Last weekend Halifax was overrun with the entertainment industry, in a build-up to the Juno Awards. (If you aren’t familiar with the awards, or this year’s specifics, there is lots more information available.)
For me, this mostly meant that downtown was worth avoiding on Saturday because between Juno tourists and closed off streets for the red carpet shenanigans it wouldn’t be worth the effort. Even the myriad gigs around town held little interest for me–the one act I was interested in seeing was the final act in a very long list one night–not scheduled to start until 1AM, and you know that some or all of the preceding half dozen acts would run over. I decided that I wasn’t interested enough to head downtown that late and deal with a barful of people who had been there for hours (and many drinks) more than me.
For other people though, the experience was something totally different. For example, my pal Carsten Knox worked as a PA (that’s “production assistant”, apparently) for the Junos, and has written up his observations from the inside for the Ottawa Citizen.
I recommend that you check out the piece, not just because Carsten is a friend, and a good writer, but because it reinforces all my stereotypes of the entertainment industry–I think I’ll stick to hanging out with writers.
The world of film and TV production is ridiculous in its hierarchy: The PAs are reminded that in quiet moments in which we don’t have anything to do we should offer to go and get bottles of water for the producers, a couple of whom are almost laughably rude and nasty. I forgive them of course, because common courtesy, or the ability to hydrate oneself, is too much to expect from people doing such important work. As a PA you learn quickly to gravitate to the people who are pleasant and ignore the asses.
…
Buck 65 rehearses inside the arena, a space tricked out with long catwalk stages, huge video monitors and an impressive array of lighting cues. Buck sounds good. Ottawa R&B singer Massari gyrates to his song, flanked by a couple of dancers. Divine Brown sings her song six or seven times, flawlessly drawing out the final note every time, raising bumps on the forearms of everyone in the building. Waiting for the crews to get cued, Beduin Soundclash riff on Desmond Dekker’s The Israelites. The bass player plays the White Stripes’ Seven Nation Army. They look bored.
(The “formatted for print” version of the article has a few extra pictures.)
Carsten lives in an entirely different world from me. I think the most shocking thing is to see those sort of Hollywood/celebrity tropes on display in Halifax, that most egalitarian of cities. That sort of thing is at odds with both the traditional warmth and openness of the Maritimes, and with the weird classlessness of the downtown culture.
While the piece is a very interesting look into a different world, it just reaffirms my decision to stay home.
