DNA/The Future Life of Objects will be on display at the FOFA Gallery until Dec. 9. Photo courtesy of the FOFA Gallery
New exhibition at the FOFA Gallery takes a look at objects and how our relationship with them might change in the future
The Faculty of Fine Arts Gallery, located in the EV building, has been transformed into a ‘biological’ laboratory for its new exhibit.
DNA/ The Future Life of Objects is the culmination of three years of research from students and professors from Concordia and l’Université de Montreal. The project imagines a future in which artificial objects could possibly be encrypted with a genetic code—just like humans, plants and animals. It is a research-creation project led by Martin Racine, an associate professor and graduate program director in the department of design and computation arts at Concordia.
According to Racine, DNA/The Future Life of Objects is a reflection on the world of material and artificial objects. He is interested in the environmental impact of design, the relationship that people have with the things that surround them and how, as a consumerist society, these objects are treated.
DNA/The Future Life of Objects includes a manifesto, containing six points that objects should follow in the future. According to this manifesto, in the future, objects will reveal their anatomy, declare their impacts, tell their stories, express their emotions, care for their descendants and communicate with each other.
“A manifesto is always a way to create some change. So it’s a way to raise awareness, and then it’s an effort to change society in a way,” said Racine. “That’s why the manifesto has both a provocative aspect, but also tries to sensitize the public with their relation with objects.”
This manifesto acts as a starting point for the rest of the exhibition. Eight modules are on display in the main space of the FOFA Gallery, with six of them directly relating to one of the principles suggested in the manifesto.
Each containing different kinds of objects, such as flashlights and toasters,, these modules evoke the feeling of being in a natural history museum and watching specimens on display. Each has interactive elements, such as an X-ray machine with a knob that can be turned to ‘see’ the inside mechanisms of a flashlight.
This interactive element is a particularly strong part of the exhibition, as the audience becomes a participant as opposed to remaining a passive viewer.
“I think the expo becomes much more interesting when the visitor is called to touch, to feel, to hear, to manipulate—it makes the experience of the visitor much more compelling. So that was really the objective here,” said Racine.
In addition to the modules in the main gallery space, the exhibition also includes a video depicting an analysis of the material make-up of objects about to be thrown away, and how they could instead be recycled. Parts of the exhibition are on display in the York Corridor vitrines as well. Everyday, mundane objects, such as rulers and phones, are placed in jars containing colourful liquids, reminiscent of a scientist’s’ collection of biological specimens.
As a whole, the exhibition challenges the viewer to try understanding objects in a different light. Instead of a mere commodity to be used at one’s convenience, technology and objects need to be understood as part of a greater picture, especially given their environmental and ecological impacts. The exhibition totally alters the FOFA Gallery space through lighting and sound, evoking the mood of a laboratory rather than an art gallery.
The FOFA Gallery is open Monday to Friday from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Admission is free. DNA/The Future Life of Objects will be displayed in the gallery until Dec. 9
To learn more about DNA/The Future Life of Objects, visit metadna.ca.
Don Giovanni is a man hungry for what he wants most in the world: women. And he goes to great lengths to get what he wants. Photo by Yves Renaud
Don Giovanni brings the story of a womanizer’s crusade to Place des Arts
Don Giovanni is no gentleman. He is a smooth-talking womanizer on a crusade to bed as many women as he can, be they young, old, married or even unwilling.
Written by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Don Giovanni premiered in Prague at the National Theater in 1787. The opera is sung in Italian with English and French surtitles, and lasts three hours. It tells the story of a man obsessed with loving as many women as he can, unrepentant and unaware of the path of destruction he leaves behind.
The opera starts with Don Giovanni (Gordon Bintner) attempting to force himself on Donna Anna (Emily Dorn). Desperate, Donna Anna cries for help. Her father, the Commendatore (Alain Coulombe) comes rushing in. Drawing his sword, he challenges Don Giovanni, who pulls out a gun and shoots the Commendatore point blank in the chest, murdering him. Upon seeing her father’s body, Donna Anna swears to get revenge on her assailant.
This opening scene sets the tone for the rest of the opera. Don Giovanni is a ruthless womanizer, using his charm to get what he wants. He doesn’t care about class, weight, height or looks. So long as they are women, he is attracted to them. His assistant, Leporello (Daniel Okulitch), keeps a detailed notebook of his conquests: 1,003 women in Spain alone.
While Don Giovanni might like to bed women, he certainly doesn’t keep in touch. While lounging around a café, he spies a woman angrily searching for the lover who scorned her. Sauntering over, he tells Leporello he wishes to ‘console’ her, to which Leporello scoffs. He’s clearly done this trick before. The woman, however, is Donna Elvira and the lover she is looking for is Don Giovanni. She reprimands him for leaving her broken-hearted and pregnant.
For the rest of the opera, Don Giovanni continues on his quest for conquests, instructing Leporello to keep the notebook handy—but ultimately, not even Don Giovanni can outrun his sins forever. While he is busy chasing every woman he meets, a group, led by Donna Anna, is plotting Giovanni’s downfall.
The opera is a cautionary tale, in that it warns sinners that eventually their crimes will catch up to them. After years of lying, cheating and abusing women, Don Giovanni’s injustices finally catch up with him, as the Commendatore comes back from the grave and asks him to repent. Upon Don Giovanni’s refusal, the Commendatore claims his soul and casts him into the depths of hell.
