Concordia students attend the annual art history bus trip to Ottawa
On Nov. 9, Concordia students who attended the art history bus trip to Ottawa had the opportunity to visit the new exhibition Àbadakone / Continuous Fire / Feu continuel, currently on at the National Gallery of Canada (NGC).
In an enclosed room off to the side of the main gallery space at the NGC, visitors observe a video of an Indigenous woman washing a white woman in a metal bathtub. Both are silent; all that is heard is the loud sound of dripping water as the Indigenous woman gently washes the white woman’s face, hands, arms, legs and feet with a white cloth. The process is slow and methodical, each movement is careful and tender. It is not until the Indigenous woman begins to cry that visitors are removed from their comfortable state of observation and subsequently inserted into a place of pain and profound suffering.
Touch Me (2013), a video produced by Métis, Cree, Tsimshian and Gitksan artist Skeena Reece speaks of Indigenous trauma and centers on the connecting processes of healing between settlers and Indigenous women. This soothing act with water serves in releasing painful memories and ensues a silent restorative experience shared between the two women.
Reece is one of more than 70 contemporary global Indigenous artists taking part in the exhibition Àbadakone / Continuous Fire / Feu continuel presently on at the NGC.Àbadakone, Algonquin for “continuous fire,” is the second exhibition to be held at the NGC that features Indigenous artists from around the world; the first being Sakahàn, Algonquin for “to light a fire,” which was held in 2013.
The works cover all mediums, including photography, beadwork, drawing, painting, digital installations and sculpture, and span across almost a dozen rooms. Àbadakone presents the works of Indigenous contemporary artists from countries such as Canada, the United States, Guatemala, South Africa, Finland, and Japan. Some of the artists featured in the exhibition are Leonce Raphael Agbodjélou, Sarah Sense, Barry Ace, Rebecca Belmore, Marja Helander and Dylan Miner.
Àbadakone’s curators have framed the exhibition in accordance with the themes of relatedness,continuity and activation. Wall text in the gallery reads:
“Relatedness is the view that all things on the earth are our relations. This idea is fundamental to Indigenous worldviews. Relatedness – from the intimate to the global – reminds us of the responsibility inherent in art making to all living things as manifested in what is conventionally understood as the ‘art object.’”
“Continuity is relatedness across generations, histories and our futures. It helps us see that art is not static in time, but is in a constant cycle of change and renewal.”
“Activation is about presence: how an artist animates a space, an object or an idea through performance, video or viewer engagement.”
Other themes the exhibition explores include decolonization, Indigenous sovereignty, land-based knowledge, food insecurity, gender and identity, legacies of trauma and colonization, and practices of healing.
Many of the exhibition’s artists employ methods of ‘re-historicization’ and ‘re-narration’ to subvert and disrupt colonial histories and discourses. One such artist, Will Wilson, aims to dismantle the racist undertones embedded within colonial and ethnographic photography. His ongoing portrait series CIPX (Critical Indigenous Photographic Exchange), that imitate the portraits of colonial photographer Edward S. Curtis, sees a disturbance of the colonial ethnographic gaze and consequently functions in reclaiming Indigenous agency and sovereignty.
During the upcoming months, Àbadakone will feature performance artists such as Peter Morin, as well as host workshops, film screenings, talks and other events.
The annual Ottawa art history bus trip is put on by Concordia’s Ethnocultural Art Histories Group, Concordia’s Undergraduate Journal of Art History, the Art History Graduate Student Association and the Department of Art History. In addition to visiting the National Gallery of Canada, other visits included the Ottawa Art Gallery and Carleton University Art Gallery.
The exhibition is on display at the National Gallery of Canada, at 380 Sussex Dr. in Ottawa, until April 5, 2020. The gallery is open from 10 a.m. to 5 p.m. from Tuesday to Sunday, and 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. on Thursdays.
Children around the world work together to design for a sustainable future
The fifth annual edition of the Global Children’s Designathon took place on Nov. 16 at 4th Space, bringing together 40 children from Montreal to work with others around the world. The children – from seven to 12 years old – worked to develop creative solutions from various Sustainable Development Goals related to food and climate action.
After brainstorming their plans, the youngsters brought their designs to life, using simple electric motors, micro bits, LED lights, sensors, and recycled material.
They worked in groups, developing alternative shelters and projects that would deliver food to those in need, pick up waste, and more, all powered by solar energy.
Although, the prototyping process did create a fair amount of waste. Bringing 40 children together working with the Designathon team, a pizza lunch, snacks and oh so much hot glue is bound to be a messy time.
4th Space was well equipped with proper composting and waste disposal, urging everyone to mind their waste and clean up after themselves throughout the process.
But such an activity can lead to one asking themselves, how can this possibly be good for the environment?
Such crafting empowers children; they too have a role to play in shaping our future, not just scientists and politicians. They develop skills, creative and critical thinking, communication, collaboration, digital literacy and a deeper understanding of the world.
Occurring around the world at the same time, the Designathon sets aside time to Skype with children working towards the same goals in another country. This year’s young Montrealers, though still quite sleepy at 9 a.m., Skyped with young Arubans, who were excited to see the snow on the corners of Mackay St. and Maisonneuve Blvd.
In addition to the crafting process, Designathon conducts research, recording the children’s shared concerns, solutions and the language they use surrounding the crises. Sometimes, these simple prototypes are adopted by companies and, in consultation with the young designers, can be developed into a product or service. In order to facilitate this kind of cross-pollination, the Designathon team records the children as they present their ideas, making them available on their website.
