Tag: community

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Arts

How Gallery Parfois is changing the way we think about exhibition spaces

Redefining the white cube through a participatory approach

Walking into the space at Gallery Parfois, an immediate sense of welcomeness is harboured. A plastic rose and a mannequin bust are haphazardly placed on a table, a studio light shining down on them and casting their shadow across the bare wall. Chill, lo-fi music plays in the background, and a lean black cat moseys around the room. Despite how often one may be in gallery spaces, this one does not prompt the frigidity that almost always instantly arises when stepping into the white cube.

Gallery Parfois, an artist-run, do-it-yourself space on St-Laurent Blvd. and Duluth Ave., aims to offer an environment for engagement with art. In this context, do-it-yourself refers to a community-driven initiative that differs from most conventional and commercially-based institutions.

Their Tuesday Night Life Drawing sessions were created to fill a space within the industry.

“Outside of an institutional art school setting, the opportunity to draw a model from life is a rarity,” said Brooke Rutner, the director of Gallery Parfois, which also doubles as her photo studio. “Although there is no instruction during our session, practicing drawing from life is said to be the best way to improve one’s drawing.”

Sessions are held Tuesday evenings, in order to accommodate the large majority of people who hold day jobs, and only cost a small participation fee of $5. However, Rutner disclosed that no one would be turned away for lack of funds.

The sessions, which last approximately two and a half hours, consist of a variety of timed intervals wherein the model changes and holds various poses. First two minutes, then five, then 10, and finally 22 minute intervals. While this is how most life drawing sessions occur in both the educational and artistic milieu, the vibe at Gallery Parfois is much more laid back, and emphasizes the idea of art for pleasure. Some participants use pencils, charcoal, pastels, and even electronic tablets. People join halfway through, and others leave.

The ease and comfort of the space reforms the conventional gallery. The traditional white cube is almost always commercially-based and reliant on exhibiting and, oftentimes, selling art.

“The art that is exhibited in these galleries is art that will most likely appeal to the taste of collectors, aka art that will sell,” said Rutner. Gallery Parfois, on the other hand, focuses on creating an alternative environment for artistic engagement. Exhibitions feature experimental and emerging artists; work that fosters a dialogue or addresses social issues.

“The overall goal of the space is to foster a community of like-minded creatives,” said Rutner.

Gallery Parfois’ approach towards engaging and participating with art redefines who gets to be an artist.

“[There is] an interesting diversity among the regular life drawing participants,” said Rutner. “[They] range from absolute beginners to animation industry professionals.”

The different mediums used by participants and the various levels of their talent remind the artist that there is not one ‘type’ of making, and that the commercialization of art is not the ultimate goal, but rather to foster a sense of community around art-making.

“I do not perceive commercial spaces as being inherently lacking or flawed,” said Rutner. “Despite the obvious barriers to entry, they often achieve what they set out to do. [Being] aligned with such institutions can be an amazing opportunity for an artist. I think it’s important to have many different channels for engaging with and pursuing art.

While traditional gallery spaces aid artists in promoting and commercializing their art, Gallery Parfois aims to offer artists a different experience. This is not to undermine the importance of galleries, but rather to provide different types of opportunities for a greater majority of people with an interest in art-making, and to provide representation for a wider group of artists.

In line with their approach of offering a space for artistic engagement and a sense of community within the industry, Gallery Parfois will be launching a new educational initiative this fall, offering affordable workshops on various topics ranging from grant-writing to bookbinding. Upcoming event info will be posted to the space’s official Facebook page, at Gallery Parfois.

Tuesday night life drawing sessions are held every Tuesday, from 7 p.m. to 9:30 p.m. at Gallery Parfois, at 4064 St-Laurent Blvd. 

 

Graphic by @sundaeghost

Categories
Student Life

Coopérative Rond-Point adds to Hochelaga’s eclectic community

Coopérative Rond-Point adds to Hochelaga’s eclectic community

The Hochelaga-Maisonneuve district of Montreal may not be the first place that comes to mind when searching for a beautiful place to share a coffee with a friend or relax while studying. However, amidst the bustle of Ontario St., a welcoming spot has recently opened. On the outside, the small entrance of what looks like an old residential building may go unnoticed, but inside, there is an unusual coffee shop that’s quickly becoming one of Hochelaga’s hidden gems.

Coopérative Rond-Point is a self-run, non-hierarchical coffee shop that opened during summer 2017, where every decision is taken democratically by all staff members. For Héloïse Lanouette, one of the three founders of Rond-Point, the idea of creating a cooperative of workers came naturally.

“We did not want to recreate a hierarchical system of employee and bosses,’’ said Lanouette. “We thought this is the model we wanted to develop.”

The first thing that attracts attention when entering the place is the vibrant atmosphere—regular customers talking to the staff by the counter, university students preparing for their finals, a group of friends catching up during brunch. Most walls are covered by the work of local artists and posters of future shows, and there is even a piano at the entrance, which was a gift from the previous owner.

Coopérative Rond-Point is a self-run, non-hierarchical coffee shop and community space. Photo by Mackenzie Lad.

The shop stands out for its inclusivity and its accessibility for people of different ages and economic backgrounds.

“I come here for the human warmth,’’ says Francine Masson, a 68-year-old retiree from Montreal who is a regular customer. “That’s what I find here. The human warmth, different people of many ages and people from all nations. You can find this here.”

The same energy not only comes from the clients, but from the staff as well. The new members of the team have the same power and responsibilities as the founders do.

“I think we have a space where people feel good. We offer unlimited coffee for two dollars. People feel good to just come here to use the internet, drink something, and stay for the afternoon,” said Lanouette. “We have also a lot of people that are retired and come pass some time at the shop. It’s something we appreciate a lot.”