The opera deals with very real and serious topics: revenge, murder and sexual abuse. The serious nature, however, is offset slightly by Leporello and his interactions with other characters. His wit and innocent charm, as well as his dejected nature towards his master’s activities, counter-balance the heaviness of the rest of the opera.
Don Giovanni will be performed at Place des Arts on Nov. 17 and 19 at 7:30 p.m. Tickets start at just under $60 for the show and are available on the Place des Arts website.
The bear statue outside the MUHC is one of the many displays of public art around Montreal. Photo Flickr
Montreal and public art, the final segment of a feature story published in two parts
Last week, part one of this story explained how public art was established in the city of Montreal and the province of Quebec.
When questioned about the importance of investments and politics of public art, Pascal Beaudet, project manager at the Ministry of Culture and Communications, said it enables artists to create imposing works. It gives them unequalled experience, as they are offered a great amount of money to create enormous pieces of art. “You don’t start creating monumental 35-feet pieces of art for your backyard,” said Beaudet.
“It brings many things to many people,” said artist Linda Covit about public art. Public pieces make art accessible, because people don’t have to enter museums or galleries to see works of art. How many times have you been to the Montreal Contemporary Art Museum this year? Probably not that many times, especially when compared to the numbers of times you’ve walked by works of contemporary art in the city.
After the screening of the documentary À Tout Hasard, artists took the time to discuss with the public why public art mattered to them. Artist Jean-Robert Drouillard said, due to a lack of contracts last year, he had to spend six months working for artist Marc-Antoine Côté. Public art allows professional artists to work and contribute to the urban planning, said Laurent Vernet, the commissioner of the Montreal Public Art Bureau.
Public art can prompt positive reactions too. Covit said a citizen once wrote to her about one of her pieces in St-Bruno, expressing how happy he was to walk past it everyday. “It really touched me,” said Covit.
A school in Ville Saint-Laurent even used the name one of artist Michel Saulnier’s sculptures to rename the school. He said he still receives reactions about pieces, inspired by architecture, that have been installed for 25 years. “The work is living,” said Saulnier.
Public art really aims to integrate into the landscape, giving an identity to the location and becoming part of people’s lives. It makes people think and ask questions. For Johanne Sloan, an art history professor at Concordia University, public art makes art less elitist. “It brings art closer to everyday life,” she said. With time, Vernet said, those works of art become intricately attached to their location, using the example of the Melvin Charley sculpture at the Émilie-Gamelin park. “We can’t imagine those places without those works that define them and that give them their identity,” said Vermet.
The Fourth Plinth Project in Trafalgar Square attempts to draw in more interest from the public with it’s temporary art. Photo from Flickr
Covit, who also created a monumental piece for the MUHC, said it’s important not to forget that the money invested in public art doesn’t go all into the artists’ wallet. For her MUHC sculpture, LeHavre, she had engineers, technicians, manufacturers, painters, electricians and light creators working with her. Those collaborators, and the materials needed for the sculpture, were paid for through the projects building budget. More than just public critics, some art historians also hold negative positions on the subject. Sloan criticized the one per cent decree because it can result in what she considers “bland art.” According to the professor, artists who want to please the public might create pieces that are not upsetting but that are not exciting either. “The more the artwork is triggering conversation, the more successful it is as public art,” said Sloan. Vernet, on the other hand, believes works of public art usually follow the artist’s line of creation and are not created only to please the public.
For Sloan, permanent public art tends to become like a type of furniture in the landscape, always there, which results in people not paying attention to it. Sloan said that other directions could be taken to make the works more interesting to the public. She said temporary pieces of public art, which could trigger less anger because of their brief appearances, could encourage very interesting conversations. Trafalgar Square in London, for example, had a project called The Fourth Plinth Project, which offered a space for artists to create temporary contemporary sculptures amongst traditional permanent statues. “I think those projects are much more successful,” said Sloan.
Amanda Grzelak, Family Roots, 2015, direct application of dye and block printed pigment on cotton, Styrofoam inserts, hand and machine sewn. Photo by Guy L'Heureux.
Family Works, a multi-faceted project led by a Concordia professor culminates in student work exhibited at the MMFA
PART ONE
It isn’t often that a class project is exhibited at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts—but until Dec. 5, 11 artworks by Concordia undergraduate students, ranging from video to textile installations, are on display in the promenade at the MMFA.
These works represent the culmination of a year’s worth of work which brought together different programs within the Faculty of Fine Arts in a partnership between the MMFA and Concordia University. Art history and studio arts students had the opportunity to work on a project that transcended the typical classroom experience.
Family Works: A Multiplicity of Meanings and Contexts is a multi-faceted, ambitious project led by Concordia art history professor Loren Lerner. Along with the exhibition at the MMFA, Lerner created a website that groups the collective work done by the undergraduate students in her seminar course, Here’s Looking at You Kid: Picturing Children, Envisioning Childhood.
“It was tough for them, and they were really the very best students. I was really lucky,” said Lerner. “They worked so very hard and there was no grumbling, at least no grumbling with me. But they really understood the challenge. They met the challenge head on.”
