Author: Lorenza Mezzapelle

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Ar(t)chives Arts

My Wife’s (unlikely) Lovers

The amusing history of an 1891 painting of 42 cats

If you have not yet seen Carl Kahler’s My Wife’s Lovers, I urge you to do so.

Commissioned in 1891 by millionaire and philanthropist Kate Birdsall Johnson, the work features her 42 Persian and Angora cats. A mix of kittens and cats stand poised on Rococo furniture while others are sprawled against a lavish velvet curtain.

Painted by Austrian artist Carl Kahler, the work took three years to complete. According to the Portland Art Museum, this is supposedly because he spent months studying them in preparatory sketches and paintings.

The oil painting, which is 6 by 8.5 feet in size, and weighs roughly 227 pounds, depicts the cats to be larger-than-life. And yes, each and every one of the 42 cats, meticulously painted, belonged to Birdssall Johnson. Despite the Portland Art Museum claiming it to be a falsity, many sources such as Architectural Digest and Sotheby’s declare that the work depicts only 42 of the woman’s 350 cats.

According to an article in the New York Post, the elegant and collected cat that stands at the centre of the painting was a US $3,000 cat named Sultan which she bought during a trip to Paris.

According to many sources, such as the New York Post, it is rumoured that the painting was a gift from her husband, Robert C. Johnson, and that he chose the title My Wife’s Lovers. However, Dawson Carr, curator at the Portland Art Museum states that her husband, in fact, died two years prior but adds that it is a possibility he had used the phrase to refer to her collection of cats in the past and that Birdsall Johsnon simply deemed it fitting as a title for the monumental painting.

Birdsall Johnson reportedly paid approximately US $5,000 in 1891 for the work, which is equivalent to around US $143,000 in 2021.

The work was estimated at a value of $200,000 to US $300,000  by Sotheby’s in 2015 and sold at auction for nearly three times its estimate, at US $826,000  by an anonymous buyer in California.

If you didn’t think it was crazy enough that a lady paid over $140,000 for a painting of her cats, just think that someone paid over half a million for cats that didn’t even belong to them. Another rumour even states that she left her cats over US $500,000 in her will.

My Wife’s Lovers has ignited many rumours. Whether false or not, Birdsall Johnson has proven to be the ultimate crazy cat lady.

 

Graphic by Taylor Reddam.

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Ar(t)chives Arts

What is art?

Discussing aesthetics, Dadaism, and intention

Art has long been a disputed form of self-expression. The topic has garnered debate among philosophers, art historians, and artists, and even has an entire Wikipedia page dedicated to its controversiality.

Many jokes and memes have been made around the notion of art’s subjectivity. Books, such as Leo Tolstoy’s What is art? have attempted to answer the question, while Instagram accounts such as freeze_magazine poke fun at and ridicule how absurd the art industry can often be. And you’ve definitely seen the prank where a group of friends placed eyeglasses on the floor of the museum to observe viewers’ reactions and point out how almost anything can be considered art.

This dispute has veered towards problematic for the reason that it ultimately validates an artist’s career. What one might deem to be worth thousands of dollars can be viewed as a piece of old junk to another. We’ve all heard of the stories of someone selling a famous painting for close to nothing in a garage sale, merely because they did not know its “worth.”

So, let’s look at this etymologically. “Art” is derived from the Latin “ars” meaning “acquired skill” or “craft.” In this sense, it is commonly understood that art requires a certain level of skill in order to achieve a desired aesthetic result. Herein lies the problem. “Aesthetic,” like the notion of “beauty,” is inherently subjective.

Dadaism is an ideal example because it, at its core, rejected standard notions of aestheticism and poked fun at art in society. Let’s take, for example, Marcel Duchamp’s Readymades. The acclaimed artist began using and presenting everyday objects as pieces of art. This absurd approach to art-making helped redefine what could be considered art and challenged the idea that art had to be something beautiful and visually appealing. Instead, demonstrating that art could be intellectually appealing.

Constantin Brâncuși’s infamous 1923 work Bird in Space (L’Oiseau dans l’espace) is another prime example of the challenges in defining an object as art. The sculpture faced a number of legal controversies when the artist tried to have it shipped to the United States. Customs officers did not believe that the work was art — art, at the time, was not subject to import taxes — and instead were charged with a 40 per cent tax for “manufactured metal objects.”

