Acrobatic dodges such as this will be less common towards the end of this weekend’s thirty-six-hour dodgeball marathon for the Stephen Lewis Foundation. Photo by Ryan Tacay.

In today’s Urban Planner, learn about opera via a discussion, military matters via a documentary, and American presidential assassinations via an award-winning musical; also, help Out of This Spark celebrate their anniversary (and support the Tranzac) and a dodgeball marathon get into the Guinness Book (and support the Stephen Lewis Foundation).

OPERA: CBC’s Brent Bambury interviews star soprano Isabel Bayrakdarian about her role in the Canadian Opera Company‘s upcoming production of The Magic Flute, and her opera career in general, as part of the COC’s Opera 101 discussion series. Duke of Westminister (77 Adelaide Street West), 6 p.m., FREE.
FILM: Our Movie Mondays column profiles the best at the rep cinemas from week to week, but now and again a good film pops up at an unexpected venue. Cinema Politica is hosting a lecture by author Peter Langille (“Changing the Guard: Canada’s Defence in a World in Transition”) and a screening of Eugene Jarecki’s 2005 documentary Why We Fight. Centre of Gravity (1300 Gerrard Street East), 7:30 p.m., PWYC.
THEATRE: A musical called Assassins doesn’t sound like it’s going to be funny, but everything Stephen Sondheim writes is infused with his trademark wit and wordplay. This bold production from Birdland Theatre, in which four successful and five failed killers try to justify their actions, was originally staged at the beginning of 2010, winning the Dora Mavor Moore Award for Outstanding Musical. By popular demand, Assassins is back until January 23; tonight is the final preview before tomorrow’s sold-out opening. The Theatre Centre (1087 Queen Street West), 8 p.m., $30.25 ($41.55 after opening).
MUSIC: Local record label Out of this Spark is celebrating its fourth anniversary with a bunch of friends and label acts (like Jenny Omnichord, Evening Hymns, The Phonemes, and many more). The night, which will also support the Tranzac’s fundraising campaign, concludes with a performance by supergroup The OOTS Family Band. Tranzac Club (292 Brunswick Avenue), 8 p.m., PWYC.
SPORTS: The Stephen Lewis Foundation’s Dare Campaign has inspired some pretty wild and wonderful things, like Pat Thornton’s twenty-four-hour stand-up set. This weekend, dodgeball players plan to go twelve hours longer with a Guinness World Record attempt at longest consecutive game; you can cheer them on, or take part in pick-up games on an adjacent court (for a minimum ten dollar donation). Just 4 Fun Sporting Club (213 Sterling Road), 10 p.m. Friday January 7–10 a.m. Sunday January 9, minimum $5 donation (all proceeds to Stephen Lewis Foundation).

Scarlett O’Terror hoists the victor’s belt at a previous Women’s Arm Wrestling Championship event at 751. Photo by Becca Lemire.

In today’s Urban Planner, motorcycle enthusiasts converge downtown; women play country songs, crack wise, and arm wrestle for good causes; concerts for rock, punk, and dance fans; and comedy fit for kings and queens at Bread and Circus.

VROOM: Local bikers (leather, not spandex-clad pinkos) will be in nirvana this weekend at the Toronto Motorcycle Show. 2011 editions of rides from Harley Davidson, BMW, Triumph and more will be on display, with many special exhibits and events planned, and get this: tonight, after 5 p.m., it’s ladies night—they get in free! (So do kids six and under, all day.) Metro Convention Centre, south entrance (222 Bremner Boulevard), 10 a.m.–10 p.m., $10–$16.
PHOTOGRAPHY: Torontoist’s own Dean Bradley is opening his new photo exhibition entitled Matadors at a chocolatier’s tonight, in a sure-to-be tasty reception. His colourful series about the elegant but violent sport includes framed bar codes that smartphone users can scan to look at additional pictures and information while browsing. Delight Chocolates (805 Queen Street West), 7–9 p.m., FREE.
FUNDRAISER: Strong-armed (and willed) ladies will roll up their sleeves for charity and a chance at the victor’s belt at tonight’s Women’s Arm Wrestling Championship event. It’s an open sign-up, and over-the-top costumes, monikers, and personalities are encouraged; all money raised is going to the Red Door Family Shelter. 751 (751 Queen Street West), 8 p.m., $2 to wrestle, $3 to watch.
FUNDRAISER: The Tranzac, whose fundraising concert series and campaign is proving very successful, is producing another quality show to benefit the club tonight, anchored by country favourites One Hundred Dollars, and featuring soulful sisters The Pining and chameleon comedian Kathleen Phillips. The Tranzac Club (292 Brunswick Avenue), 9 p.m., $12.
MUSIC: The eight-hundred-pound gorilla of tonight’s concerts is the second and final night of the Broken Social Scene shows (with recently announced openers The Beauties). Sound Academy (11 Polson Street), 8 p.m., $30. But punk fans are sure to choose Hits and Misses’ Xmas Jam; it’s Belgian legends The Kids‘ first-ever show in Toronto, and Brutal Knights‘ reportedly last-ever local show. The Garrison (1197 Dundas Street West), 9 p.m., $15. Those who just want to dance, meanwhile, will be heading to Silent Shout, for a great triple-bill of Bocce, Light Fires, and Secrettes. Terenga (159 Augusta Avenue), 9 p.m., $5.
COMEDY: Sandra Battaglini and Phil Luzi present holiday comedy fit for nobility with The Royal Family, a late night of entertainment featuring Melissa D’Agostino, Kayla Lorette, Cleopatra Williams, and more. Bread and Circus (299 Augusta Avenue), 10 p.m., $15.