The art history students in Lerner’s seminar had the task of analyzing 82 works pertaining to the representation of family from the MMFA’s permanent collection. These analyses are hosted on the Family Works website for all to see, divided into four different sections according to the assignments for the class, which included descriptions of individual works and comparative analyses addressing broad themes of family.
What Mélanie Deveault, educational projects developer at the MMFA, found interesting about the theme of family was its universality. The strength of the website, and of the student works, lies in the diversity and new perspectives reflected on a theme as old as time. According to Deveault, this reflection showcased different ways we can approach the theme of family, and allows people to enjoy the museum’s permanent collection in a new way while discovering a new generation of artists and art historians.
The fourth section of the website hosts the works by 20 studio artists from Raymonde April, Laura Endacott and Tema Stauffer’s undergraduate courses. The studio art students were tasked with producing an artistic work inspired by a piece from the museum’s permanent collection. This work was then analyzed by the art history students.
According to Deveault, the website represents research, quality content and a different point of view from the MMFA’s neighbouring community of Concordia.
“It was over 80 works that were analyzed, discussed and interpreted by university students, so it’s really a perspective from one of our communities that brought richness to the collection,” said Deveault.
For Lerner, creating the website with her students was meant to give them an idea of what they could hope to do after graduation.
“I felt that it’s really so important to understand, because we have to be a little pragmatic—you want to get a job when you graduate, so what kind of work is out there?” said Lerner. Since the target audience for this website is the general public, this meant the tone had to be different from the academic art history essays her students were used to producing.
“I really wanted to create something that the students were working on that gave them skills that they could take into their working life after they’ve graduated,” said Lerner. “So I’m really a believer in web publishing.”
At first, there was no intention to display the student works at the museum. Space at the museum is booked years ahead of time, and there was simply no room to fit in 20 additional artworks done by the students. That changed along the way.
Deveault was impressed with the quality of work produced by this next generation of artists and art historians. So much so that she found an unused space that would be able to host the student work.
“When I received the texts from the works in the collections, and then the interpretations from the studio students… well, we’re always curious to see what’s there, but it was really a joy to see the diversity in interpretations,” said Deveault.
Of the 20 works submitted by the studio students, 11 were selected to be installed in the museum’s promenade, which leads to the education centre. Of those 11, two are videos, ten are displayed as virtual exhibits, and one is a physical work by Geneviève Grenier, displayed at the entrance to the promenade.The virtual works are presented as images on screens along the promenade of the museum. Designed as slide-shows, each of the three screens rotates between the works and includes the text analyses written by the art history students.
Geneviève Grenier, Fémelot, 2015, dyed textiles, stockings, glass, wood, cables, oil and milk. Photo by Guy L’Heureux.
“I always believed in the genius of my students. I’ve seen so many amazing things happen at these levels, so I thought yeah, let’s get on board,” said Endacott, who was teaching a 200-level fibres course, where students learned printing and dyeing techniques and how to work with different textiles. “It doesn’t matter if it’s small—it’s the validation of being within the museum’s walls that’s really exciting for a younger student, even for an experienced artist.”
Endacott hopes that the effort put in by the students comes through in the exhibit at the museum. “You don’t hear a lot of people say ‘Well anyone could be an engineer.’ There’s always this assumption that in the arts, it’s very easy,” she said.
In addition to the website and the exhibited student works, a series of videos depicting the process of assembling the website are available on YouTube.
PART TWO
Amanda Grzelak was at work when she found out her installation, Family Roots, would be displayed on a virtual screen in the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts (MMFA).
“I was just completely ecstatic—I was running around, literally jumping for joy. I was in shock, I was telling everyone who was around me. I called my parents right away,” said Grzelak, a studio arts student who was in Endacott’s class. “It really felt like it was an amazing opportunity, especially for an undergraduate student, and it felt like it gave me hope for doing art. Like all the hard work was finally starting to pay off.”
Amanda Grzelak, Family Roots, 2015, direct application of dye and block printed pigment on cotton, Styrofoam inserts, hand and machine sewn. Photo by Guy L’Heureux.
For the students involved in the project, Family Works was more than just an assignment. It was a portfolio-builder and an opportunity.
For Kimberly Glassman, an art history student, part of the challenge was easing into a new mindset.
“We were used to writing essays to be graded in class, but for this it was different because we were peer editing each other’s work,” said Glassman about the Family Works website. “We were more apprehensive that it was going to be read by more people than just the teacher and our peers.”
The website hosts work by 16 art history students and 20 studio arts students. Each written assignment submitted for the class was peer-reviewed, edited, rewritten, re-edited and rewritten again before being posted.
“Above all, I was intrigued by the idea of virtual museums. […] They’re everywhere now and they’re the next step for museum development, I think,” said Glassman. “I was just so happy to hear that the unseen collections of the Museum of Fine Arts were going to be put online virtually in a place people could visit it all the time.”
When Dina Georgaros found out her work would be featured on a website in collaboration with the MMFA, she was intimidated at first—but Lerner pushed everyone to do their best and embrace the challenge.
“It gave us a voice, in a sense,” said Georgaros. “The thing with this project was that it meant something because we were going to be working in collaboration with the museum, and we worked really hard on all the papers we wrote.”
Sarah Amarica, who finished her bachelor’s in art history and has begun her masters’ at Concordia, is happy knowing that the assignments everyone worked on during the year came together to form the website.
