The Penguin: Ottawa’s Small Club with Big Nights

Nestled on Elgin Street in Centretown, Ottawa, The Penguin was a small, but influential live music venue during the late 1980s and throughout the 1990s. Despite its modest size, it attracted a remarkable range of touring acts across rock, blues, jazz, and alternative music. Concert databases and historical accounts show that the club hosted artists such as Blue Öyster Cult, the Jim Rose Circus, Tori Amos, and Béla Fleck. The Penguin earned a reputation as a stop for touring musicians who wanted a more intimate connection with their audience, and for local music fans, it became a hub of discovery where every night promised something unexpected.

Part of the club’s charm lay in its atmosphere and attention to detail. Upper Canada beers flowed from the taps, including the rare dark ale that few other Ottawa venues offered on draft. Low ceilings, close seating, and proximity to the stage created a space where performances felt immediate, every note and improvisation amplified by the intimacy of the room.

I moved to Ottawa permanently in the early 1990s, having developed both professional and personal connections over the preceding years. Friends like Bruce, who knew all the city’s best bars, clubs, and restaurants, introduced me to the vibrant local music scene, and The Penguin quickly became a favourite of ours.

Some of my most vivid memories are of nights when artists I admired personally played there. Steve Hackett, the former Genesis guitarist, performed in August 1992. I remember him alternating between electric and acoustic guitars, and at one point he sat on the stage to play an extended classical acoustic passage that seemed to suspend time in the room.

A few years later, in October 1994, I saw The Jazz Passengers at The Penguin, joined by Debbie Harry. The combination of New York City avant-garde jazz and Harry’s iconic voice created a one-of-a-kind performance. The room was alive with energy and unpredictability, and the intimacy of the venue made every note feel immediate. The band started playing and Bruce and I looked at each other “Is that Blondie’s Rapture?” And sure enough Harry walks out onto the stage! 

Cassandra Wilson’s performance during her 1994 tour supporting Blue Light ’til Dawn remains unforgettable. Walking onto the stage in a dark blue sheer dress, she filled the room with a smoky, folk-infused jazz sound that left the audience mesmerized. While I have not yet confirmed the exact date in archival newspapers, the memory of that evening, her voice, the hush in the crowd, the room’s energy remains vivid decades later. I did send Ms. Wilson a note requesting confirmation of the date, and she replied that she would check for me, so stay tuned. 

The Penguin was more than just a club; it was a space where small details: a well-poured local ale, the room’s acoustics, the proximity to the stage, combined with talent to create nights that linger long in memory. For musicians and fans alike, it transformed ordinary evenings into stories worth telling, a testament to the intimate magic that only a club like The Penguin could produce.

Sources:
• Pollstar listings (1994 tour notices) showing Cassandra Wilson listed for Ottawa/Penguin dates and related dates.
• Crowd-sourced concert archives and venue listings for The Penguin, including setlists showing Steve Hackett at The Penguin, Aug 22, 1992, and Deborah (Debbie) Harry with The Jazz Passengers at The Penguin, Oct 11, 1994.  

Jeff Beck: Redefining the Electric Guitar

“Performing This Week… Live at Ronnie Scott’s” by Jeff Beck is my absolute favourite live album, and there is rarely a month goes by without it being played or watched at home. While there are many outstanding modern guitarist, this is why Jeff Beck is top of my list. 

Jeff Beck’s claim to the title of the finest modern guitarist rests on four pillars. He altered the vocabulary of the electric guitar. He bridged genres without compromise. He proved, live and on record, that virtuosity can serve melody. He earned the reverence of institutions and peers who rarely agree. Few players changed how the instrument could sound and feel across so many eras, while refusing to be boxed in by fashion or formula.

The breakthrough arrived fast. With the Yardbirds in 1965 and 1966, Beck used the electric guitar as a sound design tool, not just a solo voice. On Heart Full of Soul he bypassed an actual sitar, and bent a fuzzed-out Stratocaster line into something convincingly raga-like, helping introduce Indian inflections to British rock radio. Shapes of Things pushed further, with controlled feedback and an Eastern scale that many historians now tag as a first true psychedelic rock single. Those records did not copy American blues forms. They mutated them, igniting a new language of sustain, noise and melody that others would chase for years.   

