Photo by Kayla Frioult

When you think about your favourite piece of tech, chances are it’s lightweight, high-speed, and small enough to always be wondering where you left it. That’s not the case for Daria Hirny. Her tech of choice? A three-thousand-pound, antique printing press. And it’s got three friends! In addition to her Heidelberg Windmill press, she has a Chandler & Price Platen from 1910, an Oswego paper cutter from the early 1900s, and a Challenge paper cutter from 1970. Good thing she also owns Homework Letterpress Studio, where she brings cards to life with hand-mixed inks, thick cotton paper, and a passion 500 years in the making. This week’s “I Am YEG Arts” story belongs to Daria Hirny.

Tell us about your connection to Edmonton and how it’s influenced your path.

I grew up in Edmonton as a first generation Canadian. My parents chose Edmonton out of all the other cities in Canada because of a few family connections, but generally they were on their own. To me it was all I ever knew, and I was able to build some really amazing friendships throughout grade school and University. As I age, I always find new ways to love this city and find inspiration. Edmonton is home, and it has given me the comfort and connection to share the things that make me happy.

How did you learn about printmaking, and why did it resonate with you?

When I was in my second year of my Bachelor of Fine Arts, I had an opportunity to take a printmaking class. It was all new to me. I didn’t know there were so many different styles of printmaking, I didn’t know that the University of Alberta had a world-class printmaking facility, and I didn’t know that I would be learning from some of the best people imaginable. I loved that there were so many different techniques to learn and that you could put your own spin on it once you learned how to use the machines and materials properly. It has a perfect blend of clean and messy, technical and exploratory, delicate and physical. There’s just nothing else like it.

What made you settle on letterpress?

I ended up settling on letterpress because I was interested in finding a career where I could straddle the line of art and graphic design. Throughout the history of letterpress, it has been used for all sorts of graphic design projects—posters, fliers, invitations, greeting cards, and anything that needed to be reproduced quickly with many copies before computers were invented. Because I wanted to make art that could be accessible to a wide variety of people, I realized that printing greeting cards on a printing press could be just the answer I was looking for.

What from your everyday fuels your creativity?

I love watching the seasons change, seeing the bugs come out, and listening to the birds sing. I love having a nap in a hammock and feeling the sun on my face. Calm moments outside fuel my creativity and help me gain a fresh perspective on life.

Cards become such keepsakes in people’s lives. Do you hold onto them? Can you tell us about one?

When I was a kid, I used to keep every card I was given. Now I try to keep the ones that will bring me joy or surprise me when I reread them later in life. To be honest, I don’t remember any imagery on the cards I was gifted, but I do remember the messages inside. The ones that are the most important to me are the ones that show honesty and vulnerability. These are the messages that are usually too hard to say out loud to someone but can be written in a card and be reread over and over.

Who’s someone inspiring you right now?

Someone who is inspiring me right now is Meg Gleason, of Moglea. She uses the greeting card form to play with her own style by using letterpress and paint techniques that are truly one of a kind. She has a way of not letting the greeting card limit her in what she can do and instead uses it as a vehicle to share her art with the world. I find this incredibly inspiring.

What’s your favourite part of the creative process and your least favourite?

Seeing my designs come to life in letterpress is definitely my favourite part of the creative process. With all letterpress projects though, there is usually a lot of prep work. This is probably my least favourite part because there is a lot to do, it can be overwhelming, and it usually involves things like measuring, which can easily go wrong.

The printing press is one of the most important inventions of all time. What does it mean to you to be part of print culture?

One of the reasons I love letterpress is because of its long history and its beautifully designed machines. I feel empowered to use these machines as a woman in a city where there aren’t very many letterpress printers. Because of the culture behind letterpress, there is a strong online community of letterpress printers who I have learned a lot from.

What are you currently working on or hoping to explore next?

Currently I am working on a new catalogue of greeting cards for Summer 2022.

You visit Edmonton 20 years from now. What do you hope has changed? What do you hope has stayed the same?

Twenty years from now, I hope to see more printmakers, more people trying letterpress, and more people being bold with their creativity. I also hope that the maker community is still as friendly and supportive as it is now.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here to learn more about Daria Hirny, Homework Letterpress, and its catalogue of greeting cards and other printed ephemera.

About Daria Hirny

Daria Hirny runs a letterpress printing company called Homework Letterpress Studio. Daria loves to bird watch, hike, and when she can, take a good two-hour nap. Each card is inspired by Canadian nature, vintage illustrations, and antique machines. The printing process has always interested Daria since she learned printmaking back in University. She settled on the letterpress process because of its printing speed, quality, and amazing engineering.

Her bio will tell you she’s a singer-songwriter and multi-instrumentalist who creates electronic/pop music with sincere, clever lyricism. But all it really needs to say is “rising star.” As overused an expression as that often is, there’s truly no better way to describe Tatiana Zagorac. And we’re not the only ones who think so. Nominated for Electronic/Dance Artist of the Year at the 2019 & 2021 Western Canadian Music Awards, Zagorac, known professionally as Talltale, is turning heads across the globe. Her one-two punch? Well, in addition to being formally trained, she’s simply all the things that can’t be learned: compellingly relatable, effortlessly funny, and a natural storyteller with an impeccable sense of timing—just don’t ask her to play tennis! This week’s “I Am YEG Arts” story belongs to Talltale.

Tell us about your connection to Edmonton.

Born and raised here! My parents both immigrated here from Serbia, and whenever winter rolls around we (half) joke about why they chose this city of all places. But I feel like I grew up with this city in a way, it’s changed so much in the time I’ve been alive. I travel a lot for music, and coming back to Edmonton always feels like home.

Was music always a natural fit for you? What was it about the arts that made you feel like it could be your community?

It was always what I wanted to do, but by no means was it a natural fit. Most artists have a story where they talk about being gifted from a young age, and I have no problem saying that absolutely wasn’t the case for me. I think it’s important to share stories like that! One of my best friends recently reminded me that while he got “Best Band Student” in Grade 8, I got “Most Improved,” and that’s the kind of attitude that’s helped me get as far as I have, I think.

In regards to community, I think it’s possible to find it anywhere, but I feel incredibly fortunate that I found a lot of my community while attending the MacEwan music program. It felt like one big family to me, and many of those people I’m still gratefully in community with to this day.

What led you to focus on drums and composing music?

Drums was a bit of a happy accident—I was assigned to clarinet in Grade 7 band and found that it wasn’t for me. Halfway through the year they held auditions for percussion, and I saw that as my only way out of clarinet, while still getting to take a music class. I never would’ve guessed that I would’ve stuck with it and that it would be my instrument of study in university years later!

Songwriting I started doing at a very young age, though originally just writing lyrics and only hearing the melodies and production in my head until I picked up guitar later (and then production in university). As I’ve gotten older, I feel more at home with songwriting, composition, and production as opposed to live performance, probably because I’ve done it more, but also because I really enjoy being able to present something exactly the way it was intended, without anything being left to chance.

You’re both self-taught and formally educated. What would you say have been the biggest pros and cons of each?

I think a big con of formal education is discouragement that is fostered through feeling a sense of “right and wrong” while creating your art, and also through your “ears” (in the case of music) getting better faster than your ability. A pro, at least for me, is that, as someone with ADHD, having deadlines and a formal learning environment was incredibly conducive to the quality and speed of my development. I also have a hard time learning concepts when there’s no one for me to ask questions of, so having instructors and peers to draw upon was crucial for me.

Tell us about someone who’s been a mentor to you.

One of my biggest mentors was the choir and theatre musical director at Strathcona High School, Stephen Delano. Looking back at 16-year-old me, I was honestly insufferable—I was shoehorning myself into extracurriculars that I didn’t make the cut for, I was prideful and stubborn, and I gave artistic advice to peers with an unearned sense of authority on the subject. But Stephen found ways for me to learn and participate and grow, giving me responsibilities with running rehearsals or teaching the cast their harmonies once I had earned the opportunity. He even helped me decide between a drum or a guitar instrument major for university! He saw the potential in me, and I became a better musician and person for it.

Who’s someone inspiring you right now?

I’m endlessly inspired by the other female artists in Edmonton pursuing music, in particular, Laur Elle and Margo. I’ve been fortunate enough to work on both of their projects in a few different capacities, and watching them grow so rapidly is incredible. While their musical success is certainly noteworthy, I’m most inspired by their confidence and sense of self. And on top of that, they’re truly two of the kindest people I’ve ever met! I don’t know how they do it all.

Tell us a bit about Talltale and how that journey began.

I always knew I wanted to be a musical artist (though I think the vision of what that looks like changes as you get older, and you get a clearer picture of your options). In my last year of university, I felt ready to try and record an EP. I knew I wanted to come out the gate with something that sounded professional, and at the time, the only pop producer in Edmonton I knew was Ari Rhodes. I did my first EP with him, graduated school, won HOT107’s Hot Factor competition half a year later, signed a publishing deal right after, and have been continuing to learn the business and refine my skills as an artist since! From about 2018 onwards, I began working with local producer Robbie Townsend (professionally known as Father Bobby Townsend), and that was when I started creating music that I felt sounded like me. Since then I’ve been selected for a number of national development programs, received several grants and awards, and travelled internationally to write for artists in Japan, Korea, Taiwan, and LA. It was not at all what younger me pictured, but in many ways it’s much cooler.

What excites you most about the YEG arts scene right now?

I very recently started collaborating with local writer/musician/owner of Glass Bookshop, Jason Purcell, on some of their projects, and it’s opened my eyes to how much of the arts community here I wasn’t acquainted with, despite growing up here. The music community is quite small in a way, so I felt like I was familiar with the arts scene, but I’m really realizing how many folks are doing work in fields like the literary and visual arts that I’ve never met. I’ve seen Jason pull these communities together through collaboration, and it’s very exciting. I think the arts scene in Edmonton is uniquely supportive and uncompetitive but still incredibly high quality, so it’s exciting to think about how further collaboration between disciplines will impact that. 

