Book Review Roundup: July 2022

 

Artwork by Malaika Astorga

Book Review Roundup is a seasonal column where writer Alanna Why shares the best books she’s read in the past few months, with an emphasis on highlighting recent works, small press releases and Canadian writers. 

Trigger Warning: The following reviews discuss topics that readers may find distressing, including racism, sexual violence and gender-based violence.

Monarch by Candice Wuehle (Soft Skull, 2022)

This debut novel from American poet Candice Wuehle is bold, strange and unlike anything I’ve ever read before. Set in the ‘90s, the novel centres on Jessica, a teenage beauty queen who realizes she’s been programmed as a sleeper agent by a secret government program called MONARCH. 

The first half is an experiment in language and style, with Jessica pondering the fragmented nature of her identity and reality through the lens of philosophy and religion. The second half is more plot-oriented, finding Jessica seeking revenge on those who programmed her. With ‘90s references galore, it’s perfect for culture fans, as well as readers who crave existential and experimental novels in the style of Thomas Pynchon or Don DeLillo.

Disorientation by Elaine Hsieh Chou (Penguin Press, 2022) 

Another novel about a young woman waking up to the realities of the world around her is Elaine Hsieh Chou’s Disorientation. Narrated from the perspective of Ingrid Yang, a 29-year-old Ph.D. student, the book explores her awakening to the nuances of internalized racism and microaggressions that have followed her entire life.

The campus satire also takes on cultural appropriation, even featuring a professor who seems to be based on Jordan Peterson. Although the breadth of subjects explored are serious, Hsieh Chou approaches them with humour and Ingrid’s deadpan narration is often laugh-out-loud funny. Disorientation is filled with plot twists and turns, with an ending that few could predict.

Despite the serious subject matter, the memoir is extremely difficult to put down, with the flow of Healey’s prose sweeping the reader in immediately. It’s very rare to see a writer discuss the financial details of their career with such honesty, making Best Young Woman Job Book a welcome example in the genre of literary memoir.

Best Young Woman Job Book by Emma Healey (Random House Canada, 2022) 

Best Young Woman Job Book is the first long work of nonfiction from Toronto-based poet and writer Emma Healey. Written like an extended prose poem, in the memoir Healey explores her journey of becoming a working writer under late-stage capitalism, as well as her experience with sexual assault faced at the hands of a creative writing professor.

Despite the serious subject matter, the memoir is extremely difficult to put down, with the flow of Healey’s prose sweeping the reader in immediately. It’s very rare to see a writer discuss the financial details fo their career with such honesty, making Best Young Woman Job Book a welcome example in the genre of literary memoir.

Son of Elsewhere: A Memoir in Pieces by Elamin Abdelmahmoud (Ballantine Books, 2022)

Another “just-one-more-page” memoir is Son of Elsewhere by Buzzfeed writer Elamin Abdelmahmoud. Drawing on his experience of immigrating to Kingston, Ontario from Khartoum, Sudan at age 12, this essay collection explores family, culture, language and identity. 

Abdelmahmoud’s writing is sincere and often bittersweet, a prose style that’s tempered with a healthy dose of pop culture obsession. The essays that spoke to the latter element were standouts: I particularly enjoyed his writing about Linkin Park, wrestling and The O.C. Still, it’s the fragmented essay “Roads,” a breathtakingly beautiful ode to the 401, that shined the brightest out of the entire collection.

Manhunt by Gretchen Felker-Martin (Nightfire, 2022) 

From horror writer Gretchen Felker-Martin, Manhunt is a trans take on the gender-apocalypse story. The novel is set in the near future in a dystopia where most men have transformed into feral, violent monsters due to a virus. It’s told from the perspective of two trans women, Beth and Fran, as they try to avoid an army of TERFs who’ve gained political control and kill anyone who isn’t a “real” woman.

If that sounds brutal, it is! Manhunt is one of the most terrifying books I’ve read in a while. Still, it’s written in such a scene-focused and cinematic way that it feels like you’re watching a dystopian horror action movie instead of reading a book. It’s a compelling and original story, although it’s definitely a LOT to stomach at times, so it’s certainly not for the faint of heart.

Acts of Service by Lillian Fishman (Hogarth Press, 2022) 

Acts of Service is the debut novel from young queer writer Lillian Fishman. Bringing to mind the style and themes of Sally Rooney, this novel is told from the point-of-view of Eve, a 28-year-old New Yorker who becomes entangled in a sexual relationship with another couple, Olivia and Nathan, over the course of a year.

While the set up is interesting and the sex scenes are definitely alluring, Acts of Service’s most unique quality is the way it deconstructs power dynamics, patriarchy and bisexuality. It’s a philosophical read, with the narrator’s thoughts about what she’s involved in working out on the page in what feels like real time. Although it might strike some readers as too subtle or introspective, fans of contemporary literary fiction will certainly find it fascinating.


Alanna Why is a culture and fiction writer living in Montreal. To read more of her book reviews, subscribe to her newsletter Why’s World and follow her on Instagram.


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The Kaleidoscopically Queer Universe of Cara Connors

 

Cara Connors at Dynasty Typewriter. Photo courtesy of Andrew Max Levy

Cara Connors is here, they’re queer, and they’re occasionally feral.

What began with an extracurricular shot-in-the-dark at The Second City Toronto has since taken Connors on the ride of their life. The Chicago-born, LA-based comedian has made a name for themself with their charmingly-neurotic stylings, hitting their stride in the fringes between absurdism and sincerity. Their arsenal of talent continues to rise through the ranks, captivating the likes of Just For Laughs, OUTtv, and E! Network.

Most recently, they’ve been on the road sharing Straight for Pay, a solo show that wields Connors’ comedic strengths to explore the nuances of identity and self-acceptance. Between personal anecdotes of divorce, evolution and introspection, Connors fuses eccentric physicality and an earnest heart to keep audiences on their toes. Their recent stop at Diving Bell Social Club was a grand success, featuring the talents of queer Montreal comedian Inés Anaya. But fear not if you missed your chance — Connors’ summer of shenanigans is only just beginning.

