Journalists covering Haiti asked to consider cultural blinders

Amanda Connon-Unda

On Tuesday March 16, the Canadian Journalism Foundation presented “Stories from Haiti.” The discussion with reporters who were there was moderated by journalist Sally Armstrong, and featured Maclean’s foreign correspondent Michael Petrou, Toronto Star reporter and columnist Catherine Porter, the Globe and Mail’s reporter Anna Mehler Paperny and photographer Fernando Morales. Following the journalists’ reflections on covering the massive earthquake in Haiti an audience Q&A prompted a discussion about the racialized patterns of aid and the cultural blinders that journalists need to consider when working abroad.

“In whatever we do, journalists have dilemas on their hands,” said Armstrong that night. “It’s easy to accuse people from the bleechers about media coverage,” she explained. “But, what’s the journalists’ role in a disaster area?” she asked. “Some people call us vultures of sorrow.”

Fernando Morales showed his slideshow of photos taken in Haiti. In one picture the justice palace is damaged and a long line of people are waiting at the UN station for food. In another, people rescue things from the rubble. As another slide went up the audience starred at a displaced persons camp where clean sheets were hung as people were “trying to live like normal,” said Morales. But living like ‘normal’ is hard, as another photo that followed revealed. In it, photos of now dead children were placed amidst the rubble outside a school.

In several of Morales’ portraits there was a look of sadness and desperation on many men’s faces as they waited for aid. Morales said he had witnessed the police and UN using pepper spray to control the growing crowds of people.

Michael Petrou too recalled the fear of personal violence that Haitians experienced, in addion to the devestation of the quake. Petrou’s return to Haiti was a follow up to his 2005 visit when he covered the over-crowded penitentiaries in Port-au-Prince. He said on this visit he reported that after the earth quake the prisoners had escaped from the same prison he’d visited in 2005.

Unlike the other journalists at the event, at age 23 Anna Mehler Paperny was completely green to foreign assignments. She spent two weeks in Haiti and when she arrived she asked herself amongst the rubble,

“What’s the story I’m telling here?” She answered her own question by saying, “The journalism doesn’t actually change. You’re still telling the same story despite being foreign. You still need to talk to local people like you would in Toronto.” The smell of dead bodies was pervasive, she said, but “What’s scarier is being face to face with people alive now, who might not be in a week.” She said, “You’re inability to help is unpalatable.”

Catherine Porter described a journalistic dilemma she encountered. She said, “You don’t have access to intellectual academic sources.”

“It’s raw journalism. You start reporting what you see, without having experts to bounce your opinions off of.” Porter noted it was hard to find professors of development and nursing but she also said, “It’s a question of who speaks,” it’s important to give regular people a voice. At the time, the voices of the NGOs were prominent and easy for her to find.

“It was weird to be a white woman reporting,” she said. “When I got my notebook out people would think that I was an aid worker…People wanted to tell me their stories,” she said.

From the audience microphone Tim Knight, an acclaimed documentary filmmaker who has worked in the African continent, asked the journalists, “How did your white skin affect the stories you got back from people?”

While the reporters acknowledged that their white skin often got them mistaken as aid workers, they did not articulate how their cultural outsider status may have changed how local Haitians interacted with them on the basis of race. Porter said, “I went to people’s homes. I didn’t feel like it was obvious that I wasn’t a local. You just have to ask many questions and not take things for granted.”

Porter said, “You’re relating to people. You’re talking about an individual, someone whose house has collapsed.”

“Disaster porn?” she asked, “It should be covered big,” said Porter, “I think it’s a jaded public that use that term.”

One woman in the audience from the Toronto Haiti Action Committee, a group committed to raising awareness about Canada’s role in the 2004 overthrow of Haitian President Jean-Bertrand Aristide, complained about the deluge of recent calls by journalists trying to find contacts for stories. She said journalists had shown very little interest in important issues prior to the quake. “When it comes to looking at Canada’s role in Haiti, why is that left out in coverage?” she said. Someone else said, “I think you need a bigger picture,” and another said, “I’m surprised you are neophytes. Please get the background and read one of the books about the history of Haiti. Bone up on the history and on Canada’s involvement.”

