#classic ubc
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My sweet boy ☆—
Request: 🐞Warren gets his first girlfriend and Honey gets emotional cause her baby is growing up.
Picture this!! Warren x Black Cat character
Au Masterlist!!
Growing up Warren was always a shy boy.
He was popular in the sense that he was extremely talented in his sport, the one that his father and uncles were also stars in, and the one that had news outlets buzzing about him and the generational talent they claimed him to be.
But no news article or tabloid would ever capture just how humble and timid he was.
So when Warren Hughes eventually brought home a girl, everyone within the Hughes' family and friends was shocked.
The girl in question was Marissa, who happened to be so far away from Warren's usual world, but she was perfect for him.
She held little to no knowledge about the hockey world, which was something Warren almost preferred, no pressure, no expectation, just her poetry books and detective fiction.
Her mother was a professor at UBC, head of the English facility, specializing in nineteenth-century literature, leading Marissa to her love of Poe's work.
And she, well she was just some literature junkie who craved a fiction-like love.
which she received from one of the purest hearts in her lifetime.
Marissa had always been the pinnacle of his desires, he'd be lying if he said that he hadn't pined after her for the better half of middle school and high school.
Something about her awkwardly blunt demeanour, and warm smile made him forget his name, made him forget the entire English language in fact.
Warren asked her out in their shared bio class, his face a very cute shade of pink as he stuttered about wanting to take her out for coffee.
Her eyes went wide at his invitation, she was weird, she was deliberately known as the weird girl in their graduating class so to Marissa she was either living a dream or he was trying to set her up for some sick joke.
If you had told her within the next month she would've fallen absolutely head over heels for him, she would've said that you were lying, but it was true. Warren Hughes, the infamous hockey himbo, was the easiest person to fall in love with.
In the span of the first month, she had met his family, kissed him at the fair, and somehow convinced him to try reading classics.
He prom-proposed to her in April of that year, nothing spectacular just a bouquet of tulips and a few shared kisses as they drove around the coast of Vancouver in her mom's car.
Warren was her passenger Princess, and she was the keeper of his heart, it was perfect in the ways that they were total opposites but so right for each other all at the same time.
It was like from pen to paper, and then to real life, a portrayal of the purest fictional love.
Honey loved Marissa, she was always respectful, and a pleasant guest in the house, but most importantly she had brought a little more love into Warren's life.
It had been his draft year, and just like most boys who have the spotlight turned on them, Warren was seemingly losing a sense of his being within the media and the articles.
But Marissa changed that, and Honey quite literally loved her for that.
The woman stood in the living room, tears in her eyes as she fixed her son's tie, “it's almost as if you do this for every game day,” she teased as her hands flattened out the collar of his dress shirt.
“I said I could do it, just want it to be perfect,” he mumbled as she smiled, her hands cupping her son's face as she scrunched up his face.
"for my health, please stop growing," she said, voice growing weaker as the tears started, Quinn and Hayden came into the room, all dressed up and ready for the picture portion of the night.
"When did Marissa's family say that they would be here?" Quinn asked as Honey found her at her husband's side, trying to dry her tears as she watched her once baby fix his styled hair.
He looked down at his phone, "They should be here any minute," he shrugged before a quiet knock on the door made him freeze, cheeks blazing red as the anxiety of prom night kicked in.
Honey opened the door with a beaming smile, "perfect timing!" she said pulling Marissa's mother into a hug as she ushered the young girl's family into the house.
Marissa looked beautiful, there were far better words to put just how good she looked, but Warren couldn't think of a single one.
She wore a pale yellow dress, lace and tool decorating the skirt and shaping her hips, showing just enough cleavage to seem modest but still teasing what she had.
Her hair fell so perfectly just above her shoulder, bangs styled the usual way but were accentuated with the metal headband she wore, little stars forming a crown on her head as she smiled at her boyfriend whose face lit up like a candle.
"Hi," she whispered from the other side of the door frame, Warren's body blocking her from entering the house, stuck in an anxious trance that made her stomach roll with nerves, "you okay?"
He shook his head, riding himself off the dazed expression and smiling shyly, "You look perfect," he mumbled making her smirk.
"Don't look so bad yourself handsome," she said with some more confidence, raising up on her tiptoes to press and gloss-covered kiss to his cheek, making his face blush a much deeper red.
He took her by the hand and led her into the living room where the two families waited for them.
A gasp left Honey's lips as she saw them both, tears in her eyes as she watched Warren spin the girl around, his cheeks rosy and face broken out into a grin as his girlfriend hugged herself closer to his side.
