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The Scarecrow and Mrs. King Lizard Café

It is one of those places where the unique atmosphere - an atmosphere of eerie calm, lush and uniform at a time - is so mesmerizing that it recalls the grandeur of a starry call to life. One enters the physical space and it feels good immediately. Love this place, we breath our hearts. It is nice to escape the world by drinking coffee, fun to drink while listening to live music quality is great and may even, in the best case, be a memorable experience.

this Sunday where we have (finally) fell earlier, I went to the Coffee Lizard Beaubien Street for a coffee and especially to attend a performance by the jazz pianist Karine Bétournay and guitarist Nick Di Giovanni .

The duo gave us more than two hours of music where you could hear jazz standards of all kinds, such as Rodgers and Hammerstein as well as "hits" Someday my prince as Will Come . The place was bulging with people and I was alone, sitting at a table for four, when the pianist came to me and asked if I could share my table with two people his knowledge. No problem! I told him, then came a few seconds later, the very kind of musician parents, with whom I could happily chatting for much of the afternoon.

Jazz was heard today at the cafe fits perfectly in the usability of the site. The metallic and finely rounded tone of the piano covered the entire dining room, while the melodious electric guitar timbre - a stamp of a suave sound that almost made love learning to sing - recalled those moments when the sun s 'prepares to emerge in the early hours of spring. Nick Di Giovanni has a game of great clarity. He touched the instrument with precision, leaving constantly "talk" his sister while slipping solos in which the invention was of great finesse. Playing the bass line when indulged in a solo pianist delusional (but tasteful), guitarist dazzled by the way he just put "right thing" arrangements and melodies, remaining faithful to the rule of less is more which unfortunately is ignored by many musicians. Karine Bétournay, meanwhile, surprised by a physical game, very rich and expressive that might suggest a voice singing all the paths from childhood, where each note became an assertion of happiness found. At all times, his right hand, lithe, remained deeply musical. Together, these two musicians were of the habit more than a musician, they were just artists.

We know it is not obvious to a jazz piano and guitar playing together. These instruments, capable both of sumptuous harmonies, can easily walk one over the other. Today, we were treated to a demonstration that these two musical voice acted real accomplices, more real friends, which has been confirmed in an interview friendly with the musicians after their performances.

I could not finish this post without a word or two slip on Lizard Café, which I visited for the first time today. It is an absolutely charming place that will appeal to all sensibilities and all portfolios. No doubt I will return in the coming days. In addition, Karen and Nick Di Giovanni Bétournay are "regular" establishment, because they play every Sunday at noon. Reader, if you go there for a visit Sunday afternoon, it is likely that crosses!

To visit Web Cafe Lizard is here

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Dancing to prove

was Sunday, Halloween night. I was alone, sitting at the bar of a pub near my house where lighting a small lamp suspended harmonized well with my need to write. To my right, a man of a certain age sipped his liquor. Between sips of gas explosions, I spoke to him. Under its modest appearance hid a sensitivity and erudition impressive. It was about literature (Musil, Proust) and music (Mozart, Bach and Mahler). My moleskin notebook open, I wanted to take up the pen when a couple man and woman showed up. The young woman, a blonde who spoke exclusively in English, had just hit my head and said "I'm sorry." Sitting to my left, she introduced me to the man who accompanied him: "He's my friend . Noticing my notebook, she ignored my conversation with the erudite friend when she asked, naively, if I allowed to read what was written in my book - of course I told him not. Moments later, four "shooters" were lined up on the counter. It was his tour. I was in this bar for just twenty minutes already, I attended the metamorphoses of the atmosphere. I put my notebook, choosing to speak with the young woman, calling at the same time my neighbor to join us. "I just lost my job" me "she said. That's when she expressed her desire to go dancing. Begging his friend to go with her until one of the clubs on Crescent Street, she quickly thrust a refusal on his part. I then proposed a bar in the Plateau Mont-Royal. "You want to come with me?" she asked me. For several minutes, secretly hoping she throws me this invitation, I who, in recent weeks, have often talked about my desire to go dancing. So I welcomed my neighbor at the table, I left the pub and me and the young women got into the first taxi.

She insisted to pay for the race. At the bar, I saw ordered six "shooter" and a pitcher of beer. It was too much for me, but she never asked me my opinion. The Zaz Bar, which is an institution of nightlife Montreal, showed little goodwill upon our arrival. Its 5 feet tall and dust, this pleasant early thirties face and body menu implicit, my faith, enough charm and casualness to turn the heads of most places, so that by its mere presence, dancing bar shone a glow and a more vibrant atmosphere, but also more restless in the best sense of the word.

On several occasions, she gave me, gently, a "Let me go!" I've tried starting the service. Because she wanted to seduce on about better. I did not need me to pray, I who recognized early this complicity that united us. Between us, there was no question of love games, but rather a strange seduction friendly. Whatever the follies which she take part, I knew she and I were back together in the same taxi as the friend with whom she would spend the night lived near my home. Between the songs of Michael Jackson and Bob Marley, I learned she lived in Ottawa and was in Montreal for a few hours or maybe a few days. Meanwhile, I watched his gestures and manners, which harbored a deep need to escape, to escape reality. At one point she told me she felt very close to me: "I Went To You Because You first Looked a lot like me." A few minutes later I saw her kiss a man, then another. I smiled at the gesture and indolent inconsistent, while saddened me despair of those males who were clinging to the hope that one night my friend was not going to calm down. I understand these men, especially at this moment my lips touched those of the beautiful mermaid.

It was past three o'clock in the morning. We were hungry. Rapido on the Mont-Royal Street at the intersection of St-Denis served poutine need to end the evening. That's where my new friend I made that statement shock: she admitted being diagnosed with a brain tumor at the advanced stage. But you will live is not it? I asked him, I do not know, me she said, calmly and sincerely. I then understood the reason for all his excesses, his urge to live, his madness and underlying this unique blend of joy and sorrow, mixed easily observable because it was the purest expression of courage and an appreciation.

The next day, I managed to join - we exchanged our cell numbers. I invited him for coffee, but she could not accept, she was preparing to return to the capital. Only after hanging up I realized I forgot to ask his name, about power add on Facebook. I did not remember to get this information. Sometimes I win these impulses of modesty ...

few minutes before starting to write this post, the smell of this beauty has come back to haunt me. I was not wearing a costume in Halloween night - it either, quite the opposite, but I had just lived one of the strangest nights of my life. More than its flavor, is the voice of the woman who grabbed me at the moment and I would give much to hear again the sweetness of this music "... Because You Looked a lot like me."