Hamilton’s arts community has expanded in the last few years, and newcomers CoBALT Connects offer an important program to contribute to this development. Jeremy Freiburger founded the company in 2005, and it was called The Imperial Cotton Centre for the Arts (ICCA) until early last year, when it rebranded. The non-profit organization focuses on services for local artists.
Their mission statement is to utilize creativity as a way to develop a strong economy and positive community identity. The organization divides itself into three programs: Spaces, which focuses on creating hubs for artists and entrepreneurs, Consultation, which works with governments and organizations to align and impact creative communities, and Exchange, which facilitates the sharing of ideas, resources and knowledge between artists.
Through these creative programs, the organization has created the Band Together project. The goal of this project is to give local musicians and filmmakers an easier way to gain funding for music videos. Submissions were received from 19 local teams, and the winners were elected through a jury process. With support from the Ontario Arts Council, each winning team is given $1000 as a grant towards their video production. The funds help cover equipment, venue rentals and other professional costs while CoBALT provides additional support through planning, production and promotional assistance.
The program began last fall, and the results of each team will be showcased at the Lyric Theatre on King Street downtown while also featuring performances from all the bands involved. The event will be held Thursday, April 18th and will feature the following videos:
“Who Knows” by The Rest, directed by Lee Skinner
“Anchor Me Down” by Katie Bulley (formerly of the Barettas) directed by Ryan Furlong of Fenian Films
“Rise The Falling Sun” by Pete Van Dyk and the Second Hand Band, directed by James Maunder
“Kit Kat” by Haolin Munk, directed by BE&ME Productions.
By: Kyle Fisher
“Turn on the radio, nah fuck it, turn it off” shouts Zack de la Rocha on Rage Against the Machine’s track “Vietnow” and I couldn’t agree more. Radio stations lately have been especially irritating to my ears. Now mind you, I am well aware my musical tastes might be a little biased but I’m just tired of the overplayed, undercooked music that stations like the Edge and Y108 persistently bombard their listeners with day in and day out. I’ve completely tuned out the radio.
I listen to a decent variety of music but my personal favorites mostly come from the wide, wide world of rock and roll. My favourite band is Led Zeppelin. In fact, they are the greatest band in the world. But that’s some Classic Rock radio shit though so it’s not even worth talking about right now. The radio people I have beef with are the ones that present themselves as the beacon for “new” music – rock in particular. Pop music is not my thing and they are always playing the latest and greatest anyways so what’s for pop listeners go complain about anyway, right?
When it comes down to rock radio, the stations that promote the newest bands just tend to shovel the same garbage into listeners’ ears every day. A typical radio schedule for a rock station these days is pretty much loaded with Mumford and Sons, the Black Keys, Mumford and Sons coattail-riders, Nirvana and, of course, the CanCon staple Tragically Hip. Where’s the goddamn variety? Do people have the balls to play new music anymore? Okay, so that’s not the only stuff getting played on rock radio right now, but the deviations are not far off. Swap Nirvana out for Pearl Jam, Soundgarden or, even worse, Nickelback (I’m looking at you Y108) and throw in the latest sonic trend, whether it be the folk vibe we have now or the retro rock revival of the Black Keys. Where are bands like Tame Impala? METZ? My Morning Jacket? Titus Andronicus? There are so many fantastic bands out there that deserve some airtime. Just play some new music that excites people, makes people interested and keeps them thinking. Stop stuffing us with the same shit all the time. I swear I heard Finger Eleven on the radio more times this week than I can count. Are they even a relevant group anymore? What did they do for music? Why keep playing them?
Take a risk, rock radio, and show me something I haven’t heard before. Challenge your audience and challenge yourself because I’m over you.
By: Kyle Fisher
Over the past two years Hamilton has found a new spark of life in the downtown core’s growing arts scene. James St. North in particular has bloomed into a lively area buzzing with new stores that range from small boutique shops to organic bakeries to, of course, the communal gathering each month for Art Crawl. Hamilton’s interests have changed from industry to culture and a new breed of artists has emerged. Gord Bond, a McMaster Alumni, is one of these new artists and is making a name for himself with his unique approach to the human face.