While the Global Designathon occurs only once a year, the organization continues to work with schools throughout the year to develop their “changemaker” curriculum.
In this way, these children become part of something greater than themselves. It might seem simple or even silly at first, but the impact of this kind of education is no joke.
Vithèque, a self-proclaimed digital anti-giant, offers access to more than 2,000 titles
Since Spring of 2019, the online streaming service Vithèque has been available to students of the Mel Hoppenheim School of Cinema through the school’s library website. The new platform is now on a campaign to encourage Concordia students to use it. They have been touring the university’s classes and advertising their services all November.
Vithèque has been serving as the online streaming platform of Vidéographe since 2017. It is a film production and distribution company that was founded as a division of the National Film Board of Canada (NFB) in 1971. Two years later, Vidéographe became independent of the NFB, and has been growing ever since. While they don’t directly produce as much content themselves nowadays, they still help Quebec artists push the boundaries of experimental filmmaking and video art. They offer workshops, residency programs, bursaries, equipment and more.
Their work encompasses animation, multimedia art, video essays, documentary, dance videos and some fiction. Their new platform, Vithèque, brings together their entire archive, and makes it available to their subscribers.
“We’re a good alternative to mainstream streaming services such as Netflix, because not only is our offer more interesting if you’re looking for more specific auteur films, […] Vithèque also pays the artists better,” said Karine Boisvert, who put together the platform for Vidéographe.
She added that 50 per cent of the platform’s revenues go directly to the content creators. Vithèque and Vidéographe function like NGOs; their main goal is to give back to the community of artists they work with. The other half of the revenue helps to keep the platform functioning, extending their public and funding additional services for artists.
“It’s the subscribers and agreements with schools and libraries which allow us to keep expanding,” said Boisvert. “Since the beginning, Concordia seemed like an important collaborator for us, along with UQAM, because of its large film program and interest in experimental filmmaking.”
Pierre Falardeau, Robert Morin, Anne Émond, Pierre Hébert and Sylvie Laliberté are among the most well-known artists to have their work available on Vithèque. The platform’s website claims it hosts films “documenting key events in contemporary Quebec, such as the workers movement, the October crisis, the feminist movement, counterculture and LGBTQ2+ affirmation.”
Some video installations which Montrealers might have seen in a gallery or museum could also very much be found on Vithèque. For example, Chloë Lum and Yannick Desranleau’s What Do Stones Smell Like in the Forest, which was displayed at the Montreal Museum of Contemporary Art (MAC) this summer, is also available on the website.
Vidéographe adds about 30 new titles to its collection every year. Whether it be to deepen their research or just to explore Quebec experimental film history, at home, on a rainy Sunday afternoon, Concordia students now have access to an even wider array of possibilities.
Director Yung Chang discusses his experience at Concordia and his new film This is Not a Movie.
A first generation Chinese-Canadian born in Oshawa, Ontario, Yung Chang graduated from Concordia’s Mel Hoppenheim School of Cinema in 1999. He is now known for directing known for films like Up the Yangtze, China Heavyweight and his newest documentary, This is Not a Movie.
At Concordia, Chang built strong relationships with professors, one of which became a producer on all of his films until he moved away from Montreal.
“That city is so much a part of my development and growth as an artist and filmmaker,” he said.
Chang said that building relationships like these was one of the benefits he got from the program, adding that “Concordia has a very strong cinema program, and I particularly remember that the emphasis is on cinema as art.”
At a young age, his parents exposed him to a variety of cultural experiences, film and theatre, such as the Young People’s Theatre in Toronto, which stages productions for children. This sparked the dream to become a filmmaker.
“My father used to rent super 8mm reels and he had a projector and he would play them for my brother and I in the basement,” Chang said. “There was something about that, my father loading the super 8 into the projector and setting up the screen and the whirring of the machine and just sitting there and watching something projected like that. It was stuck in my brain.”
These experiences set the scene for his interest in the visual arts, storytelling, and ultimately, his career as a filmmaker. It was after studying at the Neighborhood Playhouse School of the Theatre in New York City that Chang started the groundwork of his first full-length documentary, Up The Yangtze, after his parents invited him to a cruise trip in China.
“Things just sort of snowballed thereafter,” he said, “I sort of discovered that this is a way I could tell stories.”
In his first year at Concordia in 1996, he was expected to shoot on 16mm film; this refers to the width of a piece of film stock, and it was one of the smaller sizes used in film.
“Back in the day, it was very much a hands-on thing,” he said. This helped Chang realize that film was a physical process that required careful consideration.
“You cut it, tape it, put it together, I think that process slows you down and makes you think a little more about how you want to put something together,” said Chang.
Graduating at 21, Chang had bold expectations about life and in hindsight remarks that it’s rare to make a masterpiece right out of film school.
“Those expectations have to be tapered down a little, but not so much that you lose the spark that you had,” he said. “ I had to go on a journey outside of film school to find my voice.”
Chang’s newest documentary, This Is Not A Movie, premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in September, and made its Quebec premiere on Nov. 17 and 18. The film focuses on foreign correspondent Robert Fisk whose life’s work is dedicated to documenting the Middle East. There are many reasons why Chang was inspired to make a film about Fisk, including the “very urgent question about ‘what is the role of media’ and ‘what is the role of the written word’ in this new world in which we consume.”
He continued by explaining how the sheer amount of information today is shocking, and it can be difficult to discern what is real and what is fake.
“So, who do we lean to? Who are the people that we can trust?,” he asked.
To Chang, Fisk is a part of the last generation of “boots on the ground, pad and paper” reporters.
