Sad Mag loves Top Less. Getting to know the seven-piece Vancouver-based band for our “Glamour” issue (#11), for which they graced the cover in sparkle-tie dye glory, it’s been a joy watching them grow and evolve ever since. Herewith, a little insight and a little excitement from Mike Shindler, Top Less’s vocalist and guitarist. NEW ABLUM! NEW SHOWS!
Sad Mag: Who are you?
Mike Shindler: Mike from Top Less
SM: How did you get involved in the music scene in Vancouver?
MS: I started making hot beats with my friend Donne (Top Less). Also hanging out with some of the Vancouver music crowd through our friends Hey Ocean. They intro’d us to Shad and Dan and some other sweet folks.
SM: What was the first musical performance that you felt proud of?
MS: When we opened for Natalie Portman’s Shaved Head at Media Club. It was such a sweaty little party but it was incredibly fun. We ended up becoming really good friends with that NPSH after this gig and remain really close. They’re amazing people.
SM: What do you think the music scene in Vancouver is lacking?
MS: Venues!!! We had one perfect venue, Richards, and then it was torn down for condos. We need more venues. More small venues for small acts to play in, more of a focus on indie music, art music, and less liquor laws. Everything will be alright Vancouver if we relax some of these anti party laws.
SM: Favourite Vancouver musicians?
MS: Shad, Hannah Epperson, Dave Vertesi, We are the City, Hey Ocean, Humans
SM: Favourite musical genre?
MS: Dancey Pop right now.
SM: Best Vancouver venue/night for seeing said genre?
MS: I guess Biltmore always has pretty good music but it’s slim pickings out there for venues in this city. Celebrities is great.
SM: Where are you as you answer these questions?
MS: In my office—fully clothed.
SM: Last album you listened to?
MS: I’m super behind the times but the last album I listened to on my phone was Penguin Prison… the last album I listened to on vinyl was Black Star.
We’ve all been anxious. First days of school, facing a fear, making a mistake at work; there are many situations where that unmistakable feeling sets in. AnxietyBC is looking for these stories.
For their 2013 Writing and Video Contest, AnxietyBC is seeking creative interpretations about experiences with anxiety from isolation and uncertainty, to dealing with stigma and the distinct impact of anxiety during youth and young adulthood.
Whether it’s your story, a friend’s story, or something you just want to explore, AnxietyBC encourages you to submit your fiction or non-fiction writing, poetry, or video piece to their BC-wide contest.
There are some pretty nifty prizes and experiences up for grabs too. Winners will receive cash prizes, have their entry posted on AnxietyBC’s website as well as the Georgia Straight blog website, and be invited to a meet and greet with the contest’s judges to hail from diverse sectors including writing, publishing, directing, and more.
Submissions are accepted until October 29, 2013 and more details, including submission specifics, can be found online.
Use your words and video to share a story and help end the stigma around anxiety.
Angela Fama is all about sharing with sincerity. The Vancouver-based artist, who specializes in photography, is interested in breaking down the walls of ego between people. Drawing attention to the relationship between our “online image” and our honest image, Fama’s work explores vulnerability as a strength.
… she even wants you to read her preteen poetry. Her current in-the-works project, Wabisabi Butterfly, is a book of unedited journals from her youth. Stay tuned for her cross-America RV tour / DIY book launch next fall, where she will promote her bold new project. I met with the gutsy and multi-talented artist at Coco Et Olive on Main to talk photography, being in the moment, and feeling it in your toes.
Sad Mag: Who are you?
Angela Fama: I am Angela Fama. Artist. Photographer. Life Enthusiast.
SM: How are you?
AF: Good! I think the universal answer for how are you used to be used to be “really tired,” now its “really busy.” I’m really busy, but I’m satisfied.
SM: We have similar tattoos! What does yours mean?
AF: It means Wabisabi. Wabisabi is, for example, artwork that becomes more valuable when it becomes imperfect. Like clay pots, if one of them one cracks in the kiln, it takes a new form and becomes something entirely new. We always aim for perfection, but that’s not what life is all about. I like the imperfect circle on my arm as a reminder that. Wabisabi is also the name of the book I’m working on.
