theworksblog

[theworksblog]

Sand Castles - New Considerations in Drawing

By: Daniel Li , Production Assistant.

Sculpture was never something that I had ever been particularly interested in until the latter half of my first year in university. It was in the basement of the Northern Powerplant at the UofA, that we were assigned to create a portrait bust of a fellow classmate using clay. Initially, it was quite tedious and I did not enjoy that project. However it was after completing it, that I noticed that drawing faces became strangely easier. It wasn’t long after I theorized what was happening:

When creating a three-dimensional representation of a subject in space, one is simultaneously creating an infinite number of two-dimensional representations that are stacked upon each other in all directions - something so obvious that I missed it. Therefore, it was only natural that such was not just happening to me.

Working in The Works Art & Design Festival, I had the privilege of collaborating with Michael Conforti on a sand castle (under a tent in the middle of the Capital Plaza one afternoon) in promoting another festival we are partnered with - Sand on Whyte. Having never played in the sandbox as a child, sand was a strange medium to me. The brittleness of wet sand was squishy and somewhat fluid at the same time. The motions my hands were used to (in working with clay) did not apply, and although such is obvious in a rational sense, muscular instincts did not get the message.

Once again, I have been made aware of something that has been obvious the whole time: the motion of my hands. Now, the learning cycle repeats when I pick up another pencil...

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About the author: Run Ze (Daniel) Li is a visual artist from Calgary, Alberta. He is currently completing his final year at the University of Alberta in the B.F.A. program. His primary focus is in painting, but also works in sculpture. Run Ze is deeply interested in philosophy and psychology. Much of his work is about asking and exploring existential questions, as well as, finding the underlying causes of particular human experiences.  

[theworksblog]

Dyscorpia

By: Alfred Muszynski, Production Assisstant.

The fascinating thing about digitization of the body is that you will not notice it on your physical self. The discovery of the digital body is a bit like discovering yourself as the host of your own doppelgänger. And after seeing the Dyscorpia exhibit at the Enterprise Square Gallery, you might have the feeling this “Body 2.0” is, at last, trying to shed it’s skin with disregard for it’s biological home. 

One of the great achievement of this exhibit is giving you the feeling that you are meeting on equal grounds with technology. The reason for this reconciliation is that this meeting occurs inside and on your very familiar and somewhat predictable body. In Brad Neck and Dan Harvey’s “Solastalgia” you find yourself surrounded by screens of deformed natural landscape and you can easily imagine that if your digital identity was to look for a natural haven, this could be it. An overwhelming nature which still manages to leave space for rest and control. A text reads: “Solastagia names the melancholy experienced when home itself becomes new and uncanny” and upon reading it I realized that maybe it was about time, we welcomed our body into the digital home we denied it access to. 

The mind has been an overpowering presence in our consumption of virtual space and any introduction of the body into it feels clumsy and unpractical. But when you enter the A-Life team’s project “Human in the Loop” you can see your body transferring to digital space in a way that is simple, intuitive but meaningful nonetheless. Your presence is captured by visual captor to then be projected in front of you where it is consumed by many geometric creatures powered by a constantly learning artificial intelligence. While it might not be physically interacted with, your body is accounted for and stimulated. It’s presence or absence has a significance. What I thoroughly enjoy about this project is that it does not consider the body as a mere support for a VR headset that might feel to some like an unnatural extension. It is a fluid transfer of a presence which then acts productively in the digital world by being a learning tool for AI. 

The second great aspect of this piece is that it answers an other great issue of virtuality which is the lack of digital literacy. It does so by presenting in detail the code behind the installation for all to see and learn from. 

I could go on about the many projects that have captivated me in Dyscorpia but my personal take away is that most of these projects have given my lonely digital body a sense of home and vulnerability which is lacking in the current cyberspace. My body has found common ground with immateriality and I believe that for the time of my visit my digital alter ego has shed it’s old skin and found itself a place to rest for a while.

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About the author: Born in New York in 1998, Alfred Muszynski is an interdisciplinary artist working in new medias,performance and painting. He lives and works in Montreal and is now working towards a BFA at Concordia University. His work acts as a contemplative experience of virtuality, evolution and spatialdimensions. His process is also heavily inspired by the theory of the independent cyberspace popularized by John Perry Barlow. He has exhibited at Quebec’s intercollegiate of visual arts for two consecutive years and has participated in multiple student exhibitions such as Metamorphosis, held at Espace Cercle Carré, Montreal which allowed him to be featured in an online publication on LaPresse. 

[theworksblog]

The Work Behind the Walls

By: Claire MacMahon, Production Assistant.

Before coming to work with The Works as a production intern, I can’t say I ever thought about the logistics of making a festival tent into a professional art gallery, but accomplishing this task is one of the most important parts of festival set up and take down. Luckily for my fellow interns and I, there were years of interns before us who figured out the logistics. We just had to learn them. So, here is what you need and how it works:

What you will need and how it works!

1) The walls

When lining a 20 by 20 ft tent with portable walls, one of the most important tools is teamwork. The walls each weigh over 150lbs so lifting them into place is impossible to accomplish on one’s own. Through teamwork, with some people in front, some behind and some even on ladders, we accomplished our task. This is when I realized how much of a team the production interns had really become. It was incredible to go from hardly knowing each other and ever imagining putting up a wall, to feeling comfortable putting them up as a cohesive team.

2) Paint tape and lots of Magic Erasers

Once the walls are up, the next step is a lot of fine tuning. When one thinks of a professional art gallery, pristine white walls usually come to mind. There are few tricks and tools we use to get as close to this as possible. The first is tape. Our walls are only four feet long, so we are left with a lot of seams to distract from the art. A quick solution is to cover them with white tape. Add a little paint on top and it could almost be part of the wall. Finally, when it comes to getting that pristine art gallery look, a box full of Magic Erasers can take the walls from looking worn and old to art ready.

3) Clip lights and a web of extension cords

When working outdoors, lighting can be unpredictable. On a nice sunny day the art may be very well lit, but when the clouds blow in, it is a very different story. Clip lights can help. Clip lights give us the ability to clamp them to the cables at the top of the tent, but there is only one plugin per tent. Extension cords are very useful and through the magic of a lot of winding and tucking of cords, we now have our gallery lit with minimal exposed cords.

