Meat. Sauce. Deliciousness. Embrace donair culture.

Matt Munn is an unassuming renaissance man. He’s a wildly talented artist, kills it on a skateboard, plays in surfy-fuzz-garage-rock bands and runs a donair review blog called Donair or Die. He might also make tables or something. Donair or Die is the lighthouse Vancouverites didn’t know they needed to help traverse the dark, stormy waters that are Vancouver’s expansive donair scene. We sat down and had one-too-many beers and talked about the origins of the blog, pita pride, naked mountain climbing, why the oilfield inspires the best donair and where the “Gang Related” rating system came from. 

Sad Mag: Who are you and who’s Matt Munnch?

Matt Munnch: My name is Matt Munn and Matt Munch is my Donair connoisseur persona. Donairs: they’re not just a food, it’s a lifestyle.

SM: I feel like you are doing Vancouverites a great service but why did you feel the need to start a donair review blog?

MM: Ah. I guess I’ll tell you. Fuck it. It was actually an idea of mine for a while, like just smoking weed, joking around and eating donairs “Man I should review donairs, hahaha”. Then I did acid with my friend and my girlfriend and we got naked and wore Burger King crowns and climbed to the top of this mountain at Cat Lake. On this journey to find the Burger King we were talking about donair blogs and my friend wanted to start one that’s now the Hotdoglogblog and I was talking about my donair one and we told each other that if we get back to Vancouver we’re doing it. Then I started up [Donair or Die] and helped her start the Hotdoglogblog where she literally scans hot dogs in a scanner.

SM: What makes a donair fully Gang Related?

MM: A gang related donair is a classic, you know what I mean? I don’t want to get into it that much but the Canadian donairs came from Halifax. There’s this place called Canadian Donair, I don’t know if you researched it, they created sweet-sauce which pretty much makes the Canadian donair. This is on the east coast, and you know how Fort McMurray is the capitol of Newfoundland [due to the influx of Newfoundlanders working in the oil patch], so from the east coast–Newfoundland, they moved to Fort McMurray and I think with them came the Lebanese who made all the donairs. I feel like that started the trickle down [of donairs] throughout Canada. They make the classic donair, which is the most gang related donair. Classic flatbread with lamb, lettuce, diced tomatoes, onions and a bunch of fucking sweet sauce. They wrap it up in paper and foil so it catches all the pure donair extract. And yeah, that’s what that is. That’s a gang related donair. 

SM: Do you care to make the distinction between donairs, shawarma and gyros or are they all in the same family?

MM: They’re all in the same family. When I started I thought that they were all different but they’re all the same shit man. It’s just what different countries call them. I called out this one place called “Pizza + Donner” and I was like “what the fuck’s a donner?” and then some one schooled me on it [dons a scholarly accent] actually the Turkish call them “donners”, it’s just Canadians that call them donairs. Shawarma, gyro, it’s whatever the fuck you want to call it. 

Get to know your donair.

SM: There’s a wealth of donair/shawarma/gyro joints in Vancouver. How important do you think they are to the local munch scene?

MM: For the wasted homies on the streets late at night it’s exactly what they need. And I wish there was more to be honest.

SM: If you’re hanging out having a few adult pops, a hunger pang strikes and the pizza place is a few blocks closer than the donair, which do you choose?

MM: Depends what I’m feeling that night, man. For the most part my appetite is pizza, burger donair, donair, burger, pizza. So if I just had pizza for lunch I’ll probably take that few extra steps and make it to that donair joint.

SM: You always give whoever’s behind the counter a solid, not handshake, but handclasp for each review. What does it signify and has anyone ever denied you on it?

MM: No one has ever denied me on it. I can’t wait ‘till someone does so I can flip them the bird behind their back. It’s more of a respect thing. What I don’t like about food blogs I’ve found is that there are no pictures. If they do it’s just of the food. I want it to be more of an experience, what it was like there. “And this is the dude who makes your donair,” and slap him a gang-related five. I can tell you the story of where that handshake originated another time. It has to due with a white Rick James on Bowen Island.

SM: In one of your recent posts you went to Edmonton for the holidays and reviewed a local donair spot. You made a claim that Alberta, overall has a better donair than we have in BC, or Vancouver at least. I have to agree with you; I’m Albertan myself (Lac La Biche represent) and the donairs on the prairies are always top-notch, surpassing anything I’ve had in Vancouver so far. Why do you think that is?

MM: It’s two things, and I cannot stress this enough: the sweet sauce. In Vancouver they do not have the sweet sauce correct and it breaks my heart. I was about to get an extract of the sweet sauce from Edmonton and bring it back to Vancouver tell ‘em to figure out what’s in here because this is fucking sweet sauce. The second reason why Albertan donairs are better than Vancouver or BC’s is because of the mentality: It’s the rig pigs, the big trucks, the bros. They just want a big ass, meaty, goddamn, greasy-ass munch and that’s what sells. In Vancouver it seems like they’re battling to see who can put the most vegetables on it. In Alberta it’s a contest to see how fat and juicy you can get your donair.

SM: Most every donair joint in Vancouver claims to have the best donair in the city, it’s usually emblazoned on their storefront in large letters and varying fonts. Is your endgame to find out which one is telling the truth?

MM: In a way yeah, I’m seeing who’s talking smack and who’s talking some gang related shit. I never really liked Donair. Dude to be honest, I remember going there once wasted and not liking it but then people kept getting at me telling me to review it. Then I eventually went [to Donair Dude] and they were claiming “best donair in BC” blah blah blah. Turns out it was the best. It was so fucking good. It was awesome. Some places claim to have the best donair in the world and you get there and it’s cat shit. What the blog is about is to look out for the homies. I trial and error at these places so you won’t have to waste your time at them.

Check of Matt Muunch’s reviews on his blog and get your donair on ASAP.

 

Peter n' Chris are not to be missed.

Peter n’ Chris shows are not easy to describe to the uninitiated. Peter Carlone and Chris Wilson turn minimalist stage sets into magic school buses filled with epic adventure and riotously silly comedy, using only energetic physical comedy, quick-witted banter, and the power of the human mind. I left their most recent Fringe Festival Show, Peter N’ Chris Explore Their Bodies, feeling like I had just witnessed a transcendent journey, while at the same time laughing my ever-loving ass off. Amazing that it was just two dudes in raggedy housecoats, right? Audiences seem to agree, and the duo piles up Canadian Comedy Awards and Best of Fringe picks like I pile up empty takeout containers.

With their penchant for exploring the outer limits of the creative possibilities of sketch comedy, it’s no wonder Carlone is resurrecting Vancouver’s Sketch Comedy Festival, at Granville Island from Jan. 23-25. The festival gathers together sketch performers from all over Canada and the USA, and also features local luminaries like the hilarious character comedian Andrew Barber, and the improv stars The Sunday Service. It also offers workshops by Chris Wilson, as well as by Mark and Kyle of the Comedy Network show Picnicface. Perhaps best of all, Peter and Chris will debut their new show Peter n’ Chris and the Kinda OK Corral, which promises Western homages, high noon showdowns, and something called “mouth explosions.” Sadmag sat down with the comedians at The Cascade and, while Chris pilfered Peter’s fries, discussed sharing a bed, growing as performers, and of course babes.