SM: Are you a writer?
AF: I never actually considered that I’m a writer. Wabisabi Butterfly is straight up, transcribed journals from age 15 to the present. Sharing is the intention of the book. I just want to puke out what’s truthful and whoever can relate, relates. It’s about sharing, not selfishness.
SM: Are you publishing it yourself?
AF: I’m not sure if I’m publishing it myself. It includes some pretty touchy subject matter, so I might go with an American publisher. I’ve had some interest [from publishers] but I want to complete the transcribing before I make any concrete decisions on the exact route—I only want for it to be the true transcribed journals, no changing or editing. My truth, straight up.
SM: Bad teenage poetry and everything?
AF: There’s a lot of really bad poetry. I had to stop at 18—I was like, I can’t read anymore of this. But I reached a point where I’m starting to say things like “maybe it’s better to speak clearly?” And it’s true—people get lost behind really complicated language. I started to be like, I don’t even understand this—how many different ways can you try to say one thing?
In Elizabeth Gilbert’s Ted Talk she references one female poet, Ruth Stone, who explains how a poem “passes through her.” Creativity doesn’t come from any one person. You’re collaborating with energy. It’s not about me gaining, it’s just about giving.
SM: Will there be a book tour?
AF:Next fall I’m going in an RV by myself across America. A few friends will join me. I have different spots to hit on the way for book talks in little places, so hopefully it’ll be a book launch. Maybe I’ll start a blog. I have 23 more journals to transcribe yet though.
SM: Will the book include your photos?
AF: I’m not sure yet, I’m pretty sure it will.
SM: Tell me about MIRRORFACE, your portrait series.
MIRRORFACEwas my portrait project. After MIRRORFACE is Profileface. MIRRORFACE was more about the internal ego. When people showed up [to my photobooth] I didn’t tell them what we’d be doing. They were alone in the room when they gave their expression to the camera. There are two pictures—one picture that looks like passport, I just said here’s a mirror, I’m going to play your music, get ready to go, just like a daily thing where you’re getting dressed. Everyone gave a similar look. It’s very different from the look people give when they know they’re being seen. And then I asked them to give the face that was pure ego—their online image. I asked them to create that image.
SM: Tell me about your project with The Acorn and Capture Photography Festival for Car Free Day.
I set up a pop-up studio in the vintage Boler on the street at Car Free Day and I photographed over 90 people that day. They all signed the release, left their shoes at the door, and they came into the bowler. It was so peaceful inside. We had a bit of a discussion, then I asked them “how are you?” and took their photo.
When people are walking down the street, their eyes are open but they may as well be closed. They don’t really see anything. Car Free Day was crazy because there was so much energy on the street. I wanted to try to break down the walls. I asked people to be with me in that space, and I just asked them “how are you?” Some of them probably had their answer prepared, but I wanted them to look inside themselves and give me the real answer. I got as many responses as there were people. Some people couldn’t break down that ego, but every person made it one step further than they set out to, that day. I could tell everyone was really present and wanting to shift. It was actually taxing for me because if I wasn’t present, it would have fallen apart. It was the first project in my life where I felt like I used every one of my skills.
[The project is] a direct conversation with Foncie Pulice, who did street photography in Vancouver in the 60s and 70s. He would photograph people walking down the street—70s cameras were crazy—he would draw everyone’s attention. Pulice photographed people doing pure ego face.
SM:You were in a car accident a few years ago.How did your car accident affect your outlook on life?
It was terrifying and enlightening. Now, I feel like I’ve been given this gift—I found something inside of me that was a lot happier than what I thought. I found this white light in me. After daily life started weighing on me again, I decided to find that place again; it is about being true to yourself at the heart.