“If anything, somebody who’s been around for forty years, doggedly reporting ‘the truth’ must have some insight into what journalism is,” he said.
Fisk is able to delineate complex places, events or wars for people in a way that mainstream media does not. Chang and his team did not want to make a political film.
Instead, they wanted to hear what Fisk had to say, allowing space for the audience to criticize him as he’s such a controversial figure.
“We want you to not agree with him, we want you to question it, but sit through the movie and feel through the ideas he presents,” Chang said.
This is Not a Movie is about the subjectivity of truth, our complicity of war and questioning our beliefs in journalism. It’s an urgent film, made for today.
Chang ended by emphasizing that we need media literacy education to help people weed through the bombardment of information we face every day. This is precisely why we need people like Fisk. Chang hopes that this film will inspire new journalists, filmmakers and anyone who watches to have a deep understanding of how we interact with “the idea of truth”.
For now, This is Not a Movie will continue its festival tour and is set to be screened at DOC NYC and the International Documentary Film Festival Amsterdam. It’s set to be theatrically released in Canada, in March 2020.
With files from the National Film Board of Canada.
Happening in and around the White Cube this week… digging into the world of art & finance at Concordia and beyond
“If culture is valuable, culture works should be valued the same way, not just verbally,” said Marc Lanctôt, curator and Musée d’Art Contemporain de Montréal (MAC) union delegate.
According to an article in The New York Times, “wealthy donors are generally happy to contribute to construction projects – often drawn by naming opportunities – they are far less excited about subsidizing unsexy operating expenses, like salaries and benefits.”
Public spreadsheets that document and protest unpaid internships and unfair wages in the industry currently include over 4,000 entries from museum professionals all over the world, including Montreal.
The MAC is among the six Montreal-based entries on the spreadsheet. There are two active unions at the MAC, one of which is for front-of-house staff and educators. The other is for professionals: conservators, curators, education tour managers and workshop leaders, registrar’s office, art transportation, collections management, communications and press relations, etc.
MAC Pros striking during their break. Photo by Cecilia Piga.
The employees at the MAC were under a common agreement (like a contract) which expired in 2015, although the conditions are still applicable today and provisions in the contract are still applied. However, there have been no financial changes, no pay increases since 2015 and certain provisions no longer pertain to the reality on the ground. Their bosses have no incentives to make any changes.
Their employers are keeping that money, spending it on renovations and increasing their own salaries. Simply put, Lanctôt suggests the museum should not “spend on what we can’t afford if we can’t pay our people right.” He added that John Zeppetelli, MAC Director and Chief Curator, is “acting like his hands are tied, that he isn’t really the director of the museum, the government is.”
This is a multi-tiered problem […] how we organize work and labour needs to be rethought,” said Lanctôt.
“We want salary increases comparable to those granted to our bosses over the past five years,” wrote @prosdumacmontreal on Instagram on Oct. 6. The affected workers have been actively protesting since Sept. 17, doing public interventions and striking on their breaks and during peak museum hours, such as the Janet Werner opening on Oct. 30.
“We have nine more strike days up our sleeve that will be deployed at strategic times,” said Lanctôt. “Everything that has to do with culture in Quebec and Canada is highly accountable to the state and public funding, very arcane. Issues are bogged down in complicated spreadsheets and legal labour language. We don’t want the public to lose track of what’s a stake; we have to stop gauging away at cultural workers. It’s the people that matter. Otherwise, it’s just bricks and mortar and art stacked in a corner.”
The Art + Museum Transparency group has stated that “many of the most vigilant and vocal activists in the current movement are those working front-of-house positions […] gallery security officers, education, retail and visitor services staff.” These labour activists are fighting the institution’s growth, urging cuts of unnecessary expenses and “fancy” renovations in favour of protection from unjust firing, basic healthcare insurance coverage, paid parental leave, and so on.
“Pas de pros, pas d’expos!”
“Museums remain extremely hierarchical, with power concentrated in the hands of a very few who dictate benefits, wages and workplace procedures out of step with the economic realities of our time,” reads the same statement by the Art + Museum Transparency group.
Museum staff are unionizing across the United States with the Marciano Art Foundation Union (MAF), and continue to prove the viability of the field, urging institutions to embrace Graduate and Undergraduate student internships instead of pushing them out, forcing them to consider otherwise.
At Concordia, the VAV Gallery has just released its 2019-20 Year Plan. It discloses their financial constraints by breaking down their budget and emphasizing the measures being taken to remedy the issue. The slow, accumulated deficit was not noticeable in last year’s financial report. Dropping by big chunks every year due to the gallery’s ambitious developments, they were forced to downsize from last year’s programming.
This year, the VAV Gallery will host smaller shows, showing larger bodies of work from three or four artists, working one on one with them to create a tailored exhibition plan. The exhibitions – now numbered and not titled in order to avoid lumping artists together with broad themes – will be more cohesive, focusing on overlaps between individual practices.
Alexia McKindsey, the VAV’s financial coordinator, knew the decision would come as a shock to Concordia Fine Arts students, but the reality is that if these drastic measures aren’t taken, the gallery won’t be able to operate next year.
We never wanted it to come to this,” said McKindsey. “This is the worst case scenario.”
Having cancelled their winter artist call-out, three out of four Fine Arts students contacted by The Concordian, who have chosen to remain anonymous, said they would consider opting out of the VAV’s fee levy should it increase from $0.85 to $1 per credit.
“The gallery has already selected its programming for the entire year – why am I paying for something that is not giving me the opportunity to show my work?,” said one student, an Art Education major.