One of our cleanest and most pristine galleries holds Stephanie Medford’s piece Drawn In, not because you can see all the details and hard work that I mentioned above, but because you can’t. It is beautifully lit with clean white walls, which if done right doesn’t draw your attention, but instead focuses it on the art. It is very rewarding to create an atmosphere where people can appreciate great artists and the art that we have within the gallery walls.

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About the author: Claire MacMahon is a mixed media artist who primarily works in sculpture. She is entering into her third year at Alberta University of the Arts in Calgary, where she has started exploring medias such as glass blowing and metal work. Recently Claire has been mixing new medias such as video and projection with traditional mediums like glass blowing and ceramics to create immersive environments within her work. Another passion of Claire's that has started to bleed into her art is researching sea life and aquatic plants: she has incorporated this into her ceramic work. 

[theworksblog]

Festival Survival Guide for Production interns

By: Callum McKenzie, Production Assistant.

Working for The Works is a lot of work. Especially in the week and half leading up to festival. You learn a lot about things you weren’t expecting to learn a lot about. Like wood, screws, prerequisites for Instagram swipe links and Verified status, and office acronyms. Problem solving becomes second nature to you, or you at least learn how to hum and haw in ways that inspire others in their problem solving. Production interns are instrumental in preparing for, setting up, and running a free art festival. You contribute to an awesome experience for so many people, but the week leading up to festival feels less than awesome. There are many things you learn through experience, in-class sessions and conversations with your peers. However, there are some things you can not truly grasp until you experience them. The pre-festival scramble is a great indicator of things you did not know that you did not know, or that you did not know how best to prepare for. So, I have put together a list of a three key festival survival tips to help you prepare:

1. Whether it’s rain or shine, prepare for the weather.

Who knew just how blinding white paint is when it’s reflecting full sun? You did not until you were squinting your way through a paint-job on a FTP (I still don’t fully know what that stands for, but I know it’s a wall…). Painting white walls or plinths or other miscellaneous objects in the glaring sun is a lot less painful with sunglasses and sunscreen. Sunscreen is vital, so you don’t get crispy fried working outside in the sun for most of the day... and you are outside a lot.

Rain can also be a pain, but for other reasons. It makes you cold and damp if you’re not dressed for it. There is a significant difference between water resistant and water proof. I hope you don’t learn this the hard way. Having a good rain jacket on hand is very useful, but also grab a few extra layers for underneath. Maybe some water repellant pants while you’re at it. You never know when you’ll be lying beneath an uncovered stair case in the pouring rain to secure the lower steps.

2. Tell your friends, family and even your dog that you might not be able to reliably be there for them.

Everyone in at the Works gets in a lot of overtime leading up to and during the festival. Some projects take a lot longer than anticipated or complications arise, so you need to be prepared to stick around and help your team. It’s inevitable that this overtime gets in the way of your social life and that’s okay. Be aware that you might have to cancel or postpone plans so just keep the people in your life updated. Tell your mom you’ll be late for dinner, tell your friends you might need to hang out another day, tell your pet that you value and love them unconditionally but they might have to eat a little later in the evening.

3. Take care of yourself.

You are a human being and you have basic needs. Fulfill them. Eat enough food, drink enough water, get enough sleep. It’s easier said than done, but making sure you’re well rested and energized makes the long work days so much easier to get through. Bring snacks to fend off the hunger and stabilize your energy levels but try to avoid snacks that are high in sugar so your energy doesn’t crash an hour after eating them. If you have the capacity to do so, bring some snacks to share with your team. You’ll help them stay functioning and you’ll all be happy together.

Those were just a few tips that are useful and applicable to every festival since the specific festival requirements change every year. They’re mostly common sense, but sometimes stress makes common sense less common. In those kind of stressful situations, little reminders can be useful.

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About the author: Callum McKenzie is a visual communication design and printmaking student at the University of Alberta. He has shown work at various galleries and exhibitions including the Change Climate exhibition and a group show at Coral Plaza in his hometown of Edmonton. Callum explores the intersections of masculinity, queerness and emotional expression through his print work. He hopes to highlight alternative and healthy forms of masculinity. In addition to design and printmaking, Callum practices his drawing skills and obsesses over paper. He combines his passions in the practice of bookbinding. To see some of his work, check out his Instagram profile, @humdrum_and_callum.

[theworksblog]

Stand and Deliver: Stacey Cann and the Art of Labour

By: Brittany Gergel, Curatorial Coordinator.

Image: Scrub, by Stacey Cann. 

A figure in a red, polka-dotted dress emerges from the wings of The Works Art & Design Festival’s Capital Plaza. She carries a mop bucket and tucks a duster against the small of her back. Her heeled loafers tap delicately against the tiled ground. A pause. The figure falls to her knees. She removes a sponge from her bucket and scrubs the well-traversed tile before her. Without fanfare, Deliver has begun.

Stacey Cann’s durational performance explores the gendered expectations of labour. Through publicly enacting the gestures of domestic labour⁠—coordinating tasks, organizing and cleaning up after⁠—Cann bears and amplifies the weight of these gestures. Her body tenses with each scrubbing and dusting motion. Sweat beads on her brow, no doubt exacerbated by her gendered polyester garb. She is all at once exaggeratedly deliberate and skillfully subtle.

In the tradition of the performance of domestic labour (Mierle Laderman Ukeles’ Maintainance Art comes to mind), a compelling aspect of Deliver is the artistic treatment Cann gives the unfairly prescribed yet necessary. Cann’s labour-come-art is both hyper-visible and invisible. Her dress and loafers are a legible caricature of the mid-century American housewife, transplanted into a 2019 public. More telling, however, is how easily Cann and her aestheticized labour blend into her environment. The tidying, clearing and washing enacted by Cann are absurdly ordinary, and subsumed by the action of the Downtown festival. Besides the adjacent display of a handwritten chore chart and a tongue-in-cheek sign reading ‘men at work,’ the gestures associated with Deliver are easily naturalized as “just someone cleaning up”⁠—a terrifying appraisal that wherever you are, a woman in uniform is likely tidying up after those around her.

Please pay Stacey Cann and the labouring women around you diligence for what they deliver. And make sure your Food Street refuse ends up in a trash can.