Tell us a bit about what you are currently working on or hoping to explore next?

I’m currently finishing up an album! I’m very excited about it. I wanted to push myself musically to incorporate more electronic and orchestral elements, and I took a much heavier role in producing this record. I’m also really looking forward to putting together a great live show for it! With all the knowledge I’ve acquired over the years, it’ll be really fun to combine aspects of DJing, drumming, singing, and programming lights/visuals.

What makes you hopeful these days?

I wish I could say this wasn’t a tough question. I spend a lot of time kind of burrito’d in blankets feeling anxious and depressed about a lot of things. I think a lot of musicians would say “music,” but I even have a tough time doing music without wondering if I should be doing something that feels like it has more utility to people’s wellbeing. But I do think the one thing that makes me feel truly hopeful is community. As an individual, it’s easy to feel hopeless when you’re looking at problems on such a massive scale. But finding community allows you to create meaningful and impactful change with a group of people that is tangible.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here to learn more about Talltale and to check out the video for her latest single, “Tennis Club.”

About Talltale

Amassing over 400,000 streams as an independent artist, Talltale is a singer, songwriter, producer, and multi-instrumentalist who creates electronic/pop music with sincere, clever lyricism. Her most recent single, “Tennis Club,” has received notable positive attention from outlets like Canadian Beats, Buzz Music, and VENTS Magazine, as well as a premiere for the self-directed and edited music video on Indie88. Her live show sets her apart from other artists in her genre, as she plays a standing electronic drum set while singing. Her previous work has earned accolades such as Best Electronic Song of 2018 in the Canadian Songwriting Competition, Artist to Watch at the EMAs, and two nominations as Electronic/Dance Artist of the Year at the Western Canadian Music Awards.

The lead single, “Tokyo,” off her previous album, A Japanese Fever Dream, was placed on curated playlists and played across CBC, Sirius XM, and college radio, while the music videos for “Tokyo” and “Shed My Skin” were on rotation on Stingray’s 4k. Upon the end of the album cycle, Talltale was invited to perform at the Canadian Embassy in Tokyo. She regularly writes for other artists internationally, and has participated in several CMPA international writing camps. Talltale was selected as an export-ready artist for the Canadian Passport Summit in 2022 and is currently working on her next release.

Photo by Dhakshboo Photography

There are those who lead and those who follow. Saxophonist Allison Balcetis is the best of both. As a musician, teacher, collaborator, and performer, she has a lot of roles and responsibilities, but none delight her more than receiving the handoff from the composer—a moment she calls “the relay.” A close second best? That’d be the launch—a.k.a., sending out the music to the world. It’s no surprise then that the name of her album, Relay. Launch., is a celebration of that process. Sending music out to the world is exactly what she’ll be doing June 18, when she performs with the UltraViolet ensemble, presented by New Music Edmonton. Until then, and long, long after, you’ll likely find Balcetis doing what she knows best: championing the strength of multiple points of view, appreciating the foundation of family, and finding magic in the process. This week’s “I Am Yeg Arts” story belongs to Allison Balcetis.

Tell us about your connection to Edmonton and what keeps you living and working here.

I came to Edmonton to earn my Doctorate in Music from the U of A in 2007. I knew only one person here, William Street, who was my supervisor, and that was it! Beyond the very supportive community within the department of music, around 2010 I joined the board of New Music Edmonton (NME), a contemporary music concert non-profit, and that organization’s members and employees added immeasurably to my sense of belonging. The combination of rigorous study at the University with producing concerts with NME really professionalized me. It formed the basis of my arts network and has grown to include work with dancers like Gerry Morita of Mile Zero, Jen Mesch, poets like Shima Robinson, and other amazing musicians. I currently live about 2,400 miles from my nuclear family, but I feel so lucky to be both rooted and supported here by artists who want to play and make things together.

What drew you to the saxophone? Was it a natural fit or something you grew into?

I guess I came from a lineage of saxophonists, starting with my mother who played in high school, to my older sister (4 years older), and then me. My whole family is musical: my dad plays accordion and ukulele and sings in his church choir, my mom continues to play piano and is an avid concertgoer, and my sister continues to play saxophone. They’re all professionals in other fields, but my family was always going out to concerts.

They supported me early on by providing me with private lessons to supplement my public-school band education, and then my older sister went off to get her Bachelor’s degree in music and psychology, so I had a model of what was possible beyond high school. My sister and I would play duets together and, eventually, we busked together as a duo, so I had to be up to snuff at an early age or our act would fall apart! She kicked my butt in the best way possible, and I know I wouldn’t be here without that early inspiration.

Tell us about someone who’s been a mentor to you and how the experience influenced your path.

Well, beyond my sister, I’d have to say another early mentor was a jazz vibraphonist and drummer in Omaha, Nebraska (where I grew up). His name was Luigi Waites. You should google him, he’s a legend! He ran a jazz workshop for junior high and high school kids each spring and taught us the basics of jazz improvisation. He grew really close to my family, and I considered him like one of my grandparents. He jokingly called my mother his parole officer! He taught me about performing under pressure, not dwelling on mistakes in the moment, and being a reliable professional musician. He allowed me to play sometimes with his amazing band, Luigi Inc, in a bar before I was of-age (no period after “Inc” because It means “including,” not “incorporated.” This was the core of his spirit)! He and his bandmates were so supportive and treated me as a peer. I love and miss him dearly.

What’s one piece of advice you wish you’d had starting out? And what’s something you knew instinctively?

When I was in school studying music, I wish there had been more diverse music integrated into the curriculum. The post-secondary system of music education in North America is still pretty Euro-centric (even more so a while back), and I bought into that model. As a player of a non-orchestral instrument, for years I felt like the saxophone’s repertoire (and by extension, me) was not sophisticated enough, like I was studying music that (A) was just not as relevant to me as it was for my orchestral-instrumentalist peers, and (B) that I was all the lesser for it.

What did I know instinctively? I’m not sure, except that very early on I had the support of my family to study music in university, so if not “instinctively,” then at least early on I knew the inherent value of being a musician—that it’s important and worthwhile. It’s quite upsetting to work with students who are going against their parents’ wishes to study music. I admire their tenacity because it isn’t easy even in the best circumstances.

How important has collaboration been to your career, and why are you drawn to it?

Since moving to Edmonton, collaboration has been the focus of nearly my entire career. At the core of it, I guess it’s because I believe in the strength of multiple points of view when making something. I value the humility it takes to recognize that no one is an island. Perhaps the dread associated with climate anxiety and the fate of the planet (and then the myriad local issues as one zooms in) is better served by teaming up together. I think it’s true in matters of civics and democracy—and in creating art.

Relay. Launch. cover art by Parker Thiessen

Tell us a little about what your creative process looks like.

One aspect of my practice is to work with composers who are writing for the saxophone, whether it’s solo or in small groups. In this case, I research who interests me (and perhaps I’m already friends with them), and propose they write a piece for me or one of my groups. Then, if we’re successful in securing funding, the creative process begins. Sometimes composers want to know what I, specifically, can do on the saxophone, what I prefer, and what I excel at or find cumbersome. Then they start writing, sending me sketches of ideas, or simply asking if a certain musical gesture is possible. This can be a back-and-forth that lasts several months. Next, they send me a complete draft. After I prepare it, I’ll play it for them (this is often, say, about a few weeks before a public premiere), and they might find it necessary to make some small edits if there’s a discrepancy between what they imagined and how I played it. Then, it’s time for the public performance!

I love this process. I’ve done this with students who are assigned to write for me for school, as well as with professionals. In fact, I’ve probably done this process at least 100 times, and I really love being that half of the equation—the sounding of the thing that was written on paper. There’s a whole philosophical discussion to be had about when an idea becomes music. I like being in that timeline.

Who’s someone inspiring you right now?

American flutist Claire Chase is a big career inspiration for me. She founded the incredible International Contemporary Ensemble and has since moved on to a thriving solo career with a project that entails commissioning a slew of works each year. I admire her self-starting entrepreneurism and her commitment to the music of today.

Locally, there are several people who inspire me for their creativity and captivating performances: textile and sound artist Kelly Ruth, flutist Chenoa Anderson, poet Dwennimmen, percussionist Mark Segger, and dancers Gerry Morita, Jen Mesch, and Good Women Dance. This is only the beginning of my list though!

What are you currently working on or hoping to explore next?

I’m currently in between two concerts with my quartet, UltraViolet, where we’re premiering eight new works! Our second show is June 18.

Over the past few months, I have started some initial fiddlings with pedal effects on my saxophone, primarily for improvisation. I’ve been really inspired by the noise artists and improvisors in town who take either traditional instruments or atypical instruments and play them through various pedals, loopers, etc. It’s a mesmerizing performance, and I’m just starting out with it. My friend Kelly Ruth, for example, literally plays her weaving loom this way! She’s the one who encouraged me to plug in and amp up, so to speak.

Describe your perfect day in Edmonton. How do you spend it?

If we’re talking a Saturday or Sunday, I’m fortunate to live a few blocks from the south-side Italian Centre, so a pastry and latte is a great start. Then I’ll take my Chow Chow, Thor, to Buena Vista dog park. After that, the day might have a rehearsal with one of my groups, and the evening would involve attending a live show somewhere!

What excites you most about the YEG arts scene right now?

I love the cross-pollinating performances: the young jazz musicians who play a freer set with some of the more avant-garde “classical” musicians; the dancers who produce a visually stunning show with the visual artists and set designers; the poets who trust the musicians to improvise behind their words. Though the growing lack of affordable venue rentals is quite worrying to me, this is the kind of activity that buoys me and gets me really excited to be a part of this city.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here to learn more about Allison Balcetis, UltraViolet’supcomingJune 18 show, and her digital album, Relay. Launch, the proceeds of which go to Hares Outreach, a local mutual-aid network focused on advocacy, street outreach, and harm reduction.