Sandro Perri has a lean on the bar in the Tranzac Club’s Tiki Room. Photo by Joel Charlebois/Torontoist.

The Tranzac Club still has money woes, though things are looking up for the new year. While the Annex staple is raising money to cover its current operating deficit, Torontoist is conducting a series of interviews with musicians who have close ties to it. Our final interviewee for this series is Sandro Perri, a prolific musician and producer who’s been playing for years at the Tranzac with many different bands, and his own side projects. Perri will join Hooded Fang, The Wilderness of Manitoba, Octoberman, Light Fires, Dr. Ew, Muskox, I Am Robot and Proud, Sister, and DJ Craig Dunsmuir for a special fundraiser edition of the Tranzac’s annual New Years Eve extravaganza. We sat by the fire in the Tranzac’s Tiki Room to chat with him about his experiences at the club.

TORONTOIST: A lot of the other artists in the Tranzac Transcripts have mentioned you—Lisa Bozikovic mentioned she met you here, and how you produced her album. How far back do you go with the Tranzac? What are your earliest memories and experiences here?
SANDRO PERRI: I think the first show I played here would have been 2003; and ironically, it was a fundraiser—for No Beat Radio, on CIUT. It was myself, Picastro, The Silt, and Singing Saw Shadow Show on the bill. So that was the first time I stepped foot in the place.
I’d heard about it for a year or so, as it was starting to become a place where improv was happening, and other weirder, experimental nights. Really, though, the Tranzac was flying under the radar; it was a small scene that started to expand in 2004 and 2005.

TORONTOIST: So at the time, the Tranzac music scene was mostly just folk music?
SP: I think so. There were theatre shows happening, and a bit of jazz, but that was just starting. There was a place before, the Idler Pub, where most of the experimental stuff happened, and then the scene migrated over here.
I was already doing electronic music, but I hadn’t been here before that fundraiser. After that, the first show that I remember was opening for The Silt for their CD release. Yeah, I guess it’s been six or seven years; the Silt were a huge part of my life for the next four or five years, making music, experimenting, playing in different ways. Usually, all three of them were involved in some form or another. They’re a huge part of the Tranzac for me—also, Eric Chenaux, someone I’ve played with a lot around here, particularly from 2004 to 2008.

TORONTOIST: What do you think it is about the Tranzac that made it such a welcoming place for experimental and improv music, which are still very much a part of the Tranzac scene?
SP: Folk music, in this city, is still, weirdly, outsider music. There didn’t use to be a lot of places to go and hear traditional folk, especially downtown. A lot of the improv guys were interested in folk as well, and starting to do things that draw on folk music. So they’re two forms of music that didn’t have a lot of outlets in this city. And those guys wanted to play somewhere low-key that wasn’t a rock club. You could do shows for free in the front room, and just make it a PWYC affair, without having to worry about the financial side of putting on a show; because many of those types of shows, typically, don’t have a financial side [laughs].
Also, the people working here, at that time—and still—were into different kinds of music, and wanted it to not be strictly folk, necessarily. And with experimental and improv music, you eliminate that whole loud rock band problem, with the neighbors complaining about the volume.
TORONTOIST: With the Tranzac in a residential area, that’s very much a concern.
SP: Yeah, and it has been an ongoing problem in the last eight years. Three or four years ago, the complaints were rolling in, when there was a peak in Tranzac activity, and a lot of shows were happening here. And louder shows—Fucked Up were playing here, and all kinds of stuff, in the Main Hall. When the Tranzac was doing really well, that’s when they got hit with those complaints.
I’m not sure the curfew has had anything to do to with with the current issues…

TORONTOIST: It’s an impediment, or challenge, that a lot of the other interviewees have mentioned—if you can’t play past eleven o’clock, rock bands that would draw a lot of people won’t be as keen to play here. So it’s been an adjustment period for the Tranzac in the past couple of years, that shows have to maybe be quieter, and start and end earlier, that sort of thing?
SP: I think so.
TORONTOIST: This is the first interview we’ve conducted since the NOW article came out, talking about how an anonymous donor is matching a City of Toronto renovation grant, which should start next spring, and they’re halfway to their fundraising goal, and their membership has doubled, so there’s a lot of good news. It certainly seems like people are rallying around the Tranzac.
SP: Yeah? That’s good to hear. It’s a unique space—I can’t think of any other space in the city that’s comparable, for the diversity of styles of music played here. Also, you can have a close, intimate show in the Southern Cross; or a big blowout in the Main Hall; it’s really flexible.
There’s an issue with the spaces being so close, but I think people have gotten used to the sound leakage between rooms. When there were louder punk shows here, they were thinking of getting steel doors between the Main Hall and the front rooms. But that [leakage] is a small price to pay for a place as unique as this.
TORONTOIST: It’s part of the appeal, isn’t it—being able to bounce from room to room? You don’t feel like an interloper poking your head into a room to see what’s going on; I don’t think steel doors would have been conducive to that.
So, for your own personal projects—Polmo Polpo, Glissandro 70 [with Craig Dunsmuir], Double Suicide [with Ryan Driver]—has the Tranzac been a particularly supportive place to develop those?
SP: Oh, yeah. From the very beginning. One of the first shows I played where I sang—sang my own songs—was here, in the Main Hall. I was given the opportunity to come back and play more shows, in the Hall, or the Southern Cross. Everyone here is really sweet, and really supportive. People like Cassandra [Rutherford], who used to manage the place (and still helps out here off and on), and Colin [Puffer] and Dave [Lang], the sound guys.
If the Tranzac wasn’t here, I would have gone through an entirely different sort of development. Having a place to play, regularly, that feels like a central space for the musicians I was interested in playing with, made it easier to put things together. When you feel you’ve got a point of focus, it’s easier to put your attention there. So, that’s the case; if I didn’t have a place like this, I’d probably wouldn’t have been able to produce certain projects as well as I did. Not necessarily that I did so well [laughs], but I couldn’t have done so so easily; especially not without the people I’ve met here, and collaborated with. Everyone who comes here is interested in music, it seems to me.