“Especially when last year’s programming was excellent, I see no reason why a top level fine arts undergrad university can’t have a student gallery that can offer the space for students to exhibit their work, attend events and be engaged in the Montreal arts scene,” said another student. The Studio Arts major said this in regards to the $5.6 million donation to the faculty from the Peter N. Thomson Family Trust, received last spring. “It feels like things are happening up top and the students don’t have a say, like an extension of Cafe X closing.”
VA Building & VAV Gallery entrance. Photo by Chloë Lalonde
Part of No. 2, two of Olivia Turchyniak sculptures shown here, with a view of the VA’s front lawn under construction.Photo by Chloë Lalonde
The faculty received this incredible donation, but where is it? In the big hole where the VA garden used to be?
Despite last year’s incident – the tragic death of art education student and sweet child of the universe, Ming Mei Ip – there are still no basic services in the building.
No one cares about the VA. We are the smallest faculty and the most neglected building on campus,” said McKinsdey. “We don’t know enough about where our fee-levies go and how we benefit from them as students.”
FASA, we love you, we know you’re doing your best, but like, the Art + Museum Transparency group stated, these institutions – universities, museums and galleries alike – remain powerful hierarchical structures out of touch with the social and economic realities they are surrounded by.
According to McKindsey, the donation isn’t reaching the VAV Gallery or any other student-run, fee-levy projects. Concordia has a weird system when it comes to money. For anyone who has ever received an honorarium or has had to be reimbursed by the university, this isn’t new information.
Unlike the gallery’s transparency, the money donated to the university and specific faculties isn’t being disclosed to students. Rumours around student organizations is that it’s a cyclical system, hinting to a new, “innovative” project unfolding towards the end of the year.
Funding opportunities for student projects
The Fine Arts Student Alliance (FASA) just released their Broke Student Handbook, which provides students with accessible and low-cost options for everything from art-making materials, funding opportunities, academic services and basic necessities.
Among these services are the Regroupement des Artistes en Arts Visuels (RAAV) and L’Artisan du Renouveau et de la Transformation Écologique (ARTÉ). RAAV is an association of artists that represent and defend the interests of Quebec artists. ARTÉ is an independent company mandated by the city of Montreal to manage the reuse centres.
Outside of student newspapers, Concordia is home to several publications. Some journals linked to various departments, like the InArte Journal,CUJAH and others offer free range to most students. Soliloquies, Yiara and l’Organe all offer a creative platform for writers and artists. Their difference lies in the language they are diffused in: l’Organe is in French, Yiara is bilingual and inter-university, and Soliloquies focuses on creative writing, poetry and prose, bringing together creative English-speaking students across the university.
A new addition to this list is Scribbles which, unlike Yiara and the InArte Journal which accept submissions from all departments within the Faculty of Fine Arts, will accept creative work from students across the university.
The magazine’s executive team doesn’t follow the typical publication masthead, similar to The Concordian’s editor/assistant structure. Instead, they have a president and various VPs and coordinators, characteristic of clubs within the John Molson School of Business (JMSB). That being said, the executive team is not restricted to JMSB students. Communications, behavioural neuroscience, software engineering and creative writing are among the team’s majors.
“In addition to our publications, we have the goal of informing students about the creative world by holding conferences with actual writers, journalists, artists and so on,” said Scribbles President Sara Shafiei, BComm Marketing.
The launch of the first publication took place on Oct. 30. Attendees paid $15, giving the magazine a head start.
“Guests were able to get their hands on a copy before anyone else and simply enjoy some food and music while celebrating with the team and getting to talk with other creative students,” said Shafiei. “We are brand new, don’t have many sponsors and are still growing as a committee. We received a small amount of funds from CSU which was barely enough to get our first edition printed. The event itself had costs, as hospitality also charged us. The tickets helped us fund the event. However, our magazine itself [is] free.”
Throughout the first weeks of November, Scribbles’s first issue will be placed around campus for students to pick up.
Interdepartmental and cross-faculty pollination is what makes our projects stronger, making voices louder, as students stand in solidarity as young creators and entrepreneurs.
Projects like Concordi’art – which claims to create a space for both fine arts and business students – really just focus on commercializing and capitalizing on pre-existing ideas. The group’s recent Bob Ross paint night at Reggies, which was sponsored by Concordia Stores, charged students $15 to paint along with a projection. They did not collaborate with the Department of Art Education, who would have been more than thrilled to assist. Concordi’art did not respond to The Concordian for comment.
The VAV Gallery is looking to collaborate with other departments and fee-levy groups for their winter programming. Among these are plans to coordinate a special exhibition with the Fine Arts Reading Room, the InArte Journal, CUCCR, Art Matters and more.
Clara Micheau, FASA Finance Coordinator and representative of the Faculty of Fine Arts for la Planète s’invite à l’Université (LPSU) at Concordia, posted on the Concordia Fine Arts Student Network Facebook page on Nov. 5, urging students to vote against online opt-outs in the upcoming CSU by-election (Nov. 12-14).
“Art Matters is not the only fee-levy group we are talking about here,” wrote Micheau. “People’s Potato is one, as is Queer Concordia, Cinema Politica, Food Coalition, Centre for Gender Advocacy, The Concordian and more. They all provide life-saving services to you or your friends or that student you don’t know but who has found their support group in them. They are everywhere, supporting our community.”
Fee-levy groups can offer superb opportunities to enhance careers and build reputable references, in any faculty. For more information and to encourage fee-levy groups, visit the Vote No Facebook Event.
