He’s been a jack of all trades and a free bird on the open road, he calls himself a procrastinator and a bad employee, but tattoo artist Dan Allaston has combined artistic talent with sound business sense to create one of Ottawa’s most reputable tattoo businesses: New Moon Tattoo.

His first shop went up on Burland Street off Carling Avenue in the west end 18 years ago, the second opened in Orleans six years back. Not surprisingly, Allaston is now a staple in the tattooing community and his name reaches far beyond Ottawa. From all the New Moon publicity generated through magazines, web sites, and more than 100 tattoo conventions in 12 countries, Allaston gets calls on a weekly basis from artists and apprentices who want to work for him.

“I don’t think business is complicated,” Allaston tells Guerilla. “Do a good job and charge a good price. And if you do something you love and try to do it well, the money will come.”

Content is their cause. Guerilla looks at Ottawa through a wide-angle lens to create material that is substantial, intelligent, diverse, approachable, curious, experimental, and presented from multiple viewpoints. Guerilla publishes feature stories, essays, images, and a variety of contributions from local artists, arts writers, and cultural observers. Check them out at www.getguerilla.ca.

Private faces, public places

Local photographer Ian Flynn McDonald gets up-close and personal with Ottawa’s indie rock scene

Ottawa’s indie rockers and their fans are the focus of Indie 613, an exhibit by photographer Ian Flynn McDonald.

At one time a perennial fixture on the Ottawa music scene, McDonald photographed bands back in the ’80s before he dropped everything to become a single dad. He has since picked up a new camera and resurfaced to shoot some of Ottawa’s hottest acts, including Tokyo Sex Whale, The Bible All-Stars, The Reverb Syndicate, The Rookers, Manpower, Ninety Pounds Of Ugly and Gun Smoke, to name a few. This will be his first art show in more than 20 years.

In today’s digital age, McDonald’s photos are shared across the Internet, from MySpace to Facebook. Never satisfied with aiming for the high-kick guitar poses coveted by bands for press kits, McDonald steers clear of commercial shots and appeals to the viewer with the artful “not-on” shots that tell a story. He focuses on the inaction he observes during the downtime before and after shows or songs.

“When I go to a show, I’m there from start to finish,” McDonald tells XPress, explaining how he compares to some professional photographers who show up to a gig long enough to take the required press picture and leave. His commitment is noticed by the musicians and comes through in his pictures. Like a hunter who waits patiently for the perfect moment to shoot, McDonald seizes upon the secret moments that others miss.

“The three seconds in between songs or when someone breaks a string and they’re not performing, or ‘on,’ that’s when you get pictures like mine,” he says.

McDonald catches private moments in public venues, exposing a side rarely seen. Over the years, he has become friends with many of his subjects, which has given him access to rehearsals, recordings and off-stage moments. These intimate settings have increased his understanding of the nature of Ottawa’s underground scene.

The exhibit photo of drummer-vocalist Angie Neatby (a.k.a. Angie the Barbarian from Ottawa’s Muffler Crunch), hunched over in a prayer-like pose at her drum kit, demonstrates McDonald’s talent for exposing the essence of public figures. He captures moments in which those performers, whom we perceive as powerful “rock stars,” feel their most vulnerable as they simultaneously drink in an audience’s appreciation and wonder if they possibly have any more to give.

It’s largely owing to McDonald’s own vulnerability that he can see it in others. His introspective approach has been a way for him to get over his innate shyness. Similar to someone who takes flying lessons to overcome his fear of flying, McDonald throws himself in front of the crowd and stage.

“Taking photos forces me to get out of the house,” he says. “Feeling compelled to do it overrides whatever fears I have [about crowds].”

Mick Rock, a rock photographer in the ’70s whose shutter transformed Iggy Pop, Lou Reed and the Sex Pistols into larger-than-life icons, said, “To survive as an artist, it helps if you psychologically have absolutely no option.”

McDonald quietly echoes that sentiment: “I have no choice,” he says. “Once I start taking pictures, I start getting more ideas and then it gets worse and worse.” Where most creative artists welcome the influx of ideas to nourish a fertile mind, McDonald says it can be frustrating because there are so many photos to take and so little time.

“I usually see pictures or I’ll get images in my head before I take them,” he explains. “Then I have to go and find them.”

Capturing the perfect shot is terrifying, and would probably mean stopping photography altogether if he ever accomplished the feat. His subjects, however, make that goal nearly unattainable. McDonald’s appreciation for Ottawa’s music scene owes much to the latter’s diversity, and every rock show allows him to catch a different atmosphere, moment or emotion. His dedication has nothing to do with securing a paycheque or achieving any kind of notoriety, but rather with simply beholding a captivating subject in an interesting light – and, more often, within a passing shadow.