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About the author: Brittany Gergel is currently completing a BA Honours in the History of Art, Design and Visual Culture at the University of Alberta. She participated in the Faculty of Art & Design’s 2018 collaboration project “Anthropocities”, publishing art interpretation in the project’s peer reviewed catalogue and for display at the IPCC’s Cities and Climate Change Conference. She received the Faculty’s Margret Andrekson Scholarship in Art History in 2018 for superior academic achievement. In 2019, she completed an honours thesis, (i)Obstetrical Authority in a Nineteenth-Century Atlas with Flaps(/i). Her areas of focus are Anthropocene ethics and the history of medicine as they intersect with visual and material culture.

[theworksblog]

“I’m gonna live forever,” says plastic.

By: Iris Baguinon, Marketing Assistant.

Early this year, I started my journey on a sustainability and less waste lifestyle. This started in hopes that my future children will get to enjoy a sustainable and less toxic planet. Sounds like a hopeless dream, isn’t it?

The disposable plastic products we use every day are anything but disposable in environmental terms, and can take over 400 years to biodegrade. The booming production of plastics in recent years, fueled by demand for single-use items such as coffee cups and bottled water, means the world has manufactured more plastic in the last decade than in the whole of the previous century.

One of the most durable plastic items is beer holders or also known as six-pack rings, which can take 450 years to biodegrade. And much like plastic straws, six pack rings are often seen as enemies of the ocean. Although six-pack rings account for only a tiny fraction of all the plastic trash in the oceans, images of helpless marine animals like sea turtles with plastic six-pack rings encircling their bodies bring attention to some beer companies trying to create new, innovative ways to hold the cans together without trapping marine animals.

At The Works Art & Design Festival, artist Yong Fei Guan has been exploring plastic debris as contemporary Chinese icons. Given her background and training as a Master Composter Recycler by the City of Edmonton, the concept of re-imagining waste is at the core of her creative practice. If you’re at the Festival, Fei’s massive piggy bank sculpture is hard to miss. With its striking golden colour and bright eyes, you will get drawn in to it.

As you look from afar, you will see just a monstrous pig, but as you look closely, you will discover that the beautiful Chinese icon is made of six-pack rings– the waste that find their way to the oceans and harm the marine life.

Yong Fei Guan’s 金猪 Golden Pig is a commentary on how much plastic waste we accumulate every day. Fei’s work reflects her multicultural identity, politics, and their relationship to environmental issues.

Of all the artworks in the Festival, Fei’s piece is the closest to my heart. It’s the first work I tell my family and friends when asked what they could see at the Festival. I tell them about Fei’s dedication to eliminate plastic waste in Edmonton. And as the conversation continues, I share my own commitment to practice a less-waste lifestyle for the next generations after me.

Eliminating plastic waste altogether may seem like an impossible dream, but starting to eliminate plastic waste in our own footprint is a doable task.

Come see Fei’s Golden Pig at The Works Art & Design Festival. And as you investigate her work, take a pause, and ask yourselves what you can do to reduce your own single-use plastics. When will you take your pledge? 

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About the author: Iris Baguinon is an emerging arts administrator with specializations in Marketing, Social Media Content Marketing, and Guest Relations. She completed her Diploma in Arts and Cultural Management with distinction at MacEwan University in 2018. Prior to joining The Works, she coordinated volunteers, and designed marketing materials for other arts organizations, including Ice on Whyte and Edmonton Heritage Festival. Born and raised in the Philippines, Iris now proudly calls Edmonton her home, where she is involved in the city’s theatre community as a Front-of-house staff at Theatre Network. Iris loves social media, and you can follow her #yegarts adventures on Instagram, @iris.baguinon. 

[theworksblog]

Music To My Eyes: Describing Elisapie’s music and other impossible tasks.

By: Chloe Gust, Marketing Assistant.

Fundamentally, music is made up of all the same things as speech. Sound waves tumbling through our ears to make noise that some time ago we all agreed, “this means something.” Music is just more waves

Tasked with writing the Press Release for The Works Street Stage, I started to listen to music that would be featured on our stage. I heard all of these waves, and was in charge of writing about them in a way that would resonate enough to attract someone to The Works Art & Design Festival. Choosing an artist to write about is itself an impossible task, with over 70 artists performing more than 130 hours of live music, comedy, poetry, and more. We are partnered with TD Edmonton International Jazz Festival to provide Works with Jazz, Jazz in the Park, and with Festival Edmonton Chante to help produce amazing line-ups, including celebrating Saint-Jean-Baptiste Day and National Indigenous Peoples’ Day.

This is where I found Elisapie.

This Quebec-born, Inuk singer, songwriter, documentary filmmaker, and general coolest-person-in-the-room is making music that has captured my attention and refuses to let it go.

She’s performing TODAY, Friday, June 21, 2019 at 7:30PM and now I am overwhelmed with the need to convince everyone to go see her perform because her music is amazing. But “amazing” is a nothing word! How do I write words that explain not only what her music is, but also why you need to go and see it? Music journalists practice this craft for years and years and still sometimes get caught up.

 All I can do is try.

Elisapie has been performing since she was 12, when she worked with the Salluit band Sugluk. Her latest album, titled The Ballad of the Runaway Girl, dropped in 2018. Singing in English, French, and Inuktitut, Elisapie’s dreamy voice carries so much meaning that you don’t need to understand what she’s saying to feel what it means. Layered harmonies (in songs like Una), gorgeous guitars (Rodeo (Yadi Yada), Wolves Don’t Live by the Rules), and driving, building drums (Qanniuguma, Arnaq) build this incredibly vast sound. The Ballad of the Runaway Girl is an album that should be consumed in its entirety in one sitting, every time you listen to it. It sounds like the soundtrack to an Oscar-winning movie. It’s one of those albums that you feel conflicted telling people about because you enjoy it so much – should you share it with everyone or keep it just for you. (I’ve written this blog as an excuse to listen to the album over and over again.)

I don’t know if Elisapie’s music will move anyone the way it moves me, but that’s why I love it. The Works Art & Design Festival’s theme this year is CODE, and I am so fortunate to be able to provide a key to my interpretation of The Ballad of the Runaway Girl, so that you can try and decode her performance yourself, tonight, June 21, 7:30PM, at The Works Street Stage on Capital plaza.