I have been to many vernissages and gallery openings. They are all more or less the same; upbeat music plays on a sound system – or a DJ, usually a friend of the artist, plays a live set – the crowd consists of young creatives and their friends or a well-established artist and middle-aged art enthusiasts looking to purchase a work or pass the time. While lively, these events are generally not like anything you see on TV.
The second edition of DécouvART, however, was very much like something out of an episode of Sex and the City, Gossip Girl or any show who’s premise evolves around Manhattan’s elite. Upon entering into the lobby elevator, one could hear loud, upbeat electronic music, played by a DJ. Cameras flashed continuously as photographers captured artists posing in front of their works, and groups of young people stood poised, cocktails in hand, as they conversed.
As the name DécouvART suggests, the space was provided as a place for discovery of current happenings in the Montreal art milieu and aimed to promote emerging artists in Quebec. Held at Gallery Gora, the event was hosted by Fondation Proaction International, whose mission is to support artists as a means of enriching the arts and culture sector.
The featured works were selected among artist applications and included painting, sculpture and photography. Collectors, gallery owners, agents and Quebec’s minister of culture were among the invited guests. Attendees were invited to vote for the best artist and were given the opportunity to win up to $10,000 in prizes.
Karine Demers’ Pliage 63/Architecture consisted of black and white pieces of paper, folded geometrically, and assembled to form various shapes. The origami-like work changed colours depending on the angle from which it was being observed; a peach tone if looking from the right, and a bright yellow from the left.
Alexis Couzino’s series of three works named Nage Macabre consisted of black velvet mounted on canvas and sequined silver fish. The work offered a representation of the current state of the oceans, as caused by society, and the romanticized beauty of the world, which is gradually being destroyed.
The variety of innovative artworks, the large crowd and upscale environment of DécouvART demonstrated that networking events don’t have to be exclusively for entrepreneurs. The overall reach and presence of the press seemed to promise opportunity for emerging artists in the Montreal area. While it is another topic to be had, DécouvART helped contribute to the idea that there should be a reward for creative work.
Adoration spanning over three generations transcends the LGBTQ+ community
Those who are familiar with Judy Garland (1922-1969) will probably associate her with The Wizard of Oz (1939), but in a career that spanned four decades, Garland made 34 feature films and a series of albums including Judy At Carnegie Hall (1961), for which she was the first female artist to win a Grammy for Album of the Year.
Rupert Goold’s biopic, Judy (2019), premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) to critical acclaim, especially for Renée Zellweger’s transformative performance as Garland. Though biopics seem to be the most accessible medium for navigating a celebrity’s life and career, there are other venues where they can be produced just as well, and perhaps even more successfully.
On Oct. 10 at the Diving Bell Social Club, Montreal-based drag queens and performers paid homage to Garland’s legacy in Crystal Palace: The Judy Garland Show!, which allowed the audience to consider the seemingly endless ways we might interpret, represent and celebrate a pop culture icon’s legacy.
Like other celebrities whose lives were cut too short, Garland has often been diluted to her personal battles, focusing on her status as a “tragic figure,” and not emphasizing the resilience and strength that earned her place in entertainment history.
Adapted from Peter Quilter’s 2005 play End of the Rainbow, Goold’s Judy focuses on the last year of Garland’s life, when financial struggles led her to headline a five-week residency at the Talk of the Town nightclub in London.
The film is sprinkled with flashbacks to her days under contract at Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer Studios Inc (MGM), with Darci Shaw portraying young Garland. Judy aspires to shine a light on Garland’s lesser-known final days, when decades in the throes of the entertainment industry had caught up to her, personally and professionally.
Since we are in a moment in which the misogynistic attitudes of the entertainment industry are being confronted, the film can be difficult to watch at times. Flashbacks to Louis B. Mayer’s MGM soundstages – the studio that activated her lifelong dependence on prescription drugs – speculate what could have happened to Garland and many other stars during the Studio Era.
Zellweger most noticeably transforms into her role through body language, from the way she holds the microphone to her posture and facial mannerisms. When Zellweger sings – live, without dubbing – her uncanny portrayal is only slightly blurred, as her vocal intonations are too convincing to detract from her ability to capture Garland’s spirit.
Though the flashbacks act as signifiers of Garland’s past, there could have been more references to her accomplishments after The Wizard of Oz. Nevertheless, the sniffles I heard in the theatre – mine included – cannot be ignored. As exuberant as the concert scenes are, the film’s most effective moments are far more intimate. A heavyhearted conversation with daughter Lorna Luft in a red telephone box confirms Garland’s unconditional love for her children, and a fictionalized post-concert visit to the apartment of two adoring male fans – a gay couple – captures Garland’s enduring significance among the LGBTQ+ community.
Due to Garland’s adoration within the LGBTQ+ community, she remains a popular subject for drag performances, most lovingly highlighted at a recent tribute at the Diving Bell Social Club.
Featuring Crystal Slippers, the two-hour show began with a reenactment of Garland’s television appearances. Performers Peaches LePoz, Prudence, Maxine Segalowitz, and Dolly Blonde also provided their talents to an evening that was all about Garland. Hosts Tranna Wintour and Thomas Leblanc provided humourous commentary throughout the evening, offering trivia and sharing their perspectives into why we are still celebrating Garland 50 years after her death.
