It also was incredibly hot that day, so despite how nice the downtown area was, air conditioning was something we desperately needed, so we ended up having supper at a very nice Italian place called Mondo Resto-Bar. Later we sought out a music store so I could actually purchase an André Gagnon CD in Québec. That was something I’d been wanting to do right from the start.

As with Québec City itself, we only spent a couple of hours in Trois-Rivières, but the city has a charm all its own, and I’d like to get back there some day and spend a bit more time. I also want to get to Les Forges de Saint-Maurice National Historic Site, which is about a dozen clicks northwest of downtown. It’s a site run by Parks Canada that commemorates the founding of the first industrial community in North America.

It also happens to be one of my André-Gagnon-related destinations.

In 1973, André Gagnon released an unusual album. It was actually two albums in one. Side One was called Projection and Side Two was called Les forges de Saint-Maurice. The first side was a collection of songs as might appear on any album. The second side contained music he had written for a television series entitled—you guessed it—Les forges de Saint-Maurice.

The show ran from 1972 to 1975 on CBC’s French network. It was a soap-opera-like drama set in the mid-1700s, in and around the ironworks, which were the most advanced of their time. Gagnon wrote the theme music and incidental music for the series.

And speaking of André Gagnon music, we did, in fact, find a music store in Trois-Rivières. They have an Archambault there, which is a big chain in Québec, kinda like an HMV with a Chapters welded to the side and a Long and McQuade perched on top. Nice store. Lotsa great stuff.

Only one André Gagnon CD, though. Fortunately, it was his latest, which I did not yet possess. So I bought it.

Now, being the giant fan of this man’s music that I am, I still find it hard to understand why I did not yet have this CD, considering that it had been out for over a year. I’d been thinking of buying it, intending to buy it, and wanting to buy it for quite some time. Still, I had not yet laid down the cash. I can only attribute it to the fact that I hardly buy CDs at all anymore.

No, I am not one of the legion of iTunes junkies out there. I still can’t get my head around paying money for something that I can’t hold in my hand (except for software, which is a whole ’nother thing). When it comes to movies and music, I like to own the disk and the package it comes in.

Call me old fashioned, I guess. Don’t get me wrong. I have an iTunes account. I have purchased apps from the app store. That’s really the only way you can get them. But it’s going to take some real coaxing for me to put a song or an album on my credit card for download. It might happen some day. But not today.

Anyway, it’s all about timing. It was the right time for me to purchase that particular CD, entitled Les chemins ombragés, or Shady Paths in English. (Typographical note: The French language does not capitalize every word in a title, just the first word, unless there are proper names in it.) Examining the back of the CD package, I saw immediately how timely this purchase was, as some of the tracks were recorded with the Trois-Rivières Symphony Orchestra.

Weird. Just weird.

And that was basically the end of the trip. We booted it north after my CD purchase and ended up staying the night in Rivière-du-Loup again, which was nicely parenthetical. The following day we hurtled through the open spaces of New Brunswick, stopping for a nice lunch in Fredericton, and headed home to Halifax.

It was an awesome trip, and I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I took some great video shots, got the lay of the land, and basically prepped myself for further forays into the landscape and culture of Québec. It was a reconnaissance mission (nice French word, that), and I have a better understanding of where things are and what I still need in terms of video.

But I’m not quite finished with the André Gagnon portion of our programme. I didn’t bother taking the cellophane off my CD purchase until I was home in Halifax. We were playing my iPod through the car stereo during the trip anyway, so there was really no need to stick a CD in. When I finally did open the package, I found an extra card along with the standard CD insert. This card listed ten concert dates in locations throughout Québec.

I was stunned. Monsieur Gagnon was touring again. Sadly, the dates listed on the card had long since passed, but there was a link to a website, AndréGagnon.net. And on the website were listed more tour dates, some of which had not yet arrived.

Thrilled and amazed, I booked two tickets.

So, of course, there’s more to the story.

Stay tuned.

(Here’s a promo spot for the television series Les Forges de Saint-Maurice. I don’t know what they’re saying, but it all looks pretty cheesy. As you can tell from the logo on the screen, this is from a retro French network, rather like our TV-Tropolis.)

The plan was simple: drive to Montréal, stopping at various André-Gagnon-related points along the way and taking video footage of attractive and interesting scenes. I had the camera, the tripod, a big-ass SD card loaded, and I was ready to rock and roll. I also had my new iPod touch and was psyched to do some on-the-road video blogging.

Well, you know what they say: The best laid plans… and all that.