Cara Connors at Dynasty Typewriter. Photo courtesy of Andrew Max Levy

Rebecca L. Judd for Also Cool Mag: Your style pulls from a prolific catalogue of comedic influences, ranging from the incomparable Maria Bamford to the rowdiness of your Irish Catholic family. What are the core tenets of your comedy, and how have those evolved? 

Cara Connors: Oh wow, there are so many places. Being able to make people laugh has always been both a survival mechanism and my general disposition since as long as I can remember (shout out to my favourite trauma response - fawning!) It's also always been the easiest and most satisfying way for me to connect with all kinds of people. 

Early on, I was definitely most enamoured by classic sketch-style shows like SNL and MADtv—cliche for a reason!—and also, perhaps most influentially, mimicking and parodying all the freaky real-life characters I was surrounded by. Teachers, camp counsellors, and parents of my friends with weird vocal cadences all endlessly fascinated me. I've always been a bit of a daydreamer, head-lost-in-the-clouds kinda gal; I can distinctly remember not paying attention in class, being called out, and then apologizing in the teacher's voice to the resounding laughter of my 7-year-old classmates. So much power, and so little respect for my American elementary school curriculum (ok, she's a trailblazer!). Not the most original of premises, but you gotta sometimes give the people what they want. In this case, it was poor impulse control and a knack for impersonations. 

As I grew up and got into comedy, my tastes have also thankfully somewhat evolved, and I now look to comedians like Maria Bamford, Rory Scovel, and Margaret Cho for inspiration and leaning into unapologetic strangeness and vulnerability. I love watching people who push the art form forward and who are not afraid to be their freaky little selves — people like Julio Torres, Bowen Yang and Natalie Palamides. Ziwe is so fun to watch and endlessly brilliant and flawless. The list could go on forever. 

 

Also Cool: You got your start in Toronto, taking comedy classes at The Second City while still married and in grad school. Tell me more about finding your footing and making the creative jump – when did it click that this was your path? 

Connors: Okay, first of all – trigger warning about mentioning my #straightmarriage! That was a very dark but formative season of my life. I first took the class at The Second City Toronto in an attempt to escape the mind-numbing boredom and academic despair I was wallowing in after a long first year of graduate school. I decided to take it because, growing up in Chicago, Second City was always such an institution and a favourite place for me to take in shows like the little comedy nerd I have always been. I wanted to do something nice for myself! When I realized there was a Canadian outpost in Toronto, I figured I'd give it a shot. 

I was hooked instantly. Stand-up is funny, because the first few years are often just a series of terrible open mics in the bleakest settings as you work out what the hell it is you're trying to say. And yet, the people who really, really love it will look around and still be like "This is fabulous! That drunk guy just threw a stool at the stage, and no one is listening to a thing I am saying, AND I really suck at this—and will for about the next four years—and… baby… I can't get enough!" 

It still took me a long time to make the connection that comedy was what I was meant to do, but I do clearly remember riding the streetcar home after about two weeks of classes and having a distinct lightning bolt moment thinking "This is what I want to do with my life!". Right on the carpeted seats of the TTC. So romantic!

AC: One of my favourite projects of yours is the 90 Day Fiancé series. Your range is incredible, and the impressions are ridiculously accurate! I'd love to hear more about the makings of this series, and how the show resonated with your comedic stylings.

CC: Thank you for saying this! I love 90 Day Fiancé in such a strong, guttural way that I am actually not sure WTF my problem is! I started watching the series a few years ago as a part of my general reality TV slate, but took a deep-dive when the pandemic hit because it was one of the few things bringing me joy and offering the exact kind of escapism that I needed. I was holed up in the mountains with a woman I had just met (she has a type!) and started bingeing all the seasons and spin-offs, and realized I couldn't keep my obsession to myself much longer. 

The casting department on that show is *chef’s kiss*, and each season just goes more and more off-the-rails. It also has such a diverse array of white people from all over the world behaving heinously, and I just couldn't help but poke a little fun. The series brought in a weird contingent of people consuming my comedy, because that fan base is basically an empire of cable-loving moms, so I still get occasional comments on my page from people insisting I post less gay thirst traps and more 90 Day vids. It's like, “...babe, I make these vids for ME first and foremost, and I am a person and not a dancing monkey, so don't tell me what to do! Or at least buy me a drink first!”

 

AC: Straight for Pay is a unique show, blending the intimacy of your queer evolution with visceral expression and utter foolishness! Has that willingness to share your story ever challenged you? How has this project in particular further molded your queer identity? 

CC: This hour is definitely the most vulnerable comedy I have made thus far. Delving into my personal life in an authentic way—not just mining it for more surface-level jokes—has been really meaningful, but it has also stirred up a lot for me internally. It's challenging, to be honest, talking about what has been such a strange and (at times) difficult journey. but it has felt really powerful to be able to share it and have so many people relate to it in different ways. If I am not pushing myself to be more open and more real and find a way to make it as funny and sincere as possible, then what is the point? I am an earnest bitch, and I felt so alone for so many years as I sorted through (and continue to sort through) my sexual and gender identity. During that time, I clung to the work of so many other brave artists that it feels special to now be in a place where I can begin to pay that forward. My queer identity continues to be molded by the larger, collective queer identity of the amazing people I continue to meet and am lucky enough to surround myself with, and I am just getting started!

AC: In selecting stops for this tour, you've said it was important to you to choose cities with identifiably queer arts scenes. Tell us more about your relationship with Montreal – what is your perception of the city, and what are your most memorable MTL experiences?

CC: Montreal is hands-down one of my favourite cities in the entire world.  I have been hooked ever since I first moved to Canada, and would make any excuse to come down for a weekend of eating, drinking and general queer debauchery. I love the food! I love how everyone minds their own business and is down to earth! I love how hot and low-key queer everyone is! And I love Bota Bota! (Not sponsored, but I'm all ears!) 