Chris Wilson: That waitress is a smoky babe. She provides the smoke.

Sad Mag: So what qualities do you look for in a babe?

CW: Brunettes mostly. Smoky brunettes. Or just attractive women.

SM: Peter, you’re trying to gesture something…What do you look for in a babe?

Peter Carlone: That’s what I was trying to do, secretly gesture under the table. Great question! I have been told that my type is mousy small town angels.

CW: You can stop at mousy and just strike angels.

PC: You can stop eating my fries. Just a small town girl. Hardworking. Real innocent. Achilles heel for me.

CW : And if a girl is at all goofy…I fall in love with them.

PC: If a girl’s more powerful than me I am on board! I will follow them around.

CW : Same here with the power thing. A powerful goofiness.

SM: So how did you guys meet?

CW: I was attracted to Peter’s powerful goofiness. His smoky qualities.

PC: The real answer, not the really silly answer that Chris gave, is that we met at UVic. We were doing the theatre school there in the same classes and we started to fool around a bunch.

CW: Not physically…creatively.

PC : A little bit physically.

CW: Comedy is physical, but not sexual.

PC: And from there we did coffeehouse nights, which are basically glorified adult talent shows, and hosted awards nights and events and just did little bits here and there.

SM: Did you start performing the Peter n’ Chris show at Fringe Festivals?

CW: The first year we took it to Vancouver and Victoria. And our first show in Vic, I remember us almost selling it out the first shot. It went really well because we went to school there and we had all that support. And then we got to Vancouver, when we hadn’t moved there yet.

PC: In the basement of a church.

CW: We were at Pacific Theatre. We opened to seven people: our acting teacher, two friends, a reviewer, and two random old people.

PC: And one of them was the venue manager, who had to be there. And the two old people did not like it.

CW: No, they did not. They fell asleep.

PC: By the end, we had a pretty nice house, and we learned a lot about what works and what doesn’t, namely the critics. A lot of times people say “I never trust the reviews.” I agree you should never read them during your show, but after the show, take a read. That helped me

CW: What hurt the most about the reviews for the first show is that I agreed with everything they were negatively pointing out! I still think about some reviews we’ve had. One was the first sentence of a piece in Monday Magazine in Victoria that said “It starts off painfully. Dreadfully. Slowly.” And she just did three sentences like that.

PC: And it was a three-star review!

CW: And then it went on to say “but then it gets better.” So I was like “We fucked up the beginning. Ok.”

PC: You don’t want to be in the show that gets better.

CW: Another one that goes through my head all the time is that I was handing out flyers at a festival, and a lady said, “Oh, I already saw it” I told her she should see it again. And she said, “Once was enough.” In just the harshest tones.

SM: Do you spend a lot of time together when you’re traveling to different Fringe Fests around the Country?

PC: I would say too much.

CW: But it’s a great time

PC: Every different sleeping arrangement you can think of, we’ve done. Like sleeping in a basement, sleeping on an overturned couch, sleeping in a car.

CW: Same bed.

PC: Same sleeping bag.

CW : Me being in his bachelor apartment. Which is right now.

SM: How are you able to avoid driving each other crazy?

CW: I think in that first year we got on each other’s nerves more than we have since.

Peter n' Christ fight off the dreariness of January.

PC: We were both going through something we both had never been through before, putting ourselves out there for the first time. So everything that went wrong was either my fault or Chris’s fault. I remember saying to Chris that whole first year, “I am never doing this again for sure. That was my first and last fringe, definitely.”

And then by the end it just doesn’t feel so bad. And then the next year it was also really stressful, but then it just gets easier. Once you’ve learned how to climb that one mountain you can climb that mountain again. And I think the same thing happens with Chris and I spending a lot of time together. It’s the same thing as romantic relationships, too. You just get better at spending time with that person. And then you’re also at a place where you are free to tell them if you are annoyed. You can just say, “Go away! I don’t want to talk to you!”

CW: We just became very open with each other in terms of talking out problems. Whereas in that first year, we had the sense that if you’re gonna be in a duo with somebody, you can’t have problems! Every night that first year, we said, “So what do you want to do tonight?” We still hang out all the time, not just for business.

SM: You just hang out for fun.

CW: Just hanging out for fun. Like we used to when we were real tight friends. Hmm, I said that in a weird way.

PC: We are not friends. We are strictly business partners. I am definitely demoting him to business partner after eating all my fries.

SM: Chris, you moved to Toronto a year ago. How are the comedy scenes different in Toronto and Vancouver, in your experience?

CW: There are more shows in Toronto, that’s for sure. That doesn’t mean they’re all well attended, but the ones that are popular are very popular. If you wanted to get up and do a show every single night you could, but I don’t have a lot of interest in doing that. I’ve been seeking out a lot of standup in character shows. There’s more sketch comedy, there’s more of everything, but there are very few improv groups continually doing improv. In Toronto you do shows as an individual.

SM: Are there any comedic styles or acts that you don’t agree on? Things that one of you finds funny and the other doesn’t?

PC: Maybe? I like stuffy British things and absurdity.

CW: And I like those all as well. Peter sends me stuff online all the time and everything he sends me, I have a laugh at. He likes animation a lot, and I like all the same animated shows.

SM: Chris, how will you approach your physicality in sketch comedy workshop?

CW: I think we’re just going to approach it the way Peter and I do I’ll just get everybody to take a common story that we all know, like Aesop’s Fables or The Tortoise and The Hare and tell the story physically and have fun with it. And also playing with cinema. Everything we do is staged cinematically, we always think about it in terms of what the camera is doing. The audience is the camera.

PC: In the same way that a magician’s whole idea is what they have the audience focus on, the comedian’s way is “How do I make the audience focus on something?” Sometimes it comes down to literally telling them, “This is what you’re looking at.”

CW: Everybody knows movies, we all watch them, so if you do it on stage and hint at what you’re going for…

PC: They can do the rest of the math!

The Sketch Comedy Festival runs from Thursday, January 23 to Saturday, January 25, with Peter n’ Chris’ show featured on January 25. Ticket info.

 

TJ Dawes is an average guy. He takes the stage in an unassuming all black outfit, his only prop a water bottle and the only staging some simple lights. He could easily be mistaken for a member of the audience. TJ Dawes is an average guy, which is exactly why his story is so compelling.

The talkback is just the prescription you'll need after this show. Photo courtesy Firehall Arts.

