SAD Mag is an independent Vancouver publication featuring stories, art, and design. Founded in 2009, we publish the best of contemporary and emerging artists with a focus on inclusivity of voices and views, exceptional design, and film photography.
"We both had experiences where I’d go into a music store or a video store when I was younger and I was really excited about something. I’d bring it up to the counter and I’d be vibrating with excitement cause it was that cool and then I’d just get a ton of shade. We were like “I don’t wanna replicate that experience.” We wanna try to do something different and we try to be low-key."
Members of the European Union (we're looking at you, United Kingdom) presented a two week-long film festival at the Cinematheque, screening some of their best and boldest. As with any festival, some were hits and some were misses—film writer Liam Siemens reviews.
Pennylane Shen’s apartment represents her well: it's warm, artful, lively, and colourful. Antiques, taxidermy, and mixed media works by her friends filled the brick walls; a clever digital image of fire in the fireplace, and a birdcage with a ceramic Mao candle that stands imprisoned within.
“The film asks us to pay attention, to listen, to watch everything as it unfolds. All of these moments matter. All of these people matter. To pay them attention is to care.” Gianfranco Rosi's Fire at Sea came to VIFF only a few weeks ago, but has already garnered wide acclaim. Writer Kerria Gray muses on why this documentary is as affecting as it is.
As part of Vancouver's Diwali Fest, Anusree Roy's award winning play, Brothel #9, puts the grittier aspects of human struggle and resilience on stage, front and centre. Skillfully written and directed, with the outstanding talent of its players, this production is one to know about. Ljudmila Petrovic reviews.
In a time when positivity and lightness of being are in danger of becoming scarce, it seems Tracey Power's Miss Shakespeare reaches us with necessary intention. Writer Sagal Kahin reflects on the immeasurable value of women's voices, and on the weight of this message as told by Power's pertinent production.
“I say point blank that I didn’t necessarily learn anything. I wanted to push against that trope, especially in memoir, which is ‘I wrote this because I am a different person now that I was before and this journey has taken me to some grand place.’ Well, not necessarily, sometimes we just do things and we don’t get any further ahead, we don’t get any wiser. Maybe it’s not inspiring, but it might be true.”
I love the worlds we build with other people through language—how letters, poems, text messages, emails are not only evidence of our rapports, but they also actively shape them. Each relationship has its own vocabulary and texture and I like to think epistolary poems allow me to pay tribute to those idiosyncrasies. It’s also a way to conjure the addressee; it creates a wormhole that doesn’t exactly bring that person closer, but it does bring into relief that realm you’ve created together.
“We hoped participants would enter the gallery from the world in which we live our everyday lives and, once inside, be able to fully immerse themselves in a momentary dream world—known from their own personal experience of the space between.”
“The judges, who are friendlier and funnier (no Simon Cowell here), do improv, the local contestants dramatically read seven minutes of their work, the audience sips wine, and the show-host, also Adrian Zuniga, keeps up a quick stream of literary jokes that validate and reward a liberal arts education while moving the show along through it’s own chaotic hoops.”
“Maybe you should keep some of your art.” // He shrugs. He stands up and points at one of the lookalikes, the oldest and most graphic-designery among them. “Do you want that painting? Five bucks. But you have to prop it up on top of your toilet tank. That's the intention of the piece.”
The exhibition is on view from November 5th through February 5th, 2017, and begs an afternoon’s worth viewing for art lovers and casual internet browsers alike. Juxtapoz x Superflat accomplishes a truly respectable feat: creating an accessible portal for the appreciation of “high-art” technique melded with “low-art” content.