My first girlfriend was also from Montreal, and so the city will also always be inextricably tied to romance, queer angst and weird memories of me overhearing mundane phone conversations she would have in French where I would always find myself kinda turned on. That's how I feel about Montreal all the time. Just sort of hot and bothered all the time.  

I associate the city with fun and laid-back people who like to laugh and enjoy and let the bullshit go. It's such an artistic, creative enclave that doesn't always get the attention it deserves, but everyone I meet in Montreal is working on some exceptionally specific and beautiful pursuit and, okay, I have a crush on you all! What's the big deal?

My show at Diving Bell Social Club was one of the absolute highlights of my tour, and Montreal in general is one of my favourite places to perform. I felt so immediately embraced by the crowd, and will be back as soon as I can.

AC: Thank you for your time, Cara! Looking ahead to the rest of the year, what can our fellow neurotic queers expect from you next?

CC: OMG, hi fellow neurotic queers! I love you precious baby angels so much, and I am so glad you're here.

This summer, I'll be taking my hour down South for Pride month to spread my good gay gospel (and give all these dystopic, heartless, homophobic caricatures of politicians down there something to get angry about… besides creepily trying to control the bodies and words of children. Cue: Mariah Carey's “Obsessed”.)  I will then be heading overseas for the first time for a string of dates in the UK and Europe, and releasing my hour as an album in early July. I have not shared this with anyone yet, but gays love gossip, so it's only fair to break the news here.


Cara Connors

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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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FIFEQ Montreal Presents 18th Edition of Canada's First Ethnographic Film Festival

 

After two years of restrictions to cultural programming, the International Ethnographic Film Festival of Quebec (FIFEQ)-MTL, Canada’s first ethnographic film festival and number-1 platform for ethnographic cinema is proudly back for its 18th edition!

FIFEQ-MTL will begin next week, showing from May 11th to May 15th exclusively in person. This year’s carefully-curated selection was selected by the FIFEQ team from nearly 200 submitted works by filmmakers and anthropologists from around the world. Says programming coordinator Danielle Kouhio Depri of this year’s festival:

“FIFEQ, the first and only film festival in Quebec and Canada entirely dedicated to ethnographic cinema, has always been driven by one mission: promoting and democratizing ethnographic film and visual anthropology. For its 18th edition in Montreal, we are especially proud to offer free screenings to not only cinephiles but anyone intrigued by social and human sciences. Through this year’s selection, the programming team wishes to showcase various cinematic narratives of the real, [and] this diversity is further reflected in the genres of the films we’ve selected: everything from sensory, experimental, art-house, essay film, ethnofiction to the more traditional observational documentary genre, or even the collaborative political genre. A collection of authentic and unique films that will certainly invite discourse on certain representations, and encourage audiences to question even their own versions of reality. In 2022, we want to continue to move beyond public perceptions of and assumptions about how ethnographic film has to be voyeuristic and/or about some exotic other, and instead highlight the cinematic and humanistic nature of visual anthropology.”

Still from The Fantastic (2019) by Maija Blåfield

In addition to the screenings, the public will be able to participate in conversations, panels, and parafilmic workshops aimed at deconstructing the way we look at reality and the human experience. This new edition will offer you the opportunity to apprehend the world in which we live differently, through the lenses of the diverse subjectivities put forth by protagonists of varied identities and film directors who are passionate about the real. Audiences will be able to discover, among other things, frank and poetic views on the solitary experiences of illegal migration, the relationship between women and their body and sexuality following childbirth, the administrative issues related to autochthony in India, Mongolian shamanism as well as the imaginations maintained by North Koreans through their viewing of foreign films.

This year, FIFEQ-MTL continues its commitment to accessibility and its mission of democratizing ethnographic cinema by making most of its programming available to audiences for free. This presents a golden opportunity to meet and connect around cinema and visual anthropology in a warm and intimate setting.

This year’s edition of FIFEQ-MTL will kick off with an opening night on May 11th at Ausgang Plaza at 7 PM, complete with film screenings and live music. The major themes, dates and locations of the festival then include:

  • OUTLOOKS ON RITUALITY – presented Thursday, May 12th at Cinéma Public

  • AT THE EDGES OF REALITY – presented Thursday, May 12th at Cinéma Public

  • WOMEN’S CINEMA – presented Friday, May 13th at Cinéma Moderne

  • NARRATING THE INTIMATE – presented Friday, May 13th at Cinéma Moderne

  • POETRIES OF REALITY – presented Saturday, May 14th at McCord Museum

  • ON THE IMPOSSIBILITY OF FILMING MIGRATION – presented Saturday, May 14th at McCord Museum

  • DAY OF INDIGENOUS FILMS / CLOSING DAY – presented Sunday, May 15th at McCord Museum

Still from Brave (2021) by Wilmarc Val

Still from Inniun ueshkat mak anutshish (2020) by Marie Menie Mark

Still from Talamanca (2020) by David Marino

Founded in 2003 by a group of students and professors in anthropology, the International Festival of Ethnographic Film is the first and exclusive of its kind in Canada. Ethnographic cinema is a well-known discipline within academia, especially among anthropologists. But it is often regarded by outsiders as an obscure, unapproachable, and elitist art. For 19 years, FIFEQ has been driven by one mission: democratizing visual anthropology and documentary film through an eclectic, yet accessible selection of films.

Part of the festival’s mission is also to make most of the screenings entirely free of charge. FIFEQ encourages bold and unique works, with an emphasis on reflexive approaches. Providing a platform for indigenous stories and productions, in Canada and abroad, we focus on films that go beyond the limits of colonialist and essentialist anthropology. At FIFEQ, we love films that observe proximate realities, sometimes even mundane ones, allowing us to observe and question our own environment.