According to an article titled Is it Art? published by Harvard Law, after a number of years of legal debate, Brâncuși’s Bird in Space was part of the first court decision stating that “non-representational sculpture could be considered art.” In part, on the basis that the artist intended for the sculpture to resemble the movement of a bird.

Intention brings us back to the eyeglasses meme mentioned earlier. Had the glasses been placed on a coffee table in your home, you wouldn’t have thought much of them. Having been placed on the floor of the gallery, viewers automatically begin to search for a meaning and begin to decipher what they believe the artist’s intention was.

For this reason, art is and will remain subjective. While there may never be one true answer as to what constitutes art, one thing is certain: it is personal, self-informed, and different for everyone. So, what do you consider a work of art?

 

Graphic by Taylor Reddam

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Arts

Artmaking and teaching during the pandemic

Transcendence raises questions about the future of art education

Presented by student-teachers in Concordia’s undergraduate Art Education program, Transcendence explores growth during isolation. The exhibition, which was created for ARTE 432, Community Art Education: Theory and Practice, offers a varied body of work that aims to explore notions of making and teaching, and their effects on one another, during the pandemic.

Showcased with artsteps, an online platform for creating virtual spaces, Transcendence, which opened on Dec. 3, offers viewers an immersive experience. Viewers can interact with the works, which are exhibited in a realistic, simulated gallery-space named Tempo Gallery.

The viewer can make their way around as if they were in a video game. Clicking on an empty patch of grass leads their “player” running to the selected location. Other viewers, or players, can be seen walking around the gallery and its surrounding space.

Maybe this is the future of art-viewing and art making.

The viewer can explore around the outside of the building, which is situated on a waterfront — probably the closest they’ll come to being near the beach for a while.

Around the perimeter of the building, the works of three artists are exhibited. Among them, a multimedia graffiti piece in tones of red, orange, and blue titled Start Where You Are, by Gardenia-Jane Duverger Sarroche.

“Graffiti helps [express] my spontaneous thoughts with the possibility to spray-paint over my written fears and insecurities,” writes Duverger Sarroche in her artist statement. “Starting with scribbled intrusive thoughts on a drawer I found on the streets, I spat colors until I could not perceive my fears anymore.”

Inside the gallery, a series of nine paintings line the first wall. Each one of them features rocks and pebbles balancing atop one another, painted in muted tones of grey, blue, and orange. The digital illustrations, titled Douce Metamorphose, by Pauline Acchab, explore balance and growth.

“Cairns, stacked stones, act as a sign to guide travellers on the right path,” writes Acchab. “The assembled elements, defying the laws of gravity, demonstrate a level of tension with its surroundings while depicting harmony, fragility and stillness.”

Similarly, around the corner, a series of three works by Kassandra Quinteros explore self-growth and development. Braiding Threads is a vibrant photograph featuring a beaded mask worn by a figure who holds and weaves multiple braids in bright purples, yellows, and pinks, which contrast the black background.

“The multitude of threads being braided represents the infinity of information given to me during this academic journey and my personal experiences,” writes Quinteros. “The braid is my way of assembling these threads into one strong creation that defines my own self as a professional and as a person.”

Further into the gallery space, a series of five photographs fills a wall with collage-like images of roads and parking lots. The works, titled Forever Forward, by Rhea Bergeron, all feature a sunset and represent the changes that occur as seasons pass.

“[The sunset moments] could mean that, when a day ends, another begins,” writes Bergeron. “Also, the topic connects to my identity that is constantly changing and evolving throughout the years.”

Be it through Emmanuelle Lemieux’s upcycled papier maché sculptures, Kamila Dube’s mixed media paintings, or Liana Gomes’ photographs and digital illustrations, one thing is certain: self-reflection and experimentation are common themes that have risen as a result of artmaking practices during isolation.

Transcendence makes it clear that isolation is an extraordinary situation which has pushed artists and educators beyond the limits of what is normal. Despite this, these extraordinary measures have allowed for the possibility of creating what could be considered transcendent.

Transcendence will be available for viewing here.

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Arts

Cinetrii merges computer science and film

Your next movie night is about to get a whole lot more interesting

Movie recommendation websites and generator apps rarely produce satisfying results. For the most part, the films recommended either share the exact same cast or are way too similar to be exciting. Well, most recommendation websites.

