N.31 In the Mouth of Living

There are some, who, after a long day, go back home for the purpose of staring into a t.v screen. But us, we go into an old church to make contemporary dance and music.

To each his/her own life.

I season Mathie’s arm aerobics with my non-tonal guitar playing. It’s all a question of dynamics, tone and rhythms. Notes are not so important.

Rafa slams the praying kneelers to the ground with fervor. I drag a chair across the floor for its unique squeak quality and Alex drops noise pads of his own making. Christian shouts into the snare drum. Rhythmicality is optional.

The dancers share temporary stories, wordlessly expressed. They express the spaciality of the church, its natural reverb and our nameless music.
The scripted choreography is non-existing.

It’s total freedom.

Devoid of judgments or second thoughts, we thrive on each other’s inspirations.
Within the confines of this evening, there are no creative limitations.

It’s a visceral celebration of our fundamental freedom of being.
Time dissipates in an ocean of sounds and corporality.

For the first edition, I’m there as a photographer. The perfect opportunity to hone my experimental photography. I let the flow of the moment take over.

At the second one, I am standing upright on one of the mass benches. Guitar in hand, I get inspired by impromptu movements that manifests in my line of sight.

A thought passes through me.
‘’I’d do that of my Life, it makes me so happy’’

This is the kind of thing that I love deeply. I couldn’t do any of it outside of Montréal, city of artists.

Well well well, matter of factly, that’s exactly what I am currently doing with friends I appreciate. Life is well tailored.

Good place, good moment in time and good team.

All of it in an old chapel turned into a center for social and cultural organisms.

There are intangible riches in this world.
It’s not with experimental art that I’ll be able to buy a house by the sea but it sure fills my heart with an untamed sense of celebratory gratitude.

How great it is to be alive!

The other day, during a literary quest at the national public library, I stumble upon a stand bearing the name ‘’talk to an elderly for 25 cents’’

An old guy with gray hair is sitting on a stool. Our eyes meet.

‘’What is this?’’ I ask
‘’Well, sit and find out’’ he says.

‘’what’s your name?’’
‘’Hervey, and you?
‘’Simon’’

We discuss anything and everything in between for a moment. I ask him what has been his life filled with.

Hervey is 77 years old. Father of 3.
He trains everyday. He’s been happily married for 48 years.

48 years…

And to think that, myself, I haven’t retained an intimate relationship for more than 9 months. My curiosity pushes me to ask ‘’how does one maintain an intimate relationship sane and thriving for 48 years?’’

‘’It’s quite simple, you’ve got to have three lives: yours, hers and ours’’

He begins to explain that there must be enough similarities and differences between the two for the relation to remain sparkly throughout the years.

He loves sports
She just started the gym, at 77 years old.

He is very social
She prefers books

Both are passionate about cooking
Both were already parents when they met

You can’t be afraid of trying and failing, he tells me. Constant learning keeps you young and happy.

After our exchange, I put a dollar in the donation jar and say
‘’here’s a dollar, that’ll pay for the next person’’

‘’That is one of the most beautiful things to do in this world’’ he says.
‘’Life is made in such a way that giving and helping without conditions always comes back around. And not necessarily in the ways you’d expect. It is bound to happen. I did it all my life, to pay for the next guy and render services without counting. My life has truly been a profound beauty because of it.’’

‘’Thanks Hervey, I needed to hear that today’’

I get up from my seat.
I shake his hand and truck’ on down the road with a smile on my heart.

N.29 Montreal by Night


The cold season is beginning.
Sunset is at 4 p.m.

It’s the perfect time of year for vampires and nightlife lovers who work the next day: night starts at 6 p.m.
However, the show starts at 9 p.m so it’s a shame for your sleep.


The unique sound of the Bonze Trio gives you jitters like too much coffee.
With unshackled creative flow, the band mixes jazz, drum n’ bass, funk, modern music, and smoldering rock.

A trio that, as we say in my language, “goddamn this rocks!.”
Trying to count the time signatures is enough to make your cranium go bald.

Montreal at night is a world where anything is possible.
If the band is good, you can travel across the universe for 20 bucks.

Le Bonze Trio are not only unparalleled university musicians who bounce musical ideas off of each other, but also great friends. You can tell by the jokes that brilliantly fill the gaps between songs.

When winter is in full swing, you have to brave the cold, the slush, and seasonal fatigue to get to the concert hall. You hesitate to leave your house, but once you’re there, you don’t regret it.

Life is short, and I intend to reap the rewards of my Montreal artistic culture.
Without our artists, Montreal’s nightlife could be summed up to “meh.” Without an audience to share their passions with, they might as well stay in their jam space jamming with friends.

Don’t forget to go cheer on and enjoy what’s happening within the walls of our theaters after the sun has set.

If you’re hesitant to go out, do as our artists do in winter: you’ll sleep in February.
Unless you’re in college, in which case you never sleep, but that’s another story.

Please excuse me for a moment, I must put down my pencil in exchange for an intoxicating and energetic dance to the sounds of drum n’ bass playing behind me.

I’ll be back, wait for me!

Well, what had to happen happened.
When you dance too much, you forget to write.
What do you do in that case?
You go back to dancing the next day.

From one universe to another, I find myself in an African trance with DJ Afrofoly and Gotta Lago on percussion.

At the conservatory of music of Montreal, I find myself at an ecstatic dance party.
My camera and pencil are my passes to Montreal’s cultural nightlife.

Between two stiff dance moves, I whip out my camera and capture the heat of the action. Tonight, I’m a picture taking cowboy!

From the balafon and African songs to solidly modern beats,
It’s a blend of ages.

From yesterday to today, music is found in the company of dance.
It is the perfect ambassador of trance.

It’s easier to go far away when a rhythm keeps us firmly rooted.
It’s like a tree. The taller it grows toward the sky, the deeper its roots spread into the ground.

The better the music,
the more passionate the dance.

Well, that’s it. You’ll have to excuse me, I must once again put down my pen and leave you to your business. Sometimes, after a Saturday night dance session that lasts until 11 p.m., the best show in town is going home to sleep.

Ciao amigos!