The only way to be true to yourself is to put yourself first—it sounds so selfish, but there’s no need to try and force anything—life doesn’t need to be hard. Do what you want to do, because you’re going to die, really soon—this is it for this round! Death helped me learn that ego was keeping me from myself. The more ego I had, the less life I had. Humbleness and confidence is much more helpful without something you get—vulnerability is the greatest strength you can have.
SM: What kind of commercial work did you do before you started focusing on your art?
AF: Mostly for magazines. I work for magazines still, I like taking portraits, doing fashion when it’s fun. I worked for commercial ad agencies, where my job would have been clicking the shutter, and I just learned that’s not from me. I come from a punk rock background. I don’t shoot 14 year old girls, I get uncomfortable with that. I don’t shoot things that I want the world to have any more of—being part of my own demon isn’t something I wanted to do. I work for local designers. I don’t care about the lack of money. Art is my first and foremost. Drawing is my hidden talent. It makes me happy.
I grew up on welfare, I didn’t know you could make a living with art. Then I was like photography, cool, it’s easy! I can do that, I can talk to people! I thought I had to be a commercial photographer to succeed and I did pretty well. Then I had the car accident, and it sort of didn’t feel quite right anymore. It took a few years to fully understand that just because I can doesn’t mean I should.
SM: Any advice for aspiring photographers?
AF: If you can, spend a lot of time asking yourself why you’re doing it, and make sure the answer is for yourself. If there’s no one else doing what you’re doing, that means you’re probably doing the right thing. If it’s scary, go do it. The more scary it is, the more fucking right it is. Trust your instinct.
SM: What are your favourite strategies for getting present?
AF: I meditate. I focus on breathing. It’s more like paying attention to senses. For example, the way my feet feel right now, that voice beside us, feeling the air of that fan on my back right now. A friend of mine told me that if you think about two of your senses at the same time, you knock yourself back into the present when you’re too in your head.
SM: You’ve referenced feet a couple times. What’s with you and feet?
AF: So many people live in their heads—but you’ve got this crazy body! But how often do you touch your toes? Living in your head and getting caught in your thoughts has nothing to do with what you’re actually doing. Really, sweeping the floor is as awesome as having an awesome dinner or having sex. We label feelings shitty or good. Erase the “good” and the “bad.” It’s only our thoughts that make them that way.
I’m starting to sound cheesy, but this is what I think. When you clear out all our ideas, you feel really awesome. George Harrison says it’s like getting high. I think white light is inside all of us.
Check out Angela’s project, How are you? at the Capture Photography Festival, The Museum of Vancouver, (1100 Chestnut St.) opening Tuesday, Oct. 1.
It’s been a couple of weeks now since I saw the riveting performances of those who participated in Jen Crothers and Kristina Lemieux’sQueer Arts Festival production, Reflection/Refraction. Before the night of the performance, I knew the production’s format but I didn’t really know what to expect: the individual performance pieces were to be completely subjective interpretations and responses to one of five short queer films assigned to each performer. These short films whimsically or charismatically provoked a number of ideas and issues associated with identity, gender, sexuality, intimacy and community. The films included galactic docking, “Miss Chief” dancing, choreographed “brother-herrd,” bus passing and Hawker anime. The performers, having had several months to reflect upon their personal responses to the short films, were to share their reflective and refracted pieces with the audience.
The first piece was performed by the enthusiastic Ralph Escamillian, who started the show off with a baring it all reverse strip tease, which he described as being his response to the “stereotypes of homosexuality” after refracting his assigned short film, Galactic Docking Company. The disco pop track “The Beat” got the audience in the mood and Escamillian’s energetically sensual display of layering clothes made me feel that this was now a revolutionary disco docking celebration.
“There’s more between the earth and sky than we can understand,” Mette Bach repeatedly projected. Bach was assigned the short film Dance to Miss Chief which directed her, surprisingly she admitted, towards a desire to dance that has been something she has struggled with since losing a loved one. Bach embraced her response to her assigned short film and gave a moving, insightful and honest speech about her loss. Having lost my Mother recently, Bach’s monologue reminded me that losing someone does produce a period of grievance but can also produce beautiful art by which we can celebrate and still dance with Miss Chief.