The two of them grew anxious under their families' stares as both dads tried to hurry up the picture taking process and getting 'the show on the road, so they could be early for the grand march portion of the night.
"Quinn," Honey whispered through her smile, "look how happy our baby is, let him have a moment," she said quietly before pressing a kiss to her husband's cheek.
"Remember when we were that young," he grinned thinking back to their prom when Honey spent months being mad at him.
Even though they weren't together at the time, he'd promised to take her to prom if neither of them were in relationships, the time came and he never asked, just assuming they were going together. She spent weeks mad that he had forgotten about her, until the night before when he asked what time she wanted to be picked up.
"Yeah when you forgot to ask me to prom," she laughed as his lips formed a straight line.
"I wasn't the brightest," he shrugged making his wife laugh, thinking about the very couple-looking prom photos that hung in her living room for years, constant teasing from their sibling about how in love they looked even with the lack of established relationship.
They took photos out by the trees in their front yards, tiny pink petals blossoming on the branches as each family took photos with their respective child and then the two of them taking photos together.
Honey held it together for all of her photos and broke the moment Warren dipped Marissa as she placed a kiss on his cheek for a photo.
Her hand covered her mouth to muffle her cries as she leaned against Quinn, "thought you said you weren't gonna cry, only during the grad ceremony," the man mused as she nudged Quinn's side.
"Shut up, our baby is grown and in love, I hate it," she sniffed, "remember when took him home from the hospital and our moms were gushing over how much he looked like you? I miss him being that small," she whispered as Quinn laughed and wrapped his arm around her, hugging her into his side as she wiped the tears.
"I do too, but now he's a whole person, and we helped shape him into that person" he grinned as Warren shook Marissa's father's hand, and was pulled into a hug by her mother, "and I'd say we did a pretty good job."
Warren placed a kiss on Marissa's cheek as she went to talk to her family and Warren went to his.
"Is it okay if I drive my truck to the school, therefore we don't have to rely on you guys to pick us up?" Honey nodded and looked at Quinn.
"You're not drinking if you drive?"
"Of course not," he shrugged, "We don't know if we are even going to the grad party but if we do and I drive I won't drink, and if I want to I will call one of you," Quinn smiled and nodded as he squeezed his son's shoulder.
"Deal, now go have fun," he approved with a grin as Warren ran into the house to grab his keys.
Quinn grinned at Honey, "I'd say we did an amazing job," he bragged causing Honey to cry even more.
"Please stop talking Q," she groaned as she led the way to their car, saying their goodbyes to Marissa's family as they got into the van.
They watched as Warren opened the passenger side door for the young girl who blushed at his actions, got into his car and drove off in the direction of the school.
Honey couldn't stop the growing, it was inevitable, but she could join along for the ride, watching as her son turned from one of the sweetest boys into a caring man.
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#thelittlesthughesau!!#captain huggy celly#quinn hughes#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes blurb#quinn hughes imagine#quinn hughes fanfiction#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes fic#nhl x reader#nhl fic#dad!quinn hughes#jack hughes
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Could Puck from A Midsummer Night's Dream kill Macbeth?
Unfortunately, from what I could find, pretty much every classic folkloric interpretation of fairies/the fey doesn't specify how new members of the species come to be, and this extends to the fairies in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream. I even looked into the supposed inspirations behind Puck specifically, and none of them clarify this either. This means that UBC and BPC are ambiguous and therefore off the table.
As for the Gender Clause, Puck doesn't seem to apply for it either, at least from the research I did on it; Puck is generally referred to with he/him pronouns both in and out of the play's text. If someone more knowledgeable on A Midsummer Night's Dream knows of a point where Puck is explicitly stated to not be a man (in context of gender, not species), or any information about Shakespeare's take on fairy reproduction, then that would be great.
For now, though, until any evidence surfaces saying otherwise, Puck will be categorized as not being able to kill Macbeth. He would most likely be able to get someone else who could to do it for him, though.
Sorry! Thank you for your submission!