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About the author: Chloe Gust is a modern storyteller from Lethbridge, Alberta, focusing on long-form non-fiction content. Curious about the impact of technology on storytelling, she aims to create podcasts, essays and broadcasts that explore interconnectedness and diversity. Gust recently completed her B.A. in English with distinction and Co-op designation from the University of Lethbridge. Funded by a scholarship from the University of Alberta, Chloe was one of ten Alberta post-secondary students accepted to the 2018 Alberta-Smithsonian Internship Program. She traveled to Washington, D.C., to be the Writer/Editor Intern for the Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum. Find Chloe online @cholegust on Twitter and Instagram, or at chloegust.wordpress.com

[theworksblog]

The William Paskins Residence

By: Caitlin Davis, Volunteer Coordinator.

Interviewing volunteers is one of the best and worst parts of my job. Getting to meet the 150+ amazing individuals who donate their time in order to help put on The Works could possibly be the best part of my entire summer. Each person brings their own unique stories, talents and motivation which places them at a special place within the heart of The Festival. Talking over their skills and interests helps us to tailor the volunteer experience we provide in order to make it fulfilling in their eyes, and therefore improving the entire experience of The Festival.

However, the actual logistics behind these interviews are time consuming and require both flexibility and patience. Setting up interviews often requires multiple communications about time, date, and location. Location is the most important, as sometimes giving the address to The Works office isn’t as simple as one may think. Many people I talk to walk past it a first time without even realizing that they did. The office is within the William Paskins Residence. Built in 1902, the William Paskins Residence is the earliest surviving example of the Queen Anne style in Edmonton. Disguised behind moldings, scrolled brackets, balustrades and decorative spindle work, no one suspects there to be twenty some individuals working to put on a festival inside.

These interviews can interrupt other events and work throughout the day, and at times need to take place outside of typical work hours. Since we accept volunteers right up to and including during The Festival, it sometimes comes down to a phone call interview, which has logistics of it’s own.

With the headache one can imagine that comes with having to interview, schedule, reschedule, continually communicate and follow up, I often get asked why I love my job so much. How does one remember the faces and names and details behind every one of our over 150 volunteers? The answer is - sometimes I don’t. But I take the time and effort to try and learn them all, and often it happens by happy accident. Simply put, each volunteer has grown to take a place within my own heart. They are some of the most fantastic people I have had the fortunate opportunity to get to know. And whenever I talk to anyone else who has worked with our volunteers before, they say the same.

When you come down to The Festival, take the opportunity to talk to the volunteers. Each one of these amazing individuals have a fantastic story disguised within them. Without their hard work and unique talents, The Works Art & Design Festival would not be possible.

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About the Author: Caitlin Davis is a third year Design Studies student at MacEwan University from Weyburn, Saskatchewan. Upon her entrance to the Design Studies program, she received one of ten entrance scholarships, and the Mad Hatters Scholarship. Currently, she has a strong interest in print design, including magazines, books, and album covers, as well as a passion for typography. Caitlin enjoys being involved in the Edmonton art community and hopes to continue meeting others who share this passion.

[theworksblog]

Decode the visuals behind the festival

By: Marie Yuan, Design Assistant

Image by Zag Creative

The theme of this year’s festival is “Code” and we are happy to partner with Zag Creative to create a fun and exciting marketing campaign to bring this theme to life. Code refers to a system of information embedded in linguistic, visual, and sensory forms. It could be used to simplify or complicate the message. In the interest of decrypting the visual codes of this marketing campaign, I invite you to think of your own interpretations of these graphics.  

I see the bright pink and teal colours as a playful tone for the campaign while the tagline “Decode as you see it fit” unveils the theme: “Code”. Looking at the poster, the first thing that caught my eye was the extraordinary glasses with artistic flair. Theses glasses are a visual code for you to solve and understand its meanings. Decorated with colourful paper or flowers, the glasses could be perceived as a piece of art or as a metaphor representing the distinct perceptions of individuals. While the colourful lenses allow us to immerse ourselves in a space where we feel comfortable to be ourselves, they may regulate how we view and think in this society.

However, the best part of decoding at The Works is that there are no right or wrong answers, as long as the message makes sense to you. The beauty of the festival is that we appreciate the uniqueness of each individual's interpretation and we embrace the diversity of different contexts. We encourage you to join us for the festival and enjoy the process of decoding our many art exhibits.

Image by Zag Creative 

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About the author: Marie Yuan is a designer, illustrator, and pre-service art educator from Taiwan. With a B.D. in Graphic Design, Marie worked as a graphic designer in an advertising agency with a focus on print and digital media in Canada. She is currently studying Education at University of Alberta, majoring in art and design. Her designs involve educational purposes and storytelling with colourful illustrations, hand-lettering, and interactive components. With a passion in how design thinking enhances user experiences and positively affects communities, she aims to incorporate design thinking and creativity in classrooms. With a belief that everyone is an artist and a designer in nature, she hopes to empower students to be lifelong learners and creative problem-solvers.

[theworksblog]

The Whole is Greater Than the Sum of its Parts

By: Amy Malach, Volunteer Administration Assistant

Photo: Amy and the wooden puzzle at the market, taken by Heather Savard.

One of our many exciting tasks working in the volunteer department is our occasional trips to local farmer’s markets. These outings are intended to both recruit new volunteers and advertise for the festival. Every time we head out to the markets we make sure to bring our trifold, handbills, brochures, applications, candy, pins, stickers, email sign up sheets, and of course; our giant wooden puzzle. 

On market days, transporting this puzzle can be one of our most difficult tasks. There are a few reasons hauling this puzzle around town is one of our less preferred activities. With each large coloured piece being made entirely of solid wood, the sheer weight of the puzzle itself is extremely heavy (can anyone say arm day?). The wooden box also has no handles and a few protruding nails, which needless to say makes for some often difficult and painful attempts at trying to get a good grip, especially when the only parking spot available near the market is across a busy street with a shortly timed walk signal. Despite the trouble it takes to carry these puzzle pieces to every market, they seem to be the biggest draw for many passersby. It always proves to have been worth the trouble of bringing along the puzzle, as children and adults alike love to come put some pieces together or add onto the already existing structures, creating something unique and intriguing with every new addition. 