“What is fun in a cooperative is that we are all in the same boat,” says Jean-Luc Barrière, a new member of the communications team. “We are all equal. We have a good amount of tasks that we share in a perspective that we take care of each other. We make sure that everyone feels well in the workplace.”

One of the missions of the shop is to work with the community. It offers visibility for small artists and organizes weekly free events including poetry readings, comedy shows and movie screenings, that contribute to creating a social presence. Just recently, Rond-Point became the home of the Ligue d’Improvisation des Pas Sages (LIPS), an improvisation group that now puts on a show at the coop every other Thursday.

“The atmosphere is fun,” says Martin Dumais, a member of the LIPS for the past five years. “We are close to the young families which are the public that we are targeting. We also have here a room that is perfect for shows.”

“It’s a beautiful place,” says Marie Calmé, also a member of the LIPS. “I think it’s excellent to be working with a place that promotes local artists and culture.”

“It’s a beautiful discovery,” said Dumais. “We really fell in love with the place.”

Feature photo by Mackenzie Lad

Categories
Arts

Fighting homelessness with art

The St-James Drop-In centre takes everything into consideration

While a blanket of fresh November snow falls on Montreal, the St-James Drop-in Centre is warm with laughter. The front room buzzes with activity, and dishes clink together as members serve lunch. In the corner of the dining area is a piano painted in bright colors. In the kitchen, crates of fresh fruits, vegetables and grains are spread out across the counters and in stacks on the floor. Downstairs in the art studio, drawings and paintings hang on the walls, unfinished projects sit on easels and shelves are lined with supplies.

St-James’s members have painted bright portraits on the piano in the centre’s dining room.
Photo by Hannah Ewen.

St-James is a community centre located in the Gay Village, about a block up from Ste-Catherine St. It’s open five days a week and serves as a space for marginalized people. Its members are predominately homeless or struggling with mental illness; as St-James intervention worker Lisa Zimanyi pointed out, the two often go hand in hand.

“We are much smaller than most centres, and the idea there is to make people feel more at home,” Zimanyi said. With just three rooms, the space is certainly cozy. “People who struggle with anxiety or different types of mental illness don’t always feel safe in larger places, so we are kind of an alternative resource for them.”

In addition to offering counselling, crisis intervention or just a conversation over a cup of coffee, the centre hosts poetry, music and art workshops. The centre’s team also hosts several art events in the community, including art exhibitions to showcase the pieces that members make. Although the centre has exhibited work at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts in the past, Zimanyi said it’s the smaller vernissages held throughout the year that allow members to connect with the community.

According to Zimanyi, the staff at St-James works hard to get to know members on a personal level. Having worked full-time at the centre for five years, Zimanyi said she has had the chance to “accompany them through all different aspects of their life.” Although the centre provides members with a roof, a shower and hot meals, the staff’s focus isn’t just on survival. “We do meet people’s physical needs, but at the same time, we’re trying to build relationships with people,” Zimanyi said.

Members are also encouraged to volunteer and help out at the centre as much as they can. “I actually rely on the members to help me out with running the place on a day-to-day basis,” Zimanyi said. “The members feel at home, and we get to know each other in a more informal context. It’s more like a family.”

The way the centre hums with jokes, and hearing members greet each other when they walk in, it is clear St-James has created a unique atmosphere—one that feels like home.

Concerned with more than basic necessities, the St-James Drop-in Centre and art studio serves as a safe space for marginalized people.
Photo by Hannah Ewen.

Lysanne Picard is the creative arts program coordinator at St-James and oversees the Concordia art education students who intern at the centre. A Concordia alumna herself, Picard said the students are in charge of running their own workshops with the members and she encourages the students to think outside of the box. “The student workshops really add some diversity and excitement.” This year’s interns, Concordia students Stephanie Talisse and Jude Ibrahim, have done exactly that. With Talisse, members assembled and drew still-life scenes of the things they kept in their pockets. In another activity, Ibrahim had members make prints on postcards, focusing on social change and the message they want to send to the world.

“It’s really neat to see the members meet other artists and experience that artist-to-artist connection they might not get otherwise,” Picard said.

Even after members have gained some stability, they are still welcome to spend time at the centre, and many do. Paul Hicks, a long-time member who also works at the centre, joined the community in the 80s, when the centre first opened. Hicks often participates in the art workshops offered at the centre, but said he particularly enjoys working with the interns.

“I really like when the students come in and do lessons,” Hicks said. Behind him, one of his recent paintings, an intricate and colourful scene of a gondola in the canals of Venice, was hung up to dry.

A few of Hicks’s pieces, along with those of other members, will be available to purchase at the centre’s annual art sale fundraiser on Saturday, Dec. 1 from 1 p.m. to 5:30 p.m. All profits will go towards supporting the centre. Anyone searching for a unique Christmas gift or simply looking to support the centre can stop by 1442 Panet St. to shop and chat with the artists. The centre also accepts donations year-round.

Categories
Arts

Searching for balance in Constellat(i)ons

Photo by Mackenzie Lad.

Concordia’s community art education students are at a crossroads

Teaching is everywhere. Whether cultural, from one generation to the next, or through academic pathways, teaching is present in all aspects of life and in every field.

Following a curriculum of practicum-based lecture and studio classes, Concordia art education students learn how to teach, how to be taught, and where art fits into all this. These student artists are interested not only in teaching art, but in using art to teach any school subject and about all aspects of life. Two years into their degree, each student must decide whether to specialize or major in the field, a choice that determines whether or not they will work as a teacher in primary and secondary schools or in the community.