s

CORRECTION: DECEMBER 9, 2010, 1:35 PM This article originally mistakenly said that the Silt’s final show at the Tranzac, on the same night that we interviewed Perri, was an “all-nighter”; the show actually only went until around midnight. CORRECTION TO OUR CORRECTION, 2:25 PM …or, according to one band member, a few hours later than that. But still not an all-nighter.

Evalyn Parry sits on an expanded version of the Tranzac Main Hall stage. Photo by Lodoe-Laura Haines-Wangda/Torontoist.

The Tranzac Club still has money woes, though things are looking up for the new year. While the Annex staple is raising money to cover its current operating deficit, Torontoist is conducting a series of interviews with musicians who have close ties to it. Up today: Evalyn Parry, a musician, poet, and theatre creator who’s been frequenting (and performing at) the Tranzac for decades. She is the co-founder of the Independent Aunties theatre company, an associate artist and the Young Creators Unit director at Buddies in Bad Times Theatre, and has spent the better part of this year touring her musical SPIN, about feminism and bicycles—using bicycles as instruments—across Canada.

EVALYN PARRY: My parents were Morris dancers, and were very involved with what has now become the Flying Cloud Folk Club—it used to be the Fiddler’s Green Folk Club. So I grew up coming to folk shows here, and Morris dance practices, and weekend events. I was part of a crew of kids who’d been coming here since I was 5 or 6, and we felt like we owned the place.
I don’t remember what was going on upstairs at the time—it wasn’t set up for rentals like it is now—but there were empty offices up there, so while the adults were doing whatever they were doing, we’d be upstairs hanging out, and playing hide and seek, So that’d be my earliest memories of the place, in the early to mid-eighties.
TORONTOIST: So, at that time, was the Tranzac still more for Aussies and Kiwis, or was it already a general purpose cultural space?
EP: It was already a very diverse cultural centre. The NAGS were doing their community theatre here. The reason I was here was because of my parents, and those groups didn’t have any Australian or New Zealander affiliations. For the last thirty years, the Tranzac has been this general purpose hub for Toronto arts and culture.

TORONTOIST: So you grew up here while your parents were doing Morris dance and Fiddler’s Green—when did you start performing here yourself?
EP: Well, in the last ten or twelve years, really. I moved away for university and for a while after, so when I came back, that’s when I got involved myself, performing as a grown up [laughs]. Since I moved back to Toronto, and have been working here, I’ve been coming to a lot of shows at the Traznac, and playing a lot of shows, in all the rooms. I’ve played in other people’s shows, and been to countless parties, and CD releases, and fundraisers and all the many other things the Tranzac is used for.
One thing my parents were also involved in, that continues—they’re not really involved anymore, but I am, a little bit—is a multi-cultural celebration in the Christmas season—a really inclusive, diverse celebration for this time of year. It’s a really nice community event.
TORONTOIST: So it’s not just music scenes, although there’s a great many here…
EP: Yeah, amazing music scenes here!
TORONTOIST: A lot of the other interviewees have spoken about the jazz scene, and folk scene, the singer/songwriters who use the spaces here. But the Tranzac is also used for arts fairs, and non-denominational celebrations, and all sorts of other events.
EV: Well, there’s not many spaces like it, and part of its charm is that it’s not a fancy building; it hasn’t been renovated in a while. It hasn’t been gentrified, or privatized; it’s owned by its members, and run by them, on a shoestring budget, sometimes, but it has that…well, “charm” doesn’t even cover it. It serves a real need for the community. In a city like Toronto, where there are so many pay-to-play venues, for musicians and performers, this is actually a place that’s accessible and affordable.
TORONTOIST: So a lot of the members have been coming here for many, many years. But a lot of the users of the Tranzac are predominantly younger. What do you think the Tranzac has to do to evolve, to become a club for these younger musicians and patrons, rather than just a venue?
EV: Well, that’s what, presumably, [this campaign] is saying, that if people want this place to stay, they need to see it that way.

Up next in the Tranzac Transcripts series: our final interview, with musician and producer Sandro Perri.

Andrew Penner chose the Tranzac’s upstairs bathroom as his favourite spot in the Tranzac. “The night of our CD release, we put together a choir on the spot—it must have been close to thirty people—and the building was really hopping, so this was the only place we could rehearse. We crammed everyone in here, I backed into the corner, and we learned the song together in ten minutes. It was one of those really special Tranzac moments, for me.” Photo by Corbin Smith/Torontoist.