The premise for Medicine, showing at Firehall Arts, is a little strange on first appearance. It involves Dawes’ experience with the psychotropic plant ayahuasca—though it’s no tale of debauchery or youthful exploration (though he does touch on that). It also involves the well-known Vancouver based Dr. Gabor Maté—but this isn’t a story about addiction, and while the title may be Medicine it isn’t really about sickness, at least not an easily identifiable one. At its roots, it’s just a story about an average guy, with maybe some non-average, but also completely understandable problems.

In 85 minutes on the stage, Dawes weaves a tale of introversion, neuroses, and longing. It is clear from the start that while Dawes appears ordinary he has an extraordinary amount of wit, awkward charm, and comedic timing. Medicine contains hilarious insights into the process of growing up—a process that in Dawe’s case, as in many others, spans well past adolescence—but also the stranger things in life, like alphabets and keyboards.

Medicine is captivating the whole way through but really starts to gain momentum around the halfway point when Dawes begins to delve into those things that set him apart. His story is interesting but he knows that it’s just one among many, and while extraordinary in many ways, it’s still one that anyone could relate to. What keeps the whole thing going though is Dawes unwavering candor and lack of pretension. It sounds strange, but Dawes somehow finds a way to turn his extraordinary experiences into the universally relatable moments. He makes his story of a weeklong retreat full of group therapy sessions and nights of hallucinations into something both novel and familiar to the audience all at once. It’s interesting, funny, and perfectly heartbreaking.

Medicine is brilliant for being able to match the form to the content but of course that’s not what makes it hit home; it’s the fact Dawes makes you feel like you share the same story – you just wish you could tell it as well as he does.

N.B. For those who have the opportunity, the talkback session with Dawes and Dr. Gabor Maté is not to be missed.

Medicine is playing at Firehall Arts Centre through January 25. More info regarding tickets and talkback dates can be found here.

You don’t want to get up, it’s warm and soft in your bed and there might even be a cat present. I say lean into it, go comfort! Listen to this mix as your rouse yourself ever so gently to greet the day.

Listen to Pam’s ‘Go With You’ mix.

A maven of music, a food snob and a stick­ler when it comes to good design, those of us who know Pam regard her as a pas­sion­ate per­son for all things cre­ative. Pam received her Bach­e­lor of Fine Arts from Emily Carr Uni­ver­sity of Art& Design in 2006 and her diploma with hon­ours in Illus­tra­tion and Design from Capi­lano University’s IDEA Program.

When Pam isn’t doing her design magic for Sad Mag, she enjoys being a soprano diva in the Kings­gate cho­rus, mak­ing elab­o­rate meals and then eat­ing them, and mak­ing daily playlists for your lis­ten­ing pleasure.

Sad Mag and Rain City Chronicles are teaming up to bring you an evening of storytelling and music on Saturday, February 15th. Join us for Love Hangover, an evening that remembers everything that can go wrong in matters of the heart, at the historic Rickshaw Theatre.

Tickets will be released next week on Eventbrite (and we’ll be offering a special one-year subscription deal with purchase!), but in the meantime please get in touch if you are interested in taking the stage to tell your true tale. We’re looking for storytellers with tales about:

  • Workplace romance disasters
  • Bad breakups
  • Long-distance relationship travails
  • Being the unwilling subject (or author!) of a Missed Connection
  • Disappointments after a much-anticipated first date or first make-out
  • Unrequited crushes

Rain City Chronicles is an event for Vancouverites of all ages, backgrounds, professions and interests. If you have a parent, grandparent, new neighbour or old friend with a great tale, or maybe you have one yourself, send it to us!

The rules, for the Rain City Chronicles newbies:

  • Stories must be true, and they must be yours. No stand-up or in-character performances, and no notes.
  • Stories are seven minutes or less. We will play you off the stage like drunk Cate Blanchett at the Golden Globes if you go too long
  • Stories can be intimate, revealing and cathartic, but not mean-spirited. This isn’t an event to talk about how much you hate your ex. It is an event to talk about how you got stuck in a tiny elevator with her for six hours immediately following your breakup, for example.

Details:

Saturday, February 15th, 2014

The Rickshaw Theatre (254 E Hastings at Main St)

Doors @ 6PM, Show at 7:00PM

Tickets released next week- follow Sad Mag on Twitter and Facebook, or sign up for the Rain City Chronicles Newsletter for more details!

Ranging from Abstraction to Realism, Fiona Ackerman pursues a highly diversified and methodical painting practice.  An inventor of new realities, Ackerman’s work investigates her own painting history, as well as those of others. Experimental yet deeply philosophical, Ackerman’s paintings blur our understandings of reality and challenge how we perceive space.

I first became enamoured with Ackerman’s work after viewing her paintings in person at Winsor Gallery in East Vancouver. I was struck by the playfulness and tender compositional balance, yet I also felt engaged by the complex investigational process employed within the works. An investigator of the artist studio space, Ackerman recently invited me to her studio to do some research of my own. On a sunny fall afternoon at the vast 1000 Parker St. Studios, Ackerman served me mint tea and began my lesson on her world.

JESUS: A SHORT STORY - (Atelier Gregor Hiltner) 2012 - Oil on canvas 91.5m x 111.5cm, 44” x 36” Courtesy of Artist

SAD MAG: What are you currently working on?

FIONA ACKERMAN: I’m creating work for my next show at Winsor Gallery. It’s much like the work I’ve been doing over the past couple of years, which involves investigations into other people’s studio spaces. That’s what all the paintings here are for. I’m reluctant to say whose studio spaces they are, as I haven’t completely rounded out exactly what the exhibit will be. But for example, this long one [Ackerman points out a painting of an abstracted studio space roughly 6ft x 4ft] is for a gallery I work with in Germany and is from the studio space of this printmaker who lives in Berlin named Fritz Mitsaper. As well, this portrait [Ackerman points out a smaller realistic portrait painting] is of him. Some of the other paintings here are from a visit to Laurnence Paul Yuxweleptun’s studio. So I’ll be continuing these types of investigations into studio spaces.

SM: So you’ve been visiting other artist’s studios for a while and continue to do so. What do you achieve through these visits? What’s available at another artists’ studio that may not be available at your own?

FA: Well it started in my own studio a few years ago; I started a project where I was doing all these abstract paintings and I decided to pull out different reoccurring symbols in the paintings and put them on their own sheets. I’d been sitting in my studio with all this work that I’d been staring at for months and months, and I felt tired of looking at it. I didn’t particularly want to talk about it either. I had this big blank wall and I just started to put up all these sheets that I’d collected to just see how they looked. That kind of launched me into this whole idea of painting my environment as I build it, in my studio. So, then I took those sheets and ended up going into this whole series of paintings based on painting those sheets which led me into painting my studio, because I moved away from the wall and looked at the whole environment. Then I really started to use that up a lot, where I felt I was kind of wringing it out where it was saturating itself.

At this point I went to Germany to visit my father who’s also a painter. I visited his studio and took some photos of his space, which grew into more paintings of his space. Then it became an interesting challenge. Going into others spaces, it’s not always obvious what I can bring into their world that is of my world. So I go in and see what I can find, then I bring it back to my studio and work it out and transform it into something of my own.