“One of our goals was to make art accessible. So we constructed our projects knowing that it might be read by an audience that might not have an art history background,” said Amarica. “It would be great if someone read one of these papers and learned a little bit more about an artwork that they wouldn’t have known before.”
For Grzelak, her installation presented another, additional challenge: size. Her work, consisting of several “roots” intertwined and weaved together, is nine by three yards.
“Working with such a large-scale object was really time consuming and was really a big risk, because, if it didn’t end up looking like how I imagined or didn’t end up working as well as I thought, all of that time would have amounted to nothing,” said Grzelak. “And it’s hard to restart.”
Both the studio art and art history students had the support and confidence of their teachers, who pushed them to write better, produce better and surpass even their own expectations.
“Dr. Lerner puts a lot of faith in undergraduate students. She values our thoughts and our writing,” said Glassman.
László Rajk spoke at Concordia about how artistic representations of the Holocaust have changed over time. Photo by Katerina Gang
Hungarian set designer László Rajk spoke at Concordia about his oscar-winning film, Son of Saul
Hungarian set designer, architect and activist László Rajk was at Concordia on Friday, Nov. 4 to discuss post-Holocaust art and his film, Son of Saul.
Rajk was the production designer for the Oscar-winning film, Son of Saul. The film was controversial in Germany and France because it focused on the Sonderkommando—work units made up of death camp prisoners who were forced to herd others into gas chambers and clean up corpses.
“This is still very touchy—you can never know if they are victims or if they are just cold-blooded murderers,” said Rajk. “There is not an agreement on this. It is still something we have to discuss.”
Son of Saul does not take a narrative approach. It does not show the barracks, the tragedy or the people. The story is told using noise—soldiers talking, people screaming, footsteps down corridors. “Noise became a partner for my visual design,” said Rajk, “because sometimes it’s the noise which describes the set and not the set itself.”
The camera focuses on protagonist Saul Auslander’s face almost exclusively, blurring the sets Rajk created. It forces you to “concentrate on the man, on the person, and not on the surroundings,” said Rajk, “because you understand [the background] without seeing it.”
Empathy, said Rajk, made the technical aspects of set design difficult as, “on one hand, you have to be very cool, almost cynical. Not cynical, but almost; on the edge,” said Rajk. “On the other hand, you cannot—you must not—be cynical, because then you lose all the emotions. To balance it out, that’s a very, very hard thing.”
Rajk talked about how art after the Holocaust evolved from taboo to personal. He also explained the debate over whether it was right or wrong to produce art about the Holocaust—if one even could.
Some artists, like Claude Lanzmann, known for his Holocaust film Shoah (1985), believed the only acceptable art was documentary or eyewitness testimony. Art about the Holocaust initially documented what happened, with drawings produced by liberators, Rajk explained.
Immediately after the Holocaust though, Rajk explained, art entered an “amnesia” period. “People didn’t really talk about it—there were very few oral histories about those people who survived,” said Rajk. “They rather wanted to forget.”
Abstract commemorations were erected, as narrative pieces were taboo. Similar imagery was used worldwide, like Moses’ broken tablets and the Star of David. These monuments were huge, Rajk said, to show the weight of the Holocaust.
Art moved into a naturalistic period during the 50s and 60s, explained Rajk. Monuments depicted the tragedy – often featuring starved and brutalized depictions of people. The focus, however, began to shift from tragedy to victory in the 60s, when socialist countries began to shift the narrative to their resistance.
In the late 60’s Holocaust art began to shift, according to Rajk, from depicting people as a group of victims to honoring individuals. Monuments and museums focused on names, photographs and belongings. Artists began laying stomping stones, meant to commemorate those who died during the Holocaust, outside victims’ homes with their names on them.
“In front of my house, there is a stone. I don’t know the family, but I’m sitting on the same stairs—I’m using the doorknob. It’s a very smart monument,” said Rajk. “It really gets into your mind and it’s always there, somewhere.”
Rajk created the Auschwitz-Birkenau State Museum exhibit for Hungary in 2004. It tackles personal aspects of the Holocaust, through the lens of missing culture. “All those people had been killed. They didn’t have a grandson, they didn’t have a family, they didn’t compose their symphony, they didn’t build their houses,” said Rajk. “There is an unbelievable gap in the European culture.”
Rajk has also been at the forefront of many Hungarian activist movements. He was part of the Democratic Opposition during the Soviet Regime, and was a member of Hungary’s first post-Soviet Union parliament for six years. “After a while, as a creative artist or a creative intellectual, you start to realize you cannot do your creativity,” said Rajk, referring to life within the Soviet sphere of influence. “It’s boring to be a slave, to be not free.”
Rajk’s fight for human rights continues. Rajk recently returned his state awards to the government after they gave state honours to a few racist and anti-Semitic individuals. “The government is probably not directly supporting anti-Semitic movements, but doesn’t put an obstacle,” he said. “It doesn’t want to stop it. It’s just kind of laissez-faire.”
The bear statue outside the MUHC is one of the many displays of public art around Montreal. Photo Flickr
Montreal and public art, a feature story to be published in three parts.
Public art seems to bring out a lot of negative opinions in our province. So why does the government keep on investing in it?
