“So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was a hurricane.”
It’s 2014, a 16-year-old Youmna reads these words for the first time, and her mind is blown.
Alaska Young, from Looking for Alaska, is played by the beautiful Kaya Scodelario in her mind, blowing out cigarette smoke, talking about the endless labyrinth of suffering, and wanting to die.
Alaska Young smells of vanilla, and cigarettes, with curves in all the right places. She’s carefree, she’s mysterious, she’s promiscuous. She’s a John Green fantasy Youmna wants to embody.
Fast-forward to 2019, a 21-year-old Youmna wants to kick her 16 year-old self in the face.
This summer, finding no solace in the myriad of new books I purchased at my local library, I decided to read John Green’s critically acclaimed novel, for the umpteenth time. I remember it as my favourite book during my formative high school years. That, and The Great Gatsby (more on that in next week’s column). Let’s just say, a lot of disillusionment happened during these past couple of months.
As I read through what I once believed to be an enigmatic novel, I slowly but surely felt my face form into a rictus at every word, every description, every one of Green’s attempts to paint Alaska as this ethereal creature men lust over and who women forever wish to be. What made my experience worse was recalling how I fell for it the first time, and remained under that spell – until now.
The problem with characters like Alaska Young is the romanticization of depression, toxic behaviour and, ultimately, suicide. One of Alaska’s most famous lines is: “Y’all smoke to enjoy it. I smoke to die.” Spoiler alert, she receives a phone call while she’s drunk that stirs up hysteria, she hops into her car and ends up driving herself into a tree. Alaska ends up dead, and other characters in the book wonder if she killed herself on purpose.
In spite of it all, I ate up Green’s novel word for word. And I’m assuming a large number of teenage girls did as well. Witnessing the protagonist slowly falling in love with Alaska Young and idolizing this “hurricane” of a person has done wonders for my self-esteem, I’ll tell you that.
Green’s novels were quite prominent in my teenage years, and yet now I somehow wish they weren’t. Green did a great job at giving male misfits a voice in the world, but in the process, he felt the need to continue the broken-mysterious-woman narrative we are still trying to grow out of.
Concordia Photography Collective exhibits student work at Galerie du Viaduc
“Photography has a really important role in fine arts to comment on what’s already existing in our lives,” said Concordia Photography Collective President, Olivia Ridge. “I mean it can create a lot of ideas, but it plays a role in deconstructing a lot of images.”
Ridge is originally from Minnesota, and moved to Montreal to study photography at Concordia. She has been working with the collective for over two years, and this year marks her first as president.
Several of Concordia’s photography students had their works exhibited at the Galerie du Viaduc on 5806 St-Laurent Blvd from Feb 20 to 24. This short-but-sweet exhibition strived to explore society’s tendency to rate everything on a certain scale. As described by FEAT Management, On a Scale of 1 to 10 was a photography exhibit exploring this systematic and vernacular concept used for rating things, people, places, emotions and ideas.
According to Ridge, although the Concordia Photography Collective hosts annual exhibitions of student work, this one felt different.
“We do an annual exhibition every year outside campus, mostly because we want to recognize Montreal art spaces,” Ridge said. “But this one was a partnership with FEAT’s collective, who work with emerging artists. Undergraduates are not recognized by art scenes, and [FEAT] is open to giving them those opportunities.”
Some students showed their work for the very first time.
FEAT co-founders Max and Rafaël Hart Barnwell reached out to the collective to make a collaborative exhibition and showcase student work in accordance with the theme they had created. All ideas were approved by the collective. The curating company made sure the exhibit was accessible to students and, as they do with most of their art works, encouraged many to submit.
Over 20 artists sent out their works, but 13 works from 10 artists were selected to participate. The works each conveyed the artists’ vision of what society weighs the value of.
Mico Mazza’s photograph, Two Paths, shows a pair of gloves. The right glove is white, similar to that of a Mickey Mouse glove, while the left one is black leather, alluding to a biker’s. An instant reaction is to consider it a cliché; to think of the work as an overused ideal of what people believe to be right and wrong. The white glove is positioned on the viewer’s right side and considered “normal,” symbolising the “right” path in life. On the other hand, the black glove is on the left, looking daunting in contrast with the white. Mazza did not mean for the viewer to admire the cliché, but to realize how quick the mind is reminded of values associated with certain symbols.
“We are constantly confronted in providing a relatable worth to what we encounter or do in our lives,” Raphaël explained. “We are interested in revealing the different values and processes that make up this scale while questioning the implications and consequences of adopting such a socially implied abstract system of measurement. Through photography, we wish to portray an array of interpretations highlighting various ideas that lie behind a scale of 1 to 10.”
For more information about the artworks and artists behind them, visit FEAT management’s website, featmanagement.com.
The Concordia Photography Collective has an upcoming exhibit at the end of April. They will be open for submissions until March 10. For more information, visit their Facebook page: www.facebook.com/concordia.photocollective.