Students who choose the community pathway must take ARTE 432: Theory and Practice in Community Art Education. This semester, the course was taught by grad student Arianna Garcia Fialdini, a former teaching assistant and first-time professor at Concordia. Fialdini’s goal with this course was to bridge her students’ personal art practice and their teaching practices with an exhibition.

Constellat(i)ons, curated by the entire class, served to define who the students are as artists as well as teachers. The work exhibited was a result of the students reflecting on their sense of identity and emotions regarding their position in and concerns about belonging in the art world.

Avery Walker, Emily Sirota and Sylvia Erlichman-Gross are three of the 18 exhibiting student-teachers. Sirota is an independent student and a working performance artist interested in the idea of teaching and learning as a performative act. During the vernissage on Nov. 16, she performed Incommensurate Things, a piece exploring the anatomy of a breakup using controlled projections of dispersed vignettes.

Abstract painters Walker and Erlichman-Gross have similar yet distinct perceptions of themselves as artists and student-teachers. Erlichman-Gross aspires to be an art therapist and is interested in the intersection of art and psychology. Whereas Walker is interested in collaborative learning in community settings and merging her artistic practice with the teaching practice.

Sylvia Erlichman-Gross’ work in progress, A gift to my mother. Photo by Mackenzie Lad.

Erlichman-Gross’ painting, A gift to my mother, explores the intersection between art and psychology, in conjunction with aspects of home and identity. The piece is a work in progress throughout the artist’s bachelor’s degree and documents her journey as a student. Walker’s Serendipity was made with leftover paint from one of her painting-without-brushes lessons taught as a part of her practicum.

Avery Walker’s Serendipity was created with left over paint. Photo by Mackenzie Lad.

 

Other pieces in the exhibition included fibre work as a form of therapy, beading and using recycled materials as a form of cultural education and social resistance, as well as a series of audio-visual and print installations exploring aspects of the individual students’ identities.

According to the students, teaching is many things, and teaching about art or using art as a means of teaching expands upon even more. It can transform fears, anxieties and vulnerabilities into love and encouragement. It requires awareness of one’s identity and the ability to be flexible and open to other perceptions of art and ways of sharing skills. It is a continuous battle, learning from and finding meaning within all realms of experience and connecting them with single threads.

“We are part of a series of networks, just like stars are parts of constellations,” Walker wrote in her artist statement. The class exhibition meant something different to each student but really focused on giving them practical experience not only as teachers but as professional artists.

 

Categories
Arts

Queerness, community and Rocky

A look at Montreal’s renditions of the cult classic and what it means to the city

Towards the end of September, I walked into The Concordian’s office, first to arrive at our Friday pitch meeting, to find a large envelope on the floor that was addressed to me. Thinking I had deeply upset someone, I anxiously opened the envelope, emptying the contents on the table. Out spilled several papers, one of them labeled “WHAT TO BRING: TOAST, WATER GUNS … NO RICE.” Another showed illustrated instructions for the Time Warp dance. This was my invitation to the The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

I am not unfamiliar with the spectacle, but since I had never seen the live performance, I was riddled with excitement. Autumn is a strange time of the year, sometimes heatwave and sometimes freezing, but one constant remains: Rocky Horror. Posters litter the streets, every lamppost and every café. This was it, this was the year I was finally going to see the live show I had heard so much about. Not long after, I found out there are not one, but two live performances. “What’s the deal?” I asked myself. “Why does Montreal love Rocky Horror so much?”

Two weeks ago, I found myself walking up a narrow staircase above Segal’s Market on St-Laurent Blvd. The Mainline Theatre wasn’t what I expected; it was homey. People of all ages bedazzled with feather boas, wigs, fishnets and a lot of glitter waited impatiently in a line filling the entire lobby.

The theatre was small. On three sides, the room was lined with rows of elevated seats facing the performance area in the centre. Out came the usheress, beginning the show with a fantastic musical number. With a run time of 120 minutes, the performance was longer than the film itself and featured amazing numbers and raunchy call backs. My favourite scene was when the newly engaged conservative couple’s strange night began.

Elyann Quessy, as Janet, and Adrian MacDonald, playing Brad, got into a car completely formed by the bodies of the phantom dancers, with Kiah Ellis-Durity at the head, planking for the duration of the scene. When Ellis-Durity first experienced Rocky Horror at the age of 16, she was empowered by Frank-N-Furter’s words: “Don’t dream it, be it.” They made her realize she could achieve more than she ever imagined. To her, Rocky Horror is the embodiment of sexual liberation and self-confidence.

First-timer Yannick Victor had never seen the film, he only knew of the production in passing from posters on the streets and the one scene in The Perks of Being a Wallflower. Victor was simply baffled by the name: Rocky. Horror. Picture. Show. Words that are recognized all over the world, but what do they mean? “I think that very confusion, that inability to put this cult event/show/ritual/performance thing into a box is what it’s about,” Victor said. “There’s a clear link for me now between Rocky Horror not fitting into a neat little category and the gender fluidity of the characters.”

Montreal’s second version of the picture show is held at the Imperial Theatre. At The Rocky Horror Picture Show Halloween Ball, a shadow cast acts alongside a screening of the original film. The audience is encouraged to dress up and interact with the cast, spraying water and throwing toilet paper, newspaper and toast at specific points during the screening.

“Honestly, sometimes I wish I actually got hit with the toast,” admitted performer Hannah Miller. “Seeing the crowd having so much fun, playing and being free like kids, is really beautiful. It is the strangest way to build community, but it really works.”

Ten years ago, Miller was introduced to the show by Heidi Rubin, who plays Frank-N-Furter in the Montreal production. Miller joined the cast as an assistant and played Eddie the following year. Miller has been playing “Montreal’s favourite asshole,” Brad Majors, ever since.