The Tranzac Club still has money woes, though things are looking up for the new year. While the Annex staple is raising money to cover its current operating deficit, Torontoist is conducting a series of interviews with musicians who have close ties to it. Up today: Andrew Penner’s music career is inextricably linked to the Tranzac. He and his band, Sunparlour Players, have spent this past year touring their sophomore album Wave North, creating theatre with the Kitchenband collective, and contributing music to the upcoming feature film Small Town Murder Songs. Penner and the band also make tasty preserves.

ANDREW PENNER: The Tranzac is definitely (or, at least, probably) THE home in Toronto for alternative music, whether it’s improvisational jazz, or experimental folk music, experimental rock, or any hyphenated genre you want to say [laughs]. I don’t know what the answer is to their current situation; I just know, for me, it was crucial.
The Sunparlours did a residency there from summer of 2005 to summer of 2006, a full year, and it was so good… we played the front room, and it was a chance for us to figure out what our songs were. We went from writing the songs, to seeing them transform live, and figuring out what our first album would be. It was a breeding ground, for us.

TORONTOIST: So a lot of the songs on your first album Hymns for the Happy came out of that residency?
AP: A lot of them were written before, but a lot of them were written at the Tranzac, or changed there. It was “let’s break out a new tune for next week’s show!” It was really great for me; it was a launching pad.
We met a lot of other artists, there, too. There’s a real scene there. I don’t know if I can say, personally, that we were a large part of that…
TORONTOIST: Well, like you said, there’s so many different scenes there. I wonder if anyone knows all the different scenes there, save for maybe the bartenders.
AP: Yeah, probably. [laughs] I think maybe it’s something more personal with me, where I never quite feel like I fit in.
TORONTOIST: What about your earliest experiences with the Tranzac, before you guys started the residency? What brought you in?
AP: The first time I went in there? I can remember exactly! It was the St. Dirt Elementary School. They’re a jazz band; Jake Oelrichs of Run With The Kittens is their drummer, and Ryan Driver plays a whole bunch of stuff. It’s masterminded by this pedal steel player, Myk Freedman.

The first thing I saw was that. I went in, and was like, “what the hell is this place? It’s like a clubhouse!” It was in the front room; the Southern Cross room has always been my favourite.
So that was my first thing there, and then, well, the Southern Cross is one of the only open mic nights I’ve ever done, before I started playing anything live, in early 2005.
TORONTOIST: You were working primarily as an actor, then, yes? So, this is what encouraged you to start going out and doing your own music?
AP: Yeah, I was writing a lot, and I really didn’t enjoy doing any acting stuff at the time. So I was really starting to get pumped about the stuff I was working on musically, and you want to see if anybody else connects with that.
So I went out and played two songs at this open mic there, and I remember I really hurt my hips, because there’s a cement floor in the Southern Cross, and I was slamming my feet down so hard! And a couple of days later, I got a call from one of the managers, and they wanted me to come back.
TORONTOIST: That’s terrific… you mean, the first time you went out to do the open mic, they were like, “we want you to come back!”
AP: Yeah, totally! I did that, and then, from that, we did a show a month later, and then, the day after the show, they were like, “we want you to do a residency here.” So, the first Sunparlour shows were me solo, and then, we started up at the Tranzac as a duo, and then a trio.

TORONTOIST: So, what makes the Tranzac special, as compared to other live music venues?
AP: There’s no venue like it in Toronto, in that you could just walk in, any day of the week, and see something completely different. Like, you’ll see the Jamzac, this jam session of older folk players, or you’ll see a poetry reading, or the loudest garage rock band you’ll ever see.
Two years ago, I went to see Bjork’s drummer do this live free association jazz show there, and it was packed; The improvisational and experimental scene in Toronto, they know his stuff.
It’s a big building, and I know they’ve been struggling for years, for almost a decade now. But it’s like a petri dish for this city, where a lot of stuff that wouldn’t be heard otherwise develops. That’s probably why, economically, it hasn’t been doing well the past few years, since it’s doing an alternative thing; but that’s also why we all need it to stick around. After it goes away, you can’t just spin something like that up.
TORONTOIST: We’re at Theatre Passe Muraille right now for this interview, which was looking like it might close a few years ago, and the City of Toronto bought it and leased it back to the theatre, and now it’s doing great. So, maybe something like that is possible for the Tranzac, too.
AP: I hope so.

Sunparlour Players are hosting a special holiday cotillion at the Music Gallery on December 9.
Up next for the Tranzac Transcripts: multidisciplinary performer Evalyn Parry.

Bob Wiseman sits in the Tranzac Club’s Main Hall, while a group soundchecks on the stage. Photo by Joel Charlebois/Torontoist.

The Tranzac Club still has money woes, though things are looking up for the new year. While the Annex staple is raising money to cover its current operating deficit, Torontoist is conducting a series of interviews with musicians who have close ties to it. Up today: Bob Wiseman, a veteran musician and filmmaker with ties to Toronto’s independent music, film, and comedy scenes. He’s played in the past with Blue Rodeo and The Hidden Cameras, and his solo musical work spans more than twenty-five years; his album In Her Dream: Bob Wiseman Sings Wrench Tuttle, was recently given a twentieth anniversary re-release by Blocks Recording Club, a co-operative label Wiseman is on the board of directors for. Wiseman is also a board member of the Liaison of Independent Filmmakers of Toronto, The Toronto Animated Image Society, and The Tranzac Club itself.