SM: So the starting point for you with these studio investigations was your own past abstract works. What comes first for you generally? Abstraction or Representation?

FA: It depends on what I’m working on. The next show that I’m putting together, which I’ve already started on, won’t be studio paintings. It will be more abstract. I don’t know exactly what it will look like in the end. But that’s the difference, because it will be a much more abstract approach. It’s all painting. It’s all organizing. It’s all bringing in and putting out. But it exercises two very different ways of painting for me that I think go hand in hand. So, for that process it will be very much just diving in and making critical choices everyday. Whereas with the more representational works, a lot of the decisions are made at the beginning and then they’re tweaked, which comes together as it goes along. So it’s a different process.

SM: Are the abstract works more experimental?

FA: I would say the spontaneity is there right through to the end of the painting. Whereas with the studio paintings, I’m already starting with parameters, which is the interesting point to it for me. It’s almost the limitation that makes the challenge that I’m drawn to. Going in and taking photos and bringing them back and trying to build something familiar to me out of that.

SM: Is there a challenge in balancing these two approaches?

FA: I think they go together in a sense. With the studio paintings I’m using representational environments very abstractly. So rather than laying a canvas on the floor and reaching for blue and green and yellow or whatever I decide to do at that moment I’m reaching into somebody’s room and grabbing for their elements and using them in often very abstract compositions. So for me there’s not a huge difference to these practices. I think they go together. That’s why I’m excited to do two different shows in one year, because I don’t want to do the same thing all the time. So they both offset each other.

TREE OF KNOWLEDGE - 2013 Acrylic and spray paint on canvas, 150cm x 125cm / 59" x 49" Courtesy of Artist

SM: Returning to the self-referential elements of your work, how does this shape your process? For example A Vocation By the Sea is a painting that builds on 4 or 5 other paintings. When did this research into your own painting history become important for you?

FA: I think the more you work the more it’s going to happen and you can either pay attention to it or ignore it. If you decide every single day that you go into your studio that you’re going to do something different than anything you’ve tried before, which I have often tried to do because that’s how you stretch yourself out, you inevitably build up a language that is yours that looks like all these things. So the sum of all these things together is who you are as an artist. You’re constantly referencing yourself whether you want to or not.

With the painting “Vocation By the Sea”, that’s very much doing it on purpose. It’s looking it right in the face. It’s saying, ‘okay what can we do if I just take what I have here and turn it into something?’ Those paintings were also from when I was working in the Downtown Eastside, at Pigeon Park Savings. I did art groups for the Portland Hotel Society and after that worked at Pigeon Park for about five years. After all that, what I took from my experience, or my artistic reaction to working in the Downtown Eastside ended up being “paint what you know”, and I painted other bank tellers. That’s why it turned into “Vocation by the Sea” because it was my studio work life and my day job working at the bank all intermingling into this fantasyland that was that painting.

A VOCATION BY THE SEA – 2011 - Oil & spray paint on canvas - 171.5cm x 228.5cm, 90” x 67.5” Courtesy of Artist

SM: Much of your studio investigation works start with a photograph. How does photography play into your work? What do you achieve through painting that you can’t through photography?

FA: In a painting you can break all the rules of reality. For example in that “Vocation by the Sea” painting, you wouldn’t be able to make an arrangement like that in a photograph. Unless you had some see through strings, or something gimmicky.

SM: What about Photoshop?

FA: Well if you go into Photoshop you’re essentially painting on the computer. I have no problem with that. But I appreciate painting with paint too, so I take it to another step, which I guess is more final for me. It’s the tool I’ve always used.

WHAT HAS ALREADY BEEN SAID IS STILL NOT ENOUGH – (Atelier Gregor Hiltner) 2011 Oil on canvas 165cm x 260cm, 102” x 65 – Courtesy of Artist

SM: When did you really start to identify as a painter?

FA: Probably when I was about 18. My father lives in Germany, and I didn’t know him growing up, and I was invited to go to one of his summer school courses that he teaches. And there my eyes were really opened to painting. He said right at the beginning, “we’re not here to make pictures, we’re here to learn a few fundamental things about painting” and understanding the structures and how to put together a painting really caught my attention. So I came back after that and decided to begin painting. Well it just presented itself. I started treading water and have been doing it ever since.

It takes a long time. It’s like learning an instrument. It takes a long time to get to know yourself or at least get to the point where you can at least play with enough ease that you don’t have to think about it all the time when you’re doing it. I think that’s one of the gifts that my father gave me with these classes. He said, “ten years you have to paint for”. I didn’t even think about having a painting career for years. I just worked my jobs, paid for my supplies, and didn’t worry about where I was getting. When I graduated from art school I just put my head down. I went underground. And I think mentally knowing that I had a journey to go through before I could start to have any semblance of confidence was liberating in a way.

SM: Let’s discuss your philosophical foundations and your interest in Michel Foucault’s writings on heterotopic space. You’ve explained heterotopias as “a place that reflects someplace real but at the same time inverts it or shows it in a completely other way”. How is this philosophical cornerstone impacting your work?

FA: The interest in Foucault actually came after I started doing all these paintings. And probably after I was working on the “Vocation by the Sea” painting.  I just happened to be reading on the Internet and came across someone else’s’ essay about heterotopic space. I had read Foucault in university and had been a fan, but I didn’t know anything about heterotopias or anything he’d written about “Ceci N’est Pas Une Pipe”. Then I read this essay and it just seemed so obvious. I thought, “I don’t even have to write my own artist statement, this is exactly what I’m on about”. It was great. And then that just opened a door. It seemed like everywhere I turned I could relate it to this concept. It’s not limited to that, but it’s one way of describing basically what we do when we write or when we use any part of our life or experience or environment in a new way.

SM: What I find confusing about the concept of heterotopias is how to define what qualifies as one. Foucault provides a lot of descriptions, such as Graveyards and Psych Wards, but I have trouble distinguishing what is or isn’t a heterotopia. Is it a real space that exists outside of mainstream society?

FA: I think the mirror is the closest example because it looks so much like what we do, or what we are. But it’s literally backwards and it’s a space that you know that you can’t go to. It’s reality inverted.

SM: Do you think the studio is a heterotopic space?

FA: It functions on a number of levels. One way to think about it is that the studio is a heterotopia for my work life. The studio is an environment that has all the normal functions of daily work; I show up at nine, I work until 4 or 5, I make coffee, and I break for lunch. But yet, my job is to break all the rules of the convention of the workday. To end up at the end of the day having wrecked what you started is not necessarily a bad day. So it shows all the realities of work, it’s a work environment; it’s my office or studio. But it’s also inverted. What we know is there and the opposite is also present. Then inside my heterotopia studio is the painting which reflects my studio but at the same time reflects it in an inverted or jumbled up or upside down way.

