I do belong here: A Conversation with Flo Fortune

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Flo Fortune by Marie Marchandise

Editor’s note: The following interview and video essay mentions eating disorders and bullying. Reader discretion is advised.

Why do we take pictures of ourselves? Why do we share them? Why do we want to be published? Why do we desire to wear pieces that transform us–armors wrapped around us, there to reassure us–allowing us to become characters injecting freedom into our lives, and granting us the strength to become ourselves? Why do we give life to handmade creations, conceived by spirits whose thoughts only stop at the first clanking sounds of their sewing machines, or when their threads puncture fabric for the first time? Why do we create threads between all of us? Why do we forge ties? Why do we want to meet each other? Why do we create a human and colorful universe? Why do we inspire each other, and feed each other with beautiful visual stories–the ones that smoothly impact you–remaining embedded in your mind? The ones that give you hope, that beckon you, when leafing through glossy pages or watching a fashion show? 

All these questions suddenly find an answer when Flo Fortune opens the doors of this grand dance studio, enveloped between high trees, sun, and silence. Fortune, a professional model, arises quietly and elegantly, such as the echo of their steps on the floor. They are waiting for one thing only: the camera revolving around them; to catch and control it.

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Marie Marchandise for Also Cool Mag: How would you present yourself? How do you think you are seen? How would you love to be remembered?

Flo Fortune: I’m Flo, a 28-year-old queer, midsize model, social media consultant, mental health advocate, writer, and anorexia survivor. 

I think I am seen as a brave person, as I never shy away from stating the mental health issues I’ve dealt with. Being openly vulnerable, on and offline, isn’t easy, but I know for a fact that it can help people feel less lonely in a society that values so-called perfection and success at all costs.

People might also perceive me as a woman because I’m very femme-presenting, which can be difficult to process sometimes.

I want to be remembered as someone who always did what they thought was right and tried their best to achieve what they wanted, even when it seemed impossible.

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Flo Fortune by Marie Marchandise

Also Cool: What is it like to be a model in Paris?

Flo Fortune: No need to sugarcoat it, it’s really hard. Paris is the city of fashion, but in a very traditional way. There is, to this day, very little room for the misfits, fat people, midsize people, people of colour, and disabled people.

For the most part, we simply do not exist, and the ones who made it went through a lot to get there. Diversity isn’t a priority or a goal; it’s mostly a marketing tool. I couldn’t name more than five fat, midsize or nonbinary French models who managed to succeed in France. When it comes to disabled models, it’s like they don’t even exist in the French market. It’s a shame, and I think that the “Parisienne” myth has a lot to do with that.

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Flo Fortune by Marie Marchandise

AC: What defines a “good” model, to you?

FF: Someone who isn’t afraid of not looking pretty, who is ready to play a role, to tell a story. Someone who can use their vulnerability, their story, and their strength to create “the shot.” You have to be okay with the fact that you will give a piece of who you are when on set. Not everything has to be about measurements. Agencies are now, more than ever, looking for personalities, people who have a voice, and things to bring to the table.

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Flo Fortune by Marie Marchandise

AC: How can fashion be more political? What are the first “baby steps” to make the industry more in sync with our era and society?

FF: There are tons of topics that should be discussed and actions to be taken. Sustainability, access to fashion schools, diversity, and ethical work, to name a few. However, none of these issues will ever be truly discussed since most of the industry is still ruled by white, aging, cis male billionaires.

Brands, Maisons, magazines and agencies have to take responsibility and hire people of colour, disabled people, young people, queer people, and fat people, at every level.

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Flo Fortune by Marie Marchandise

AC: Are there any true changes that you’ve spotted?

FF: There are lots of exciting projects that keep me from being pessimistic. For example, I really hope that brands like Marine Serre or Ester Manas, who are getting recognition in France, will inspire others to showcase the same amount of diversity on the runway. Similarly, concerning their sustainable fabric-sourcing, I believe they can influence small designers to consider eco-friendly alternatives and new production processes.

In 2022, I came across many podcasts and Instagram accounts whose goals are to desacralize the fashion industry and share resources. Be it by posting upcycling hacks or addressing issues, such as the colonial dynamics that are still at play within the fashion industry. 

Another thing that comes to my mind is the current debate about nepo babies. We’re finally collectively talking about the fact that most people in fashion don’t come from the working class and that it has to change! 

That being said, I think it’s fair to say that change is being pushed by “small” creators, brands, journalists and so on, and not by those who have the actual power and the means to make a huge positive impact. 

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Flo Fortune by Marie Marchandise

AC: What are you hoping to change in the industry?

FF: Let’s face it, I might be queer and midsize, but I’m still a non-fat white person. I know that I have an easier path than others. That being said, I do think that working in this industry, being who I am, knowing where I come from and how narrow-minded the modeling industry is, is already a push in the right direction. Being "a face and a body" isn’t enough. I want to use my voice and work on projects that mean something as much as I can. Be it by working with sustainable, QTBIPOC-led brands, queer photographers, or truly inclusive agencies.

