest seems not just quixotic, but forgotten altogether. But the fumbling of these novice sailors is an intimate, effective way of immersing readers in an unfamiliar landscape. And their early misadventures dovetail nicely with one of the book’s main themes: the vibrant, hazardous complexity of the coastline and its people.

Kopecky introduces us, directly or indirectly, to the multitude of big names at the centre of the Northern Gateway drama, including Enbridge, the federal and provincial governments, the Joint Review Panel, the Heiltsuk, Gitga’at, Haisla Nations, the Pacific Pilotage Authority (the pilot boats that would lead oil tankers through the treacherous coastline), and Bill C-38, the federal omnibus bill that inexplicably closed B.C.’s oil spill response centre. We also meet a host of memorable characters: fishermen, engineers, environmentalists, First Nations elders and band councilors who offer their different opinions about pipelines, refineries and oil tankers.

But it is the coastline itself – a “labyrinth” of channels, straits, bays and islands – that remains the biggest player on stage, a place both robust and fragile with its turbulent seas, salmon runs and rich wildlife. Perhaps the most vivid evocation of place is near the book’s end, when Kopecky explores Douglas Channel and the humpback whales that may have to share their once-quiet waters with tankers bearing bitumen and liquefied natural gas.

Between conversations with the locals, fishing and grizzly bear watching – the book contains some gorgeous photos – Kopecky pulls the lens back to show the equally intricate web of national politics, science and economics. An adventure that begins with two young men goofing around on a sailboat becomes a story about Big Oil, and the future of a province, its people and its wilderness.

The Oil Man and the Sea is refreshingly current and vital, with a postscript that includes the deadly explosion in Lac-Megantic this past July. Disasters like Lac-Megantic and the Kalamazoo River bitumen spill in 2010 illustrate our complicity: our consumption drives the need to pull as much oil from the ground as humanly possible, whatever the risk. Kopecky’s quest for a tanker-free coast may indeed prove quixotic, but his message is that we should take responsibility, at the very least, for ensuring governments and industry enforce and follow strict environmental and safety regulations. No matter how confusing or paradoxical the issue of pipelines and the economy, our inaction is not an option.

Aaron Shepard is a Victoria writer. His debut novel, When is a Man, will be published in April 2014. 

 

Dubeau revisits cinema and gaming moments

Silence, on joue! (A Time for Us)
Angèle Dubeau & La Pieta (2012)
Game Music

Reviewed by Aaron Shepard

Angèle Dubeau, a stellar violinist, is one of Canada’s most accomplished and celebrated classical musicians. Along with La Pieta, the all-female ensemble that has accompanied her since 1997, she has recorded rich, exuberant interpretations of composers such as Philip Glass, Arvo Part and John Adams that are faithful to the spirit of the original, yet accessible to a broad audience. Her signature sound of virtuoso musicianship, lush orchestrations and warm production values invariably smooths the edges from the more experimental pieces. Not that you’ll find anything too edgy in Silence, on joue! This collection of soundtrack covers is about giving the people what they want. Featuring selections from films as varied as Memoirs of a Geisha, The English Patient, Modern Times, and Cinema Paradiso, Silence will tug at the heart and memory strings of cinephiles. Some tracks, like “Over the Rainbow” and “Concerning Hobbits,” are instantly recognizable, while songs from Hana-Bi and L’odyssee d’Alice Tremblay are a bit more obscure. Regardless, they all tend toward the romantic, the pensive and the uplifting, and are perhaps too similar, too polished, to truly excite.

I’m not saying these songs lack sophistication. Composers like Ennio Morricone, John Williams and Joe Hisaishi, while mainstream, are too brilliant to turn out mere sugary pap, while Dubeau and La Pieta’s thoughtful instrumentation lends subtle depth to even a sentimental piece like “My Heart Will Go On.” If there is nothing unexpected here, these near-flawless interpretations offer a pleasurable, nostalgic journey for the listener.

Game Music, stretching the boundaries of classical music through interpretations of video game theme songs, is the more interesting of the two collections. Here, Dubeau and La Pieta capture the sense of magic and fantasy inherent in epic games and offer a glimpse into the gamer’s experience of being in another world, similar to the way one can be transported by a very good film (or very good film music). The maturity of many tracks demonstrates the extent to which video games have evolved in terms of narrative complexity and even emotional depth.

Like Silence, Game Music is easy on the ears, but also far more diverse and challenging for both musician and audience. Several songs–like “Heavy Rain,” “Final Fantasy” and “Secret of Mana”–are surprisingly beautiful, balancing tense, ominous crescendos with quiet interludes. “Chrono Trigger & Chrono Cross” soars with Middle-Eastern violins and galloping hand drums reminiscent of Yo-Yo Ma’s Silk Road Project. “Tetris,” with its harpsichord and an exuberant, Tchaikovsky-esque string section, is a far cry from the clunky, electronic version I remember from my youth. Meanwhile, the upbeat “Angry Birds Theme”–from the immensely popular kids’ game–is one of Dubeau’s most purchased tracks on iTunes.

In both collections, one senses Dubeau’s respect for the music, her belief in the ability of each song – yes, even the tired Titanic love theme – to exist apart from the scenes and images for which it was originally created. Through that respect and sincerity, she’s succeeded in giving the songs of Game Music and Silence a life of their own, freeing them to become soundtracks for new memories and associations: perhaps a comfy chair by the fire on a rainy day, or the view from a seaside cottage, if the listener is lucky enough.

 

Aaron Shepard, a former musician, is shopping his first novel around publishers’ desks and writing his second.