For more information on FIFEQ, tickets and a full list of programming, please visit the FIFEQ-MTL page or visit them on Instagram and Facebook.


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Book Review Roundup: April 2022

 

Illustration by Malaika Astorga

Welcome to our latest column, Book Review Roundup. Every season, writer Alanna Why will share the best books she’s read in the past few months, with an emphasis on highlighting recent works, small press releases and Canadian writers. 

Personal Attention Roleplay by Helen Chau Bradley (Metonymy Press, 2021) 

Published last fall, Personal Attention Roleplay is the debut short story collection from Montreal-based writer Helen Chau Bradley. The stories are narrated almost exclusively by LGBTQ+, mixed-race protagonists, who contemplate unreciprocated crushes, political solidarity and existential dread. Set predominantly in Toronto and Montreal, readers can easily recognize the streets, buses and bike routes as they take in Chau Bradley’s urban malaise. 

While all the stories feel fresh, I was especially struck by those that played with a surreal element. The title story —featuring a narrator becoming obsessed with AMSR videos on YouTube after a falling out with their roommate— is a collection standout. Likewise, the last piece “Soft Shoulder,” about a band touring on the road who finds out unexpected information about their manager, features a plot-twist ending that made me gasp out loud. Overall, the collection is yet another strong work from Montreal-based small publisher Metonymy Press.

Made-Up: A True Story of Beauty Culture Under Late Capitalism by Daphné B., translated by Alex Manley (Coach House Books, 2021)

Originally published in 2020 as Maquillée by francophone publisher Marchand des feuilles, this slim non-fiction work was recently translated into English. Made-Up takes on the beauty industry, feminist ethics and late capitalism in a style that combines non-fiction facts with a poetic prose style similar to books by American writers Maggie Nelson and Anne Boyer. Both B. and Manley are poets, making the translation beautiful to read.

I really enjoyed the particular emphasis on B.’s analysis of YouTube beauty influencers like Jeffree Star, Shane Dawson, Tati Westbrook and Jaclyn Hill. I haven’t seen a lot of critical writing about these beauty gurus, so it was refreshing to read a young perspective that truly understands their cultural importance to an entire generation of people who grew up on the Internet. Throughout the whole book, B. grapples with what it means to desire beauty and ethics at the same time. Even though it’s a short, quick read, there’s a lot to chew on, long after you’ve finished reading.

Margaret and the Mystery of the Missing Body by Megan Milks (Feminist Press, 2021)

New York City writer Megan Milks published four (!) books last year, including Margaret and the Mystery of the Missing Body, their debut novel. The novel is set in South Chesterfield, Virginia in 1998 and narrated by Margaret, a teenager in treatment for an eating disorder. 

This hybrid work mixes and matches genre styles to experimental delight, incorporating everything from YA fiction to crime to video games into a work of literary fiction. As one can expect from that description, it’s definitely a wild ride! But the undercurrent of the importance of friendship and navigating queerness as a young person made all the genre shifts come together for what is ultimately a moving and true-to-life ending. 

Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel (Knopf, 2014)

Although this fourth novel by Canadian writer Emily St. John Mandel was released in 2014, it’s recently gained a wider audience due to its 2021 adaptation into a miniseries for HBO. This sci-fi novel follows a group of characters in Toronto as they survive the Georgia Flu, a viral disease that kills 99% of the world’s population in a matter of days. 

Much of the book takes on the Travelling Symphony, a group of actors and musicians who tour around the GTA twenty years after the flu’s outbreak. While I can understand that many people don’t want to read about a pandemic while we’re currently still in one, I found Station Eleven to be oddly comforting, reminding me of the strength of human resilience and the power of art in difficult times. I especially love the interconnectedness of the characters, which reminded me a lot of Lost.

The Death of Vivek Oji by Akwaeke Emezi (Riverhead Books, 2020) 

Released two years ago, The Death of Vivek Oji is the third novel from Nigerian writer Akwaeke Emezi. The novel blends the genre conventions of murder mystery with the stunning prose of literary fiction to showcase a queer story filled with equal parts tragedy and beauty. The Death of Vivek Oji begins with just that: the death of Vivek, who’s body is placed on the doorsteps of their parents. 

The novel switches between perspectives of Vivek, their childhood friend and cousin Osita and various family members to explore the grief of the loss and its effect on the whole community. But greater than that is the story of LGBTQ+ desire, community and chosen family. It reminded me strongly of Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin, which is also a tragedy. It’s heartbreaking, but overall an incredible read with the final twenty pages making the entire novel soar (and sending any reader into major tears).

Alanna Why is a culture and fiction writer living in Montreal. To read more of her book reviews, subscribe to her newsletter Why’s World and follow her on Instagram.


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Also Cool Announces Season Two of Podcast "Also Cool Sounds Like"

 

Also Cool Sounds Like artwork by Kristina Rivera

We’re thrilled to announce that our in-house podcast project is entering its second season! Premiering this Sunday, March 13th, on N10.as at 5PM EST, Also Cool Sounds Like returns; this time profiling Montreal musicians. 

Produced, edited and hosted by friends, collaborators and storytellers Aviva Lessard and Gwen Roley, the second season of Also Cool Sounds Like follows the creative journeys of different Montreal musicians from a variety of genres and scenes. With each episode, our hosts dive into their guests’ individual songwriting process, their story of finding belonging in our local music community and their creative inspirations. Some profiled creators include rising stars from the Hot Tramp roster, Maryze, Janette King and Alicia Clara, as well as multifaceted indie acts Love Language, Alpen Glow and more!  

Launching bi-weekly on Mondays, the series explores artistic upbringings, while celebrating the community support networks unique to Montreal’s creative circles. Episodes will be available for listening on all major streaming platforms, including Spotify, Apple Podcasts and Buzzsprout. 

In anticipation of season two’s first episode airing this weekend, we’re sharing the trailer for Also Cool Sounds Like below!

Keep up with our podcast on all major streaming platforms!