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Flo Fortune by Marie Marchandise

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I do belong here credits

Model: @manicpixiefuckk
MUA: @paulinemakeupro
Hair: @lapetitevictoulouse
Dress: @noemiedevime.paris
Lingerie: @eternel_ephemere_underwear
Nails: @nailedbyines
Jewels: @labricotbleu, @annashelley.fr, @jeannette.atelier, @cecile.dallaglio_jewellery, @maaadboutique
Location: @residencedesartstoulouse  

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Marie Marchandise

Marie Marchandise is a 28-year-old photographer, art director, and PR specialist living in Toulouse, France. When she was a child, she wanted to be a poet. Growing up, she was obsessed with the fact that she actually wanted to be helpful: she wanted to be a vet, a psychologist, or a lawyer. With arts and PR, she combines the inherent desire of her first dream job as a child, and her inner need developed from her teenage years into adulthood.  When she tells visual and written stories with brands, designers, models, and creatives, she contributes to a bigger picture. If you feel something when looking at her photographs or reading her texts, it means that her job is done. If you are inspired, motivated, looking for something new thanks to them, this is more than she could ever dream of. 

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Flo Fortune 

Fashion is, for me, a tool to get my own emancipation. A way to explore. A means to reach self-definition on its own. Fabrics and textiles represent artistic expressions, helping me to exist. As a child, fashion allowed me to be alive when the rest of the world wanted me to disappear. Today, when I’m wearing clothes, I am always diving somewhere else, into a new universe. Every time. Every day. My individuality is asserted thanks to fashion. I want to be loud. I am clear: I belong here. I am doing this job as I am craving poetry and creativity. I am eagerly looking for different ways and options to communicate and create a sustainable and healthy bond with persons who are not only like me, but inspire me. I want to give back that inspiration, I want to breathe in and breathe out in studios, catwalks, and magazines. I am doing this for the past versions of myself that thought too many times that I needed to suffer and starve myself to create beautiful pictures. I am doing this job to prove that you can fall many times, yet always pick yourself up, stand up, and rise up.

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La Luna Naranja: Exploring the Collaboration of Amalia Naranjo, Luna Nashar, and Oriana Confente

Amalia Naranjo modelling the La Luna Naranja collection. Photo courtesy of Oriana Confente

“Every night, I am alone. I transform into

different shapes

Every 28 days.”

As seasons begin to change, I have found myself getting further swept up by pensiveness under the night sky. The evenings draw longer, leaving a collection of charcoal clouds and twinkling stars which further illustrate the vastness that surrounds us and the bittersweet reality that everything must shift. Who are we in relation to each other, to our environment, and to past versions of ourselves?

The latest creative collaboration between Montreal-based artists Luna Nashar, Amalia Naranjo and Oriana Confente contends with such questions, linking tote-bag aficionados across the universe with a transcendent connection. La Luna Naranja was released earlier this summer; its canvas was carefully designed by Naranjo and Nashar, and captured by Confente with a warm and decadent editorial photoshoot. On La Luna Naranja, the trio shares:

“La Luna Naranja offers a unique fragment of what forms a Bigger image. In this fast-paced life, we go through ours with a small perspective of what's happening around us, letting our surroundings affect how we grow and reshape into our new self. The uniqueness of a Luna Naranja bag represents the beauty of individuality while still being a part of a more complex whole. A 1x1 metre canvas, hand painted by Amalia Naranjo. Each tote bag, unique, is a part of a greater picture. United, they create the original piece. However, the canvas was never meant to keep its beauty for itself. Cut, folded and sewn, it shares its true purpose: unity through art.”

The project alluringly melds temporality with an everlasting vibrance – what began as one has been reborn as many, and the many have been immortalized as one. Although the fragments of La Luna Naranja have each found their forever homes, their bond—much like ours with the past, present, and future—remains fused throughout the phases of the night sky. Also Cool Mag recently connected with Naranjo, Nashar, and Confente to discuss their creative bonds and their visions for La Luna Naranja.

Amalia Naranjo modelling the La Luna Naranja collection. Photo courtesy of Oriana Confente

Rebecca L. Judd for Also Cool Mag: Thank you all for sharing your creativity with Also Cool! To start, I would love to know a bit more about each of you and your respective practices. Can you elaborate on how this collaboration came about? How did you folks cross paths, and which artistic values or interests have you bonded over?

Luna Nashar: Amalia and I met on set of my first editorial in 2020, and I met Oriana at my very first art exhibition a year later! Since then, we have created opportunities for ourselves to connect and grow together as creatives. 

I am inspired by Amalia’s unapologetic approach to her art. She is a multidisciplinary artist, and [through this project] I really wanted to challenge her and get to know her as a painter. 

Oriana is a perfect fit on the project. Her use of film photography reinforces the “one-of-a-kind” theme of the project. I also love discussing sustainability in fashion with Oriana – we both are big on thrifting! It was interesting to have her on this project where a new art piece is recycled into a tote.