GENERATION – 2011 - Oil & spray paint ON canvas - 180cm x 180cm, 71” x 71” Courtesy of Artist

SM: How do you balance the seriousness of your theoretical foundations with your sense of humour? A lot of your paintings use cheeky titles, such as Fresh Taint. Is humour an important element in your work as well?

FA: Well I’ve never really started with a title and tried to illustrate it with a painting, it’s usually something that happens after. But humor is a way to really boil everything down to its essence. So say with the Foucault idea, it is a big idea. And it was a big idea that I wanted to do my last show on. Because it still made sense to me, it still applied to what I was doing in studios. I wanted to talk about it and open a conversation about it.  But with the next show at Winsor I feel like I’ve gotten to know it really well and I’ve decided, good idea or not, to just boil down the next show and call it “Its Not You It’s Me”. In essence it’s a bit of a punch line, but I go into other peoples studios and turn them into my world, my heterotopia. “Its Not You It’s Me” is the humorous approach to a larger conceptual idea.

SM: When do you know that an idea is complete? At what point do you drop one line of investigation and begin another?

FA: I don’t think I have. With the next show at Winsor, I’m picking up on the last show. That had paintings of my studio and a couple of other artists. Then when I was last in Germany I got to go into some other artists studios. I didn’t have my own proper studio, so my own studio wasn’t necessarily a big part of it. It was more of a traveling expedition through the mirror. The whole idea was being a naive explorer and going into somebody else’s environment and deciding “well in this world they only eat red paint”, or that kind of thing, and recording it in my log and making my own stories about their worlds.

Coming back to Vancouver, I was still really interested in studios. I was a Canadian in Germany asking people “who are the painters here? What are people doing?” And people would ask me “what are people in Canada doing?” I would think; “oh god I have to name names and I don’t know anybody”.  So for me to look at other people’s work here, doing these paintings is the best way for me. It gives me a way to dissect things that I’m interested in, through my own practice. It’s basically just another exploration for me.

SM: So in these explorations you acquire parts of other artists’ worlds, making them yours. Is that what you feel about the final painting? Does it still possess the essence of the other artist?

FA: I’m not sure and I guess that’s why I haven’t shown the work to any of the artists whose studios I visited for this show. There is a sculptor named Alexander Syler in Berlin, and I painted his studio. I showed him some of the work and he said in broken English “oh, I never saw myself that way”. That’s when I realized “That’s because it’s not you its me”. This is my world that I’ve brought you into. So that’s the question; how much is it about you?

Fiona Ackerman’s new exhibit, “Its Not You It’s Me”, will be presented in February 2014 at Winsor Gallery, Vancouver, BC.

The per­ils and mis­ad­ven­tures of online dat­ing.

I get an OKCupid message from someone who is in town visiting family for a few weeks. Even though I know nothing can really happen long-term, I agree to meet him for a coffee. He’s from New York, he’s a photographer-slash-musician, how bad could it be? Even though he’s not the most handsome guy, he’s funny and getting cuter as the date progresses. We decide to go for another drink and end up seeing a movie. We sit in the back row and somewhere after the credits but before the bottom of the popcorn we start making out like teenagers. A middle-aged woman sitting alone two seats away shoots daggers at us.

I know lady, I’ve been there, we’ve all been there. You’re alone and there’s some gouge-your-eyes-out couple making googley eyes at each other and you just want to vomit directly in their faces. As much as I’m sympathetic, I feel the need to seize this spit swapping opportunity.

After the movie, he takes my hand while he walks me home. He seems very comfortable with me for how long we’ve known each other (a whole three hours), but I have to assume it’s because he’s a limited-time offer, right? If we were in NYC he’d probably stress about this small gesture of hand holding instead of flaunting me around the block like he won me at a carnival.

That weekend, he comes over to my place for dinner, but since I’m in a no-cooking phase I suggest BBQ takeout. It’s hard to take dainty bites of something as sloppy as a pulled pork sandwich, but what do I care? This guy will be gone in a week and I have a craving. I devour my sammie in a grotesque five minutes, hardly coming up for air. Somehow I’ve got BBQ sauce on my neck and I’m starting to get the meat sweats. I’m a charmer.

He mentions after we finish our sandwiches that maybe eating them was a mistake because he’s gluten-intolerant. I don’t usually buy the whole “gluten intolerance” thing and I ignore his comment. He holds his shit together (pun intended) and we continue drinking wine and chatting.

He notices my guitar and asks if he can sing me a song. My eyes widen, frightened of what I’m about to hear. He probably has a specific song queued up for this very occasion. God help me if it’s awful, because I know it will show on my face. He begins playing and it’s actually a bit of a downer tune. I’m glad it’s not some schmaltzy love ballad and I’m reluctantly impressed. A sad song is more manipulative though. This guy must get a lot of sympathy action.

After a little making out he insists that I play him a song. I go with the ukulele instead of the guitar and play the only song I know, one I learned at the request of another online dating prospect. Maybe that song will finally do what it was supposed to and get me laid, after which it will become my secret serenading weapon. My performance secures another half hour of making out before we leave for a friend’s party, where we get drunk and handsy before stumbling back to my place.

We proceed to have clumsy sex.

This guy is all over the place in bed. He seems to be speeding through a set routine where only at the end will he get to do what he wants. He’s moving from one part of my body to the next so fast I have to tell him that we’re not under any time restrictions.

He loses his boner. Boners are so fucking sensitive. I’m left unsatisfied. But I can’t say he didn’t try, he was just so…sloppy. And yes, we were drinking, but something about his sweaty, lumbering body really repulsed me. It just wasn’t going
to happen.

We fall asleep, but throughout the night I repeatedly wake up to him apologizing for getting up to go to the washroom.

Finally I get up to use the bathroom myself and as I put my feet on the floor I feel something squishy. It’s the condom. For the record, my trashcan is literally a foot away. As I enter the bathroom I see a balled-up bath towel, sopping wet on the floor, and the remnants of what appears to be an overflowing toilet. Perhaps I was too hasty in disregarding his gluten intolerance. But if you’re on a date, how about not eating something that makes you shit your pants uncontrollably? Or maybe he clogged it from hurling? I’m left to choose from the buffet of gross things that could have happened here. Puzzled still, I go back to bed, teetering on the edge of the mattress so as to not touch him.

I wake up relieved that he isn’t beside me. Did he leave? Am I free to disinfect the bathroom and burn my sheets now? Nope. He’s in my kitchen, helping himself to some coffee after drawing the world’s largest cock on my chalkboard. I laugh at the irony of this massive dick with the memory of his less than stellar performance fresh in my mind. I get into sweatpants and make no effort in my appearance as we sip our coffee in awkward silence.

The next two days he keeps texting me and I reply with short go-nowhere answers while deliberating how to get out of this mess. How am I supposed to explain my hot and cold demeanor when I don’t understand it myself? Sure he was gross, but we’re all gross sometimes. And even though this is what I say in my recurring don’t-be-an-asshole-have-some-sympathy pep talk to myself, I’m still disgusted by the thought of him. And finally I do something that feels completely out of character for me: I lie. I say I don’t want to see him again because he’s leaving soon. He sees through this and pressures me further. I dig myself deeper saying I shouldn’t have slept with him so quickly and I’m not that kind of girl.