Cinetrii is designed to establish connections between films. These connections can be anything from recurring themes, motifs, explicit references, and homages. It’s simple interface is easy to use and each search yields a multitude of results.

“The results range from profound to quite spurious, but for certain films with rich discourse surrounding them it works pretty well,” says Nils Everling, creator and founder of Cinetrii. “For example, I am a fan of Michelangelo Antonioni who made a string of great films in the 60s and 70s. Through Cinetrii I found Burning by Chang-dong Lee since critics had compared it to L’Avventura.”

Everling got the idea for Cinetrii after watching a YouTube video wherein the narrator discussed the importance of understanding the lineage and history of art, in all its different forms.

“The subject of the video was a Rihanna song, but it got me interested in exploring the “lineage” of cinema in some way as I’m more of a film nerd,” says Everling. “I was studying computer science at the time, so I thought to apply natural language processing to movie reviews and see what insights could be gained from it.”

While most film recommendations are based on popularity, likes, and ratings, Cinetrii’s algorithm analyzes written critic reviews for a given film; it can recommend works that have been influenced by it and works that have influenced it.

In regards to traditional recommendations systems, Everling says, “While the results can be more consistent, they usually exhibit a strong bias toward the most popular movies, stuff everyone has already seen.”

Instead of recommending popular box-office films, Cinetrii looks for mentions of other films in reviews of a particular film and tries to evaluate whether the mention is interesting, explains Everling.

For example, a search for Taxi Driver will yield The Assassination of Richard Nixon, among others, both old and new. The recommendation links to a 2004 review stating that “The character [of Richard Nixon] is based on a real person and true events which also may have been the inspiration for the similarly named Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver.”

“Two films with intersecting casts are unlikely to make up an interesting connection, a connection will score higher if multiple critics establish it, and so on,” says Everling. “Under the hood there are a sequence of technical problems that have to be solved, like finding reviews, determining which parts of a web page constitute a review of a particular film and resolving references to other films.”

Since finishing his studies in computer science, Everling employs data science in other, less artistic, ways. Cinetrii remains his creative pass time.

“There is plenty to do within Cinetrii still, such as improving the coverage of international films and reviews in other languages,” says Everling, adding that he is in the process of updating the Cinetrii algorithm. “I maintain Cinetrii because I use it myself and it may be of interest to others.”

Everling encourages viewers to reach out via Facebook to let him know if their favourite movie is missing.

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Arts

yolk: bringing Montreal’s literary community together

yolk literary is more than just a publication

“Short. Punchy. Poignant,” says creative director Curtis McRae, when describing the name yolk. “I will say this, though: it didn’t resonate at first.”

A literary journal of non-fiction, poetry, and visual arts, yolk is a Montreal-based digital publication. They have created a multi-faceted, interactive platform where both emerging and established writers can at once be experimental and sophisticated.

“We want to take the beauty of art and translate it into a social arena where individuals can celebrate that beauty together,” says Josh Quirion, Editor-in-Chief.

Their inaugural print issue, released in September, centred around the theme “circles.” However, according to Chelsea Moore, yolk’s managing editor, further issues will not have a theme. Their intent is to release print issues biannually.

According to Alexandre Marceau, fiction editor, the idea behind the magazine originated as Marceau was digitizing Bishop University’s literary journal, The Mitre. He adds that he and his fellow literary-enthusiast friends, McRae and Sean Lee — both masthead members of yolk — were, at the time, having long discussions centered around their place in the literary timeline and what they could do to represent what their generation has to offer.

But with a multitude of digital and print literary magazines constantly surfacing within the market, what sets yolk apart from the rest?

“We’re very much our own,” says Quirion. “I prefer to think of yolk as a literary (cultural) ‘community,’ rather than a literary magazine.”

Very much their own, indeed. Their first event, Egg the Poet, yielded over 70 guests, who gathered at Gham & Dafe, a visual arts centre in Hochelaga. Audience members were invited to throw eggs at the authors and poets as they recited their works.

“Our first event proved that people want more literature — not simply to read words, but to be a part of them — to read, listen, throw eggs, shout, and dance,” says Marceau.

