Trudeau went on his long walk in snowy Montreal to decide on
his political future. He returned resolved to leave public office.
Bob Gainey, the Habs’ general manager, invited a floundering Alex
Kovalev on a summer stroll in the city following the star’s bum season
in 2006-07. The Russian forward returned to form, for awhile at
least.
Montreal, the grande dame of cities in North America, is that
kind of place, where walks can take on mythological status.
Pop pianist-vocalist Mike Evin is following that contemplative path.
On his outings, he’s reacquainting with his hometown of Montreal, where
he moved back from Halifax this past winter. At the same time, walking
is helping him rediscover his joy of making music.
That feeling waned, he says, following completion of Good
Watermelon, his third album. It’s hard to imagine Evin losing his
sight of and sense for music’s positive power, given the 30-year-old’s
striding piano, his gift for upbeat mood and melody, his energetic and
smiley vocals, sharp wit and his optimistic, playful observations on
Good Watermelon.
But it happened. He’s not “all positive all the time, just very
light.
“I got into this huge rut, just trying to figure out what to do with
it,” Evin admits, going on to say that even before he started recording
the album more than a year ago in Montreal, he “built it up” in his
mind as “the record. And I got discouraged pretty quickly.”
In part that came from shopping the album around to a variety of
labels and hearing only passing interest. The discouragement eventually
turned into a deeper, entrenched low. “There was some depression in
there,” Evin says.
The roots of the problem were present in the way he’s lived his life
and worked at his craft, according to the artist. “I haven’t been able
to live in the moment fully,” Evin explains. “I’ve been focused on
where else I should be or what else I should be doing.” He’s changed
his thinking in part by returning to Montreal and “going for walks,
getting into random places. Last night I just went for a long walk
along [Rue] Jean Talon, from my house” in Côte des Neiges, which
he describes as “somewhat removed but very multicultural.” (Evin grew
up in Hampstead, “a Jewish suburb. It’s very sheltered.”)
On that walk, Evin crossed intersections of cultures. “It makes you
excited about the world,” he observes. Though he hasn’t travelled much
or that far, he knows he will. He doesn’t worry about when or where for
now.
Walking has taught Evin patience, openness, calm. These journeys,
“just these random walks,” he calls them, unfold without a plan or
destination in mind. “We shouldn’t think about that kind of stuff so
much. It’s easy to think about that stuff and obsess about it. And you
just miss out on where you’re at, at the present moment,” he says.
Evin reached a point of exhaustion trying to orchestrate his music
career, his success. He turned to other sources, besides the walks,
such as reading Julia Cameron’s book, The Artist’s Way. Through
that, Evin is “learning to enjoy the process and not being so focused
on the product.”
With that in mind, he’s posting videos of himself playing new songs
on YouTube (calling them Mike Evin’s Workshops). He’s performing them
in single takes, avoiding the intense evaluation and editing that, in
the past, had led to some protracted periods of writer’s block.
He cancelled most of this summer’s tour plans, letting his fans know
via his blog. Fans responded, he says, with support and stories of
losing and finding their way. Though the decision didn’t come without
due consideration, he’s happy he did it and to be returning to Halifax,
where, for the first time he says, he experienced “being part of
something.”
Mike Evin’s Workshop #2, “Alive and Well”
Mike Evin Good Watermelon release show
w/The Heavy Blinkers Ensemble (feat. Jenn Grant), Wednesday, May 27 at
The Company House, 2202 Gottingen, 8pm, $7adv./$10 door.
This article appears in May 21-27, 2009.
