DVD Review: Leonard Cohen – The Live Broadcast Sessions 1985-1993

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2017

Images from the Internet

Leonard Cohen: The Live Broadcast Sessions 1985-1993

Go Faster Records / MVD Visual

118 minutes, 2016

www.mvdvisual.com

When Leonard Cohen died in November 2016, he was a Canadian, certified Zen monk and orthodox Jew who often sang songs using Christian symbolism, and he left the world a better place. There are many who call him “Canada’s Bob Dylan,” but honestly I would say it was the other way around, and Dylan was “American’s Cohen,” even though Dylan achieved fame first. Sure, Dylan has a way with words, and he’s now won a Nobel Prize for his songs/poetry, but if there was any justice, Cohen’s poems would be more recognized as they were more striking, lyrical and, structured. Dylan likes to rhyme lots of words together, but Cohen built his words into a tower of song, if you will.

However, one thing they definitely have in common is that their voices could be considered less than – err – culturally standard. Dylan’s is generally high and whiney, where Cohen’s is a low rumble, like a storm coming over the horizon.

I came to be a Cohen fan late, after his seminal Various Positions LP (1984), still my favorite set of his tunes, perhaps rivaled only by his Best of collection. I feel extremely lucky to have had the chance to see him perform live a couple of years ago, during his final tour. Sure I sat towards the rear, and yet it was a magical evening.

For this DVD, they compiled some live footage from European television during three tours. Being the day of VHS (or most likely PAL), the images have been significantly cleaned up (or taken from the master tape), though are still a bit grainy – though better than the clip below – but the sound is clear.

The first four cuts are from June 1985, at the Kalvøyafestivalen (Kalvoya Island Festival), in Sandvika, Norway. The 26-minute section starts off with a doo-wop tune (of all things) called “Memories,” from Death of a Ladies Man (1977). On stage, he is smoking a cigarette, puffing during the musical interludes of the songs. The last few albums were nearly whispered, and I wonder how much of that had to do with his heavy leaning on ciggy-butts at that time, because while his voice may not be the prettiest, he has some strong lung power and hits some notes at full volume. Also interesting is how he uses 1950s wrappings to discuss the possibilities of seeing his date’s naked body, or vice versa. “Heart With No Companion” is from Various Positions, a country-tinged tune (there is more than one on this release), mixed with a militaristic marching rhythm. It’s a tricky song because the verbiage sounds negative (e.g., “I sing this for the captain, whose ship has not been built”), but it’s actually about sending love to those who are suffering.

“The Story of Isaac” is from 1969’s Songs From a Room. It tells the Old Testament story of Abraham taking his son up the mountain to sacrifice to the new God to prove his devotion, but it’s taken from the perspective of the young Isaac. The set ends here, and Cohen leaves the stage to come back for the encore, with the apt “I Tried to Leave You,” from New Skin For the Old Ceremony, in 1974. Thematically it’s similar to Paul Simon’s “Overs,” in that the topic is the failure of a relationship breakup. This song goes on for a meandering 10 minutes as Cohen riffs commentary while introducing the band. Honestly, I was getting impatient after about the halfway point of the intros.

The second set, from May 1988, was also recorded in Norway, this time at the Oslo Konserthus (Oslo Concert House). This section is 50 minutes long, but also intersperses short interview segments; more on that later. This was aired as a complete program titled “Take This Waltz,” and it is shown here complete, including the full end credits, I’m happy to say.

The first cut is the powerful and heavily orchestrated “First We Take Manhattan,” a nice way to start off. It comes from the 1988 I’m Your Man record. The band here is tight, and the two women doing the background vocals are killer synced. This is one of the weirder songs in Cohen’s canon, as it is more opaque than most of his others as far as figuring out just what the significance is, and it has been discussed many times. It’s a great one and oft quotes (well, paraphrased), but I still don’t know what “First we take Manhattan / Then we take Berlin” means.

It’s also worth noting the stark difference between the previous 1985 show and this one. Only three years later and there is a cognitive shift going on. The first is still in the tail end of Cohen’s folk-singer-songwriter phase, but this is a turning point into full tilt mode. He’s mostly put down the guitar and began in earnest his trademark way to grasping the microphone cord; his look is also more stylized (which he would keep to the end, though no hat yet) including the loss of his trademark 5 o’clock shadow; his sound is more honed and pre-arranged, and his use of a wider orchestration is in play.