Indie 613 at the Mercury Lounge begins March 16 and ends on March 23 with a live performance by Ottawa’s irreverent alt-country rockers The Bible All-Stars, and with Max Cossette of Six Six Six playing a solo “hillbilly” banjo set. Doors 9:30 p.m.

The unapologetic Mr. Menzies

Artist and former member of The Grey defends his decision to move

They say all good things come to an end. But for some, the end is just the beginning. Multimedia artist and musician Hayden Menzies has got everything it takes to conquer the art world – killer talent, a relentless muse and rock star good looks. But why does he have to leave Ottawa to make it worth his while?

“The time to leave is when things are at their best,” says Menzies. “I don’t want to get too comfortable.”

In the last year, Menzies’ career as a visual artist has been nothing short of explosive. Straight out of Concordia’s fine arts program, he had his first solo show, Home and Heroes, at Shanghai Restaurant. That was followed by back-to-back shows at the Buzz, the Mercury Lounge, La Petite Mort, Black Tomato and in art galleries in Montreal and Toronto. The works from those shows were hungrily snatched up.

Before he takes flight to Toronto, Menzies will be at Artguise showing his newest works, a collection of evocative paintings that combine graphic sensibility with a harmony of colours. Brandon McVittie, the gallery’s co-owner, chose to showcase Menzies’ solo exhibition for obvious reasons: “His painting is at a sophisticated and professional level that fits in with what our clientele are looking for – something fresh and compelling.”

In the book Chasing Cool: Standing Out in Today’s Cluttered Marketplace, authors Noah Kerner and Gene Pressman discovered that after interviewing more than 70 trendspotters and trendsetters, “cool” or becoming “the next big thing” had one simple ingredient – being true to your own vision.

One could argue that this freedom to just be and to express oneself beyond social norms and mainstream currency originates from the art world; it includes eclectic artist-types like Jackson Pollock and Jean-Michel Basquiat – not surprisingly, artists that inspire Menzies.

“They did stuff that looked like children’s scrawl on paper,” explains Menzies, “and people ate it up – and rightfully so, because their different point of view was unapologetic.”

Menzies’ mixed-media paintings borrow a lot from Basquiat’s aesthetic for all their semi-abstraction. Distorted figurative shapes, deliberately non-representational of human anatomy, are framed by earthy rich colours on canvas or board. But contrasted with Menzies’ self-assuredness is the glimpse of vulnerability that takes shape in his multilayered paintings titled Panic or Brotherhood. Themes of safety, security and belonging are reflected in signature-style images of houses, outstretched hands or animals; traces of the Alberto Giacometti and Egon Schiele sketch style pervade his works.

More than a modern painter, Menzies applies his art to silk-screening T-shirts, and in designs for show posters and album covers (Sleeping Pilot’s Panic Sex) that bear resemblance to Scott Sinclair’s artwork on A Flight and a Crash for Epitaph Records’ Hot Water Music. He also draws from Jordin Isip, as well as Jesse Reno’s popular art on skateboard, books and toys. Just as Basquiat didn’t discriminate in terms of the found objects he used to paint upon, and Isip and Reno liberate their art from fabric, so far Menzies confines his artwork to the traditional types of canvas or board.

It raises the question: Is there a risk that the interplay of graphic elements in the more traditional medium of painting distracts audiences from understanding his works?

“I’m not sure I care whether it adds or takes away what an audience wants to get out of my stuff,” he answers flatly.

The great consistency among Menzies’ works and a defined style that’s readable will ensure his lasting power. He’s not out to copy anyone. “My own personal aesthetic would overcome whatever I was trying to emulate,” he says, admitting that he hasn’t got his own niche completely figured out yet. “I’m still learning all the time,” he adds, “and I’m not afraid to show where my influences are.”

Fugazi for instance. Ottawa was once home base for his Fugazi-like post-punk band The Grey. (His new band, Metz, will take shape in Toronto.) His experience with that travelling band and his overall hangover from having lived in different countries with his family drive the point home that “there’s more stuff going on than in your own backyard.”

While Ottawa has been home to many musical talents, from hardcore gurus Buried Inside and Fuck The Facts to alt-country rockers Kathleen Edwards and Jim Bryson, the problem, according to Menzies, is that there are few extremes that might constitute “cutting edge” – that’s something he says he values as a creative person.

In part, that missing element has prompted his decision to move away. “I want to do more work,” he says, “and the reality is there are more opportunities in Toronto and they’re not going to come to me, I have to go to them.”

More opportunities might also mean not having to support your art by, for example, rolling bagels.

