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Magical Mystery Tour: a map of Toronto’s fictional murders

Dead bodies are turning up all over the fictional cityscape. We’ve mapped out the grisliest murders in 10 titles

Magical Mystery Tour

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See Douglas Coupland’s futuristic pop art at MOCCA and the ROM

Tomorrowland

(Image: Rachel Topham)

Douglas Coupland’s art dwells on the same subjects as his novels: urbanism, technology and a culture accelerating toward uncertain ends. He distills loaded ideas into supercharged symbols, like the colossal toy soldiers at Fleet and Bathurst commemorating the War of 1812, and an orca sculpture in the Vancouver Harbour that resembles a pixelated JPEG. His work over the past two decades has been poppy and prescient, forecasting Internet ubiquity and commodification. Yet despite his skepticism, Coupland is a diehard utopian, energized by the knowledge, innovation and communication that technology affords us.

The new exhibit Everywhere Is Anywhere Is Anything Is Everything is the first major retrospective of Coupland’s visual art, divided into themes like “Pop Explosion,” “21st-Century Condition” and “Growing Up Utopian.” The ROM and the MOCCA have transformed into helter-skelter funhouses, filled with Coupland’s candy-coloured painted panels, towering Lego cities and an installation he calls “The Brain”: a room of 5,000 toys and trinkets he’s collected over 20 years from Craigslist and garage sales. The show swamps your brain with pop culture references, optical illusions and politicized polemics. His message? For all the fear and frenzy, there’s still plenty to be hopeful about.

Jan. 31–Apr. 26. Royal Ontario Museum (100 Queen’s Park) and MOCCA (952 Queen St. W.), couplandto.ca.

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The Relentless Robert Deluce: Porter’s founder wants jets on the waterfront. Who’s going to stop him?

His plans to bring jets to the Island airport have made him Public Enemy Number One. But Robert Deluce isn’t used to failure—and he has a network of powerful allies to help him get what he wants

The Relentless Robert Deluce

Deluce in the breakfast nook of his Rosedale home

One morning this spring, a ceremonial ribbon-cutting will be held on the Toronto waterfront. The event will mark the official opening of a 240-metre pedestrian tunnel, the long-ballyhooed fixed link connecting Eireann Quay, the bulbous toe of Bathurst Street, to Billy Bishop Airport on the northwest quadrant of the Toronto Islands. The $82.5-million tunnel will reconnect the Islands to the city for the first time in 157 years: in 1858, a violent storm swept over Lake Ontario, ripping what had been a sand and gravel peninsula from the shoreline and creating a 15-islet archipelago.

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The Dish

Restaurants

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Pie Eyed: Seven takes on a classic comfort food

Savoury pies, the ultimate winter comfort food, are popping up in imaginative new variations. Here are some of our favourite meat, potato and lobster pastry pockets.


Savoury pies, the ultimate winter comfort food, are popping up in imaginative new variations. Here are some of our favourite meat, potato and lobster pastry pockets.

Click to see a larger version

Click to see a larger version

1 Pork Pie
The best option at Gino Amodio’s new midtown lunch spot, Pie Squared, is the PK— a pastry pocket stuffed with lightly spiced pulled pork, sweet corn kernels and ribbons of caramelized onion. $5. 366 Bloor St. E., 647-350-2743.

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Mama’s Boy: brazenly bratty, 25-year-old filmmaker Xavier Dolan is Canada’s next great auteur


Xavier Dolan

When the lineup for the 2014 Cannes film festival was announced last April, the Canadian media transformed into a patriotic hype machine. The reason? Three Canadian directors had films in competition: the Academy Award–­nominated Atom Egoyan for his thriller The Captive, the body horror auteur David Cronenberg for Maps to the Stars and, sidling uncomfortably up the flank, the 25-year-old Quebecer Xavier Dolan for his family drama Mommy.

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Deputy police chief Peter Sloly on running to succeed Bill Blair, and the first item on his agenda if he does: race

Q&A: Peter SlolyAs deputy police chief, you are frequently mentioned as a favourite to succeed Bill Blair. Do you want the job?
William Blair is the best chief we’ve ever had. I’ll apply, but otherwise I’m focused on my role as deputy chief.