Porter responded in a somewhat exasperated voice, “I don’t think there’s a right or left wing of a tragedy. Where is there a political angle on a tragedy? It’s universal. That’s how I approached it.”
Perhaps now that the reporting about the devastation has been done big picture stories can be written. Porter exchanged information with an activist and said she’d like to hear more about their initiatives and research. It looked like a promising start.

Following the event, Mehler Paperny said “Any debate is good for journalism… I don’t think we question international intervention. Those are questions that are important to ask.”

@MargaretAtwood at the Toronto Public Library

Elizabeth Chiang

Margaret Atwood spoke to a packed crowd at the Toronto Reference Library as part of its annual Writer’s Room lecture on March 25, hosted by Ian Brown. The two traded witticisms about politics, literature, feminism and even Swedish humour.

Atwood is a celebrated figure in Canada’s literary scene. Her accolades are numerous, including the 1995 Swedish Humour Association’s International Humorous Writer Award. She was recently awarded the $1-million Dan David Tel Aviv University international prize for her contributions to modern literature. This is a prize she shares with Indian-American novelist Amitav Ghosh.  As an author of over 40 volumes, including poetry, children’s fiction, fiction and non-fiction, at seventy-one years old Atwood continues to produce profound and intellectually stimulating works.

Her most recent novel The Year of the Flood examines themes of spirituality, humanity, sexuality and life after experiencing a disaster. While it is not a sequel to her previous novel Oryx and Crake, many of the same characters return. When asked whether it was a “nervy” thing for her to “rewrite” the story, she answered a firm yes: from her view, it was a nervy move. However, it is not a rewrite, but she compared her retelling of the story to the Victorian novel, in which there is always a “meanwhile…” chapter that presents a different perspective of the events, happening simultaneously, and leading readers to the eventual merging of multiple plotlines.

In response to whether she feared that the threats of genetic engineering in her novels, such as Oryx and Crake, would come true in the future, Atwood replied drily, “I make things up.”  She used Dante Alighieri as an example of the writing tradition wherein he himself had not visited Hell, Purgatory and Paradise, but made things up for the sake of his story. She continues with aplomb, “What I write does not necessarily come true.”

But what she writes makes an indelible impact on the Canadian arts scene. She joked that even having been a writer for so long, she remains “pathologically stingy” and the ever looming worries of making a living are genuine. Her writing style is open-ended; she is prolific but does not make extensive outlines and prefers to start in the Homeric way with the action, followed by the past, and then moving to the future.

Atwood is sharp, eloquent, and, to some audience members’ surprise, extremely tech savvy. She is on Twitter and playfully joked with Brown about her “T of the D – which (you may not know this) means tweet of the day.” Atwood also blogs extensively and firmly believes that digital reading devices will play an increasingly large role in the future of reading, especially for baby boomers in their golden years. She embraces change and reaches out to her online audience as much as those she meets in person.

When asked whether there were situations where she would avoid writing something for fear of the cause and reaction in people, Atwood answered, “[Writing is] one of those art forms where the consumption is performed separate from the creation. You never know who reads your book and you don’t know how they’ll react and you can’t control that… the best you can do is to put it out there and hope that somewhere out there … readers find your book.”

Felix Hoffman visits Ryerson, highlights new German photography

Elizabeth Chiang

Ryerson University’s annual Contact Lecture Series began with a spirited talk by Felix Hoffmann, chief curator at C/O Berlin. Hoffmann is an art historian, art theorist, and the initiator of C/O Berlin’s Talents program for young photographers and art critics. The lecture was co-presented by the Ryerson Gallery and Research Centre, the Goethe-Institut Toronto, the Contact Photography Festival and the Ryerson School of Image Arts.

During his visit at Ryerson, Hoffman visited the historical Black Star Collection which was gifted to the university in 2005. It examines the personalities, events and conflicts of the twentieth century. Hoffman said Ryerson has a “unique, historic, and fantastic opportunity,” and hinted that Ryerson might also be able to feature some of C/O Berlin’s work.

Doina Popescu, director of the Director of the Ryerson Photography Gallery and Research Centre confirmed that “Felix Hoffmann and I have certainly embarked on a path of mutual discussion and exchange. Only time will tell where this will lead.”