As a result of the great reactions garnered from their first event, their goal is to make Egg the Poet a monthly reading series, once the confinement period is over.

“There’s certainly a desire in Montreal to populate ‘poetic’ spaces, and we want to create one of those spaces,” says Quirion.

In addition to creating a space for the arts and like-minded artists via events, submissions are reviewed anonymously and yolk remains committed to sharing the voices of any individual affected by structural inequality, says Lee, poetry editor and social media manager.

Submitting to journals should be a deliberate and intentional practice, says Quirion, adding that aspiring writers must note that just because a work is good, it doesn’t ultimately mean it is right for a certain publication. He notes that many very good works have been rejected because they didn’t align with yolk’s voice and resonate thematically with the kind of work they aim to curate.

“If you don’t see a space for yourself, your voice, and your art, there’s an opportunity for you to create that space on your own accord,” says Lee.

Submissions for yolk’s second issue will be opening in mid-November. Writers and artists interested in submitting work can find more information on yolk’s website.

 

Photos courtesy of yolk literary.

Simply Scientific: Seasonal Affective Disorder

Why you might get “SAD” when fall rolls around

It’s that time of year again. It’s 6 p.m., you look outside and it’s already almost pitch black. Before you know it, we’ll have reached the dreaded state of perpetual night: waking up and going to sleep while it’s still dark — inevitably, leaving you feeling miserable.

No, you’re not the only one who feels this way… Unfortunately, many of us are feeling it too.

According to the Canadian Mental Health Association, 15 per cent of Canadians will experience a mild form of Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) over the course of their life, while two to three per cent deal with more extreme cases of SAD recurringly.

But, what exactly is Seasonal Affective Disorder?

SAD is a mild form of depression that is relative to the changing of the seasons. It is known to alter mood, emotions, and reduce energy. Ultimately, SAD leaves sufferers feeling lethargic, unmotivated, agitated, and having difficulty sleeping. In more severe cases, it can even cause an onset of suicidal thought and behaviours.

Researchers are still not 100 per cent certain what actually causes SAD. Though it is just a theory, researchers believe this is caused by a lack of sunlight. Changes in the light are known to disturb the circadian rhythm, also known as the sleep-wake cycle, which regulates hormones and other bodily functions such as digestion, mood, and body temperature.

Lack of sunlight may also interfere with the normal operation of neurotransmitter functions, which enable the transmission of serotonin (the happy chemical) and dopamine (the pleasure hormone).

However, contrary to what most people might think, SAD doesn’t only occur in the winter. While it is less common, a more mild case of the disorder has been known to affect people starting in the spring and over the summer months.

Despite the symptoms of SAD being almost identical to those of depression, it is important to note that they are not the same. A key characteristic that defines their differences lies in the nature of SAD, which is subjective to the seasons. A person suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder will experience symptoms for one to two seasons of the year (generally, they will have experienced it for more than two years in order to be diagnosed), whereas someone with depression will exhibit symptoms year-round.

Research has shown that people who live north of the equator are more susceptible to SAD, on account of a decrease in sunlight. Because SAD is caused by an environmental change, many doctors recommend exercise, outdoor exposure and — when it’s too cold to go outside during daylight hours — light therapy. Also known as phototherapy, light therapy consists of using a light box to replicate outdoor light.

If and when you start feeling the unbearable weight of winter affecting your physiological well-being, try engaging in endorphin-releasing activities, exposing yourself to the sun for even just a few minutes, and using these self-care methods to help ease the blow.

 

Feature graphic by @sundaeghost

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News

What has Space Concordia been up to?

The student-run organization is racing to make it into space

Space Concordia is a student-run organization aiming to foster a professional learning environment in which students can develop their skills via experiential learning.

The association is composed of four official divisions: Spacecraft, Rocketry, Robotics, and Space Health, each one with teams that work year-round to develop projects and research.

“We are a big organization, so each member can decide to join the teams that suit their interest[s] and [schooling],” said Vanesa Gonzales, who is in charge of outreach. “Most of the time a new member joins one team under one division. Then, as they understand the project, they can take on more than one role.”

The organization involves interdisciplinary work that is open to students of all academic backgrounds.

But Space Concordia hasn’t made it into space … yet.

“The Rocketry division is working on a rocket that reaches the limitation of the upper atmosphere and space at 420,000 feet. It is going to be tested in May 2021,” said Gonzales.