What would it mean to you to be ­Toronto’s first black chief?
I would hope that in a city as progressive as ours, my race would be just one of the many factors that would make me suited to the job. I have an MBA, experience as a United Nations peacekeeper in Kosovo and years of expertise in front-line community policing.

You were born in Jamaica and moved here at age 10. You made the Canadian men’s soccer team but played in just one game. How badly did you blow it?
Ha. Well, that was Cyprus in 1984, and we tied 0–0. I was a defenceman, so that’s a success in my books. Eventually, I blew out my back—my L4 and L5–S1 vertebrae are now metal—and I had to re-evaluate my career choices.

I’ll spare you the RoboCop jokes. Why did you choose policing?
I just knew I wanted to serve and protect.

Can you still keep up with the physical demands of the job?
I can run, jump, fight, shoot and ­handcuff—or sit in a chair for 10 hours a day, which is mostly what I do.

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#TorontoIsFailingMe: My seniors’ group safeguards the mall

Toronto’s inner suburbs have become shorthand for crumbling postwar apartment blocks, underfunded schools or gang warfare. They’re among the neighbourhoods with the lowest incomes in the city, the longest trek to a TTC stop, and the highest concentration of immigrants and visible minorities. This month, we’re sharing stories from Torontonians who live in the inner suburbs, told in their own words. Some are shocking, some tragic, some hopeful. Together, they convey an urgent truth: Toronto is failing too many of its citizens. Have a story of your own? Tweet, Facebook, or Instagram with the hashtag #TorontoIsFailingMe to tell us.
#TorontoIsFailingMe: My seniors' group safeguards the mall

Wilma Inniss, front and centre, and members of her mall walking group. (Image: Eamon Mac Mahon)

Wilma Inniss, 77
Malvern

I came to Canada from Trinidad in 1963. When I retired from my job at the ­Ministry of Transportation 14 years ago, a couple of my friends told me about a seniors’ walking group at the Malvern Town ­Centre. I’ve been going ever since, and I now run the program with my younger sister, Gemma.

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#TorontoIsFailingMe: My parents worked round-the-clock to lift us out of poverty

Toronto’s inner suburbs have become shorthand for crumbling postwar apartment blocks, underfunded schools or gang warfare. They’re among the neighbourhoods with the lowest incomes in the city, the longest trek to a TTC stop, and the highest concentration of immigrants and visible minorities. This month, we’re sharing stories from Torontonians who live in the inner suburbs, told in their own words. Some are shocking, some tragic, some hopeful. Together, they convey an urgent truth: Toronto is failing too many of its citizens. Have a story of your own? Tweet, Facebook, or Instagram with the hashtag #TorontoIsFailingMe to tell us.
#TorontoIsFailingMe: My parents worked round-the-clock to lift us out of poverty

Abirami Jeyaratnam at her Victoria Park and Ellesmere semi. (Image: Eamon Mac Mahon)

Abirami Jeyaratnam, 29
Victoria Park and Ellesmere

My parents fled Sri Lanka as refugees from the civil war, arriving in Canada 30 years ago. My brother, Gobi, was born in 1981. I was born in Montreal in 1986, and we moved to Toronto in 1987, settling near relatives at Jane and Finch. My father, a high school dropout, loved Canada and thrived here. He worked at an automotive factory and at a KFC. In between, he picked up paper routes, delivery jobs, whatever he could do to make extra cash. He woke up every day at 5 a.m. and usually didn’t finish work until midnight. My mother and we kids would go to pick him up; that car ride was our family time. He worked like that until he had a heart attack in 2000. After he recovered, he took on a position as a security guard at a residential apartment.

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The Yorkville Swindler: how Albert Allan Rosenberg scammed his way into high society

To his wife and girlfriends and business partners, Albert Allan Rosenberg was a billionaire, a Swiss baron, a merchant banker with holdings around the world, the most charming guy in the room. The incredible story of how he fooled them all

The Yorkville Swindler

Rosenberg in 2011, when he was posing as a merchant banker

Looking back, it does seem unlikely that a Swiss billionaire baron would be seeking love on the Internet, but when Antoinette met Albert Rosenberg on eHarmony in February 2012, she just figured she got lucky. Along with the European title, he was also charming, successful, dashing and, yes, mega-rich, hard at work on his latest venture, a Canadian merchant bank called Marwa Holdings. He was educated at Harvard, fluent in French and German, a world traveller. Rosenberg had a thriving medical software business back in Zurich and a sizable trust in the multimillions. He was heir to the Ovaltine fortune, a direct descendent of Albert Wander, who invented the popular Swiss malt drink back in 1904. This was how he supported his lavish lifestyle. Or so he said.