“The bagel shop insisted they couldn’t pay me until the bagels I had been rolling were up to snuff and sellable,” he explains about a job he once took to pay the rent. “After a couple of days, it looked like my bagels were as good as everyone’s, but they refused to pay me until my training period was done – a period that could last up to two weeks,” he says emphasizing the injustice. “So I quit.”

About his art, someone once said that “the measured and hazy nature of Menzies’ work points to a greater statement: that life is a progression of change and deterioration, vagaries and uncertainty.” If that is true, then Menzies’ kneecaps point to how he’ll navigate this ominous territory with a bit of humour: Under the right one is tattooed “free,” under the left, “bird.”

Like a walking canvas, his Lynyrd Skynyrd markings say it all. This baby was born to soar, and he’s not about to apologize for that.

New Works by Hayden Menzies at Artguise (590 Bank) begins on Friday, May 25, with a vernissage between 7:30 and 10:30 p.m., and runs until June 20. For more info on Menzies, visit www.haydenmenzies.com.

Jenn Farr is a hot wax mamma

In the April 5, 2007 issue of The Ottawa XPress, Sylvie boasted the buzz around Jenn Farr’s beeswax encaustic paintings.

You can see them at The Manx Pub (370 Elgin Street, Ottawa) from April 3 to May 3, 2007

XXX

After touring topless as part of the World Naked Bike Ride event in June 2005, it’s surprising that party girl, cookbook author and omnipresent activist Jenn Farr would be nervous about her first art show.

“This art makes me feel quite vulnerable,” Farr tells XPress. “It’s the ultimate part of me that I haven’t shared with people yet.”

She’ll be showing the works at the Manx Pub (370 Elgin Street) from April 3 to May 3. Read more…

– Sylvie Hill

HELL IS ‘ROUND THE CORNER

The devil’s in the detailing at Angie’s Ratt Restorations.

It’s easy to mistake Hull for hell sometimes. And where a fresh deer carcass dangles from a tree in the barren landscape that is the front yard of Ratt Restorations, XPress has indeed found the devil’s workshop sitting eerily at the bottom of a dead-end street across the river.

Tucked away inside with a cigarette in one hand and slugging back her beer with the other, is the farthest thing from a dead-end kind of woman. Meet DIY darling, Angie the Barbarian, frantically slaving away among her relics and tools and turning bad furniture into nasty furniture. She brings all you rockers, goths and dirty pigs only the finest in retro-rockabilly, hot rod-inspired décor.

“This shit you’re not gonna buy on any ol’ Tuesday,” Angie cajoles.

As if there’s a better time to buy what you really wanted for Christmas. Yeah, how about a ’70s-era retro coffee table painted black with flames, complete with Ratt Restorations’ signature Pure Hell lettering copped from a custom-made Californian hot rod motorcycle she fell in love with in a bike mag.

Her li’l shop o’ horrors is packed full of demonic accessories like mutilated doll heads, sacrilegious paraphernalia, a priest’s robe, a Quebec police car door, a Certificate of Slavery from GWAR and everything else you could ever need to stage that Rob Zombie cover band.

“There’s a part of me that lives in a post-apocalyptic sort of Mad Max universe where I’m just this fucking barbarian eunuch that marches through the fucking sand dunes and the fucking snow,” she tells XPress with a voice rowdier than the Reverend Beatman & The Unbelievers she bought from Birdman‘s Jon Westhaver when he delivered on Angie’s CD request for “a guy screaming about hell.”

We’ve got a live one here, folks – a psychotic blend of raw, abandoned primitive energy, savage garage punk style, and crazed psychobilly madness.

It’s the maniacal music, and all the death and stench of incense, grease and burning logs in the wood stove, worn-in Persian rugs and a lived-in couch that distinguish Angie’s workshop-garage from your usual hip and perky workshop-boutiques in downtown Ottawa.

GUTTING THE FAMILY GARAGE

Formerly known as H.D. Garage, this Hull shop was once a full-on classic car and motorcycle restoration garage, owned and operated independently by Angie’s dad, Barry Brown. He attracted many fans to this place, including Wayne Rostad, Jay Leno (in his Doritos days) and a lot of Gatineau police officers.

Brown was considered the town nutter.

“My dad always had Frank Zappa blasting all fucking night and shit,” Angie remembers.

“I had my weekly fucking music lesson, he’d be a little bit snapped and go, ‘I’m going to explain the imagery of this fucking Chieftains song to you right now! Picture a train! Going full speed!’ And I’m like ‘yes yes,’ but I was, like, into My Little Ponies then… If only I could turn back time and appreciate it now.”