This is even true with some of the older songs, such as the next, “Joan of Arc,” from 1971’s Songs of Love and Hate. Here we are presented with an imagined conversation between Joan and the fire that would envelop her. It’s a brilliant piece that I’ve always liked from the first time I heard it. Here he shares the vocals ably with Julie Christensen (of the California alt-country punk band, The Divine Horsemen!), supported by Perla Batella. It’s an odd love song followed by one of an extreme level of lust, “I’m Your Man,” the title track off the 1988 album. Parts of it have the lyrical tone of Tom Lehrer’s “Masochism Tango,” or a list of possibilities like the Temptation’s “Can’t Get Next to You,” but with Cohen’s basso slow burn in sharps and flats with his patterned growl, it’s way more sensual.

Actually, it makes sense that this would be followed by “Ain’t No Cure for Love,” also from I’m Your Man. If I may digress for a second, between each songs are interviews by Vera Kvaal, who hosted the “TopPop” show at the time, from which I believe this was taken. Cohen discusses his writing, his mother, and his life, among topics. While it’s all very interesting, it kind of takes away from the music. For some songs that’s literally true because we only get to see an excerpts, starting while the song is in progress after the interview clip, and then it cuts away a few times after during the tune. Let me say, sighhhh.

Next, since he’s doing love songs, it’s time for an anti-love one, so he picks up his acoustic black Gibson tell does “Chelsea Hotel #2,” from New Skin…, which is about his brief fling with Janis Joplin. It’s a slow, explicit ballad that is touching and sad, like Harry Chapin’s “Taxi,” of a love that never grew beyond the physical. It’s full of remorse and nostalgia.

For the first of two times on the DVD, is his most covered song, “Hallelujah,” from Various Positions. While it’s a great number, for me it’s overplayed to the point where I’m getting a bit weary of it, when played by another than Cohen, surprisingly. Here, though, they only show part of what’s known as the “profane” version of the lyrics. This is followed by the quasi-doo-wop influenced paean to music, “Tower of Song,” from the I’m Your Man collection. With just the vocal back-up and Cohen on Technics electric piano with a pre-set rhythm keeping time, he gives us a love song not to a person, but to what he’s given his soul (music). Well, that’s how I interpret the lyrics, with music being anthropomorphic in a similar way as Chuck Berry did with a car in “Maybellene.” He finishes this segment with “Take This Waltz,” again from I’m Your Man.

The final 43-minute grouping is from May 1993, recorded at the Palau Municipal d’Esports, in Barcelona, Spain. It starts off strong with one of his then-later songs, “Closing Time,” off of his 1992 album, The Future. Again, this is a complete program that aired on Spanish television that they titled after his opening tune. It says something about the man that nearly 10 years later, he is still being backed vocally by Christensen and Batella. As for Cohen, his hair if definitely graying but his voice is still holding strong, with perhaps a bit more bass to it.

While the previous two shows were visually cleaned up digitally, here you can see a bit of the noise of the PAL transfer as lines will occasionally break out here and there. It’s definitely a fuzzier image than the earlier clips, but it’s also pretty clear relatively, especially when the lights are their brightest. Plus all the songs are captioned in Spanish, and the sound is still great.

Next up is the whispy and whispery “The Sisters of Mercy,” from Cohen’s first album, Songs of Leonard Cohen, in 1967. A tribute to prostitutes, I found the original recorded song a bit “tinny” on the vocals, but here they are quite a bit smoother as his voice has aged. The next tune is also a ballad, from I’m You’re Man, “I Can’t Forget.”

This time when we hear “Hallelujah,” we get most of the song without interruption, in all its (if you’ll pardon the pun) glory. It starts a couple of stanzas in, with “Baby, I’ve been here before…” and I don’t understand why they don’t just play the whole (again the pun) damn thing. His voice definitely has more growl on the powerful parts. Following is the repeated, lovely “I Tried to Leave You.” And again, it’s a long version, as Cohen introduced the band as each member plays a solo.

The final cut is “Democracy,” from The Future. This is a sarcastically timely song at the moment, especially since his death the day before the American election, as the line “Democracy is coming to the USA.” We can only hope that it will return soon, but I digress. This is one of the more powerful songs from his later period, in my opinion, so it is a good choice to close out the collection.