Oriana Confente: I actually met Amalia on the same night I met Luna at her exhibition last year. That was the first time I had seen Luna’s textiles and Amalia’s paintings. 

It’s funny how sometimes you encounter people and you just click. Like Luna mentioned, we connected over sustainability in fashion and I admire her approach to design. I love that Luna often repurposes deadstock fabrics, and I’m obsessed with her interpretations of the female form. I mean… pussy pockets. What a concept! I have at least three at home, and I’m sure that I’ll own more soon. 

I fully agree with Luna – I’m also inspired by Amalia’s unapologetic approach to her work. Getting to know her more through the events and projects that Luna organized has been lovely. It was especially fun to have an opportunity for Amalia to model with pieces she co-created. Funnily enough, this shoot was supposed to just be for e-commerce at first, but it evolved into so much more. I am thankful for transformation!

Amalia Naranjo: Like Luna said, we met in September 2020 for her editorial photoshoot. A year after that, I met Oriana at Luna’s art exhibition The Red Room. Their energy always felt so pure and real to me, when Luna proposed to me to collaborate with her on a tote bag project where I would get to paint, I was really excited to jump in. 

I immediately bonded with Luna. I loved her style, her creativity and her aesthetics, but mostly her perspective on arts and community values. She has the gift of bringing interesting creative people together so we can share and collaborate on our creations. Oriana’s artistic approach on themes like nature and technology and how they can co-exist really captured my attention. I admire the complexity of her projects and how she talks about it in an effortless manner.

Also Cool: La Luna Naranja fuses individual pieces into a greater narrative about transformation, reflecting on interconnectedness between eras and experiences. Tell us more about how this is thematically reflected in the collection, and what you’ve learned in creating it.

Luna: I feel like a bond of sisterhood developed throughout the project, as we learned from each other and spent time with each other's art. It was fruitful to share and be part of different challenges when it comes to our different mediums. As I sewed the totes, I could tell where Amalia put more paint! It was really fun to imagine her creative process as I was transforming her art.

Also, it was lovely seeing people choose which tote would be theirs. It reflects their uniqueness. I feel like La Luna Naranja created a small community where each one-of-a-kind tote is carried by an exceptional soul who shares a love for the art piece. The sisterhood that we shared together is for the community.

Amalia: When I had to come up with a design, I knew I wanted to bring a sense of uniqueness to every individual bag, so I knew that it wouldn’t be a single pattern throughout the whole fabric. But I also wanted it to be all connected and dynamic to represent movement and change through time and space – hence the lines that travel through the whole piece. There are also the different shapes of what seem to be naturally-rounded balls, but whose shapes change depending on their surroundings – just like us. Humans are affected by our surroundings, and we change as we move through time and space.

Amalia Naranjo modelling the La Luna Naranja collection. Photo courtesy of Oriana Confente

AC: I’m interested in the prospect of “unity through art”; how the repurposing of this piece into tote bags helped it to achieve a higher level — “its true purpose”. As artists, was there a moment when you felt that this was achieved?

Luna: Great art is life-changing. Traditionally, a painting is appreciated in a specific space. Repurposing it into a timeless piece elongates its narrative. I love the idea that you get to spend time with a piece that makes you feel a certain way. 

Transforming Amalia’s art was a very big moment for me – especially the first cut! I feel like a bond of sisterhood developed throughout that process of transformation. Although, the greatest feeling is knowing those tote bags are part of someone else’s life now. Maybe we should do a reunion with all the La Luna Naranja carriers!

Amalia: I could not say it better, Luna! By giving the art piece a utility, its purpose definitely adds more to the symbolism of moving through time and space with the user, and the sense of unity with all the people involved in this creation and the consumer is defined. I feel like this project keeps reaching higher levels. From doing a playful photoshoot, wearing the big painted fabric, to wearing the individual tote bags while doing more of a conceptual photoshoot. I feel it even more when I see people using it in their everyday lifestyle, and finally, when I see it published in a magazine for all eyes to see!

Amalia Naranjo modelling the La Luna Naranja collection. Photo courtesy of Oriana Confente

AC: I’d love to hear more about the intentions with colour in the piece, both as totes and in this photoshoot. 

Luna: Each emotion that each colour communicates, I want to feel and experience. I wear what I feel, and I am very comfortable expressing those feelings. I like finding balance in those emotions and I believe Oriana did a great job capturing that!

Oriana: Luna and Amalia are both incredibly vibrant human beings, in terms of the work they create but also in terms of who they are. Capturing their essence in this editorial was important to all of us. 

Amalia came to the set with electric blue eyeliner, and Luna had the spontaneous idea to throw some yellow lace she had in the studio over the backdrop… It came together quite naturally. 