The rocket they are developing is part of the Base 11 Space Challenge, a contest to be the first student-run group to hit the Kármán Line. The Kármán Line is situated at an altitude of 100 km and defines the boundary between space and Earth.

“Hopefully by May 2021, we will be the first university to make it into space,” said Melize Ferrus, President of Space Concordia.

Until they make it to the final frontier, what’s next for Space Concordia?

“The Robotics division is working on implementing an autonomy software system in their rover,” said Ferrus.

The software would enable the rover to test samples of matter via spectroscopy, which is used to study the molecular composition of a sample. In this case, the sample would be soil, allowing for them to see if it is feasible to sustain life on other planets.

“We would like to continue developing technologies for remote medicine that can be applied on Earth or [in] space,” said Gonzales.

The Space Health division will continue to do so via Project 1.0, which involves researching the body’s response to force changes by studying the effects of gravity on the heart long-term. The project will be tested on a rocket made by the Rocketry division.

Project 2.0 is to develop a simulated cardiovascular system to study Orthostatic Hypertension, a medical condition characterized by a sudden increase in blood pressure when a person stands up.

But don’t let the words ‘space’ and ‘engineering’ turn you away from Space Concordia. According to Ferrus, not all members are in exclusively STEM fields. Past and current team members have been students enrolled in Communications, the Faculty of Fine Arts, and the John Molson School of Business.

“We want to be an organization that fosters creativity in any way, and creativity rears its head in many different facets,” said Ferrus. “It doesn’t matter what your skill level is. By the time you leave, it won’t be your skill level anymore. We’re happy to foster new talent.”

For more information about Space Concordia visit http://www.spaceconcordia.ca.

Visuals courtesy of Space Concordia.

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Arts

Last and First Men: a warning to humankind

Not your usual sci-fi movie

“Listen patiently.” Tilda Swinton’s voice reverberates against an orchestral score while the camera pans out on a sculptural installation. Then, the screen goes black.

Directed by Jóhann Jóhannsson and originally released in 2017 prior to his passing, Last and First Men, presented by the Festival du nouveau cinéma, is not your average sci-fi movie.

Based on Olaf Stapledon’s 1930 science-fiction novel Last and First Men: A Story of the Near and Far Future, the film tells a message from billions of years into the future. The message is an alert to humanity, warning them of their inevitable extinction.

If you’re looking for an action-packed sci-fi movie, this is not it.

The experience resembled that of watching a nature documentary (Swinton might just be David Attenborough’s female counterpart). Her narration, which is similar to a dramatic audiobook reading, spans the length of the film and can be heard over the liturgical-style instrumental music composed by Jóhannsson himself.

The film offers an abstract anecdote of a post-apocalyptic world; there is no acting, there are no characters. Throughout the film, the camera pans over grayscale futuristic architectural details and archaeological sites. The stark architectural elements, which are socialist-era monuments and can be recognized as Spomeniks from the former Yugoslavia, contrast Swinton’s smooth voice. Her narration is at once compelling and deadpan.

Like watching a documentary or walking through an exhibition gallery, Last and First Men requires full and undivided attention. Jóhannsson’s film captures what it means for a film to be considered art.

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Arts

A conversation with Kent Monkman

The artist discusses his exhibition and Canadian history

Thousands of people from around the globe tuned in to a Zoom session held on Sept. 26, 2020 to listen to Kent Monkman speak. The interdisciplinary Cree artist is known for his provocative works, which explore themes of sexuality and colonization as a means of retelling contemporary Indigenous experiences.

Presented in partnership with Indspire and the Museum of Anthropology (MOA) at the University of British Columbia, the live discussion covered topics surrounding Indigeneous and Canadian art, reconciliation, and Monkman’s exhibition Shame and Prejudice: A Story of Resilience.

Indspire is a national Indigenous charity that invests in the education of First Nations, Inuit, and Métis people. By partnering with Indigenous private and public sector stakeholders, they “educate, connect and invest in First Nations, Inuit and Métis people so they will achieve their highest potential.”

The conversation was mediated by Roberta Jamieson, the President and CEO of Indspire — and the first Indigenous woman to earn a law degree in Canada — and Jennifer Kramer, Curator, at the MOA, whose work focuses on First Nations visual culture and with First Nations on the Pacific Northwest coast.