Angie’s taken over the garage in the tradition of her dad’s independent, “take no shit” spirit, keeping things legit and working by her own watch. The result is furniture that’s brought back to life with a rusty true love. (It’s fitting that True Love is the title of her first CD from her band Muffler Cruncher, which she describes as a “fucking rock duo on crack.”)

Inspired by motorcycle culture, booze and rock and roll, she restores the devil’s rejects – stuff people throw out. Take for instance the forgotten telephone tables she reupholstered in a pink alligator leatherette blazer she stuffed down her pants at the Salvation Army.

These “tuff tables,” along with “lewd lighting,” the “badass Inebriation Station” liquor cabinet, “charming chairs” like the “Get Yo’ Ass Outta the Kitchen” series, and “diabolical dressers” make up the Pure Hell line.

For the Discerning Goth line, there’s mirror-top tables and the “Devil’s Plaything” piece that has real vertebrae handles and drawers, “perfect for the BDS community for putting implements in,” she says.

Angie creates furniture for people who are going to use it and appreciate it, like rockers.

“Rock and rollers don’t have a lot of money – that’s a fact. But I want to sort of help their mythology, know what I’m saying? If they could have that in their living room to put their beers on, that’d be great… some Pierre Berton book, ya know?”

DELIVER ME FROM L.L. BEAN

Angie’s entrepreneurial, DIY spirit is as loud as her outfits and outrageous as the burps between guzzles of brew. This means she’s got a full inventory ready to roll. She also does custom. “If you have a vision for a piece, a saying you guys share together or a funny inside joke,” she says, she can do it up. She’s quite moved about personalizing the pieces. She likes to get to know her customers.

Her first major sale was to a big stripper in Vanier who was looking for something original for her boyfriend, who is in a heavy-metal cover band here in Ottawa. “Picture Pamela Anderson – all in pink, big hat – fuck, she was awesome! I could have put her in my museum! She’s like, ‘I’ll take that and that,’ pointing. She loads the huge fucking table into a fucking cab with the big-ass rocking chair. She was so fun – FUN – man! That’s the kind of chick that I like to hang out with sometimes, someone with a frikken spirit on her.”

A lot of her business so far has come directly from the Internet and by word of mouth. Her wares sell for between $75 and $400, but she’s a bio-exorcist at heart. “Like Beetlejuice up on a hilltop squeezing his balls,” she says, “I want to be that kind of saleswoman with my shit, know what I mean? All fucking yeehooooo! let’s make a deal, zany and shit!!”

She’s all about keeping it real in sales and with people. “That is the fucking man of my dreams, right there,” Angie screams, pointing to a picture of herself with Oderus Urungus, lead singer of GWAR. “He does what he feels and he speaks from the heart. And he likes to spew blood, which is also good.”

Angie digs blood, too. She describes skinning the blood-soaked deer (the one on the cover) as a “weird spiritual fucking moment” that was comically intensified by Stompin’ Tom’s “Mule Skinner Blues” coming on the stereo just at the time she was staring into the sad, sad eyeballs remaining, and then ripping Bambi’s face right off.

“I want people to feel fucking happy and have fun and be at peace with shit like gross-out death, and embrace it like something almost beautiful.”

Not afraid of the dark, the devil, death or success, there is one thing that scares the shit out of Angie: ending up watching plasma screen TV in Barrhaven.

“You know, big TV, pastel-coloured walls and the two little Bichon Frise dogs – fuck that. That’s a nightmare to me, man, oh God.”

Visit Ratt Restorations at www.rattrestorations.com and arrange a tour, view furniture online or order Angie’s zines (I Hate Latte Drinkers, Fuckin’ Loons, or She Was Debbie Gibson… I Was Martina, featured in Broken Pencil magazine). If you have a commercial retail space or are a retro bar and wish to feature a Ratt Restorations piece, or if you’re Big Jesus Truck and need an opener, e-mail Angie at philodoxa@yahoo.com.

– Sylvie Hill

In 2001, I self-published a book of spoken word poetry called Hoxton Square Circles: Starfucking Tales of Sexless One-Night Stands. I didn’t have a clue about bar codes and ISBN numbers or anything else about publishing for that matter. I quickly recruited some fledgling graphic designers, sent the book to press, put out a CD, set up a book launch, did a lot of postering, had a film crew on site, and later distributed copies in stores.

Three years hence, I’m still paying off the line of credit used to finance the book and there are no new recruits to the Starfucker Press label. It wasn’t for a lack of interest–I just didn’t know how to finance or legally represent other writers. Number crunching showed I was actually losing money on every book I sold. And, after a contractual catastrophe with a Toronto artist whose sketches were about to go in my book, I realized without a good set of balls and the legal savvy to manage your talent and work, as an artist you’re up shit’s creek.