A stripped-down performance of the song “It Never Was You” by Slippers, most poignantly showcased Garland’s contribution to Hollywood history, as clips of her films accompanied the performer, who was clad in a handmade red gown under a dimmed spotlight. Additional highlights included a powerful rendition of the immortal ballad “Over the Rainbow” by Blonde, and a tragic-yet-hilarious cover of the torch song, “The Man That Got Away” by LePoz. Cameos by Barbra Streisand (Prudence) and Liza Minnelli (Segalowitz) underscored the impact that Garland has had on the careers of other legendary songstresses.
With an audience spanning three generations, the room abounded with a soaring appreciation for Garland. It was easy to smile throughout the evening, even in the more melancholic moments, because the show’s evident attention to detail exceeded that of a blockbuster stage production. As someone who is about 50 years too young to have seen Garland perform in-person, this was a night that will be difficult for me to ever forget.
As Judy ends on the hopeful yet heart-wrenching notes of “Over the Rainbow,” Crystal Palace concluded with a lively performance by Judy (Slippers) and daughter Liza (Segalowitz). Indeed, both Judy and Crystal Palace: The Judy Garland Show! demonstrate the many ways that a celebrity’s life can be celebrated, represented and questioned.
Judy is playing in select theatres and will be released for purchase next winter. Check out the Diving Bell Social’s diverse range of programming at their website, https://divingbellsocial.com/home.
The 1982 film’s prediction of artificial intelligence, humanity and sexism today
Blade Runner (1982), directed by Ridley Scott, is one of my favourite films of all time and has undeniably impacted science fiction as a whole. Where would we be without those iconic shots of Los Angeles and those smokey rooms reminiscent of film noir? Blade Runner’s impact can be seen in films like The Terminator or The Fifth Element, and so many more. Don’t forget the film’s quintessential question, which seems to become more significant as technology progresses: what makes us human?
The dark, rainy world is brought to life with neon lights and glowing umbrellas. Blade Runner was a look at the 21st century if humanity remained unchecked and exploited its resources with no thought of future generations. There’s no nature in Blade Runner’s LA, just crowded streets and huge buildings. The average person has never seen a real animal or plant. This may not be our world in 2019, but if we can learn anything from this film or the news, it’s that we may be on our way.
There is a bold use of colours while remaining faithful to the film noir aesthetic by contrasting between dark and bright areas of the shot, whether we’re on the streets with Rick Deckard or climbing through abandoned buildings. Even the replicants in the film (the bioengineered people used for labour) are distinguished from humans by the cinematography. In certain scenes, replicants’ eyes glow, which never happens to any human characters. Jordan Cronenweth, the film’s cinematographer, achieved this effect by placing a two-way mirror and a dim light underneath the camera to reflect said light into the actors’ eyes.
The screenplay by Hampton Fancher and David Peoples is great in many ways, but it’s not without issues. On the one hand, the film is kind of basic and a little slow. When you break it down, the plot is about an ex-cop who has to murder four escaped replicants. Then he does it.
However, it has great world-building and examines some fascinating characters, leaving you on the edge of your seat by the finale. The ambiguous ending incites interesting conversation about artificial intelligence and humanity.
There are definite elements of Blade Runner where it loses points for me. Specifically, I’m referring to its outdated treatment of women. The “love” meant to exist between the two main characters is practically nonexistent, and what is essentially a scene depicting sexual assault is set to sensual saxophone music. As if it’s supposed to be romantic. In this particular scene, Deckard is essentially manipulating the female lead, Rachael, into telling him she wants him. It was clear that Rachael didn’t want to do anything with Deckard, but he switched the situation onto her.
Today, this speaks volumes to what is happening in the world with the fairly recent emergence of the #MeToo movement, and even resembles real experiences women have faced. There is a promotion of the idea that men can control women to do what they please. In Blade Runner as a whole, the female characters have no real autonomy as they are replicants. Although it’s an extremely uncomfortable scene to watch today, I can understand that it’s a product of its time. Having been written in the late 70s and early 80s, it was smack-dab in the middle of an overwhelmingly misogynistic time in Hollywood. This scene serves as a reminder that we’ve come a long way in how women are treated in film, but frankly, we still have a very long way to go.
Blade Runner engulfs you into each frame and Scott creates a beautiful and dangerous world you want to explore. All of the characters are kept at a distance where you can understand their motives but leaves room for ambiguity. Blade Runner’s action-movie plot and oppressive treatment of women is where it loses me, but has had an undeniable impression on science fiction with its cinematography, production design and enigmatic ending.
Equal parts comedic and discomforting, Bong Joon-ho’s latest is a thought-provoking take on class struggles
In the few short weeks since its North American theatrical premiere, Bong Joon-ho’s Parasite has received extensive critical praise, winning numerous accolades and awards. A recent article from variety reports that Parasite now holds the box office record for highest per-screen average of any foreign language film. And, in addition to being awarded the prestigious Palme D’Or at this year’s Cannes Film Festival, Joon-ho’s latest is expected to sweep the Oscars come 2020.
So, what exactly is Parasite?
To put it plainly, it is a dark comedy about a family of con artists that conspire their way into jobs they are unqualified for. At the same time, it is a thriller about a heist gone awry, a horror film and a familial drama infused with thoughtful commentary on class and economic disparities.
To reduce Parasite to a single descriptor would be to do it a disservice, for it is many things all at once. Joon-ho is a veteran filmmaker and crafts a masterful, chameleon-esque melding of genres that seamlessly shifts from one tone to another, subverting audience expectations throughout the duration of its run time.
The film tells the story of the Kims, a poverty-stricken family living in a shabby basement apartment in Seoul. When the son, Ki-woo, is presented with a chance to tutor the daughter of the wealthy Park family, he poses as an English instructor to secure the position.