Leonard Cohen is sorely missed. I can honestly say that we own every one of his records (in various forms), though there are some I know better than others. If you are curious to know what you are missing, this is a nice collection through his work (well, until 1992, or course) to give you some idea of why he is mourned so deeply by so many. His death has definitely been a crack in our musical history, but a DVD like this is how the light gets in. RIP, Leonard, and thank you.

1985 Set List:

Memories

Heart With No Companion

Story of Isaac

I Tried to Leave You

1988 Set List:

First We Take Manhattan

Joan of Arc

I’m Your Man

Ain’t No Cure For Love (excerpt)

Chelsea Hotel #2

Hallelujah

Tower of Song

Take This Waltz

1993 Set List:

Closing Time

Sisters of Mercy

I Can’t Forget

Hallelujah

I Tried to Leave You

Democracy

From the 1988 set in Norway:

Women of Comedy: My Jokes are Up Here! Tour, Broadway Theatre, Saskatoon: March 7, 2016

Text and photos (c) Robert Barry Francos

The  day after the show, March 8, would be International Women's Day, so the My Jokes are Up Here tour that features three Canadian comics put on a fundraiser show for the local YWCA Saskatoon (where I work): Christina Walkinshaw, Jen Grant, and Erica Sigurdson.

I've been a fan of stand-up for as long as I can remember. It may have started when someone gave me the early Jackie Mason I'm The Greatest Comedian In The World Only Nobody Knows It Yet album, or perhaps it was George Carlin's infamous groundbreaking AM and; FM. Then again, it could have been my very early (5 years old) crush on Shari Lewis. Who knows, but I've enjoyed the art form for nearly as long as I can remember. Funny thing is, I haven't seen much of it from an audience, but lots on television, Netflix, and rentals.

The women this night were on fire, and I'm sure it was not just because they were recording it for an album. I may be on it indirectly, as they mentioned "the guy taking photographs." I didn't use a flash, as I know that can be distracting, so the pix tend to be a bit on the fuzzy side; at the end of the show, though, they all posed for me, and I'm proud of that one (at the very bottom here, and yes I used a flash on that one).

Yeah, they were hilarious, and it was a great night.

Christina Walkinshaw

Jen Grant

Erica Sigurdson

Final bows

Posing for my camera

Review: 50 Years with Peter Paul and Mary

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2017

Images from the Internet

50 Years with Peter Paul and Mary

Directed by Jim Brown

Pop Twist / MVD Visual

78 minutes, 2014 / 2016

www.peterpaulandmary.com

www.mvdvisual.com

Most people I know who arrived at the punk movement came from either a rock (MC5, Stooges, KISS) or artistic (Velvet Underground) music background. For me it was different than most, as I approached from a folkie background (influenced in large part by my cousin Marc when I stayed Summer weeks with my Aunt Elsie and Uncle Al; also the summer camp I attended in the 1960s was an anti-war folk bastion), from the harsher Phil Ochs to the mellower Peter, Paul and Mary. If you think about it – and I’m not the only one who made this observation, though I came to it on my own – punk is ‘60s folk that is just “faster and louder,” as the Dictators might have put it. They are both guitar-based, minimalist, and often had a sharp, politically honed-edge. For example, take Stiff Little Fingers’ “I Don’t Like You” and compare it to Dylan’s “Positively Fourth Street.” Or Towns van Zandt’s “Waitin’ Round to Die” and the Heartbreakers’ (or Ramones’) “Chinese Rocks.”

That being said, I still retain my folkie roots, as do a lot of punkers; ever notice how many hardcore singers have come out with singer-songwriter-style solo efforts? I would argue that Johnny Thunders’ “You Can’t Put Your Arms Around a Memory” is a great folk tune.

I’ve never seen Peter, Paul and Mary (PPM) perform live. However, I did see Mary Travers twice at the Bottom Line in a very short time span in the early ‘70s when she was promoting her solo LPs, and a private performance by Peter Yarrow at/for the Anti-Defamation League (ADL) in the late-1990s.

This documentary has been airing on PBS during fundraising periods since it was released, and is a huge draw. I kept missing most of it (due to its lengthy interruptions thanks to the GW Bush administration’s financial raping of the NEA funding, which the present “administration” promises to annihilate…but I sadly digress…), so as  I’ve seen bits of it here and there, I was so happy to be able to finally see it in its entirely.