#asks#puck#a midsummer night's dream#shakespeare#sorry this one took so long. i went down a really big wiki rabbithole trying to figure out how fairies reproduced in classic literature#you know. normal things to do over the weekend
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Can you explain how PDL is formatted, and what Crystal’s results mean? 
okay sure! i'll try my best
so first of all there's the qualification. you send in a video of you doing classwork, so a short video of you doing basic class exercises at barre and at centre. this is pretty standard content for ballet video auditions.
from here, they accept 80 people - 40 girls and 40 boys. these dancers are split into two age groups and are divided by gender, so you have Girls A (15-16yo) and Girls B (17-18yo), and Boys A (15-16yo) and Boys B (17-18yo).
if you are accepted, you are expected to prepare one classical variation and one contemporary variation, both from a standard repertoire list. the classical repertoire is very limited as compared to yagp, adc ibc, ubc, and most other ballet competitions you might be thinking of. it also changes year by year, so you likely won't be able to prepare for it before being selected. (the repertoire list is released in november, and the competition happens in february). but generally, all classical variations are drawn from the standard repertoire. la esmeralda, grand pas classique, coppelia, etc - all names you would know. the repertoire is also divided by age, so the Girls A don't have the same difficulty as Girls B.
unlike yagp, adc ibc, etc - the contemporary variations at prix de lausanne are also drawn from a repertoire. I believe it also changes by year. they have different choreographers they work with who contribute to the list every year. these choreographers upload videos of their variations and competitors will choose one and learn from those videos in preparation for the competition.
so, at the competition, you will perform your classical variation and your contemporary variation, after taking some classes and coaching sessions from some great teachers who work with prix de lausanne. I don't believe they're being assessed at this point, but first impressions count I guess and apparently the feedback is invaluable.
after this first competition round, they go to the final round, where the numbers go from 80 to 20. these 20 finalists will perform the same variations they did in the first round.
from here, they will pick prize winners. I think the number of prize winners changes year to year, but I'm not sure if it depends on the competitors' abilities or just the number of sponsors they can find. I'm pretty sure they only had 7 winners last year and this year there are 9. not sure why, but it seems to vary!
the prize winners get to choose any ballet school of their choice from the list of schools that partner prix de lausanne, and they will receive a full scholarship to that school. prix de lausanne's school list is pretty extensive. john cranko, royal ballet school, paris opera ballet school, etc etc. vaganova used to be on there until the war. on top of a full scholarship, they get 20,000 CHF to cover living expenses.
prize winners who are 17 and above can also opt to choose not a school but a company, because pdl also has a list of partner companies that is very impressive. so they effectively get free acceptance to that company. they also get the 20,000 CHF!
finalists also have a networking forum/audition class/I forgot what it's called but they get to audition for a lot of company directors while they're at prix de lausanne. i believe finalists also get any free summer intensive of their choice (from pdl's school list of course).
so what this means for crystal:
- she has effectively ranked in the top few ballet students in the world, in both classical and contemporary!
- she will likely be leaving the competition circuit as of this year. anything she's won will be for the 24-25 school year. from what I've seen in previous years it is very unlikely she will come back even after the year is up. even though pdl's scholarship only lasts a year, you'll hardly ever see anyone who genuinely only goes for a year. they will almost always stay on, or just transfer to another full time ballet school if they can't for whatever reason.
- effectively she's made it. she might still do nationals to finish out this year but that's about it.
- her choice of school will likely be announced (if not by her, then just by pdl) in upcoming weeks.
all in all it's bittersweet but it's so rewarding to see her chasing her dreams and accomplishing all she wants!
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Happy April 9th! I’m thrilled to be able to bring you the second installment of Double Blind for the ACOTAR Writing Circle, organized by @azrielshadowssing. The fic was a delight to continue—I hope you like it!
The story was originated by the incomparable @hlizr50 (who also designed this beautiful header) 💕 You can read Part 1 here. Stay tuned for the third and final part of the story on April 23rd.
Many thanks to UBC for their suggestions for Azriel’s go-to bar drink, and for @ofduskanddreams for hitting the nail on the head with a simple, classic G&T.
Bonus points if you can spot the line I lifted from Pirates of the Caribbean 👀
Read here on AO3!
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GWYN
Gwyn felt her blush heighten at Azriel’s words. What was she supposed to say in response to that? Thank goodness, because I was wishing this date was with you anyway? Or No, Azriel, nothing would make me happier? Or Yes, let’s get out of here right now and go somewhere quiet to see just how happy we can make each other?
No. All of that was too serious, too soon. Especially that last one. And anyway, perhaps Azriel was just relieved at the promise of an easy evening spent with a friend. Nothing more—no flirting, no romance, no intimacy. Just friends.
Even if the sight of him standing there in a black jacket was almost enough to make her blurt all of those foolish thoughts out anyway. Had she ever seen him out of his leathers before? He was magnificent in them, certainly—all muscle and cold, breathtaking brutality. But out of them, in normal clothes? His beauty was brutal in a wholly new way, both more terrifying and more inviting all at once. She wondered what it would be like to slip the coat off of his well-muscled shoulders, tracing the strength in his arms, undressing him bit by bit until he stood bare before her.
