Lorna Mills and Sally McKay
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On Monday night I rode my bike in the sleetish rain to the Rex to watch Rob Cruickshank project slides to the live sounds of Methusela. I wore the wrong trousers for the bike with no chain guard and had to roll up my pant leg, which was chilly. Also, in case y'all haven't noticed, it's DARK at 5:30 these days. And also my gloves are faulty. So by the time I got there I was feeling distinctly Novemberish and bleak. The bar was kind of empty-ish but not completely, as befits a Monday night. Rob was in the zone, his nighttime slides of storefronts and subway stations enhanced the bitter-slowly-turning-sweet urban mood of the evening. Methusula are easy on the ears and don't demand a change of frame of mind. Rob's super 8/slide connections were hitting the mark: astronauts filed dreamily out of the lurid glowing window of a Queen West fabric store, soldiers leapt from helicopters into a sea labelled "MEAT" and a rocket ship fired up through the torso of a mannikin in a red dress which morphed into an old cave stalactite trajectory. Faded phallic images from the past ticked into the atmosphere of a quiet, slick-street evening in Toronto in the late autumn.
They're going to do it again next week (Halloween) so go see for yourself.