Yet along with this harsh reality came a lingering suspicion: Had I been more deeply rooted in a community of artists during my self-publishing experiment, I would surely have been more connected and, therefore, more educated about my rights and options. I would have had some helpful company while paddling up shit’s creek.

To test the strength of my theory in the pages of Guerilla, I spoke recently with a broad range of Ottawa artists–writers, zine-makers and photographers, visual artists and musicians–to find out what they knew about promoting their work locally. I wanted to hear about the pitfalls and challenges they have faced in self-promotion and, in the process, perhaps discover what makes an arts community helpful and supportive, and what makes it poisonous and debilitating.

A little help from your friends
My first lesson centred on the huge role community plays in encouraging and supporting art in Ottawa. This means that when it comes self-promotion, a friendly, sociable and genuine personality often wins the day.

“People who care about culture encourage others to keep bringing out things that are new and fresh,” says Rolf Klausener, The Acorn band front man and Recoilers bassist. “A sense of community is crucial to an artist’s development. Where people are aware of each other, it urges you on. It’s an energizing atmosphere. It’s competitive in a way, but as long as you feel you’re doing something good and not contrived, people will support it.”

So community rocks. But can you get too much of a good thing? When does community bleed into clique?

According to Drew the Drunken Dragon, promoter of the now defunct Spoken Word Broken Brushes, the key aspects of a community are individuals with inspiration and vision and how they hang out. “Cliques are uncool because of their exclusionary element. Part of art to me is openness and not about closing off,” Drew says. “It’s about sharing. It’s not about stodgy intellectuals who want to laugh amongst themselves,” he says.

Matthew Firth, Black Bile Press and Front & Centre litzine writer, takes it further: He can’t stand self-centered, egomaniacal writers. “There are already too many in this land, too many everywhere. 99% of the time I’d rather have a beer with the guys I play hockey with than with other writers I know.”

Neither Drew nor Matthew digs that air of superficial intelligence or superiority. “If you have powers, share them,” says Drew very diplomatically. “Don’t stand on a podium.”

And what about Ottawa’s literary world? Are “doing something good,” being kind, and producing some genuine art the keys to success here too? In my writing endeavours I’ve certainly come across some very helpful scribes such as Suki Lee (WestFest lit curator) or Kris Northey and Pierre Ringwald (founders of Step Up Slam), or Nth Degree and Megan Butcher. Their enthusiasm and down-to-earth approach are very cultivating. Events organized by these and other writers help shape and encourage the writing community–events such as Poattica, so named because it is held in the attic belonging to Wanda O, a 2004 CBC Poetry Face-Off participant.

“It’s competitive in a way. But as long as you feel you’re doing something good and not contrived, people will support it.”

Making a fat-ass impact in a face-value kinda town
When I reviewed Howie Tsui’s paintings more than a year ago for Toronto’s now defunct art magazine, Lola, I was blown away not only by his art, but also by his determination and assertive self promotion.

Shrewd as he is, Tsui had no stories about getting screwed over due to a lack of marketing savy or poor self-promotion. But he did have some input on the challenges of making what he calls a “fat ass impact” in Ottawa.

“The strength of the work speaks for itself, and if you’ve got some hype shit, word will get around and the local media and curators may get interested,” Howie says. His formula is simple. He suggests artists should try “working like a neurotic maniac on your art and worrying about business cards later.”

But aside from building a stellar collection of works to show, Howie acknowledges that personality traits can also be crucial to self-promotion success: “If you’re pretty introverted and shy, it may be tricky meeting people, making aesthetic links and discussing art with your peers. If you’re sociable but aggressive and creepy, that might not be too good either.”

Artist Jennifer Whiteford, a DIY queen and creator of Matildazine.org, is the furthest thing from creepy and she happens to agree with Howie: “I’m not sure if this is true in lots of other cities or what, but I think you have to be very social to be a successful artist in Ottawa.” Being obscure and mysterious would not help here much because Ottawa is a “very face-value kind of town,” says Jennifer.

Jennifer was greatly encouraged by people such as Jim Munroe, he of the Perpetual Motion Roadshow and Ladyfest. Other cultivators who give golden opportunities to literary artists include the TREE reading series, Nichole McGill’s durtygurls events and Jeffrey Ross’s Subterran reading series.

Sweet Kharma and helping hands
For an artist just starting out, such as 22-year-old Ashley Stevens, “it’s about being in the right place at the right time,” she says.