And had he ever seen her out of her priestess robes or her leathers? Gwyn was suddenly aware of the neckline of her dress and the way the velvet clung to every curve, remembering with no small amount of mortification that she had announced to him that she was “ready to explore intimacy with a male.” And here she was with him. On their date. While he looked like that.
Cauldron boil her.
Caught in a lusty daze, she only slowly realized that his eyes were watching hers almost … expectantly?
Right. She had to say—had to do—something. They had their bargain after all, and Gwyn was determined to uphold her end of it, even if just platonically.
Hoping that Azriel hadn’t noticed the reddening of her cheeks and her too-long silence, she gestured for him to sit in the chair across from her at the table and decided a teasing response would be best. Safe, even. Familiar territory for them and all that. “Nothing? Nothing at all would make you happier?” She challenged, offering him a grin as he took his seat.
Azriel paused for a second, blinking at her and furrowing his brow. Then, easing off his coat to reveal a forest green shirt that Gwyn was definitely, positively not staring at, he simply said, “Sorry to disappoint.”
“Not … I don’t know, new training leathers? A good night’s sleep? Finally beating Cassian in an arm wrestling contest?”
The Shadowsinger only scoffed and arched an eyebrow at her suggestions, silently asking if she was done.
Was she? The teasing had helped her feel more like herself around him, and the adrenaline rush she had felt at the surprise of seeing him as her date had mostly dissipated. She could be normal, friendly Gwyn to normal, friendly Azriel.
But still … she wanted something from him, something just to confirm her suspicions that they were there as friends, and only friends. Even if they had both expected romance tonight—even if the alcove where they were seated was candlelit and cozy, and the sunset off the river behind them glinted in a way that made the gold in Azriel’s hazel eyes shine more brightly, and the wine she had been drinking—bubbly and sweet—made her want to see if kissing Azriel would make her feel the same way. And even if Gwyn had to admit to herself that she wouldn’t mind it overly much if this actually was a date—a real date—with Azriel. And that she sort of hoped it still could be, if he wanted it to be real too.
So, not letting it go, she asked, “What about world peace? Lasting peace in Prythian and the Continent. That would have to make you happier than dinner with me. And,” she continued, taking a sip of her wine to give herself something to do with her hands, “if you disagree, then I think you might just be a terrible male, much as I would hate to say it.” She arched her brow in question, watching his eyes glint at her mock seriousness.
Rather than returning her jest like she expected, however, his eyes grew serious, and he said, “Then I suppose I will be terrible, Gwyneth, if it means I get to have you tonight.”
Gwyn felt her blush, which had finally faded, return with a vengeance as she looked away, her mind filling with thoughts about what Azriel having her tonight might mean—his hands tangled in her hair as he kissed her, or cupping her breasts as he licked his way down her stomach, or palming her ass as he dropped his head to taste between her thighs. She was on fire, heat pooling in her stomach as she prayed to the Mother that her scent wouldn’t shift. That was certainly not a conversation Gwyn wanted to have with Azriel. Not yet, at any rate.
She dared to glance up at him only to see that he too was blushing, having realized the innuendo in his declaration. Was he embarrassed? Did he regret what he said? Or only its implications? Or … neither? Not for the first time, Gwyn found herself wishing that his hazel eyes were slightly less inscrutable.
Before either of them could say anything, however, a female Gwyn didn’t know chose that moment to come over to their table.
“Well, Shadowsinger,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “I never thought I’d see the day that you finally decided to grace my humble restaurant with one of your dates.”
Gwyn giggled at Azriel’s scowl, and the female—who must have been Sevenda—smiled back sweetly at him. Gwyn could read the fondness, the familiarity in the gesture. “You two are close,” she remarked, more a statement than a question.
When Azriel didn’t answer and only continued scowling, Sevenda huffed a laugh. “Yes. Old friends. And he’s one of my best customers, even if he has no manners to speak of.”
At that, Azriel’s scowl deepened. “My manners are perfectly fine, Sevenda. Cassian is the one without any, as you know.”
“Then why haven’t you introduced me to your lovely date, hmm?”
“When have I had a chance?" Azriel grumbled.
Gwyn, barely holding in her laughter at the banter, decided that it was time for her to jump in. “Gwyneth Berdara,” she said, smiling up at Sevenda, “although most people just call me Gwyn. I’m a priestess in the library.”
“And a Valkyrie. And a Carynthian.” Azriel supplied her other two titles, pride and something Gwyn couldn’t quite name in his voice.