Hoax or no hoax, Jussie Smollett’s story can be a lesson to everyone
On Jan. 29, Empire actor Jussie Smollett was allegedly brutally attacked by two masked individuals in the city of Chicago. The beating went as far as Smollett finding himself on the brink of death, as a noose was put around his neck, and his ribs were fractured. Smollett later went on to say that both men were yelling, “this is MAGA country,” along with racist and homophobic slurs, ultimately branding the attack as a hate crime, according to The Washington Post. However, a spokesperson from the Chicago Police Department informed many news outlets that “there is no report of that being said,” according to Complex. And so, investigations got to the bottom of this alleged hate crime.
While the Chicago Police Department further studied the case, Smollett received an impressive amount of online support from many Hollywood stars outraged by this supposed hate crime against Smollett’s race and homosexuality.
On Feb. 20, however, Smollett was allegedly indicted for fabricating the entire story, of staging the attack, and was taken into custody, according to Esquire. Dissatisfied with the amount of money he was making on Empire, he supposedly created this entire scenario in order to gain sympathy from Hollywood producers and actors. While his involvement in the “hate crime” is still to be determined, as there are a number of news outlets with different theories pouring out everywhere, it is the reaction from the masses that I wish to discuss.
I personally remained skeptical about Jussie Smollett from beginning to end. I was particularly taken aback by his “I’m the gay Tupac” claim, at a performance on the Troubadour stage in West Hollywood, according to Complex. His insistence on advertising the event led me to question his sincerity, and ultimately, the truth behind what happened. When news broke out that he made up the whole story, I was not surprised, but rather disappointed to the core. And now, I’m just completely confused as to how to feel.
However, Jussie Smollett is not what angers me, because he is not the first, nor the last person of colour to use their minority status to gain stardom, or sympathy for that matter. Back in 2016, after Donald Trump was appointed president, a Muslim student at the University of Michigan claimed she was followed by an intoxicated man urging her to remove her hijab, lest he sets it on fire. As the investigation went on, the absence of any evidence rendered this story false, according to CNN.
Smollett is not the first one to cry wolf and diminish people in real danger. Smollett is just one of the many examples that white supremacists use to make their cases. When they see instances where hate crimes happen to be hoaxes, they use it as a way to push their own narratives about minorities and “social justice warriors” who are all just “too sensitive” and have victim mentalities.
But, if Smollett really did plan the entire attack, then I by no means blame anyone who passes judgment onto him.
What hurts the most about Smollett’s alleged actions is that he has completely shut a door already ajar to minorities’ voices. It is by no means a secret that minorities face many obstacles when it comes to confessing hate crimes and sexual abuse. I go as far as saying that white men and women have a higher chance of being believed when coming forth with sexual abuse stories than people of colour. Nations are tainted with racial biases. It is unfortunately innate, and it’s going to take more than a few marches to get rid of this bad seed.
When the Jussie Smollett hashtag was trending all over Twitter, the amount of hate speech I saw was intense—specifically coming from white supremacists. Men, and women with MAGA all over their profiles were claiming that hate crimes are nothing but another form of fake news.
While I don’t believe this was ‘fake news,’ seeing a gay African-American man like Jussie Smollett be willing to compromise his own community for personal greed makes me wary of the world we live in. For a minority to put other minorities at risk of further discrimination is not only bewildering, it is disgusting.
Hate crimes are not a joke. They are not hoaxes, and it is never okay to use them for personal gain. Hate crimes are a real issue, and if we’re not careful about how we use those words, we will forever fall prey to white supremacist discourse of ‘fake news’ that pushes the idea that leftists or people of colour are too sensitive, and that there is no racism in America—which is perhaps the biggest hoax out there.
Alzheimer’s is more than just the punchline to a dark joke, and should be taken more seriously
I started my year by reading Lisa Genova’s critically acclaimed novel, Still Alice. Mostly known as the motion picture that awarded Julianne Moore with a long overdue Academy Award, Still Alice is the story of Dr. Alice Howland, a linguistics professor at Harvard University, and her journey with early onset Alzheimer’s.
I remember watching the film for the first time in 2015. I was completely awed by Moore’s performance, and how she perfectly conveyed every bit of pain, confusion, and disorientation Alice felt once diagnosed.
Throughout the movie though, all I could think about was wanting to read Alice’s feelings, rather than watch them. I wanted to read through her thought process, and how she was deeply affected by her diagnosis. I wondered how a linguistics professor goes from retaining every bit of information concerning language, to forgetting where she was while out for a run.
The reason why I wanted so desperately to read about Alice’s journey was partly for my love of books, and partly because I wanted to understand Alzheimer’s, and see beyond the defeated expression people sport on their faces once the topic is brought up.
What struck me most was Alice’s stream of thought when she was first diagnosed. “She wished she had cancer instead,” Genova writes. “She’d trade Alzheimer’s for cancer in a heartbeat… and while a bald head and a looped ribbon were seen as badges of courage and hope, her reluctant vocabulary and vanishing memories advertised mental instability and impending insanity. Those with cancer could expect to be supported by their community. Alice expected to be cast out.”