At the time I thought this was a lie as well, a way to wriggle out of any real confrontation, but the more I think about it the more I realize it’s all kind of true: the person I am so disgusted by isn’t him at all, it’s me. I thought I wanted a relationship, but I keep setting myself up to fail dating people who are unavailable: geographically, emotionally, gastronomically…

I feel terrible. But then I realize that all the things I was doing to repel him, like not caring about what I ate in front of him and what I looked like, not reaching out to him and keeping my texting brief, were the exact things that kept him interested. I was elusive. Independent. Confident. I was behaving like a guy would, a guy I would be frustrated with and probably attracted to. This is a learning moment cocooned in an awful experience. All of the sudden I feel empowered. This could define all future relationships where I treat men poorly only to leave them wanting more!

Or, I could just find someone nice, who lives in this city and who can handle his pulled pork.

Book Artist Emma Lehto, all photos c/o

Sad Mag writer Grant Hurley first met Emma Lehto in October at the Alcuin Societys biennial Wayzgoose, an event that brings together fine press printers, book artists, bookbinders, typographers and designers to celebrate the beauty of the book. Utterly impressed with her work, Hurley caught up with Lehto a couple months after the event to chat about her artworks and creative process.

Sad Mag: Who are you?
I’m Emma Lehto. I am a book artist. I work predominately with books and typography.

SM: When I first encountered your works at the Wayzgoose, I was really interested in the contrast between your work and that of others at the event. Many of the exhibitors there were working to create new books, whereas your pieces subtract from preexisting books to create something new. Can you describe a few of your artworks and the processes you took to make them?
EL: I was so pleased that the Alcuin Wayzgoose invited me back this year to the exhibition. I was invited the previous year too, and my work was definitely a juxtaposition to the majority of the work exhibited. I think it’s healthy to be able to see contrasting creations/ideas in the similar topics. Everyone can draw from each other’s work, regardless if it’s appreciated or not.

Most of my projects start with a very simple question, “What if I did __________ to a book? What would happen, and what would it look like?” All of my projects stem from my curiosity, and from there I just run with it. I can try to imagine what might happen as a result – but that doesn’t mean it will turn out that way. Assumptions never work.

What can I do without having the book fall apart? How can I alter the book form without removing the familiarity of it?

Detail from Amended, 2010

SM: Where do you begin in your process?
EL: If I have an idea for a book, I’ll test it out first. I usually begin by doing different test/experiments/variations of the same idea on different books. Not all books are made the same, so oftentimes the possibilities are endless, including cutting up pages, removing text (which alters layout of pages), breaking the spine, and folding pages, to name a few. It’s a constant science experiment. I still have one book sitting in a block of ice in my freezer – it’s been there for the past 3 years. Some experiments evidently last longer than others.

I just see it as problem solving, trying to find different solutions. Usually, I end up discovering new ideas this way as well. The story/topic of the book is never the focus: I’m far more interested in the aesthetic of the end result. It’s one big treasure hunt with a few paper cuts along the way.

SM: Can you describe one of your recent projects?
EL: In one of my book artworks, Amended, I started with the question: “What would it look like if I cut out all of the words from a book and then put all of the words in alphabetical order?” I really thought I would end up with 26 pages of words and two cut up books. Was I ever wrong. I had more questions than I did answers. I had 48 pages of words, and almost 2 pages each of the words “and” & “the” and a blank page for the letter x. (There weren’t any words that started with the letter x in this book).

During my time working on Amended, the process was very surreal as the words took new form. Seeing the words taken out of context and placed in alphabetical order, the individual meanings of the words were eliminated. I had removed the original intention of the purpose of the words. They were now isolated from the story.

However, on the flip side of this, the book was still intact, and everything was there except the text. The majority of the anatomy of the book was untouched: the binding, the pages, and front and back cover. The layouts of each page were present. You could tell when there was a beginning of a new paragraph, where the page numbers were, and most of the punctuation was left. By maintaining the anatomy of the books it kept the familiarity of what makes a book a book. Also by leaving those elements intact, it allows for a “safer” environment for an audience to approach the work and engage with it.

Detail from Pink & Gold, 2013

SM: One of the most memorable pieces of yours for me is the edition of War and Peace that you shot through with a gun. What was its genesis?
EL: It was a very basic “What would happen if I… Shot some books? Which came from the idea that “a telephone book can stop a bullet.” I thought, would it? How do I know a telephone book can do that? I’ve never seen it, just heard about it.

I had some books of folded up paper, twisted, and tied up. I just wanted to see what it would look like. As a result, some bullets lodged in the spine and it was interesting to see the paper that was folded suddenly juxtaposed with a path piercing right through it. You can see the entry of the bullet, and the direction of the bullet.

The books I chose to shoot were romance novels. There seems to be an abundance of them everywhere at any given moment. These books are cheaply made, thick, cheap and if I needed more of them I wouldn’t be scrambling to find them.

SM: It seems like you’re interested in some of the tactile aspects of books; I find your work really encourages an audience to note the physical nature of books before their content. What are some other projects that you’ve completed that contrast this approach?
EL: I had a book sitting in Coca Cola for over a few months (similar to the tooth sitting in Coke test) wondering would the book disintegrate? Well, not exactly. It turned into a sponge there wasn’t any liquid left after a few months and the book is now green and fuzzy.

Detail from Fields of 13, 2009

Another book is sitting in hair relaxer. The book looks like it’s turned a few shades darker, the relaxer looks like it hasn’t changed since.

SM: Almost the opposite of something I’d like to hold in my hands! Any future projects planned?
EL: I always seem to have a few ideas brewing in my head. It’s just a matter of which idea to pick while its still fresh in my mind. Currently, I’ve been quite fascinated with paper construction and different layouts of text and mostly playing with the idea of introducing negative space into the book form without losing the familiarity or readability of it. If anything, I’m really looking forward just to where these ideas go and how I can play around with them.

***

Check out Emma’s work in the Mezzanine Gallery of the Queen Elizabeth Theatre until January 19 as part of the group show Final Project. Also featuring the work of Kat Cortes, Tara Hach, Talent Pun, Carlo Sayo. 

Blim Holiday Market and Event Space

Lauded as the best “low profile event space” by Vancouver Magazine, Blim is a community-based arts and crafts facility where people of all levels of craft prowess can try their hand at screen printing and button-making, they might book time in the Blim Open Studio, or else be inspired by a gallery of indie artists’ works. 

Those who got a chance to check out the Blim Holiday Market Centre on the 14th of December experienced a taste of the eclectic Blim style via 50 hand-selected indie vendors with handcrafted goods and art objects. If you missed it, be assured there will be many opportunities to take advantage of Blim’s resources in the new year … including getting your hands on a cat onesie. Sad Mag’s “craft correspondent” Kait Fowlie chatted with Blim director Yuriko Iga to find out what’s in store.