This year, Concordia student Zynor Majeed played Rocky. He has been part of the cast for six years and has played various roles. According to Majeed, the ball is much more “extravagant and campy” than any other production he has been part of, which is one of the reasons he loves doing it.

“It’s an event that is difficult to describe,” the performer admitted. ”You can never truly have expectations. It isn’t your conventional play or movie screening, and I think events that give audiences an experience they have likely never had before reasonably get them excited.” Rocky Horror, Majeed added, “has given me a space to explore my sexuality and identity.”

The Rocky Horror Picture Show is a rule-breaker, and there is antici… pation that its audience and performers will be too. It remains a curious cultural phenomenon that permits the audience to behave in ways that would be severely frowned upon at any other film screening, and brings together different generations through love and queerness.

Graphics by @spooky_soda

 

 

Categories
Student Life

Collective intervention is needed

The Rialto Theatre is on Park Ave, near the Outremont metro station. Photo by Alex Hutchins.

Everyone, especially artists, are economic agents for deregulation and gentrification

In a dimly lit basement, at the end of meandering halls beneath the performance hall of the Rialto Theatre, an eclectic group of concerned citizens gathered to openly discuss the nexus of artists, real estate inflation and shifting cultural demographics.

Gentrification: The Role of Artists in Changing Neighbourhoods took place on Saturday, Sept. 29 as part of a collaboration between POP Montreal Symposium and Concordia’s Fine Art Student Alliance (FASA). The array of panelists included both artists and those who work with non-profit social housing organizations and as community organizers in neighbourhoods affected by gentrification.

Cathy Inouye, a musician who has fought against many issues related to housing and poverty for more than 10 years, opened her segment by saying that an important thing to remember when talking about gentrification is that human beings are losing their homes or being evicted from their apartments. Faiz Abhuani, the co-founder of Brique Par Brique, a non-profit organization whose mission is to create affordable living spaces for marginalized people, agreed.

“I think it’s important to start with that baseline,” he said. “The reason why we’re talking about this is because there are real effects on real people.”

Gentrification is a multi-faceted issue that “happens across the city, not just in areas where artists are moving,” Inouye said. Abhuani contextualized the historic development of gentrification with artists and the North American economic shift over the last century from industrial labour services to cultural forms of production.

“People thought: ‘I really need to be around the people I’m like’ … and ‘I need to be close to places where culture is produced,’” Abhuani said. He explained that this economic shift prompted those with sufficient financial means to migrate to urban centres. These ongoing demographic migrations, from a capitalist-marketing standpoint, continue to justify urban development in regions that push people from lower-income brackets out of their homes.

“The people who benefit from these changes and from these large economic forces are the people who have means,” Abhuani said. “And the people who don’t [have financial means] are the ones who end up biting the bullet [and] having to move around.”

In gentrification, the role of artists—in this case, referring to individuals with the social status and capital to make a career from their art—lies in the fact that mass migration to more affordable neighbourhoods creates economic speculation, explained Fred Burrill, a Concordia PhD student who currently works with local non-profit organizations to fight for the right to housing in Place St-Henri.

“[Speculation] is a very intentional, state-driven process of changing the ways that [housing] investment is configured,” Burrill said. Speculation increases the property value in a community, and the demographic shift brought by artists provides local governments with a marketable, discursive framework that justifies their desire for urban development in alleged “up-and-coming” communities.

According to Burrill, the goal of speculation is to “turn the housing market from something that is based on supply and demand to something that is essentially a concrete manifestation of the stock market.” He used Griffintown in Montreal as an example. “[Artists] are all actively part of an ideological apparatus that’s used to justify deregulation.”

Artists often positively frame their contributions to the cultural fabric of a neighbourhood as genuinely representative of that community and reflective of their deep connection to its residents. However, Abhuani said this is a dangerous mentality because artists with social status are able to sell this culturally appropriated art and capitalize on it, while those without esteemed social status cannot. “So, maybe you shouldn’t do that, number one. Number two, why are you [in that neighbourhood]?” asked Abhuani. “You’re not there in a vacuum … You’re not just trying to create. You’re not just trying to survive. You’re trying to get ahead.”

All of the panelists agreed that the presence of artists in low-income neighbourhoods brings systemic gentrification to the community through selective state investment in development projects because cities want to support cultural hubs. Although artists may also be affected by rental increases and have to leave the neighbourhood, Abhuani explained, many of them not only have the social capital to relocate, “but they like doing that; they want to be on the forefront [of living] in certain neighborhoods.”

Inouye shared an observation from when she lived in New Orleans as a tuba player in 2012. “You could really see the mostly white kids from New York or from San Francisco moving in,” she explained. “You could see this hunger that people had to kind of own that beautiful magic that exists in New Orleans, and you could see them really wanting to connect with the community that had been there—the community that had lived through Katrina … You could really see this process unfolding, and it was so similar to colonialism.”

Inouye added that while it isn’t bad to want to connect with a given community, it is necessary to keep in mind how different people occupy the space in that community and how social and physical capital change the way people interact with that space.

Most concerned artists will ask themselves, “What can I do, as an artist, to fight against gentrification?” which, Burrill explained, is the wrong question. Artists and people in general should simply ask what needs to be done, without placing the individual at the epicentre of change. While the panelists agreed that gentrification can be throttled through the acquisition of real estate and income disparity can be bridged by wealth redistribution, concrete plans to combat these systemic issues still aren’t being enacted.

Despite some differences of opinion between the panelists, they all seemed to agree that one of the first steps to combating gentrification is community mobilization. Burrill explained that there tends to be an element of individualism when talking about the housing market and gentrification, with arguments such as encouraging better knowledge of tenant rights to avoid eviction and to fairly rent out living spaces.

