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What even is a V-6?

Demystifying the strange culture of indoor bouldering and the notorious bouldering bro.

First impression: it smells like feet in here. 

Walking into an indoor climbing gym is a bit like stepping off the spaceship onto another planet. The air is heavy with the unmistakable odour of sweaty feet, the walls are adorned with brightly coloured holds in all shapes and sizes, and—hey, what’s up with all the man buns? 

Even if you’ve never experienced the climbing gym first-hand, chances are high you’ve heard about indoor bouldering. It’s inescapable: Brie Larson is doing it, the guy behind you in class can’t stop talking about it, and climbing wall photos seem to have replaced the Tinder fish photo (if you don’t know what fish photo I’m referring to, consider yourself lucky.)

For those who have managed to escape the discourse, indoor bouldering refers to free-climbing artificial rock walls on which “problems” have been set. These problems are graded on a V-scale of difficulty from V-0 to V-17, hence why you might hear someone bragging about the crazy V-6 they flashed last weekend.

As bouldering takes the spotlight, so does a very specific archetype: the bouldering bro. Who is this notorious figure, and does he bring a bad name to the climbing community?

“When I picture somebody who boulders, it’s the beanies, man buns and skinny, patchwork-tattooed arms that come to mind first, as you will never enter a bouldering gym and not see that guy,” said Simon Bowrin, a first-year Concordia student who has been climbing for roughly a year. 

There’s a certain mentality that can accompany climbing, a pretentiousness that is prevalent in any scene. Like film bros and skater boys, the archetype goes beyond the “look.” There’s also that attachment to obscure jargon, a set of overlapping interests, and immense bravado. Bouldering bros are the ones squinting up at the wall with their hands coated in chalk, talking loudly about their life-changing hiking trek and their ever-growing Nalgene collection.

Those archetypes are real, although their existence doesn’t consume the scene.  “Like every subculture, there’s the stereotypical people out there ruining the reputation of the sport for the 90 per cent of kind people who participate,” said Bowrin.

In truth, the vast majority of the scene is welcoming and non-judgemental. People of all demographics intermingle, and you might see someone attempting their first V-0 right beside someone jumping for a V-8. This can be intimidating, but also inspiring; bouldering is unique in that it’s an extremely easy sport to break into. Most gyms provide shoe rentals, and bouldering can be quite social as people observe each other’s technique and chat about how best to complete a problem. There are also countless physical and mental benefits of the sport itself, as it provides a full-body workout with problem-solving aspects involved. 

In each Concordia Student Union agenda (distributed at the beginning of the year), there are coupons for a free try at Café Bloc, a climbing gym on St Laurent. So bring a friend and go check it out—beware of the bouldering bro, but keep in mind he doesn’t define the culture. 

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You call this a supply store?

Concordia’s art store puts the pain in painting.

The DeSerres employee is tired of seeing my face. That’s the only way to explain his eyebrow raise as I trudge into the Atwater station art supply store for the tenth time this week. He’s seen it all, from my frantic rush to find oil paints 30 minutes before my first class to the avalanche of pastels I caused in the third aisle. He hasn’t seen the last of me, though—I’m beginning to think I’ll spend more of this semester in the DeSerres than I will in the studio. 

My loyalty to the business is caused by necessity, not by choice. Professors stress the importance of well-sourced materials, but a lack of viable options forces students to take what they can get. At the start of the semester, I hoped I would be able to furnish my supply needs entirely through Concordia’s art store (for those who aren’t aware, the art store is located in the basement of the LB building, just past the bookstore) as I assumed it would be the most affordable and accessible option. A single visit proved my assumption wrong: I discovered high prices and a shocking lack of stock. With the store missing even the basics, I turned to the next logical option. 

Of course, supporting a chain store is not ideal. It is important to be proud of where your materials come from and the resources you use to create your work. Buying from smaller local shops is always possible, but many small businesses are out of the way (and therefore inconvenient for frequent visits) or overpriced. Artists—especially student artists—are short on time and money as is. “I think it’s ironic that the main resource for art supplies on campus isn’t budget friendly,” says Andrea Chenier, a third-year studio art and art history major. 

At the same time, buying required books is alarmingly easy. At the bookstore, reading material is organized in alphabetical order in sleek stacks, which makes finding books a breeze. If a book is on your syllabus, it’s likely to be at the bookstore. Used books are displayed at a reduced price, ensuring a second option for those who don’t want to spend too much. Why, then, does the same system not apply at the art store? Surely, stock should be determined by demand—and this demand is high across the demographic. With Concordia being a university well-known for its fine arts programs, and Montréal being a city renowned for its art scene, our lack of options is pitiful. 

A better-stocked art store may seem like a frivolous wish, but it would improve the artistic processes of countless students. A well-rounded art store means less stress and less money spent. Most of all, it means far less time at DeSerres. But while I’m here, should I get a points card? Might as well.

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Rise and fall of the corporate bookstore

As bookstore chains go under, let’s dust indie alternatives off the shelves.

Bookstores have always been my favourite places on earth. Every shop has something different to offer, whether that be ancient annotated paperbacks, rows of pristine colour-coordinated hardcovers, stray cats in the window, or a piano in the back. Where small businesses may lack stock or organization, they make up for it with charm and personality. But when local bookshops and big chains are forced to battle it out, who will ultimately win?  

The answer may surprise you. Since the early 2000s, it has seemed like independent bookstores are racing toward extinction with the rising popularity of online shopping and the prevalence of chains such as Indigo. In recent years, however, there is a growth trend in favour of independent bookstores. Interestingly, it’s the big names that are struggling: Indigo lost $50 million last year following cyber-attack issues, and the company appears to be falling apart as their management struggles to regain control. 

In comparison, independent booksellers across Canada have reported booming sales as readers flock to their doors in search of something more. These bookstores give readers that extra something: a sense of community. Walking into a small shop is more personal and deliberate, as it forces you to confront the humanness of everyone sharing the space, and you feel obliged to take real care when handling the books. Supporting these businesses is essential to ensure they stay with us for many years.

The Word, located within walking distance of McGill, is one example of a local bookstore to enjoy. The space is vividly personal with its pleasantly cramped interior and impressive turnover of over a hundred new titles each day. “I think what’s good about these kinds of stores, but even more with bookstores is that when you walk in, there’s a sense of passion,” said Scott Moodie, who has been working at The Word for the past 32 years.

Luckily, you can find this passion everywhere in Montréal bookstores. Here are a few of my favourites, and what makes them so special: 

Drawn & Quarterly: A familiar favourite, this bookshop specializes in graphic novels and hosts frequent readings. I love it for its bright decor and open feel. 

Encore Books & Records: My go-to! It’s a bit out of the way, but so worth it. The bright blue exterior will immediately pull you in, and you won’t escape–it’s hard to pull away from the rooms of books and fun record collection. 

Phoenix Books: If you’re at Encore, might as well check out Phoenix just down the road! The space is small but uncluttered, and they often host performances. The owner is super kind and always willing to help you find a book. 

Librairie Henri Julien: A funky little gem, this one satisfies your need for organized chaos with teetering stacks of books and colourful murals. 

Though chain bookstores have their advantages, in my mind the small dusty bookstores will always win. All Indigos are the same, but each small bookstore is different—you never know what treasures you’ll find.

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