BOB WISEMAN: There’s been some hurdles this last year at The Tranzac Club. The summer was slow, and losing the Fringe was difficult, as that was a guaranteed deal, and there were other benefits to the Fringe being here… it was really a drag when the Fringe left, to go to Honest Ed land, but so it goes.
There’s been maintenance issues recently with the building, too; the furnace broke about nine months ago, so that was eight grand right there; that torpedoed the reserve fund.
At the same time, the Tranzac has acquired—finally [laughs]—parking. People just parked on the lot all the time; now it’s a paid parking zone, so that’s created some revenue for the club.
The thing, I think, is that a lot of the people who utilize the Tranzac don’t grasp that there’s memberships. [Laughs.] A lot of the older people here know about that, about keeping something alive. There’s a lot of people who love this place, but don’t know about the club [being a co-op], and that’s how this situation could improve. People can get memberships, and become participatory, and help sustain the Tranzac. It needs more, of course, than just the base twenty-five-dollar memberships, but those are a great place to start.
The Tranzac is a really charming and remarkable place in the midst of Toronto, because it feels like you’re in a small town when you come in here.

TORONTOIST: Yeah, that’s come up a lot; it has that “cottage” feel.
So, how do you see the Tranzac transitioning? When it was older, it was primarily about promoting Australian and New Zealand culture, and now, that’s less important in the mandate.
BW: Well, those are its origins, which are cool, but it couldn’t survive on that.
I offered to become part of the board because of my work with Blocks Recording Club, which had been renting space here since 2003. The board reached out to us, asking us to be involved in the Tranzac more, and I volunteered to be a liaison between Blocks and the Tranzac. The result has been a steep learning curve for me, trying to grasp the history and current perspective of the club.
I think why it’s survived is that it morphed to become something more than just an Australian and New Zealand club. It expanded its mandate to become an inclusive performance space, and made itself available to all the wild variety that exists here; the indie rock, the folk, the jazz, the Zine Library upstairs (which is fascinating). There are other artists who rent space upstairs, like Victor Bateman, the jazz and country musician.

TORONTOIST: Councillor Adam Vaughan—he was instrumental in getting the license changed so that live music had to end here by 11 p.m., yes?
BW: That was the compromise [with the neighbours], that stuff had to end here by eleven. That’s part of why this became a less coveted space to rent. We have to be creative with it. Someone wrote to me recently, suggesting, “Well, why don’t they have a coffee shop in the front?” He had other interesting suggestions about how to run the club as a business, and I said, “Well, dude, those are cool ideas… so why don’t you get involved?” What has to happen is we need to foster more interest in participation here.
TORONTOIST: More people need to be invested in the club itself.
BW: That’s what we’re trying to mobilize with this campaign.
We also need, frankly, gifts; we need donors, which has happened in the past, over the club’s long history. John Sladek [a fellow board member, and past president] is saying, “We need to find people who will give the Tranzac $250, $500 donations, like twenty or thirty larger scale donors.” For a lot of the musicians who play here, that’s a tall order.
It’s really imperative to get people who aren’t members to realize that how the Tranzac is sustained is by people taking out a membership, which you can do easily online now, and now is the time. For former members, now’s the time to renew, and if they can extend $100, $200, $500 as a donation, that will go a long way.
The immediate problems will be solved if we can meet the forty grand target. It’s not like we’re going to raise that, and then, in three months time, ask for another forty grand, or else the club will die. Forty grand would give the club time to restructure the mortgage, plug the financial leak, and reorganize some other things.
TORONTOIST: So the question we’re asking everyone: what is it about the Tranzac that makes it unique? You’re here a lot, playing in the Southern Cross Lounge, and seeing a lot of shows here. Why should the Tranzac be saved?
BW: There’s a lot of corporate spaces in Toronto, a lot of places to perform, and see shows. Many of those places are intimidating; it’s all about the cover, and there’s bouncers, and it’s about the fashion and coolness of the scene. Those are aspects of Toronto that many people, here and across Canada, loathe. The Tranzac is an unpretentious place, where sparks fly; it’s charming, and stimulating. There’s a real relief for people walking in here for the first time; it’s like a Legion, but where anybody can hang.
TORONTOIST: In the Southern Cross Lounge, for instance, there’s no stage, no division from the audience; people just get up and walk over and start playing, sometimes.
BW: Yeah; it’s just loose, friendly, and accessible.

Most good things, like the Tranzac, are impossible to sustain without people actively making them work. The Liason of Independent Filmmakers of Toronto is a great example of a group that’s continued making their thing work. They make film equipment and classes available to the community, and they never lose sight of the fact that they need to be vigilant about perpetuating what they are, and helping people discover how they can utilize LIFT. The Tranzac hasn’t developed their outreach skills to that level; if we get through this, perhaps we’ll arrive at a place where that’s established.
TORONTOIST: It’s also that a place like the Tranzac happens organically. It’s very hard to open a new space and create a community like the Tranzac already has. There’s a tangible sense of history, that would be hard to duplicate.
BW: People need places like this. If it goes bankrupt, and has to sell—because the real estate is worth millions, in this location in the Annex—the board will close and sell it, to a condo developer, probably. The club will pay off the debts, and that’ll be that. All the people who savour the Tranzac, and are nurtured by it, they’ll probably find somewhere else, though I don’t know where.
But the sad part will be, lots of people will say, “What the fuck!?! How did this happen?” We’re trying to be birds in the coal mine, and let people know that it could happen.

Next up in the Tranzac Transcripts: Sunparlour Players’ Andrew Penner.

Lisa Bozikovic sits at the piano in the Tranzac Club’s Southern Cross Lounge. Photo by Andrew Louis/Torontoist.