In his talk Between the Arts: What and Where Is German Photography Now? Hoffman provided a sneak peak at several of the new shows he has curated for C/O Berlin. He also gave an educational overview of the new schools of art in Germany and discussed the artistic and structural changes they have experienced since the 1990s.

“The problem in Germany is that the Becher School (the world famous Düsseldorf Becher School of Andreas Gursky) is so prominent. It is an art market that is overwhelming other views. From the outside, you can only see the Becher School. Even within the Becher School, some photographers who invented a way of seeing are not recognized anymore,” said Hoffman.

“The new tendencies from Leipzig” – a term coined by Hoffman – includes Oscar Schmidt, Sebastian Stumpf and Tobias Zielony. Hoffman’s lecture was accompanied by a slide show of works from these up-and-coming artists, showcasing their talents and comparing their styles with the established Becher School.
Tobias Zielony’s depiction of suburbs and gas stations speak to the new generation of youth coming from Leipzig, where there is a burgeoning arts scene. There libraries, schools, health clubs, bakeries and corner stores are closing down at an incredible rate. Young people have no places left to socialize. “The deindustrialization, economic decline and the market not needing their labour causes young people to experience a loss of their immediate environment. At these gas stations, young people are acting out their own peripherality,” explained Hoffman.

Sebastian Stumpf’s work is disconcerting, especially when we see a person in the picture pretending to walk standing on his head in the middle of a street. The staged situations are entirely disconnected from everyday life and reality. A surrealism exists in his performance work that unsettles his viewers.
When asked about the role of film and video in the gallery, Hoffman stated that it has been two years since they started including video installations, and they have not started aggressively pursuing new media yet.
Much like the majority of art institutions in Canada, Hoffman said that C/O Berlin is privately funded through the entrance fees, charity funds, and sponsors. “It is not easy to keep culture alive,” said Hoffman.

After their first bucky, said the whale heads on the road

Bradley Whitehouse

Tyler Bancroft’s fingers aren’t just good for strumming chords. The singer-guitarist for Said the Whale is often gets his hands dirty tinkering with the unreliable tour van.
“It’s just a frickin’ nightmare,” says Bancroft.

The 25-year-old singer-guitarist for the Vancouver-based indie rock band has been busy tuning up the van for the band’s upcoming cross-country tour for their new EP Bear Bones. Since the five-piece group started touring in 2007 with their debut album Taking Abalonia, the acoustic band has had some serious car trouble and breakdowns while on the road.

“I’m currently in the tour van with my head in all sorts of crazy places. I just installed a new heater.  As we speak right now, I’m putting the glovebox back together,” said the musician over the phone.

But if the past year is any indication, things should continue to go smoothly for this tour’s lineup of cross-country performances.  In 2009, Said the Whale won the CBC Radio 3 Bucky award for most Canadian song for “Emerald Lake, AB,” which Said the Whale played at Parliament Hill on Canada Day and recently performed in their hometown during the Olympics.

“The vibe in Vancouver - I’ve never seen it like that in my entire life … we were really happy to have been a part of Vancouver’s history like that.”

With two albums under their belt, the group revisits their roots with their latest recordings. The EP includes a stripped down version of some of their signature tracks like “Emerald Lake, AB.”
Recorded in band member Ben Worcester’s bedroom, it has a raw, unfinished sound that’s honest and intimate.

“We certainly aren’t sitting down ever to write songs to be like, ‘Okay, we need a radio song, we need a mellow song which is going to make the girls cry, a weird song that’s got math and stuff.’ There’s never any intention to it. We’ll write what comes natural to us. It’s kind of more sincere that way.”
Bancroft first picked up the guitar in sixth grade because he wanted to learn how to play Nirvana songs.  He met Worcester in high school where the pair played in a couple of bands together. As they got older, the two decided to make a serious go of it with their music.

They teamed up with Tom Dobrzanski, who has worked with artists like Tegan and Sara and the New Pornographers.

Dobrzanski hooked the duo up with a few local musicians to do a recording. The bassist on the first tracks joined the project last-minute when Bancroft met him by chance at a music store.
“We were going to play it ourselves and I walked in to rent a bass and he said, ‘Well, do you need someone to play bass on your record?’, and I said, ‘Yes, we do!’ He got off work and came out and did it for a six-pack.”