Don’t get me wrong. It was a fantastic trip. It just didn’t turn out quite the way I expected.

First off, we had to rent a car, which was prohibitively expensive. Scott, my brother, took care of that arrangement, and we got a great vehicle, but adding the extra kilometers onto the base rental meant that we could only afford it for three days. So, we had to pack in as much as we could.

Secondly, having not been through Québec in some years, I had only a vague recollection of how far the cities and towns were from each other. You can definitely drive to Montréal in a day, but you’re not going to make many stops en route.

I wanted to make some stops along the way.

Ergo, we did not make it to Montréal.

Add to this the fact that I, as navigator, misread my map of New Brunswick and got us on the wrong road for a couple of hours, and you end up with a very late arrival at the Québec border.

Question for later: How in hell do you misread a map of New Brunswick?

Anyway, none of this matters. Scott and I both needed to get away for a bit, and it was a great opportunity to spend some quality brother-bonding time. Changing plans and destinations were ultimately immaterial.

We left Halifax on my birthday, Wednesday August 3rd, and made it to Rivière-du-Loup (Wolf River, if you’re into translating place names), which is just over ninety-clicks from the New Brunswick/Québec border, at the point where the Trans-Canada highway takes a sharp left and starts running along the Saint Lawrence River.

The original LP cover of “Le Saint-Laurent”

Ah, the Saint Lawrence. I was so looking forward to taking in its majesty. It has played such a pivotal role in my experience of André Gagnon’s music that I could scarcely dissociate the two. His 1977 album, Le Saint-Laurent, is easily my favorite of his works, and the title track, a twelve-minute ode to the mighty river, is a three-movement piece that conjures up images of flowing water and stunning scenery and has stayed with me since my first hearing.

The morning of August 4th, we awoke, breakfasted and set off. I was presented with many amazing glimpses of the Saint Lawrence, and for some of those, we were able to pull over so that I could take some video shots. In the distance, across the river, were the mountains of Charlevoix, in a view right off the cover of Le Saint-Laurent. It was a region I hoped to visit soon. It would not happen this trip, but that was okay. We only had three days.

One important stop we did make was at Saint-Pacôme, the town where André Gagnon was born. It’s a small, quiet place, and as with many rural communities, the church is the most prominent landmark. We stopped near the town’s main intersection, and I took a few video shots, but, alas, we really didn’t have time to explore much, so we drove around a bit and then headed back to the highway.

I didn’t even notice the historical signs for the tourists.

(And that, dear friends, is called foreshadowing.)

We made it to Québec City by lunchtime, and I cannot begin to tell you how glad I am that we made that stop. It was not on my itinerary, but we knew by this point that we were not going to make to Montréal, so we decided to stop, have lunch, and take a look around.

I hadn’t been to Québec City since high school, when I went on a Grade Ten trip in February for Carnaval. All I remember from that trip is the dizzying height of the fortress cliff, the insanely cold temperatures, and people on the street drinking alcohol from long plastic tubes. Needless to say, I needed a refresher.

Old Québec is simply stunning. I fell in love immediately, and vowed to return at my earliest convenience. I walked around with my head craned upwards, marvelling at the architecture, the views, and the atmosphere. It was like wandering around an old European city.

We had lunch at a place called La Pizz, a nifty little pizza place tucked into the corner of Place Royale, which is, not to put too fine a point on it, the birthplace of French civilization in North America. Samuel de Champlain began constructing this courtyard area in 1608, and walking into it is like stepping back in time.

And then there was the Château Frontenac, easily the most photographed hotel in the world. It sits atop the fortified cliff and is visible from just about anywhere in the old city. We walked along some of the charming shop-filled streets in the lower city before taking the funicular up to the courtyard around the château. The view from up there is incredible, and the hotel itself is massive, tall, imposing, and utterly photogenic.

It was a shame we could only stay a couple of hours, but we wanted to see how far south we could get before having to turn around and head for home.

While Québec City was not an André-Gagnon-related stop, it reached into my soul and deepened my connection with La Belle Province, a connection I’ve been aware of most of my life.

A connection with my father.

More about this trip in the next instalment. Stay tuned.

With yet another gaping chasm in my blogging pattern now evident, this time due to a bout of procrastination brought on by simple forgetfulness paired with a massive viral infection, I’ve decided to abandon the post I’d been considering—which was to be a heartfelt rant about the establishment inspired by a fascinating if abbreviated experience at PodCamp Halifax—and turn my typing fingers to a touch of time-traveling. Musical time traveling.