Sad Mag: Who comes to Blim?
Yuriko Iga: The nice thing about Blim is that it is open to whoever is open to Blim. I like that our clientele is equally male and female. For a craft facility, it is sometimes hard to break the gender barrier, but I feel we have succeeded in that arena. We have clients from age 5 up to 75. Older people like to shop here because it reminds them of how they used to dress and how fun it was, and younger people like to shop here because they think that indie retro is cool.

We also have a clientele with diverse economic backgrounds. I am flattered when celebrities come in and are excited to find such a unique shop.  As well, I am flattered that residents of the downtown eastside feel comfortable enough to come in and shop as well. We try our best to keep things affordable [so that] a wide range of people [can] enjoy our products. Even thought our roots are as an experimental venue for arts and music, we now have people from all walks of life taking the workshops. Creativity is for everyone!

SM: How and when was the concept for Blim thought up?
YI: When I was 4, I had a really vivid imagination. I got upset every time I dropped my stuffed animals because I thought they were real and would get hurt. So I created this imaginary animal kingdom called Blim Blim. I would go through this intense ritual of Blimatization to immunize all my animals from pain and suffering. Together, we lived in the land of Blim Blim. In order to be Blimatized, they needed to be given a Blim name, so all the animals had a first and last name. Some of the names included Sachan Bgwier, Snoopy Liachin, and Bigew Sanchez.

SM: Your ‘About’ page says you believe that “creative expression is a hallmark of health, both on an individual and societal level.” Can you elaborate on that? 
YI: I believe that if all people practise creativity, it makes us happier and healthier. I believe that art practise should be part of preventative healthcare for mental and physical health. [Art] is a natural part of human behaviour that should be encouraged and practised regularly.

SM: What kinds of holiday gifts have been hot at Blim this year?
YI: Anything with cats and people [have been] making personal prints in the workshop to give to friends.

SM: What are your plans for Blim in the new year?
YI: We will be launching the new instructional video for the level 1 workshop, a project I worked on with a video group from Barcelona called Miniature Films. On January 4, 2014 at the first level 1 workshop of the year. This special video will only be available to those who take the introductory workshop.

…Blim is also launching a new line of adult onesies. Info TBA… (!)

On a crisp and sunny Sunday afternoon, I sat down with Anthony Casey and Shayan Naziripour. We talked about their drag alter egos, Shanda Leer and Veronica Vamp. They were gearing up for the Sad Mag Madonna Tribute at The Cobalt. We talked about the challenges of being a man in a dress and how one gets there, as well as the evolution of performance personas, and the queer camaraderie of The Cobalt.

If you’re looking to see the ladies on stage, Shanda Leer will be at Oasis for Jerk It! on December 20th. If you’re keen to see Veronica Vamp…well, patience is a virtue! I can assure you—she’s well worth the wait!

Sad Mag: Who are you?

Veronica Vamp is always serving up the best drag.

Shanda Leer: I am Shanda Leer, your tipsy aunt at a wedding. That’s my self-appointed title.

Veronic Vamp: Very nice. Very nice indeed. I am Veronica Vamp, lady of the night, mistress, working girl. All of the above.

SM: How did you get into drag? How did it become a thing that you do?

VV: I’m the newbie here. I started doing cosplay—that’s how I got into drag. I really enjoy anime characters and the ones I really like are the strong ladies. So I started cosplaying them. I started out with Faye Valentine from Cowboy BeBop—that was my first cosplay. I also Love Sailor Mercury from Sailor Moon. She loves romance novels, she’s got blue hair…dirty romance novels and who doesn’t love blue hair?

SL: I started at the Cobalt as a dare from Peach Cobblah. It was the Pride Ball in 2012. I had hinted at it for a while. But there’s some exposition to this and I’ll keep it short: I’m from Nova Scotia. Growing up there, I think I was 19 and I went to my first gay bar, by myself, I had no idea what I was doing. I went to this place; I think it was called Vortex. I was there and I was terrified and there were these three old queens who just kind of descended on me. They were chatting with me and asking me all of these questions. I was still doing that thing where I was saying, “Oh yah, I’m kind of gay but not really, hahaha.” I was young, what’re you gonna do? At the end of the conversation, one of them said, “Are we the first drag queens you’ve ever met?” and I said yes. They asked me if I thought I’d like to do drag sometime and I said, “Oh, I don’t think so.” And one of them leaned over, right in my face and said, “Listen, honey, when you do drag—and you will do drag—use the name Shanda Leer and don’t forget it.” And so I’ve always had this amazing drag name that I’m in love with and I told Peach that story and she said, “Just get on stage at the Pride Ball.” And I did. And, actually, a couple of weeks ago we were talking about when I’d started and she said, “You know, I honestly thought it was just going to be a one time thing. I thought it was just going to be a joke. And look at you now.” I’ve blossomed!

SM: That is an awesome story! Tell me about the Madonna Tribute show.

SL: Miss Vamp here was co-hosting.

VV: I co-hosted with Isolde N. Barron. She’s lovely, she’s always hilarious.

SL: She-larious!

VV: Oh, I love puns! Well, the night was a competition with a bunch of other queens. Shanda Leer included. I co-hosted, held the trophy, and made sure those queens worked for it!

SL: I’m excited because, you know, most gay men, they love Madonna. At least one song, if not completely. In the last Sad Mag show, the Mariah tribute, I think I was the only one who genuinely liked Mariah.

VV: I won!

SL: She won.  Whatever! That’s cause you stripped off on stage!

VV:  That’s cause I was a dirty, dirty whore! (laughs)

SL: I try to keep Mimi classy, but whatever. I was excited for this one because it was  fun to do a Madonna number. Normally, Shanda’s whole thing is kind of campy and silly, lots of Broadway. You know, the classic old lady standards. So when I have the chance to do a full-on Madonna number with dancing and everything…I’m excited!

SM: What do you find to be the most challenging aspect of doing drag?

SL: What’s RuPaul’s favourite quote? It takes a lot of balls to put on a dress and walk out the door. Right? So having the drive to do drag in general, you’re tapping into something that’s already, sort of, intrinsic to your personality. I don’t know. What are the difficulties? Starting off, doing my own make-up—that was hard. Finding clothes.

Shanda Leer—classy and sassy.

VV: Especially for a man’s body.

SL: Exactly! That fit a man’s…generous body. Actually leaving the house and confidently.

VV: Oh yes, that’s the hardest part I think. Scaring people. Terrifying children.

SL: I think another, I guess, difficulty, is people…I don’t want to say taking it seriously because, in the end, it’s a fun drag show to have fun. But, I don’t want it to be some novelty, like people just truck us out every weekend so they can watch the cute ladies put on a show. I see a lot of history behind drag so I always want to represent that. I think that’s a bit of a challenge these days, even once you’ve worked up the balls to walk out the door.