The Tranzac Club is in trouble, and while the Annex staple is raising money to stay alive, Torontoist is conducting a series of interviews with musicians who have close ties to it. Up today: Lisa Bozikovic, whose debut album, Lost August, we liked. She’s toured all across Canada, most recently opening for Ohbijou, who she joined last weekend for a fundraiser at the Tranzac.

LISA BOZIKOVIC: I can’t even imagine how I would have started in music without the Tranzac. I came here when I first moved to Toronto in 2006, a little under four years ago. Everything about it was very supportive… I came to an open mic my first time, when I was totally new to Toronto, and I had no idea where to go, where to start playing shows—I didn’t know how to play shows. I was living in an environment that wasn’t conducive to meeting other musicians, or people in the music community; but the first time I walked in here, I felt totally welcomed. I think Colin [Puffer, the Tranzac's longtime sound technician] was here, and he gave me a mix CD at the end of the night, saying “You should listen to this, because this sounds like this!” It was this introduction to Toronto music.
Half the musicians I work with now, or have met in Toronto, are through the Tranzac.

TORONTOIST: So it’s a community hub, for musicians, or the circles you travel in…
LB: Yeah, yeah! But it’s also a good starting point when you’ve just moved to the city, because so many people come through its doors; musicians gravitate towards it. I don’t think there’s anything like it in other cities, this particular scene, or the experimental scene, or folk scene.
TORONTOIST: And you can say that with some authority—you’ve just gotten back from being on tour. Where were you touring most recently?
LB: I toured out west with Ohbijou, opening for them on the coast. And then, I played some of my own shows around Vancouver Island, and stayed there for a while.
TORONTOIST: I’ve spent some time on the west coast myself, and there are a lot of really neat, arts-oriented, collective-run spaces and venues on Vancouver Island, and elsewhere in B.C.
LB: But they’re not as big. [Laughs.] The amount and variety of stuff that comes through the Tranzac is pretty extraordinary.
TORONTOIST: That’s what’s great about the Tranzac, I think; it has that small town feel in this huge bustling metropolis. It feels like those cottages and community-run clubs in small communities, like Wakefield’s Black Sheep Inn.

LB: Absolutely, and that’s why it’s not intimidating for a new musician moving to the city. Or also, if you want to try something different… people come here, and it’s like being in someone’s living room. There aren’t many places like that in Toronto that have that aura.
TORONTOIST: Have you booked nights at the Tranzac, yourself?
LB: I haven’t had a residency, no, though I’ve played here a lot. I do have a residency at the Holy Oak Cafe.
TORONTOIST: What’s the connection with the Holy Oak and the Tranzac?
LB: Justin used to work at the Tranzac, for… I don’t know how many years, but probably a long time, and then he opened up his own place.
TORONTOIST: I’ve talked with Bob Wiseman, and Evalyn Parry, who’ve both been coming here for a long time, but I wanted to get a perspective from somebody like yourself, who’s relatively new to the Toronto music scene.
LB: Sure. Well, all, or many, of my friends who have moved here more recently, or my friends who were here [at the Tranzac] before me, had that same impression: that this is a rich place to start performing, and there’s this tapestry of connections, this really beautiful community. A community that’s really unique, that’s supportive and open to new ideas.
I met Sandro Perri here, through playing a show, and he became a good friend, and ended up producing my album. I could list fifty people I’ve met through the Tranzac who have helped me [with my music].
TORONTOIST: So the Tranzac’s been going through a rough period…
LB: Which has happened before.
TORONTOIST: Yes, but they’re really hoping to rally the troops this time, so to speak….I’ve been coming here a long time, a decade or more of seeing shows, especially during the Fringe Festival, which has moved on. This [Save The Tranzac campaign] is looking to bring people back to the club, and get them involved. Unless the Tranzac transitions through this period, we’re all going to lose it, because this is prime real estate.

LB: The Toronto Women’s Bookstore just recently had a major fundraising drive to keep from going bankrupt, and they managed to raise, I think, like forty thousand dollars.
TORONTOIST: So there’s reason to be optimistic about the Tranzac’s campaign. There are so many groups: the improv jazz scene, the folk scene, all sorts of different music scenes, and theatre groups who use the Main Hall stage, like the Queen’s Players, and the Toronto Zine Library, which uses the upstairs space—there are so many groups that get so much use out of the Tranzac. It’s just a question of getting the word out, so everyone rallies around the club to save it.
LB: It’s so funny… I feel like, by default, everyone knows that this is one of the most amazing and comfortable places to be in the city, and integral to the development of the particular kind of experimental and open-minded art that happens here.
TORONTOIST: You’d think, but it’s also a well-kept secret just how much goes on here, and that’s part of the problem. The community at large needs to know all about the Tranzac’s true worth.
LB: And I’m hoping to help any way I can.

Next up in the Tranzac Transcripts: Bob Wiseman.

Tamara Lindeman perches on some chairs in the Tranzac Main Hall. Photo by Nancy Paiva/Torontoist.

The Tranzac Club is in trouble, and while the Annex staple is raising money to stay alive, Torontoist is conducting a series of interviews with musicians who have close ties to it. First up: Tamara Lindeman, whose band, The Weather Station, played with Rock Plaza Central at last Friday’s Tranzac fundraiser. She’s also a member of Bruce Peninsula, and is a founding (and current) member of Entire Cities; she co-produced their upcoming new album I Hope You Never Come Home.

