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Articles. Art. Music. More. The Ink is some stuff we found—or found interesting—recently.
Recently on The Squid
by James O. and Peter B. — I tapped the brakes, and the car shuddered, and died. I looked at James. Oh shit. I looked at the dash. All the lights were off. Oh shit. Our mouths hung open, lips frozen in two big, silent Os. Then I swerved the car right, into the wall of semis.
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“Quebec’s New French Revolution” by Mark Mann
Julian: The cover of last month’s Maclean’s was a photo of downtown Montréal at sunset. Plastered across the top in whimsical font, ”Farewell to Quebec”. Inside, the associated story—about the resurgence of linguistic tensions in Québec as a result of the current provincial government—was not quite so whimsical. Mann writes a concise but comprehensive survey of the recent language drama, approached from his unique perspective: an Anglo-Canadian who fell in love with Montréal while here for school, learned French, and eventually returned to build a life here. This was a trajectory I once dreamed of, and thought myself on. Not so much these days. Mann nimbly situates the headlines in the history, and pits the narratives against the facts. But more than that, he frames the debate through the unique lens of his life, and suggests not only what Québec as a society, but also we as individuals, stand to lose when the government stokes identity politics. Whether you need an introduction to the topic, or you too find yourself navigating the front lines, I recommend checking this piece out. If you’re unable to access the article online, you’re welcome to borrow my print copy.
Julian: For the past 18 months or so, I’ve had the pleasure of being involved at Mai/son, an arts organization and space in the Mile End. Late last year, we began producing a quarterly zine featuring poetry, writing, photography, art, and more from contributors in our community. I’m very proud of the work our team has done, and impressed by the variety and talent of our contributors. Our second edition, organized around the theme of Inner/Outer Space, launched on Saturday night! Unfortunately, it’s not available online yet, but in the meantime, you can check out our first edition from January of this year! I’m particularly a fan of Jacob’s “Reflections on Music as Service”, Fiona’s interview with Ura Star, and Miguel’s work on his project Fluid Bonds.
2024 Pulitzer Prize Winners and Finalists
Roman: Scrolling through the list of winners and finalists of the Pulitzer Prize makes me feel like a kid in a candy shop, only that instead of candy, it’s exceptional journalism. This year’s winners include: Propublica, for its investigation into the billionaire-funded vacations and gifts received by sitting Supreme Court justices; Sarah Stillman, for her reporting on the felony murder laws, and Hannah Dreir, whose work on U.S. child migrant labor we recommended in the February 2023 edition of the Ink. Take a look!
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Peter: Show report: The upscale warehouse space was packed, half the Mile End present to witness the unhinged, trash-beauty puppetry of Poncili Créacion. Amid familiar faces, we descended into the unknown. The troupe was composed of twins Efraín and Pablo Del Hierro, hailing from the “soon-not-to-be colony of Puerto Rico,” as well as local musicians who provided improvised accompaniment. The Del Hierro twins worked quickly to implicate the audience in the ensuing madness, imploring us to scream, to hyper-ventilate, and to revel in the sacrificial slaughter of a defenseless (puppet) dog. The puppets, colourful, expressive, constructed of soft foam, were also grimy, and frequently dismembered (the performance evinced a hunger, and the twins often could not resist biting large chunks off the puppets, all while making deranged eye-contact with the audience, nodding fervently, demanding our complicity). The lunacy escalated after a two story dragon pushed its way through the crowd, only to be rent limb from limb. From within it emerged a creature with wild eyes and a large penis, who proceeded to perform auto-fellatio. The twins bounced and flopped, grinned and grimaced, swinging erratically from impish glee to child-like anger. The climactic moment I will keep secret, but just ask your friends. The surprise was bottomless. After this experience, I think I’ll seek out more puppet shows and performance art; it commanded my attention, my entire body — a total rollercoaster!
Roman: My recommendation this week: go see a show at your local comedy club. On Saturday, my partner and I went to Le Terminal, a comedy club in the Plateau Mont-Royal, for a one hour show with five franco comedians. It was a soirée rodage, where the comedians tested out their newest material. Each performer had a different style – some worked the crowd, others laid out elaborate and hilarious set pieces – but the raw talent on display was impressive across the board. We laughed, a lot, and I left feeling a little awe-struck by the performances that night: getting on a stage in front of a room full of strangers and actually making them laugh - hot damn! That’s awesome (and it takes serious kahoonas).
Ripley (Netflix)
Peter: I watched the TV show Ripley over the past few weeks. A fan of the 90s movie, I absolutely adored this rendition of the tale. Based originally on the Patricia Highsmith novels, this limited series weaves a moody, tense, and darkly humorous narrative of murder, deceit, and repression. A small-time con man in New York (played by the sexy priest from Fleabag) finds himself in luck after a rich man mistakes him for his son’s friend; he is sent to Italy to convince the son, who is galavanting as a wayward artist on the Amalfi Coast, to return to America and begin a respectable life among the elite. But his initial opportunism gives way to darker urgings amid a deepening obsession with the son, Dickie, and his unearned leisure. The show’s 1950s setting, stunning black and white cinematography, and noire sensibilities are an absolute pleasure, and the scripting and acting are exceedingly good — a few particularly tense and tightly choreographed sequences had me literally gaping in awe. The plot at times requires a certain suspension of disbelief — but I did so willingly! At eight hour-long episodes, the show is a bit of a slow burn, but it burns hot.
Listen
James: Hello, Ink readers! I’m in Japan for the next two weeks and have found it hard to find time to read or watch anything I would recommend. There’s just too much to see here! But… I will share a few songs I’ve heard while at restaurants and stores.
A Japanese man singing in a sound-system style over a reggae track from 2005? Japan truly has everything. I overheard this song while sitting at a bar in Kyoto. The owner is a big reggae fan and would just play track after track of R&B and reggae songs from Japanese artists.
I Shazam’d this song while at a thrift store in Kyoto. I can only describe it as a highly produced rock song with a vocalist singing in Japanese in a really really high voice. It’s awesome. I’ve listened to it on loop while walking around.
Kind of Jazzy, kind of indie, this song was from another thrift store in Kyoto (lots of good music and well dressed people there—which tend to go together). If you like this song, check out TOMOO’s other tracks like “Ginger” and “Grapefruit Moon.”