“You’re not photographing this! It’s fucking ugly,” says a construction worker to artist Michel Saulnier, as he takes a picture of one of his public artworks: a larger-than-life bear, installed right outside the Children’s Hospital at the McGill University Health Centre.
According to the Bureau d’art public, there are more than 315 works of public art displayed around the city of Montreal, and they often elicit strong reactions — be they good or bad. In Suzanne Guy’s documentary on public art in Quebec, À Tout Hasard, artist Jean-Robert Drouillard recalls a moment when a teenage girl saw his life-sized dancer sculpture. “It’s not going to stay here,” she said to the artist, thinking he was a construction worker installing it. People are often shocked when made to look at contemporary art. “A [lesson of] at least notions on how to look at a piece of art, would be needed,” said Pascal Beaudet, project manager at the Ministry of Culture and Communications.
In the summer of 2015, the city of Montreal unveiled La Vélocité des Lieux, a work of public art by collective BGL on the corner of Henri-Bourassa and Pie-IX boulevards. Many people used the launch of this particular piece to express their discontentment with public art. In a Journal de Montréal story announcing the launch of the work, 133 people commented online, and very few had positive opinions. Many questioned why money was spent on public art, considering there were so many cuts to governmental services like health and education. “It’s ugly, too expensive and useless,” said one citizen in the comments. Even if one of the goals of public art is to, among other things, make art more accessible, negative opinions seem to hold more weight for those in the arts.
Why does the government keep investing in public art?
Public art, according to the Canadian Encyclopaedia, is commissioned for a public space where the composition, dimensions and proportions blend into the surroundings. “It’s a way of being directly in contact with art without having to make an effort,” said Beaudet.
When Saulnier was working on his bear cub statue on the MUHC site, a piece named Je suis là, he experienced first-hand the reactions of having his works of art on display at a public site. Construction workers passing by stopped to comment on how they had asked for more materials and were refused, but that the government paid for an illuminated bear cub. Why is it that healthcare is being subjected to so many cuts, but the government has money for art, some would ask? For Saulnier, those reactions reflect a lack of understanding of the one per cent decree.
The Quebec policy of Integration of Art to Architecture, also known as the one per cent decree, was first established in 1961. With some modifications over the years, it has resulted in an obligation to spend approximately one per cent of the building’s total construction budget on public art. This policy applies to all buildings that receive grants from the government.
The decree promotes art creation and acquisition, advertises the works of Quebec’s artists and allows people all over the province to have access to contemporary art, according to Art Public Montréal.
The process of integrating art into architecture is complex. Beaudet said the integration starts with a file, a sort of bank, which gathers artists according to categories. Professional artists join the file on a voluntary basis, and then two members of the ministry and two visual arts specialists review their applications. There are many requirements that must be met in order to join the file: the artist needs to have Canadian citizenship, to have been living in Quebec for at least 12 months and to have professional artist status. Then, when a building receives a grant, a project manager will go through the construction project to create a committee that will establish the type of artwork to include based on the place and what would appeal to the people that occupy it. A few artists from the file will then be invited to propose a project.
While the ministry takes care of the art in the whole province, the Montreal Public Art Bureau, created in 1989, is responsible for all public art within the city. Laurent Vernet, commissioner of the bureau, said the one per cent decree is managed in Montreal by the bureau, following the ministry process. They also take care of the investments made by the city of Montreal outside of the policy.
Some projects are not included in the one per cent decree, but still receive investments from the city of Montreal. That was the case for La Vélocité des Lieux. The bureau needs to review those investments, making sure they are pertinent and fit correctly within the overall environment of the city. Since investment projects don’t have a predetermined budget, unlike those who qualify under the one per cent decree, the bureau works with comparable projects. Usually, the allotted budget will be of about one or two per cent of the total cost of the building.
This article is part of a long-form feature on public art that will be presented in three parts. Stay tuned for part two, which will appear in our Nov. 15 issue.
Teesri Duniya Theatre is making a statement with another politically charged play, The Refugee Hotel.
The Refugee Hotel is a politically charged, dark-comedy play that chronicles the experience of Chilean refugees and pays tribute to the positive influence their Canadian hosts had on their resettlement. The play was performed in English with Spanish surtitles on a screen. Put on by the Teesri Duniya Theatre, the play features four Concordia grads, including Mariana Tayler, Sally Singal, Gilda Montreal and Charles Bender.
In the aftermath of the Chilean coup d’état in 1973, Canada welcomed over 7,000 Chilean refugees. At the time, a right-wing dictatorship seized power from the democratically-elected government. The dictatorship tortured and killed those they considered dissidents and imposed severe economic control by the state, according to Paulina Abarca-Cantin, the play’s director. Canada’s offer to these reluctant immigrants was a beacon of hope that soothed their physical and emotional pain.
Abarca-Cantin said the play is based on her story, as well as Carmen Aguirre’s, the playwright. “It is her true story and it is also mine, except that Carmen arrived in Vancouver and my family arrived in Montreal,” Abarca-Cantin said.
The play takes place in Montreal during a snowy week in February 1974. The story is told from a child’s perspective, a technique used to represent the refugees’ innocence upon arrival, explained Abarca-Cantin. She said some refugees opposed the dictatorship, while others, such as teenagers, were exiled despite not having yet formed any political leanings.