My initial reaction was horror and disbelief. Why would someone ever wish upon themselves a disease as daunting as cancer? But as I continued to read on, I started to understand where the character was coming from. With cancer, there is always a slight chance of survival, of beating the odds, of overcoming the dying cells and coming out victorious. Compared to that, Alzheimer’s seems like a dead-end.
When cancer is brought up in a conversation, voices become hushed and superstitious people begin knocking on wood, almost burning incense to avoid an Evil Eye wishing this disease upon them. Well, that’s how they do it back home in Lebanon anyway.
When one forgets the definition of a word, why they opened the fridge in the first place, or finds themselves repeating something they said not too long ago, people chime in, joking about probable Alzheimer’s.
As I get older, I realize how unfortunate it is that mental illnesses are either joked about, ignored, or never taken seriously. Most of the time, anything regarding a person’s mental state is brushed off, which explains why a disease like cancer is considered more worrisome than Alzheimer’s.
In my opinion, it all stems back to the fear of the unknown. Personally at times, when I find myself in fearful situations, sarcasm and jokes help me cope. While it certainly explains why mental illnesses are often made fun of, it does not excuse it one bit. Because let’s face it, Alzheimer’s is a monster. We do not know how to deal with fluctuating sadness, memory loss, and everyone looking at us, urging us to be ‘normal,’ whatever in the world that means.
Cancer is believed to be easier, because tumours are visible and can be treatable, lest they be metastatic. Alzheimer’s is a hopeless case. Once you’re diagnosed, as Genova writes, “your brain is oatmeal.”
Shedding light on obscured narrative in colonialism history
The reflection of a rich shade of blue graces Concordia University’s library building. Written in all caps, the word “AMERIKKKKK…KKKKANADA” is at the forefront of the exhibition, on the Leonard & Bina Ellen Art Gallery’s window display.
This unusual lighting is part of the gallery’s newest exhibit by Vincent Meessen, curated by Director Michèle Thériault, Blues Klair.
Meessen is an American artist, born and raised in Baltimore, who currently lives and works in Brussels, Belgium. He was representing Belgium in 2015 at the 56th Venice Biennale in a group exhibition entitled Personne et les autres (No One and Others) when he met Thériault. Thériault was genuinely taken by the artist’s passion for history and colonialism, and colonial modernity in the Western imaginary.
“What was interesting in him was the piece he presented,” Thériault said, “which addressed the traces of colonialism or coloniality, if you want, in modernity, but also where he kind of diffused the notion of authorship by not doing a single artist proposition. He worked in conjunction with a bunch of different artists.”
The 2015 Biennale exhibition traditionally showcases individual artists and their works, but Meessen chose to go beyond that, and work collectively with 10 artists from four continents.
“I was very fascinated by his piece,” Thériault continued, “which, to make a long story short, was a film installation within an environment that he created, shot in Congo. He was also working with someone, a Congolese who had been a situationist in the 60s, and Meessen worked with him to showcase his work. I was very much fascinated by how he exposed the traces of colonialism.”
Blues Klair is the artist’s first solo exhibition in North America.
Meessen and Thériault coordinated for two years before this project came to life. Meessen is a founding member of Jubilee, a platform for artistic research and production. Thériault got in contact with Jubilee, and the connection was formed.
At the heart of Blues Klair, a video plays. The “narrated exhibition,”—as described by the gallery—titled Ultramarine is a 42-minute set by Kain the Poet, who was part of the Black Arts Movement towards the end of the 60s. The film is linked to Meessen’s commissioned piece for the city of Toulouse’s yearly art festival called Printemps de septembre.
Kain the Poet, born Gylan Kain in Harlem, New York City, is also a playwright and actor. He now lives in Amsterdam, and is considered one of the precursors to hip hop, as his spoken words in beat culture focus mainly on black power.
In Ultramarine, Kain is seen and heard breaking racial barriers, and calling out European mistreatment towards people of colour. He talks about his own experience in exile in Amsterdam, and the trade of the Indigo plant in the 1700s.
“Blue is important in Toulouse,” Thériault explained. “It’s the city that used pastel, a dye—you make dye out of pastel—usually supplied by the Indigo plant. Indigo is grown in Indonesia and some parts of the Caribbean, so in Toulouse, trading and commerce were very present. The trading also has to do with slave roots and the labourers. There’s the question of slavery and exploitation raised in that film, as well as the question of the blues, seeing as Kain is Afro- American.”
Blues Klair also sheds light on an event seldom discussed at Canadian schools: the 1968 Sir George Williams affair, which took place on the Sir George Williams campus, now known as part of Concordia University. When six Caribbean students accused a biology professor of racism towards black students—after the lecturer was handing out failing grades to all students of colour, regardless of their work—the students demanded the university investigate these charges and form a committee that would represent the black community.
