Sunday, September 21, 2008

oh winnipeg

If only a city could be a lover, I would pick you.

Curled in on the cement steps of Oodena, the ironic backdrop of the Asper institute shining in the distance, I am left feeling settled, disturbed and at home within the atmosphere of opening night.

And that is just it. This city, full of painful irony and beautiful repulsiveness somehow gives way to [for lack of a better word] magic. Almost addictive in its elusiveness.

I keep trying to grab at it/whatever it is/ this obsession I have with this ridiculously imperfect city. And just like the authors tonight, I am often left struggling with just what words and stories to use to convey these intimate, deeply rooted feelings.

What I loved so much about these five, very diverse writers, was their honest commitment to trying to find something, at least one thing, to name and hold onto as a way to frame what it means to be here/to exist in this “one great city”.

And whether it was the work of Jordan Wheeler, Chandra Mayor and nereO Eugenio; passionate dialogue infused with a politically critical lens, or the work of Carol Matas and Marc Prescott which carried a lighter but equally as intimate tone, opening night was made up of writers being asked to pull out pieces of themselves that felt something, anything, towards this little prairie town.

And nothing makes me happier then people sitting around, talking about Winnipeg.

* * *

Courtney Slobogian likes to sit quietly memorizing all of the reasons she is in love with this city. She graduated from University of Winnipeg in 2007 with her BA in Women’s and Gender studies. Her honours thesis was entitled “mother[loss]: An exploration of our silences in grief and longing.”

She is putting that degree to use mostly by insisting that there is a need for theory in everything. Along with writing academic papers for fun, she finds herself constantly playing with poetry (where it is desire, and not theory, that she finds most useful).

By day she busies herself with women’s reproductive health issues, by night she rides her bike.

Video: Voices from Oodena

Tonight was opening night of THIN AIR 2008.

Unlike last year, and, according to Tanya, spouse of Perry, the year before, this year's Voices from Oodena actually was IN the Oodena.

I'm not sure precisely what an Oodena is, but I like saying it. Oodena. Oodena.

The night was lovely.



My favorite things about the evening, aside from the readings (amply covered by Courtney and, I think, Jay) were the swarms.

The children who moved over the stony bony ribs and shoulders that surrounded the amphitheatre. The late summer mosquitoes immediately over our heads, interspersed with midges, and the gulls in the airspace over that.

The children who rolled bony bonelessly down the hill while Marc Prescott talked about a kiss that would sum up a lifetime of kisses, one lover to another. The rabbit that quivered in the orange light while Chandra Mayor read of Ms. Purdy's and gin and then started nosing the late summer grass immediately next to Opening Night spectators.

The air, both warm and cool. The words, rising from the grass, from the centre of the amphitheatre.

THIN AIR.

Behind the Scenes #2: Perry Grosshans, GM

Or, More Musing from Behind the Scenes of Opening Night.

Opening Night is not that stressful, really. It's only the weather which is the crap shoot. And tonight we rolled sevens!

Beautiful clear night, with a bit of breeze to keep most of the mosquitoes away, and warm, warm, warm like early Fall should be.

So, outside event at the Oodena Ceremonial Circle. Cool. Chairs for the audience will be the surrounding hillside and stairs. All we need is a sound system, a few chairs for the readers and greeters, and an extension of the lamp I brought for the podium. No problem.

The Forks maintenance guys arrive at 5:40 and proceed to tell me they've never set up the sound system before.

Heart does a little skip.

But then one says, "Wait, I think I remember Andrew showing me these cords here," and they proceed to plug and play. Thankfully, they get it working. Yay!

We string cords across and around the sacred central circle, set up the wobbly podium ("Yeah," the other says, "We're waiting for it to break to build a new one." Nice.) But it all looks great. The Forks guys pull through! Yay!

Bert Johnson, a friend of Charlene's, is a sound whiz and somehow turns some dials and makes the whole damn thing sound quite amazing and loud enough. Really great sound this year, thanks to Bert, and thanks to the five readers who literally ate the mic to talk into it.