Much like how the farmer’s market patrons contribute to the interconnected structures created out of the puzzle pieces, our volunteers all have an important place in our festival and are all in essence, the “puzzle pieces” that come together to create the structure of the festival.  Some pieces reliably ground the structure and prevent it from tipping over, while others placed on top create intricate and eye-catching arrangements. The pieces can work and be placed together in many different ways, their versatility allowing countless possibilities. Our volunteers also possess these qualities and more. They are reliable, creative, unique, and adaptable and without them, the festival would most certainly not be possible. In both the interviewing and scheduling of volunteers for the festival, I am amazed at the diverse backgrounds of our volunteers as well as the numerous strengths and attributes they possess. I know that much like the pieces in our farmer’s market puzzle, each role they fill and the work they do will interconnect to make something great. With all of this being said, I think it’s clear that in these days leading up to the festival, I am very excited to see how these “pieces” will fit together to create an amazing whole. 

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About the author: Amy Malach is a fourth-year student at the University of Alberta majoring in psychology and double minoring in art & design and Italian. She is excited to expand her artistic knowledge and gain invaluable interpersonal experience working in the volunteer department in the Works to Work program. Amy is a current member of the University of Alberta Mixed Chorus, working on attaining her grade 9 RCM certificate for piano, and is a four-time recipient of the band student of the year award for alto saxophone. She has a deep appreciation for and interest in all things creative and hopes to combine her love of art, music, and psychology in her future pursuits. 

[theworksblog]

Cassette tapes or piano keys?

By: Heather Savard, Volunteer Administration Assistant.

I never knew the Works Art and Design Festival existed before applying to its internship program. Then, on my first day of work I missed the house completely. I walked willfully past its location on 106a Ave, and I reached 107 Ave confused. Squinting at Google maps, I executed a swift pivot, hoping the house would appear on my second pass. Thankfully it did, and seeing the steel sculptures out front the red and yellow building confirmed it.This is to say that both the internship and its location surprised me, and my placement as Volunteer Assistant continues to reveal the unexpected.

For instance, I did not expect a local restaurant owner to want to donate to an Art and Design Festival because he had previously trained as an opera singer, and I was delighted to hear about a volunteer’s experience taking silversmithing classes. These moments of discovery have become a favourite part of my job. I am constantly surprised with how people interact and want to be involved in art. My preconceived expectations are being challenged and rebuilt.

On that note, we hosted a volunteer recruitment barbecue at The Works on Wednesday evening. The afternoon was spent putting up streamers, balloons, tents and hoping the weather would cooperate. The wind kept loosening the tape we used to anchor the streamers, and a couple trips up the ladder were made to secure them. We also had a painting activity set up in the corner, and I had seen one of the images to be painted, which was clearly was a cassette tape: a rectangle with twin center circles and lines depicting the classic grooves. At the end of evening, I saw a volunteer painting that image and firmly connected it to a set of piano keys, collaged alongside a speaker. When I realized it was the same image that I had been convinced was a cassette tape, it transformed before my eyes. As the festival unfolds and we only get busier, I am pretty sure it’s not the last time I will expect cassette tapes and end up with pianos.

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About the author: Heather Savard is an interdisciplinary artist based in Edmonton. She first attended the University of Alberta where she completed a Bachelor of Science in Kinesiology in 2016. She then moved to Halifax, where from the Nova Scotia College of Art and Design, she obtained a Bachelor of Fine Arts in Interdisciplinary Studies. During her time at NSCAD, she was nominated for the International Sculpture Center Outstanding Student Achievement in Contemporary Sculpture Award in 2018 and her work Family Portrait, is currently on display at the Halifax Stanfield International Airport. 

[theworksblog]

I became a Situationist and all I got was this t-shirt

By: Haylee Fortin, Curatorial Assistant.

Image: Drawing by the author Haylee Fortin

Without access to a car, I do a lot of walking. In this process of moving, a physical connection is created between body and place. Walking can be meditative, energizing, challenging and rewarding. As the act of walking translates distance into time, sights seen, sounds heard and energy spent, it imparts an appreciation for what exists between point A and point B. However, with the advent of digitizing maps at the street level, walking is affected more and more by the technology we use.

Bekk Wells’ The Walking Stitch, is an ongoing project which invites participants to explore and re-think wayfinding in urban spaces through walking and craft. Maps of the participant’s city are printed onto fabric and then made into pillows. Wells encourages small groups to set out on an exploratory route, to seek out unfamiliar places or re-experience the familiar in a new way. Each person is given a printed pillow, as well as a needle and thread to stitch the progress of their path. With every iteration of The Walking Stitch a new physical record of a walk taken is generated.

There is a commitment to meandering in The Walking Stitch that contrasts the increasingly common practice of using an app to deliver the most efficient and direct course to a destination. Wells’ work responds to the Situationists’ practice of dérive, an unplanned journey guided by the landscape and whatever encounters take place en route. Movement without purpose is at odds with the new trend towards monetizing where people go, when they go and how they get there. In a society of smart phone users, we are often unknowingly supplying the data of our day to day movements to interested parties through “geolocation” data. Phone applications like the popular Pokémon Go have the ability through their terms and conditions to track user’s location in real time, allowing marketers the possibility of predicting a user’s buying habits or digitally customizing advertising to each individual. Habits that may be imperceptible to you are useful to companies that see your potential as a consumer. To deviate from your daily routine is disruptive to this form of data collection.

Without a labeled map or destination, The Walking Stitch requires you to take notice of the space around you and operate, albeit temporarily, outside of your usual routine. By isolating map reading and embroidery as experiences without an express goal, Wells draws your attention to their changing roles in a society inundated with technology. What future do these skills have?  As we move towards an increasingly digitized world, it’s worth contemplating how the loss of analog knowledge impacts our relationship with digital systems.  

Image: Bekk Wells’ The Walking Stitch, 2019 

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About the author: Creative both in practice and thought, Haylee Fortin is an Edmonton based painter, new media artist and printmaker. Haylee’s practice often addresses themes of isolation and femininity through collage and imagery sourced from online hunting forums. Graduating with distinction from the University of Alberta’s Fine Art program in 2015, Haylee has since pursued an interest in art as a means of community engagement with local artist run centers. Through her position as studio assistant, Haylee supports programming for artists with developmental disabilities at the Nina Haggerty Center as well as courses in print-making at the Society of Northern Alberta Print-artists (SNAP). As the installation artist for the 2016 and 2017 URB PRK concert series, Haylee developed an appreciation for public art through creating weekly public art installations. An appreciation which continues to grow through her position as curatorial assistant with The Works.