The exposition showcases flyers upon flyers scattered across the gallery floor, commemorating the events that happened and the violence Concordia University’s campus has witnessed. Furthermore, this installation serves as a reminder of black power, and how resilient and strong people can be when they stand up for their beliefs.
Vincent Meessen’s exposition will be on display at the Leonard & Bina Ellen Art Gallery in the LB building until Feb. 23.
Society needs to realize that a woman’s value goes beyond her virginity, her body, and her looks
In Headscarves and Hymens: Why the Middle East Needs a Sexual Revolution, author Mona Eltahawy writes: “The god of virginity is popular in the Arab world. It doesn’t matter if you’re a person of faith or an atheist, Muslim or Christian—everybody worships the god of virginity. Everything possible is done to keep the hymen—that most fragile foundation upon which the god of virginity sits—intact.”
Eltahawy’s words resonate on an international spectrum. If one were to read those words without the emphasis on “the Arab world,” it would almost be inevitable to link it to one’s own environment. Society’s obsession with a woman’s hymen can feel suffocating, and the older I get, the harder it is to run away from it.
I have come to realize that a woman’s place in society is often related to her body. As a little girl, she is immediately deemed weaker than her male counterparts because of a different physical build. As a teenager, her outbursts are linked to a “certain time of the month.” As a young adult, her hymen determines whether she is a prude or a slut. Past the age of 32, her biological clock is ticking. Will she be having more or any kids at all? Will she be able to juggle a successful career, as well as a healthy and stable marriage? Can women really have it all?
To quote The Simpsons’s favourite justice seeker, Lisa Simpson, “The whole damn system is wrong!” Unfortunately, such values are embedded in a person’s mind. Even when defending women’s rights, people tend to take into account that a woman’s body creates life, and maintain that we must respect it.
Isn’t it ridiculous that a man’s physique is never used to enforce reverence, but a woman’s is almost a prerequisite? Granted, pregnancy is no thing to take lightly, and childbirth is not considered a miracle for nothing. However, why must it be a qualification of utmost importance? And why is it that a woman’s sexuality must determine her value in society?
A few months ago, university students at the Lebanese American University in Beirut shared their take on a woman’s virginity on Instagram, via an account called The Daily Question. Men and women gathered around to answer two simple questions: Would you marry a woman who is not a virgin? Would you respect a man who refuses to marry a non-virgin woman?
Although a number of students insisted that a woman’s sexuality is none of anyone’s business, it is the rather sexist responses of some that took me aback. Most importantly, a man comparing a woman to a can of Pepsi. His words were along the lines of, “say you go to your local dépanneur, and ask him to give you a can of Pepsi. Would you go for the one that has been opened and drunk from by various people or a new, unopened can, for your pleasure only?”
Being acquainted with years of female objectification did not lessen my shock when I heard such foul words. True, it should come as no surprise that for some, women are still, to this day, no different from objects, but this was a new low.
I bare no ill-will towards “virgin” men who expressed their need for a “virgin” bride, so they can discover their sexual lives together. What I am appalled by are the men––and women––who agree that a man should be sexually experienced, while a woman must remain pure.
This constant need to tarnish a woman for her sexual prowesses, or lack thereof, has to stop. A woman’s value goes beyond her hymen, beyond her looks, beyond her body. A woman must be measured by her words, her actions, her strength and fortitude. And most importantly, a woman’s actions are nobody’s business.
MFA students, Janina Anderson and Rebbecca Munce sew their way to revolution
All over the FOFA Gallery’s window-display are newspapers, however their headlines and photos are blocked off. Upon closer inspection, it becomes clear that the headlines are interrupted by sewing thread, leaving the images only partially concealed. The newspapers each feature articles about the 2016 United States presidential inauguration, and the imagery features none other than Donald Trump.
Displayed in the Ste-Catherine St. vitrine, Objects of Resistance showcases the work of Janina Anderson and Rebecca Munce. “This work was executed the day of the Women’s March in 2017,” said Anderson, a Concordia MFA student in fibres and material practices. “The idea came to me really fast. I don’t even remember how, it just came to me the day before the march.”
Photo by Chloë Lalonde
Anderson chose to use newspapers, of all material options, to make her statement. She stitched the newspapers in a public space, as a collective event to encourage people to participate on this revolutionary day.
“Newspapers have always been kind of interesting to me because they’re tangible objects you can hold in your hands, and it’s basically history,” she said. Rather than work on these art pieces alone, Anderson sought help from Munce, a close friend and classmate, because of their shared opinions concerning feminist and political ideals.
“Rebecca’s medium is drawing,” Anderson explained. “She has a sophisticated knowledge of line work, and she’s really talented in that area. And I always thought of the sewing machine as a way to draw.”Traditionally deemed a delicate feminine craft, sewing is seldom associated with revolution.
“When you have the sewing machine, and you really put the pedal all the way to the ground, it shakes,” Anderson said. “It sounds like a rifle. It was nice to use something the day of the Women’s March that’s considered soft and feminine for something so aggressive.”