“Well, Gwyneth Berdara—priestess, Valkyrie, Carynthian—I am honored to meet you,” Sevenda said with a wink. “And to feed you! You already have a drink, yes?”
Gwyn held up her half-full wine glass.
“And your usual for you, Shadowsinger?”
He nodded. “Thank you, Sevenda.”
“I’ll be back in a minute to get your food orders, then.” Looking at the two of them sitting together, she declared, “Good,” and then turned to walk back to the bar at the front of the restaurant.
“What did she mean by that?” Gwyn asked Azriel as soon as Sevenda was out of earshot. “What does ‘good’ mean?”
Azriel hummed noncommittally. “Probably nothing.”
Gwyn narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t think that’s true.”
She wanted to know what Sevenda meant—and what it meant to Azriel to hear it, if it meant anything at all. Although the tension of the moment before Sevenda appeared had passed, Gwyn couldn’t get Azriel’s serious look out of her mind, couldn’t stop hearing the bass of voice rumble as he declared he’d pick having her over anything else.
Azriel sighed, breaking Gwyn’s train of thought, and then said, “Sevenda’s known me for a long time. If her ‘good’ meant anything, it’s just that she’s happy to see me here. With you.”
“With me?”
“With someone who makes me happy,” he amended, the grin from when he first saw her at the table shyly sliding over his face again.
“And do I … do I make you happy?” Gwyn knew the answer, she hoped, but she wanted to hear it anyway.
“How many times do I have to tell you, Berdara?”
“At least once more, Azriel.”
Gwyn watched him close his eyes briefly as she said his name, and she wondered how it sounded to him, if hearing his name fall from her lips warmed him as much as hearing him utter hers warmed her.
Opening his eyes, he reached out and took her hand. Gwyn’s teal eyes met his hazel ones as her breath caught in her throat. She found she could finally read what he was thinking, could finally make out the feeling that lay behind the impenetrable mask. But he voiced it anyway. “Yes, Gwyneth Berdara—priestess, Valkyrie, Carynthian—you make me very happy.”
Gwyn blushed, and then decided that she too could be brave. “You make me very happy as well, Shadowsinger.”
“Oh, do I?” If possible, his smile grew larger, and Gwyn thought she had never seen a more breathtaking sight. Still holding her hand in his, fingers skirting the bargain tattoo inked on her wrist, he asked, “You know what else would make me happy?”
“What’s that?” Gwyn’s answer slipped out a little breathier than she would have liked, but his fingers on her wrists were driving her to distraction, teasing and tempting all at once.
“If I knew if this was a real date for us. Or if it’s just two friends helping each other fulfill a bargain.”
Gwyn felt her heart stutter to a stop. “Do you want it to be real?”
Azriel only hummed, fingers still moving over the tattoo. “I asked first.”
She didn’t allow herself time to overthink, to worry about what might happen to their friendship if she got this wrong. Gwyn only said, “Yes.”
And without breaking eye contact, Azriel lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it gently, chastely, but that didn’t stop Gwyn from feeling the heat of his lips travel up and across her body, suffusing her with warmth. “It’s been real for me since the moment I saw you at that table.”
AZRIEL
As Gwyn polished off the plate of Sevenda’s food in front of her—dill yogurt pasta topped with spiced lamb, currants, and nuts—Azriel wondered what he had done to get so lucky.
Because Gwyn was here with him. As his date. And not just to fulfill a bargain. He could have whooped with joy, had he been the whooping type, when she said yes to the feelings between them being real, when she let him kiss her hand.
And, oh, he wanted to kiss more—so much more—than just her hand. He hadn’t realized how thoroughly the feeling of her skin beneath his lips would wreck him, how much it would make him burn with the need to know exactly how the rest of her tasted. Her cheeks and her chest were flushed from the heat of the restaurant and the wine, and Azriel wondered how far down that blush extended past the maddening neckline of her dress.
He hoped he would get to find out.
Gwyn cleared her throat, and Azriel simultaneously realized that he had been staring too long and that his shadows—the meddling, disloyal assholes—had decided they no longer needed to mask his scent.
“See something you like, Shadowsinger?” Gwyn asked, grinning wickedly.
Azriel flushed, thanking the Mother that Gwyn seemed pleased at the development rather than repulsed.
Deciding that no verbal answer would rescue his dignity, he settled for grabbing his drink, polishing off what was left in one final gulp.
She laughed and said, “It’s still so predictable that your drink of choice is a gin and tonic.”
He scowled. “How is it predictable?”