“I never set out, as an artist, to be an educator, but I certainly found myself stepping into that role with [Shame and Prejudice] because the erasure of these colonial policies was so effective that most Canadians are still in the dark,” said Kent Monkman at the virtual conference.

His exhibition, which was on display at the McCord Museum during the spring of 2019, revisits Canadian and Indigenous history through the eyes of Monkman’s gender-fluid alter-ego, Miss Chief Eagle Testickle. His book of the same name guides readers through the history of New France and the dispossession of Indigenous lands through Canadian colonial policies.

Accompanied by historical artefacts, his paintings and installations reinterpret, and make reference to, a multitude of well-known works, artists, and significant objects. Among his references is Caravaggio’s renowned 1604-06 Death of the Virgin, which depicts the Virgin Mary lying on her deathbed.

In Monkman’s version of the piece, titled Death of the Virgin (After Caravaggio), he swaps the Virgin Mary for a First Nations woman. In his 2016 work, The Daddies, Miss Chief Eagle Testickle poses on an iconic Hudson’s Bay blanket, surrounded by Canada’s founding fathers, leaving the viewer to raise questions about Confederation.

“I wanted to touch on very specific chapters of the last 150 years because so much of the art history told on this continent is told from the settler perspective and the art that’s upheld and hung in our colonial institutions, effectively, is an erased version; it’s like a version that omits Indigenous perspective and Indigenous experience,” said Monkman.

“That was what this project really set out to do, was to canonize and to authorize, into this history of the continent, Indigenous experience, both contemporary and historical.”

A Talk with Kent Monkman is available for viewing on Indspire’s YouTube channel here.

 

Photos courtesy of Chloë Lalonde

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Arts

Dear art industry, it’s not me … it’s you

Reflecting on art, post-lockdown

In the past six months, I have not visited a single art show, gallery opening, exhibition, or museum. Perhaps this is the longest amount of time I’ve gone without reading press releases, interviewing artists, or trying to find some sort of sociopolitical angle to approach an exhibition from. Yet, I have to admit… I kind of like it.

After spending the majority of lockdown being out of a job like many others, I have had tons of time to think about the art industry, which I have honestly always been quite hesitant to be a part of. After racking my brain about the place art holds in society, both amidst chaos and mundanity — and participating in both an internship and residency, alongside many other writers and artists, for the better part of the summer months — it is safe to say, I am not the only one who feels this way.

I do not believe this is solely a reflection on my evolving relationship with the art industry as a result of personal values. Rather, it’s a reflection on the circumstances that have caused the relationship itself to change. It has become clear that many others, and myself, are hesitant to make a career out of this. Not because we do not love art, but, well, because the industry doesn’t appear to love us.

The past few months have been eye-opening, to say the least. Among the things that have been on my mind is pay. When artists and writers are going unpaid for work that continues to get published, how can we be expected to stay? The fact that I get paid more (and on time) by student media is a poor reflection on the many institutions that hire writers and artists.

And don’t get me wrong, I’m aware that these were all issues before lockdown began. However, lockdown seems to have brought these issues to the forefront for most non-essential workers, many of whom have been struggling to get by (and many of whom struggle to get by, even pre-lockdown, without the help of a second, more stable job).

How can we not struggle when getting a decent job within the industry requires years of experience and multiple internships under our belts?

If it weren’t for the fact that I’m fortunate enough to still live at home, I wouldn’t have been able to participate in any of my internship experiences, all of which were unpaid. Even still, I had to work other jobs and pull seven-day work weeks to afford transport, cell phone bills, and other necessities.

Upon returning to work in July as a copywriter for an international online luxury retail platform, I was told by a coworker ten years my senior that I had made a great decision in opting to drop my second major in Art History. They added that even after ten years in the industry, they still hadn’t been awarded a raise or promotion and noted that I’d still be able to work in the arts because “it’s all about networking anyway,” and I’d “already made [my] contacts.” It is a sad reality, but a reality nonetheless. Years of studying and dedication won’t guarantee you a position unless you meet the right people. I guess that’s business, baby, as they say.

But even when you do land a position, where does this place you amidst today’s uncertainty and ever-evolving technological landscape?