“What actually needs to happen is that we need to intervene collectively in the [housing] market,” Burrill said. This would entail the city buying empty lots, removing them from the realm of speculation and reserving them for social housing projects, he explained. That, or artists can literally make their neighbourhoods more ugly, he said as a joke. “Beautification of neighborhoods without collective intervention in the housing market is simply a tool of development.”

Main photo by Alex Hutchins

Categories
Opinions

The final straw in ignoring the disabled community

Graphic by spooky_soda

The straw ban might help the environment, but it completely disregards one group of people

The excessive pollution the Earth has been plagued with in the last few decades is no secret to anyone. One can simply take a stroll down any beach to realize how we have failed to maintain a certain level of purification. Discarding cigarette butts, beer bottles and plastic water bottles in the sand and the ocean, as if the world is our dumpster. Shame on us. What happened to the world being our oyster?

In spite of the blatant disregard some humans have for the planet, one cannot ignore the numerous initiatives taken against excess pollution, urging individuals to take action. Greenpeace, for example, is a world-renowned organization aiming to restore the Earth to its former clean-slate glory and minimize environmental crises as best they can.

Lately, many countries and even some corporations around the world have taken it upon themselves to reduce plastic waste by banning plastic straws, since it is one of the many sources of ocean pollution. While this may be a step in the right direction for environmental issues, there is one thing that has not been taken into consideration.

When political, social or environmental solutions are discussed among government officials, I imagine they have a list of people they wish to please. Will this benefit women in general? Do we fear negative repercussions for people of colour? Are we sure the LGBTQ+ community is not badly affected by this? I am by no means critical when using this caricatural image of governmental discussion concerning serious matters. On the contrary, I believe I am being quite utopian when I say governments actually take all these people into consideration when making decisions.

Nonetheless, throughout the years, certain decisions have been made for the benefit of the aforementioned communities. And yet, more often than not, a specific group of people are blatantly disregarded: the disabled community. Disabled individuals may have their own parking spots, but even those get stolen by disrespectful people. I have even noticed at times, public transport isn’t accomodating to individuals in wheelchairs.

And now, while the ban on plastic straws is helpful to the environment, it is detrimental to a significant portion of the disabled community. It is a wonderful step toward bettering the planet, something even the disabled community doesn’t fail to applaud cities for. However, people seem to forget that the purpose of straws is not just to make your iced coffee easier to drink; it is vital to many disabled people’s lives.

I am by no means well-equipped to say this nor do I speak on behalf of the community, as an able-bodied woman. Nonetheless, I do not fail to see that more often than not, they are being ignored.

British YouTuber and TV presenter Jessica Kellgren-Fozard explained her take on the matter in an 11-minute video, stating that as a disabled woman, the ban of plastic straws was “the last straw.” It is another instance where the disabled community has been ignored. Diagnosed at 17 with hereditary neuropathy with liability to pressure palsies, she has difficulty gripping objects due to her weak limbs. Therefore, the use of plastic straws in her everyday life is vital.

In the video, Kellgren-Fozard explained that while the ban is helpful for the environment, plastic straw pollution only accounts for 0.025 per cent of oceanic pollution. It kind of makes you wonder why there is a sudden insistence on banning straws when there are far worse things to take care of, right?

I personally believe this governmental initiative (adopted by the US, U.K., and parts of Montreal, among others) is a step in the right direction. However, it is not perfect, as members of the disabled community have highlighted. It also made me think how we are often quick to take into account gender equality, racial issues and sexuality, but disabled people are oftentimes forgotten. While taking positive steps like banning plastic in general to help the environment is good, we shouldn’t forget about certain groups of people who might be deeply affected by such a ban. I believe with constant communication and learning, we can all build towards a clean planet suitable for all.

Graphic by spooky_soda

 

Categories
Student Life

Paving a career path

Moradi is an active member of the Concordia volunteer community and in May 2018 was presented the Young Alumni Award for her outstanding contributions to the university. Courtesy of Concordia University.

Niloofar Moradi speaks about fueling her ambition with passion

“For all aspiring engineers, find and follow your passion, work hard, work smart, get involved, feed your soul through volunteer work, and remember to carry the torch for the next generation,” said Noolifar Moradi, a Concordia University alumna and recipient of the 2018 Concordia Young Alumni Award.

The award is given to an alumni who has graduated in the last 15 years and continues to be involved in the Concordia community.

Moradi has always been an exemplary student. In 2010, she completed her bachelor’s in mechanical engineering at Concordia, and in 2015, gained a master’s in applied sciences at the École de technologie supérieure.

Her passion and commitment to aerospace engineering and her contribution to its community also led Moradi to win the Elsie MacGill Engineering Award for 2018.

Each year, eight women across Canada are nominated by the Northern Lights Aero Foundation (NLAF) for the Elsie MacGill Awards. Established in 2009, the NLAF honours outstanding women who have made a significant contribution to their field and continue to lay the groundwork and encourage other women to excel in the industry. Nominees are chosen based on their determination, perseverance, enthusiasm and personal accomplishments in aviation or aerospace engineering, as well as their ability to inspire others.

Moradi started as a turbo dynamics engineer and then shifted her focus to turbine mechanical design. She began her professional career at Rolls Royce Energy, but was still drawn to aerospace and aviation. When Moradi was offered a position at Pratt & Whitney, a top player in the aircraft engine manufacturing world, she accepted the challenge. Ever since then, Moradi has devoted her career to turbine aerodynamics and turbine design.

Despite having a lot on her plate at work, Moradi always makes time to give back to the university. “I do simple volunteering activities at Concordia,” she said.