Spotify | Apple Podcasts | Buzzsprout


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The Significance of a Balaclava

 

Artwork by the author, Alison Margaret B. Moule

A meme that has been circulating recently illustrates a person lying on the ground, presumably unconscious, and a distressed-looking crouched figure crying out “HELP!!! Is any one of you a doctor?” One in a crowd of unalarmed onlookers replies “I can crochet a balaclava.” This occurs under the title, “Year 2030.” Many of us who have been confined to our homes throughout this 2 year-long (and still ongoing) pandemic have taken up hobbies like knitting and crochet, and this meme pokes fun at the growing winter trend of hand-made balaclavas. No, we are not doctors. We wake up feeling perilously stuck in the cycle of lockdown and gradual-reopening, unprecedented and uncharacteristic weather, minimum-wage jobs and the knowledge that even if we were doctors, we could never afford a house in this economy. So what’s the point? We are shifting away from careers that make money and towards creativity.

In pursuit of coziness

 I made my first balaclava in early January of 2021, after seeing one posted on Instagram by knitwear designer and photographer, Harry Were, for sale for over $200. Unable to afford the beautiful and aptly priced hand-knit head-warmer, I set my mind to knitting my own. Although I do not know how to follow patterns, I am proficient in the binary code of knitting and purling. By trial and error, I cast on a blue merino-wool balaclava, making up the pattern as I went along.

Since that first bala (as I affectionately call them), I have knit and sold enough to cover about three months of rent. Not wanting to charge a price that I myself could not afford, while still trying to value my time that goes into hand-knitting, I sell by sliding-scale. Most people who buy my balaclavas are also students or work low-paying jobs, but are graciously willing to give up $90-130 to get their heads in a soft, hand-knit wool bala. I am curious about the popularity of balaclavas that has allowed me to make a small income by doing something that I love.

Some attribute the trend to the pandemic, as masking has been mandatory for nearly two years, and balaclavas seem to mimic the effect of a semi-obscured face. However, balaclavas were first reappearing in fashion in the pre-pandemic winter of 2018-2019. Still, I imagine there is some connection between masking to prevent the spread of COVID-19 and everyone wearing a balaclava this winter. Perhaps we appreciate the warmth that masks provide to the lower half of our faces in sub-zero temperatures, but require a more fashionable, comfortable, outdoor version of this warmth we are now accustomed to. I surmise that the trend has to do, most of all, with coziness. Winter fashion has not always been as practical. In most recent winters, we have seen more emphasis on keeping warm, with puffer jackets and wide-leg pants (with lots of room for long johns underneath). Balaclavas reject the cold ears of excessively rolled-up beanies. 


Balaclavas in and against power 

Balaclavas first appeared under this name in the 1880s. During the 1854 Crimean War battle —dubbed the Battle of Balaclava, after the nearby town of Balaclava, Crimea— British soldiers were sent hand-knit head and face coverings, then called Uhlan caps, to keep warm in the frigid Russian October (Richard Rutt, A History of Hand Knitting, 1987, pg. 135-138). These were no doubt knitted by women and girls, who often aided in war efforts by providing hand-knits to soldiers. 

Balaclavas have this military history, and are still very much associated with violence. When I mention to a person of an older generation that I knit balaclavas, the common response is “You mean like bank robbers?” Balaclavas are commonly worn to conceal the identity of individuals committing crimes, including police and military forces. Of course, there is a difference between military-style black balaclavas, that conceal everything but the wearer’s eyes, and brightly coloured, hand-knit wool balas that encircle the wearer’s face in a way that reminds me of a well-swaddled baby. That said, it is hard to separate the garment from connotations of violence. I post selfies in my knitted balaclavas on social media with the hashtag #balaclava, and I receive messages like “Hey beautiful,” from military-fetishizing men in tight, black balaclavas. I block them with a feeling of uneasiness about my most beloved winter accessory.

Balaclavas show up also in contexts of political resistance. Balaclavas were worn by Indigenous activists in Chiapas, Mexico, during the Zapatista uprising, beginning in 1994. Face masks are not just a way for the Zapatistas to conceal their identities from an oppressive government: a Zapatista balaclava is a symbol of non-hierarchical collectivity, and a statement about the invisibility of Indigenous peoples in a colonial empire.

Band and performance art group, Pussy Riot, put a spin on the balaclava's Russian roots. Wearing bright-coloured, ski-mask style balaclavas, they retain anonymity while making a strong visual statement, in their fight for feminism and LGBTQIA+ rights in Russia and worldwide.

In Wes Anderson’s Fantastic Mr. Fox (2009), the animals wear balaclavas they call “bandit hats” when confronting antagonistic farmers who are destroying their homes. The animated comedy tells a story about land rights and habitat conservation, while using balaclavas as a symbol of resistance. 

Who can cover their heads and get away with it?

Many of the folks who bought my balaclavas live in Montreal, where the cold winters welcome the warmth of the accessory, and the Quebec Bill 21 bans workers “in positions of authority” from wearing religious symbols including hijabs while at work. While a balaclava is generally knit and worn outside as a winter hat, and a hijab is generally a woven-scarf wrapped around the head and worn daily by Muslim women who choose to wear one. The visual similarities between the trendy headwear and the traditional head covering is striking to many Muslim women. Head and face coverings are politicized, and wearing a garment that conceals the head is not a choice that everyone can make safely. A balaclava worn by a white woman may be cute and unique, while a Muslim woman wearing a hijab —which covers the same features as a balaclava— may lose her job. Nuanced connections between race, religion, and our favourite winter accessory raise questions about who has the privilege to participate in this trend.

What is hand-made and what is made by hands?