With museums and galleries being closed for the greater portion of the summer, and exhibitions moving online, the role of museums was inevitably brought into question. What purpose do they serve when one can now access the entirety of most major collections from anywhere in the world for free? The value of these “prestigious” institutions seem … almost, dare I say … questionable.

Despite it all, art remains one of my favorite sociocultural forms of expression, and art writing one of my favorite types of journalism. I guess you could say it’s a love-hate relationship. While switching majors has proven to be a more viable option for me, based on my personal career goals, art journalism is still a long-term goal of mine. Until then, leaders of the art industry, you have some work to do.

 

Graphic by Rose-Marie Dion

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News

Canada’s first BioHub opens at Concordia University

District 3’s co-working lab merges science and business

Where can scientists who are looking to bring their research to life go? District 3 has opened a state-of-the-art BioHub at Loyola Campus. The BioHub features wet and dry laboratories and a collaborative working space, with the goal of equipping researchers with the necessary tools for finding their research-market fit.

Based out of Concordia, District 3 offers programs and services for experiential learning. Through a collaborative business model, they aim to foster innovation, form communities, and have a global reach.

“The BioHub was created so that scientists can build their prototypes and products by having access to a state-of-the-art wet lab,” said Xavier-Henri Hervé, the Co-Founder and Executive Director of District 3 Innovation Centre. “Through our programs and coaching, they also gain the knowledge, skills, and network to build a viable business with the potential for global impact in biotech and healthcare.”

Through various programs, such as the Launch & Grow Program, District 3 enables scientific entrepreneurs to build their product, assess their place in the market, and “scale their startup for global impact,” via one-on-one coaching, workshops, and access to labs.

“Many scientists want to have an impact through their research,” said Ana Fernandez, PhD Life Sciences and BioHub Coordinator at the District 3 Innovation Centre. “Entrepreneurship gives them an outlet to have a faster and more direct impact through commercialization of their research.”

Co-founded by Collin Horner and Claudia Penafuerte, Cura Therapeutics is a BioHub startup in the Launch & Grow Program. They are focusing on developing innovative immunotherapies to cure cancer and infectious diseases that prevent relapses and disrupt tumours’ blood supplies.

“[Cura Therapeutics’] technologies harness cytokines to create multi-functional proteins with potent anti-cancer and anti-viral properties,” explained Penafuerte. Cytokines are signaling molecules that regulate immunity by stimulating the movement of cells towards an infected area.

Our Immunotherapy can be used alone or in combination with a wide range of targeted therapies or cell-based therapies” said Penafuerte.

Cura Therapeutics recently announced the closing of their $1.55 million pre-seed financing round. Pre-seed funding, which takes place early on in the stage of product development, is money raised to help develop prototypes of products.

“Building a biotech startup is extremely challenging and requires people with different specialties to succeed,” said Horner. “An ecosystem is everything; having the support from District 3 is invaluable for us.”

Open to all scientific entrepreneurs in Quebec and across Canada, District 3 will help from the beginning of their idea, all the way through to the final stage of building a business with a global impact.

“At District 3, we are building the backend for the burgeoning bioeconomy through collisions with talent, research, government and industry,” said Hervé. “Our vision is for Quebec and Canada to be global leaders in this revolution.”

The BioHub Program begins Oct. 12, 2020. Scientific entrepreneurs completing or holding a Masters, PhD, or Postdoctoral degree in STEM fields can apply at district3.co/program/biohub/.

 

Graphic by Lily Cowper.

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Arts

The Broken Hearts Gallery: The art of holding on (and letting go)

The Concordian staff discuss what items they’d include in the Broken Hearts Gallery

Lucy is, to be quite frank, a hoarder. Every imaginable surface of her room is covered with a bauble or an ornament. She sees everything as a piece of art: her bookshelf is lined with trinkets — so much so that you cannot really see her books — and a selection of random items are taped and pinned to her walls. These items, however, are not as random as they may seem upon first glance. They all have one thing in common: each item is a souvenir from a past relationship.

I guess you could say Lucy has some trouble letting go.

Directed by Natalie Krinsky, The Broken Hearts Gallery follows a New York City gallery assistant, Lucy Gulliver (Geraldine Viswanathan), as she curates an exhibition consisting exclusively of mementos, souvenirs, and knick knacks from past relationships.