Photo by Dhakshboo Photography

About Allison Balcetis

Internationally recognized as an ambitious contemporary saxophonist, Allison Balcetis has studied and collaborated with artists from around the world. Her international performance career includes concerts throughout North America, Europe, Brazil, Thailand, and Taiwan. Recent projects include partnering with André Mestre to create Curto-Circuito, a yearly workshop for young Brazilian composers, which has seen the creation of over 30 new pieces for saxophone and piano since 2014. Other creative partnerships include Colin Labadie, Ian Crutchley, Nicolás Arnáez, Thierry Alla, Rodrigo Bussad, and André Ribeiro. Her work as a soloist and chamber musician has produced over 100 world premieres.

As a faculty member of the University of Alberta since 2009, Allison trains the next generation of thoughtful, artistic musicians, teaching saxophone, chamber music, woodwind techniques, and aural skills. Outside of the university, Allison helps develop the contemporary arts community as former President of New Music Edmonton. From 2015–2018 she was co-curator of SubArctic Improv and Experimental Arts, a monthly concert series pairing dancers, musicians, text, and visual artists in a totally improvised context that saw over 200 artists grace its stage.

Allison’s recent chamber activities include the Edmonton Saxophone Quartet, improvisation ensemble damn magpies, UltraViolet ensemble, and work with Edmontonian musicians and dance companies, such as the Jen Mesch Dance Conspiracy and Mile Zero Dance.

In 2007 Allison co-founded Anubis Quartet, a Chicago-based ensemble with more than 30 commissions and premieres of provocative new music, performing with them until 2014. During her undergraduate degree, Allison won first place in the Fischoff National Chamber Music Competition in 2005.

Allison holds a Doctorate in Music from the University of Alberta where she studied with William Street. She also holds degrees from Bowling Green State University where she studied with John Sampen and is the first—and only—saxophonist to earn a joint degree from the Université de Bordeaux and the Conservatoire National de Région de Bordeaux where she studied with Marie-Bernadette Charrier.

You don’t continually need to be making art to be an artist. There will be moments when you’ll be stuck, and that’s okay—you’re not losing the art in you. Those wise words belong to artist Raneece Buddan, who learned that truth soon after completing her BFA in Art and Design. As you’re about to discover, art and self-awareness go hand in hand for Buddan. In her work she focuses on her cultural identity, being of Afro and Indo-Caribbean ancestry, by using fabrics to symbolize the beautiful merging of both cultures, as well as the discomfort she felt around her hair and skin tone from childhood to her teenage years. Introspective, innovative, and inspired by process—This week’s “I Am YEG Arts” story belongs to Raneece Buddan.

Tell us about your connection to Edmonton and what keeps you living and working here.

My mother lived in Edmonton for a few years before being transferred to Fort McMurray for work. When I immigrated to Canada in 2015 from Jamaica, I spent my first year in Fort Mac before moving to Edmonton to attend the University of Alberta, after being accepted for their Fine Arts program. I have since lived here throughout my degree, and now two years after completion, I have stayed to grow my practice as an artist. Thankfully, Edmonton provides opportunities and funding for emerging artists that I have and will continue to make use of as I grow as an artist and build my CV.

What’s the first thing you ever made that inspired your artistic path? Did you know then that you’d unlocked something?

I was always a creative “artsy” child. The first thing I remember creating and being really proud of was a project for second grade, at age seven. It was a dollhouse made out of a cardboard box, covered in construction /cartridge paper, with added hand drawings. I remember being so proud of it because it was so neat and perfect—plus my teacher kept it years after. From then on, I continued making random stuff, and in high school, I finally had art classes from 7th–11th grade, which gave me access to artists (my teachers), new processes, and materials. This is where I first used clay for portraiture and began collaging and experimenting with textures in my paintings. Clay and collaging techniques are now major parts of my art.

Top: Blooming ancestry, 2019-2020, ceramic, fabric, plaster,21x12.5x19.5, photo supplied. Bottom: To Fit But To Stand Out, photo by Charles Cousins. 

Tell us a bit about your process and use of material exploration.

My process in both my sculptural and painting practice has evolved into me finding my abstract figures within the material and being led by the material. I find figures within the grains of the wood (e.g. baltic birch plywood in my paintings), which I then cut out and intuitively add elements of the human figure, as well as fabric, both the real thing and painted. I strive to have my hand-painted fabric be as close to the real thing as possible. That means colour-matching and mimicking line weights and designs almost exactly.

In my sculptures, I follow the curve and natural grooves of the wood, and in my clay work, whatever abstract forms came from pounding the clay. Often times I’ll create small studies for my paintings and sculptures using a variety of materials to then translate into larger pieces.

Having recently completed your BFA in Art and Design, what’s your transition been like from student to working artist? What skill/wisdom have you leaned on most?

Initially, in the first year, I was incredibly burnt out because I went straight into an internship at Latitude 53 right after finishing my final year, which was from fall 2019 to summer 2020. I took no time off, which contributed to more burn out, so I wasn’t inspired to do art. I didn’t create any new work for almost a year. This was very hard, and I felt discouraged because I had been consistently making work throughout my degree, so I questioned whether or not I’d ever make art again. Eventually I had to make work because I’d received funding from the EAC with a report due. Through experimenting, I was able to get back into the rhythm of things for a couple of months, though I then stopped again for a few more months, however this time guilt-free. I realized then it was okay to not make work constantly. I also realized I knew nothing about being an artist outside of an academic setting, so it was unnecessary to be as hard on myself because I was still figuring it out and that “when it happens, it’ll happen. No need to force it.” I’ve been working at Latitude 53 for almost two years now, and I am happy with my work/art life balance.

What would you say are your greatest artistic sensibilities, and how do you nurture them?

I think I’m able to notice the small things—the microdetails. And I take satisfaction in (1.) noticing them and (2.) appreciating them by making them more visible by highlighting, transforming, or simply leaving them as-is; specifically for someone like myself who gets pleasure in seeing what has been overlooked to discover themselves.

What does community mean to you, and where do you find it?

I guess community means commonality, support, and being able to come together to enjoy and appreciate? I am happy to still have a small art community with some of my past classmates at the U of A. Even though we don’t share a studio space together anymore, we still make the effort to support one another online and in-person, whether that’s cheering each other on when we make something new or attending each other’s exhibitions. I have also found a growing community with Black creatives in Edmonton, whom I connected with through the 5 Artists 1 Love exhibition. The first time was an Artist Battle I did in 2019.

Top: Within this Vessel, photo supplied. Bottom: Entwined, ceramic, wood fabric, 2019-2020, photo by Charles Cousins.

What’s something you’ve learned about yourself through your work?

I am very capable and am able to do anything once I put in the time and effort. I’m very proud of myself for that. I also learned I’m a perfectionist who always wants to keep things within the lines and very pristine—a gift and a curse.

Tell us a bit about what you’re currently working on or a technique you’re hoping to explore next.

Currently, I’m designing and printing my own fabric using screen printing and block printing. Fabric is the main component in my work, and I think it would be beneficial for me—and also a matter of authenticity—to know what certain symbols mean within the textile. Also to research and know exactly where my fabric is from and the process behind its creation. Through this, the process is a major part of the art piece as well.

I’m currently working at a small scale, but I’d like to work larger. I would also like to learn how to weave, as the textiles I’m researching are mostly weavings I’ve simplified, so it’d be interesting to actually make the weavings I’ve been researching and inspired by.

Describe your perfect day in Edmonton. How do you spend it?

I’m a homebody and an introvert, so I prefer to just spend as much time by myself in my own space. But if the weather is nice (a.k.a., it’s summer), sometimes I like to visit the park (e.g. the Paul Kane Park) and just lie there in the grass soaking up the sun and enjoying the fresh air, maybe watch the ducks be ducks. I enjoy just doing nothing—absolutely nothing. It’s a luxury and peak relaxation.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here to learn more about Raneece Buddan, her work and where to follow her on social media.

My Knots, fabric, synthetic hair, and oil paint on wood, resin,12x20, 2021, photo supplied. 

About Raneece Buddan

Raneece Buddan is a Jamaican artist who moved to Alberta in 2015 and completed her BFA in Art and Design at the University of Alberta in 2020. In her work, she focuses on her cultural identity being of Afro and Indo-Caribbean ancestry, showing the beautiful merging of these cultures, as well as the discomfort she felt around her hair and skin tone from childhood to her teenage years. This is depicted by replacing her skin tone with fabrics meant to represent each culture and the use of synthetic hair. Her process is based on material exploration and finding figures within the material, the grains of the wood, and mounds of clay.

Photo credit: Cooper & O’Hara

Ever thought of our bodies as beacons and receptors in relationship to one another? Interdisciplinary artist Stephanie Patsula has. And a lot. Her live performances and immersive art installations explore her curiosity about the choices we make in relationship to each other and the environment around us. Safe to say, unpredictability isn’t something she shies away from. Just as significantly, neither is collaboration—a gift that continues to influence her work in ways she could not have dreamed. Best of all? It all started here in our arts community—a place she feels upheld, challenged, and understood. This week’s “I Am YEG Arts” story belongs to Stephanie Patsula.

Tell us about your connection to Edmonton and what keeps you working and living here.

I lived between Edmonton and Strathcona County until my early twenties when I relocated to Winnipeg, Manitoba, to start a BFA. It wasn’t until moving back to Edmonton, after a 10-year hiatus, that I started to integrate myself into the local arts. I began an MFA at the University of Alberta in the fall of 2018, as well as an internship at dc3 Art Projects—these two institutions were an excellent entry point for getting to know a variety of individuals at an accelerated pace.

What has kept me living and working here has been an ecosystem of artists, arts initiatives, and creative spaces. Edmonton has a very inviting and supportive art community, and I am truly grateful to all those who have encouraged me to participate within it.

