De Montréal

One of our wonderful hosts Anna Carastathis has introduced me to one of the many cafés here in Mile End called Le Deppeneur. In the corner is a group of three early teenage boys playing a version of Neil Young’s Everybody knows this is nowhere , a perfect replica of the ultimate Canadian nostalgia of an aspiring musician in their youth. Coming from Halifax and Guelph, both of which comparatively lack cultural diversity, I am very curious and excited to learn that Mile End houses a very evident and substantial Hassidic Jewish community, something that is very new to me and I know very little about. There is an incredible bagel shop down the street which I can’t seem to get enough of, and between visiting friends, showing the suitcase, and seeing as much art as humanly possible, our time here seems limited, with never a lull between events, screaming with potential, especially considering our contacts and ties here are limited, almost strictly Anglophone.

Between our presentation and talk at Concordia’s VAV gallery to a tiny group of about 4 or 5 people, and our opening that evening, Kit, Adair, and I somehow managed to weave our way through the frantic Thursday evening rush hour traffic to pick up beer and organize the loft at The Bread Factory for that night. The Bread Factory loft apartment in Montréal’s neighborhood of St. Henri seemed an appropriate venue for the featured suitcase of Kit Malo. The small black suitcase contains a beautifully illustrated storybook about the gentrification that is currently taking place in industrial St. Henri, and how it interweaves with the tales of a local hero Louis Cyr, who was once known as the world’s strongest man. Despite the stressful last minute planning of the opening, it turned out to be a great night, with live performances by poets Sara Mangle and Dan Gillean, and lovely music by Snailhouse. The loft was spacious, with hard wood floors, high ceilings, and huge front windows, allowing us to disperse the suitcases throughout the apartment, and have live performances, without too much cluttered confusion. We are booked almost fully solid with a number of appointment bookings in stranger’s apartments, and a presentation and curator’s talk at articule artist run centre.

The cross on Mont Royal is now purple until a new pope is elected, while the streets of Montreal are still left with lingering remnants of the student protests about the government withdrawl of money from the post-secondary education system. After being in Alma and Ste. Thérèse where we felt very optimistic with restored hope about both the provincial and municipal government support for social causes such as the arts and education, we were reminded by these protests how important it is to maintain these services and how much of a responsibility the public has in playing an active role to voice our opinions on such matters. Although it was scary to see the education system in such a state of disrepair, it was inspiring to notice that the community was far more outspoken in it’s approach to solving such a problem. This is something that isn’t evident enough in places like Nova Scotia, that are bursting with potential, with thousands of artists and arts enthusiasts, with no collective direction to establish a strong enough support network to maintain a community that is desirable for young emerging artists to begin their careers. It is this collective support from artists, the government, and the public interest in the arts that has made Montréal a desirable place for struggling artists to move to. I can now understand why it is tempting for many young Maritime artists to move here.

So as we approach Ontario soon with high expectations and now 7 suitcases full of artwork to show in Kingston for a night and then in Toronto for a week, we are tired yet inspired, and are gaining momentum which is exciting and a little bit scary at the same time.

Until then, I wish you all the very best,

Much love,

Michael.