The Refugee Hotel opens with a monologue by eight-year-old Manuelita (Mariana Tayler) describing the determination and courage these refugees required to adapt to their new country. Although delivered in a child-like tone, the message is loaded with wisdom that comes from the processing of childhood memories later in life as an adult.
Much of the play takes place in a hotel, where Manuelita and her family are staying. Pat Keleman (Sally Singal), the social worker overseeing their resettlement, is caring and kind, but speaks no Spanish, causing the family to misunderstand everything she says. Each day, more Chileans arrive at the hotel and they quickly bond and share details of their escape—a cathartic and helpful part of the healing process.
The Refugee Hotel tells the tale of Chilean refugees who fled to Canada after a coup d’état overturned the government in 1973. Photo by Jean-Charles Labarre
Eventually, to everyone’s relief, Bill O’Neill (Charles Bender), a Canadian NGO activist, visits the hotel and uses his not-too-fluent Spanish skills to communicate with the refugees. Having O’Neill in their corner helps the refugees understand Canada’s commitment to helping them rebuild their lives.
“My character is an activist,” Bender said. “[He] would have sat in front of the government to try to convince it to change policies [on refugees] by showing up with placards.” He added that O’Neill “is a free-spirited kind of guy,” who worked alongside an interfaith church and helped the refugees find jobs, apartments and furniture—unlike the bureaucrat social worker who did nothing but check the boxes on her government-issued forms.
“The Refugee Hotel is ultimately about love and its power to heal,” Aguirre stated in the program notes. “It is the best way I know that I can send on a love letter to new people [refugees],” Abarca-Cantin said.
The Refugee Hotel is playing everyday except Fridays, until Nov.13 at the Segal Centre for Performing Arts, at 5170 Côte-Sainte-Catherine Road. Student tickets are $18. A talk-back with the audience takes place after each performance.
Trying to make sense of an increasingly challenging reality
“Anomie” is defined as the alienation, personal unrest and social instability that comes from a breakdown of standards and values. This theme is present in Concordia studio arts student Emilie Tremblay’s first solo exhibition, Anomie, which took place at the Cégep du Vieux Montréal on Nov. 1.
“It was really exciting to be able to show my work so early on in my development as an artist,” said Tremblay. “It’s very gratifying because I was invited by the Cegep after graduation. It’s heartwarming to see them support and believe in me like that.”
The art pieces presented all discuss social issues in modern day society. Tremblay does not hold back in her work—some pieces are avant-garde and meant to upset the viewer. For instance, Ruptures is a crude insult to the patriarchal values which are omnipresent in our society. The piece presents the outline of several women who are faceless and, therefore, emotionless. According to Tremblay, this lack of personification is meant to symbolize the tendency in current society to mute women’s voices. Women’s rights have been, and continue to be, a political issue and an important international social problem. In a statement issued on March 8, 2010, Dr. Margaret Cahn, director-general of the World Health Organization, argues women are still denied the same opportunities and rights which are recognized by law.
Emily Tremblay, a Concordia student, held her first solo exhibition on Nov. 1 at the Cegep du Vieux-Montréal.
Another prominent work is Stop-Motion, a collection of different door locks stacked together. According to Tremblay, these locks are meant to represent the obstacles, be they social or societal, that minority groups must overcome in order to fulfill their dreams.
“I have an approach that is very critical and engaged in my work, in general. I choose my themes based on what calls to me, in this case, it was a feeling of general uneasiness towards our generation in regards to societal function,” said Tremblay. “I feel this desire to step away from the past and question it, but without bringing any answers. I think as an artist, it’s important to ask questions.”
The exhibition is also composed of pieces which use space efficiently. There is a 3D aspect to the compositions—their perception changes depending on where the viewer is standing. It makes the process of looking at art dynamic, as one can’t help but look at the designs from different angles.
What is striking about Tremblay’s pieces are the simplicity of the art, yet the complexity of the messages presented. Tremblay’s work uses straightforward designs to convey her views and values.
Her pieces are refreshing, accessible and approachable—even to those who are not overly familiar with studio arts. Tremblay’s work can be viewed on Instagram under the handle @epithumia_rose.
Prank is an unique piece of Quebec cinema by Concordia grad Vincent Biron.
Vincent Biron speaks candidly about his new film, Prank, now in theaters
Keep your eyes open for Prank, an unusual piece of Quebec cinema that is certainly an acquired taste. It’s vulgar, it’s immature and it shows teens doing what they do best—stirring up trouble in nasty ways, all while finding themselves and growing up, however slowly and unwillingly. The Concordian sat down with the film’s director and Concordia grad, Vincent Biron.
Where was the film shot?
A lot of places. Some of it in Montreal, some of it in Sorel… I wanted to create a non-existing place. I didn’t want to set it in Montreal or any given small town. I liked the idea of a no-man’s land.
That’s interesting, given that the film feels kind of universal, which could explain why it’s being talked about abroad.
Well, we all live through adolescence and, even though we all live through it differently, some experiences are quite common. They’re usually both difficult and enlightening at once… And you can find these kinds of nameless suburbs pretty much anywhere in the world.
Did you try to make the film more universal or specifically French Canadian? Or a mix of both?