Anderson made sure the headlines and Trump weren’t completely covered. Wanting it to be fairly obvious who the subject of her protest was, her intention was to have the viewer face the unpleasant reality: Trump isn’t going anywhere, at least, not yet.
Despite being crafted a year prior to the exhibition, Anderson said the piece has been dubbed “still relevant” on many occasions. The artist has already been approached by people saying her work has encouraged and inspired them to join her call to arms.
“Protest art changed the way I think about my audience,” Anderson said. “It sort of renewed my belief in art and its powers to change the way a person feels. Some of the best works I have seen fill my heart and make me clench my fist at the same time.”
Objects of Resistance will be on view in the Ste-Catherine St. vitrine of the FOFA Gallery until Dec. 14.
Montreal honours Abenaki filmmaker Alanis Obomsawin in new mural
While walking along Lincoln Ave., one will notice a recent addition to the street’s regular brick exteriors. Unlike St-Laurent Blvd. and the Plateau, street art rarely graces this avenue.
However, on Nov. 4, award-winning filmmaker and artist Meky Ottawa began painting over a brick wall on the corner of Lincoln and Atwater Avenues as a way to pay homage to Indigenous icon Alanis Obomsawin. In collaboration with MU MTL and inaugurated by the Conseil des arts de Montréal, the mural is a touching gesture to the Abenaki artist and esteemed documentary filmmaker.
Ottawa is a Manawan native, from the Atikamekw community and has been making films from the early age of 13. Now in her mid-twenties, Ottawa has recently participated in an installation with two other Indigenous artists at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts.
MU MTL aims to rejuvenate Montreal neighbourhoods using art, transforming the city into an open air “MUseum.”
Co-founders Elizabeth-Ann Doyle and Emmanuelle Hébert came together to showcase urban art’s ability to transform, or ‘ripen’ a city’s artistic culture.
The new mural on Lincoln depicts Obomsawin in a red dress, sporting her hair in braids and holding a traditional Abenaki drum. According to Abenaki legend, the spirit of the drum is the heartbeat of Mother Earth, inducing harmony by accompanying the voices of the people.
Obomsawin’s portrait is framed against a beautiful teal background. Olive branches float above her head, and forming a halo.
Although Obomsawin’s figure is the focal point of the piece, it is the children below her that catch the viewer’s eye. Holding hands in single file, they are inside what seem to be musical soundwaves. It is as if Obomsawin’s drumming is dictating the children’s direction, seemingly guiding them forward.
Obomsawin is a renowned singer, writer and storyteller, performing for humanitarian causes in Canada, the United States and Europe. She has greatly impacted Indigenous communities by spending almost 40 years directing documentaries at the National Film Board (NFB) with strong social content. The icon has worked on over 30 films documenting the discrimination and injustice her people face in Canada.
The 1977 film, Mother of Many Children, examines the central role of women in Indigenous cultures and was screened during POP Montreal this past September. The film is available online via the NFB database. Kanesatake: 270 years of resistance (1993) examines the land dispute between the Mohawk people of Kanesatake and the municipality of Oka, known as the Oka Crisis. The film is still used as an educational tool in many of Concordia’s classrooms.
According to the NFB, Obomsawin’s main concern is education, “because that’s where you develop yourself, where you learn to hate, or to love.”
From haunted paintings to tormented artists, the art world has a dark side
At this time of the year, there is an abundance of eerie stories to be shared, especially when it comes to unsettling histories.
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The haunted history of two famous paintings
By: Ashley Fish-Robertson, Contributor
1.
The portrait of Bernardo de Galvez has hung on the walls of the Hotel Galvez in Galveston, Texas, since just after the American Revolutionary War. It is known by visitors and paranormal fanatics as one of the most haunted paintings in Texas. With its Spanish colonial revival architecture, Hotel Galvez sits on the shoreline of the Gulf of Mexico and has been operating since 1911. Several of the hotel’s guests have reported seeing the portrait’s eyes move, and the artwork is known to conjure up feelings of unease. There have even been several reports of visitors attempting to photograph the portrait, but the images always come out blurry and unrecognizable. For those who wish to get a clear picture of Bernardo, the hotel’s staff recommend asking the portrait for permission beforehand.
2.
In 1910, Norwegian artist Edvard Munch completed his masterpiece, The Scream. It is one of the most recognized works of the horror-abstract genre, and served as an outlet for a horrific vision the artist had in his youth. According to some of Munch’s personal writings, his childhood vision encompassed horrific images of “air turned to blood” and the echo of “a huge endless scream course through nature.” Although this painting was inspired by a traumatic moment the artist experienced, the painting itself has several interpretations in the art world especiallywhen considered alongside Munch’s journal entries. In one of his earliest entries, Munch wrote: “Sickness, insanity and death were the angels that surrounded my cradle, and they have followed me throughout my life.”