What was it about the arts that made you feel it could be your community?

The arts have always been a space that I felt upheld, challenged, and understood. So with that said, I gravitate towards the arts and arts community wherever I live.

What is it about lens-based work that resonates with you and your artistic sensibilities?

Photography and video work resonate with me, as so much of what I currently create is rooted in the presentation of the live body and live performance. Lens-based practices allow for me to document work and use that documentation as ephemera or objects that can be presented separately or installed as a satellite to live performance(s).

You’ve said that your work “prioritizes embodied research, exploration of site(s), reciprocity through sound and symbology, while attempting to approach concepts of relational ethics, cultural ritual and spirituality.” Can you unpack that a bit for us?

The way that I think about it, embodied research, exploration of site, and reciprocity are almost one in the same. I am motivated by the desire for connection. To feel and be felt, I rely on my body, the places I inhabit, and the people and things around me to activate the relationships found in the performances and installations I build.

I am curious about the choices human beings make in relationship to one another and how a variety of moods or atmospheres can be created depending on the variables or constants in an environment. Currently, my interest is in exploring sensorial memories, and I tend to cite and generate instances of echoic and iconic memory when attempting to create a new narrative through my artwork.

Top: Stephanie with Flexible Hours performing in Iceland, photo provided by Outvert Gallery. Bottom: Whitemud Creek Ravine field recording, photo by Eric Fraser.

Tell us about someone who’s been a mentor to you.

I would like to shift the way that I define the experienced and trusted advisors in my life, opting for a less linear or hierarchical way of characterizing those who have helped to shape me at a variety of intersections of my career. For that reason, I embrace the nuance involved with personal growth and the variety of sources and stages of career that care, support, and shared knowledge can be derived.

I have had the privilege of knowing a wide range of this community’s multifaceted participants and can wholeheartedly state my gratitude to several people who have invested their time and energy towards helping me on my path. Although each of these individuals intersect with the arts in varied ways and with differing perspectives, each of them has underscored the importance of patience, inclusion, and innovation through their own actions, and each of them has generously helped me navigate how to be a better artist and community collaborator.

What makes these folks so fundamental to my time here is that they have led me to trust in my own ability, intuition, and pedagogical approaches. I really respect and value “mentorship” that places the autonomy of the “mentee” at the helm, and I hope that if I ever find myself in a similar position, I can provide the respect, critical feedback, and opportunities I have been afforded during the time I have known each of them.

What’s your favourite and least favourite parts of the creative process?

I would say that both my favourite and least favourite part of my creative process comes from a place of failure, or at least what I would deem failures in the work that I create. I have been unsuccessful in my practice and research on numerous occasions, but the way I interpret and respond to things going wrong has really changed in recent years.

Despite how disheartened I feel at the moment, these uncomfortable circumstances are very pivotal and help me to stay motivated to do better and learn. I find the process of moving forward towards a solution extremely rewarding.

What has the arts community taught you about yourself? And how has it influenced your work?

Being a part of the arts community has taught me the value of creative collaborations amongst peers. This has influenced my work in ways that I could not have dreamed. I am able to co-create projects with skilled technologists and artists in a way that I could not do alone.

Tell us a little about what you’re currently working on.

At the moment I am working on a performance-driven collaboration between myself and live composer Eric Fraser, called Flexible Hours. We are working with a variety of collected and created audio textures to build sound arrangements that vary in mood, tone, and function. The piece we are rehearsing is called “Beacon,” and we are performing on April 28th, in Calgary, as part of The Grand YYC ‘Live & Local’ event.

When you think YEG arts, what are the first three things, people, or places that come to mind?

When I think of YEG arts, I think of:

1. Mile Zero Dance—an incredible artist-run space lead by Artist Director Gerry Morita and General Manager Kelly Ruth.
2. DIY—Edmonton is full of really inspired pop-up galleries, artists creating and self-funding events, River Valley exhibition spaces, and outdoor shows…
3. Grant and project proposal writing with my pal, Eryn, at Kaffa off 109th—because this has been crucial to maintaining the financial support needed to explore and research. It can be a challenging and confusing experience, but is made so much better with a coffee in hand and a friend nearby.
   

What are you looking forward to most this spring and summer in Edmonton?

I love the River Valley, and it is pretty special that I can access the longest stretch of connected urban parkland in North America. I enjoy venturing out with a number of sound-recording devices and collecting a variety of soundscapes and textures from different sites around the city. There is so much to listen to, and I am really looking forward to doing more of that as the weather gets warmer.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here to learn more about Stephanie Patsula and her work.

Sympathetic Resonance still at FAB Gallery, photo by Luke Johnson.

About Stephanie Patsula

Stephanie Patsula is a Canadian interdisciplinary artist. The projects she creates are focused across a variety of processes coalescing in a union of somatic experiencing, experimental sound creation, and lens-based ephemera. Patsula’s work prioritizes the creation of immersive art installations and live performance, which explore bodies as beacons and receptors in relationship to each other. Her processes embrace the unpredictable dynamics of working with new materials, spaces, and bodies by corresponding with them improvisationally—a technique that reflects a personal desire for reciprocity and intimacy through an attentiveness to collaboration and adaptability.

In addition to her art practice, Patsula aims to foster connections within the local art community, working with project spaces and arts incubators to activate sites with programming, interventions, and events. Patsula holds a MFA in Intermedia from the University of Alberta, and she is an MFA candidate of the Sound dept. at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago.

Photo by Nadia Jade Photography

It is always better to be loved by few than liked by many. Emmet Michael knows this and couldn’t be more grateful. If you don’t already know his name, he’s a singer-songwriter winning the hearts and attention of music fans with his debut album, I Hope You’re Home. It’s an album that’s both an unflinching look at life as an outsider and the power of feeling at home in one’s own skin. As you’ll soon discover, this artist’s openness to talk about music is as generous and moving as his ability to write it. Equal parts grit and grace, this week’s “I Am YEG Arts” story belongs to Emmet Michael.

Tell us about your connection to Edmonton and why you make it yourhome.

I was born and raised in Edmonton. Up until recently, I spent a lot of time wishing I lived elsewhere. As time went on, I found more and more reasons to appreciate it here—particularly its vibrant arts and music scene. Even artists in more metropolitan cities, such as Vancouver or Toronto, are raving about the opportunities and support networks in Edmonton.

Alberta is a strange place to find yourself in as someone who is a part of a minority group—but Edmonton seems to be a safe hub for people like me. People in Edmonton appreciate and uplift unique voices in music in ways I think rural Alberta communities have yet to do.

What are your musical influences, and where do you see/hear them reflected in your work?

I grew up in the Christian church and was first introduced to music through worship. I think that’s a lot of where the more “ethereal” and “ambient” sounds in my songs come from. Despite never having written worship songs, I’ve been told often that they have a “worship music vibe.” Watching my mom sing on stages at church was what first inspired me to become a performer.

In my adolescence I really fell in love with emo music, and then later with more “folky” singer-songwriter types. Some of my favourite artists include: Manchester Orchestra, Brandi Carlile, Corey Kilgannon, Ruston Kelly, and Phoebe Bridgers. I listen to a lot of different genres and find that a little bit of everything makes it into my own sound. I don’t ever want to stay married to one particular avenue or get pigeonholed into a single style. I think the one thing that all of the artists I listen to have in common is the depth of meaning in their lyrics. They’re all poets in their own way, and that’s what I aspire to reflect in my writing as well.

What is the songwriting process like for you? Where do you usually begin?

My songwriting process is always quite abstract. Inspiration often hits at really inopportune times, like while I’m at work, driving, or in the middle of the night when I should be sleeping. I try to take advantage of it whenever it comes because it doesn’t come all that often. Most commonly my process is sitting down with a guitar or at the piano and tinkering around until something resonates. At that point, the words just follow naturally and are often just an expression of whatever I’m wrestling with at a given time. It’s always been a very personal and very cathartic experience for me. I live with a lot of anxiety and overthink everything. When I sit down and write a song, it’s a time where my mind is actually quiet enough for me to process underlying emotions. Having something tangible at the end of all of that—a fully completed piece of music—is just an added bonus to the whole experience. Writing lyrics enables me to actually understand and communicate what I’m going through in a way that I’ve always struggled to articulate in words.

What does community mean to you, and where do you find it?

As someone who hasn’t always felt a sense of belonging, community is life-saving. As a queer and transgender individual growing up in a religious community, I always felt a sense of loneliness and “otherness.” I felt like I had to suppress who I was in order to be accepted. I think authentic community breeds the opposite of that. It is about finding people who not only accept you as you are, but CELEBRATE you for who you are. I found that in the Edmonton arts community, at open stages in particular. These were places where you were encouraged to listen and share the things that make us all the most human, in a language that everyone understands—through music.

Tell us about someone who’s been a mentor to you.

I have had a lot of important mentors throughout my life and career, too many to name them all. One of the most prominent was Rhea March. I met her at one of her open stages almost a decade ago, when I first started performing my original songs. She helped me get some of my first gigs, interviewed and aired my music on her show, It Takes a Village, on CJSR radio, and later got me my first larger-scale opportunity at Canmore Folk Music Festival, in 2019. Among offering me support professionally, she also encouraged me personally. Early on, I dealt with a lot of self-doubt and struggles with mental illness and addiction. She saw my potential from the very start and helped coax it out of me. I will forever be grateful to her for that above all things.

I Hope You’re Home album cover. Photo by Nadia Jade Photography

What’s one piece of advice someone gave you growing up that turned out to be true. What’s one piece that didn’t hold up?

One piece of advice given to me at the beginning of my music career was to be able to take constructive criticism and “no's” well. If you manage to persevere through enough times hearing “no,” you were bound to get a “yes” eventually. I most certainly found that to be the case. I still get declined opportunities all the time, and sometimes it really stings, but the wins I’ve experienced as a result of pushing through have been well worth all of it.

