Festival America — SOMETHING ABOUT THIS COUNTRY
Festival America — Something About This Country.
Every other year since 2002, Festival AMERICA has welcomed an absurd number of authors from North America (United States, Canada, Quebec, Mexico, Cuba, Haiti) to Vincennes (Val-de-Marne, France).
The presence of the biggest names in North American literature has marked previous editions of the festival. A shortlist includes Toni Morrison, James Ellroy, Margaret Atwood, John Irving and Jay McInerney.
Anchored in the French literary landscape, the event brings together around thirty publishing houses at its book fair. It offers over a hundred events including meetings, debates, booksellers’ café, readings, concerts, and exhibitions. Each edition expects more than 45,000 festival-goers.
VISUAL ARTS COMPONENT
Every good gathering of writers needs a few painters to keep things from falling apart.
For reasons long forgotten, they invited me to participate in their 9th edition as a visual artist. They offered me exhibition space and an opportunity to host a workshop or two.
I certainly don’t need to be threatened with a good time.
ASYMMETRIC PORTRAITS
I packed bags with a handful of brushes, no art, and the following statement:
I’m keen to compose a painted poem; an asymmetrical portrait of my relationship to Canada, touching this land from coast to coast, emerging from the upside down bowl of blue sky that blanketed the great plains of my youth.
These site-specific works are offered with the belief that unconventional art can inspire others to think in radically different ways, in order to stimulate a greater awareness on relevant cultural, environmental, sociological, and political issues.”
HEAVY PRODUCTION
I arrived in Paris very hot off the back of the Attainable Homes Calgary project. My lungs were filled full of fresh mountain air and DMT — Dimethyltryptamine — which I had taken my first irrevocably life-changing plunge into only days before.
Still reeling from the physical exertions of a big wall and the profound perception-shifting effects of the ‘spirit molecule’, I dove into a borrowed studio space. It was like a shallow pool at breakneck speed.
I created the work here during ten days and nights of nearly sleepless production in that little creative cave.
MISSION ACCOMPLISHED?
Depending on the metrics used to define the mission, answers could vary widely.
The festival was amazing. Go check it out if you ever get a chance! If we could only bottle the contents of just one bistro conversation with a group of wine-fuelled, incredibly bright literary minds…
The workshops went smashingly well. I adore this type of informal ‘educational’ activation. They are one of the most important aspects of what I do as an artist. It’s incredibly rewarding to witness the transformation of early teenage angst into a full blossoming of pent-up creative energies and ideas in young, often art-starved minds.
The paintings?
I’m really happy with what emerged from that process, though these works feel a bit like sketches. I would be happier with more time to explore the exciting avenues of expression opened up by the series. That sentiment may be always the case mind you…there’s never enough time in a day.
I’ll let you judge what they capture from a Canadian point of view. The response to the show was positive. Sold a painting or two, and met some cool folks.
MY RELATIONSHIP TO CANADA?
‘Success’ along these lines is hard to measure. How does one possibly impart a vision of an association to a geographical and political fiction?
Recent experiences with Dawn Saunders Dahl and Lloyd “Buddy” Wesley at the Banff Centre remained close at hand as I approached this challenge. We had just wrapped up bi-cultural pilot residency project concerned with active ‘reconciliation’, or “reconcilli-action”.
Working closely with First Nation people, I learned about their sense of personal identity. It’s in direct relationship to the land itself. The two are inseparable.
Theirs is a multifaceted relationship of practical, spiritual, and cultural dimensions, based on mutual dependence and respect. The land provided for the needs of the indigenous people on the landmass now known as ‘Canada’. In turn, they became loving stewards of their environment.
Through these conversations, a question came up that would change the course of my life:
What is my relationship to the land?
I have no vague sense of patriotism to the flag. Nor do I have undying support for this country’s athletic teams or pledge allegiance to its High Priests of Statism. What did become immediately apparent was that a critically important relationship had suffered long neglect.
Coming to terms with an ever-unfolding answer to that question has taken me down radically unexpected roads over the past few years.
In those Parisian moments, I sat studio-still, facing a black circular mirror of blank textured canvas. My brush strokes moved in time with heart and mind’s eye. I did so while holding close these these many diverse recent experiences of a place I’ve come to call home.
Sitting on the sun-warmed stone shores of a small Alberta mountain creek called Bragg, I gently came back to my body after what felt like a lifetime away. I was grateful beyond words to feel the touch of earth again. A voice, beyond space and time, repeated a simple but inescapable message:
“You are loved”
I am at home now, increasingly, wherever that may be.
FRIENDSHIPS
Many beautiful relationships emerge from this sort of event over the years.
As much as I resist the city, Paris has become a second home.
Many friendships formed in that place, and continue to feed my soul to this day. These are the well-ripened fruits of shared creativity.
A very special thanks to Valerie Etesse for being the consummate host of hosts. She is one of several highly dedicated core festival administrators. Through this experience Valerie has become a dear friend. Together surfed the darkest days of the pandemic, sending poetry to each other every day packed into little blue and gray bottles, set afloat on seas of social media and roaring tides of public opinion.
The stories of the many unsung heroes in our cultural ecosystems are written across the lives of tireless arts administrators. They make opportunities like Festival America happen. I’ll speak more to this down the road, as there is much more to be said on the subject that every really gets told.
PAINTINGS
These paintings, rendered on plywood and heavily textured with sand and acrylic paint, are looking for good homes.
If the mood strikes, please get in touch, especially if you’re on the European side of the big drink.
I’ll let the paintings do the rest of the talking from here.