Amalia: I cherry-picked the colours to create a vibrant palette of a nice variety, one that represented a diverse range of feelings and states. I also had fun blending various colours inside the balls, which was again to represent free movement and transformation. I chose to paint the lines black so that they could be neutral while the balls do all the eye-catching with their bright changing colors. When it came to the photoshoot, we approached colour in the same way: we went extra on the colour palette with the electric blue eye makeup, the extravagant red backdrop and the bright yellow lace. 

AC: Thank you all for your time! To close things off, what are each of you up to next, creatively? Are there any future collaborations in the works?

Luna: I am currently working on a new collection of bags in collaboration with a vintage store in Montreal, where transformation is also a major theme. Truly, collaborations are essential to every artist's growth. 

Oriana: Luna and I are starting a new project together! My practice, through photography and other creative means, is interested in disrupting consumerism and repurposing materials. I work with electronic waste (e-waste) a lot. Right now, Luna and I are co-designing garments that incorporate e-waste we’re collecting from friends and family. 

I’ve created e-waste accessories before—like earrings made from microchips—so it’s exciting to be working with a skilled designer like Luna to make more elaborate wearables. Plus, sharing talents and merging practices continues to commit us to transformation and unity through art. Collaboration and making-with is crucial for any type of community. I’m grateful I can experience that artistically with really cool folks. 

Amalia: I am very proud to say that as La Luna Naranja sold out very quickly, I am currently working on a new collection of painted tote bags with Luna. I am also working on a collection of paintings to have my own art exhibit soon. I am looking forward to more collabs with more creatives as I believe we can only do so much more amazing stuff when we work together.

Medusa, a “pussy pocket” bag produced by Luna Nashar. Photo courtesy of Luna Nashar

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La Luna Naranja

Modelled by Amalia Naranjo

Photographed by Oriana Confente

Garments produced by Luna Nashar

Tote bags designed by Luna Nashar and Amalia Naranjo

Hair styled by FirstClass Hair

Make-up by Dorianys Naranjo

Assisted by Vladim Vilain

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Luna Nashar

Website | Instagram

Oriana Confente

Website | Instagram | Twitter

Amalia Naranjo

Instagram

Rebecca L. Judd is the features editor of Also Cool Mag. She writes and creates out of her studio apartment in Ottawa, kept company by vivid dreams and a cuddly grey kitty named Dora.

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Artist Spotlight: Sophie El Assaad

Hello, and welcome to a small walk-through of the world of Sophie El Assaad.

Sophie is an award-winning designer, director, and theatre-maker, and she cannot help but ooze her lovely sweet creative aura. I would describe her energy as a light fluffy mist that may crack with a low rumble or quick flash of lightning. 

With her company, Theatre Nuaj, she has developed the project Black Balloon in many iterations: live outdoors in Centaur Theatre’s Portico Project late 2020, as Leila, a short film presented at Centaur Theatre’s 2021 Wildside Festival, and through multiple residencies.

This interview was held over two sessions with the intent to give a non-linear progression and experience of Sophie’s thoughts and world through visuals, direct quotes, as well as some snippets of her work or inspiration.

Sophie has curated a playlist here, that I would encourage you to listen to as you read through.

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Segment from experimental video ( Sophie El Assaad, circa 2014)

I thought about this word yesterday.
[ Underbelly ]

Maybe I should have used it when describing themes I like to work with artistically; the hidden violent side that exists in people.

“For my birthday, my dad got me a cake, my mum got me a cake, and my sister got me a cake. It was perfect.”

On working in residency on Black Balloon:

In the past, I approached work via building a very solid core and working my way out of it, but what my last creation residency has done (working with dancers and movement actors) was it allowed me to be use impulse and intuition, working from the outside in, and discovering what that means afterward — the whole process of trusting the work and the process has been super interesting — very scary and always kept me on my toes, but, in the end, amounted to something reliant on body and emotions rather than intellectuality.

I really like involving artists that don’t necessarily specialize in the medium, who can contribute to the piece in unexpected ways and teach me. I just love surprises. The actor who played Leila (Maria Marsli) was not an actor before we worked together, for example.

Segment from Sophie El Assaad’s video Leila, shown at the Centaur Theatre’s Wildside Festival in 2021 ( This process is made possible by the support from the Government of Québec and the City of Montréal as part of l’Entente sur le développement culturel de Montréal, and from the Canada Council for the Arts)

Sometimes in film, I think that theatricality is lost because you have the liberty to take many takes to get it exactly how you want and perfect it. Filming a mistake rather than having to start again could be a form of theatricality in video that I am interested in exploring. Those moments really drive me - those moments of live, unpredictable human behaviour, mistakes.

I really love paying attention to the little details that happen in the in between space — the micro moments before going into action. Observing that – it’s so beautiful when you can see it and take the time to watch the brain processing and how it translates through the body.

It’s been amazing to shift my process upside down and give more control to other artists involved in my process- it’s liberating and collaborative! It leaves a lot of room for surprise and the unpredictable.