I think it’s a mix of both. Because, you know, I do acknowledge the reality of French Canadian life, but I’d like to think that the art I create can be viewed as having a larger significance, rather than simply a part of its local context. Particularly in the sense that French Canadian films haven’t had an audience for a few years now. So I would be denying myself a larger audience. Cinema is an act of communication. There’s nothing sadder than a film that is not seen… That’s why we’ve been very involved in promoting Prank—I want people to hear our message.
You have experience as a cinematographer. Was it hard to make the jump to directing?
Not really, since I’ve made a lot of short films since I graduated [in 2006]. I do direct, but I’ve chosen not to become a director in the commercial sense. I was at a crossroads after I graduated: I was starting to work on cinematography, and I was asking myself what I should do, because you have to choose. It’s very hard to actively do both [cinematography and directing], and I decided that cinematography was a good choice because it didn’t require me to be as emotionally involved. As a director, I’m extremely passionate about my work and I get nervous at the thought of having to shoot commercials.
Were you involved in the cinematography on Prank?
I was actually the cinematographer. There were only three of us. I was shooting and directing, one of the co-producers was working on sound and another co-producer organized stuff… I usually don’t do cinematography on my own projects, but this time I wanted to avoid having to hire someone else because it’s a beautiful job, but it’s a demanding one. It takes assistants and lighting, and I knew I wanted to make the film using nothing.
Let’s go back to the theme of adolescence. Most descriptions of the film claim that it’s a coming-of-age story, but to me it’s rather a story of the characters refusing to come of age.
Yeah, I do think the characters [are being made to come of age] kicking and screaming. I think that’s how we all live through it… It’s a moment when we all kind of reject the adult world, and there’s some of that in the film because the adult world is very dramatic.
It’s like they’re two separate worlds.
Right, and that was deliberate. And your analysis is correct—it’s a film about refusing to be a part of that world… I really like sad humour. That allowed me to explore the adult world through that lens.
What surprised me is that we never see the main character’s parents, even though there’s a scene that his mother should logically appear in.
Yeah, that was deliberate… The screenwriters and myself didn’t want to make a “message movie.” We didn’t want to make a statement about a generation, because there’s something reactionary about that… I didn’t want to make an “old fart” kind of movie. I didn’t want to make a film about “young people.”… Adolescence, in my view, is a very insular experience.
How old are the characters supposed to be? I feel like the older ones are about 17 or 18 years old.
I knew we wanted to leave that ambiguous. I’d done an initial casting session and screen tests for younger actors and it was a bit boring. The contrast between them and [the main character] is more interesting if we feel that there’s more of an age difference. They’re more interesting to [the main character] because they seem more experienced … I’m a big fan of John Hughes, you know. In Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Matthew Broderick was 22 or 23 years old when it was shot, not 16. But the logic of the film sells it to you. As filmmakers, we’re too scared to let go of reality. Especially in Quebec, we have a strong history of documentary filmmaking, so people want to make stuff that looks real.
Do you have any future plans?
We’re writing another full-length film with the same team. I really enjoyed shooting this way, with no money, and I learned a lot doing it. I’d like to repeat that experience… It gives you complete freedom to say whatever you want, and not to wait. Because from the moment that you say you’re waiting to get [a larger budget], you’re gonna keep on waiting.
Alex Petrachuk gave an amazing performance as Queen Elizabeth in Obra anaïs: performance ensemble’s production of Mary Stuart.
Mary Stuart brings the battle of the two Tudor queens to life onstage
A techie and costume designer’s dream, Mary Stuart brings to life the historical struggle between Queen Elizabeth I and Mary, Queen of Scots. The multimedia-filled show ran at the Salle Jean-Valcourt du Conservatoire from Oct. 21 to 30, and featured a number of Concordia grads, including Alex Petrachuk and Curtis Legault. A production by the Obra anaïs: performance ensemble, the play featured solid character development as well as captivating music and interesting staging choices.
The set was versatile, with chains and sheer pieces of fabric hanging from the ceiling along the back of the stage. Above them was a screen onto which images and videos were projected throughout the play. The curtains created a transparent hallway for characters to walk through, and could also be tied into slip knots to create different silhouettes for different settings. The black and white colour scheme of both the costumes and sets played well with the lighting. The characters would step in and out of the light depending on whether they were lying or telling the truth.
A definite highlight was the standout performance by Alex Petrachuk, who played Queen Elizabeth I. Her character engaged the audience with her inner turmoil about signing the death warrant of her cousin and royal counterpart, Mary Stuart. Both queens exuded power, but Petrachuk also gave her queen a more human and compassionate element that the audience could relate to. She made me, as an audience member, feel both angry about her spoiled attitude, yet sorry for her, as she was trapped in her role as a monarch.
The music included renaissance choral singing alongside a more contemporary drag performance, which added an updated feel to the Brechtian show. The sound design was done by Vanessa Zaurrini, who mixed together sounds and songs, from Madonna to metal, in an electroacoustic style. The music tied in with many of the staging ideas and created intensity in many of the scenes.