TAMARA LINDEMAN: I first found out about the Tranzac when I was at University of Toronto, and didn’t know anything about the music scene here. I met this fella, who was like, “There’s this band, Sunparlour Players, they’re really crazy!” So he took me to the Tranzac to see them play—they used to play every week, they had a residency then—and I was blown away; I’d never heard music like this; I was from a small town, this was amazing! Here was this packed house to see these two men screaming and hitting things.
So that was a good introduction to the Tranzac. It was the tail end of their residency, before I was in any bands, so 2004? I’ve always loved going to see shows there, and I’ve done many shows there—my CD release was there in April 2009, and I did a year of shows there in 2008.

TORONTOIST: So you first started developing and trying out material for your album East at the Tranzac?
TL: For sure. As a person who plays quieter music, it’s ideal…everything else is too big, or too noisy, or too small, or too far away. Everyone knows where the Tranzac is, and how to get there. The Southern Cross room there is just such a good size for [acoustic] shows.
TORONTOIST: It’s pretty unique in Toronto, isn’t it?
TL: It’s funny; I think people have realized that we need more spaces like the Tranzac. Like the Holy Oak Cafe—as a venue, it’s a big shift. I think they’re doing great stuff. The Dakota Tavern, too. But yeah, that could be part of the problem; maybe there was a point when the Tranzac was the only place for certain kinds of music, and now, the Dakota’s taking the country scene, for example.
But the Tranzac is just so much bigger than any of those places. I guess a problem is that the bands that play at and love the Tranzac have trouble filling the Main Hall regularly.
TORONTOIST: Well, it’s difficult to do shows in the Main Hall because they have to be over by 11 p.m. [a noise curfew, due to their residential zoning].
TL: Yeah. It’s an issue.
To me, the Tranzac is also all about the Constellation Records guys, and the improvisational, jazz, and experimental music scenes. You’d have to ask them, of course, but It seems to me that those scenes came from the Tranzac, or were nurtured there, and I’ve never heard anything like it anywhere else in the world. Guys like Ryan Driver and Eric Chenaux; it’s not necessarily everyone’s kind of music, but there are people in Germany and Australia who are like, “What is this music, and where is it coming from?” And the answer is the Tranzac.

There’s also all sorts of singer-songwriter types, like me, who call it home. Those times when I’ve been going to the Tranzac regularly, I always felt, “Oh, wow, this person did this, I’ve never even seen that before!” You’d see things you’d have never thought to do, and you’re driven to be so much more creative.
TORONTOIST: It does seem, though, that the last few times I’ve been to the Tranzac, that there’s been great talent playing there, but there are like, a dozen people there.
TL: Yeah. What the Tranzac is facing is a problem with Toronto; we’re all so spoiled, with so much amazing music and art going on every night, and many of us don’t leave the house often enough! [Laughs.] And I include myself in that number. There are so many great things going on, and people don’t always appreciate what’s out there before it’s gone.
I also wonder if the centre of gravity [for music in Toronto] has shifted away from the Annex to the west end, with the Garrison, the Dakota Tavern, the Painted Lady, the whole Ossington strip.
TORONTOIST: There are bands playing regularly all along Ossington now, places where there was never live music before, who’re competing for attention.
So if I was to play devil’s advocate, and say, “Okay, if there are places like the Dakota and the Holy Oak that welcome acts that used to play almost exclusively at the Tranzac, why do we still need the Tranzac?”
TL: Well, the Dakota is a great space, but it’s really rock n’ roll and country; if you play quietly there some nights, you’ll get ignored. I like that place so much, and the people who work there are great, but I saw Daniel, Fred, & Julie there, and there were so many people that were talking so loudly! I mean, I’ve seen those guys shut crowds up at the Horseshoe Tavern. The Dakota has a partying clientele.
The Garrison is too big for most folk acts, who can’t pull in a large enough crowd. It’s a great rock venue, though, that compares to the Tranzac’s Main Hall. The Holy Oak is the only venue in town comparable, I think, to the Tranzac’s Southern Cross Lounge.
But what’s most important about the Tranzac is the clientele. When people go there, they’re really respectful towards artists playing quiet music. You go in there, and you can hear a pin drop. And the sound is so good in the Southern Cross, with the vaulted ceiling; it’s really special. The sound is great in the Main Hall, too, and a lot of bands forget about it as a venue.

Another thing that’s special about the Tranzac is how, often, there are three different things going on (in the Main Hall, Southern Cross Lounge, and Tiki Room), and you can wander from room to room. I can remember times when I’ve left the Southern Cross to look for a chair in the Tiki Room, and there’s like twenty people playing Irish flutes, and then I’ll open the door to the Main Hall, and there’s a funk band playing, and meanwhile, there’s a jazz trio in the Southern Cross…it’s just such an eclectic and bizarre mix of people and scenes.
TORONTOIST: And if the Tranzac goes under, a lot of those people and scenes will be disenfranchised.
TL: Absolutely.
One of my favourite memories of the Tranzac, one of my first times playing there, was at the Main Hall, playing someone’s CD release [with Entire Cities], and we came off stage, and walked by the Southern Cross room, and there was this sound. It was like a chorus of people singing, and someone was unrolling tin foil, and my bandmates and I watched with our hands and faces up to the glass, like bugs to a light, and finally opened the door and squeezed inside. And it was Bruce Peninsula playing one of their first shows. And I had this emotional—ungh!—I was full-on crying, I was blown away.
That was a Tranzac first, and really special, but there’s been so many moments like that there. In the process of booking [residency shows] for the Tranzac, I found myself going out and finding people, then hearing them and playing with them, a lot of people I didn’t know, like Isla Craig, and $100, and Snowblink, and Sandro Perri, and Lisa Bozikovic, and Owle Birde…y’know what? I’ve met everyone I know at the Tranzac! [Laughs.]