The photo was taken by Sophie El Assaad of Chadia Kikondjo for the project Black Balloon: Portico Project. 2020

An important image for Black Balloon was the moon. There’s a theory that the moon was created by a collision that happened between the earth and another planet and all the debris that was created from the collision that was floating around the orbit of the earth came together through gravity to form the moon. So it was through destruction that this essential part of our world was created.

“I’ve always wanted to be the kind of person to memorize poetry and say it to someone in the right moment.”

On decolonizing work and family history:

I am trying to decolonize my work by doing a lot more research into my own culture and bringing that into the process. I’m Lebanese, and I grew up in Bahrain, but I find I am very Western in how I was brought up; my mum is British, and I went to Western schools. So everything I learned in terms of history and art is from a Western perspective. So I’m going through this process right now — it’s kind of like an identity crisis or rebirth — of rediscovering my father, his culture and baggage, through my art. In a way, it feels like the longer I am physically away from my Middle Eastern roots, the more I try to get closer to it through my work. There is an invisible thread tying me to the sea, the sounds of street cats and the call to prayers, the salt in the air, the sand and the rocky desert. It’s like a past life that I constantly mourn. Even though I love my current life and probably wouldn’t move back, there is a certain void.

Image of my paternal ancestors. My grandmother is the young girl between the man and woman.

My dad shows his love through cooking. Every Sunday, my dad cooks and my sister and I go and spend time with the family (as much as we can). He actively plans his weekend around what he is going to cook for us. It’s a great way to bring me back to my past living in Bahrain, or summers spent in Beirut with family, because he mostly cooks Lebanese food (even though my mum’s British palette doesn’t always leap for joy at it). He’s a very silent man and there's a lot about him that I find very mysterious. Sometimes it’s hard to connect. That’s kind of why I feel driven to researching and creating through my ancestral culture. It’s also a way for me to connect with and rediscover my dad.

Image of a broken mirror (photo by Sophie El Assaad)

Something that has been inspiring me lately are the traces of life that you can find in dead material. I am obsessed! An example would be a shattered mirror – it holds the traces of the action in its appearance. It has so much energy locked into its absolute stillness.

Flayed Man Holding a Dagger and His Skin, From Juan Valverde de Amusco, Anatomia del corpo humano, 1560

Some of my favourite ways of working costumes are when I can put a lot of energy or emotion into a fabric – new fabric (especially when it is machine made) is “dead”, but the more you manipulate it, the more it absorbs your energy and holds traces of that love or hate – like human skin. You can often tell the kind of life a person has had from their skin and it’s the same with material. If you give love to material, you can see it. And I try to put that into consideration as much as possible when I’m thinking of design and how I treat my materials. They’ll share their life story with anyone who’ll pay attention, using their own unique language.

I love the body. That’s why I love theatre, performance and dance. There is something I am really drawn to in certain art – it’s this primal connection that, as humans, we tend to neglect or actively conceal in our daily lives. I love to see the body do things that I don’t get to see in my daily life because it’s a part of my being that I don’t really get to explore. Witnessing our primal side, or the animal within us, is cathartic for me. There is a violence inside all of us that I think is dormant but easily awoken. We see it in times of war, or political hysteria.

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“There is a secret part of me that I would really love to have more opportunity to explore – my clown.”

When I say clown, I mean a weird creepy out of control thing. I have this clown that I only present to some people. I don’t know what their name is yet, but she’s a troll. She comes out sometimes when I am in a special mood.

Self-portrait of one of my inner trolls. 2022

When I get into my clown, it just happens naturally and not very often – it’s funny, talking about it makes it sound as though it’s a real thing that is developed, but I have only recently discovered her. She comes out when I say something mean or that I consider unreasonable (or when I get exaggeratedly emotional/passionate) – “ah there she is! The troll is out”. It’s my way of coping with my inner animal.

I don’t know if stories belong to anybody – it’s not necessarily about where a person is from or what they have personally experienced, but how a story is told. I definitely think that if someone wants to talk about an experience or an identity that isn’t theirs, they need to make sure they work with people who have that experience or identity, to make sure the story is developed in an informed way. It is important to have that authentic perspective.

I think artists need to be accountable for how they represent people, especially if those people are marginalised in society and already have that weight to carry. There is an ethical question to ask about whether you are profiting from a situation that misrepresents others. I think there is great responsibility that comes with the privilege of being an artist who is given a public platform.

Unfinished painting of a horse by Sophie El Assaad

Image from a workshop of a creation piece by Sophie El Assaad ,2022. Lighting designed by Zoe Roux and modeled by Nasim Lootij.

Image from Sophie El Assaad’s video Leila, shown at the Centaur Theatre’s Wildside Festival in 2021 (Chadia Kikondjo as Mother Moon; This process is made possible by the support from the Government of Québec and the City of Montréal as part of l’Entente sur le développement culturel de Montréal, and from the Canada Council for the Arts)

On process:

I saw a lot of my early work as internships – there wouldn’t be a lot of budget or pay, but what I did get was experience and a platform, so I saw those as my opportunities to go all out and take risks (I also chose projects that really inspired me, so it fueled me in other ways than just financial). For me, the extra time put into the work was worth it. I don’t know if it’s what I would recommend to others, but it’s what I did to get my career started.