Bond‘s interest in painting began like most artists’ probably do: he drew and painted cartoon superheroes as a kid and later attempted to recreate landscapes, which in his case was his family’s Georgian Bay cottage. “I have been painting from a very young age although I didn't start painting consistently until I entered my undergrad in fine art at McMaster,” said Bond. Upon entering the fine arts program, he eagerly began a series of paintings that focus on manipulating one’s perception of the human face.
Bond encompasses the French term “jamais vu” in his work, which translates into “never seen.” This term describes the phenomenon of something familiar becoming instantly unfamiliar, all at the same time. It is this contrast between the familiar and unfamiliar that leads Bond to fracture and disorder the faces of his friends and family on canvas. “[It] is interesting to consider how their face can be such a reassuring image. It is the result of the intimate knowledge you have of them and the fond experiences you've shared. On the other hand, there is a side to them that you don't know and is unknowable. There are thoughts that they will never share, no matter how close your relationship is, and secrets that they will keep to themselves,” said Bond of the experience. “I felt that if I could maintain the character of the face but reorganize it in a way that is uncomfortable I could project this experience of jamais vu."
Aside from the concepts of jamais vu, Bond’s goals at McMaster were to improve his painting abilities to “catch up to [his] imagination,” and in his final year he produced 60 paintings. Now a York student, he looks to start fresh and break new ground with his work. “York [is] a new setting and a blank canvas unbiased to anything I have done in the past,” said Bond. He is approaching the human figure with a more “playful and childlike” theme, allowing his work to speak to a wider range of ideas that he finds important.
Bond is also the drummer in local band New Hands; one of his goals is to paint the faces of bands he plays with such as Young Rival, the Rest and Arkells. If he could pick any musician, however, Tom Waits is his number one choice.
Gord Bond’s art is currently on display weekly in the Casbah Lounge at the corner of King and Queen in downtown Hamilton.
By: Kyle Fisher
The Grudge
The year of my brother’s twelfth birthday was the year that stole my horror movie virginity. I was ten years old, and very eager to watch whatever family-friendly film our mother had taken us to the theatres to see. Plot twist number one:a it was sold out. Plot twist number two: my brother was pretty content to see The Grudge as a backup.
If you’ve seen The Grudge, you know that it is arguably one of the worst horror movies to watch if you’re trying to ease a fragile ten-year-old mind into the genre. Minimal plot, maximum jump-out scenes, and this awful tendency to totally deprive the characters of safety (that creepy little girl would show up in the shower, the bedroom, the attic, the stairwell).
Needless to say, I was horrified. I had scratches along my hairline from watching the entire movie through cupped hands. The worst part is that it didn’t start until 10 p.m., so we came home to a pitch-black and empty house. I remember staying up for another hour reading Garfield comics with the lights on. Here’s to my brother for probably taking a year or two off my life.
Brody Weld
The Mummy
When I was in grade 3 my friend Jennifer invited me over to watch a scary movie. My mum tried to warn me. “Are you certain that you’re ready?” she said.
Sure, I still closed my eyes when Itchy and Scratchy came on the Simpsons; sure, I still couldn’t watch the part of Pinocchio where he goes inside the whale; okay, I still got afraid of sharks when I went swimming ever since watching Jaws. But I was definitely ready.
I arrived at Jennifer’s house and out came a VHS of The Mummy, starring Brendan Fraser. Almost right away a scarab beetle crawled under a man’s skin and started eating his flesh. I felt a little uncomfortable, but I could deal, at least for the moment. I huddled with one of Jennifer’s six cats (which is too many cats; what was up with that?).
The rest was a blur. There were sand storms, insects flying out of mouths, and ancient pharaohs with skin missing. I don’t remember everything, but I was legitimately terrified.
I tried to play it cool when I got home, but when my dog brushed my leg I jumped three feet in the air, which may have given me away.
“I told you …” said my mum. Thanks, mum.
Isabelle Dobronyi
It
It won’t be that scary, they said.
October is a time of year where people look for any opportunity to watch a good ol’ scary movie. I, on the other hand, go to great lengths to avoid such movies. You see, I’m not the biggest fan of scary movies. In fact, I hate them.