SM: Kudos to that! How long have you been performing for?

VV: I first started at the Cobalt in 2012. I failed miserably. Ok, I didn’t fail miserably. I got to the second round.

SL: Second round’s great! When did I start? Oh right, Pride Ball, 2012.

SM: So you’re both fairly new to this. Tell me about a favourite performance.

SL: I’m a huge ham so I love all of them. Some go better than others. My favourite one…I don’t know. I love any time I get to do a Barbara Streisand number. The most recent one was at Jerk It last weekend at Oasis. “Don’t Rain on my Parade” is my favourite one to do. Of course—every girl loves Funny Girl.

VV: Any one where I get an injury of some sort. If I’m wondering where that bruise came from the morning after, that was a good night. My favourite performance…I would say I don’t really have one. Any time when I can shake my pussy in front of a crowded stage is great!

SM: Have you ever had a major stage disaster where something goes really wrong?

VV: Like when you fuck up a lip synch?

SL: Oh yah. It always happens. I did a show one time and my CD was misplaced. I didn’t know what to do but I had kind of a back-up track so I said I could do that one instead. But I didn’t really remember all of the words and I didn’t have the proper clothes to go with it. You just gotta roll with it. Shit can go wrong at any time. Thankfully, I haven’t fallen. And my dress hasn’t fallen off…oh wait. No. I play in Out for Kicks, which is a queer soccer league, and at the awards ceremony that we have at the end of every season, they asked me to perform, so I did. I had this really cute floral romper as my costume, except I hadn’t tried it on in a really long time and I don’t know if I just grew or if my boobs got bigger but it kept falling down.

VV: You were growing into your womanhood!

SL: I was blossoming! On stage! My nipples kept showing so I finally just yanked it down and did a topless performance. It was so tight that I couldn’t wear bra so in the end I had this really crazy, genderfuck thing going on. They loved it!

VV: Yah, you make it work!

SL: You gotta keep it real.

SM: Do you have any goals for your performance?

VV: Fame! I want my pussy to be on every cover!

S:L Money! No, seriously. For each performance? I just want people to enjoy themselves and to think that I’m the best queen they’ve ever seen.  That’s it—it’s as simple as that.

VV: Ditto! I think the goal is just to make people happy. I love to entertain people.

SM: Do you find that different audiences attend different shows?

VV: I don’t remember their faces by the end of the night….

SL: The last couple of months, I’ve been really lucky and I’ve been booked a lot. And I’ve noticed that the crowds definitely change depending on the party but, in the end, they know what they’re in for. The Oasis has been the most interesting, especially for Jerk It on Fridays. Cause Friday’s a hard night on Davie St.—there’s a lot going on. So some nights, the crowds have come in and it’s been a lot of familiar faces, which has been super nice. Other nights, it’s been different people, which is also exciting because then it’s a different crowd to perform for. But, occasionally you’ll get people coming in and they think they know what a drag show is but they’re still not really quite sure what to expect and then it’s funny to see their reactions. And it changes on a weekly basis too. But if you go to the Cobalt, girl, that’s family!

SM: Do you ever find that your performances create tension for your personal life? Or is there a disconnect?

VV: I don’t feel that, no.

SL: Well, you’re not Veronica all the time.

VV: True. I’m more mean when I’m in drag. All that make-up…it just brings the bitch in me. I’ve definitely noticed that. But I’m the sweetest bitch you’ll ever meet.

SL: I’ve heard that before! Shanda for me is very much a character and I think that, in my personal life, Anthony is….well, I think I’m more introverted than I give myself credit for. A great night in for me is being completely alone and not texting or calling anybody and watching Dr. Who. And eating pizza. But Shanda—she works the room. She’s kind of maternal, makes sure everyone has a good time. She’s got time for everybody and I enjoy that because I get to meet people. But if it’s me at a club, I am not going to go around and say hi to everybody and see how their night is going. I’m there to just enjoy myself and my friends. And even then, I’ll probably stay for 10 minutes and then leave because…girl’s tired!

SM: Have you found that your drag personas have evolved as you’ve been performing?

SL: Oh yah, definitely. She’s a little more busted and drunk than she first started off but now I think, any transformative thing that you do, has to always be in flux because you’re not going to settle on it right away. And it’s bringing out parts of me that I kind of knew where there but had never really tapped into so watching that evolve has been interesting. And now I think she’s a bit more of a lady, definitely still the tipsy aunt though. She’ll crack the weird jokes. She’ll think she’s the best dancer in the world and really, she’s just doing the cabbage patch. Poorly.  I’ve seen it evolve and I want to keep seeing it evolve.

VV: I do feel like I’ve progressed and I feel like I’ve gone from, “Oooh, that’s a man!” to “That’s a…man??” So that’s my journey so far and I’m still developing the character. I’m a graphic designer, that’s my day job, so what I really love to do is create characters, drawing them. And I feel like Veronica is my cartoon character—all myself, but just drawn with huge hair and big-ass lips, lots of eyes, lots of lashes. An extreme character. Drag queens feel a bit like cartoon characters—fun and out there. I’m slowly getting better at drawing her. At first, it was just like crayon and not really colouring between the lines. But you get better and you, maybe, use a different brush or something. Or you actually find the right colour. More is more, more is better. Slap on some glitter. I learned about glue and then glitter on top—it solves everything.

SM: What’s next for you both?

VV: Shanda’s the more professional one. I only perform every once in while—the lady doesn’t come out that often. So what’s next is…?

SL: Do you want to perform more?

VV: I do want to perform more, eventually. But it’s a lot of money!

SL: Yes, it’s expensive. On average, I’m probably on stage twice a month. This weekend, I haven’t done any shows. But on the last 5 weekends, I’ve had one or two. And it’s been really great because I love performing! I did musical theatre when I was younger. Shanda’s not going to make it to Broadway but if I can still entertain people, then that’s great. There are some shows of my own that I’d like to do. I would love to do some live singing because I’m not the best but I can carry a tune. And, to bring it down, I’d like to do some kind of history project. Peach and Isolde have this amazing show called Tucked and Plucked and I love what they do. They interview queens from Vancouver and get the history of drag in Vancouver. I like that too but I also like that drag has been a really strong piece of queer history. I feel like I kind of want to educate people on that. RuPaul’s Drag Race has been amazing and I’ve seen every season and I own every season to date but sometimes I almost feel like it’s diluting the whole legacy that drag has. It’s great that it brings it to the mainstream so more people know who drag queens are. But, you know, there have only been a few on the show who have actually talked about and appreciated the history. Jinx Monsoon being one of them, she’s everybody’s favourite right now. I love her to bits. So there are a lot of things! There are a lot of Christmas shows that are happening in the next month. There’s going to be Jerk It on Dec. 20th at Oasis, which will be Christmas themed. I think January’s going to be a time where I figure out what I want to do for 2014. 2013 was the year where Shanda realized who she was. 2014 is what am I going to do with this?