Costumes designed by Sophie El Assaad for the show Jonathan Livingston: A Seagull Parable, (Surreal SoReal/ Geordie Theatre, photo by Marie Andrée Lemire)

“If I have an idea I think, ‘Can I do it? Maybe not, but why not try and see what happens?’”

Mask created by Sophie El Assaad for the band Fleece for album Stunning and Atrocious in 2021. Photograph by Cameron Mitchell, Styling by Kayleigh Choiniere, Clothes by Lucas Stowe and modeled by Owen.

“I would also love to make a play about pigeons. Write a play, or ask someone to write a play and just have giant pigeons having a conversation.”

My pigeon friends Pin Pin and Smithy (the ones that live on my building, that I feed) – they’ve started this repetitive occurrence. Every morning they have a choir session. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard pigeons but they gather so close to my windows and it’s a cacophony of chirps and bubbles. It is so beautiful.

I have a fascination with birds. I love seeing little sparrows in the winter when they’re in the bushes — because they look like leaves but then they move around — so it becomes a sort of like, magical and alive bush.

I think recording rehearsals can be useful in my future projects – seeing how accidents can become pieces in themselves. But I also see it as a way of approaching the process. For example, what would happen if you filmed something, like a small gesture, edited it on video to slow down or twitch it, then brought it back into rehearsal. Being influenced by the technology and what that offers and finding how it can bring meaning is something I want to experiment with. I think it could bring unexpected approaches to movement and performance. Video is like a second pair of eyes, noticing the little details you can’t capture during a rehearsal. 

“There is something about the early rehearsal process, the magic that comes during improv. Because it’s live and in the moment — it’s so raw and unrehearsed, completely reliant on intuition — it’s truly magic.”

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Sophie El Assaad

Holly Hilts is a core member of Also Cool. She is a maker of things: theatre sets, jewelry and websites, currently based in Montreal.

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Artist Spotlight: Henry Hu

whitesink by Henry Hu (inkjet print on cotton rag 24 x 16 cm) from passing parade, 2019 (10/10)

How do you decide to go from civil engineering to making a career for yourself as a visual artist? How do you know when it’s the right time to trust your intuition, and make that major life change that you need? For Henry Hu, these kinds of decisions have shaped his journey to becoming a full-time visual artist.

Exercising through various mediums, Henry Hu's (born 1995 Hong Kong) emerging practice commits to an infusion. An exchange. An immediacy. A link between the interior and the exterior — of a self, a being, an identity, a consciousness. 

Each individual series offers an overarching narrative, steps away from the present for a spell: tasked with casting new perspectives, fresh air to breathe, a spiritual relief. Often juxtaposing the past with the future, differing forms of surrealistic fantasies unfold across his works; along with a recurring structure, the heart of all series rests in harmony.

To be presented in dialogue with one another, all proposing works speak to the different natures of human existence, the quiet, the chaotic, those hushed periods, and at times the buzzing bangs.

Earlier this summer, we spoke to Henry about his work, travels, and how he decided to switch from civil engineering to visual art.

airydust by Henry Hu (inkjet print on cotton rag 24 x 16 cm) from passing parade, 2019 (4/10)

Malaika Astorga for Also Cool: Let's start at the beginning. Has your creative practice always been a part of your life? How has it changed over time?

Henry Hu: No, not at all -- growing up, on no occasion was I engaged in anything creative, I suppose I just didn't particularly care for it. Looking back, I was nonchalant. My younger self was rather indifferent; nothing at school piqued my interest, and I never really paid much attention or even had the ambition to achieve anything. Quite honestly, I was just sort of present, unoccupied, existing really, that's all. Not once did it cross my mind, the desire to devote myself. But I did enjoy movies; that was the one childhood obsession that persisted over the years. 

It wasn't until at university, shortly after I started a degree in civil engineering that it didn't seem worthwhile. Still, I didn't dare to picture a future in a creative line of work. Then, it all came about ... a realization. I acted on an impulse, and from there, my inclination to pursue arts and film quickly hardened into determination. 

I began doing small series of digital arts, both static and motion works. It made sense for me spatially, didn't cost a lot, only a computer was needed. Meanwhile, I buried myself in films, day in, day out, revisiting different eras of past cinema. Eventually, the works from directors like Antonioni, Éric Rohmer, Víctor Erice, Edward Yang, Kieślowski, Woody Allen stood out and entirely broadened, reshaped my perception of films. It was then when I started to write. Straightway I recognized the familiarity; it was comfortable. I was at ease and was confident that films would be my primary outlet. I also registered that it would be a long road ahead before I could actualize my screenplays. 