After its over, everyone scatters, but I gotta stay to guard the system before the Forks guys can come back to clean up. It's over, but Lift Off has been achieved.

Tomorrow, I set up the Mainstage...I love it.

Flickr-ing: opening night 5


IMG00308.jpg, originally uploaded by hotair.2008.

A photo of the video of the festival.
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Flickr-ing: opening night 4


IMG00305.jpg, originally uploaded by hotair.2008.

Our set up at the oodena...
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Flickr-ing: opening night 3


IMG00304.jpg, originally uploaded by hotair.2008.

Tanya - the partner of Perry - and her magnificent earrings and the magnificent night.
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Flickr-ing: opening night 2


IMG00303.jpg, originally uploaded by hotair.2008.

Bert Johnson, sound guy cum jazz pianist, setting up opening night.
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Flickr-ing: opening night 1


IMG00302.jpg, originally uploaded by hotair.2008.

Perry in the gleam of his week of the fest rental...
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Intro: Courtney Slobogian

There is this sense that Winnipeg is constantly keeping secrets. But not the kind of secrets that spread around high schools and make kids hide in bathroom stalls or drive in around in their Ford tempos instead of going to class.

No, it’s more like Winnipeg keeps the kinds of secrets that are aching to be told / secrets that keep you moving through the seasons / secrets that you carry around in your back pocket / secrets that give way to smiling shyly at strangers or leaving a nice note on the napkin at your favourite breakfast spot for the server.

Winnipeg keeps secrets that remind you it is alive.

That’s what this years festival feels like for me. It is my very first year partaking in this wondrous event. And while I am partly very ashamed of this fact, I am treating it like a secret. Now clearly it is not exactly a secret.

And I wasn’t even sure I was going to admit to you that I had never been to the festival before (“does this make me less legitimate?!” I asked myself in a panic). But I have decided it will be our little adventure together.

Are you in?

As I tip toe through the festival with fresh eyes and a relentless curiosity of what this Winnipeg secret holds, I will share with you what it feels like to uncover the festival for the very first time.

I have been writing academically for a long time, but have only begun to own up to myself and others that I am in fact, a writer. Whatever the heck that means.

As I hesitantly embrace this new identity it excites me to be able to dive into a community of established, as well as newer writers, and take part in a week of work and play dedicated to the love of words.

Oh and I sure do love words.

It’s time to fall into the week, and see where I come out at the end of it all. The best part is that I get to take you along for the ride.

Talk to you soon!

* * *

Courtney Slobogian likes to sit quietly memorizing all of the reasons she is in love with this city. She graduated from University of Winnipeg in 2007 with her BA in Women’s and Gender studies. Her honours thesis was entitled “mother[loss]: An exploration of our silences in grief and longing.”

She is putting that degree to use mostly by insisting that there is a need for theory in everything. Along with writing academic papers for fun, she finds herself constantly playing with poetry (where it is desire, and not theory, that she finds most useful).

By day she busies herself with women’s reproductive health issues, by night she rides her bike.

Line of Inquiry: Daria Salamon

Daria Salamon is a freelance writer whose work has been published by the Globe and Mail, the Winnipeg Free Press and Uptown Magazine. Her short fiction and creative non-fiction has been shortlisted for the Writers’ Union of Canada’s Emerging Writer Short Fiction Award, the Larry Turner Award for Creative Non-Fiction, and the Canadian Authors Association’s North of 55 Writing Contest.

In 2005, she wrote a monthly humour column on wedding planning for the Winnipeg Free Press called “The Wedding Diaries.”

She lives in Winnipeg, Manitoba.

* * *

1) As a writer (i.e. someone whose artistic practice is predicated on time spent alone) how do you approach performance? What do you get out of it?

I think that performance is the carrot. Lots of writers I know hate it, but I think it's nice to crawl out of that dark hole after years and years of slogging away on a book and actually talk to people.