Just as Judy Collins was a major contributing factor for the success of Leonard Cohen (d. 2016) by covering his music such as “Suzanne” before he was famous, PPM did the same for Dylan by doing his “Blowin’ in the Wind” and “The Times They are A-Changin’,” among others of Bobby’s works.

The documentary makes quick work of their origins, which happened thanks in large part to their future manager, Albert Grossman (d. 1986), matching them up in the early Greenwich Village folk scene. But Yarrow correctly comments that when they all got together, it was not only a unification of harmony, but each voice stands out on its own personality (as I would posit was equally true of the Mamas and the Papas). This is evidenced in a clip of them performing an incredibly rousing “If I Had My Way,” shortly after the release of their eponymous first album, which went to Number 1 on the folk charts, and hovered around the Top-Ten for the following three years.

After their first three albums, there came a shift in the group that was a cognitive dissonance, or more accurately an awakening of consciousness. Much like Dylan’s pivot at the Newport Folk Festival in 1965 when he went electric, for PPM it was performing at the Civil Rights March on Washington where they performed “Blowin’ in the Wind.” In present culture, they may have been seen as white interlopers on a black movement, but they were accepted then as the march needed to be an inclusive one at that point in time, which changed their direction to social activism, affecting every aspect of the group. Sure, some of it was there already, as it was throughout the folk scene, but it went from part of their sound to the focus (or locus) of it.

This is an unusual documentary in its approach to the subject(s). First of all, with the exception of some background on Mary pre-PPM, there isn’t much about their backstory, or again, even much attention on their formation, for two reasons: first of all, it’s what they accomplished that’s more important than how they first laid their eyes on each other. Yarrows succinct definition of their earliest period in an interview from that time (to which I referred earlier) is all that’s really needed to be said. Also, due to time constraints, this film would either have to sacrifice a bit of story or the music, and I’m grateful they picked to include the music instead.

This brings me to the next point, which is the music, of course. What we get to see are not merely snippets, but rather either most of or all of the songs presented. Occasionally there would be some talking over the instrumental parts, but all the dialog is by the participants, not a narrator. Even though Mary died in 2009, there is a large body of interviews with her on which to draw, so she is well represented. The part of this film that shows her musical memorial is very touching, and one of the guest speakers, Whoopi Goldberg gives a nice and accurate nod to the way she sang, and embodied each lyric.

Most of those interviewed, other than the trio in focus, are the wives (one an ex-), adult kids, and some people who have worked with them, including managers. Even Gloria Steinem makes some pointed notes about how important Mary was as a role model to the folk scene, and even writ large.

The extras are captioning, and five full songs taken from various times in their career.

Not discussed in the film, I have always felt that Peter was the righteous side (he created an anti-bullying campaign this is now worldwide), Paul was the spiritual one (he and his wife travel and sing Christian devotional songs), and Mary was the heart, being the main focus of the group (which is mentioned) because of her sincerity to what she was doing.

                                  

My only regret is that the filmmakers didn’t include one of their best later tunes, “Light One Candle” (which happily can be found on YouTube), and if that’s the only negative that crosses my mind, well, that speaks volumes on how I found this to be an excellent documentary, with a glorious mix of interviews, history, and music.

Review: Sad Vacation: The Last Days of Sid and Nancy

Text © Robert Barry Francos / FFanzeen, 2017

Images from the Internet

Sad Vacation: The Last Days of Sid and Nancy

Directed by Danny Garcia                  

Chip Baker Films / MVD Visual

94 minutes, 2016

www.chipbakerfilms.com

www.mvdvisual.com

I’ve certainly been in the same room with Sid and Nancy, especially the latter considering the sheer number of times I’ve seen the Heartbreakers, her band of choice before latching onto Sid. But my strongest connected and contributing memory is coming home from a show (if I remember correctly, the bands were The Fast and Crayola) in the late 70s, after the break-up of the Sex Pistols and before Nancy’s death, and seeing an inebriated and stumbling Sid kicking a guy passed out on the sidewalk on 8th Street, between McDougall and Sixth (Ave of the Americas, to those who don’t know better). Needless to say, I walked on, without talking to him. About a year later, he and Nancy were legends and newspaper fodder.