However, even though this version of the play was obviously a more contemporary take, some of the music, specifically the more modern and metal songs, seemed unnecessary and didn’t really add anything to the performance. The case was the same for a number of the theatrical choices. For example, actor Megan Schroeder seemed to play both Lady Kennedy and the embodiment of Mary Stuart’s inner thoughts. This was just as confusing as it sounds. During a few of Mary Stuart’s monologues, Schroeder would move in out of the curtains in the background, sometimes spinning or crawling or even brandishing an invisible sword. While I can see the idea behind the choice—to show how Mary Stuart was actually feeling inside, despite appearing strong to the outside world—it was both distracting and confusing—especially since Schroeder was playing another character the rest of the time. Had a different actor played the “inner Mary Stuart” and been present in every scene, the idea may have come across better.
A well-acted and visually appealing play, Mary Stuart is not for anyone with a short attention span. The play ran close to three hours, with only a 10 minute intermission, and while that length is normal for most Brechtian plays, it definitely felt very long. To find out more about Obra anaïs: performance ensemble, check out their Facebook page.
This real-life account of being addicted to heroin shows the rarely-seen lowest of lows
I woke up sick. Feeling the pang of quiet panic and a taste of desperation upon awakening was something I had almost gotten used to. First thing in the morning. When I was young, it was the same. Except then, it was the terror of thinking I was late for school and I had overslept. Now the panic had its roots in smack. With heroin, if you didn’t save a hit for the morning from the night before, you woke up like this.
The catch-22 of the deal was if you do a proper hit the night before, you’d toss and turn through flashing nightmares and murky forgettable dreams. All as the sickness crept up on you. With smack, waking life was a series of no-win scenarios. A constant Kobayashi Maru.
Much like Jim Kirk, you used human ingenuity every day to try and beat the game. Anything and everything, anything and nothing, tactics and strategy, luck and prayer, friends and enemies, economics and diplomacy, hustles and honest-to-goodness straight hard work and determination, to stay one step ahead of the sickness. Like Bono once wrote, “we’re all running to stand still.” On heroin, there is no getting ahead. So I woke and started cataloguing my inventory. One tablet. One bank card. One pen. A few smokes. No lighter. About 40 cents. No food. Food always comes in second.
Graphic by Florence Yee
It was dim outside. Late afternoon, my instincts told me. In the winter, the sun sets by 4:30 p.m. in Montreal. My eyes released their first involuntary tears of the day. My nose ran. My back and legs ached. My bones felt like glass. Specifically, like the thin fragile necks of wine glasses. My neck and armpits were hot, sweating cold sticky sweat. My chest and legs were ice cold. Small localised waves of chills ran through random parts of my body. Heroin withdrawal, scientifically, is the junk-addicted cells of your body dying. Without junk, the cells cannot live. So all the chills and aches and hot flashes and throbbing pain and running noses and horrible taste in your mouth—that’s your body dying—and being reborn. But honestly, the physical symptoms, as bad as they are, pale in comparison to the psychological feelings of despair, shame, utter tragic sorrow and acute depression.
Like you’ve never felt joy, and you can’t remember what tranquility is like. I’m describing this because it’s important to understand that, for the junkie, the lows are equally vital in driving our behaviour and decision-making as the highs. Yes, being sober means no more withdrawal, but for a person so accustomed to staring into the abyss of human suffering on a daily basis, regular life is, well, boring. This little fact is man’s dirty little psychic secret—both from himself and to others. The reality is that everyone, in one shape or another, faces this problem. The truth is, some just go with the flow… Time passes.
I’m on the metro. This is the third time today I’m making this Friday tour de l’ile. Each time from either Angrignon or Vendome in the west to Jarry or Sherbrooke. It’s been that kind of day. “The Run,” they call it. On a good day, the Mediterraneans pick up their goddamn phones, we might get a delivery. Home and work delivery is what a man will wait three to five hours for because the LAST thing anybody wants to have to do when in the throes of withdrawal is exactly what I’m doing right now.
There’s a man in his 50s wearing navy blue, on his head and his jacket. There’s a trio of gorgeous 20-somethings to my 10 o’clock. A smattering of lone white men. A couple of young people. In a way, everybody on the metro is young. Montreal in the 2010s is predominantly a young city. A massive college town with four universities, two dozen colleges, countless more institutes and academies of dubious accredited status. I say “we” a lot because in a city like this, with weather like ours, and drugs like these, you’re never really alone. Society among the young is arbitrated and networked mainly by one or more of the following: school connections, growing up together, blood, chance, work or drugs. There’s always the guy with the hook-ups. For me, I always kept one degree, two at most, of separation from this guy. Mr. Hook-Up—the title and name changes. It can be a seasonal thing or it could just be the dude’s in jail for six months, plus probation, conditions, parole officers, curfews, random phone calls, in-person checks, piss tests, psychological tests, possible surveillance, ankle bracelets… But I digress.
Montreal in the wintertime. We’re coming out of an ice storm. The sidewalks were glazed as a skating rink, causing innumerable falls and minor injuries. Spirits inevitably fall during such a time. A friend of mine died on Saturday I learned. He was alone in his room when he injected a mix of heroin and cocaine, colloquially known as a speedball. All his square, non-user friends will now lament his passing and the horrors of hard drugs. But what really bugs me is that it’s the lack of tolerance of these friends, their distaste for the sights and sounds and realities of drug use, specifically intravenous drug use, that spurs individuals like my friend (we’ll call him Andrew) to isolate themselves in secrecy. The last thing a hard drug user ought to do is shoot up alone.