Seeing this as an opportunity to aid his family’s dire financial situation, Ki-woo devises a scheme to exploit the naïvete and benevolence of his employers. Soon, through deceitful tactics, Ki-woo begins acquiring jobs for the rest of his family, and the Kims begin infiltrating the lives of the Parks.
Where Parasite shines is in its poignant dissection of class, rooted in the juxtaposition of the film’s two families, the Parks and the Kims. The Parks, affluent and successful, represent the wealthy elite situated at the top of the social ladder; the father, an influential and accomplished businessman, and the children constantly touted as prodigious, destined for greatness. And yet, despite their privilege and prestige, the Parks are naïve, oblivious and disconnected from the world outside theirs. The patriarch’s constant reference to a “disgusting odor” that emits off of poor people emphasizes this disconnect and even suggests an internalized disdain for the less fortunate.
Comparably, the Kim family are destitute and disadvantaged, struggling to survive in an economic system working against them. With the parents unemployed and the children without any foreseeable opportunities for advancements, the family resorts to scamming and manipulation in order to get ahead.
The disparity in their circumstances is highlighted when a heavy downpour envelops the area. Whereas the storm simply means a cancelled camping trip for the Parks, it results in a severe flood for the Kims, one that engulfs their entire apartment.
On a superficial level, the two families are completely different, but they are, in fact, united by a shared factor; their habitual exploitation of and reliance on others. Of course, the parasitic nature of the Kims is evident in their readiness to leech off of their oblivious benefactors. But just as the Kims comfortably take advantage of their hosts, the Parks too, are heavily dependent on their workers.
With the Kims working for the Parks as domestic help (preparing meals, cleaning, chauffeuring and tutoring), it seems as though the latter are totally incapable of performing simple tasks by themselves. They rely on the Kims to keep their household, and by extension, their personal lives afloat. Both families, while their methods differ, are simply trying to survive in a capitalist system, and with their cards so unevenly dealt, is one method truly more justifiable than the other?
Parasite raises questions of dependency and exploitation in a skewed economic system, while simultaneously examining the ways in which we respond to such a discrepancy. It is a subject that Joon-ho addresses in a frank and darkly comedic manner, seemingly laughing along at the absurdity and cruelty of it all.
Parasite is now playing in select theatres across Montreal. For showtimes, please visit cinemaduparc.com or cineplex.com for more details.
Angela Grauerholz explores the significance of the artists’ book
“Culture is linked to the book.” This set of words stands alone in a vibrant red font against a vast white wall. The phrase is broad, it can be interpreted in many ways. The words are small and the gallery space at Artexte, in downtown Montreal, appears empty.
The Empty S(h)elf is the first part of a new series by Angela Grauerholz, a Montreal-based graphic artist and designer, and co-founder of Artexte. The works create a dialogue surrounding the purpose of books and research in relation to the artist’s relationship with books and libraries.
The title The Empty S(h)elf refers at once to two notions: the empty library, one of Grauerholz’s fears for the future in an increasingly digital age; and the empty self, the idea of the “inner void.”
Through the accumulation of experiences, texts, readings, writings and the various aspects of the book, Grauerholz explores the process of its construction, in conjunction with the development of oneself that occurs as a product of these gathered experiences and collected knowledge.
Scattered phrases and citations in a red font take up three of the four stark white walls. Another wall is filled with images of books, architecture, maps, graphs and visuals, much resembling a giant inspiration board. Footnotes and references line the bottom half of each wall.
In order to read all the words and see the images, the viewer must make their way around the room, crouch down and stand on their toes. A zine featuring an accompanying essay can also be found at the reception. The necessary interaction creates a relationship between the viewer and the work as they literally walk through the artist’s research process.
The project, which began as a result of an archival file for Grauerholz’s project Reading Room for the Working Artist, investigates primarily the idea of the self from an archival perspective. In an accompanying essay bearing the same name as the exhibition, Grauerholz writes, “The words ‘writing’ or ‘author’ have become synonymous in my mind to ‘creating, making (art), thinking,’ etc.”
References attributed to renowned novelists and philosophers Umberto Eco, Jorge Luis Borges, Marshall McLuhan, Michel Foucault and Aristotle are among the gathered writings and documents. Through these, Grauerholz explores the creation of the text and a foundation for visual art.
Much like artist Adam Pendleton’s Black Dada Reader, a collection of texts about African-American culture and aesthetics that inspired his artistic work, The Empty S(h)elf is an archive. It’s a series of collected documents kept to demonstrate a record and information about the book, the library and the individual.
Similar to the artist’s chosen references and phrases displayed throughout the space, the content in the books is up for interpretation. Their significance will differ greatly from one person to the next, impacted by one’s personal and collective experiences and histories.
The Empty S(h)elf is Grauerholz’s assemblage of the items that demonstrate the importance of the text, and the significance of research-based art as a tool to display and communicate her interest in the use of the artist’s book.
The Empty S(h)elfis on display at Artexte, at 2 Ste-Catherine St. E, Suite 301, until Jan. 25, 2020. The gallery is open Wednesday to Friday from 12 to 7 p.m., and Saturday from 12 to 5 p.m.
Kiran Abwani uses fibre optic lights to create work that glows
Kiran Abwani’s lightboxes are displayed on four walls within the first room beyond the entry of Never Apart gallery. This creative space is 1,200 square feet dedicated to the mission of “ending separation and igniting positive change and unity through culture,” as indicated on its website. The Centre focuses on conscious living by breaking down barriers of separation in society through music, art, panel discussions, and other events.
