Mr. Betters, who ran the Adirondack Sports Shop near the West Branch of the Ausable River in NY State for many years, has died. He developed or popularized a number of flies that are widely used today, including the Haystack, the Usual and the Ausable Wulff.
Ronald Bloore died last Friday. He was in his mid-80s, and in his lifetime he made a significant mark on the history of Canadian painting.
photo: from left to right, Claude Breeze, Eugene Knapik, Ronald Bloore
I met Ron when I was a young painting student at York University. I have to confess I was somewhat in awe. I mean, he was the white-on-white painter. He organized the exhibition Five Painters from Regina way back in 1961. Suddenly, they were The Regina Five. Ron used to say, "Canadians paint by numbers", referring to the Group of Seven, The Painters Eleven, The Regina Five. This guy was a painting giant in my mind, and he was my teacher.
In the years that followed, Bloore taught me a lot, and not the least of which was by example. He taught me to never compromise my work, ever. Ever. He taught me that by the bold and determined painterly path he cut for himself. He'd say, "Look, I'm just a simple painter...."
Years later, after University, a few of us started spending weekly afternoons painting and drawing out in the landscape. I don't remember now just how it came about that Ron joined us, but it became a regular event. We joked that we were "Sunday painters". Who knew Mr. white-on-white would enjoy drawing and painting the landscape? We'd hop in the car and drive north for a while, zig zag here and there and finally stop somewhere to draw and paint. Some of us would look for a broad vista or a huge cloud formation or an interesting tangle of trees. Ron would find a comfortable spot and start making pencil drawings of the forest floor at his feet. Always, Bloore had a unique vision, a unique way of looking at the world. One day, we were set up at the side of a road somewhere near Grimsby, drawing groves of fruit trees. Bloore had this little portable stool, and he was sitting down working on a pencil drawing. A car stopped and the driver leaned over and said, "Are you OK...do you need any help?" Bloore looked at him and said, "The only help I need, sir, is with this drawing." On those painting trips we would always bring a picnic lunch. Occasionally, Ron would bring along a bottle of Retsina. They were great days, and I really treasure them.
Bloore was a marvelous painter. I love so many of his paintings, even more so because I got to know the painter through the years. When I saw Bloore in his studio, he always seemed confident and at ease, surrounded by his latest creations. I really enjoyed those occasions a small group of us would gather there, then head out someplace for lunch, to laugh, tell some stories, and argue about the art world.
RIP Ron. We'll miss you.
I'm late with this...I just heard Mr. Dickinson died on August 15. Jim Dickenson was a musician and record producer from Memphis. His producing credits include Big Star, Willy DeVille, Mojo Nixon, The Replacements, Mudhoney, and Screamin' Jay Hawkins. He worked with Ry Cooder and played on Time out of Mind, the Bob Dylan album. RIP
Les Paul, guitarist and inventor, has died at 94. How important was he to contemporary music? Well, he was an important developer of the solid body electric guitar, and as well successfully messed around with recording techniques like echo and multi-tracking. As well, he was an accomplished guitarist with a rich recording career.
Here he is with Chet Atkins
And here he is with Mary Ford
RIP
Willy DeVille died last night of pancreatic cancer, age 59. I think he was an inspired performer. I only had a chance to see one of his shows live, and that was back in 1978 at Massey Hall in Toronto, on a bill with Nick Lowe and Rockpile and Elvis Costello and the Attractions. DeVille's band back then was Mink DeVille and they were burning hot. I was in high school at the time and rock and roll was being refreshed and renewed on many fronts. I remember the show well, both because all three bands were terrific, but also because the day before I was hit in the face with a baseball, leaving me swollen and sore.
Mr. Washington was 89. He was a familiar face and voice to blues fans in the Toronto and Hamilton areas, and he was a much loved performer.
I just read that accordionist Clyde Forsman died a few days ago, at 94. Mr. Forsman was known for his work with Those Darned Accordions as well as a number of other bands. RIP
Today was Aunt Stella's funeral. Stella was one of my mom's sisters and she was the last of mom's siblings still on the planet, until this week, when she died at 82. When I was a boy, our families were very close and all the aunts and uncles and cousins saw one another regularly at various family occasions. As time went by, aunts, uncles and cousins saw less and less of one another, and today I hung out with a number of family members I hadn't seen in years.
It was sad that it took Stella's passing to bring us together again, but at the same time so good to see everyone.
I have very fond childhood memories of Stella, her husband Frank and their family, memories that go way back to Galley Ave in Parkdale and my grandpa and grandma on my mom's side.
Stella RIP.
Also noted while I was over at Bifurcated Rivets, was that Snooks Eaglin has died. Readers of this here blog may remember that I featured Mr. Eaglin not so very long ago. He was a soulful guitarist with a massive repetoire, long based in New Orleans. Check out the link to my previous post to hear him in action. I think you'll like what you hear. Mr. Eaglin was 72.