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#TorontoIsFailingMe: I want to teach kids that this neighbourhood isn’t a curse

Toronto’s inner suburbs have become shorthand for crumbling postwar apartment blocks, underfunded schools or gang warfare. They’re among the neighbourhoods with the lowest incomes in the city, the longest trek to a TTC stop, and the highest concentration of immigrants and visible minorities. This month, we’re sharing stories from Torontonians who live in the inner suburbs, told in their own words. Some are shocking, some tragic, some hopeful. Together, they convey an urgent truth: Toronto is failing too many of its citizens. Have a story of your own? Tweet, Facebook, or Instagram with the hashtag #TorontoIsFailingMe to tell us.
#TorontoIsFailingMe: I want to teach kids that this neighbourhood isn't a curse

Abdul Nur in his neighbourhood. Click to see photos from his day volunteering at Westview Centennial Secondary School. (Image: Eamon Mac Mahon)

Abdul Nur, 19
Jane and Finch

I grew up in a five-bedroom townhouse in the ­Edgeley Village community housing complex. My whole life I had neighbours and friends who looked out for me. I have seven ­brothers and sisters, five older than me and two younger. My dad was a veterinarian in Somalia, but he now works in a shipping department. My mom keeps me on the right path.

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The Dish

Restaurants

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Party in the U.S.A.: the Trump Hotel’s America serves excellent food—with a side of “What the hell?”

America Trump Hotel

Chef de cuisine Bill Osborne executes glam dishes like the showstopping $58 lobster Rockefeller (right)

America ★★
325 Bay St., 31st Flr., 416-637-5550
How our star system works »

Just as Donald Trump is a ­cartoon moneybags, his tower at Bay and Adelaide makes for a caricature of a swish hotel. On my first visit I stumbled outside the building for several minutes, looking for the entrance, before I realized the main door is reached through a car ramp—Trump guests don’t walk to the hotel, they’re driven in stretch Escalades. The lobby is a Liz Taylor mausoleum of inlaid marble and nodding orchids, with a 600-kilo sculpture of Swarovski crystals sparkling over the front desk. As I made my way to the elevators, I passed a bellhop gesturing frantically at an oblivious Slavic businessman lighting a cigar, and a woman and her teacup ­Yorkie in matching pink jackets.

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#TorontoIsFailingMe: I moved to Mississauga to get away from gang life

Toronto’s inner suburbs have become shorthand for crumbling postwar apartment blocks, underfunded schools or gang warfare. They’re among the neighbourhoods with the lowest incomes in the city, the longest trek to a TTC stop, and the highest concentration of immigrants and visible minorities. This month, we’re sharing stories from Torontonians who live in the inner suburbs, told in their own words. Some are shocking, some tragic, some hopeful. Together, they convey an urgent truth: Toronto is failing too many of its citizens. Have a story of your own? Tweet, Facebook, or Instagram with the hashtag #TorontoIsFailingMe to tell us.
#TorontoIsFailingMe: I moved to Mississauga to get away from gang life

Rajeev Sathiyaseelan, 26
Wexford

I was born in Jaffna, Sri Lanka, in 1988. My mother moved to Canada a year later, and my father followed soon after. But they left me in Jaffna with my maternal grandparents until 1991, when they were able to bring us all to Toronto. We lived in a three-bedroom townhouse in Rexdale with my mother’s family. There were seven of us in the house—and I shared a room with my parents. My brother was born in 1993.