Before recording my first project, the 5-song EP, I Feel Like I Just Woke Up, in 2019, I was told by someone in the industry that my songs were never going anywhere unless I made them more “mainstream.” I was encouraged to warp my sound and lyrical content to fit what he thought the greater public would be most apt to consume. The reality is that people gravitate the most to people who are authentic in what they create. I have learned the importance in knowing that it is always better to be loved by few than to be liked by many. A small audience of people who really resonate with what I’m doing will always mean more to me. The numbers don’t matter as much as people seem to think they do.

Tell us about the role that funding and awards have played in your career. What doors do they open for artists?

Funding has played an invaluable role in the advancement of my career. It is because of grants from the Edmonton Arts Council, The Alberta Foundation for the Arts, and FACTOR that I was able to afford to record and market my debut full-length album, I Hope You’re Home, released in May 2021. Having a professionally produced, full-length album put my name on the map in a way that it hadn’t been before. I had music played on radio across Canada, including CBC and SIRIUS XM radio. I had interviews on Global News and CTV Morning Live. I am now being offered far more performance and showcasing opportunities, which have allowed for me to be able to support myself financially in a way I couldn’t before. Just recently, I was awarded the Edmonton Music Prize for my album. The prize money will allow me to invest in my career even further, through the purchase of better equipment, studio time, and the cost of accommodations for touring.

I would not have been able to continue investing in my growth without these supports, and I am just so grateful to live in a place that values investment in creative work. It is my hope that I can use these investments to enrich my community the same way it has so greatly enriched me. These types of funding and awards help connect artists to their potential audiences, record music they might not otherwise be able to afford to, and promote the economy of Edmonton arts as a whole.

What makes you hopeful these days?

In recent years, I have watched Alberta embrace more diversity in the music scene. There have always been plenty of talented artists that are 2SLGBTQ+ and/or BIPOC, but now they are being given a platform. We still have a long way to go, but progress is happening. That gives me hope for the future of music in Edmonton and in Alberta.

Tell us a bit about your latest album, I Hope You’re Home, for which you were awarded the 2022 Edmonton Music Prize. What inspired it, and what story did you want to tell?

I Hope You’re Home is a culmination of all of the experiences I had that made me the person I am now. It expresses the longing for a feeling of “home,” not as a place, but as a comfortable existence in your own skin. There are songs on this album that I wrote as a teenager, and others I wrote just a couple of weeks before getting into the studio. Each song is a snapshot of a point in my life where I was really wrestling with something. Some of those things included: coming out as trans, going through an addiction, battling mental illness, grieving a loss, and trying to discover what love means in all it.

Years from now, when you look back on this album as a snapshot in time, how do you hope to finish this sentence: I didn’t know it at the time, but…

I am worth more than the story I tell.

You visit Edmonton 20 years from now. What do you hope has changed? What do you hope has stayed the same?

I hope that people are less afraid to express themselves as they are—for how they identify and who they love. I hope none of that matters at all. I hope that we continue to cultivate a culture of collaboration over competition. I hope there are more opportunities created for open and honest dialogue. I hope that we continue to see an Edmonton full of arts and music festivals and events. I hope that we continue to expand upon investment in art and music, as I believe these mediums are imperative to social change and a thriving community.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click hereto learn more about Emmet Michael, and visit the EAC’s website for more information about grants and awards that support artists.

Photo credit: Kassia J Photography

About Emmet Michael

Introspective and enthralling, with equal parts grit and grace, Emmet Michael is a musician who was built on his trials. Turning to music in his darkest times, he found solace in his ability to share his heart with others through his lyrics. Drawing on his experience of transitioning from female to male, living with mental illness, and battling addiction, his songs carry a tone of desperation and sorrow. With soulful melodies and heart-wrenching lyrics, his music conveys a message that is both powerful and vulnerable. Entirely unique, yet familiar.

There is a lifetime’s worth of honesty and vulnerability encapsulated in the Edmonton Music Prize Winning album, I Hope You’re Home, the debut full-length album released in summer 2021. A bold, unflinching look at life as an outsider before undertaking a journey of self-discovery that would help mould him into the person he is today, it is the sum of those experiences that resonate throughout the course of the record.

Recently showcased to larger audiences at Canmore Folk Music Festival, Festival Place, and the Northern Lights Folk Club, his live shows provide an experience simply too incredible for words. His eloquent storytelling pairs perfectly with an always evocative performance, allowing those in attendance to connect to him, themselves, and each other.

Raw vulnerability is what will always set Emmet apart. He bares his soul in a way that is sophisticated far beyond his youth. This is only the beginning for this talented songwriter.

“I Am YEG Arts” Series: VISSIA

Photo credit: Kane Wilkinson

There’s always more to discover. But for singer-songwriter VISSIA, the through line is always emotion, and her new album is no exception. Titled, With Pleasure, the compilation is a reflection of just that: taking pleasure in the whole process of being here and creating something out of nothing—discomfort and all. That journey is exactly what her curiosity craves. Rather than stepping where she’s already been, VISSIA’s embracing the challenges that come with venturing out past one’s comfort zone. And she’s doing it—With Pleasure. This week’s “I Am YEG Arts” story belongs to VISSIA.

Tell us about your connection to Edmonton and what keeps you working and living here.

I settled in Edmonton permanently when I was studying music at MacEwan in 2010 (It’s actually kind of wild to look at that. I’ve been calling Edmonton home for 12 years!). Edmonton is the only city outside of my hometown (Stony Plain) that I’ve ever lived, and going to university here put me in touch with creative collaborators I am still working with to this day. I’ve seen venues sprout up and grow—and also go.

I’ve made friends in the arts community who have moved on to other places. I’ve stayed. I can’t say whether I’ll stay forever—the future is unknown—but Edmonton has been good to me. It’s where I played my first shows as a solo artist. I appreciate how unpretentious and creatively inclined this place is for artists. And there is always more to discover, within and outside of the arts community, which is exactly what my curiosity craves.

What are your musical influences, and where do you see/hear them reflected in your work?

My musical roots are steeped in the country and folk traditions of songwriting, and those styles will always have a place in my heart, but in the past couple of years I have been really influenced by pop-leaning styles of music—pop, R&B, soul, rock. I listen to a lot of music from both indie and mainstream artists, anything from Lady Wray to The Weeknd to Hovvdy. The way that pop music connects with so many people across cultures and geography is so fascinating to me. I don’t love all pop music—a lot of it is not made to last—but the stuff that cuts to the core of the human experience in a way that hooks and begs to be listened to over and over again is something that I’m interested in exploring more. I dug into this exploration with my most recent album, With Pleasure. I think my roots show in songs like “Doorway” and “I Just Wanna Hold U,” and then with the rest, I’m pushing into new (to me) musical territory. The through line is always emotion.

VISSIA performing live in Kingston. Photo credit: Kane Wilkinson

On the business side of being an artist, what’s one decision you’ve made that’s moved your career forward in a significant way, and what’s something you wish you’d passed on?

The business side of being an artist involves so many more small decisions than really big significant ones, I think. It’s about consistency in work ethic and learning how to decide which opportunities are right for you as an artist, and which ones are not. I think how one does that is by constantly reconnecting to one’s values and reasons for doing this line of work and learning how to weigh risk versus potential positive impact. The more that I stay grounded in myself and what is true for me, the easier it is to say, yes, to the right opportunities and, no, when it just isn’t the right fit for me. Passing on something that doesn’t feel right or make sense creates space for the things that do. Through it all, I try to stay centred and focused on what I am looking to accomplish and trust that what is for me is already on its way to me.

What was the first song you remember wishing you had given to the world?

I remember being completely intrigued by “Vincent,” by Don McLean, when I was probably 11 years old or so. The Best of Don McLean CD got a lot of spins in my household—my mom’s influence—mostly for “American Pie” and this one. I’ve been a hard-falling romantic since I was young, and this beautiful song felt so tragic to me. The melody is gorgeous and a joy to sing, and I loved the challenge of trying to learn the finger-style guitar accompaniment. I didn’t even fully understand the meaning behind it at first; I just knew it made me feel deeply.

Tell us a bit about your latest album, With Pleasure, and what the highlights have been for you so far.

With Pleasure has been playful and explorational for me as an artist and performer. When I initially sat down to write for the album, I had a different title and intention. I thought I was going to write something closer to my previous album, Place Holder, which is more of an alternative, roots-leaning singer-songwriter album. When I was initially denied funding for a grant I had applied for, I decided to take a step back and really figure out what I wanted to experience artistically with this album. Rather than taking steps where I’d already been, I decided to move into a new direction and embrace the challenges that come with venturing out past one’s comfort zone. The process was all about play and fun—and pleasure. So that’s where I got the idea for the title of the album. It doesn’t mean that this is an album full of experiences that are entirely pleasurable. It’s about taking pleasure in the whole process of being here and creating something out of nothing, discomfort and all.

In addition to receiving some really lovely press and feedback from the UK, US, and across the globe, highlights for this album have included landing at #7 on CKUA’s Top 100 Chart for 2021, going on tour and playing to sold-out shows across Alberta and Ontario with Toronto duo USS, and now embarking on my own Canadian tour, followed by an international festival showcase at c/o Pop in Cologne, Germany. With every album I make, I feel like I am coming more into myself as an artist and person, and With Pleasure is a personal highlight in my own emergence.

Album cover of With Pleasure.

What does community mean to you, and where do you find it?

Community is like chosen family to me. It’s about gathering and nurturing all of the one-on-one relationships. I find community when in relationship with people who reciprocate support, trust, and vulnerability. Community is fluid and changes all the time though. Some people will be with me for decades, but I also accept that some people are in my life for only a season. I just want to connect with people who share my values, goals, and passion for creating. I also love how we can be connected over distances, and in that way, community is not limited by where one is physically.

Tell us about someone who’s been a mentor to you.

