Chantal Kreviazuk is having a dog day afternoon. In other words, she's taking a break from walking her beloved munsterlander Chanty in a Toronto park to talk about her upcoming Halifax concerts, at the Rebecca Cohn Auditorium tonight and Friday.

Cellphones can be wonderful things although Chanty, whose breeding makes her a born hunter and chaser, takes advantage of her mistress's divided attention to join in on a nearby soccer game.

"There's only about 200 of them in North America, but there's a breeder north of Toronto. Basically it was the only dog my husband and I could agree on," laughs Kreviazuk, referring to her other half, Our Lady Peace vocalist Raine Maida.

"They're part pointer, part retriever, part spaniel. She's lovely."

Kreviazuk points out that the dog's name, Chanty, was a fluke. It had been named by the breeder, which cinched the deal to take her home. It's just another example of the kind of good fortune that's followed the platinum-selling singer through her career, which took off when Sony Music signed her to a million-dollar contract before she'd even played a show.

Even bad luck can pay off in her favour. On her second album, Colour Moving and Still, Kreviazuk decided to record at home in Toronto after spending a fortune making her debut in the U.S. Unfortunately, immigration officials had other ideas and sent her producer Jay Joyce back home to the States after only two weeks.

The result is a record that has a stripped-down, Plastic Ono Band feel, with the focus on Kreviazuk's remarkable voice and soul-searching songs.

The record doesn't sound rushed or sparse, although tunes like the irresistible single Before You and the forlorn Far Away have a sense of urgency that's missing from a lot of pop songs.

"What should have been a month-long session turned into a two-week session, and with five days left I thought we'd never get it done," she sighs. "But Jay says 'Don't worry, we'll get done as much as we can, and we can overdub it later.'

"But of course no one did overdubbing later, it was done. We sent it to the mixer, and that was that. It wasn't exactly the way I'd planned it. There should have been more overdubs, but am I upset about it? No."

In retrospect, Kreviazuk is happier about the way the album turned out than she was when she was making it, and realizes the process helps the songs stand out and sound a little less conventional than they might have with further studio tweaking.

"On today's records there's so much processing and auto-tuning going on, but Colour Moving and Still is an organic piece, it's an art piece," she explains. "I don't know if I want to make any more art pieces. I want to keep aspects of Colour Moving and Still on future records, but if your record doesn't get airplay no one's going to end up hearing it. I would rather the world have something it can grab onto and still appreciate the artistic side instead of just being so proud and saying 'I HAVE to have an art piece!'

"I've done that. I can do that in my living room for my friends and family.

"I can rent out a church and do that if I want to. But I also have a lot of affection for pop songs, so I don't mind making a pop record. A lot of my new stuff is more poppy, but there'll always be some pieces that are more artsy and abstract and moving. I can't get away from that part of me."

Kreviazuk's solo shows at the Cohn may also feature a guest appearance by her opening act, Quebec cellist Jorane. Their pairing on tour came about through sharing the same booking agent, but Kreviazuk says her early attempts at new material for her third CD have included the sound of that most supple and seductive member of the string section.

"I just did some demos, and we added a little cello to a few of the songs," she says. "They're demos and they sound like works in progress - my husband was helping me out - but just putting on a little bit of cello is key to making them sound a little more complete.

"Even a keyboard cello sound just adds a certain texture, you know?"

Fans may get to hear some of those new compositions, like the song G.I. Joe, which comes from Kreviazuk's experiences with War Child Canada, an organization designed to help alleviate the suffering of those in areas of conflict.

A trip with Maida in February to Iraq and Sierra Leone was filmed for a special on MuchMusic. It proved to be too much of an eye-opener not to write about it.

"Iraq looks different, the air is different, the structures are different, EVERYthing's different," says Kreviazuk with a note of wonder. "I've been to Japan and a lot of other places, but this is a different world. I really didn't feel like I was on planet Earth.

"Iraqis are some of the nicest people I've ever met, and I learned the valuable lesson that there are no bad countries, only bad leaders. Here in the Western world we watch a little bit of television and we think we know what's going on. We don't. These people do not support that government, but they have no choice.

"They tried to have an uprising at the end of the Gulf War, and the West wasn't there for them. They got slaughtered, in the south. There are families there with no fathers or brothers, and in some areas where people were against Hussein, he made sure that their hospitals went without aid. We're talking about a country where the soccer team, when it lost in the finals, the star players were tortured for 40 days."

It's a sobering thought, one that makes the world of pop music suddenly seem very distant, and the line goes silent for an instant, before the sound of barking informs us that Chanty is trying to score a breakaway in the soccer game nearby.

Kreviazuk has to go fetch her pet and get ready to take visiting family members to the U2 concert later that night. Sometimes good fortune comes in the form of those everyday things we don't appreciate until we see life from a different perspective.

By: Stephen Cooke