It makes sense that this documentary was made by the same people/director as the excellent Looking for Johnny: The Legend of Johnny Thunders [reviewed HERE], because Thunders and his band the Heartbreakers were a key catalyst in the lives of Sid and Nancy. Y’see, Nancy Spungen was a Heartbreakers’ friendemy/groupie who joined in with the band in its proclivity for hard drugs. These bits of fact, mentioned as raindrops at the beginning, including the elements of the Heartbreakers going to London to tour with the Sex Pistols, thereby opening up an opportunity for Nancy to go to the UK to get herself a Sex Pistol (much in the way the story goes that Linda Eastman did the same with the Beatles, and ended up with Paul).

There is a bit of irony in the whole story of the Pistols and Heartbreakers, as the Pistols famously wrote a derogatory song about the Heartbreakers (or New York Dolls, depending on how you read the lyrics) in a song called “New York” (“You're just a pile of shit / You're coming to this / You poor little faggot / You're sealed with a kiss”) to which the Heartbreakers responded with their own “London Boys” (“You're telling me 'shut your mouth' / If I wasn't kissing, you wouldn't be around / You talk about faggots, little momma's boy / You sit at home, you got a chaperon / You need an escort to take a piss”); you didn’t think in-song insults started with rappers, did you? After all that, Thunders and Vicious became good buds at some point.

The introduction of these elements led to a drug shitstorm that would rock the music scene as the Heartbreakers (and Nancy) introduced the use of heroin to Punk’s British Second Wave. Nancy, of course, latched herself onto Sid, but with all the tenuousness of the violence and mind/physical altering substances of their relationship, it’s hard to argue that they loved/needed/were dependent on each other (much as Linda and Paul were an actual couple beyond how they met). With Nancy holding the needle and the dime, she brought Sid into a world he may never have explored (though that is debated in the film), and eventually to New York.

As the film demonstrates through a large number of oral history interviews with varying memories and opinions about what would happen between the death of Nancy and that of Sid on Feb 3, 1979 (exactly 20 years after the crash that took the life of Buddy Holly, Richie Valens and J.P. The Big Bopper Richardson). The general consensus seems to be that Sid could be a sweetheart or a terror, depending on the day or what was flowing through his system, but Nancy was just a horrendous human due to mental problems, substance abuse, and a “whiney” voice that could shatter glass. Her mom, Deborah, tried to explain it in a defensive and angry, self-serving auto/biography, And I Don’t Want to Live This Life (the book goes unmentioned, and Debbie is only brought up once).

To get down to the nitty-gritty, the film is extremely well put together with a very limited budget. I have always enjoyed different theories types of documentaries, that doesn’t try to come any real conclusion by itself, or have an answer in mind, and that uses the interviews to support ideas, rather than coming to one on its own. While one of the two trailers included in the extras claims it does, I’m happy to say it doesn’t really. However, it does posit a bunch of credible theories and lets the viewers come to its own possible choice of solution. The latter part of the film sometimes feels more like a murder mystery than a narrative, which I feel is a plus.

There are so many people from the period present, especially in the New York Scene of the 1970s, from fans to musicians, that experienced the Sid/Nancy phenomenon first-hand. Some include Walter Lure, Rockets Redglare, Cynthia Ross, Donna Destri, Lenny Kaye, Andy (Adny) Shernoff, photographer Bob Gruen (who went on the bus with the Pistols for their US tour), the late-great Leee Black Childers (who owned a leather jacket back then I truly envied), Howie Pyro (of The Blessed and D Generation, and who infamously snorted some of Sid’s ashes), Hellin Killer (who was with him the night Sid died), Sylvain Sylvain, and so many others. It also includes the one person I really wanted to hear, which was “Neon” Leon Matthews, a musician and fellow Chelsea Hotel resident that disappeared for a number of years after Sid died (only to resurface decades later in Europe). For a long time it was believed he held the key to the answer to what happened that night, and I am really grateful to be able to hear his side of that night.

Wisely, the interviews are intercut and short, so no one story goes on long enough to become burdensome to anyone who doesn’t really know these people talking about their affiliation to these two desperate and media-legendary victims. Also, the stories themselves are interesting and keep apace. Hearing the differences in opinion and events makes for conversations on what happened with the viewers going after the film ends. My only gripe is that the names are only shown the first time the talker is presented. I knew most of them, but the few I didn’t got lost on me as I heard more of their involvement. Also, it is a pleasure that everyone who talks had some direct action in the events, rather than hearing from journalists who report their indirect opinions on second-hand stories (as I hypocritically do at the end of the review).