[theworksblog]

The Cherry on Top

By: Simon Yee, Production Assistant.

If you were to ask me four years ago, when I was just graduating high school, what I wanted to do in life, I would have no clue. It's amazing to look back and see the process of struggling to find myself to now, graduating from post-secondary. In those four years, I found a passion that I care about, a dream to work towards, an organization that I can dedicate myself to, and the will to constantly improve myself.

What started off as me wanting to design collateral for the festival (digital) turned into a full project to design the table toppers for The Works' 2019 Media Launch (physical). For someone only has experience in graphic design, this project proved to be a major challenge. The hardest part was trying to come up with an idea that satisfied both the theme for the festival and my standards. With the help of Rochelle (Production Supervisor) and Susan (Curatorial Supervisor), I was able to narrow down the design plan for the bases for altered eye-glasses. The next challenge was assembling the bases. Not only did using wood glue to attach the dowels take a long time, but they also came apart with little force. So I switched to finishing nails. The final challenge was designing and decorating the sunglasses. I came up with the idea for 7 of them, but it is thanks to Callum and Taiessa that all 18 were created.

This project was an amazing learning opportunity for me. Not only did I get the chance to fully realize an idea I had, but the objects I designed will also be used for Media Launch. I am excited to see them in action and how people perceive them, but this is only the first step for my journey into the working world. I am going to continue challenging and improving my designs even more.

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About the author: Simon Yee is a graduate from the Digital Media & IT program at Northern Alberta Institute of Technology, specializing primarily in graphic design with web design as a secondary skillset. His graphic design skill consists of Adobe Illustrator, InDesign, brand identity, type design, and illustration while web design skills consists of HTML5, CSS3, JavaScript, UI and UX design. His design illustrations are inspired by elements from animations, movies, live-action shows, and forms of interactive entertainment. He placed 1st in the 2018 SkillsAlberta Provincial Competition for graphic design, and he placed 4th in the 2018 SkillsCanada National Competition. For more of his work, check his website at: skhyee97.wixsite.com/portfolio

[theworksblog]

HEY, do you mind?

By: Taiessa Lund, Production Coordinator.

Image: exercises from Stephanie Medford’s mindful drawing workshop

Last week, Stephanie Medford visited the Works to Work (W2W) team to give an artist talk on her work Drawn In, to be featured on our main site at Capital Plaza this year. She presented a very honest picture of her experience as an emerging artist up until this point, taking extra care not to gloss over hardships but instead reflect upon what she had learned from them. In this, she offered insight on burnout, art as business versus art as practice, practical ways to approach applying for artist residencies, and more. A topic that underlined her talk is mindfulness. About this time last year, feeling overwhelmed in the bustle of my final term at Grant MacEwan University coming to a close, I first met Stephanie after signing up for one of her mindful drawing workshops. Through individual and group exercises, she calmly facilitated workshop attendees to slow down, breathe, and notice. 

Now seated in front of a group of W2W interns, Stephanie related mindfulness to the performative work she will be sharing at the festival. She described the term, as well as the act of shaving wood and drawing (two key elements of her upcoming performance), as both self-soothing and challenging. Granting opportunity to sit with uncomfortable aspects of yourself or your experience, practicing mindfulness can aid in developing deeper self-awareness and acknowledging the moment that you find yourself in.

While it is a practice that can be honed through art-making or other creative pursuits, its benefits can extend even further. Prime opportunity to put this into practice presents itself daily at The Works office. Being a part of the production team, it can be difficult to know what you will be tasked with on any given day: From installing computers in the offices to installing artwork at various downtown locations; painting doors to building plinths; driving cube trucks to lifting steel sculptures, it is likely that you will at some point be confronted with work that you have not done before and maybe are unsure about how to proceed. In moments such as these, and the times when plans seemed concrete yet change anyway, adaptability and willingness to learn is key.

Mindfulness can help to facilitate this. In my experience, I have found that taking a deep breath, acknowledging how I am feeling, and safely proceeding with the uncomfortable task has served me in accomplishing things, with The Works and otherwise, that I simply would not have imagined possible. Thanks to Stephanie for the reminder to slow down and be present, in moments soothing, uncomfortable, and all in between. If you are interested in learning more about her work, practice, and experiences with mindfulness, visit her website http://www.stephmedford.com/

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About the Author: Taiessa Lund is a Grant MacEwan alumni and current BFA student at the University of Alberta with prospects for graduate studies in art therapy. She is a multi-discipline artist, primarily working in drawing and printmaking. Through focusing on widely familiar objects and experiences, her practice centralizes around the ordinary. She seeks to reframe the mundane, spinning fragmented narratives to explore layers of dreaming, memory, nostalgia, and self-awareness. Taiessa has received awards regarding her academic standing, artistic sensibilities and community engagement, and her work can be found in collections belonging to the John L. Harr Library and MacEwan University.

[theworksblog]

Artist Profile: Linda Ozromano

Author: Yang Lim

      Based currently in Edmonton, Linda Ozromano is a self-taught photographer whose artistic sensibility is shaped by a convergence of various interests and experiences that have, in turn, cultivated her interest in other cultures.  This convergence can be summed up by her comment: “My passion for travel as well as community development combined with her curiosity over how art influences our political, social and emotional realities had the biggest impact on my artistic practice.”

      Ozromano has been significantly involved with the local and international community in the areas of public advocacy, human rights, humanitarian aid, and sustainable development.  For example, she has been involved with non-profit organizations for many years.  This included working with organizations such as Operation Groundswell in Toronto and volunteering in Uganda in 2011, followed by a return there in 2014, during which she participated in educational and international initiatives.  Furthermore, she has collaborated with artists on community art projects to address societal issues.

      As such, her photography is shaped significantly by her social conscience as well as her engagement with social and cultural issues.  As Ozromano states, she is attracted to the photographic medium because she can use it as “a tool to see the world,” through which she can uncover “the ordinary and the mundane” as well as the unknown and unfamiliar.  She feels that people do not pay enough attention to the ordinary in urban cities such as Toronto, Montreal, and Vancouver.  Therefore, her depictions of ordinary people and street life aim to humanize its inhabitants and represent them as three-dimensional, complex individuals.  Ozromano hopes that her works will encourage people to recognize and foster mutual connections among each other:

  I think the best moments are the ones that we think are mundane and ordinary. There is a certain beauty in what is usually not exposed or captured. I like to seek for those moments. I also think if we allow ourselves to fully experience emotions in a healthy and open way, we may discover so much of what we didn’t know about ourselves as well as each other - and this is where all the wisdom comes from. 