“It just …” she paused, looking for the right words. “It just fits what I’d expect you to look for in a drink. Simple, easy to make.” Gwyn’s eyes took on that playful glint that Azriel knew meant she was about to start baiting him. “Dare I say … safe?” She grinned at him, waiting for his reaction.
And he took the bait, as he always did. “Like fruity wine is that adventurous.”
Gwyn sniffed primly. “It had bubbles, at least.”
But her eyes crinkled at the corners, and Azriel found himself rolling his eyes fondly. “You’ll come to love gin and tonics eventually, Berdara.”
“I think I just might, Azriel.”
And he didn’t think she was just talking about drinks anymore.
“Do you want to get out of here?” He asked.
Gwyn looked at him, suddenly serious.
“There’s no pressure for this date to be any more than what it’s been already, Gwyn. But if you’d like—”
“Yes,” she interrupted. “I would like.”
Azriel thought he might die right there. Whatever else the night became, this moment was perfect, untouchably perfect.
“But I don’t want to go back to the House. I’m not ready to face those busybodies and have to admit they were right.” She wrinkled her nose.
Laughing at how scrunched her face was, utterly smitten, he stood and held out a hand to her. “Come on. I know a place close by.”
#gwynriel#gwynriel fanfic#gwyn berdara#azriel shadowsinger#acotar writing circle#acotarwritingcircle#gwynriel blind date#do they finally figure it out?#I had all these plans for shenanigans#and then the two of them just kinda wanted to be sweet
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i’ve finally had a minute to read a few elucien week fics and i just started This Fire Won’t Burn Me - AO3 isn’t letting me leave kudos or a comment but i just wanted to come on here and say that it’s STUNNING so far. the first chapter is haunting, the writing so vivid i can picture each scene almost cinematically - i knew from UBC snippets that i’d enjoy it but i’m DEVOURING it thus far. the plot is perfect for elucien & you are so talented at weaving a classic tale in such a fresh, punchy way!
You know I'm writing 50% for me, 50% for you at this point. I'm glad you're enjoying it though!! This was such a rushed project since I bailed on my first idea like...right at the beginning of June. So it's been stressing me out and the reception has been so generous.
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“You are welcome!”
"I fixed the two that apply which you overlooked Classic UBCS to be so sloppy.
"I assume you'll only want the finest things for our wedding? It will be a lovely ceremony until the realization that you've rigged the chapel with explosives and lickers."
But also dibs on Carlos as my maid of honor just to piss you off.
#priceforeverything#classic Bertha: talk shit to Nikolai while being absolutely enamored but then also being spiteful about it
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The USA vs. Canada: Master's Degree Fees Face-Off
With overseas education budgets tightening, aspirants must evaluate value beyond big brand names alone. How do fees compare for reputed Master’s options in USA and Canada — two mature study abroad destinations?
Flagship American institutions like UCLA, Georgia Tech, UT Austin etc cost around $55,000 (~INR 40 lakhs) for premium STEM Master’s requiring 2 years full-time study on average. Subjects like business or economics exceed $65,000 at places like Michigan or Indiana.
Top Canadian colleges like University of Toronto, UBC or McGill charge $30,000 (~INR 22 lakhs) for analogous 1-year tech/engineering programs on average while MBA fees are comparably lesser too averaging under $60,000 overall still.
Dollar parity and lower Canadian living costs thanks to public healthcare prove added advantages preventing fee sticker shocks further. Educational loan eligibility also favors Canada currently.
Therefore those open exploring alternate Anglophone destinations beyond classic American fixation should evaluate Canada for finding reputed Master’s options across subjects that are 25–30% more affordable by prudent financial planning.
Savings channelized into further professional growth post-study proves useful in long run too!
-Amey Patil
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Punjabi homemade tiffin service
Yogis Kitchen: Authentic Punjabi Home-Style Tiffin ServiceLooking for a delicious and authentic Punjabi tiffin service in Victoria? Look no further than Yogis Kitchen! We offer a variety of tiffin plans that are sure to please, from classic Punjabi dishes like chole bhature to more modern fusion dishes like butter chicken poutine. Our tiffins are always made with fresh, high-quality ingredients and cooked with love, and they're delivered right to your door.