After recording their first album, Said the Whale figured the next thing to do was to hitch a band together and hit the road.

“It’s been a pretty quick ascent to happiness.”

That said, life isn’t just one big jam session - they all have day jobs.  Bancroft works on his dad’s tug-boat, and during the Vancouver Winter Olympics he chauffeured NBC staff up to the mountains.
“It was pretty cool - I drove Jimmy Fallon to Whistler.”

A job at the wheel makes sense for a guy who is used to doing the long haul across Canada.
After making the trip so many times, the band has come to know their way around even the most forlorn areas of the country.  For Said the Whale, a successful cross-country tour just isn’t complete without a pit-stop for Canada’s best bacon.

“A huge part of touring is the food, and for us the number one place would be this random little place called Jaycie’s in Herbert, Saskatchewan.  They have the absolute best bacon that you’ll ever eat in your entire life.  I know, it sounds so random.  Herbert, Saskatchewan is just the tiniest little place.  I don’t even know if you could ever find it on a map.  We stopped there once by accident and we’ve never forgotten it since.”
Their next album hasn’t been written yet, but the west-coast band is making an Atlantic pit-stop during the tour, where they hope to find some inspiration.

“We have a week off in the middle of the tour so we’ve rented a house in PEI. We’re all going to set up our gear and do some writing together, stuff like that.  So we’ll see what comes out of that

Another Swedish band impresses Torontonians

Sara Torvik

March marked the twenty-eighth successful year of Canadian Music Week, a four day festival in which bands from all over Canada and abroad came to Toronto to play in 45 different venues.

One of the highlights of the week was the Gothenburg trio Hellsongs, who recently signed with Canadian label Aporia Records. Hellsongs managed to create quite a buzz with their unique twist on familiar songs.
Hellsongs played live at the Horseshoe Tavern, and proved they have an energetic stage presence to match their strong cover album. Their live show contrasted well with the soft mellow feel of their LP, and they had a great sense of humour. Lead singer Siri Bergnéhr donned a pair of black studded gloves and guitarist Kalle Karlsson shredded his acoustic guitar as if he were in an actual metal band. The crowd ate it up.

“The audiences here have been extremely ecstatic,” said Karlsson after the show. “They seem to be genuinely interested when we are playing, not talking at all, which some (people) have warned us about. And everyone is very talkative afterwards. Canadians in general seem to be more easygoing than Swedes when it comes to addressing someone for a short chit-chat,” he said.

As for what they have in store for us in the future? “There is an EP already recorded and released in Europe that would be new to you guys,” Karlsson said. “We’re going to try to have it released here, but we’re not sure if that will happen. Some songs are already up on Myspace.”

On their debut album, Hymns in the Key of 666, the band takes a collection of well-known heavy metal classics, such as We’re Not Gonna Take It by Twisted Sister and Paranoid by Black Sabbath, and gives them an indie-pop make-over. The result brings a fresh and unexpected flavour to the idea of heavy metal covers.
What really stands out about Hellsongs’ take is the emphasis on the lyrics. Their arrangements make you think about what is being said in those lyrics. The vocals that are adapted in Hellsongs’ music really create an awareness for the listener that there is a deeper message there.

A new Hellsongs album is currently in the works, but if you’re too impatient to wait you can listen to Hymns in the Key of 666.

Rocky Horror and Repo shadow casts celebrate sexual diversity

Tracy Chen

Just past midnight several hundred people cluster together into a sea of red seats at the Bloor Cinema. A teenage girl with pink dreadlocks sits in the centre. There’s a middle-aged man with a moustache and bald spot wearing a sweater. A young man who has come for the past nine years sits in the section on the right. He yells, “You’re a slut,” toward the stage in front of the movie theatre. The rest of the regulars join him, yelling.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show (Rocky Horror), a 1970s musical about a ‘sweet transvestite,’ is called a cult classic for a reason.

The Time Warp song starts to play. On cue, the audience members abandon their seats and gravitate toward the stage. “Let’s jump to the left,” plays the music. The crowd jumps in unison.