While by no means a cinematographic masterpiece, and despite its ending being obvious within the first 15 minutes of the movie, it’s predictability lent itself to being a somewhat comforting, feel-good film — in the same way that most cheesy rom-coms are.

That being said, its exaggerated attempt at creating a romantically-inclined protagonist, alongside the incredibly loose and ill-defined use of the word “relationship,” led many questions to cross my mind throughout the duration of the film.

Among them, how is Lucy able to fill her room with mementos from all the people she has dated? And why is she heartbroken after seeing someone for a little over a month? Ultimately, leading my cynical self to think: No wonder she is miserable and if she is always that devastated after only a few weeks … maybe she shouldn’t be dating.

Despite these shortcomings, the film did yield many relatable moments which offered opportunities for a good laugh. Subsequently, this made me forget the apathetic questions I’d been asking myself throughout its duration, and the irritation I often felt towards Lucy’s overt optimism.

One question, however, did remain at the back of my mind: What item would I include in the Broken Hearts Gallery?

Here is The Concordian staff’s very own Broken Hearts Gallery:

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Lorenza Mezzapelle, Arts Editor

I only have one item remaining from past relationships: a stuffed toy duck. My two dogs use it as a toy now. Do with that information what you will. Depending on how loosely we are applying the term “relationship,” I have a roll of unused black and white film that was gifted to me over a year ago… it’s probably expired. I guess the toy duck is what I’d exhibit, chew marks, drool, and all.

Elyette Levy, Assistant Commentary Editor

Maybe the matching phone case I got us on a whim one day. We were both very spontaneous people, and I think that’s a bit what that represents to me: having fun by doing things on impulse. I also really like to tell people I got it for $8 at Lionel-Groulx metro.

Chloë Lalonde, Creative Director

I’ve been in a relationship for the past seven years. But from before that, I’m pretty sure I have a stuffed Spider-Man somewhere in my parents house (too iconic to get rid of). And if deep, ex-friendships count, I have a pink flowery mug and a little wooden tray that goes along with it, which still hurts to look at. There used to be a spoon and a little teapot-shaped infuser, but the spoon broke and I lost the infuser. That would be what I’d exhibit, I think.

Michelle Lam, Social Media Manager

My partner and I recently separated. For my birthday last year, he gave me a necklace that I’ve been wearing ever since. Maybe one day, if I have it in my heart to take it off, I will include it in the Broken Hearts Gallery.

Hadassah Alencar, News Editor

I’ve been with my partner now for 10 years, married for eight of those years, so I really had to dig around my house to find something for this gallery. After all my Marie Kondoing last year the only memorabilia I can find is a hard cover, comic book version of The Little Prince, given to me by an ex in the beginning of a relationship that just wasn’t meant to be.

Christine Beaudoin, Photo Editor

I’ve been in a relationship for the past three years. Before that, I spent several years as a single lady. During that time, I moved a lot, so all I have left from my past relationships are Facebook photos taken with Mac’s photo booth application. Applying rainbow-coloured filters, we made weird faces and kissed in front of the screen. For this gallery, I think I would have one of those printed and framed.

Lillian Roy, Editor-in-Chief 

I have a USB-key full of pictures from my first serious relationship that I couldn’t bring myself to permanently delete. While I could care less about looking through it now, I hope to stumble upon it one day as an old lady. I’ll spend a lovely afternoon getting tipsy and looking back on old memories.

Rose-Marie Dion, Graphics Editor

Last semester, I was in Melbourne, Australia for a student exchange and sadly had to come back earlier than expected due to the current situation. While I was over there, I went on a date to see a movie at this cute movie theater down the street from where I was living. I kept the movie ticket and put it in my travel journal. Everytime I see it, the first thing that comes to my mind is: aahh, what could have been.

Maggie Morris, Head Copy Editor

I ended a three-year-long relationship a couple years ago when I went back home to Ottawa for Christmas. When I got back to my apartment in Montreal a month later, I got wine drunk and took down all the photos I had framed and hung around my apartment of the two of us. I couldn’t bring myself to throw them out, and wanted to keep the memories (just, not on display to look at every day) so I bought a pretty box and filled it with the photos. I keep it on a bookshelf; there if I ever need to reminisce.

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