The balaclava trend highlights a renewed appreciation for hand-made. In a time when many people’s main hobby is watching Netflix, we are reclaiming hobbies. We are learning how to value the work that goes into creating, when the time we put in at our day jobs is usually valued at less than $15.00/hour. Hand-knitting is anti-capitalist. Supporting friends and local makers is anti-capitalist. We understand the detrimental effects that fast-fashion has on the environment and on human rights, and we refuse to support it. While fast-fashion prices have taught us to expect cheapness (in price and quality), by hand-making, we are learning to appreciate the work that goes into making anything that we wear. In my opinion, even a shirt made in a factory in China is “hand-made,” as I don’t yet know of a sewing machine that can operate without hands controlling it. 

In a global situation that feels quite apocalyptic, I fear the culmination of this winter trend that will send balaclavas to thrift stores and landfills. My hope is that we will hang on to our balas and our making-skills for a future where resistance and self-sufficiency may be more valuable than financial capital.

Alison Margaret B. Moule (they/she/elle) is a maker and lover of textiles. They graduated from Concordia University in 2020, with a BFA in Art History and Studio Art and a minor in Classical Archaeology. Their work has been published by the Concordia Undergraduate Journal of Art History (CUJAH), Yiara Magazine, Hoplon (Journal of the Concordia Classics Student Association) and the Fine Arts Reading Room (FARR). They are a current graduate student in Cultural Heritage Conservation at Fleming College in Peterborough, Ontario.


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Debaser's PIQUE Returns for a Winter Edition at Arts Court and Ottawa Art Gallery

 

PIQUE poster by @mouthoftiger, original wordmark typeface created by Moritz Esch

Here to heat up December’s frost is PIQUE – back once again at Arts Court and the Ottawa Art Gallery.

The winter edition of PIQUE, a forward-thinking artist-driven music and multimedia arts event series produced by Debaser, offers live performances, in-person and online screenings, movement, installations and performance art. The multi-level building-wide arts event and digital program takes place December 4th, 2021 in-person in and around the Arts Court and Ottawa Art Gallery.

PIQUE’s third edition will feature live music performances and DJ sets, sound art installations, an in-person and online screening program of audio-visual works curated by cross-country co-presenters, performance art and original movement. PIQUE is produced by Debaser, Ottawa’s leading independent and underground music presenter.

PIQUE poster by @mouthoftiger, original wordmark typeface created by Moritz Esch

PIQUE is experimental in form and content. Its third edition features:

Photo courtesy of Debaser

Immersive sonic and visual live experience with Jerusalem in my Heart; a forging of modern experimental Arabic music wed to hand-made visuals using analog 16mm film

Photo courtesy of Ayla Hibri

Live performance by experimental Egyptian vocalist, producer and sound artist Nadah El Shazly, with visuals by Pansee Atta (visuals curated by Amin Alsaden)

Photo courtesy of Paddington Scott

Photo courtesy of Debaser

Live modular synth performance by Tkarón:to-via-Seoul based producer and DJ Korea Town Acid, with visuals by local psychedelic analog artist Hard Science

Photo courtesy of Debaser

Live performance by Tkarón:to-based psychedelic rock band Mother Tongues

Photo courtesy of Debaser

Live performance by Tkarón:to-based queer Black electronic producer & singer-songwriter shn shn

Photo courtesy of Debaser

Photo courtesy of Debaser

‘dahan, dahan’ – a meditative sound installation created by discs of ice melting onto amplified metal sculptures by multimedia artist April Aliermo (PHÈDRE) in collaboration with Kat Estacio (Pantayo) and Kristina Guison

Photo courtesy of Debaser

A danceable, beat driven live electronic performance by Tkarón:to-based act PHÈDRE, with visuals by local psychedelic analog artist Hard Science

Photo courtesy of Debaser

The first live performance in four years by local art-pop band Pony Girl

Photo courtesy of Debaser

Live performance by Tkarón:to-based pianist, composer, and singer Morgan-Paige, whose work blends contemporary, lo-fi genres with western-romanticism musical nuances, spoken word, vocals and projected visuals

Photo courtesy of Debaser

Live improvised set by experimental electronic musician Liliane Chlela

Photo courtesy of Debaser

Live ambient electronic drone performance by Kat Estacio (Pantayo)

Photo courtesy of Debaser

Live music and performance art by local pianist Stephen Eckert, performing with piano prepared with electronics

Photo courtesy of Debaser

Live set by local electro pop producer and singer-songwriter ISØBEL

Photo courtesy of Debaser

DJ mix by local free-form DJ and producer Osita

Photo courtesy of Debaser

Movement by contemporary dancer and surreal ‘mad artist’ amelia rose griffin in collaboration with Ottawa Dance Directive (ODD).

Photo courtesy of Gary Franks

Guest curation by Amin Alsaden (DARC), a curator, scholar, and educator whose work envisions novel spatial responses to questions of displacement, exile, and belonging, and whose research explores modern and contemporary art and architecture in the Global South

Photo courtesy of Debaser

Light and projection installation “Bathed in that twilight gold” and performance by Nigerian-Canadian visual artist Kosisochukwu Nnebe (curated by Amin Alsaden)

Photo courtesy of Kamryn Cusumano

Jude Abu Zaineh explores the soft power of food for diasporic communities with a precarious connection to ancestral homelands with Ingesting Home. Comprising a performance, screening, and dinner gathering hosted by the artist, Ingesting Home convenes guests around Palestinian food, poetry, and folk stories (Ccrated by Amin Alsaden)

Photo courtesy of Katherine Takpannie

Photo courtesy of Claudia Mock

Photo courtesy of Debaser

The event also features in-person and online screenings of audio-visual works curated from the 2021 programs of co-presenters: EVERYSEEKER, Suoni Per Il Popolo, Sled Island, Long Winter, and from Debaser’s own archives:

  • Silla and Rise live from Club SAW for the Many Moons Concert Series (Debaser)

  • KMRU (Suoni Per Il Popolo)

  • Amy Nelson live at the Central United Church (Sled Island)

PIQUE is produced in partnership with SAW, Ottawa Art Gallery, Wall Sound, Artengine, DAÏMÔN, Digital Arts Resource Centre, Firegrove Studio, Le Seltzer, Dominion City Brewing Co, Also Cool, Ottawa Fringe, Ottawa Dance Directive, CKCU FM, CHUO FM, Apt613, EVERYSEEKER, Suoni Per Il Popolo, Long Winter, and Sled Island, and is supported by the Canada Council for the Arts, Ontario Arts Council, Canadian Heritage, City of Ottawa, SOCAN Foundation, and FACTOR.