When the university hosts its annual open house, it calls upon a group of alumni to spend a day talking to possible future students about what it’s like to study at Concordia. Moradi hasn’t missed the event for the past five or six years.“I find it so rewarding to be able to explain to people about my journey,” she said.

Moradi also attends numerous seminars and speaks to first-year students about the current job market, her experiences and what she’s taken away from that. “What I love about Concordia is that they made such a huge effort in preparing the students for the real world, by giving them talks, courses on software packages, it’s basically hands-on engineering,” she said. Moradi hopes to inspire students and push them to set goals for themselves.

“I do not see myself doing anything else on a daily basis,” says Moradi. “I truly believe that if you do what you’re passionate about, it won’t feel like a job, it will feel like following your passion.”

Feature image courtesy of Concordia University.

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Opinions

Just a sci-fi girl in an apathetic world

How attending Comiccon helped me find community

Anyone who’s spent a significant amount of time with me knows I’m a horror junkie. Even as a kid, I grasped onto any opportunity to feast my eyes on something that would permanently maim me. When I was just barely 10-years-old, I cherished sleepovers at my grandparents’ house because my grandmother would take me to the video store and let me pick out any DVD I wanted.

At home, I was never allowed to watch anything rated PG-13 or higher. I was sequestered while adults watched movies that all my friends had seen, like Titanic or Grease, until I hit double digits. My parents deemed Kate Winslet’s nipples and hickeys from Kenickie as content far too inappropriate for my prepubescent eyes.

My mom’s parents were never the sheltering type, though. Nor were they fond of enforcing strict bedtimes. The first horror movie I remember watching was in their basement, shortly after midnight, both of them fast asleep on the couch beside me. It was Child’s Play—often colloquially referred to as Chucky. The film is a 1988 Tom Holland slasher (the first of seven in the series) about a possessed doll who terrorizes a little boy and his mother. To an adult, it’s a fun, vulgar, slightly cheesy hour and a half. As a child, it was virtually my worst nightmare—and I couldn’t get enough.

Luckily, it wasn’t hard to find others that shared my dark taste in cinema, especially as I got older. From supernatural scares at seventh grade slumber parties, to ninth grade torture porn marathons, to Marble Hornets binges during senior year, I found that most of my friends shared this interest of mine (or at least tolerated it). I’m guilty of making a good handful of boys sit through the classics with me. My first relationship started in my family’s dingy basement, kissing on an old couch while the credits rolled on Friday the 13th. Our hearts pounded in our ears as a result of teen hormones, but mostly because of that insane shot where Jason Voorhees’ decomposing body shoots out of the water and totally wrecks Adrienne King.

The thing with horror is that, while it’s not necessarily everyone’s cup of tea, it’s become relatively accepted. It’s not hard to find people to bond over it with. Yes, an obsession with it might be off-kilter, but it still makes for good conversation, pizza night entertainment, and background noise for makeout sessions. Throughout my 20-something years, I never really considered my interest in horror to be “nerdy”. It was so vast and varied as a genre that I wasn’t forced to identify with a particular group. There was something in it for almost everyone. Before last summer, I hadn’t truly known what it was like to be into something that few people understood.

About a year ago, I discovered The X-Files—a sci-fi television show about two FBI agents who investigate cases that deal with the supernatural. I had always been generally aware of The X-Files. I knew it existed. Most people I knew had either tuned in occasionally when it originally aired in the 90s, or had seen an episode or two on Netflix and given up. One night, I came across it in my “Top Picks” and decided to give it a chance. It was one of those rare occasions where, from episode one, I knew I’d hit the jackpot. Everything about it screamed “me”. I promptly reached out to anyone and everyone I knew and was shocked to find that literally no one in my personal life thought anything of it. Not only did the show not stand out to them as special, but some people even admitted outright that they hated it.

Aside from a few other fans I found in real life who I texted during major plot twists, watching The X-Files was a completely solitary experience for me. I watched each of the 11 seasons and two films all by myself. Because of this, my experience of the show was very private in nature. It felt like my dirty little secret—an escape of sorts. I spent hours laughing, crying, and gasping in front of my television screen during popcorn-fueled binge sessions after the rest of my family went to bed. I became deeply attached to the characters. Unlike horror movies, it was the first time I had an obsession that I couldn’t share. It truly felt like the show had been created for me, and the fact that I had no one to experience it with was both entirely uplifting and mildly heartbreaking.

Up until this point, I had little-to-no experience with nerd culture. I’d never picked up a comic book, I didn’t really like anime, I’d seen only a handful of superhero movies, and I thought “gaming” was something that 30-year-old white guys with neckbeards did in their moms’ basements while double fisting Mountain Dew and Doritos. Plus, I had always associated nerd culture with sexism. In my mind, “nerdy” spaces were cesspools of male cliques firing off condescending remarks and participating in sexual harassment. I wanted no part of it.

Nearly every time I clicked into an online forum discussing The X-Files, my preconceived notions of these spaces were instantly validated. I simply didn’t feel welcome. This was jarring, especially considering the feminist tones of the show. I was annoyed and I concluded it was an interest I’d just keep to myself. But, it was lonely. I wanted so badly to be a part of a community I could share it with.

When I was first offered the opportunity to attend Montreal Comiccon as a member of the media this year, I was skeptical. I wanted to go to see if I could find fellow “X-Philes,” but I knew I’d have to write up something about the convention, and I didn’t want to have to write a scathing review about a toxic environment. Boy, were my preconceived notions ever wrong.

Montreal Comiccon completely shifted my perspective on what it means to be a nerd. It channeled what the true spirit of what being a “nerd” really is. I mean, where else on earth can you walk into a room full of strangers by yourself and instantly feel completely welcome and at ease? Where else can someone who is in love with an odd, campy, 90s television show about aliens find a thousand other people who feel the same way?