Not long ago, Ashley was featured in a CBC report about making it as an artist in Ottawa. And since then, it has been a relatively smooth ride for this former Canterbury High School student. Even before high-school graduation she was commissioned to do a series of paintings for Kanata’s posh Brook Street Hotel.

In addition to the good fortune which landed her the hotel gig (which featured12 paintings of her pierced and tattooed friends), Stevens has made many important connections at her place of employment, the Mud Oven clay studio. Here Ashley was approached by JC Sulzenko, author of the children’s book Fat poems Tall poems Long poems Small. Sulzenko hired Stevens to create illustrations for the book.

“It’s all about kharma,” Ashley told me nonchalantly over breakfast. “What goes around comes around. I really haven’t come across anyone who hasn’t been a helping person.”

Sounds great. But is Ashley in for a rude awakening?

No more Mr. Nice Guy, hello DIY
Aside from being uber-talented, super nice, having a mentor and letting some things fall into your lap, getting your art out there often requires one other thing: good old fashioned hard work. But once you get it out there, then what? Earning a living by actually selling work is another matter entirely.

Even if you’ve produced tons of material, Tsui points out, “Who the hell are you going to promote your work to in this town–the handful of lame ass commercial galleries in the Market who sell landscapes to tourists and take a 50% cut?” Tsui feels Ottawa fares poorly when compared to the markets in Europe, and even Toronto.

There are similarities in the literary world, for instance, where most booksellers take a 40% cut of your book sales no matter where you live. 2002 CBC Poetry Face-Off champ and author of Shock Therapy, Matt Peake had a little fun explaining his own “screwjob by Chapters” when trying to market and sell his book in Ottawa through the book chain: “They wanted 80% of all receipts and wouldn’t stock the book unless I put a picture of Dr. Phil on the cover and packaged it with a World Music CD they could play repeatedly in Starbucks to demonstrate Seattle’s international flavour.”

Matt may be exaggerating for effect, but not by much. Depending on the accessibility of your art, there simply may not be a huge audience for it in Ottawa.

“Edgy stuff or work inspired by artists from a dense metropolis with a thriving subcultural community doesn’t register within the consciousness or aesthetic tastes of a majority of Ottawa,” says Howie. “The cliché of a conservative town surely holds true.”

Visual artist Diana Gaunt is another creative person helping to push boundaries but she too has come up against that conservative limitation. In 2003, Gaunt made her own nude body the subject of a photography exhibit called “Exposed.” Though the work was startling and well received, she, like many visual artists, had to utilize a local pub for exhibiting space.

“When I showed at the Manx Pub, obviously it’s a public space and it’s not really a private gallery of any kind. But because it was a pub, I figured generally speaking, everyone is 17 or older ”¦however, out of the nine shots in the show, only six could be shown.”

Another resourceful visual artist, Tanja Handa–whose works are literally pages from her personal, visual diary–recently made use of an even more unconventional venue: Her parents’ travel agency located in the Sparks Street Mall.

“I thought that the travel agency would work against me,” said Tanja. “This is no-man’s land. No one has shown at a travel agency before.” Handa’s bold foray led to the sale of many pieces in the show. (The modest success, however, didn’t change Handa’s plan to leave Ottawa this fall. She’s now in Switzerland.)

“Who the hell are you going to promote your work to in this town–the handful of lame ass commercial galleries in the Market who sell landscapes to tourists and take a 50% cut?”

Selling out, or just plain selling?
What is selling out versus earning a living? It’s a fine line.

For her part, Gaunt is not shy about charging the right price for her photographic works. “You have to value yourself as an artist,” she says. “If you underestimate your place, well, you have to sell it for what it’s worth. It’s a lot of time and effort.” Gaunt explains that she may spend an entire day in the darkroom and still come out with a lousy print. So, when she’s crafted a good one, it’s worth the price tag.

If sales are not paying the bills, the pursuit of grants and other funding can certainly help, but Firth is not a big fan of the funding frenzy. He simply doesn’t think that getting grants and funding makes a good writer. “Just because the Canada Council is here in Ottawa is no reason to go lusting after that tit; don’t start thinking that an artist is only someone who gets a fucking grant and quits their day job and removes him/herself from the real world and starts writing or producing masturbatory rubbish.”

Matt recognizes he may sound a bit harsh, so he clarifies: “I just mean, get your head out of your arse and stop trying to get government funding for what you’re doing. Stop trying to latch on to the government nipple and suck and suck. Make what you do viable on its own terms, make it viable for other reasons besides financial ones.”

But without public assistance, is it even possible to earn a living in a city which, according to Howie Tsui, so undervalues its local art? “It’s somewhat disheartening to see people flinch at a $200 price tag of an eight by 10 inch original painting, when in other Canadian cities you could fetch double.”