According to a report by the Smithsonian Museum, this painting “defined how we see our own age—wracked with anxiety and uncertainty” and had a significant influence on the understanding of art in the 18th century. It is the existential dread that haunts viewers the most, according to an in-depth report done by the BBC. The painting has created a popular archetype for horror pop culture, such as influencing the 1996 slasher film Scream.
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When death imitates art: The curious ending of Poe
By Lillian Roy, Contributor
It was election night in Baltimore, and Gunner’s Hall bustled with life. The tavern had been temporarily converted into a polling station, although this didn’t seem to impede usual pub activities. Mixing spirits and politics made for a popular cocktail in 1849.
A compositor named Joseph W. Walker was walking by Gunner’s Hall when, in the darkness, he spotted the slumped figure of a man. The man appeared to be exceedingly drunk and was dressed in a cheap, worn gabardine suit and a tattered banana leaf hat. Despite the man’s slurred incoherence, Walker managed to decipher the name of a friend who lived nearby. He sent the following note to Dr. Joseph E. Snodgrass:
Dear Sir, There is a gentleman, rather the worse for wear, at Ryan’s 4th ward polls, who goes under the cognomen of Edgar A. Poe, and who appears in great distress, and he says he is acquainted with you, and I assure you, he is in need of immediate assistance. Yours, in haste, Jos. W. Walker
Less than a week later, on Oct. 7, 1849, Edgar Allan Poe was pronounced dead.
The details surrounding Poe’s death are a mystery. To date, no one knows why he was in such a delirious state that night. While an inclination to drink heavily might provide some explanation, it fails to account for his peculiar clothing. The poet was generally regarded as quite fashionable—why then, was his suit soiled, ill-fitting and coming apart at the seams?
What also remains unclear is how exactly Poe died. After he was discovered outside the tavern, Poe was rushed to a nearby hospital. During his short stay, he wavered in and out of consciousness, utterly incoherent and seemingly detached from reality.
A lack of reliable evidence has led to the development of numerous theories surrounding Poe’s death. Was it the result of alcoholism, drug abuse, syphilis, influenza, rabies or poison? Was he mugged and beaten into a state of shock? Some have even speculated he died from the effects of a prolonged suicide.
It seems eerily fitting that Poe’s life ended the way it did. In many ways, his departure was as elusive and chilling as his work. Poe’s legacy is so great that historians and literary buffs continue to search for answers, but it’s unlikely we’ll ever know the truth. After all, in the words of Poe himself, “there are some secrets which do not permit themselves to be told.”
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Behind Francisco de Goya’s darkness
by Youmna El Halabi, Staff Writer
I believe I speak for most art lovers when I say that “colourful,” “merry” and “pleasing to the general public” are not qualities associated with Francisco de Goya’s work. I was first introduced to the Spanish artist through his infamous El sueño de la razón produce monstruos (The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters). The dark etchings, sombre colours and daunting intensity of the drawings made me believe Goya always produced such darkness. However, that was not the case.
In fact, Goya was avidly admired by the royal Spanish court in the 18th century. For the longest period, his portraits of the royal family were what distinguished him in Spain, namely works like Condesa de Altamira and Her Daughter and Manuel Osorio Manrique de Zúñiga, who was Altamira’s third son. In Goya’s portraits, colours were used in abundance. His landscapes such as Blind Man’s Bluff painted in 1789, were bright and clear.
However, as is the fate of most artists, tragedy struck Goya, forcing him into an isolated life. In 1793, the Spanish artist emerged from a long illness completely deaf, which contributed immensely to his art. Starting in 1797, one can see a growing theme of darkness and disturbance in his work. The Sleep of Reason Produces Monsters is among the 80 disturbing drawings of his first famous print series, Los caprichos, which encompassed fantasy, satire and ridicule of Spanish society.
Goya’s first dark series paved way for what we now consider his darkest works, The Black Paintings. Comprised of 14 paintings, the collection took about four years to complete. The BlackPaintings convey violence, despair, mental illness and evil. Saturn Devouring His Son is a fairly disturbing depiction of the Greek myth of the Titan Cronus eating his child to prevent possible usurpation.
The longer Goya spent away from society, the less colourful his art became. One might agree that colourful works of art always appealed to the masses, but as the renowned Spanish artist became more reclusive, eaten away by depression, he began to paint for himself. No colours, no joy, just projections of his inner turbulence.
How an alumna’s internship in Mexico blurred cultural boundaries
“I purposely went to Mexico without a curatorial concept in mind, so that I wouldn’t be trying to make the art that I found fit into my preconceived ideas,” said fine arts graduate Ellen Belshaw. Instead, “my ideas would be shaped by both my experiences in Mexico City and shaped by the works of the artists I met with.”
Belshaw spent three months last spring interning at SOMA, a non-profit contemporary art education organisation in Mexico City. SOMA is an eight-week program conducted in English for international artists, curators, critics and art historians. It introduces participants to the dynamic art scene of Mexico City through visits to museums, openings and artists’ studios.