My stepdad, Ted, has been a significant mentor to me; not specifically related to music and what I do in my career, but a mentor in life and growing up. He’s seen me through some of my

biggest personal struggles and helped usher me along my personal growth journey. I feel very lucky to have him in my life as someone I can turn to for advice, a second opinion, or just an ear to listen. He always makes space and time for me, and I’m really grateful for the meaningful connection we have.

What excites you most about the YEG arts scene right now?

I’m most excited about the upcoming emerging local music artists here in Edmonton. There are a lot of artists in their early-to-mid 20’s who are passionate and putting out really great work at a high level, and they deserve to be heard.

Describe your perfect day in Edmonton. How do you spend it?

I live in Queen Alexandra, and I love being within walking distance from the river and places to drop in to grab treats and pints. My perfect day is quiet, slow, and meandering. I’d be sleeping in to the best of my ability, grabbing breakfast at the Sugarbowl, and then going on a long walking adventure through the river valley. I would eventually end up at the Black Dog to catch the sunshine on the rooftop, probably with a friend or two.

What makes you hopeful these days?

Playing live concerts again gives me a lot of opportunities for meeting new people. People will come up to me after a show and share their stories with me, and it’s those interactions I have with complete strangers that make me hopeful. Everybody wants to be seen and heard, and I think listening to each other’s stories—without feeling the need to relate—is how we stay connected to our humanity.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here to learn more about VISSIA, her new album, and where to catch her on tour.

VISSIA performing live in Kingston. Photo credit: Kane Wilkinson

About VISSIA

It is undeniable that Edmonton, Alberta, artist—VISSIA—is a songwriting and performing force to be reckoned with. With a show-stopper of a voice and a knack for storytelling, VISSIA captures the minuscule moments of monotonous everyday life and turns them to gold on her fearless new album, With Pleasure—an album that pines for connection, reminiscing on missed connections, and blurry nights out that meant everything. On every song, it feels like love is just around the corner. It’s a contagious feeling that makes us hopeful for the future and desperately excited to meet it.

VISSIA has made high-profile appearances including the UK’s Great Escape Festival, NXNE, the Edmonton Folk Music Festival, and the Canmore Folk Music Festival, opening for the likes of Hawksley Workman, Jim Bryson, Matt Andersen, and Lindi Ortega.

Photo credit: Daniel Wood

As we get older, our work often becomes more contemplative. That’s definitely the case for Brian Webb—and it’s exactly what he’s looking for. As an accomplished dancer, choreographer, and artistic director of the Brian Webb Dance Company, his artmaking has been both a journey of collaboration and a portrait of self. Today, that portrait reflects Webb’s commitment to the three practices that guide him: faith, dance, and martial arts. Amalgamating them is his new passion, as he asks the question, “Do I have the guts to be who I am today?” This week’s “I Am YEG Arts” story belongs to Brian Webb.

What keeps you choosing Edmonton as your place to live and work?

Edmonton is my home. Even though I danced in New York, which I loved doing and it really changed my life, I decided to come back to Canada, and Edmonton is where I ended up—particularly because I was offered a job at MacEwan. And that was very fortuitous because, right away, I started a dance company, and from the very beginning, it was a company in residence at MacEwan. Such an opportunity—and I tried to make the most of that.

Living in Edmonton has been great for me, and I am an Edmontonian through and through. I believe in this community and am thankful for the huge amount support I have received from the public sector and the private sector. For over 43 years I’ve had a community organization with my name on it—and how lucky for me—but I, of course, can’t do this by myself. This is a community organization, and that includes a huge number of hours of volunteerism.

When you were 17 and first starting out, what was it about the arts that made you feel it could be your community?

All through my childhood and youth, I studied piano and earned my Grade 10 Toronto Conservatory Piano. In doing so, I got an inkling I wanted to be in theatre, so I auditioned and got in to the drama program at the University of Alberta, which in those days was a most respected theatre program in Canada. There I took the first movement class, which was from a woman named Dorothy Harris. And I have to say that changed my life because I went, ‘Oh, this is me!” And from that moment, I’ve danced for the rest of my life. Now I’m 70 years old, and I’m still dancing.

As a choreographer, what narrative or inspiration do you find yourself returning to?

It’s always, ‘Who am I?’ I believe that all artmaking is a self-portrait. When you are creating art, I think you’re in a big dialogue with one’s self, with yourself, with myself… So I think that the topic I constantly return to is, ‘Who am I today?’

Tell us about the importance of mentorship in the dance community and how it has influenced your path.

We never do things alone. There are people who become important in one’s life, and I think it really has to do with what one learns from them. I was very fortunate when I started out to have some very good teachers, both in the drama department at the U of A and in the community. In particular, there were two women who hugely influenced me and my decision to go to New York, and those women were Jackie Ogg and Charlene Tarver. As a matter of fact, by the end of the first year of their dance company, which I was part of when I was 18/19 years old, I had choreographed my first dances—one of which was a full-length dance. I mean, who gives you that kind of opportunity? That is huge mentorship. As a teacher of dance, I think I learned to be a mentor for young artists, and I continue to mentor today. There are people across the country I’m in dialog with all the time about the creation of work. I think as one matures, it’s especially important to be open and generous with younger people—and peers.

How important has collaboration been throughout your career?

Along with mentorship, what’s important in artmaking is collaboration. When I did a Master of Fine Arts degree at California Institute of the Arts, which is still one of the great art schools of North America, I was introduced to feminist art theory, which basically says that we all have a story to tell, and each one of our stories is of equal value. And what that really then encourages is democracy. Well, that too can be applied to dance. And there’s one person who influenced me that way hugely, and that’s the visual artist Blair Brennan, with whom I collaborated nine times.

Blair and I defined collaboration as the democratic exchange of ideas to make something new. So, when you’re collaborating the first time, you learn who each other is and how you are going to communicate with this person. By the ninth time you’re collaborating, it’s hard to tell who is doing what because you’re doing everything together in a very democratic way. Blaire just had amazing influence on me that way, and it showed in our work. We performed those dances across Canada—and some of them in the US. He was just a major, major influence on me.

Tell us about a lesson you’ve had to learn more than once.

I think when you make a career of performing before people, it takes a lot of ego to do that. At the same time, I think I’ve learned to be humble in that process, and being humble was a big lesson for me. I think, too, that I’ve also learned to be who I am: very critical of myself and very ambitious—always working to make the best work I can. But as a friend of mine said to me the other day, “you are one of the most ambitious people I know, but you are not competitive.” And I’m not. I just do what I do.

BWDC Production of “PLACE”. Photo credit: Bottom Line Productions.

What excites you most about the YEG arts scene right now?

I think it’s most important that we recognize diversity in our community, so I’m excited that I’m seeing artmaking from so many more points of view than I once did. I like that very much. Over the years, the BWDC has produced the premiere of all of Usha Gupta’s dances. It has taken time and commitment from both her and me to develop her place in the Edmonton and the Canadian dance community. And I have learned from her! Our relationship is most important to me. She’s a very important artist now in our setting, and I have loved that relationship a lot. As excited as I am about diversity, there’s a part of me that worries that sometimes there is more political correctness than there is honesty in our efforts to celebrate pluralism. That’s a big statement, but I do believe it’s the truth. I think that as a community we still have a huge amount of work to do. It’s not enough for us to say we believe in diversity—we need to truly invest and reinvest in it long-term to make meaningful change. Anything less than that does a disservice to the importance of diversity and—ultimately—to the art itself.

What are you currently working on/exploring?

I am working—and on a really big piece—and my collaborators are Brad Necyk and Gary James Joynes. Garry is an AV artist, and Brad is a virtual reality artist. So, as someone only interested in contemporaneity, and I think that’s been a constant in the BWD scene, I’m only interested in today. So what I’m working on is a big piece about time.

I think about time a lot, and what time means, and how time is almost impossible to define—and yet I’m very aware of my age and finite time. In other words, the one thing we all have in common is that for each of us, time ends, and then we have the inconceivability of eternity. And as a practicing Christian, that makes me consider a lot of things about time and take interest in what other people have written about it. For instance, Saint Augustine and his 11th Book of Confessions, which is a discussion of time. In it, he describes present time as a perception of time, past time as memory, and the future as expectation. Now those are very personal things because who can really define time? It’s a wild one. So that’s what I’m looking at in this piece. And I’m having so much fun doing it.

Who’s someone inspiring you right now?

One of the people I’m working with in my new piece is a fellow named Deepak Paramashivan. Deepak does an ancient form of carnatica chanting—and—he’s currently at the U of A working on his third PhD. How can that person not be inspiring! Deepak also loves that old rock band, The Doors, which I also love. So one day we entertained people in India by singing Doors songs. In other words, we can talk and we can play. He’s just a very giving person.

What makes you hopeful these days?

Certainly my faith makes me hopeful. Hope is part of faith. But when I am working with artists like Brad and Gerry and see how they are really using technology and are super interested in it, that makes me hopeful too. I don’t know how people can call themselves a contemporary artist without some sort of interaction with technology, because technology is defining our world. And if we can make art in some sort of interaction with it, we can create some kind of positivity. But if we are only interested in technology for the web… well, that’s sad because it’s not creative.

In an interview a few years back, while reflecting on your dance career, you commented that “you have to dance who you are today.” Who are you today, and what is your dance?

I’m an artist. But I’ll tell you a little story. There was a period of time when I came back from California through to the beginning of the 90s that I described myself as a queer artist. Eventually, I realized I had put myself in a box, and I just couldn’t do that work anymore, artistically, politically, etc. It is then that I became an artist who is queer. There is quite a big difference between being a queer artist and an artist that is queer. So that’s kind of the intro to the answer, “who am I?” There is no question that my faith is determining very thoroughly who I am today, and that I’m interested in other contemporary artists who are very involved in a dialog with their faith. I mean, I ain’t unique. There are many people that way!