In music circles, says Steve Palmer of The Setbacks, “People don’t buy records or attend shows just because the band has a killer record alone… they need to let people know that their records is the best thing since sliced bread. But that costs money, a lot of money. Local Ottawa bands don’t have those kinds of monster budgets to compete with mainstream artists,” he notes.

Palmer’s suggestion: “You need to work creatively with the funds and resources you have,” including low-cost activities such as postering, getting your name out on the right web sites, and getting your album into the hands of community radio DJs.

Sandra Abi-Aad knows how challenging it can be to get yourself out there. The visual artist and SAW Gallery president feels “there is a moral crisis happening in the creative sector between making art and making a living. The two are very different and few have what it takes to do both. A lot of talented creators get left behind because they simply cannot think business or choose not to.”

MAKING IT IN OTTAWA
All in all, the artists I spoke with didn’t think Ottawa was so bad a place to be an artist. Many local problems are merely the pitfalls of being an artist anywhere. And on the flipside, Ottawa has some benefits perhaps not easily attained in other places.

Chris Saracino was one of the co-founders and principals of Cleerance.co Northern Electronic, the Canadian electronic label that put out internationally acclaimed records by Chameleonic, Rise Ashen, and Monodeluxe. Chris is also drummer for The Setbacks. He says: “I think Ottawa is a great breeding ground for artists, and it can be a great place to start your career.” But, there are limits: “There are only so many people that you can hit up here before you have to migrate.”

MINDING YOUR MANNERS AND ART-BUSINESS PROTOCOL
So where does all the foregoing leave me and my theory? By talking to many artists, I learned what I knew I had to learn: That remaining active (and socially active) in the arts community is essential to your development as an artist. That being artful or creative in your business approach is key.

And the strong reliance on peer support and respect confirmed my hunch that just like we have table manners and bedroom manners, we also have artworld manners. Feed the culture that feeds you and you’ll do fine in the Capital.

Practically speaking, legal and financial savvy wouldn’t hurt either. But where to begin? Let me conclude with an extremely handy list compiled by Sandra Abi-Aad featuring 10 simple things artists can do in a town where venues, market price, integrity, talent, and most importantly–community–are all key factors in successful artistic self promotion:

Ten Ways to Conquer Ottawa
by Sandra Abi-Aad

1. Have enough courage and self-confidence to take your work public and to be held.accountable should you succeed. Once people see and appreciate your work, there may be an expectation which can become overwhelming.

2. Be aware that once you become ambitious the perception can develop that you have “sold out” in some way.

3. Realize that art is 10 per cent art making and 90 per cent promotion.

4. Ottawa in particular has a very insular creative community, which can be a tough nut to crack.

5. Make sure you get recognition for your work when it’s used–it’s your calling card and can be more profitable than money.

6. If business is not your cup of tea, get a lawyer (via legal aid) to help you out.

7. Join CARFAC, a visual artist union.

8. Never do business without a contract, even with friends.

9. Verify who will own the copyright on your product. It is surprising how copyright law can work for or against you.

10. Make sure there are clauses in all contracts that protect you–especially when it comes to getting paid! Insert a clause that requires the client to pay interest on late payments, or one that states that the product does not get delivered until the last payment is received. And, there is absolutely nothing wrong with advance payment.

– Sylvie Hill

Come to Where I’m From: shelter residents paint their space in art.

The Mission Hospice in Ottawa is unique to North America in that it happens to be attached to a shelter for the homeless. The Hospice makes it possible for vulnerable individuals in our community to find comfort and care in the last days of their lives.

When it was built, the intention was to create a “place to call home,” an environment that was both lively and comforting for their clients, and by their clients. While the men and women who fill the 14 beds of the hospice do not have long to live, the goal was, in the meantime, to have them live extremely well and in dignity.

With the generous support of the The Samuel and Saidye Bronfman Family Foundation, The Mission turned to the local arts community to help transform the entrance of their new Hospice into something warm and inviting. With the help of local artists, Pao Quang Yeh and Sandra Abi-Aad, the hallway has now become an interesting walk-thru of colour, powerful images and inspiration.

Yeh and Abi-Aad, both graduates of the University of Ottawa Fine Arts program, facilitated the creation of five photographic images (25″ x 35″) with The Mission clients over an eight-week period. Art classes with clients were based on respect and creativity to help enable the five Hospice/LifeSkills members to explore their own personal landscape through art.

The LifeSkills Program has been running for 10 years at The Mission and treats 15 participants to six months of rehabilitation for drug, alcohol and gambling addictions. The eightweek art classes introduced into the program are a first of their kind for The Mission.