I don't really have an approach to performance as this is my first crack at it. Any suggestions? Steven Galloway told me that if I'm feeling like my reading is going badly that I should just lift up my shirt, because boobs can fix pretty much any problem. So that is my back up strategy. Or maybe I should just start that way?


2) What do you want people to know about The Prairie Bridesmaid?


Hmmm. Well, first off - the girl on the cover is not actually me.

I love the cover, but it might be a bit misleading for potential readers. The cover is a bit chicklittish - and while the book is funny it deals with some dark issues such as abuse and mental health. I think that readers are surprised by this (in a good and unexpected way).

Let's see - there is a talking squirrel in the book and a blind baba who is totally crazy and refuses to hand over her gun. Someone recently described it as "a coming of age story about a woman in her early thirties." I like that. Don't we spend our whole lives coming of age?

The book comes with a downloadable soundtrack of really awesome music. It's all explained on the website.

3) Will this your first time in Winnipeg? What have you heard? (I know, I know, you're FROM Winnipeg, but I figured you could have fun with this one...)

This will be my first time appearing in Winnipeg, sober. I've heard that it's quite a beautiful city when you're not half in the bag. So, I'm going to try it. No promises. But I'll try.

4) What are you reading right now? What are you writing right now?

I just finished Cormac McCarthy's The Road. I've never actually read anything by him and now I know why. It's been a while since I've lost sleep over a book - not because I'm reading (that happens all the time), but because I can't stop thinking about it. I'm half way through The Flying Troutmans and I'm loving, loving,loving it. On deck is Joan Thomas' new novel Reading by Lightning.

I'm working on a second novel, but I can't say that it's going all that well. I'm a bit stuck. I think I'm paralyzed by the fear that maybe I only have one book in me - or one good book and then another really crappy book that only my mother will read.

5) What's it like to perform at the festival, being from Winnipeg?


Honestly, it's really fantastic. Because I've volunteered at it (well, feigned volunteering so that I could access the free booze in the hospitality suite) for so many years and always dreamed of being part of it. That sounds so fucking cheesy, but it's true. And I know that there are lots of volunteers who participate with that same ambition. Perhaps I can serve as proof that it is possible to cross over. I pretty much had to write a book; my gig was up. Charlene and Tavia were onto me.

* * *

Daria Salamon will be appearing at THIN AIR, Winnipeg International Writers Festival:
September 23 - Campus Program, Red River College, with Duncan Thornton.
September 24 - Mainstage, with David Bergen, Nicole Markotic, and Gerald Hill.

Flickr-ing: a corner of my desk


IMG00298.jpg, originally uploaded by hotair.2008.

Tools for the next eight days...the tea being the most important.
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Intro: Brad Hartle

Ariel sent me an email before I knew who Ariel was.

I don't get many emails, for reasons I would rather not talk about, so I opened it with some interest. I'm glad I did. A mutual friend had given Ariel my contact info, suggesting me as someone who might be interested in blogging for the Writers Festival.

I nodded to myself, raised my eyebrows a bit and thought, yes, yes that would be something I'd be interested in. She then went on to promise me a free coffee mug. At this point I pushed the reply button.

As someone who is just starting out writing, I thought it might be interesting to focus on what writers at the festival have to say about the craft of writing fiction, be it novels, short stories or poems.

Where do their influences and ideas come from? How do they make their characters believable? How do they approach form and voice? What have they learned as their careers have progressed? It is questions like these that will be the focus of my postings.

I would like to thank Ariel and the good folks at the Writers Festival for this opportunity. I hope I don't blow it.

* * *

Brad Hartle likes books. One day he may try to write one, though nothing is certain. For now, he spends his days in the basement of a big stone building in Downtown Winnipeg and his evenings in a big brick apartment in Crescentwood, where he lives with his wife, two cats, and a scattering of toothpicks, needed because he refuses to see a dentist. He is almost always happy.