Let me take you on a trip to my aunt’s house back in 2001 where my sister and my cousin thought it was a good idea to watch the movie It with me. I was six. As you can imagine, six-year-olds and Stephen King storylines don’t go very well together. If you don’t know, the movie is about a crazed clown named Pennywise (I know, even its name is scary) who transforms into the fear of its victims. Long story short, I was extremely spooked and I have not seen a single scary movie since that day (does Scary Movie 3 with the Wayans Bros. count?).
So now you know why I’m not the biggest fan of scary movies, but if you like them then great! Just know that I’ll be here, still changing the channel every time a commercial for Paranormal Activity comes on. Happy Halloween!
Justin Jairam
Scary Movie 3
My scary movie experience may seem pathetic to you, and perhaps in many ways it is. But I will stand by my belief that I had a totally legitimate reason to be afraid of this movie. It was late at night and I was sitting in my cousin’s cottage when we watched it. They laughed and joked at the characters flickering on the screen while I watched in mute fear. And what is this horrific movie?
Scary Movie 3.
Yes I can hear you laughing. But I was terrified! I mean, they parody The Ring. I haven’t even seen The Ring; I’d probably die of fright if I did! I don’t care if Scary Movie 3 is a comedy, any creepy girl crawling out of a T.V. is horrifying.
Sarah O’Conner
Ghostbusters
Everyone has a memory of the first movie that made them feel shit-your-pants scared and that every other horror film was a joke (or at least not nearly as frightening). Oddly enough, the first movie that brought me to that level of terror was the original Ghostbusters. This requires a little back-story.
As a three-year old I was really terrified of the boogieman. I thought that he lived at the end of a long, dark hallway in a terrifying laundry room in the basement. My dad had the bright idea to watch Ghostbusters with me in the basement, and he ran upstairs right before the opening scene where the ghostly librarian scares the crap out of the Ghostbusters. She scared the crap out of me too, and I ran as fast as I could up the stairs only to be stopped by a stupid child-proof door block. Fuck those things. That was the worst. I didn’t sleep for days.
Kyle Fisher
101 Dalmatians
When I tell people that the movie that scared me msot as a child is 101 Dalmatians, I usually get either laughed at or a wedgie (though, come to think of it, I tend to get those even when I don’t mention that fact...). However, with another Halloween rolling around, it is time to own up. I was about three or four years old when there I was, watching 101 Dalmatians, and the nightmarish face of the evil Cruella De Vil appeared on screen, and I lost it. Glenn Close has never looked scarier (except maybe when she isn’t wearing makeup). Crying as though the NHL was in lockout (oh wait) I proceeded to flounder about the floor, shrieking and pleading for the TV to be turned off. A few days later, I was walking through a Wal-Mart with my dad when the unthinkable happened: I saw Glenn Close! And she looked back at me! In full Cruella De Vil gear! From the cover of a 101 Dalmatians DVD! Transfixed, I stared at it until my dad, realizing I was paralyzed with fear, told me to punch the box. This, he reasoned, would eliminate my fear of the vile witch character and release me from her Medusian clutches. Digging deep, I pulled my arm back, clenched my fist, and slammed it right into Cruella De Vil’s face. Ever since then, I have found her laughable rather than pants-pissable.
So remember, kids: punch stuff! It helps!
Alex Sallas
1408
I can barely watch as the film reel tells its story. In a pin-droppingly silent movie theatre, I sit clutching my chest in anticipation of something popping out at me. Wedged between two of my older cousins, it is of utmost importance to prove that I’m not scared of the room on the 13th floor. John Cusack isn’t afraid and he’s in the damn room, so why should I be? I decide to get up and feign going to the washroom to avoid any potential embarrassment. The eeriness of the music rises, and I quicken my pace down the stairs of the theatre. I turn the corner while looking back at the screen to ensure nothing is about to startle me. Without looking, I stick out my hand to push the door open. Instead of being met with the cold, hard metal of the door my fingertips feel the flesh of someone’s arm. I instinctively jump and yell. The sound of my voice fills the silent movie theatre, and I hear what feels like a million people laugh. My scream startled a poor girl opening the door and caused her to drop her popcorn. Speeding out of the theatre, I apologize profusely to her in absolute embarrassment. I haven’t seen a scary movie in theatres since.
Jasper Johar