The third performance swayed me back into dance mode when Tran APus Rex appeared on stage. Responding to the assigned short film Herr, Tran APus Rex put identity, gender and sexuality back on the interrogation table by playing around with pieces of clothing, strip teasing and jumping out of a giant blue vagina. Tran APus Rex’s performance piece, much like Herr, made me wonder about this performer’s identity but care less as to what that meant to me and care more for what that meant to the individual. It was a lovely display of gender and sexual interaction, and I felt that Tran APus Rex had self-birthed into herr own.
The Bus Pass evoked a musical response in rising star, cellist Cris Derksen, who took the short film and reworked the scenes whilst creating an original electronically fused performance piece accompanied by her cello. Derksen told the audience she felt some awkwardness in the film that she wanted to work out. The intensity of Derksen’s music amplified the room in such a way that made me feel those thoughts circulating and consuming the film actor’s mind. I felt a tension in the performance piece much the same way that I did when watching the film and in both, that tension had been resolved.
Last, but not least, came David C. Jones’s fishing fiasco. Jones’s performance was a response to the short film, an animation titled The Hawker. Jones focused on themes of love and loss and was inspired by the fish in the film to tell a story as a person at sea through a physical mime piece. I watched Jones’s character spread ashes into a sea of water and cope with what felt like feelings of estrangement and a restructuring of identity. Without dialogue and scene structure it felt difficult to know precisely what was happening but that was the magic of this performance for me – that in losing someone you might often feel lost and struggle with knowing the way or with knowing how to deal with your emotions and loved ones. The grieving period of loss is different for everyone and I felt that Jones was successful in displaying a subjective and natural response to self-identity, loss and grief.
It was a pleasure to watch the queer short films and witness the emotions, responses and inspiration evoked in these five performances. A good life involves reflection but a great life is formed through refraction.
Sara French received her Masters of Applied Arts from Emily Carr University of Art and Design in 2011 after completing a Bachelor of Arts in Visual Arts and Art History at the University of Windsor.
She is a multidisciplinary artist who works in drawing, performance art, sculpture and video. Since graduating, Sara has participated in a variety of group exhibitions throughout Vancouver including, 221a, Gam Gallery and the Lion’s Den. Most recently she exhibited Bills, a solo show in Winnipeg at gallery672 Sargent that displayed a collection of embroideries.
Currently Sara is working with the artist collective Department of Unusual Certainties, out of Toronto, on an upcoming exhibition for fall 2013.
In 2014 she will engage in a one-year artist in residence for Harcourt House artist run centre.
Across time and space (i.e. the last two weeks), I spoke with the event organizer, local poet and writing professor, Jen Currin, about the literary community shared between Seattle and Vancouver. A woman of threes, Jen teaches at three institutions—Vancouver Community College, SFU and Kwantlen—and has authored three books of poetry: The Sleep of Four Cities, Hagiography, and The Inquisition Yours.
We confabulated with the lovely Renée Saklikar, another resident poet of Vancouver, whose upcoming publication fromNightwood Editions, children of air india, is a series of elegies taking up the bombing of Air India Flight 182. The book is part of Renée’s larger work, the life-long poem-chronicle thecanadaproject.
I asked Jen and Renée to ponder the links between people, language, cities, and countries by way of the ephemeral “thing” separating and bridging all of them: borders.
Sad Mag: Where are you originally from?
Jen Currin: Portland, Oregon.
Renée Saklikar: Well, that depends. New-West-Min-Is-Ter (pronunciation, circa 1977) is my British Columbia home-town. I arrived here via Saskatchewan and before that, from Quebec, Northern Ontario, Nova Scotia, New foundland and Labrador, and before that Poona / Pune, India where I was born.
SM: What do you experience when crossing the border?
JC: Annoyance. Depression at the “security” era in which we live. It’s gotten worse and worse since 9/11. Iris scans and fingerprinting for “non-citizens” of the U.S. and Canada. Depressing and ridiculous.