Anyhow, I kept on with the visual works, trying out various mediums. Graphics, art books, photographs, and a little later, mixed media initiated the urge to coexist physical and digital arts. Until then, I had been utilizing solely digital tools, so it was essentially the desire to do something concrete, dynamic, and perhaps on a larger scale. With that in mind, I made new sets of digital artworks, specifically for print, onto numerous fabrics, surfaces -- eager to see how they would interact with raw materials: acrylics, spray paints, threads, modelling doughs. Trials and errors charted the progress, noting the little details. The end result was a plunge into maximalism, a playful flux of colour. But still, traces of everything pre-existed. 

It is merely fortuitous that this new direction, quite the polar opposite, from the films I have envisioned, which are all very hushed and quiet, muted tones. Nonetheless, it is a nice balance, separating the two mediums.

Selected work from night dot surrender by Henry Hu (2020)

Also Cool: You've lived in so many incredible cultural hubs. Can you tell us a bit about each one and what your experience was like there?

Henry: I was raised in Hong Kong, up north. I had a pleasant childhood and had many uneventful years of growth. I wouldn't have appreciated it then, but it is a time now I feel very fond of. My parents took us hiking quite often, surprisingly. For such a small city, Hong Kong has a wide-ranging of walking trails and mountains. Nature, I think, the fields, the woods, spring, winter, the clouds overhead, the streams beneath, they are gifts for a child. 

At fourteen, I started attending a boarding school in Queensland, Australia. There was a drastic shift in environment, to say the least, but frankly, there wasn't much to take away; they were good years. And the changes were all surface level, however significant they might seem first. 

Following high school, I moved to Sydney for university, and, well, that's that. To be fair, I never did feel deeply rooted in any particular place, culture -- but I am awfully glad for the experiences. It is what it is.

Selected work from night dot surrender by Henry Hu (2020)

AC: You switched out of a degree in civil engineering and instead developed your passion for art and film. What was that process like? How did you learn to trust your intuition in that way?

H: It was months of dissonance and dread. A turbulent time for me, so to speak. The loss of a dear friend. Riddled with unrest, unsettled. I turned inward. It wasn't very dramatic, and it didn't happen overnight. But once I went forward with the visual works and writings, I realized that I belonged. That was it. 

Strangely enough, it was then that I saw myself coming into being for the first time. I suppose you have to narrow yourself to a point, for better or worse. Staying truthful, being mindful, what to do, what not to do, within reason. The ring of authenticity. It is difficult to hold the line, and it is difficult to stay true, but it is very fulfilling to the spirit. Having reached an understanding, of sorts, to yourself. 

Now I tend to believe there wasn't actually any underlying cause -- obviously, the events that occurred factored in. Everything factored in. And yet, sometimes, it's just meant to be. When I discontinued the degree, it was liberating. I never gave it a thought other than to be sort of pleased. I wasn't at all seeking validation; I just got on with it. So it was, more or less, the willingness to accept, to really heed your own thoughts and feelings. They can be very telling. All things considered, I am grateful, at that very moment, the external circumstances allowed me to proceed, to an extent. I was granted the privilege to move forward, so it was fortunate for me, I guess. 

In the end, it also just boils down, instead of letting the decisions be governed by fear -- simply, a leap of faith. Not necessarily any grand expectations. More so, a belief, the self-assurance that it was the right path -- I, myself, made the conscious decision to commit, with that, whatever happens, happens … and, that's okay.

motor by Henry Hu (inkjet print on cotton rag 24 x 16 cm) from passing parade, 2019 (5/10)

AC: What's the creative scene like where you are right now? What do you like about it, and what do you wish there was more of?

H: Earlier in the year, I had the opportunity to assist with indie films around Sydney. It was educative to spend time on set, to be observant. All around, it was delightful. As far as visual arts, well, in truth, I don't really know … Everybody does it differently. There are no rules. I had always intended to make some things on my own before branching out, connecting, and sharing. And so I did; I stayed underground, gave myself the time and space to work. But I am sure it's a very interesting scene out there, and now I look forward to getting more involved.

it hangs by Henry Hu (inkjet print on cotton rag 24 x 16 cm) from passing parade, 2019 (8/10)

AC: I'm interested in how you incorporate sequencing into your work. Can you expand on this?

H: From the beginning, my approach was to develop full bodies of work, no matter the medium. For the most part, especially with the photographs and digital stuff, once I feel I have enough materials. I take a few days, occasionally a few weeks off, a clearing. Afterwards, I come back, work on the sequencing, and finish off. This was a process that emerged incidentally. Now I do it on purpose. 