In the 1970s, although Rocky Horror was relegated to a timeslot called Midnight Madness, it quickly found a following. Today, Rocky Horror has the longest continuous run of any motion picture in history and has grossed more than $135 million in its lifetime.

At the Bloor Cinema, Rocky Horror regularly screens on the last Friday of every month with a live shadow cast, a group of actors and dancers on stage who imitate the onscreen action. Occasionally it is screened with another musical called Repo: the Genetic Opera.

Sam Abel, a cast member and Ryerson University student, usually wears dark-framed glasses and no makeup. On-stage her character wears the opposite style - layers of white makeup, and a maid costume that can barely hold in her cleavage. She says most people don’t recognize her outside of the show. Yet, once she was at the World’s Biggest Bookstore and noticed a man looking at her.  “Excuse me, are you in Rocky Horror?” he said. He then realized that he’s seen her in a totally different context without pants on and she imagined he felt really embarrassed.

Rocky Horror is the kind of place where cast members reveal their bodies and cross-dress in a playful non-threatening atmosphere. You can find an awkward, confused, chubby teenager who likes women’s clothing at the show. “A guy can come to the show, put on his dress and sparkly high heels and tons of eyeliner. Not only are you accepted, but you are celebrated,” said Rena Ashton, another cast member.

First time attendees in the audience are called “virgins”. The name is fitting; as a show with cast members stripping down to their underwear may be surprising. There have been instances of accidental female and male exposure.

Despite its edgier side, the shadow cast has a wider appeal on Halloween night, when Rocky Horror regularly sells out to an audience of 600 people.

Audiences will regularly throw witty lines and character references toward the stage. “If you know all the shut-out lines, you’re a hero,” says Ashton.

Outside of their roles in the play the cast members are employed as a Catholic high school teacher, a librarian, a lightening technician, a children’s musician and a tour guide.

Ashton said being a cast member is an outlet from her everyday life. “Once in a while, you just need to put on some orange sequin heels, put on the most outrageous dress you have, and say fuck three hundred times in four minutes,” said Ashton.

In both shows, bodily curves are welcome. Once, a girl asked Abel if she could join the cast even if she was chubby.  Abel told her it would be ‘fantastic’. “I have hips as wide as a yardstick and that’s fine,” said Abel.

AGO’s Sculpture as Time exhibit invites playful curiosity

Kate Spencer

Around a corner, tucked in its own small alcove, sits a Pepto-Bismol pink stucco blob. High on a shelf, with its back to a thick piece of wood, it looks like a creature out of Star Trek. On the other side of the board is a photograph of a buck-toothed nun grinning at a clay statue. Passersby stop and stare at the blob, then swing around to the front to stare at the nun. And back and forth and repeat. A small child stares up at the nun’s face and wails to its mother, “I don’t get it.”

This is Kelly Richardson’s Twilight Avenger, one of many contemporary sculpture pieces on display at the Art Gallery of Ontario, as part of the Sculpture as Time: Major Works. New Acquisitions exhibit, running from March 4 to August 1. The exhibit explores how artists from the 1960s have radically shifted traditional definitions and boundaries of the sculpture medium. The common thread of the exhibit is the interaction between the creative process and time. As says a plaque at the entrance to the exhibit, our ability to perceive time and our desire to define it shapes our awareness and understanding of the world. The artists involved in this exhibit have all explored an interest in a sculpture that demands time, and an interest in time.

It may be difficult for some patrons more accustomed to classical sculpture to enjoy the exhibit. Certainly, there are many people who would not consider a stack of dinner plates in a sink high art. It is important to remember that what makes modern sculpture so interesting and so fun for a viewer is the interactivity. This is a sculpture process that invites questions, creates excitement, and makes you long to take the whole thing apart and understand how it works. The viewer is as much a part of the creative process as the artist is—and can decide their own meaning, rather than having it imposed on them.

A beautiful example of work that invites this artist-viewer connection is Rafael Lozano-Hemmer’s Homographies, Subsculpture 7. This mixed media display involves fluorescent light tubes, computers and motors. And in a stark white room, people’s eyes are immediately drawn to the ceiling. It is an installation that causes the most serious of admirers to dance and spin and dash across the room, then stop suddenly and peer above their heads. They behave so strangely because the viewers’ movements control the lights. The light tubes are attached to robotic fixtures hung from the ceiling and linked to a monitoring device. As a person walks underneath them, they respond to their presence, position and motion and slowly rotate to look into the eye of their beholders.