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First meet of season provides encouraging results for T-Birds
New Post has been published on https://petn.ws/LoeVI
First meet of season provides encouraging results for T-Birds
Story Links STANFORD, Calif. – The UBC Thunderbirds Track and Field team officially kicked off their 2023 competitive season Saturday at Stanford University’s Cardinal Classic. Facing some tremendous competition from both NCAA and NAIA schools, the meet saw some strong results for the ‘Birds along with six early qualifications to the National Championships […]
See full article at https://petn.ws/LoeVI
#BirdNews
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We ventured through the snow to listen to the beautiful sounds of @earlymusicvancouver #festivecantatas at @chancentreubc - if you missed the performance in-person you can catch it on-demand on the #EMV #DigitalConcertHall starting tonight. Check the blog for links. #bach #festive #cantatas #pacificbaroqueorchestra #baroque #classic #instruments #orchestra #programpic #chancentre #snowstorm #bcstorm #snow #winter #christmas #vancouver #ubc https://instagr.am/p/CmesFlxv1sj/
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Activism in the Arts: I’ve Got U Under My Skin: AIDS & Classical Music
Activism in the Arts: I’ve Got U Under My Skin: AIDS & Classical Music
Activism in the Arts
Kevin Madill
Activism in the Arts: I’ve Got U Under My Skin: AIDS & Classical Music
Kevin Madill
Activism in the Arts: I’ve Got U Under My Skin: AIDS & Classical Music is an exhibition comprised of print scores, audio recordings, and an accompanying QR code listening list curated by Kevin Madill, Music Librarian, the University of British Columbia (UBC). Works exhibited were…
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“I Am YEG Arts” Series: Ian Crutchley
Potential. Some people see it in everything. If you’re Ian Crutchly, you also hear it, feel it, and can’t wait to share it—which is exactly what he does. Whether he’s composing, performing, collaborating, or teaching, his end goal is always the same: to share what you can with each other. To Crutchley, that same sentiment informs a lot of what goes on in the arts here—a community he describes as a network of deeply caring and collaborative relationships—with a future he can’t wait to see.
Composer, educator, and Artistic Director with New Music Edmonton, this week’s “I Am YEG Arts” story belongs to Ian Crutchley.
Tell us about your connection to Edmonton and what keeps you living and working here.
I moved to Edmonton in 2009, along with my spouse, flutist Chenoa Anderson. She grew up out here, so, for one of us this already was home, but now I also consider it home! Top reason to stay here: the arts scene! This is a place where folks in any experimental arts discipline can find opportunities to present their own work, and also to work with others. Somehow, when you move here, those already here just seem to find you. And underlying all this is the great support we enjoy by way of public funding.
How did you get your start as a composer/performer? Was it always Plan A?
Like many, I started by playing in elementary school band class. Some things you can only see in retrospect: looking back, I can see that right away music was at least a little bit more important to me than it was to most of my friends. And while many of them dropped music over the years of high school, I kept going and, with the encouragement of my parents, decided to go on to college and university. It was there that I first found out what a composer was and immediately decided it was the right thing for me. By a weird quirk of the curriculum in the B.Mus. prep program I was in, I was actually assigned to write a 12-tone piece in my first year, and that hooked me for good. Also, I can see now that I had a long fascination (predating band class) of finding ways to make instruments (and other things) make cool sounds, and enjoyed rock music that was basically chaotic and noisy.
Tell us a little about your role with New Music Edmonton (NME) and what makes it special to you and the city.
My official title is Artistic Director, and I am basically the one in charge of supervising what artistic content we present. While some decisions are entirely my own, we do most of our programming in a collaborative way, with team-juried open calls. We also invite individuals who are not directly involved in the organization to curate events.
What makes NME special to me is seeing how, thanks to enormous amounts of community input, it has evolved from a club for classical composers into a bona fide hub for pretty much any creative practices involving sound as a medium. What makes NME special to the city? To be honest, I think it is that we remain unique in being the only publicly funded organization whose sole purpose is to support the practices we do and to offer professional presentations of new work by local and visiting artists.
Tell us about someone whose support and advice have guided your career.
Oh wow! That’s a big question. I feel like the mentorship from which I have benefited is really an assemblage of large and small things that have come from different people over the several decades since I first started studying music. My family’s unconditional support has been vital, as have been the bits of advice and situations I have found myself in as a result of my teachers’ guidance, suggestions and interventions. I have also learned tons from my students. At the heart of it all, for decades, I have been blessed with incredible support and sage advice from Chenoa, my partner in life and art since we met at UBC.
What does community mean to you, and where do you find it?
It’s somewhat epitomized by the very young person who, accompanied by a parent, went door-to-door in our neighbourhood early in the pandemic, leaving a note letting anyone know that if they needed anything at all, they could call and this brilliant human would be there for them. Amazing, and inspirational! The words caring and sharing also come to mind, along with an obligation to act, when we can, to ensure others are okay and getting the help they need. We can’t be a community unless we care about everyone in it and share what we can with each other. I think this idea informs a lot of what goes on in the arts here—there is an amazing network of creative, collaborative, and deeply caring relationships underlying it all, within and across disciplines.