Walking into a room full of hundreds of “X-Philes,” I felt the most included and myself I had in a long time. It also made me realize that nerds weren’t all straight, white men in cargo shorts tweeting about #GamerGate and quoting The Big Bang Theory. Nerds were 10-year-old girls, drag queens, disabled people, gay couples, women of colour… I suddenly realized that this thing—this series that I had turned into such a private indulgence—was far bigger than just my secret obsession. These characters that I had developed one-sided relationships with weren’t just mine, they were ours. They helped us all relate to one another.

Comiccon takes a person’s private experience with art and makes it social. The main reason people attend is to meet other people and find those who love the same stuff they do. Making friends only gets harder as you age, so finding somewhere you can be yourself, express gratitude to the artists behind your favourite work, and meet people from different walks of life with shared interests is something pretty special.

There will always be cliques, fandoms, and rivalries. We will always be into different kinds of art. We’ll always experience that art differently from one another. Comiccon showcases that perfectly, but also reminds us that, at the end of the day, we’re all just huge freakin’ nerds. Together.

Graphic by Wednesday Laplante

Categories
Arts

Grab a pint and a paint brush

Jessica Di Giacomo, right, explains to Mia Anhoury how to add more definition by using white around the eyes. Photo by Alex Hutchins.

Concordi’ART hosts an evening of artistic exploration in collaboration with Paint Nite Montreal

Rather than spend a typical night out at a bar, a group of 20 Concordia students participated in an evening of drinking and painting hosted by Concordi’ART, in collaboration with Paint Nite Montreal, at Peel Pub on March 7.

According to Nathalie Sjarova, the vice-president external of Concordi’ART, the aim of the club is to create a community of people who enjoy both art and business. Concordi’ART’s motto is “building bridges between business and art.”

Alizé Honen-Delmar, the club’s president who is currently on exchange in Australia, created Concordi’ART in February 2017. Sjarova, a marketing student, jumped at the opportunity to be part of the executive team when she saw a post on Facebook seeking candidates.

Concordi’ART aims to encourage and help connect two typically dichotomous worlds. “Art students can learn a lot from business students, but also business students can learn a lot from art students,” Sjarova said. “It’s a very huge asset to be creative in [the business] environment, and at the end of the day, artists are entrepreneurs.”

Concordi’ART executives from left: Céline Salibi, Diana Jane Tran, Yonathan Chu, Sarah Morstad, Vincent Letarte and Nathalie Sjarova. Photo by Alex Hutchins.

Last week’s Paint Nite was an opportunity to bring people together to make art. Jessica Di Giacomo and Daniel Torchinsky, the co-producers of Paint Nite Montreal, led the painting tutorial.

A plate with large drops of paint in the primary colours—blue, yellow, red—as well as black and white, four paint brushes and a nicely rolled up apron were set up next to each white canvas sitting on a mini easel.

The goal for everyone was to recreate a painting that illustrated a close-up of an owl’s face. The first step was to outline the eyes with bright yellow and orange, and outline the beak with intimidating and unforgiving black.

Slowly but surely, the canvases went from white to covered in different self-made shades of green and blue.

With “drink-and-dry breaks” between each of the three layers of paint, participants were able to socialize, encourage one another and take a look at all the owls being created.

Paint Nites combine art and drinks for an evening of creativity and socializing. Photo by Alex Hutchins.

The final layer of paint required short brush strokes dipped in shades of blue, green and white to create a feather-like texture.

Despite all participants following the same steps and recreating the same painting, there was still room to express creativity. Some participants preferred to blend out the feathers, while others had a distinct ombré effect, going from light green to dark blue. Each eye varied in size from canvas to canvas, and one participant, Nathan Marrache, decided to paint Angry Bird-like eyes.

“It’s amazing how everyone’s painting looks so different even though it’s supposed to be the same,” said Marrache after he looked at everyone’s final paintings.

Paint Nite hosts events almost every day at various venues. More information can be found on their website: www.paintnite.com. Further information about Concordi’ART and any upcoming events can be found on its Facebook page.

Photos by Alex Hutchins

Categories
Opinions

Reducing homelessness in Montreal

Graphic by Zeze Le Lin.

We often see them on the metros, street corners and in alleyways. We usually ignore them to avoid guilt and perhaps uncomfortable conversations. According to a 2015 study commissioned by Mayor Denis Coderre’s administration, there are 3,016 homeless people in Montreal. Those are the same homeless people we see every day and, unfortunately, often ignore.

In 2014, city workers installed “anti-loitering” spikes that were meant to deter people from sitting in certain areas. They were removed after receiving backlash from Coderre, as he called the spikes “anti-homeless,” since many homeless people often sleep near those areas. The same mayor is now heavily focusing on homelessness in Montreal for his municipal election campaign. According to the Montreal Gazette, Coderre promised to sleep on the city’s streets to show he has the homeless in mind. And, more importantly, he is now considering implementing wet shelters in Montreal. Wet shelters allow homeless alcoholics to consume alcohol under supervision, with the goal of gradually lowering their dependence on the substance.

The Toronto Star reported such shelters already exist in Toronto and Ottawa, and work well in those cities. The wet shelters would be similar to safe injecting sites, where addicts can reduce harm when using substances. Along with the wet shelters, Coderre also has new initiatives to reduce homelessness in Montreal, according to CTV News. These include a second census of Montreal’s homeless population, 400 more spaces in rooming houses, and services aimed at youth, the LGBTQ+ community, women and Indigenous communities.