David Moos, the AGO’s curator of contemporary art, feels very strongly about all the recent acquisitions that are being displayed as part of the exhibit, which mixes the work of established artists with leading young creators. “They are indicative of my curiosities as a curator,” Moos said in a telephone interview. He noted the common thread that ran through the exhibit—their relationship to time, framed in relation to what is historical and spiritual.

The installations are also connected by dint of being what is considered contemporary art. Moos explained that the definition of sculpture has changed since the 1960s, when it was considered an immobile form in concrete space. Now, there are new materials, not just wood or stone or clay, but really anything that the artist finds inspiration from. Another significant trend is the move toward ‘land art,’ which uses natural materials, and in which the landscape and the work of art are fused to become one thing. In this trend, as Moos said, “the idea of showing an object in a gallery is thrown out” and the idea of a gallery being the sole container of art was thrown out with it. “Those works are about nature, about us beholding natural phenomena as recorded by the artist,” said Moos. This land art style is shown in the works of Kelly Richardson and Anri Sala, whose video pieces are displayed together because both films feature animals as avatars of time. Both artists invite viewers to consider humanity’s relation to its environment.

For those patrons who are set adrift by the installations, there is hope. If you were to find yourself staring at Nathan Carter’s Blue and Cream Travelling Language Machine—a Doctor Seuss-like creation of wire and coloured blocks—and not quite seeing how it connects to the theme of “time,” Moos recommends making use of the AGO’s resources. There is extensive textual information on each work, and often the artists themselves have included dynamic informational tools, up to and

Abroad

A predictable homegrown romantic comedy about a young journalist in London

A new made for TV movie called Abroad debuted last month on CBC Television. Lian Novak reviews the film which was based on a novel by Globe and Mail journalist, Leah McLaren. Like McLaren in her 20s, the main character of this film also finds herself London working at a London newspaper, writing about her romantic misadventures.

Lian Novak

Elizabeth Bennett meet Bridget Jones meet Amy Pearce. If either of those first two names rings a bell you already have a pretty good idea of what Abroad is all about. Canadian expat journalist Amy Pearce, played by the delightfully quirky 29-year-old Torontonian actress Liane Balaban, arrives in London flustered and jet-lagged. All the while an upbeat Feist track is playing in the background, which helps set the tone. Amy goes straight from the airport to her new job at the London Daily Post without even dropping off her suitcases! This made me roll my eyes. She is that committed.  But at The Post she is met with resentment and patronization by her colleagues and boss. While a ‘serious’ journalist back home, here she is relegated to pushing the tea cart and writing for the ‘fluff’ section called Post Fem (with a pink font of course) where, if she’s lucky, she’ll get to write about bikini waxes and 10 ways to snog a bloke.

It soon becomes apparent that she only got the job through her connection with the Post’s patron, Lord Oldenberg, which suggests a thinly disguised version of Lord Conrad Black. They also reference how Amy came from writing at a conservative Toronto paper that Oldenberg also owns (cough, cough, National Post).  While Oldenberg seems warm and fatherly toward Amy, we soon find out that he’s not as virtuous as he seems.

On Amy’s first day, she comes across a whole host of colorful characters that one only meets in romantic comedies: her mean-spirited, vapid boss, the handsome and charming English cad who has her smitten faster than he can say ‘cheerio,’ the other handsome, yet gruff, English man who seems proud and prejudiced (hello Mr. Darcy!) against Amy and her two flamboyant flat mates that at once welcome her as one of their own.   The large, brightly kitschy decorated house that she shares with her equally brightly kitschy and permanently unemployed flat mates is another moment when the audience is required to suspend their disbelief (and collectively eye roll).  How they can afford to live in a house like that in one of the most expensive cities in the world is another magic movie moment that only further distances me from getting involved in any of these characters.  Is it just me, or is there anyone else out there who would like to see characters in romantic comedies living in drab, tiny square footage apartments like the rest of us?  If that were the case, maybe, just maybe I’d feel a pang of sympathy when the English cad in this film turns out to be a cad.