We drove up to Peterborough today for a memorial for Tuffy's Aunt Giselle. It was an opportunity for the family to gather to celebrate Giselle's life and share some memories and stories. I was asked to play a few tunes on accordion, which I did. A few people spoke about Giselle and what she meant to them. There was a also a beautiful letter read from Giselle's 91 year old brother in Quebec, and a poem read by her grand-daughter. The afternoon was a moving and lovely tribute to a wonderful person who will be dearly missed.
She was 81. I had the pleasure of attending an Eartha Kitt show not so very long ago, and she was delightful. RIP
Yesterday morning, William was very listless, had no appetite, and had no energy to do anything. I took him to the vet, and sadly discovered he was in heart failure.
I think I've had William for 16 years. When he joined me at the warehouse I was living in, I called him Willie. He was Willie for several years, and then gradually, we started calling hiim William. I guess he grew up.
I wasn't ever going to get a cat because I had cat allergies. I read somewhere (I'm sure now this was completely unsubstantiated) that certain kinds of cats have low dander and can help someone overcome allergies. Meanwhile, my pal Candy, a scientific authority if anyone was, told me that if I ate bee pollen and washed my cat once each month, I could easily overcome a cat allergy. Armed with this sage advice, I answered an ad for an Oriental shorthair kitten somewhere out in Scarborough. I stocked up on bee pollen and aquired the kitten.
Willie howled for two solid days. He was not impressed with me or the place I lived. By the time he settled down, I realized I was not breaking out and experiencing my usual symptoms. Willie turned out to be way too smart to be a cat. I would play a game with him, and as soon as he figured out the game, he would howl, and I would have to invent a new game. After about a year, I decided to get him a feline companion because I just couldn't invent games fast enough. That's when Delia came on the scene. Meanwhile, Willie was not impressed with being washed every month and that strategy lasted all of one attempt. I stopped eating bee pollen after a couple months, and my allergy was pretty much gone (and it stayed gone too). Candy should get the Nobel Prize for her work on eradicating allergies.
Back when I lived in the warehouse, there would occasionally be film crews on-site filming some show or movie. We had a love/hate relationship with them. They always acted like they owned the world, with a fine balance between rudeness and arrogance. On the other hand, sometimes they needed a studio to film in and paid extremely well on those occasions for the use of space. Some people in the building named them film scum. One day, I was in my studio, reading or painting, when a crew set up in the hallway outside my door. William would have been less than a year old at the time. When they were ready to shoot, some guy shouted, "Quiiiiietttttt....Readyyyyyy....Roll-em." Willie immediately ran up to the door and howled in his loudest other-worldly howl. Then silence. "What the hell was that?" "I never heard anything like it." Then...."Quiiiiietttttt....Readyyyyyy....Roll-em.". Willie, who had by that point settled back down on my lap, ran over to the door again and let out another loud and long howl. This happened three times in a row. Then I heard a sound at the door. Instead of knocking on the door to see if I was home, somebody thought they could buy off Willie by sliding slices of lunch meat under my door. This was amusing me to no end so I quietly watched. So did Willie, at this point once again settled on my lap. They eventually built sound barriers and shifted their shoot down the hall.
At that time, Willie had the ability to jump up to the top of a door. Occasionally, I would see him balancing on top of a door like it was the most normal thing in the world for a cat to do.
I think Willie became William when Tuffy P and I got married and moved to the first Anchovy World Headquarters, on Blackthorn Ave in Toronto. By that time, I had Willie and Delia, and I also had my father's cat Spud, as he couldn't care for Spud anymore. Tuffy P. had Twiggy and William was not going to play nice. He had been an indoor cat all this time, and we decided to give him an opportunity to go outside. We heard or read somewhere that this strategy was sometimes successful if cats don't get along. I'm sure this was completely unsubstantiated. The first time he went outside, he encountered a big old neighbourhood tom we called Red. Red was maybe the toughest old grizzled tom in the hood. William started to walk in slow motion as if doing that would make him invisible to Red. Red ambled in front of William's path and waited. Williams slowmotion turned to a full stop as he changed direction. Wherever he went, Red would show up in front of him. It turned out Red was OK with William, and going outside did help him get along with Twig.
William put me to sleep most nights. It was as if it was his job. I would settle down in bed, and he would jump up on my chest and start purring. This usually put me to sleep in minutes, after which, he would hop off my chest and settle in somewhere else on the bed. The only time he didn't do this was during the period in which I stayed with my father, more-or-less looking after him. At that time, William stuck to my dad like glue. During that time, he liked to curl up and sleep beside my dad.
Over the past year, William became much less robust, and more delicate. He lost some weight, and he avoided rough-housing with the other cats. Maybe that was the onset of his heart problems? We just figured he was getting old.
William was a good cat-buddy. He was with us a long time, and I'll miss the little guy.
Mr. Stubbs, lead singer of The Four Tops, dead at 72.
"Levi Stubbs was one of the great voices of all times," former Motown labelmate Smokey Robinson said. "He was very near and dear to my heart. He was my friend and my brother, I miss him. God bless his family and comfort them."
RIP
I just read over at Ink's blog that Frankie Venom died. Venom was a Canadian punk legend and front-man for Teenage Head, who were all over the Toronto music scene in the early 80s. RIP Mr. Venom.
Here are Frankie and the boys from 1983.