SM: When I say “border” what is the first image that comes to your mind? RS:Day into night. Grief into joy. Inclusion/Exclusion. Every movie ever made about the immigrant/exile experience, including, El Norte, Casablanca, Children of Men. Also, the Sound of Music.
SM: What’s your relationship to Seattle?
JC: It’s a city I know as a not-quite tourist; I visit my good friends there usually once or twice a year, and go down also to do poetry readings sometimes. Once a year I usually go to get a hug from the holy woman Amma when she does her U.S. tour. I love the coffee, the bookstores, and the green green green.
RS: Seattle is get-away and return. It is permission, for some strange reason required, to go micro-local. It is the Queen Ann district and almost every restaurant and shop in those two city blocks surrounding the faded glory of the Seattle Centre. Favourites include: Toulouse Petit for breakfast, and afternoons spent in the small second hand book store on Mercer. Home away from home in Seattle is the Inn at Queen Ann. [..] In this way, place is a comfy-known, all the edges of the city smoothed over.
SM: How does your particular space inflect your work?
RS:Particularity occurs as dimension: what is seen, not seen; what is at the margins, not the centre; what is un/spoken. What is slant, not straight on. What is un/authorized, un/official. Bargain room. Off-off Broadway. On the bus. Standing in a long queue, waiting.
SM: What has been a significant crossroad for you as a poet?
JC: It was important for me to cross borders—to move up here from the States. Soon after moving here in 2002, three poets and I started a women’s poetry collective; it grew to a collective of seven poets called vertigo west. We worked together for many years, workshopping, giving readings, publishing chapbooks. Two of us were from the U.S., one of us was from Turkey, three were from Ontario, one was from Quebec. I can’t imagine a better “poetic landing” than the one I received. Thank you Brook, Kim, Meliz, Colette, Emilie, and Helen.
SM: What kinds of borders do you cross within your own work?
RS:To cross might be to transgress: memorial undercut by counter / memorial. Official confronted with un/authorized. Subtext underscoring surface, context framing transition, from one kind of narrative to another, the journey as if to a different country. From present to the far past, which is entry into another dimension. From community remembrance as collective: staid, settled— to witness as transaction, ever-changing, present.
SM: For you, what do these cross border encounters do for the literary community?
JC: These borders were made up by colonizers and it’s hard to think of them as anything but arbitrary. That said, they are also very real and these nation-states determine so much of our lives. I am more interested in the Poetry Nation than the nation-state. Cross-border encounters strengthen the Poetry Nation. Poets need each other. We understand that what we do is important, even as late capitalism could give a fuck about us. Good. Let’s remain underground and quietly build our global network. Vancouver [poet] Rachel Rose runs an occasional cross-border reading series called “Cross Pollination,” and I love the idea of poets as bees pollinating the flowers of another region. Sharings of aesthetics, politics, forms…
SM: What happens when poets cross borders?
RS:Present time irradiated by border time. Mix n Match. Cross-stitch. Do-over. Hop-skip. Re-discover.
Sad Mag’s Fantasy Fiction Deadline has been extended!! You now have until August 30th at midnight to send in your fantastical fiction submissions. The winner will receive a $250 cash prize (that’s a lot of Magic cards) and their piece will appear in the upcoming issue of Sad Mag, FANTASY, out this fall.
Sara French received her Masters of Applied Arts from Emily Carr University of Art and Design in 2011 after completing a Bachelor of Arts in Visual Arts and Art History at the University of Windsor.
She is a multidisciplinary artist who works in drawing, performance art, sculpture and video. Since graduating, Sara has participated in a variety of group exhibitions throughout Vancouver including, 221a, Gam Gallery and the Lion’s Den. Most recently she exhibited Bills, a solo show in Winnipeg at gallery672 Sargent that displayed a collection of embroideries.
Currently Sara is working with the artist collective Department of Unusual Certainties, out of Toronto, on an upcoming exhibition for fall 2013.
In 2014 she will engage in a one-year artist in residence for Harcourt House artist run centre.