Beck’s solo debut Truth, cut in 1968 with Rod Stewart and Ronnie Wood, turned that language into shock therapy. It was a heavy, spacious record that foreshadowed the architecture of Led Zeppelin, and the rise of hard rock on both sides of the Atlantic. Tracks such as Beck’s Bolero and the reimagined Shapes of Things pointed toward the sonic mass that would soon be called heavy metal, yet they kept dynamics and drama at the center. The result was less a genre template than a manifesto about force and finesse.    

Then he changed course again. Blow by Blow in 1975 and Wired in 1976 reshaped the commercial prospects of instrumental music. Beck applied blues phrasing to jazz-rock structures with George Martin in the producer’s chair, landing a platinum instrumental LP and a No. 4 slot on the Billboard 200. Fusion could be lyrical rather than clinical, and the guitar could carry an entire album without a singer. Those records did not just broaden a fan base. They expanded the market for instrumental rock and set a standard that fusion and rock guitarists still measure against.    

Technique made those pivots possible. Beck abandoned the pick, playing with fingers that plucked and snapped strings while the right hand worked the Stratocaster’s vibrato arm and the volume knob in real time. He could swell a note into the mix like a violinist, then smear its pitch with a glissando that mimicked slide guitar, or tease harmonics into vocal shapes. This was not gear-driven flash. It was touch, control and micro-dynamics turned into grammar. Many great players mastered the how of speed and articulation. Beck mastered the why of phrasing, timbre and breath.    

The stage confirmed it. The 2007 Ronnie Scott’s residency in London remains a benchmark for modern guitar performance. Backed by Vinnie Colaiuta and Tal Wilkenfeld, Beck moved from lyrical balladry to feral fusion without breaking the spell of melody. The set list stretched across his career, yet everything sounded current because the tone lived at his fingertips, not in presets. It was a masterclass in restraint and risk, caught on a live album and film that have become essential study texts for working guitarists.   

Recognition followed the work, not the other way around. Beck is a two-time Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee, first with the Yardbirds in 1992 and again as a solo artist in 2009. He holds the record for the most wins in the Grammy category that best maps his lane, Best Rock Instrumental Performance, and earned eight Grammys in total. These honors matter here because they span decades and styles. Institutions often lag behind innovation. In Beck’s case they kept pace, acknowledging that his instrumental music moved listeners and players alike.     

Influence is the last measure. Beck shaped how guitarists think about feel. The modern vocabulary of fingerstyle electric lead, of singing vibrato-arm inflection, of volume-knob dynamics used as composition, owes him a debt. The tributes that poured in at his passing were notable less for celebrity and more for specificity. Players did not just say he was great. They cited the details of his touch and control that they had tried, and failed, to replicate. That is the quiet test of greatness. When the best explain what makes someone singular, and the explanation centers on the unteachable, the case is closed.   

Call it a contest on taste if necessary, but if the criteria are innovation, breadth, touch, live authority and a recorded legacy that keeps revealing new corners, the verdict is clear. Jeff Beck did not simply play the guitar. He reinvented it every decade he held one.

Sources:
Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Jeff Beck inductee profile.
Grammy.com. Jeff Beck artist page.
Associated Press. Obituary and career overview.
Guitar Player. How to Play Guitar Like Jeff Beck.
Premier Guitar. Jeff Beck and the Magic Volume Knob.
Guitar World. Jeff Beck whammy bar and slide phrasing.
Wikipedia. Blow by Blow album page. Chart position and certification.
Ultimate Classic Rock. Yardbirds’ Shapes of Things.
Wikipedia. Heart Full of Soul. Raga influence and fuzz usage.
Guitar Player. Truth retrospective.
MusicRadar. Beck’s Bolero feature.
Live at Ronnie Scott’s album page.
A Green Man Review. Ronnie Scott’s live review.