       The development of her artistic practice begins with Project Maisha, which exemplifies her keen interest in capturing the humanity of people and their respective communities.  While fundraising for her volunteer trip to Uganda in 2011, a friend gave her a piggy-bank that is shaped like an orange elephant and suggested that she name her.  Ozromano decided to name the orange elephant “Maisha” which means “life” in Swahili, and to bring it along on her trip.  Consequently, the elephant became a means for Ozromano to experience and reflect on her journey through different communities, during which she used photography to document the places and people whom she met.  The elephant would often generate curiosity and interest among people and serve as a starting point for generating conversation, particularly among young people.  Ozromano likened her photographing of the elephant to the movie of Amelie, in which the main protagonist Amelie would take photos with a garden gnome—so that it seemed like he was travelling around the world.

      Through this photographic series, Ozromano explores the ways in which storytelling can function as a means to connect people as well as create a sense of home and belonging through the generation of a shared narrative of experience.  The elephant itself could be said to function as a metaphor or focal point for the interpersonal connections among the people.  Furthermore, her photos convey the humanity and individuality of the African kids, which differ significantly from the homogenous images of impoverished and starving African kids that circulate in the mainstream media.   Although poverty and hardship certainly exist in Africa, these are not the only conditions that impact people’s lives there; however, the mainstream media has tended to focus on these characteristics, which has resulted in a reductive representation of the continent that does not adequately reflects the diversity and individuality of its people.  Through Project Maisha, Ozromano challenges and deconstructs that image.

      Her subsequent photographic series reflect a continual interest in Africa and with capturing images of people’s everyday lives.  For example, she depicts images of street life in Memoirs from Istanbul and evocative images of Iceland’s landscape, architecture, and community life in Getting Lost in Iceland.  In Zanzibar Unveiled, she depicts everyday life in Zanzibar, juxtaposed with some scenic imagery.  Through this, Ozromano appears to ask audiences to consider the actual lives of inhabitants beneath the attractive beach, water, and scenery that typically attracts tourists.  Mama Land, East Africa includes posed and candid shots of children and adults.

      Ozromano’s sense of herself as someone with a hyphenated identity also informs her work.  As a Turkish Jew, she is part of a minority population in her home country, so her self-identity is informed by a variety of different layers.  Having immigrated to Canada twelve years ago as an international student, she has made Canada home ever since.  As a result, her interest in home and belonging can be seen in her work, including the photographic series that she exhibited at this year’s The Works Art and Design Festival.  The series Colour of Emotions explores how people wear emotions as masks and, more specifically, how colours can convey or respond to particular emotions as well as how objects may represent certain emotions. 

      In each photo, Ozromano positions herself in the middle by facing the camera and holding a particular object, besides which she has also painted her face a certain colour that acts as a mask.  In one photo, her face is painted green and she is holding her passport, whereas in another her face is painted red and she is holding a National Post issue that has the front-page headline “Vegas Gunman’s Body Found Amid 23 Guns.”  As a result, the photos invite audiences to think about what emotions they associate with certain colours, consider how they feel about her and the objects being portrayed, and assess their own relationship to those very objects.  Indeed, Ozromano’s face mask in each photo appears to function as a metaphor for people’s emotions and the ways in which these can impact on the choices that one makes, whether negatively or positively.

      Reflecting on her artistic practice and relationship with her audience, Ozromano strives to evoke emotional responses from people through her work and to encourage a sense of connection and mutual recognition of each other’s humanity:

  I like to see myself, not only as a photographer, but more so as a visual storyteller and story activist. I certainly like to convey a message: however, I think most importantly it is how my artwork makes the audience feel rather than think or perceive. Feelings like melancholy, nostalgia, grief and longing are not easy to approach but I like to give people space to feel vulnerable and help them see humanity in all the stories I try to depict.

       Currently, Ozromano is working on a documentary series based on her recent photography of her grandmother’s house in Turkey, through which she will explore topics such as her heritage, hyphenated identity, and sense of home and belonging.  To learn more about Ozromano’s art, visit her website at https://www.lindaozromano.com/.

[theworksblog]

(Re)Mapping Alberta Territories: (Re)Claiming Indigenous Space and Agency

Author: Yang Lim

      In the wake of the work accomplished through the Truth and Reconciliation Commission of Canada and subsequently through the National Centre for Truth and Reconciliation in Manitoba, there has been a push at the public and governmental levels to redress the legacy of residential schools upon Canada’s indigenous communities and to advance the process of reconciliation between these communities and the provincial and federal governments.  In relation to this, there has been an increased recognition in the public sphere regarding how Canada’s indigenous communities have had their perspectives and experiences misrepresented or excluded from predominant institutional and media discourses.   As a result, indigenous artists such as Marina Hulzenga are creating artworks that prompt people to reconsider their perspectives and attitudes towards Canada’s indigenous communities.

      Marina Hulzenga’s project Liminal Space (Awasitipahaskan) was on view this past June in Edmonton’s Bleeding Heart Art Space on 118th Avenue, which was advertised as part of The Works Art and Design Festival.  Through this project, Hulzenga disrupts the geographical space and political borders that demarcate Alberta as a province and define it in relation to the Canadian nation-state.  She challenges the public’s understanding of space and borders by highlighting their constructed nature and the ways in which they serve to privilege or exclude particular narratives that are perpetuated about that space.  As she states in the description that accompanies her work, Hulzenga hopes that her work will “widen, stretch, erupt our existing spatial awareness and make room for the re-discovering and re-imagining of our narrative.” 

      Indeed, Hulzenga exposes the biases inherent in “Western” mappings of space as an abstract process as they suppress and erase the presence of the numerous indigenous communities that are a significant part of this province and its history.  Her work reinscribes the presence of the province’s 141 First Nation reserves, all of whose presence has been suppressed and erased in mainstream representations of Alberta’s land.  In doing so, Hulzenga articulates a more complex understanding of Alberta’s geographical space that destabilizes its provincial borders, encourages a more fluid conceptualization of that space, and situates it within the context of indigenous oral narratives and communal memories that give it meaning. 

