He believes the melting of the polar ice caps is the result of the earth’s natural cycles, and is not caused by man, as I had implied in the song. I tend to disagree, as would, I believe, his son Prince Charles, but I was not about to argue with the most special of all princes, who had always been so supportive of my music.
A year later, when I heard his friend Lord Monckton give a lecture at Moses Znaimer’s Idea City that attempted to debunk the concept of man’s role in climate change, I presumed to understand why Prince Philip took this stance. But one only has to look at the scientific facts and graphic images from space to see why I still believe that the two of them are profoundly misguided.
• • •
My next idea was to create a special piece dedicated to Quebec, where I had performed many concerts and where I had always found the people particularly responsive to my music. I remembered some of the rhythmic spoon playing I had heard from the rural lumberjacks at the country estate of Paul Desmarais and sat down one afternoon to capture the sound using the guitar “tambora” effect. I hoped my original music “À Mes Beaux Souvenirs” evoked the special spirit I had felt while in La Belle Province.
I decided to weave into it some nostalgic threads with the addition of two well-known children’s chansons, and I was delighted when the Toronto French School choir agreed to let Peter and me come and record them. Toward the end we auditioned some of the adorable little girls and chose one to sing the short solo fade out of “Au claire de la lune.”
The result was, I thought, a fitting tribute to a wonderful part of Canada. Although some Westerners might prefer it if Quebec were to leave Canada, since for decades some elements there have given the rest of Canada headaches with their séparatiste convictions, I believe that Quebec has enriched our country in immeasurable ways.
I have so many memories of the province — as a child emigrating to Canada I made a crayon drawing of the quaint rural towns I saw along the banks of the St. Lawrence River, a drawing that won me first prize in the ship’s art competition. I also remember the province’s great cities — Montreal and Quebec — and also its smaller ones, such as Sherbrooke and Trois Rivières, the place that helped launch my career when I took first prize for guitar in the Canadian Music Competition. I can recall those dusty little music study huts scattered in the woods at Jeunesses Musicales where I first studied with Maestro Alexandre Lagoya, the hum of fierce mosquitos, the beautiful countryside, and of course the summer lakes and trails through the Gatineau woods where Pierre Trudeau and I had sometimes romped with his three young sons and other times frolicked naked like carefree nymphs and satyrs.
With all of these happy memories in mind, I was anxious to record my musical tribute to Quebec. So I was particularly excited when, through a connection made thanks to my friend Naomi, Quebec heartthrob, Daniel Lavoie, agreed to sing a short melody for this new piece of mine. He also agreed to accompany me on the choruses of an autobiographical song I had written about Canada drawing me back home again after living so many years away. I gingerly asked if he might also consider contributing some spoken words in French at the end. Daniel has a most seductive voice, which conjured memories of my special boyfriend who ran Canada for almost two decades. Aware of my delight in languages, Pierre used to whisper sweet nothings en français during our intimate times together. I wasn’t sure Daniel would agree to speak the words, but thankfully he did and I think that even if a listener cannot understand one word of French, the message is clear. What a nerve I had! I more or less wrote myself a love letter from my store box of memories, and then asked the gorgeous singer and composer of “Ils s’aiment,” one of the hit songs of Quebec in the seventies, to record it for me!
I am pretty sure that my four French lovers — Alexandre Lagoya, Claude Emanuelli, Yves Chatelain, and Pierre Trudeau — must have listened to Daniel’s voice back then. But all have vanished from my life, two even from this earth. One had read me Le Petit Prince by candlelight, one had sung me Charles Trenet’s “La mer” while driving me in his “Deux Chevaux” through Provence, one had recited the poetry of Teilhard de Chardin and Baudelaire, and that first rogue had seduced me into losing my virginity at twenty-two by recounting his guitar career adventures in accented French tinged with Egyptian and Greek. Being the romantic that I am, I’m not sure which language I love more, Spanish or French, but to me there is nothing more seductive than one of those languages whispered sotto voce, and although I have never experienced it, in spite of seven trips to Venice, I’m pretty sure that for me Italian would be just as enticing, given the right setting!
Alors, merci, Daniel, for adding your singing and spoken voice to my two songs, and for making women swoon when you sing your French love songs that all of us can now see in videos thanks to the internet.
• • •
Another distinct region of Canada for which I have always had a strong nostalgic connection, even though I have never lived there, is the Maritimes and Newfoundland. From hiking the Cabot Trail to touring the provinces and staying in quaint bed and breakfasts in Nova Scotia, Prince Edward Island, and New Brunswick, to playing in fishing villages such as Grand Bank and even visiting the French island colonies of Saint Pierre and Miquelon, I have a special cache of memories associated with this beautiful part of Canada. For my tribute, I wrote an intro using a folky guitar pattern followed by a Celtic-flavoured original theme that led into a three-verse, spoken poetic section, beginning, “Barnacled boats rocking side by side, kissed by the mists and the briny tide, show me the way to return once more to that wind swept Maritime shore.” I called it “Maritimes Remembered,” and knew I would love performing this piece live in concert.
• • •
In addition to the music I was composing for my Canadiana album, I wrote a catchy chorus to a song my friend Lili Fournier had suggested be called “We Are the Women of the World.” I had never co-written a song before, but I decided to ask Joanne Perica if she would like to contribute since we had often talked about collaborating. Joanne came up with a lovely verse melody and the lyrics to verse one; I wrote the words for verse two and for a bridge melody she composed. Lili was delighted with the resulting song, an anthem for women’s rights that I hope will one day be used to inspire women around the world.
• • •
In March of 2012, after a couple of much-appreciated months back in sunny Palm Beach, Michael and I headed west for a concert tour of Alberta and British Columbia. It was a particular thrill for me when the legendary country singer Ian Tyson came to sit amid the audience in Turner Valley. I fondly remembered the songs he had recorded with his lovely wife, Sylvia, when they were a duo and famous for such country-folk classics as “Four Strong Winds.”
Michael and I continued our tour, playing a handful of dates in British Columbia, and on the return flight home I composed a song in waltz time called “Living My Life Alone.” It became one of our favourites and, as with my “Waltz Nostalgique,” listeners can probably detect the influence of Leonard Cohen’s “Take This Waltz” in the orchestration.
When my label first heard my lyrics, they were surprised that I had chosen to write so revealingly about my life, but I believe that as a songwriter honesty always produces the best lyrics.
When singing this song live, I often dedicate it to all the single people in the audience. After all, so many of us never expect to be living alone … not me, not my mother, nor my many divorced or widowed girlfriends, nor the single men I know who have also experienced deaths, separations, and losses as the years creep on.
So who would have thought that by this time
I’d still have no place to call home
Who would have thought that by this time
I’d be living my life alone
After all the romances and courtships and dances
I’d still have no love of my own
No it’s not what it seemed, not the way I had dreamed
To be living my life alone
• • •
Finding the right partner presents a challenge at any age. My