The first thing I noticed in the exhibit was how strongly my eyes were drawn around the room as line and colour created a rhythm across the entirety of the work. Movement and intensity of hues create a visual theme as you make your way around the installation. Abwani uses black wood framing around the lightboxes, which offers a simple yet reliable structure to the pieces.
Each work glows through the transparent acrylic and puts forth a subtle radiance in the space of the gallery. A focal point among each piece is evident, although some of the works portray this stronger than others. It is the light streaks within each work that draw the eye to these focal points.
Making my way through the exhibit, I was fortunate enough to see that Abwani was at the gallery showing her work to family members. I had a brief chance to speak to her. She said that this work is unusual for her, as her typical photography style is documentary in nature. With this series, she wanted to branch out and try something new.
As a photographer myself, I understand the exploration of light as a fascinating endeavour, and she indicated her interest in this type of investigation. Abwani created the images through long exposure photography using the movement of colourful fibre optic lights and mirrors. Light trails create the patterns and lines that we see shining through the transparent acrylic.
The artist explained the strong attraction towards experimentation in her light work and the uniqueness of each piece. No two pieces will ever be exactly alike, she explained. Each artwork shows an inherent presentation of spontaneity. Some images take on smooth, soft waves in blues and greens alongside more frantic and aggressive red and orange bolts of glowing lines. The vibrancy of colour ties the work together.
With titles like Dancing Sparks, Big Bang and Galactic Trip, an inherent theme of space and time is discernible not only from her words but also the aesthetics of the work. Although the series has unity and cohesion as a whole, the piece Infinite Light hangs on its own wall and appears to flash subtly, making the reddish-orange orb in the middle of the composition jump out at the viewer.
This work appears as the anchor for the show and I find myself continually drawn to it.
“As a visual storyteller, I aim to capture moments & experiences and to visually share these instances, perspectives and stories with my audience,” said Abwani in her artist statement. “Creating a connection with my audience is essential in my artistic practice, and with this series, I invite viewers to participate in the experience.”
The stories and connections are bold and symbolic in Kiran Abwani’s series, an experience that leaves the viewer with a fascination and inclination to look beyond the light and into the stories of the artworks.
Infinite Light is on view at Never Apart on Saturdays from 12 p.m. to 5 p.m. until Jan. 4, 2020.
Caregiving roles are reversed in Shuchi Kothari’s film Shit One Carries
There is metaphorical shit we all carry – guilt, anxiety, regret, longing (insert your emotional baggage here) – and then there is actual shit.
As Avinash, the protagonist in Shuchi Kothari’s fictional directorial debut Shit One Carries, finds out in the most unpleasant circumstances, that shit needs to be dealt with too.
Avinash didn’t ask for this. He has a comfortable, if not demanding job as a Silicon Valley engineer, a whole life built oceans away from where he finds himself now: at his elderly father’s bedside in India, taking care of the man who once was his own caregiver.
Shit One Carries premiered at the New Zealand International Film Festival before making its way around the international festival circuit to the 2019 South Asian Film Festival of Montreal. For Kothari, an Indian-Kiwi filmmaker and educator based in New Zealand, the film is deeply personal. “I wrote the script during a recent visit to India when my mother had a fall and was confined to bed,” said Kothari in a statement. “During this visit, I caught up with Director of Photography Mrinal Desai. To my rather innocuous question, ‘how’s your morning going?’ he replied, ‘Spent most of it trying to figure out who’s going to wipe my father’s ass.’ This statement gave birth to the story.”
Taking on a caregiver role can often be a thankless job. This isn’t a nurse-patient relationship, this is family. And these are not unfamiliar scenes; Avi’s father is disgruntled, impatient, maintaining his stubbornness in lieu of agency. Avi is distracted, he punctuates each strained interaction with a business call, a smokeless cigarette break. He’s there, but the distance between the two men is palpable.
“The struggle to ‘do the right thing’ manifests itself peculiarly in the Indian parent-child relationship where cultural norms and social pressures expect that all children, when grown-up, will return the gift of selfless caregiving,” said Kothari. This film, which screened as part of a selection of films from the diaspora, directly confronts the cultural and generational disconnection that can open up over place and time. In 14 short minutes, a father’s long-held expectations collide with his son’s reality.
Kothari revels in the moments where the discomfort rises to the surface and the avoidance is clear; uncomfortable pauses are hastily filled with small talk. The recognition of the other’s vulnerability is magnified under flickering fluorescent lights, and just as quickly dismissed as attendants and visitors shuffle in and out of the house. The question, ‘How are you?’ doesn’t warrant an honest response.
And then, well, shit happens. The attendant isn’t there, his father soils himself, and Avi is left to face something he never imagined having to do. He enters his father’s room cautiously, at once disgusted by the situation and overwhelmed by what it means to fully take on the responsibility of caring for someone you love. There is no more distance. Just a father and son, and a container of baby wipes.
Kothari’s film speaks to something bigger than a strained father-son relationship; at a time when baby boomers are approaching and settling into retirement, an uncomfortable new dynamic is emerging. Younger generations are grappling with the unspoken expectations of taking on the caregiving role, and in navigating these new responsibilities, a question is posed: What does how we treat our elders say about our societal values? When it comes to the unique context of diaspora communities, how do these North American values conflict with long-held cultural norms? What, as Kothari puts it, is the right thing to do?
Kothari doesn’t provide a simple answer, perhaps because there isn’t one. But in the final scene of the film, as Avi sits in solitude, wrestling with these questions himself, his father’s attendant offers a small piece of advice: “It takes a while.”