As for the budget, well, it’s pretty easy to see the constraints, and I’m saying this as a positive considering the achievement and fascination of the film. For example, we see a B-roll of the Pistols playing live, and the Heartbreakers’ “All By Myself” is playing on the soundtrack. In fact, there is no Pistols music at all, and only a quick live snippet of Sid at Max’s; Sid’s “My Way” and “C’mon Everybody” is mentioned, just not heard. There are some pretty infamous clips though, including the drugged out Sid & Nancy in bed from the film D.O.A. (1980). The big head scratcher for me is that we don’t hear Johnny Thunders’ elegy for Sid, for which this film is named.

Other than the two trailers mentioned previously, there is also a Heartbreakers music video for “Take a Chance” that is linked to the film through clips. But the standout for me is the 18-minute extra of interviews. There are five, and it was right to take them out of the film due to their length and as they don’t really contribute to the story; however they were among my favorite anecdotes, especially the one by Donna Destri. Definitely watch it all of this extra all the way through. And did I mention the DVD comes with a free film poster?

So, yeah, the director/producers certainly achieved what they set out to do, and it makes sense that they preceded this with one about Thunders. I’m really looking forward to what’s next (I’m hoping one about Stiv Bators of the Dead Boys, though I haven’t heard anything about it).

And, for what it’s worth, here is the version of the story as I heard it at the time, though I can vouch for none of the validity: Sid and Nancy were expecting to have a big drug deal go down, and so they gave much of their valuables to friends for safeguarding; Johnny got Sid’s jacket, which he wore from then on, in good faith (i.e., he never sold it for, well, let’s say rent). The drug dealer gave them samples, enough to knock out Sid, and then made a move on Nancy; she rejected him, and he stabbed her. When Sid found out what happened, he felt guilty that he had passed out, and then left her to go to his methadone appointment in the morning, saying to the police, “I killed her,” meaning he didn’t protect her. The cops heard it as a confession (parts of this are echoed in the film).

Who know what would have happened if Sid had cleaned up. Would he be famous rather than infamous? Ponderous thoughts.

Women's March on Washington Solidarity March in Saskatoon, January 21, 2017

Text and Images (c) Robert Barry Francos

Shortly after I moved to Saskatoon from Brooklyn in 2009, I was involved in a march against George Bush Jr. speaking at a local engagement. Now, I found myself once again into the fray in a solidarity march against the anti-women policies of Donald Trump and his administration.

It was expected to be about 200 people meeting at 10 AM on a cold Saturday morning at City Hall, but the number has been estimated anywhere from 500 to more than 800. It was a positive experience (unlike Bush, for which the march felt angry) which signs and speakers, but very little Hey Hey Ho Ho chanting. Yet we were all stout of purpose.

Organized by Karen Brander and Alice de Cloedt, the speakers included First Nations elder Marjorie Beaucage, City Councillors Danielle Chartier and Hilary Gough, and Women's and Gender Studies professor (recently from Chile), Manuela Valle-Castro. They roused the crowd who then set off on a mile or so march through downtown Saskatoon. For those interested, down 4 Ave S., right onto 19 St, and then right to go up 3 Ave S, and back to City Hall, where the parade broke up just after 11:30 or so. Some petered off at the end, others met back in the park in camaraderie.

I had the honor to be a marshal along the route (you can see me in my red vest at :37 HERE).

Co-organizer Alice de Cloedt in the center.

Marshaling the marshals.

Matching, kinda-sorta

Amateur and pro...

Matching cat hats

Would lead the march

Speakers gather

Two good friends I went on a road trip to Yellowknife with a few years back

Dressed like a pussy-cat.

 First Nations elder Marjorie Beaucage leads off the rally

City Councillor Danielle Chartier

Marshals waiting to marshal

Friend and photographer par excellent Aloy Fleishmann posing i foreground

Alice did the speaker introductions

First-term City Councillor Hilary Gough

Professor Manuela Valle-Castro

Marjorie leads the group in a First Nations' song.

The March begins

Happily, it was widely covered by the media

Passing City Hall near the end of the March

Group shot of front-line marchers!

Brilliant umbrella (her idea)

Favorite sign

Networking

Closing it down