But on a secular side, dancing who I am today as a 70-year-old person is humbling, it’s hard work, it’s fun, and it opens me to communication with people in a different way. And I like that. I think back to how I was when I was a young dancer and how interested I was in my presence in a physical way, and in my “beauty” as a dancing human being. Now if I were interested in that today, it’d be pretty pathetic! So I’m interested in how I can dance—really dance—who I am.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here to learn more about Brian Webb and the Brian Webb Dance Company.

About Brian Webb

Brian Webb has developed a national reputation as a contemporary dancer, choreographer, and artistic leader. He has brought an international array of contemporary dance companies to Edmonton through the BWDC, which he founded 34 years ago, and his collaborations with Edmonton artists have toured across Canada and in the United States, including New York and Los Angeles.

Among many other honours, Brian won Edmonton’s prestigious Artistic Lifetime Achievement Award in 2012 and has received the Queen’s Golden and Diamond Jubilee Medal for his volunteer work in the community.

Photo credit: Jibril Yassin

Art has always been their medicine. It’s where they go to fill up, create, innovate, heal, and reimagine the world as they need it to be. And in a year that’s cried out for healing and reimagining, it’s no surprise this multidisciplinary artist replied with poetry, film, dance, music—and heart. Because no matter the form it takes, their artwork honours the spectrum of freedom for Black/Indigenous Peoples everywhere. This week’s “I Am YEG Arts” story belongs to NASRA.

Tell us about your relationship with Edmonton and how it’s influenced your path.

It has been a ride. I was born in Calgary, then was in Ottawa and Toronto back and forth until I was 11. So I’ve been in Edmonton since 2007. It’s been really formative—I owe a lot to this land—but I’ve also experienced more of the truth of who I am through fighting Edmonton and getting picked on by Edmonton for being who I am and wanting what I want for myself. So It’s definitely layered. But I am very grateful for the spirit of gathering that exists here. And I’m grateful for the underdog energy that it brings because I’ve come to a state where I do rep Edmonton, I rep Treaty 6, I rep Amiskwaciy. Whenever I go anywhere, it’s definitely because of that hidden magic that exists here—the power of people’s stories and creative energy that exists here. A lot of people don’t think that Edmonton has what it takes, and I love proving them wrong. So it’s a mixed bag.

You’re often described as a creative and an innovator. Why are both important to you and your work?

I guess, to me, they mean the same thing. In my imagination, they’re closer than they’re made out to be. I feel very connected to the identity of being a creative—maybe more so than an innovator—but I think that’s because creativity in my world has always meant innovation. It’s always meant creating something from nothing. It’s always meant manifesting and materializing what exists in my imagination and making that real around me. And whether that’s through a piece of music or a poem, I’ve always needed creativity because of how it innovates my life—how it could take my circumstances and reimagine the world that I’m craving in my heart whenever I feel like I want more. That’s what I feel like creativity is about.

You were named Youth Poet Laureate of Edmonton in 2016. What do you think it is about poetry that resonates so strongly with youth?

There’s no rules! I remember it was the one subject in school that was really based on my feelings, and my perspective, and my reality, and my truth. And it allowed us to go explore ideas that were often too lofty or that, especially as a young person, I didn’t have a right to speak about. You don’t have a right to speak about love, you don’t have a right to speak about trauma, and authority, and autonomy—you don’t have a right to speak about your dreams other than how they’re going to get you into the workforce.

SALVE Ep cover. Design by Kaz Mega. Photo credit: Jibril Yasssin

Tell us about your ep, Salve.

Salve is my baby. And, honestly, I’m glad Salve exists just because it exists. I said I wanted to make music, and I made music! For me, music is my oldest dream… It’s also a collection of teachings that I’ve gathered around healing myself and a practical self-care that goes beyond bubble baths.

How would you describe Salve in terms of its style or influences?

I’m still trying to figure out what the style is myself, but it definitely pulls from a mixture of neo-soul and hip-hop, alongside a lot of base. The base is where I like to start, so it’s definitely base driven. And it’s a collection of spoken word along with music, and every song is about, and works with, the healing property of a certain herb because through herbal medicine, I’m connecting back to my African/Indigenous practices of healing. A huge part of what that album is about is how they have healed me through my practice with them.

Is there a piece of advice that you lean on when days are tough? What is it, and who offered it to you?

My mom, who is amazing, has always told me a variation of that phrase, “you are in the world, but not of it.” She’d also pair it with “don’t let this world take you.” As a child who was always very feely, and as a neurodivergent person and very sensitive human being, it is very often that some of my deepest pains and troubled times have come from just being overwhelmed by the pain I was experiencing—or just feeling by proxy. So, yeah, “don’t let the world take you. You are in it, but not of it.”

What does community mean to you, and where do you find it?

Wherever the love is. Yeah, wherever the values meet and the embodiment of those values meet—that’s where I find community. I am rooted in the belief that we are all connected, and I move through the world with that at the forefront. It’s how I was raised. I know that my values are pretty clear, and if I can align with folks on those values, and if the way they’re embodying them excites me and makes me curious and want to learn, I am all in. Let’s go!

Looking back on Black Art Matters (BAM), what’s one big thing it’s taught you about yourself and the arts community?

It’s taught me that I have to get real good at asking for help. It’s taught me boundaries—definitely. Again, I’m very dreamy and very feely, so I do have a lot of insight and ideas about how we can make things different—and different for me. That’s also at the forefront. A lot of this change is for me. I’m not out here for charity. I need the world to be nicer to me—to allow me to become who I am without trying to disappear me. I have a right to that. With BAM, I really grounded in the truth that If this isn’t serving me, it’s failed. And when I was experiencing burnout, I really needed to take that into account.

The chorus of the first song on Salveis: I’m the Black life that I’m fighting for / I’m the Black life that I’m living for / I’m the Black life that I’m loving for / I’m the Black life that I’m speaking for. It’s me, and I can’t create anything from me if it’s not also going to feed back into me. If it’s not going to pour back into me, there’s no use in that whatsoever. So I think that is a huge lesson that BAM has taught me: that I am the community that I am creating for. If that means I need to reel things in, or get more people to help, or take a nap for a year, I’ll do it.

I’m also living under and through multiple intersections that are actively being marginalized and systemically hunted and threatened. So I actually don’t have the privilege to just try something else. I have to figure it out and be the one who is the most responsible and in charge of my wellbeing. I have to call on my community to engage with the structures that it has set up for me and maybe change some of them so that I’m not working so hard just to choose myself every day when a lot of other people aren’t experiencing that much pushback. It’s not fair. I want to be fair to myself and call on my support systems to advocate for that care for me as well.

Which part of your creativity is unlocked when you collaborate?

I think the play gets activated for me, and I’m back in the sandbox when I get to collaborate. There’s always a perspective that I didn’t have access to, then all of a sudden it’s, ‘I didn’t even think about it like that because it wasn’t my job to, and now there’s a whole new world of possibility that we can access!’ When I collaborate, I also get to share the win. That’s my favourite part. It’s really nourishing, and it feeds me to then be able to go and be alone because I’ve been filled up.

Collaboration also activates my practices around vulnerability, and being wrong, and my ego… All of those things are valuable, even if I don’t feel like it at the time! They challenge me in those new perspectives. The play also opens you up to needing to let go of some of your ideas, and not experiencing them as precious little babies that you’ll never get back again. So that ego really has to soften and allow for that vision to be expanded. And even though it’s exciting, it can be uncomfortable as hell.

Is your starting place the same, regardless of whether you’re working alone or collaboratively?

Yeah. My starting point is always setting intentions and doing a bit of a needs assessment to see how big the “ask” is emotionally, mentally, physically, financially, spiritually. It’s me asking, ‘What am I expecting of myself and also from the folks that I’m working with, so that we can start from a place that is truly transparent?’

DNAPLAY by NASRA. Photo credit: Jibril Yasssin

Tell us a little about what you’re currently working on.

DNAPLAYis a multidisciplinary theatre piece that explores the routine as ritual. Coming from this quarantine experience and COVID experience, I’ve been called in along with my creative comrades to really venerate the tiny moments that actually aren’t so tiny when you look at the patterns that they belong to. And by looking at those patterns as ritual and as ceremony, I can give them the kind of sacred recognition they deserve because they’re what’s keeping me here. With this opportunity to slow down and take stock, I really wanted to remind myself that this is about who I am, not what I do. It’s about how can I really see the art in my every day and honour it so that I never feel like I’m not an artist—no matter what my paycheque or calendar is saying.

Salve is also going to be a backbone of the show. There’s going to be poetry, and film, and movement as the primary mediums that I’m channeling through. I’m very excited, and I’m working with a brilliant group of Black queer artists.

What makes you hopeful these days?

Oh, man. Definitely so much, but hope is where I live for the most part. But definitely the creativity of Black queer artists—and Black-Indigenous artists, and Indigenous artists across the board—is really feeding me. Communities that are on the frontlines in all shapes and forms, and who have a vision and are tapped in every day to innovation, and change, and imagination also give me hope. Looking back at history has always sustained and has a really great track record, so I’m really invested in Black imagination and Indigenous imagination for what could be possible for our lives and spirits.

You visit Edmonton 20 years from now. What do you hope has changed? What do you hope has stayed the same?

No more pipelines anywhere. I hope that people have homes, and that we have a really beautiful system of making sure people are living with dignity. And that there is a thriving, culturally diverse, and brilliant arts scene that has room for everyone to speak their peace.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here to learn more about NASRA, Salve, and DNAPLAY.

Photo credit: Emily Welz

About NASRA

NASRA is a queer Oromo/Somali multidisciplinary artist based in Amiskwaciywaskahikan (Edmonton). Everything NASRA creates stems from the Black Indigenous belief that art is nature expressing itself; a true language of languages that has and will continue to sustain Black life. This belief named them Youth Poet Laureate of Edmonton in 2016 and birthed their festival turned platform, Black Arts Matter. BAM celebrates the inherent worth of Black creatives in Alberta through performance, education, and paaaaaarties.