Tickets are pay-what-you-can, with a suggested donation of $30-$50. Tickets are on sale now on Eventbrite.

Information on COVID-19 policy, accessibility and more is available at the Eventbrite link above. For all other inquiries, please contact Rachel Weldon at hello@debaser.ca. For participating artists’ images and biographies, visit here.

Check out the full schedule for PIQUE’s winter edition below!

Debaser

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Also Cool Mag Turns Two!

 

Lately, it’s felt like there’s not enough time to catch up on life, and at the same time like 2019 was last year. October 29th marked our second birthday, and in the spirit of pandemic time not being real, we’re celebrating fashionably late to our own party. 

While it still seems unreal that this project has taken on a life of its own, we’re incredibly grateful for what it’s become. We still check every notification, freak out when we see someone wearing our merch in public, and are genuinely shocked (in the best way possible) when someone says, “Oh yeah, I’ve heard of Also Cool!” For a long time, this project only existed on our laptops, in our emails, and had barely broken into the real world, never mind the mainstream music and media industry.

Despite another year of unpredictability, we are grateful for friends like you. We’re slowly starting to meet you all in real life at events or by happy coincidence out in the world. This project continues to evolve with our community, and we are so fortunate to share our achievements with people like you who believed in our values and philosophies from the beginning. 

Some milestones from this past year include the launch of our podcast Also Cool Sounds Like on N10.as, starting our radio show on the virtual airwaves of FSR, being named as one of Montreal’s best magazines in Cult MTL, hosting panels with Fierté Montréal and Hip Hop You Don’t Stop, playing a live stream with Shift Radio, hosting an exclusive screening at SAW in Ottawa, working with the local legends at Mothland, covering FME in Rouyn-Noranda (after years without live music, RIP), watching our Co-Founder and Creative director Malaika speak at the 2021 edition of Artpreneur, and––of course––every interview, special feature, newsletter and meme dump in between. 

Oh, and we also launched a Patreon, where we send our Patrons cute snail mail letters, personalized playlists, and more! Sign up here <3

We feel very fortunate to be at a place where our publication can grow without compromise of its DIY grit and devotion to our community. We’ve gotten the chance to work and grow with so many incredible contributors over the past two years, and we can’t wait to keep expanding the team.

With that being said, we’re looking ahead to a bright future and hoping to take our project to the next level. Lately, we’ve been asking ourselves, What do we need in order to grow? What does our community need from us? and, most importantly: How can we share all this, and our platform, with you? 

It goes without saying that the last two years have been demanding, because of you-know-what and the trials and tribulations of life in general (we will never hold back from telling you all that this publication is run by real people who all have day jobs, on a volunteer basis). Regardless, this project is what has kept us going in dark times, and what has helped us believe that people really do care about the creative community that surrounds them. People want to love the city they’re in and discover other creatives who are just like them, and if we can have a hand in helping with those connections, we will do everything in our power to keep that DIY spirit alive.

We’re so excited about planning for this next era of Also Cool, and will hopefully be seeing you on a dancefloor very soon. As always, if you want to get involved in some way, or just want to chat, we’re an email or a DM away. 

Anyways, what we’re saying is that knowing that you all still pick up what we’re putting down is a tremendous gift, and it is our honour to keep this platform enlightening, inquisitive, and cool.

Until next time,

XOXO Also Cool

 

Doulaing During a Time of Uncertainty: Lena Ford’s Journey Through Birth Spaces as a Montreal-Based Doula

 

Artwork by Liv Meek AKA Regularfantasy

Editor’s note: The following article explores themes that readers may find distressing, including medical racism and death. Reader discretion is advised.

In our latest feature, Concordia University student Celia Caldwell interviews Montreal-based doula Lena Ford about her career in the birthing field. In their three-part conversation, Caldwell and Ford discuss the important (and often unrecognized) work led by doulas in birthing spaces, and how systemic inequality and the COVID-19 pandemic Impact professionals and clients alike.

I. DOULAING YOURSELF

Celia Caldwell: What made you want to become a doula?

Lena Ford: Around age fourteen or fifteen, I realized that I was fascinated by pregnancy. I thought it was the most intriguing yet bizarre thing and I knew that I wanted to be involved. In high school, I would watch birth videos from the glow of my screen. My classmates hovered over my shoulder and scoffed, Why are you watching birth videos? 

As time progressed, I learned about doulaing. My parents had a doula when I was born, and now she is my mentor. A lot of people think that being a doula is a gateway to becoming a midwife. While that can be the case, I am more so interested in the emotional side of birth. 

CC: Can you talk a little bit about what doula training is like?

LF: The most reputable household-name in North American doula training is DONA. When I read about DONA, I didn’t know if it was a good fit for me. It mostly entailed readings, and it was a weekend-long in-person training. So much of this work consists of educating yourself on how to naturally bond with, react to, and care for people. The idea of only having a weekend of training made me uncomfortable. 

I wanted to look for something else. I was told through my friend’s mom —who is a midwife— that a well-known doula in Toronto named Sasha had a training program called Awakening the Village. My eyes lit up because Sasha was my parents’ doula. Sasha and I had never talked before; she hadn’t seen me since the day I was born. One morning, I called her and said, “I don’t know if you remember me, but you were at my birth in Toronto.” 

It was lovely coming together. We were both emotional and I felt at home with the idea of her as my mentor. The training is a weekly meeting on Zoom. I’m just so grateful that I had the opportunity to do this because, obviously, we learned about practical skills and how to best support people. But the emphasis is on doulaing yourself and working on yourself before you can do this for other people. 