What is the creative process like for you? Where/how do you usually begin?
Like many, notebooks are the core of my work. If I am writing a new composition, it begins with trying to either verbalize in writing or represent graphically what will happen. My notebooks, worked on in cafes, libraries, airplanes, and even bars, are mostly full of multi-coloured words, numbers, and drawings. My way of working is focused on setting up a process, unique to each work, of which any finished work will merely be one example of what that process might produce.
What qualities overlap in being a composer and a performer. How have you grown most in each role?
Since my performance activities are improvisatory, constant invention is a must—yet that kind of invention is crucial to composing, too. In improv, it is the (nearly) instantaneous generation of a sound or sounds in response to a unique performance context. In composition, the invention has more to do with inventing new ways of composing via unique, stable processes that underlie a new piece.
I’m not totally sure I can say I have grown as an artist—part of being an artist, for me, is about the sense of play, even when it is serious. Maybe I am better at playing now! Hmmm… I think one way things have changed is that decisions happen more quickly, and that might be one way in which, as my “second practice,” improv has informed my compositional work. I owe a lot of that to numerous dancers in Edmonton, who have generously allowed me to grow as an improviser in the context of their workshops and finished works.
As a composer, though, I am also at a real crossroads with what I am doing—the concepts are really at odds with what I prioritized in the past. I am very happy with that and allowing myself, through slow development and experimentation, to find a way of concretizing what it is I am imagining.
What are you looking forward to most this winter in Edmonton?
I actually like the winters here and am even a winter cyclist! Personally—and I know not everyone is like this—I feel way more creative in the colder months. That has always been the case. I was also really excited to make a return to teaching this fall, at Concordia University of Edmonton. I’ve been away from teaching for a few years but have really been inspired by getting back in the classroom with a great group of students!
I think one of the other reasons I enjoy the colder months is that they tend to be the time when most arts organizations launch their seasons. Whether online or in person, I’m looking forward to all sorts of great things from local and visiting artists, and to the inspiring performances and community activities that everyone’s been cooking up in the off-season.
What excites you most about the YEG arts scene right now?
The last three years have been very hard in so many ways, and everyone (not just artists) are really just coming to terms with what’s happened. On the other hand, emerging from this period has been some truly visionary presentation strategies, some serious commitment to long-term equity policies and structural change, and even some new venues. We’ve also seen some amazing new ideas and works from established artists, countered by lots of cool and innovative emerging artists.
Underlying it all, we’ve enjoyed fabulous support from our local and national funders. All of this suggests the potential for a lot of wonderful and surprising new work to happen in the months and years ahead. The tough times are not over, but artists here will keep working and finding ways to express the things everyone is experiencing and the times in which we are living, through all kinds of amazing practices. I’m looking forward to what’s to come!
Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here to learn more about Ian Crutchley and his work with New Music Edmonton.
About Ian Crutchley
Ian Crutchley was born in Toronto, grew up in Surrey, has lived in England and New Brunswick, and seems to have settled in Edmonton. His ongoing education in creativity and in life has been informed by phenomenal teachers, students, and a remarkable menagerie of wise, sharing, and loving people he has known at work and at play. A classical composer by training, his practice has broadened in recent years to include improvisation and performances with dancers and other artists. The sounds he uses can come from anything that he finds that seems useful, from traditional instruments to marbles and odd bits and bobs he has found in junk shops and alleyways. He has a particular fondness for transistor radios.
Ian is an educator, a founding member of the improvisation group damn magpies, and the Artistic Director of New Music Edmonton.
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Wildlight Kitchen + Bar x UBC.
There’s a clear “West Coast Wild” culinary influence to the brand new restaurant’s core all-day menu concept of locally-sourced ingredients including fresh seafood. Its pedigree comes from Executive Chef Warren Chow who was classically trained in French cuisine but brings along modern tastes and flavours.
Pan-seared Hokkaido scallops with lobster and truffle risotto, preserved lemon, paprika oil, and squid ink tuile.
“Pescatarian Board”: salmon pastrami, beet-cured ling cod, marinated green lip mussels, smoked albacore tataki, cod rillette, pickled sea asparagus, warm olives, rye, poppadom, and nori crackers.
“Kazuki Sour”: Sheringham Kazuki gin, Cointreau, salted yuzu syrup, egg white, and citrus, served up.
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