Last year’s Pick of the Fringe and this year’s Ovation Award for Outstanding Production, Small Theatre, is back! Sad Mag contributor Melanie Shim gets the inside scoop on what this year’s production is all about.
My first Archie-related memories involve visits to the dentist. My dentist is still low-tech and instead of a television, her office has an array of magazines and Archie comic books that you can peruse as you wait. But, I promise you that Riverview High: The Musical, which is based on those very same comic books, is like a palate cleanser to any uncomfortable memories of your dentist picking and prodding your teeth.
Riverview High employs the premise of a common Archie scenario – boy meets two girls, boy asks both girls out to prom, girls find out and demand that boy chooses between the two. Throw in a few song-and-dance numbers and you basically have a perfect Archie-inspired musical.
Returning to the Firehall Arts Centre for a two-and-a-half-week run in August, Riverview High is high-energy, nostalgia-driven and fun, fun, fun. Set in 1996, the familiar story centres around our protagonist, Alex, played by Erik Gow, who is stuck in a love triangle and must choose between girl-next-door Cathy (Alex Gullason) and sophisticated Erica (Ranae Miller). Seeking help with his high school dilemma, Alex enlists his girl-hating, hot-dog-loving best friend Parker (Cameron Dunster), who is wrapped up in his own girl problems since Esther (Michelle Bardach) just can’t take no for an answer. Alex needs to make a decision fast because the girls’ other suitors, Randy (Lucas Blaney) and Dexter (Caleb Di Pomponio) are vying for their affections too.
“When Angela [Wong, author of the musical’s book] and I first starting talking about writing a musical, we knew that we wanted to write something fun,” says Stewart Yu, composer, lyricist and music director. “The idea of taking familiar characters and putting a fresh twist on it really appealed to us, so we took inspiration from things we grew up with, like the Archie Comics, Saved By The Bell and California Dreams. In some sense, our show is in the vein of Avenue Q and Wicked—both of which play on familiar stories and surprise you with what they have done with the characters.”
Boasting the Pick of the Fringe in 2012 and six Ovation Awards in 2013 (including Outstanding Production, Small Theatre), Riverview Highpromises an hour and a half of smiles and laughter, choreographed dance sequences and original songs. While theRiverviewHigh gang will be putting on the same show, there are exciting changes to this production from its run last year during the Fringe Festival.
Yu explains, “Yes, there are definitely some new things happening this year. The Fringe run was an incredible learning experience for us. Riverview High was the first musical we had ever written, so we learned a lot about what worked and what didn’t during the Fringe run. Thankfully, the majority of the show was very strong—we knew we were on the right track with the extremely positive feedback about the show. There were just a couple of story arcs that needed fleshing out and some tweaking that we wanted to do. After working on the show again, we have a couple of script changes and new songs to share with you!”
While Archie and the gang are sometimes considered flat and unchanging characters, the creators of Riverview High crafts real people in real situations and offers a new perspective on the Archie universe. This is why Yu thought Archie would be great source material for a musical. He says, “It’s a story about a clueless teenager who is forced to grow up, whether he’s ready for it or not. It’s a story about love, and whether or not you have the guts to follow your heart…I think the reason why Riverview High has held people’s attention is because we start off with these fairly one-dimensional archetypes and turn them into real characters that you can relate to.”
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Riverview High: The Musical is social! Check them out all over the interwebs at their website, Facebook, Twitter, and Youtube
Have you seen Sad Mag’s most recent Sunday Strip? Artist extraordinaire and frequent Sad Mag contributor Sara French, whose work was notably featured in our Vanimaux and Mad Mad World issues, provides cuttingly smart comic relief. Which is one reason, among her many claims to fame, why French is Sad Mag’s newest Vancouver Notable.