Through a series of seminars and workshops hosted by famous Mexican and international artists and curators, Belshaw came to know five artists: Marcela Armas, Daniel Monroy Cuevas, Lorena Mal, Armando Rosales and Rogelio Sosa. She selected these artists to be a part of Lo que sabíamos pero no pudimos decir, or What we all knew but couldn’t articulate, currently displayed in Concordia’s FOFA Gallery.
“The staff at SOMA were a big help in connecting me with artists who I was interested in visiting at their studios,” Belshaw said. “Following each of the studio visits with different artists, I asked them to recommend me at least one other artist who they thought I should meet with, based on what we had connected on. That way I was more likely to get a wider range of artists, not just one social circle, but rather branching out into different circles, more like a web.”
The exhibit’s welcoming art piece is Rosales’s Actual State. At first glance, viewers may be confused by the several half-spheres of concrete scattered across the floor. By taking a closer look, the objects become clearer: they are sandals, which the artist invites viewers to wear.
Rosales suffers from bouts of dizziness and vertigo. His aim is to convey a personal story and a beautiful message… when people put the shoes on and attempt to stand up straight, they experience a loss of balance. Furthermore, if people try to walk alone in these shoes, they will eventually fall, but if they request assistance or if others choose to help, they will succeed.
“The main theme of the exhibition lies somewhere in the space between connection and disconnection,” Belshaw explained. “How things can seem to be connected or disconnected at different moments, and the factors that create those apparent divisions. Often, the difference between disconnection and connection isn’t something concrete (pun intended), but other times it can be very substantive. In a way, I would argue that the desire to connect is what fuels many human drives.”
According to Belshaw, other common themes between the works in this exhibition are tension, movement, borders and a range of sensorial perceptions, but that does not mean viewers can’t draw their own conclusions.
An echo of the border and tension themes would be Armas’s Resistencia. The installation is made up of several metal wires, positioned in a way that alludes to the border between the United States and Mexico. At first, one only sees white dots delimiting the border. However, the viewer is separated from the artwork by yet another metal wire which could burn the viewer if touched.
When asked what inspired her to put on this specific exhibit and name it as such, Belshaw said her personal experience in Mexico played a significant role.
“My experience as a non-Spanish speaker in Mexico and how I was often able to find ways to communicate with many non-English speakers who I encountered also helped form the concept for this exhibition,” she said, adding that she started “thinking about how language is so important to interpersonal connection, but isn’t the only way to engage with others and what else allows us to connect.”
It wasn’t until Belshaw was back in Montreal that she took the time to step back and think about her internship in Mexico City. She started to realize the common threads across the different artworks and began forming the concept for Lo que sabíamos pero no pudimos decir.
“Different things attracted me to each of the selected artists in the exhibition,” Belshaw said. “Seeing their work and talking to them about each of their practices brought me that satisfying sense of this is why I do what I do. These are views that I want to help them share; a raison-d’être in such a crazy world where sometimes it’s hard to justify putting energy into art production and administration.”
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A detailed essay on the connections between the artworks will be available at the FOFA gallery on Oct. 18. The exhibition is open everyday from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. until Oct. 19.
The artistic meets the spiritual in a Concordia graduate’s first solo exhibition
After showcasing a collection of his work with FEAT Management from late August to mid September, Alex Coma took up an entire gallery for the first time in his artistic career. From Sept. 26 to 30, Coma’s first-ever solo exhibition, Inner, Outer World,was on display at Le Livart Gallery on St-Denis St.
“It’s amazing to have all the creative direction,” Coma said. “I could just arrive here with my work and create my own world. In a collective, you don’t have this control.”
Even though the responsibilities of a solo show often weighed on him—especially the stress of getting the installation and art works set up on time—none of it mattered once the show began. “At the end of the day, it really was worth it to do it all on my own, because I could curate every bit of it,” he said. “I’m really happy to have put my whole vision to life.”
Coma’s work engulfs viewers and forces them to look within themselves to understand the world.
I wanted to inspire people to dig in their inner worlds… to find out how much of what goes on inside your mind has a direct influence on your outer world, or how you experience life.”
Before deciding on the name, Inner, Outer World, Coma brainstormed several ideas. The exhibition was almost going to be named Macrocosm and Microcosm. Either way, Coma said, the names would have been a perfect fit to his theme. Inner, Outer World stems from an ancient philosophy close to the artist’s heart: the belief that the outer and inner worlds are connected, if not the same. He said he believes the same energy produced by stars and planets is present in our inner selves.
When walking among his collection, it is inevitable to witness Coma’s personal journey through spirituality and his evolution as a painter. Initially, Coma’s chosen practice was not painting, but photography. After graduating from Concordia in 2014 with a bachelor’s in fine arts, majoring in photography, he became engrossed in the art of painting. He said the medium allowed him to express his passion for quantum physics, philosophy and esoteric themes in a far better way.
“This series [is] my evolution to time, to knowledge, through also mastering the painting techniques,” Coma said. “You can clearly see the evolution from the beginning which is just me wanting to do the series, to the second [painting] which is bringing everything from the first one to consciousness, to the last one to wrap up the six other paintings into one, to wrap up and collect everything I learned through my journey in spirituality.”