With the mixed media works, it was somewhat different. I had all the pieces visualized, sketched out before getting hands-on with the paints. I was attentive, more meticulous, and deliberate with the materials and structures -- how this particular piece should close out the series or how this colour won't work unless applied to that specific texture. I did put in extra precision and clarity -- constructing, rearranging, bits here, pieces there. It was a new thing for me; I had no prior knowledge of paints. I thought if I were to do this, I might as well do it the way that felt most organic. I listen to music when I work. My mind would have been filled with second-hand rhythms and tempos, ingrained with a given flow, pacing of things. After all, it is instinctive. Now and then, things naturally align. They seem genuine and sincere. I will just leave it at that. It would be very unwise to fight against it.

let in by Henry Hu (inkjet print on cotton rag 24 x 16 cm) from passing parade, 2019 (6/10)

AC: Who are some artists/creatives that are really inspiring you right now? (feel free to shout out friends)

H: I have been reading, re-reading a bunch lately. Sylvia Plath, her journals are something I return to regularly. Anne Truitt, who was known for her sculptures, but her writings are very stimulating to me. They are well worth the read. 

With films, this young Chinese writer-director Bi Gan, his works are precious, I highly await whatever he does next. 

Current music excites me a great deal. Mount Eerie, Julia Holter, Beach House, Weyes Blood, Florist, Perfume Genius, Car Seat Headrest, Let's Eat Grandma, James Blake, Tomberlin, Jockstrap, Laura Marling, Snail Mail. This year only, new records from Dry Cleaning, Vince Staples, Wolf Alice, Black Country New Road, Julien Baker. It's just joyful to have so much I could anticipate all the time. It's a good feeling. And also, Helena Deland, I came across her debut last year, been playing it ever since. (A nice surprise to see there's an interview piece with her on Also Cool!)

AC: What are you hoping to do more of in 2021, both creatively and career-wise?

H: Sydney is in lockdown at the moment. A chance to entertain new ideas. It's been productive. Did some digital art stuff. Continuing with the screenplays, visual references and research, all that. Just getting on, really -- I don't know how it's all going to pan out, but I am satisfied, the journey so far, I guess we will see.

Henry Hu

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Malaika Astorga is the co-founder of Also Cool. She is a Mexican-Canadian visual artist, writer, and social media strategist currently based in Montreal.

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Artist Spotlight: Gabriella Scali

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Sorry Girls by Gabriella Scali

Get to know Montreal-based photographer Gabriella Scali, whose photos initially caught our eye with with their attention to texture and muted colour schemes. Read and experience Scali’s reflections on following the band Sorry Girls on their past North American tour in her photo essay below. Within, Scali shares the charming, intimate moments of touring with a band through a gentle lens, and discusses how her relationship with her work transformed through reminiscing these nostalgic moments a year later.

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One year ago, I left Montreal to follow Sorry Girls on their tour across North America. My boyfriend is one of the musicians in the group, and as a photographer sensing a great opportunity, I immediately bugged him to have me tag along. I knew I had to document the band and their adventures on the road, in motel rooms and behind stage curtains. 

Only packing a handful of film stock with me, I had to be very meticulous about what I wanted to capture. This is one of the reasons I always prepare my ideas in advance by sketching scenes and images: It calms my anxiety before the actual shoots. But on tour, it was creatively difficult. I couldn’t easily have control over the scenes and create images following my drafted ideas like I usually do. Being shy to approach the subjects fully and the quick pace of the tour schedule made it difficult for me to take pictures I enjoyed. 

At this point in time, I wasn't very well acquainted with the other musicians in the band, and the process of following and documenting people that I barely knew was unsettling. I feared that the results might be overly-reserved and inauthentic. When my photos came out of the lab, a sinking feeling of disappointment came over me. I realized I had kept a deliberate safe distance from the subjects, in order to disturb their experience as little as possible. I tossed my photos aside. It wasn't until later that I was able to find beauty in my polite, introverted approach. The artists’ faces were often obscured by flares and reflections, creating an effect as if they are in a different realm, like light peeking through a translucent curtain. I noticed, however, that in time this shy obfuscation, approached with a cautious veil towards the beginning of the journey, began to lift. The warmth of the California sunshine began to seep in, illuminating the subjects' faces and the shadows between us.

Now one year later, when I look at my photographs I am faced with nostalgia and a bittersweet sensation. I feel the desert wind on my legs, the yellow sun warming my arms, and I smell the sweet scent of gasoline as I picture the mountains swiftly passing by. I also recall the cramped 15 hour drives, the unhealthy road-meals and the poor sleeping habits. I see my personal transformation in these photos. I see the time it took me to reach my comfort level, and how I was eventually able to let go of my expectations and preconceived results and to instead embrace the music scene’s vibrant and spontaneous energy. Spirited, suddenly full of power and brightness. This trip was like a flare you had to quickly grasp, otherwise it is lost. I wonder if I will ever experience this feeling again.

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Gabriella Scali is a Montreal-based photographer who started taking pictures as a young teenager, always dreaming of travelling to quiet places and capturing people by creating mood and settings around them. In 2016, she received her BFA in Photography at Concordia University. She also found inspiration in new surroundings, studying design at Bauhaus University in Germany, where she travelled across Europe and displayed her work in exhibitions. She now works as a graphic designer for a non-profit organization and works on her photography projects on the weekend.

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Gabriella Scali, photo courtesy of the artist

Gabriella Scali

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Sorry Girls

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