Next up in the Tranzac Transcripts: singer-songwriter Lisa Bozikovic.

Two men, many hands; Woodhands play a rare hometown gig at Lee’s Palace tonight. Photo by Chris Frampton, courtesy of Paper Bag Records.

In today’s Urban Planner, the Gourmet Food and Drink Expo offers delicacies galore (or order in via Burrito Bike Toronto); concerts from Woodhands, Rich Aucoin, and Rock Plaza Central and friends; and NYC improviser Christian Cappozoli takes over the stage at Bad Dog Theatre.

FOOD: Today’s a good day to be a gastrophile; the Gourmet Food and Wine Expo continues today (and through the weekend). You can sample the many delicacies on the expo floor, or splurge for a ticket to the six-course Gourmet Gala. Metro Convention Centre (255 Front Street West), 2–10 p.m. (VIP gala 5:30–9 p.m.), $16 general admission ($195 VIP gala ticket, includes admission).
FOOD: Of course, if you’d rather have good food delivered to you at a ridiculously reasonable price, tonight’s the launch of Burrito Bike Toronto (which we wrote about in detail this week). South of Bloor, North of King, East of Roncesvalles, West of Spadina, 6 p.m.–1 a.m., $6.
MUSIC: Tonight’s the first of many fundraising concerts for everyone’s favourite cultural club; Rock Plaza Central will play host to many friends, including The Weather Station and Metal Kites, at the Tranzac (292 Brunswick Avenue), doors at 8 p.m., $15 at the door. If you’re more in the mood to get really sweaty dancing in a large venue, there’s the sixteenth edition of the Steam Whistle Unsigned series, with guests Young Empires, Rich Aucoin, and DVAS at The Roundhouse (255 Bremner Boulevard), doors at 8 p.m., $5 at the door. Also likely to be a frenzied party affair is the return of hometown heroes Woodhands, playing with Bonjay and Grahmzilla, at Lee’s Palace (529 Bloor Street West), doors at 9 p.m., $15 at the door.
COMEDY: Bad Dog Theatre has esteemed New York City improviser Christian Capozzoli as a guest all weekend, and is putting him to good use as much as possible. Tonight, Capozzoli will be a special guest on the competitive musical improv show Troubadour; following that, he’ll perform a set of his signature show 4Track Improv, with special (Canadian) guest improvisers Mike Fly, Michal Grajewski, and Kayla Lorette. Bad Dog Theatre (138 Danforth Avenue), 8 p.m. & 9:30 p.m., $8–$12.

Comedian (and cancer survivor) Daniel Stolfi opens his one-man show Cancer Can’t Dance Like This tonight. Detail of a photo by Zoe Lepiano.

In today’s Urban Planner: Mayor Miller and his book about TO, the Tranzac’s public meeting on how it plans to save itself, adults read their childhood writing, up-and-coming comics vie for the Tim Sims Encouragement award, and Cancer Can’t Dance Like This.

INTERVIEW: There are two mayoral debates today: the Waterfront Debate at 1 p.m., and the Parkdale-High Park Mayoralty Debate at 7 p.m. But frankly, we’re debate-fatigued, especially by how the candidates talk about Toronto being close to ruination (we know Joey Pants big-ups Toronto, but he’s usually shouted down). Wouldn’t it be great to listen to someone say nice things about our city? Whatever you think about his term in office, Mayor Miller has always been effusive in his love for Toronto (he really xos TO), and his new book Witness to a City embodies that love. He’ll be interviewed by John McGrath at tonight’s early edition of This Is Not a Reading Series. Gladstone Hotel Ballroom (1215 Queen Street West), 6:30 p.m., $5.
MEETING: We broke the news about how the Tranzac is in trouble and how they’re attempting to rally support for the clubhouse before it’s gone forever. Tonight’s public meeting will invite discussion on the fundraising campaign, and will outline more details on how the club can be saved. The Tranzac (292 Brunswick Avenue), 7:30 p.m., FREE.
SHOW & TELL: The popular Grown-Ups Read Things They Wrote as Kids has become a ticketed event due to demand (all the cash will be donated to Frontier College), and like Trampoline Hall, it looks like it’s become one of those events where you either get your (now sold-out) advance ticket ridiculously early, or show up ridiculously early for an at-the-door ticket. Bring some childhood writing, and if you read, you’re comped! The Garrison (1197 Dundas Street West), doors at 7:30 p.m., starts at 8 p.m., $5.
COMEDY: Twenty up-and-coming comedy acts vie for five finalist slots for this year’s Tim Sims Encouragement Award at tonight’s Fresh Meat Showcase. At this point, it’s a wide open field; anyone who delivers a knockout set tonight has a shot. Second City (51 Mercer Street), 8 p.m., $10 (plus HST).
THEATRE: Comedian (and cancer survivor) Daniel Stolfi opens a week-long run of his hit show Cancer Can’t Dance Like This tonight. He’s already raised thousands for cancer research with performances across Ontario, but this will be the first multi-show run; now that he’s finally finished treatment, he has the energy to perform more than one night at a time. Pia Bowman Theatre (6 Noble Street), 8:30 p.m., $20.