That [approach] has been so incredibly helpful, and now I am a part of the Alumni Program at Awakening the Village. I can jump in and out of any call that the new cohort is attending. It’s an amazing community.

CC: I oftentimes feel like doulas are not recognized for their labour. I think the work can go unseen or not receive recognition from the general public, and even people within the birthing field like midwives and doctors. It can be perceived as an almost invisible labour, especially with home-births because they take place behind closed doors. In general, there is a patriarchal pressure to keep the process of birth and anything post-birth private. How do you grapple with not receiving recognition from others? 


LF: This is a field that is not recognized very much at all. Midwifery is completely discredited. To this day, it is still not regulated in both Prince Edward Island and the Yukon. Doulaing is even more undervalued than midwifery. I experience so many different types of births. Whereas, if you’re a midwife, more often you’re experiencing a specific kind of birth. If you’re an obstetrician, then it’s a specific kind of birth. 

A doula can show up to any birth space, so I think there’s a hard-line when we’re not medically trained and we’re not supposed to give any sort of medical advice. I think finding that line is difficult, and it’s so incredibly hard to make yourself seem worthy, especially in a hospital space. 

Half of the work is just trying to prove that we have a place in the birth space. Especially with the whole rise of the medical-industrial complex in Western society. All of the emphasis is on the doctor, the baby and what’s going to make the process of birth the most efficient. None of the emphasis is placed on the birth-giver and their well-being. There is an enormous clash between medical professionals and the individuals that are offering the birth-giver emotional support. 


II. A HOME-BIRTH IN THE AGE OF COVID-19 

CC: You mentioned to me that you attended a birth in April of 2020 during the first wave of the pandemic, when the entire world didn’t really know what to make of COVID-19 yet. Can you tell me about this experience?

LF: My client was planning on giving birth at the hospital. I met her and her husband right before the pandemic, just two months before their due date. This was daunting for me because I was going to have to navigate the hospital system for the first time. 

I feel more drawn to home-births, but I was excited nonetheless. When the pandemic hit, hospitals were, and are pretty much still, only allowing one support person in at a birth. Oftentimes it is the partner, but in certain situations, the primary person would be the doula if the birth giver does not have a partner. With only one support person in the hospital, doulas were being shut out. Even worse; some people were forced to give birth alone, which was the most heartbreaking thing for the birth community to hear. 

This generated lots of discussion on the doula-related Facebook groups that I am involved in. There was a conflict between wanting to respect the hospital’s COVID-19 restrictions and ensuring that our voices were being heard. 

As I scrolled through paragraphs of doulas’ stories, I thought to myself, We do deserve a place in the hospital, we are essential. One can look at it like, It’s all fun and games. We do our grounding meditations and we bring our essential oils and we let our clients relax on us. One can easily stereotype a doula. However, if you see the stats and do the research about postpartum, you will see that we change lives. 

It was challenging because I didn’t want to scare my client, but I needed to prepare them in case I wasn’t allowed to attend the birth.

I said, “I still want to be on call. I still want to know when she’s going into labour, so I will be available by phone if you need me.” At 11PM, the day after my client’s due date, I received a call from her husband. 

He calmly said, “Hi, she’s having contractions. Also, we just decided to have a home-birth. Can you come?” 

CC: What did the home-birth setting feel like and look like?

LF: The bed took up the entire room. We were all shuffling past each other. The husband felt uneasy about seeing his wife in an extraordinary amount of pain. It was tense, but we all had to keep that at bay for the sake of creating a calm environment for my client. 

The entire experience was rather eerie but, also, so incredibly beautiful at the same time. Their son was fast asleep in the next room. My client didn’t want to wake him up, but I told her, “You have to release whatever you need to release.” The reality of birthing in a city, in a high-rise with neighbors nearby, heightened the tension.


III. SOCIOECONOMIC INEQUALITY & RACISM IN BIRTH SPACES 

CC: What is the most rewarding part of being a doula? Or can you think of a rewarding moment that you’ve had?

LF: Being present for someone else’s birthing experience is as much of a gift to me as it is for [my clients]. 

At the end of the day, when the baby arrives, a tranquilizing wave fills the room. Everyone releases a sigh of relief. All of the intensity that once consumed the room floats away when the baby begins to cry. At that moment, you are overwhelmed by human life. My mind is submerged in disbelief by the birth-giver’s accomplishment.

Though I want to make a career out of this and support myself, I recognize that the birth community needs professionals to do labour pro-bono as well. At the same time, I also know that birthing experiences for white people are so incredibly different than for Black, Indigenous and racialized people. So, it is important to make space for doulas of colour to connect with their communities, as some clients of course prefer a person of colour to support them during their birth.

The statistics are appalling when you see how many people of colour die in childbirth due to systemic racism. One thing that excites me about this work is that I have the opportunity to step into birth spaces and do what I can for my clients. But, I also know that I don’t have all of the answers, and it’s not necessarily me that needs to be the one to support them.

Learning to be a doula has honestly changed the way I live my life. I am learning to reach outside of myself and give my all to someone else. Doulaing has given me the gift of holding space for other people. I am having a hard time finding the balance in that too.

I think what’s interesting about this job is that I will never not be learning. It is incredibly daunting to reflect on. I see that in my mentor and in other doulas that I have spoken to. I’m going to come across something new in every single birth that I attend and every family that I work for.

Celia Caldwell (she/her) is a Tiohtiá:ke/Montreal-based writer. She was born and raised in Nacotchtank/ Washington, D.C. She currently studies Honours English & Creative Writing at Concordia University. She was the Development intern at PEN America. In the fall of 2019, she was the Assistant Outreach Coordinator at Vallum Contemporary Poetry Magazine. She is interested in the intersections of poetry, journalism, mental health awareness, and learning disability politics.

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Liv Meek is a graphic designer, DJ and music producer based out of Montreal.

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This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.


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