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#TorontoIsFailingMe: I ran against Rob Ford and suffered the consequences

Toronto’s inner suburbs have become shorthand for crumbling postwar apartment blocks, underfunded schools or gang warfare. They’re among the neighbourhoods with the lowest incomes in the city, the longest trek to a TTC stop, and the highest concentration of immigrants and visible minorities. This month, we’re sharing stories from Torontonians who live in the inner suburbs, told in their own words. Some are shocking, some tragic, some hopeful. Together, they convey an urgent truth: Toronto is failing too many of its citizens. Have a story of your own? Tweet, Facebook, or Instagram with the hashtag #TorontoIsFailingMe to tell us.
#TorontoIsFailingMe: I ran against Rob Ford and suffered the consequences

Munira Abukar at her Rexdale townhouse complex. (Image: Eamon Mac Mahon)

Munira Abukar, 22
Rexdale

My parents came to Toronto from Somalia during the civil war. I’m the fourth of nine children: eight girls and one boy. I still live with my parents, in the same five-bedroom townhouse where I grew up. My dad has always supported us on a taxi-driver’s income; my mom stayed home and took care of us kids. My brother joined the Canadian military six years ago and helps with the bills. It’s been a challenge, but my parents are strong-willed and determined.

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#TorontoIsFailingMe: My brother was killed outside a bar, and everyone assumed he was in a gang

Toronto’s inner suburbs have become shorthand for crumbling postwar apartment blocks, underfunded schools or gang warfare. They’re among the neighbourhoods with the lowest incomes in the city, the longest trek to a TTC stop, and the highest concentration of immigrants and visible minorities. This month, we’re sharing stories from Torontonians who live in the inner suburbs, told in their own words. Some are shocking, some tragic, some hopeful. Together, they convey an urgent truth: Toronto is failing too many of its citizens. Have a story of your own? Tweet, Facebook, or Instagram with the hashtag #TorontoIsFailingMe to tell us.
#TorontoIsFailingMe: My brother was killed outside a bar, and everyone assumed he was in a gang

Arsema (in the blue scarf) with her father, Tsehaie, her mother, Mebrat, her sister, Salem, and her brother, Filmon, in their East York home (Image: Eamon Mac Mahon)

Arsema Berhane, 32
East York

My father, Tsehaie Berhane, fled Asmara, Eritrea, in the ’80s during the war with Ethiopia. He was a professor, and the Ethiopians were targeting professionals. It took seven years for him to be able to sponsor my mother, Mebrat, myself, and my three siblings, Filmon, Nahom and Salem. We all arrived in Toronto in 1990. It was March 14, the day before Nahom’s 10th birthday. For four months we lived in a one-bedroom in a high-rise near Lawrence Avenue and Black Creek Drive. The four kids shared the bedroom and my parents slept on a pullout couch. We’d never been in an apartment building before, and it felt like a prison compared to Asmara, where there were other children to play with and green space all around us. That July, we moved into a community housing townhouse in ­Victoria Village. There was a big yard, fields, a school across the street and children from many different cultures. It felt like we had finally arrived at the place we’d envisioned for so long. That was an epic moment for us kids.

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The Goods

Homes

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East Meets King West: a film producer’s 34th-floor ode to the Far East

Great Spaces: a film producer’s 34th-floor ode to the Far East

Niv Fichman’s 1,100-square-foot condo mimics a traditional Japanese house—as much as it can on the 34th floor of a building at King and Spadina. The 56-year-old co-founder of the film production company Rhombus Media (Enemy, Sensitive Skin, The Red Violin) is a self-professed Japan fanatic. His fascination was fuelled by frequent visits to Hiro Sushi in the ’90s and equally frequent visits to the country itself—he figures he’s been at least 70 times in the last 25 years. “Even before my first trip, I was sold, conceptually and aesthetically,” he says. “I love the attention to detail, the way they maximize space and the way they treat art.” So when he bought this pre-build unit six years ago, he hired architect Drew Sinclair, of RegionalArchitects, to turn it into an ode to the Far East. ­Fichman’s goal was to have as few rooms as possible—an idea he took to extremes by putting his bathroom in the centre of the open-­concept space (wooden sliders act as shoji screens when privacy dictates). The bedroom is a traditional washitsu, a Japanese room with tatami floors that serve as a sleeping pad. Yes, Fichman rolls and unrolls a futon mattress each morning and evening—something that sounds easier in theory than practice.