Art Process
Yeh and Abi-Aad used a variety of free-flow and word-association exercises to encourage the men to think about their own personal spaces. Each of the five students then crafted a landscape using art supplies donated by the artists themselves and through the generous support of The Samuel and Saidye Bronfman Family Foundation grant.

With paint and coloured pencils, The Mission students created landscape backdrops of fiery sunsets, bright yellow skies and dark blue celestial universes. Next, they positioned tiny objects such as army figurines, animals, felt teepees, and in one instance, a miniature bedroom suite against the backdrops. This created three-dimensional maquettes or models of Vietnam war scenes, nature and native settlements, farms and a bedroom setting. They were then photographed by Yeh and Abi-Aad and framed.

Janet St. Jean, Director of Development at The Mission, attributed much of the project’s success to the professionalism and flexibility of the arts facilitators. St. Jean beams with enthusiasm and appreciation when she thinks of local artists Yeh and Abi-Aad, and their belief and interest in the project.

When asked to describe the experience Pao Quang Yeh stressed: “this was not art therapy. We were there to provide tools and share skills with them. It wasn’t instructional. If you wanted your apple to be purple, that’s ok, make it purple!” It explains why horses have big white eyes and skies are a bright yellow!

Trudging Through the Landscape
The Hospice with its palliative care unit as well as the Mission serve the needs of homeless men, women and children. Knowing that The Mission clients travel from one place to another, Yeh also knew each must carry with them some story that should be told. At the onset of the project, Yeh and Abi-Aad spent time walking through the buildings and talking to some guests. Both were compelled to ask the question, “what does it mean to be in a space?”

Pao Quang Yeh expressed that the objective was to get these men to reflect upon their own space and translate those feelings and thoughts in any way they wanted to through art. In one case, instead of painting scenery, one gentleman named Robert Mercer wrote out his feelings in a most powerful testimony that was moving in its honesty and touching in its humility.

It read: “My name is Robert Mercer and I am feeling inbarrassed do to the fact I can’t do whats required of me, I don’t mine being here, but I don’t know where I stand has far has having talent, I do believe there is something there, but ‘I’ always seem to get in the way ”¦”

Yeh admits the work can be taxing emotionally and there is a lot to juggle. Not all participants stick with the program and so it takes the help of a very dedicated facilitator and visual artist like Abi-Aad to make it happen, says Yeh.

Local Arts Programs
Pao Quang Yeh, who works as a Facilitator and Visual Artist for the City of Ottawa’s Community Arts Program, explains that local arts programs offered by the City emerged in the last 4 years. The idea was to link professional artists with the community and make art accessible to everyone of any socio-economic status and ability.

City of Ottawa arts programs are many and varied, he explains, ranging from getting well known writers to read at community centres and involving individuals with special needs or disabilities in modern dance explorations of the self to guiding and facilitating groups in art and drama. “Art should be for everyone,” he says.

An extension of his day job with the City of Ottawa, Yeh admits that The Mission Art Project was a personal project outside, and on top of his 9 to 5 duties. This dedication and drive has seen many other art initiatives succeed in countries such as the
UK.

As part of UK Accents in 1999, the British Council invited a Welsh Community Arts group to Ottawa to introduce their “Rock School” to the Nation’s Capital. In Wales, the group brings music to disadvantaged and under-privileged youth by visiting local council estate housing projects. Musical instruments are donated to the youth to use over the course of a weekend.

Their efforts are then showcased in the form of a rock concert at the end of the weekend. The question posed to the Welsh group about follow up work to community arts projects applies equally to The Mission Art Project as well. Now that the hospice entrance is beautifully decorated with quality art, what next?

Maybe it’s enough to note that some shelter clients are already referring to the Hospice hallway with the 5 colour photographs as “The Mission Art Gallery.” In all 5 cases there has been strong interest in purchasing the art, but some like James express their strong allegiance to The Mission and insist that their artistic oeuvres remain always at the Ottawa shelter they call home.

This permanent display at The Mission Hospice entrance reflects the unique expression of five individuals who have lived varied lives. Janet St. Jean smiles thoughtfully: “the art allows us to have an inside look at them.”

And while the Hospice hallway is not open to the public, the opportunity to volunteer or support The Mission is always there. More, it is Yeh’s hope is that this project will spark further interest in making the arts accessible to all in the community.

Special thank you to the following organizations for their generous donations and support:

The Samuel and Saidye Bronfman Family Foundation
City of Ottawa, Community Arts Program
Eurocopies & Printing
Calabria Restaurant & Pizzeria
Emerald Bakery
The Manx
Boko Bakery
Sanjay Mohanta

– Sylvie Hill