Inner, Outer World starts off with a preview from Coma’s next collection, with a piece called Venus Fruit. Just under it, a deck of tarot/business cards are scattered on a high table for the audience to choose from and get a peek at their inner worlds.
Following this welcoming set-up is a collection of Coma’s photographs taken in 2014 and printed on large canvases.
“So after the tarot cards, you get the photos and get a journey through time; my evolution from photography to the paintings at the end of the corridor,” Coma described.
Venus Fruit welcomed visitors to Alex Coma’s first solo exhibition. Photo by Youmna El Halabi.
According to the artist, the series aims to present the viewer with steps leading to recovery and spiritual enlightenment. Coma believes that one must identify one’s problem in order to be more aware of it and begin walking the path of recovery. The culminating point of this journey is expressed in Coma’s last painting, exploring the spiritual depth one eventually acquires to grow out of the soil they are stuck in.
When asked if his previous collection, Wormhole, had any relation to the work presented at Le Livart, Coma nodded eagerly.“Wormhole was in the beginning of my career, my spiritual evolution,” he said. “For me, I started with the scientific world because it was accessible, and my evolution brought me to question more through spirituality. [The pieces in Wormhole and Inner, Outer World] are all linked to my personal journey as an artist, a human being.”
In parting words, Coma expressed his gratitude and how he is proud of the progress he has made as an artist. He revealed that committing full-time to his art and tackling the obstacles that follow makes his solo show that much more worth it. “It’s a big evolution for me,” he said. “This show is like the completion of a major cycle in my life.”
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Coma is working on another solo exhibition set for January 2019.
The straw ban might help the environment, but it completely disregards one group of people
The excessive pollution the Earth has been plagued with in the last few decades is no secret to anyone. One can simply take a stroll down any beach to realize how we have failed to maintain a certain level of purification. Discarding cigarette butts, beer bottles and plastic water bottles in the sand and the ocean, as if the world is our dumpster. Shame on us. What happened to the world being our oyster?
In spite of the blatant disregard some humans have for the planet, one cannot ignore the numerous initiatives taken against excess pollution, urging individuals to take action. Greenpeace, for example, is a world-renowned organization aiming to restore the Earth to its former clean-slate glory and minimize environmental crises as best they can.
Lately, many countries and even some corporations around the world have taken it upon themselves to reduce plastic waste by banning plastic straws, since it is one of the many sources of ocean pollution. While this may be a step in the right direction for environmental issues, there is one thing that has not been taken into consideration.
When political, social or environmental solutions are discussed among government officials, I imagine they have a list of people they wish to please. Will this benefit women in general? Do we fear negative repercussions for people of colour? Are we sure the LGBTQ+ community is not badly affected by this? I am by no means critical when using this caricatural image of governmental discussion concerning serious matters. On the contrary, I believe I am being quite utopian when I say governments actually take all these people into consideration when making decisions.
Nonetheless, throughout the years, certain decisions have been made for the benefit of the aforementioned communities. And yet, more often than not, a specific group of people are blatantly disregarded: the disabled community. Disabled individuals may have their own parking spots, but even those get stolen by disrespectful people. I have even noticed at times, public transport isn’t accomodating to individuals in wheelchairs.
And now, while the ban on plastic straws is helpful to the environment, it is detrimental to a significant portion of the disabled community. It is a wonderful step toward bettering the planet, something even the disabled community doesn’t fail to applaud cities for. However, people seem to forget that the purpose of straws is not just to make your iced coffee easier to drink; it is vital to many disabled people’s lives.
I am by no means well-equipped to say this nor do I speak on behalf of the community, as an able-bodied woman. Nonetheless, I do not fail to see that more often than not, they are being ignored.
British YouTuber and TV presenter Jessica Kellgren-Fozard explained her take on the matter in an 11-minute video, stating that as a disabled woman, the ban of plastic straws was “the last straw.” It is another instance where the disabled community has been ignored. Diagnosed at 17 with hereditary neuropathy with liability to pressure palsies, she has difficulty gripping objects due to her weak limbs. Therefore, the use of plastic straws in her everyday life is vital.
In the video, Kellgren-Fozard explained that while the ban is helpful for the environment, plastic straw pollution only accounts for 0.025 per cent of oceanic pollution. It kind of makes you wonder why there is a sudden insistence on banning straws when there are far worse things to take care of, right?
I personally believe this governmental initiative (adopted by the US, U.K., and parts of Montreal, among others) is a step in the right direction. However, it is not perfect, as members of the disabled community have highlighted. It also made me think how we are often quick to take into account gender equality, racial issues and sexuality, but disabled people are oftentimes forgotten. While taking positive steps like banning plastic in general to help the environment is good, we shouldn’t forget about certain groups of people who might be deeply affected by such a ban. I believe with constant communication and learning, we can all build towards a clean planet suitable for all.