Abroad, a CBC made-for-TV movie, filmed by director, Philip John, is shot with what looks like a decent-sized budget.  The scenes are well-lit, with lovely English-rose saturated colors.  In keeping with the rest of the movie, the clichéd tourist backdrops run rampant: shots of the Tate Modern, the River Thames, pubs filled with drunk, rowdy ‘football’ obsessed men, the lush green English countryside and a finallovey-dovey scene in the rain (I roll my eyes again, but by this time I’ve lost count).
Though this movie follows the romantic comedy formula (naïve young woman goes through ups and downs, falling for Mr. Wrong before eventually falling for Mr. Right) there are still a few laughs to be had, mostly from Balaban’s comical facial expressions (she does disbelief and exasperation really well).

If you’re already a fan of Pride and Prejudice and the Bridget Jones movies, but were always hoping for a more homegrown connection, then Abroad should be your cup of tea! —Lian Novak

To watch the trailer, visit here.

Mai Iskander talks about Garbage Dreams

Jessica Finch

Documentary filmmaker Mai Iskander is a persistent and brilliant storyteller. Her latest film, Garbage Dreams, is a testament to her energy and dedication to film. In Garbage Dreams Iskander focuses on the Zabelleen, known as ‘garbage people,’ living in Mokattam, one of Egypt’s worst slums. The Zabelleen have formed a community waste removal and recycling service for nearby Cairo, as they pick up the city’s trash, then separate, recycle and sell all re-usable materials. At first glance, Mokattam is a sad site, as giant garbage bags line the streets and children play amongst mounds of refuse, but for the Zabelleen sorting trash is a way of life.

Iskander follows three Zabelleen youths as they come of age in the village. Adham, Osama and Nabil are best friends with starkly different personalities. Adham is the dreamer, Osama is apathetic, and Nabil is the oldest and most grounded of the three. The boys have been recycling since they were young, and although they have high hopes, their poverty prevents them from pursuing a life beyond recycling. They, along with other Zabelleen youth, attend the local Recycling School, a community institution that teaches recycling methods to kids and teens. The Recycling School is where Iskander (who is herself half Egyptian) first met the boys.

In 2005, she travelled to Egypt to learn more about her roots, but when she began volunteering at the school, her motives for staying changed. Iskander recalls her volunteering experience, “I met the kids and was impressed at how much they were like regular teens; interested in their hair and their muscles.” Understanding how these teens could remain strong in such an environment was part of Iskander’s mission with the film she has created.

The boys’ story takes a turn, when corporate waste removal services begin infiltrating Egypt and cornering the market. Mokattam must face the consequences of modernization in the garbage industry, as big business begins to squeeze the life blood out of the community. With less garbage for the Zabelleen, the future of the village hangs in the balance, and the boys must make some crucial decisions. Adham and Nabil are funded to go to Wales on behalf of the Recycling School. While there, the boys work and learn at a local recycling plant, and upon returning home deliver their findings at a village meeting.

The principal difference in European and Egyptian methods of waste disposal is source separation. This refers to the home owner separating their garbage from recyclables and putting two bins out for collection. This has never been done in Cairo, and several Zabelleen decide to start a campaign to get city dwellers interested in source separation. The campaign falls flat due to a lack of support from the corporate entities and a shortage of resources.

While the struggle between big corporate and small community interests is a large part of the narrative, Iskander insists that she made a conscious effort not to make a political film. She explained, “[I] really wanted to focus on the Zabelleen.” Her documentation of the hardships faced by the village, and the boys in particular, is really well done, and she is able to adequately capture the underdog spirit of Mokattam.
Iskander returned to Mokattam two years after the corporate invasion, to check up on the village and the boys. The village survived, but is not the bustling work environment it once was, while the boys do their best the stay friends despite following different paths. Iskander notes that, “The film has brought a lot of attention to the Zabelleen, and [although] the usual portrayal of them is as victims, no one had seen their contributions to society [before].” Many in Egypt taunt the Zabelleen for their status, but this documentary shows them in a different light; they are a strong, hard working community.