We at The Concordian think it’s great that Coderre wants to address homelessness in Montreal, and we hope his initiatives are carried out. It’s promising to see that he’s interested in improving the conditions for homeless people, but we hope he doesn’t get distracted by theatrics.

It’s also important to realize that, although Montreal’s mayor is now focusing on homelessness in the city, other community members have been doing so for a while—and have affected real change. Toe2Toe, for example, is a non-profit organization run by Chris Costello, a Montrealer. The initiative focuses on giving homeless people proper footwear, namely socks—a piece of clothing that’s often overlooked. According to their website, since 2014, the organization “has raised thousands of dollars and collected more than 15,000 pairs of socks for the homeless.” The organization also speaks to various community groups in order to raise awareness about homelessness and the importance of proper footwear.

Another community member, Gilles Chiasson, started a knitting group that aims to let homeless people know they aren’t ignored by the Montreal community. Chiasson has experienced homelessness, according to the Montreal Gazette, and he said he hopes to protect homeless people from cold weather with sweaters, leg warmers and hats. However, the knitting group’s main goal is to form a sense of connection between homeless people and the rest of the community. In the same article, Chiasson explained that homeless people often don’t feel connected to their families or community. He said he believes that if a homeless person receives something that was hand-knitted for them, it will make them feel like someone is attempting to connect with them, and that someone cares.

There was also the recent launch of the online tool 2000Solutions that illustrates data and information about homeless people in Montreal. The organization also aims to house 2,000 homeless people by the year 2020, and they want to prove it is possible to change a homeless person’s life.

Ultimately, it’s important to note that there have been efforts by community members in past years to eradicate homelessness, or at least raise awareness. Groups like Toe2Toe, Chiasson’s knitting group and 2000Solutions are just some of the ways Montrealers have tried to help fellow Montrealers. We at The Concordian strongly hope Coderre, if re-elected, follows through with his initiatives to improve the conditions of homelessness in our city.

We hope he sticks to his promises. A determined mayor can play a big role in helping us come together and help our fellow community members. And more importantly, we hope this editorial has made you wonder what more you can do to help the homeless.

Graphic by Zeze Le Lin 

Categories
Opinions

Learning when to speak and when to listen

Graphics by Zeze Le Lin.

Joseph Boyden controversy opens up a larger discussion about cultural appropriation

Joseph Boyden is one of the most celebrated Canadian writers to ever take pen to paper. He has claimed an Indigenous heritage throughout his career, and most of his work centres around this identity. Since the start of his career in 2005, with his debut novel Three Day Road, Boyden has won numerous awards, including the Canada First Novel Award, the Rogers Writers’ Trust Fiction Prize, the Scotiabank Giller Prize and the McNally Robinson Aboriginal Book of the Year Award.

However, in December 2016, the Aboriginal People’s Television Network (APTN) discovered Boyden has no Indigenous heritage. APTN reported that even though Boyden has claimed ties to Métis, Mi’kmaq, Ojibway and Nipmuc communities throughout his life, they were unable to find any specific links to these communities. According to the report, “Boyden has never publicly revealed exactly from which earth his Indigenous heritage grows. It has been an ever shifting, evolving thing.”

Some of the things the APTN researched were his family tree and a book about the Boyden family that was published in 1901. After researching his familial claims and ancestry, the network learned that his inconsistent claims lead to a lack of concrete proof of his Indigenous heritage.

Boyden himself remained relatively silent after that, until the beginning of August when he responded to the allegations made against him by writing an article in Maclean’s. He said he’d taken a DNA test that showed he’s a “mutt,” and went on to list the results of the test. Boyden claimed these results indicated he is part Indigenous.

Prior to Boyden’s response in Maclean’s, an article from Vice News featured Métis writer Aaron Paquette saying that being Indigenous isn’t about DNA. He echoed a claim Boyden himself made on Twitter in his response to the controversy: “It is about community. It is about who claims you.” But who exactly claims Joseph Boyden?

In his Maclean’s article, Boyden vaguely claimed to have been “adopted by a number of people in Indigenous communities.” Robert Jago, a member of Kwantlen First Nation, was one of the researchers who questioned Boyden’s ancestry. In an article on Canadaland, he questioned the validity of being adopted by many communities, since the term “First Nations” refers to the many individual communities that make up the broader Indigenous community. “There is no person in Canada who is Indigenous without first having a national identity,” he said. In other words, you can belong to the Indigenous community in Canada, but you can’t belong to more than one of the individual groups that make up that broader community. Boyden claimed to be just that, which highlights his misconception around what it means to be Indigenous. If he misunderstood this key part of Indigenous identity, think about the other things he could have misunderstood and the problem with him spreading misinformation like this while claiming that he himself is Indigenous.

Some may say that, despite his questionable methods, Boyden helped raise awareness for Indigenous communities, but Jago refuted that claim in the same article for Canadaland, saying: “Being Indigenous is not a requirement to stand up for Indigenous rights.”

There seems to remain some uncertainty about whether Boyden was mistaken about his heritage or purposely deceitful. Regardless, this controversy opens up a larger, increasingly present debate about cultural appropriation. Although Boyden did spread awareness for Indigenous issues, there’s a potential his actions were harmful to the community as a whole if he took away speaking opportunities, money and cultural context from genuine Indigenous voices.

There exists a fine line between spreading awareness about relevant issues and being a part of the problem when sharing Indigenous stories without belonging to that community. This situation is about non-Indigenous people knowing—or at least being willing to learn—when it’s their turn to talk, and when it’s time to step aside and allow Indigenous people an opportunity to tell their own stories. This is a lesson for not only Boyden, but for all non-Indigenous Canadians who want to right the wrongs of their ancestors—myself included.

Graphics by Zeze Le Lin.

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