As a multidisciplinary artist who works in drawing, performance art, sculpture and video, French has participated in a variety of group exhibitions throughout Vancouver, including 221A, Gam Gallery and the Lion’s Den. Most recently, French exhibited Bills, a solo show in Winnipeg at the independent gallery 672 Sargent that displayed her collection of embroideries. She is currently working with a Toronto artist collective called Department of Unusual Certainties on an upcoming exhibition, slated for fall 2013, exploring housing development, internationally and within the Greater Toronto Area.
Sad Mag: Who are you?
Sara French: I am an artist that works in performance art, drawing, video, textiles and writing.
SM: How did you get involved in Sad Mag?
SF: Through my friend Maegan Thomas who writes for Sad Mag. We used to work together.
SM: How did you get started in illustrating?
SF: I was studying English at York University and I started volunteering at an art gallery on campus, Art Gallery of York University or agYU. I liked what I saw, so I started doing it. Once I started, I realized that drawing has so many possibilities and I have never given up.
SM: What or who inspires your work?
SF: I do a lot of work, so that is a big question. I have a day job, I work to keep clean, I workout, but then I make art, which I think is the work you are referring to. I wouldn’t categorize my art making as work. When making art I am inspired by life, I am inspired about the way people live and the choices of living. I explore life through art and the endless odds that we may embrace or not embrace. Life is vast and art helps me engage with it in a more detailed way. I can be different people, explore different lifestyles, try different habits, use my other hand to write, and more. In addition, I am inspired by people, my family, writers, artists, acquaintances, collaborators, friends and myself.
SM: Where are you as you answer these questions?
SF: I am in Edmonton in my room at my desk.
SM: What’s the last comic book/book you read?
SF: My boyfriend has a zine that is 24 pages of amazing comics that he issues every month. It’s called Fatras by Vincent Roche.
I also recently read the first 5 Walking Dead comic books by Tony Moore and I have Black Hole by Charles Burns waiting to be read on my shelf.
SM: What piece of work are you most proud of?
SF: Wow. That’s a hard question. I’m proud of it all, rather than one specific work. But if I had to be proud of one work the most it would be my Norman Eberstein project which I began during my Masters at ECUAD [Emily Carr University of Art and Design] and it’s still ongoing today. The project is vast. Basically I created a character and he is Norman Eberstein. He is an unpaid, self-licensed, non-insured, altruistic, benevolent security guard that has performed at over 30 events and locations over the past 4 years. Most recently he performed at a queer cabaret night in Edmonton called “Queer Summer Night’s Dream.” He has produced a collection of bookworks that are his loggings and reports from his shifts. There are videos, photos, relics, abject remnants, documentation, which are all a part of the project that one day I hope to exhibit.
SM: Who is the one person that has most effective influenced your work?
SF: A lot of women come to mind when I’m asked this question: my best friends, Maryam Yousif, Lois Klassen and my mentor whom recently passed. She was 83 years old, and taught me diving, sailing and swimming, at summer camp. Jan Moldenhauer is her name. One of my favourite writers, whom I’ve met, is Chris Kraus. All these females have greatly affected my work. More importantly, K8 Hardy. She is an amazing artist. She is represented by Reena Spaulings in New York and recently exhibited at the Whitney Biennial. I feel like we are alike, which probably only exists in my head. She makes amazing videos and now she is making fashion. I like all female artists doing DIY now, especially Claire Fontaine and Bernadette Corporation. Most importantly are the people I know personally.
SM: What are you working on right now?
SF: Currently I am working on a new character named Reena Smith who will be performing for an exhibition that is being created in collaboration with the Department of Unusual Certainties, a Torontonian artist collective. The theme of the show is housing development, internationally and within the Greater Toronto Area and it will take place in Markham, Ontario.
SM: What are you most excited about right now?
SF: I was just awarded artist-in-residence for Harcourt House Artist Run Centre here in Edmonton. Starting November 2013, I will begin a one-year residency with the gallery that will conclude with a final exhibition. It is a huge honour and I’m very excited to get started.
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To see some of Sara’s ongoing projects, visit her three blogs below:
FRNDSHPBRCLTS – a collection of her friendship bracelet making works
Collage College – a document of collage parties she has held and will hold