Garbage Dreams premiered at the South by Southwest (SXSW) Film Festival last year, and Adham was given the opportunity to attend. Since going to Wales during filming, Adham has developed an interest in world travel, and he given the star treatment at the Texas premiere. Iskander’s film was shortlisted for best documentary feature at the 2009 Academy Awards, and continues to play at Festivals and venues around the world. For more information find Mai Iskander at www.documentary.org.

Poetry Slam – An underground movement

Angela Walcott

A line of people snakes from the main floor of the Drake Hotel down a long flight of stairs to the basement.

The six-foot plus bouncer scrutinizes one youngster and demands ID from another. There is an underground movement at the Drake Hotel – in the most literal sense of the word.
Inside, a DJ spins the latest pop tunes and the crowd of over a hundred people, consisting mostly of smiling high school and university students, mills around. David Silverberg, host for the event, gives a jovial welcome thanking everyone for coming out on a Friday night.  His charm and wit adds to the ambiance and he expresses regret for having to turn away several people at the door because they are at capacity.

A graduate of Ryerson’s journalism program, Silverberg works as a journalist but loves to write poetry. He is a member of the Last Call Poets collective and was the editor of Mic Check: An Anthology of Spoken Word in Canada.

Since it first started, the Poetry Slam event has moved from the El Mocambo to Drake Hotel where Silverberg says they have formed a comfortable working relationship. The winter months are their busiest for their event which celebrates spoken word ranging from retrospectives and confessionals to socially conscious rants and tangents about politics. Attendees can hear the genre’s roots with hints of hip-hop, dub poetry and performance art styles.

With only a few winning spots up for grabs before the Poetry Slam finals, Silverberg explains the rules to everyone in attendance. “Poets perform three-minute original works in three rounds…Anyone who goes over the three minute mark, receives a deduction. Poems are scored by five random judges based on delivery, performance and originality. The audience is free to boo or applaud the score results.”

A young poet takes to the stage and cries out “Why did you Leave Me?” She implores, begs and curses as she recounts how every item in the room reminds her of her lost love. Another poet recites a love poem to his late grandmother. It is a visibly emotional moment for him to share and he shakes uncontrollably. The Poetry Slam competition features an eclectic mix of poets whose work covers many topics and genres from rants to ballads, and from love to the love of carpentry, depression and physical abuse. No subject matter is untouched.

Silverberg says the appeal of the event is the people and the art in their performances. “The rawness on stage is so rare,” said Silverberg. “It is a refreshing change from online communication. It is entertainment… You rarely hear the same poem twice.”

Silverberg says the most memorable performance at their events was by a man who beat-boxed while dressed in a chicken suit. Things went to a whole new level when he started to strip down to his underwear.

“I felt sorry for the people in the front row. Anything goes,” he remembers as he laughs.
The highlight of the recent Toronto Poetry Slam at the Drake turned out to be a special performance by Nova Scotian musician and writer, Shauntay Grant. Grant is the host of CBC Radio One’s All the Best, a weekly music program that airs on CBC in the Maritimes. Grant happens to be the third Poet Laureate of Halifax. She has a children’s book entitled Up Home, which she performed to the delight of the crowd.

After the Poetry Slam, Silverberg shared his vision for his events. “I hope it will attract new artists and that it will reach more schools.” He seems well on his way to reaching this goal. More students are getting involved with the Toronto Poetry Slam and youth just can’t seem to get enough.

While the independent small presses in North America have been turned on by the phenomenon of spoken word since it emerged in the 1960s during the Beat Generation, the phenomenon experienced a resurgence in its popularity in the 1990s, and has recently garnered far more attention from the mainstream media.

Former National Poetry Slam winner Shane Koyczan started to write because he was bullied. He developed his writing skills and entered Poetry Slam contests. He won the 2000 Individual Championship title. Koyczan performed his brilliant piece, “We Are More,” at Parliament Hill in Ottawa to a larger audience than he’d ever expected. Then at the Vancouver Olympic Winter Games Opening Ceremonies this year Koyczan performed the same piece before a huge audience of 3.5 billion people.

The Toronto Poetry Slam occurs every month. Admission is $5. Doors open at 7 p.m. and poets register to compete at 7:30. Semi Finals are March 14 and Finals are April 24.

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