Out & About #948 | Ronin Izakaya + KAWS: FAMILY

Read Part 1 HERE !

Rounding onto Baldwin Street in advance of sundown, our footsteps would pass the storefronts of Butter & Blue, Hattendo (former Kekou), and Light Café.

​Ronin Izakaya had secured a spot on my to-go list from the moment I learned of their extensive Hitachino Nest lineup. Beyond the crowd favourite of White Ale, they also carried rarer varieties such as the Lager and Saison du Japon!

The sharing of sustenance and drawn-out conversations are customary of izakaya setups. That said, my dining partner asserted opposing desires when she alluded to the restaurant's ambience being unfavourable for photo-taking and resorted to ordering a single entrée without alcohol pairing. I silently argued that dim lighting was an intentional choice to create a comfortable gathering environment, while communal dining was to promote interactions within the party in a casual manner.

​Ronin Izakaya had presented the noteworthy promotional offer of a one-dollar food item with purchase of two cocktails or one premium bottle drink (ABV>10%, excluding beer). There were also cocktail and Asahi deals priced at $7 and $10 respectively. Yet, in spite of these varied promotions, it was quickly deduced that the stance of my dining partner would not be altered by any form of persuasive marketing. Her earlier review of Sayuri merely "tasting like alcohol" was also coherent of this unenthusiastic response.

Of course, my determination did not waver. Initially debating Hitachino and the extremely exclusive Kuronama Black Lager savoured at Japan Festival, I ultimately decided on the latter on the basis of - you guessed it - exclusivity.

Delicious and refreshing, just as it had been three months prior in the summer heat, it paired splendidly with my picks of the evening.

​Prioritizing variety over volume, I took to orders of Yasai Salad, Korokke, and Toyotomi Hideyoshi Samurai Skewer. Traditional Oden and the Unagyu Don had also appealed to me, but were knowingly substantial portions. In the absence of a large group, as well as my personal vehicle for lugging back leftovers, these inclinations were set aside for potential future sojourns.
Meanwhile, a Beef Yaki Udon was requested across from me. The dish was remarkably basic for its associated seventeen-dollar price tag, which prompted some degree of surprise. Defending the selection, she informed that neither udon nor homecooked meals were a common occurence - again, another shocking revelation. (Udon is so economic! But I digress.)

​The Kuronama arrived first, followed by staggered appearances of the Korokke and Yasai Salad. A nutty, slightly tangy sesame dressing had been served on the side as requested; having forgotten to note the omission of red onions, I resorted to plucking the slivers out, one by one. Amusingly, my dining partner was also not particularly fond of raw onions, and removed the scallion rings submerged in her miso soup accordingly.

Between crisp bites of potato Korokke were soul-soothing bites of baby spinach, sweet cherry tomatoes, and delightful fried onions that were, astoundingly, not greasy at all! I also enjoyed the sesame dressing significantly, for it was creamy without being satiating, yet retained a distinct acidity without the vinegar-y, grated onion-containing profile of ponzu.

​The wait for the Samurai Skewer was tremendous, and delayed our arrival at the AGO by at least twenty minutes. Consideration was extended for its extravagant presentation, for the twenty-five dollar spectacle was no quiet contender. Yakitori Momo (Chicken Thigh) had been glazed and arranged onto a skewer the length of my torso. At the end of the two picks was a sword handle, allowing patrons to grasp and shift the skewer off its standing rack as needed. A small emerald dish rested underneath, catching any drips exuded by the showy signature piece.

Beyond segments of chicken thigh coated in a sweet-savoury veil and sprinkled lightly with sesame seeds and togarashi, the skewer also included sweet bell peppers (yellow and green), cherry tomatoes, and pineapple chunks for sweet contrast. The entirety of the showpiece could not depleted in one sitting, thus was brought home for later consumption. Unfortunately, the pieces were observed to dry out over time while forming a rather fiery exterior from the togarashi.

Overall, the dining experience was pleasurable and service amicable, albeit sluggish. Having arrived around the 5:49 PM mark, the interior was barely occupied. The hostess/waitress had permitted any choice of table, which spanned two-person bar-style seating with adjustable table height, four-person tables with backless wooden stools, and six-person booths located towards the back of the eatery. By the time of our 7:20 PM departure, a handful of students had filed in for their fill of supper, though noise levels had hardly risen.

​Washrooms were located at the bottom of a steep stairwell, emitting a similar aura to Kinton five doors down. Stalls were separated by gender, with the women's stall featuring a plush bunny backpack on the back of the door. Originally under the impression that the bag had been forgotten by another customer, signage above the door clarified that the inclusion was to facilitate access to menstrual products subtly. The addition was unexpected but remarkably thoughtful. As noted by the cleaning record posted, the stall was well-maintained but generally dilapidated and not very pristine

​In an ideal situation, we would have arrived at the AGO at 6 PM sharp to take advantage of the Free Wednesday Night offer. We would have also been unlikely to maximize the three-hour window of exploration, which would enable an early return home for rest and recovery. Alas, the duration of izakaya indulgence had not aligned with these objectives. (Though, I regret nothing about visiting Ronin.)

Nearing the exhibit entrance, the staff informed me that my backpack would not be permitted within the galleries. The women pointed in the direction of Coat Check, noting that it would be complimentary. Descending down a spiraled ramp neatly integrated into the foyer design, we made our way over towards the counter. Apparently, backpacks (and laptop bags!) could be checked in at no fee, however coats would entail charges of either $3 or $5 dollars if not placed within a bag exceeding size limits. Also restricted were tripods of any size and shape, just as with the Infinity Mirrors exhibit. Coloured chips with peeling number labels were provided for retrieval of our items later on.

