Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Behind the Seams

Last September, I was hired by Anne-Marie Lyth, designer and creator of custom higher end corsets, gowns and various sparkly goodies, to cover her company, Cinched Tight Corsets, as they made an appearance at the annual Montreal Fetish Weekend. While the runway shots I took are lovely, check them out on Cinched Tight's Facebook page, I find the backstage stuff much more compelling. There's an air of urgency and anticipation to these shots, like a prizefighter in his locker room, waiting for fight time. Only much, much more attractive...





Photos © 2010 Dominic F. Marceau / F Squared Media

Friday, February 18, 2011

Recombo DNA

Everything happens for a reason. 

God's Favourite DJ? [1]
They were forecasting rain last night. I figured it would be a good idea to take my car to the "Queer Post-Punk" night, where Kate was scheduled to spin her usual array of happy pop muzik. You see, I rarely drive anywhere. With the Montreal transit system being as efficient as it is, there's really no point. Besides, I have an indoor parking spot, which is a gift up here where the white stuff shows its frosty face once in a while. I thought that the rain would wash the weeks (months?) of inactivity off of my baby's silver paint job. Clever bugger, I am! Well, I didn't find myself all that clever after half an hour of going in circles, looking for a parking space. On an empty stomach. When I did manage to squeeze into the tightest God-damn spot I've ever been in in 22 years of driving, we made our way to a Japanese restaurant under the venue of the "Girly Gang of Four".


Queer Post-Punk? What in God's name is that, anyway?
Seriously...


After some damn fine sushi and two pots of the best green tea I've ever had, we made our way upstairs to "Klaus Nomi Land" (Who?). Well, like walking into the "Arkansas Klaus Nomi Appreciation Society Headquarters", the venue was empty. Our friend Chantal was in the DJ booth with her husband Pete: two really amazing people (and equally as amazing DJs!). Unfortunately, Chantal was spinning her fine tunes for the beer fridge. People finally managed to trickle in. All in all, we attract twenty to thirty random hipsters. Tight pants, ahoy! Ugh. Chantal decides to call the woman organizing this shindig, who is sadly bedridden and couldn't join us, only to learn that the other DJ booked for the night just called her and decided to bail. Oozing with professionalism, right? This person is apparently as reliable as Dr Nick Riviera. "Bye Bye, everybody!" Chantal had to leave relatively early as she was scheduled to work at 7 AM this morning (Poor thing!). Which meant that Kate was left holding the fort. It's then that it dawned on me. My car, which was snugly parked a few streets away, contained a few dozens of CDs! Kate and I could tag team it for the rest of the night (Hence the cliché.)! We finally decided that I would do about an hour. Having given up DJing last year to concentrate on projecting an assortment of exploitation trailers during my dear DJ Kali's set*, to say I was a wee bit nervous would be an understatement. 

A few beers later, I was back in from the rain with two CD binders under my arm. When I told you earlier that I rarely used my car, it should also tell you of the selection of CDs I had left in there! Luckily, I had a few copies that any self-respecting music fan should have access to at all times. Wait! Before you scream "Napster!" at me, let me explain something to you, my dear Lars. I try to a minimum number of original CDs in my car. Why? If some random schmuck decides to steal my lovely 2001 Pontiac Sunfire, I don't have a bunch of CDs to replace along with it! I told you. Clever bugger, I am.

Anyhoo, without any further pontificating, here is the setlist I managed to pull out of my...

 
Tag-Team Champions! [2]
LCD Soundsystem :: Dance Yrself Clean
 Anne Clark :: Sleeper in Metropolis 12"
 Killing Joke :: Eighties
 Polysics :: Kaja Kaja Goo
 The Vaselines :: You Think  You're a Man?
 DEVO :: Peek-a-Boo
 Trans Am :: Television Eyes
 Screamers :: Vertigo
 Fugazi :: Waiting Room
 Shellac :: Wingwalker
 Bauhaus :: Silent Hedges
 The Damned :: Plan 9 Channel 7
 Dinosaur Jr :: Freak Scene
 Hüsker Dü :: Everything Falls Apart



  *Big DJ Kali - Mr. DNA announcement forthcoming. 





Photos [1] © 2010 Dominic F. Marceau / F Squared Media
[2] Photo taken with my iPhone 3G S © 2011 Dominic F. Marceau / F Squared Media

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

The Sickness Index.















Ailing 
Bedridden
Confined
Debilitated
Enfeebled
Feverish
Green
Haggard
Infected
Junked
Knackered
Lousy
Malfunctioning
Nauseous
Overheated
Phlegmy
Queasy
Rank
Sick
Tottering
Unhealthy
Vertigo
Weak
Xeromycteria
Yucky
Zonked

Photo © 2008 Dominic F. Marceau / F Squared Media

Monday, February 7, 2011

You can't beat a hard-boiled egg...

There comes a time in every man's life when he stops using clichés to begin everything he writes. Evidently, this isn't such a time. You see, I haven't written much lately. In fact, after writing eight feature-length film scripts between 2001 and 2005, I haven't written a single one since. The Post-Hallowed Halls Stress Disorder that almost did me in also did a number on my literary self-esteem. I think that, with time, I finally managed to bury that junk deep enough that it won't resurface anytime soon. But being engaged to my favourite author/screenwriter doesn't help, though. What?!? You lucky [sanitized for your protection]!! Stop your whining!! I'll kill you!! Actually, it's a yin yang thangOn the one hand, she is as supportive as one can be, cheering me on, trying her best to motivate me and to just get me to write something, anything. But, on the other hand, I know I'll never be as good a writer as she is. Those who follow her blog know exactly what I'm talking about...

I guess that it's why I started doing this blog in the first place. It's going to take me a while to get my confidence back so please be patient. Hey, I'm looking for a purpose to this thing too! I promise not to be too existential -some of these blogs tend to get a wee tad masturbatory- I'm just betting back on the horse.  Call it perseverance, hard-headedness, a desperate (futile?) attempt on my part to get attention, whatever. Bottom line, I'll try not to bore you. In the meantime, just enjoy the purty pitchers...

Photo © 2010 Dominic F. Marceau / F Squared Media