It’s something I enjoy doing. When I’m not constructing lengthy, single-sentence paragraphs.

I’m currently revisiting the early albums of Chicago, my favorite band. Their career has been an interesting one, to say the least. Many people can’t stand them. They’ve certainly had their sour moments, but I’m sticking with them. They’re amazing musicians all, and they’ve produced some incredible music over the years.

I discovered the band when I was eighteen. The timing was pretty bad on that, actually, because they’d been around for nearly ten years already, and they’d just lost their guitarist—to a fatal, accidental gunshot wound. Hell of a time to become a fan.

I’d been aware of Chicago, of course. Their songs were on the radio pretty regularly, and I was familiar with many of them, but I didn’t know much about the band, it’s members, or it’s history. They were just part of the sonic landscape of the time, and I didn’t really pay much attention to them other than to note that I liked this or that particular song.

All that changed the week of October 16th, 1978. Chicago was featured on the cover of People Magazine, and not only did the world get a good look at the faces behind the music (their album covers are famous for not showing the band members, just their elegant logo); we also got to read about the tumultuous events of nine months earlier, when Terry Kath accidentally shot himself, and about the band in general, how they came into being, and how they were trying to keep it together in the face of tragedy and grief.

I was intrigued. I knew some of their music, and I liked it. To put names and faces to the voices and instuments was nothing short of a revelation, and the incredible drama of the story caught me up. I decided, immediately upon finishing the article, that I was going to delve deeper into this band and really find out what they were all about.

Their new album at the time, entitled Hot Streets, had just come out. It was a departure for the band in a myriad of ways. First off, despite the fact that they were still dealing with Terry’s death, they needed a new guitarist, and after many auditions, they hired Donnie Dacus, who had just recently worked on several projects with Stephen Stills. Secondly, they had fired their longtime producer, James William Guercio—who had guided them from the very beginning but had become overly controlling—and had brought in Phil Ramone, who was well known as producer of many of Billy Joel’s albums. Third, they had decided to actually name the new album instead of numbering it. Fourthly, but by no means finally, a photograph of the band is featured on the album sleeve, with the venerable logo taking a secondary position.

Even knowing all this, I decided not to purchase the new album right away. I instinctively made the decision to experience the group as it had been before I listened to their reworked lineup. I intended to purchase all eleven of their previous albums before completing the set with the twelfth. I was oddly energized and excited by this prospect, and I found I suddenly had a mission: Catch up on Chicago.

I don’t know what it was that inspired me, but I was instantly fascinated by the group, and soon I was venturing out to purchase not one, but two of their albums. Yes, two LPs. In the same trip to the record store. This was highly uncharacteristic behavior. Let’s face it, despite my having heard some of their songs on the radio, this was essentially a new band for me. To buy two LPs, sound unheard, was nearly unthinkable. But I did just that. I purchased Chicago X (the chocolate bar cover) and Chicago XI (the map cover) and gobbled them up.

I’ve always loved interesting combinations of musical instruments. In the previous incarnation of this blog, I wrote a post about the Alan Parsons Project, a group that combined rock instrumentation with a full orchestra. I also enjoy artists like Mary Jane Lamond, who combine traditional Celtic instrumentation with modern guitar, bass, and drums. So it is with Chicago, a rock band with a horn section. Their influences range from jazz to classical and back again. The founding members of Chicago, the horn players especially, are all classically trained musicians who studied their instruments in a university setting. Their musicianship is top-notch, and their creative talent abundant and prolific.

I caught up with Chicago in a very short time. I did suffer a bit of confusion with regard to Chicago IV, however. I basically couldn’t find out anything about it. I kept seeing references to a box set of four LPs entitled Chicago at Carnegie Hall, but I could not find out anything about Chicago IV. What I finally realized—and it took me a ridiculously long time to finally get it through my head—was that the Carnegie Hall set was the fourth album. It wasn’t a separate entity set apart from the others. It was part of the sequence. That bit of stupidity dealt with, I completed my set and went on to purchase Hot Streets.

I’ve been a loyal fan of the group ever since. They’ve put out some great stuff and some not-so-great stuff, but schmalzy lyrics and power ballads notwithstanding, I’ve always loved the musicianship, and I’ve always loved the horns. And looking back to the early albums over these last few days has been a real treat.

Hard to believe the original members are in their late sixties now.

Let’s keep it real out there.

(And here’s a live performance of one of Chicago’s signature tunes. I like this clip, because Robert Lamm introduces the rest of the band. This particular lineup was stable from 1995 to 2009.)