​My exploration partner of the evening had extended some unwarranted commentary at the start of the itinerary event, profoundly announcing that my photo-capturing habits were "even worse than" her own. The statement had be taken back, for there is no "correct" way to document an event, nor metrics on how to enjoy it. Frankly, as much as I value efficiency in the execution of my day-to-day tasks, leisure outings are not subject to these parameters (beyond logistics). In my head, I silently defended my choice to capture the Coat Check entrance, stairwell, and miscellaneous tidbits between each exhibit, for all of aspects assumed a part in my personal experience, be it minor or major.

Steadily making our way to the second floor, it dawned upon me that our goals were different. While one of us entered resolute with Reel-making intentions, the other had compromised a regular workout session for a rare after-work adventure. While one of us was constantly focused on filming fixtures of interest for the social media audience, the other wished to seize opportunities for personal fulfillment.

View full album HERE !

​Often do I find amusement in mimicking the poses of the characters on display. KAWS was no exception. But exasperation was sent my way when I requested re-takes of evidently poor compositions, or outcomes that failed to align with the image in mind, even with specific instructions.

​Not all was frustrating, of course, though I did find the differences distinct enough to conjure moderate discomfort.

Having entered the premises without any prior knowledge of KAWS, the exhibit was admittedly uncompelling. While I appreciated the use of varying mediums for expression, the "X"s for eyes and defeated body language weren't successful in stimulating a response from within. Be it the "Gang Sofa" constructed of Sesame Street plushies, black-and-white Snoopy grid ("Man's Best Friend"), vivid orange Reese Puffs packaging ("Orange Box" and "Blue Box"), and distinctive square pieces inspired by the strange sitcom of The Simpsons, the pieces felt repetitive and mundane.​

Indeed, I loved the sight of plushies. I also revelled in recreating the dramatic poses firsthand. Despite the bold lines and vibrancy though, they all evoked a sense of despair - likely reflective of the New York-based artist's own emotional experiences.

​The KAWS: FAMILY exhibit continued into the corridor of Galleria Italia.

​Arranged along the length of the corridor were wooden sculptures embodying a similar mahogany tone as its structural elements.

All of the sculptures were centred about KAWS' most notable creation, named "Companion". Maximizing the widespread usage of handheld technology, Augmented Reality was introduced as part of this section. Visitors would open the AGO app and scan a barcode from the nearby info banner to generate a digital display on the empty pedestals.

Many succeeded in obtaining the first display, but did not see success in generating the second.

​Passing through the Henry Moore Sculpture Centre, patrons could visit the final room of the KAWS: FAMILY display.

Source: AGO Website

​Edged in rosy pink and illuminated adequately, the last room featured a shiny NASA edition of "Companion" as its centrepiece.

​At the far end were KAWS-style modifications of Mickey Mouse ("Companion"), the Michelin Man ("Chum"), and Elmo ("BFF"). Along the walls were an abstract nonet and white gold and diamond necklace termed "Untitled (Space Chain)".

​Our journey through the limited-time installation would result in feelings of disappointment and dreariness. Speaking personally, the character had played a nonexistent role in my life besides occasional appearances in the lives of K-Pop idols.

We meandered towards a fixed exhibit afterwards, instigated by my proposal to justify the free admission.

Bewilderment and elation swelled as I entered the room. Landscape paintings of varying sizes were systematically arranged along its walls. Some illustrated the arrival of autumn in an urban setting, while others skillfully captured the playfulness of light on water and rock.

Minimally furnished was the tranquil space, fitted only with hardwood floors, white walls, a few curved chairs, and a skylight. The sheer simplicity of the room(s) allowed the artwork to take centre stage, as they should.

Gazing from one scenery to the next, amazement washed over me: These were all scenes seemingly pulled from my memory!
Some were snippets of winter hiking excursions, others snapshots of my trip to the Atlantic, and another the ominous period between dusk and sundown, where hikers would be urged to rush back to the trail head.

​Impressive it was that these paintings, none of which I had laid eyes on prior to that moment, had transported me back in time, allowing me to relive those moments and wallow in a sense of nostalgia.

​Intentional or not, each room featured faintly different levels of lighting. The room appeared brighter when the paintings had been set during daytime hours, then hazier when the landscapes depicted golden hour. Where winter scenery was displayed, the space evoked warmth, reminiscent of the interior of a chalet.

A fifteen-minute closing announcement sounded at 8:45 PM, interrupted my passionate process of admiration. Slightly reluctant to depart an exhibit I had sourced such striking solace, I dragged my feet back towards the stairwell, ready to descend after a visit to the now-filthy bathrooms. Without a doubt, the landscape exhibit had been far more worthwhile than our initial aim of KAWS.

​A line had formed at Coat Check, presumably originating from an EY networking event that had also concluded at the same time.

After retrieving my many items and bidding farewell, I summoned an Uber for my trip back to the suburbs. The "Shared" option was promised to conserve six dollars; it did, but also tacked on a stuffy, nausea-inducing twenty-five minute detour to Oakville. The decision to be economic was one I had regretted comprehensively. Scrambling to re-assembly my items for the following office day, I miraculously completed preparations by 10:55 PM and slid into bed at 11 PM.