      The installation itself includes a large map of Alberta hanging on one wall that shows all of the indigenous reservations and settlements with their respective boundaries.  Complimenting this large map are some white rectangular boards that each depict the geographical shape of a specific indigenous community and includes a label that identifies each community’s name with its geographical coordinates.  These boards are arranged in a row and run along the perimeter of two walls close to the baseboard.  The juxtaposition of these two elements—the large map and the indigenous communities that are represented individually on white boards—draw attention to the problematic process of mapping a territory and the ways in which it can privilege a particular perspective upon that space. 

      By drawing attention to these indigenous communities, Hulzenga deconstructs our understanding of Alberta’s map and forces us to consider what maps may not show or emphasize.  Conventional maps of Alberta that people may be accustomed to seeing in sources such as geography textbooks, driver guides, and tourist guides will tend to depict the province’s major roadways and elements related to the land’s physical makeup, such as the water features, elevation levels, and so on.  Indigenous reservations and settlements have not been consistently represented and the political borders that define Alberta as a province take precedence.  As a result, the indigenous communities’ histories are also omitted as they are inherently tied to the land upon which they define their identities.  These omissions are made even more apparent by Hulzenga’s inclusion of a historical map of Alberta in her installation that also do not identify these communities.  In relation to this, the arbitrariness of reservation boundaries is highlighted by Hulzenga’s depiction of the Enoch Cree Nation reserve’s traditional land map alongside the chronological shrinking of their territory. As a result, Hulzenga posits an alternative understanding of space that is more fluid and defined by the cultural communities’ historical boundaries and experiences rather than by the political borders artificially imposed by the Canadian nation-state without acknowledgement or consideration of the historical context that has preceded them.

      Furthermore, these spatial representations of Alberta omit the narratives that give them meaning.  Hulzenga has collected oral narratives about indigenous peoples’ memories of their childhoods growing up and how it is strikingly different from where they live now, which people can listen to by putting on one of the headphone sets, each of which are tied to a small tree.  As a result, this conveys an understanding Alberta’s territory as not only a physical space but also a discursive space that is given meaning through narratives and storytelling.  The individual anecdotes emphasize how the land is not simply a physical, abstract entity but rather something that has cultural, ancestral, and personal significance and that is given meaning through the retelling of stories in the present.  Their stories may convey regret or a sense of loss around the fact that they can never return to the ways things were before in their respective communities.  However, at the same time they convey a sense of humour to emphasize that these communities are living, breathing entities.

      Related to these narratives is Hulzenga’s inclusion of selected drawings from Enoch Cree nation members who have been asked to draw a map of their reserve from memory in one minute.  The drawings range from attempts to create a representation of the reserve that accurately identifies key roads and landmarks to those that are more interested in creating a suggestive rendition of their community that identifies markers of personal significance.  The results of this seemingly simple exercise reveals the complexity of meaning-making that occurs in relation to a geographical space and the fluidity and ambiguity inherent in this process, since one person may derive significant meaning from a particular place whereas another person may not.

      Another element of the exhibit are the aerial photos of Churchill Square and other locations around Edmonton with the tile and gravel components outlined in red.  For Hulzenga, the presence of gravel takes on a cultural meaning as it signals the shift between the border of one territory to another.  These illustrate how the physical materials that make up the land themselves are endowed with meaning, which is something that may not be readily apparent to people.

      The only drawback to this installation is that its format and spatial layout are perhaps limited by the gallery space’s size and shape.  Had there been more room available, it appears that Hulzenga could have spread out the different elements of her installation a bit more so that people could navigate around and view it more easily, such as the white rectangular boards that depicted the specific indigenous communities.  Nevertheless, the impact of Hulzenga’s work will still be felt by the people who have viewed it.

      As a whole, Maria Hulzenga’s exhibition offers an important intervention into the discourse of truth and reconciliation.  The act of mapping is an important part of this dialogue as it is tied to the history of indigenous communities, who have had their traditional lands systematically taken away by the government and reduced to a fraction of its original size on reservations.  As a result, Hulzenga’s work prompts people to become more aware of and acknowledge this history that indigenous communities have experienced and that continue to have lasting effects to the present day.

      A previous version of Maria Hulzenga’s Liminal Spaces had appeared previously at last year’s The Works Art and Design Festival, but with a different spatial arrangement and in a different venue.  For more details about her artistic practice, visit her official website at http://www.marinahulzenga.com.

[theworksblog]

A New Space for Art Discussion

By: Claire Lamb, Production Assistant.

As a member of the production crew for this year’s festival I was prepared for the labour-intensive elements of the job. I knew that the long, odd, and somewhat unpredictable hours in the sun were what I had signed up for and that was what I was excited for. What I had not anticipated however were the personal and genuine interactions with each of the artists that the festival has allowed the opportunity for. I don’t think there is a single intern at the Works who hasn’t had a good individual conversation with at least one of the artists involved.

As a resident of Edmonton for several months out of the year I try to be as involved in the arts community as possible. Attending exhibitions, artist talks and slowly starting to recognize faces among the crowds is what I had become used to. As rewarding as that can be, it’s an entirely different environment for talking about art. Being a part of the Works Team felt like I was suddenly equipped to talk with the artists about the inner-workings and behind the scenes elements of the exhibitions in spaces that I couldn’t before. Especially during the pre-festival set up of the exhibitions on the legislature grounds. Whether it was transporting installation pieces for Kasie Campbell, moving all of Emmanuel Osahor’s plants for In Search of Eden from The Works Office to site or driving Yong Fei Guan’s sculptures across town; we were all physically involved in putting these exhibits together and it was humbling to get that recognition from each of the artists involved.

Even though we are all at different points in our artistic careers, we are all continually learning from each other and it really felt like we were all part of one large team.

About the author: Claire Lamb is a visual arts student, currently in her third year of studies at the Augustana campus of the University of Alberta in Camrose, Alberta. She has been an active participant of the Strathcona County Art scene for the past 5 years and her works have been chosen to be a part of the County’s temporary art collection on two occasions. She was awarded a Fine Arts scholarship for her entrance portfolio into the U of A and a continuing Fine Arts scholarship for her work at the end of her second year in the program. She has a keen interest in the theatre community and hopes to translate her skills as a visual artist to theatre design following her degree.