NASRA’s currently exploring their creative languages through DNAPLAY; a veneration of Black queer routine as ritual. Channeled through poetry, film, dance, and the genre-bending, bass-driven sounds of their ep, Salve. No matter the form it takes, NASRA’s heartwork honours the spectrum of freedom for Black/Indigenous Peoples everywhere.

Titilope-Sonuga, photo by Kosol Onwudinjor.

Live performance is where her magic is—where the call and response with her audience comes alive.

But live performance is just the tip of her artistic brilliance. She’s the author of three award-winning collections of poetry, has written three plays, released two spoken-word albums, scripted advertising campaigns for global brands, and—oh yeah—is the ninth Poet Laureate for the City of Edmonton. Her work, both written and spoken, grasps for moments of tenderness and persistent joy at the intersection of blackness and womanhood. And her hope for all artists is to dream freely and approach one’s work with courage. Writer, performer, and Poet Laureate—this week’s “I Am YEg Arts” story belongs to Titilope Sonuga.

Tell us about your connection to Edmonton and how it has influenced your path.

My family immigrated to Edmonton when I was a teenager, and it is where we have called home for over 20 years. I’ve worked in the city as an engineer and as an artist, and both journeys allowed me to be connected to the art of building something new here. Edmonton allows for that—the ability to find a place to contribute to the vibrant life here. Much of my work as an artist has been made possible by the way Edmonton has empowered me.

What has your first year as Poet Laureate taught you about yourself and our city?

My first year has reinforced what I’ve always known to be true: that there is a hunger for art in the city and a real desire to support and empower artists. I’ve had to embrace the duality of the great possibilities of the role and the realities of emerging from (and, in many ways, still be within) a world-changing, challenging couple of years. I know that people need art more than ever now, and it is an honour to be in this role at this particular time.

What do you hope to accomplish in your second year, both personally and professionally?

I’m hopeful for more opportunities to create and showcase work that reflects life in the city, to expand on artistic collaborations that were established in my first year. It would be a great accomplishment for me to make poetry feel accessible and welcoming to people who would not otherwise feel connected to the arts.

What drew you to playwrighting, and what about it suits your strengths/sensibilities as a storyteller?

Playwrighting is a new skill that I am building and sits within my intention to create work that is as expansive as possible. It is an extension of my creative sensibilities—an attempt to tell simple stories through the heightened language of poetry. It allows me to stretch a little beyond the shorter form into something with more room to travel.

Tell us a bit about your upcoming, June 18th, “Up on the Square” performance with Melafrique and why performing live resonates with you.

I often say that live performance is where my magic is. I love it with all my heart. The call and response with an audience, the real-time experience of the work, it’s really where art gets to sparkle. It is always an honour to work with Melafrique, they are extremely talented and bring another dimension to the live performance.

What does community mean to you, and where do you find it?

Community for me is about a sense of place, safety, and belonging. The effects of being held in deep care by community reverberates into all parts of one’s life. I have the privilege of finding strong community in many places—in my artistic life, in my family life and friendships, in Edmonton, and in my home country of Nigeria. It feels like an abundance of care to be able to connect in so many different ways.

Tell us about the role funding has played in your career and the doors it opens for artists.

Funding is the bridge between an idea and reality. In my career, the right funding at the right time has been instrumental in pushing my work forward and setting me up for the next level of my progression. Being supported financially has allowed me to dream more freely and to approach my work with courage. That kind of freedom opens doors creatively, which in turn makes way for the art to move through the world with the urgency it deserves.

What’s one piece of advice you wish you’d had when starting out? And what’s something you knew instinctively that’s still serving you?

I wish I had known that the only rules that really exist are the ones you make as an artist, that the work is expansive and to trust that deeply. I wish that I had known to simply move in the direction of what brought me joy, even if that came with a bit of fear. What I know instinctively is that vulnerability is power, and the truth does not fail.

Who’s someone inspiring you right now?

It has been really inspiring to watch Medgine Mathurin’s journey, not just as a gifted artist, but as a patient advocate and a living example of what it means to create from a place of deep vulnerability, truth, and courage. I’m constantly learning from her life and work. It feels like a real blessing to bear witness.

What makes you hopeful these days?

My children, their innocence, their joy. They bring a lot of simplicity and hope into my daily life.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click hereto learn more about Titilope Sonuga, and here for more info about her June 18 performance with Melafrique at UP on the Square.

Titilope-Sonuga, photo by Kosol Onwudinjor.

About Titilope Sonuga

Titilope Sonuga is a poet and performer whose work grasps for moments of tenderness and persistent joy at the intersection of blackness and womanhood. She is the author of three award-winning collections of poetry, Down to Earth(2011),Abscess (2014), and This Is How We Disappear (2019) and has released two spoken-word albums, Mother Tongue (2011) and Swim (2019). Titilope has written three plays: The Six, an intergenerational exploration of womanhood; Naked, a one-woman play; and Ada The Country, a musical. She has scripted advertising campaigns for global brands and was an actor on the hit television series Gidi Up, which aired across Africa. She is the 9th Poet Laureate of the City of Edmonton.

Creative work is work. Just ask Fern Facette, a stalwart advocate for the accessibility of textile arts and the opportunity to make a fair wage teaching them. An enormously talented artist herself, Facette knows first-hand the value of mentorship, opportunity, and community. In fact, they’re three of the reasons she founded Fern’s School of Textile Craft. Committed to putting a modern spin on traditional textiles, Facette and her team offer workshops including weaving, rug hooking, punch needle, sashiko, indigo, eco printing, and much, much more. Just as impressively on offer are all the things Facette knows are vital to community: inclusivity, compassion, and the long-standing tradition of sharing knowledge. This week’s “I Am YEG Arts” story belongs to Fern Facette.

Tell us about your connection to Edmonton and YEG arts.

I moved to Edmonton from LA (Leduc, Alberta ; ) ) during high school. In 2012, I signed up to sell weavings at the Royal Bison Art & Craft Fair, and that’s where I started connecting with Edmonton’s art community. Weaving is a very solitary practice, so it was exciting to be surrounded by other creatives.

What led you to fibre arts? And what was it about the community that made you feel like you belonged?

In high school I signed up for a crochet class and loved that meditative space you enter when deep into a project. That led to knitting, needle work and—eventually—weaving. Honestly, I mostly didn’t feel like I belonged in the fibre community! I was usually surrounded by women who were much older and pretty conservative. Only recently have I felt like I belonged, as the community has grown in size and inclusivity.

What’s the first thing you ever made that inspired your career path?

I couldn’t pin it to one specific object, there were so many! But that first Royal Bison really lit a fire in me. The pressure to fill a table with handmade items is good motivation!

Tell us about how Fern’s School of Craft came to be and what it brings to the YEG arts scene.

People repeatedly asked me if I taught weaving classes, so I decided to give it a try. I rented a small studio space and bought four used looms off Kijiji. Over five years, in true slow DIY Edmonton fashion, we grew to have 20 instructors offering various textile-based workshops. I think what Fern’s brings to the scene is an opportunity to make a fair wage from teaching and the opportunity to dive into an otherwise obscure craft.

What’s one thing you’d like to “un-teach” people about weaving or fabric arts in general?

I’d like people not to think of textiles as just something cute that your grandma does. Yes, that, but also know that making textiles is an ancient art that spans every culture across the planet—that textiles were once the most valuable commodity that shaped history on so many levels.

Tell us about someone who’s been a mentor to you.

I am lucky to have two mentors, Cec Caswell and Kathy Buse. Both have shown great generosity teaching me their respective crafts (rug hooking and weaving). Every craft has small tricks and techniques, they’ve given me so many of these, and I pass them on in every single workshop.

Who’s someone inspiring you right now?

Spray-paint graffiti muralist AJA Louden. He’s doing a tufting artist residency at Fern’s, and it’s been super inspiring to witness. He works hard and has fascinating storylines/themes he’s exploring. He came in not knowing a tonne about tufting, and after a month-and-a-half, the student became the teacher. Also very awesome how community outreach is a big part of his work.

What are you currently working on or hoping to explore next?

Over the past five years my family has been navigating a history of adoption, reunion, and discovery. I hope to work that into my textile practice.

What makes you hopeful these days?

The younger generation is what makes me hopeful these days. I hope they can continue to steer us away from rigid, binary thinking and towards a more compassionate and sustainable future.

You visit Edmonton 20 years from now. What do you hope has changed? What do you hope has stayed the same?

See above answer for what I hope has changed! What I hope has stayed the same is that grit and warmth that Edmontonians exude.

Want more YEG Arts Stories? We’ll be sharing them here all year and on social media using the hashtag #IamYegArts. Follow along! Click here to learn more about Fern Facette, Fern’s School of Textile Craft, upcoming workshops, and much more.

About Fern Facette

Jessica Fern Facette (Fern, she/her) is an Amiskwaciy Waskahikan (Edmonton) based fibre artist who has been weaving for nearly two decades. She is a passionately engaged artist who encourages others to discover textiles. She founded Fern’s School of Textile Craft in 2017, a place where fibre artists from across Canada meet to carry on the long tradition of sharing skills and knowledge. Fern is a stalwart advocate for the accessibility of textile arts and has created many opportunities for folks to explore textiles through years of volunteering, mentoring and—most recently—an in-studio textile residency.

Working within the confines of a four-shaft floor loom, Fern’s own weaving is an exploration of the infinite possibilities of the over/under grid-like woven structure. Boxes and lines of various sizes create repetitive designs, accompanied by use of colour and texture. Natural fibres dictate the objects’ function, from wool cushion to sturdy cotton/linen kitchen towels. Her woven objects are a nod to weavers past and a study on the human relationship to the long-lasting handmade object.