August 2011 Archives

Jack Layton passed away today, leaving behind his political legacy and his powerful, moving words to Canadians. As we all embark on new journeys and chapters in our lives, Layton's courage and motivational words will resonate with Canadians forever. Jack Layton's last letter to Canadians affected me profoundly.

I remember feeling excited earlier this year, about studying an area where I would be able to fight on behalf of those who had been disenfranchised. However, this summer I have been hit with waves of doubts regarding my decision. Was I being naïve about my optimism towards changing the world with my new degree? Was it too late for me to be doing this? But reading Layton's affirmation that optimism is better than despair, and that Canada can be a country of greater equality, I saw the answer to my questions clearly: I am in no position to doubt myself, as my life lies ahead of me. My words and my efforts will not be wasted, if I do not waste them.

I voted for the NDP in the last election, in the "orange province" that resonated with his vision and his spirit so much. I felt proud to be a part of that change in Canadian politics. I felt proud to see so many young and fresh faces enter politics for the first time.

So thank you, Jack, for showing me that change is really possible with passion and dedication, and thank you, for giving me affirmation for my idealistic vision and goals for a better society as I embark on this new journey.

I was in my kitchen at 5:30am this morning when I heard about Jack Layton's death on the radio.

"We have breaking news," the radio host said. "We have just confirmed that Jack Layton has died."

I froze. Was this a Twitter rumor that had gotten out of hand? No, it was really confirmed. I felt a vague sadness, the way I always do when I hear that someone I know, or know of, has died. I know that people die every day. There's a person dying right now, somebody's mother, father, daughter, son, grandparent. People are dying on the streets of Syria, fighting for the freedoms that I casually take for granted here.

However, Jack Layton's goodbye letter to Canadians reminds me that I should not be complacent here. There is much work to be done. In a section addressed to young Canadians, Layton wrote:

"As my time in political life draws to a close I want to share with you my belief in your power to change this country and this world. There are great challenges before you, from the overwhelming nature of climate change to the unfairness of an economy that excludes so many from our collective wealth, and the changes necessary to build a more inclusive and generous Canada. I believe in you. Your energy, your vision, your passion for justice are exactly what this country needs today. You need to be at the heart of our economy, our political life, and our plans for the present and the future."

His words resonate strongly with me, a 1.5-generation Korean Canadian female citizen. Each part of my identity—1.5-generation, Korean, Canadian, female, and citizen—is personal, and political. I'm emboldened by Layton's call for young Canadians to act on their social conscience. I hope that other young Canadians felt the same jolt of urgency as I did when they heard of his death, and read his letter. I say let's get to it, Canada. Let's keep going with what Layton started—disrupting the status quo.Whether that be in the House of Commons, or in your own community, the most important thing is that we just do it, and do it right now. After all, life is so wonderfully, terribly, short.

As I hear the sad news that hits the nation that the NDP leader has passed at such a young age of 61, I think of him as a person, not a politician, and send love and support to his family and friends for their lost.

There is something about reading a letter from a person that has just passed away. He writes it knowing his time is coming to an end, knowing this will be his last words. He really acknowledged his fellow Cancer patients and Quebecers, members of his party and parliament caucus. Though I have never met him and he does not know my name, when I read his words to young Canadians, I felt like he was speaking right to me and could not help but start crying.

His words encourage and comfort you at the same time. I felt he knew exactly what type of challenges and tribulations that I have personally gone through —wondering sometimes "is all this hard work worth it?" The answer is YES! Because I want a better tomorrow, because I believe my work creates value in both my life and in the lives of others. This section of his letter has inspired me so deeply that I will read this every morning to remind me that we do have the power to change the world.

During my teenage years I paid little attention to politics. Why should I care? I viewed Parliament as a place where a bunch of old, white guys sit around a massive oak table and discuss matters that were relevant to them, not to me, or to any Canadian youth. I wanted to vote for a party that did not seem to cast aside the youth of Canada, and unfortunately I wasn't able to find a party that reached out to me and wanted to hear my voice.

Then came along Jack Layton and his crusade for change. And more importantly his hunger to hear the voices of young Canada. I remember feeling a part of something bigger, that something being a drive for change and harmony in the way we lead our lives. Jack respected young Canada and our opinions mattered.

I didn't just admire Jack for his strong-willed nature. Nor did I only admire what he was trying to accomplish. I also admired Jack for not being afraid to let loose in-front of the public, to pick up a guitar or harmonica and play a few tunes, to drink a beer and crack a few jokes. He was personable and charismatic —unlike any other Canadian politician. He brought a light of humanity to politics that few politicians are able to do.

Jack made me care about my place in this country. From his many speeches to the public, it seemed like he believed the impossible was possible. After reading his last letter to Canada, I am left hopeful that all is not lost with his death. In-fact, nothing will be lost, as I know that many of his followers and believers will only show others more love, be more optimistic, and hold more hope. Because that's how we'll change the world.

PART 1 : Following the Exit Signs | August 10, 2011

I'm about as ready as I'll ever be: My red, mammoth sized backpack glares at me from the corner, nagging me to begin organizing all the travel sized knick knacks I've collected over the last month. The pieces are there; I just haven't made sense of it all quite yet.

In less than 48 hours, I'll be embarking on a two and a half-month backpacking trip to Europe. Alone. While this may not be such an intimidating feat for the average Canadian, let it be known that I'm not all that average...sized. I barely qualify as a passenger in some newer model vehicles. Some days I'm just a large bag of groceries. But what's more impressive is that my Chinese—Canadian parents have actually encouraged me to take this plunge. Perhaps all this needs to be put into context to be fully appreciated:

My name is Devon Wong and I am your run-of-the-mill "Let's say five feet" Chinese—Canadian girl. For most of my life, I've struggled with the acknowledgement of my Chinese heritage. I'm roughly a 2.5 gen Canadian, with most of my extended family living somewhere between Vancouver and Port Moody. Yes, I drive a Matrix and I've been the proud owner of a karaoke machine, but I also get my Chinese food fix from Kent's Kitchen and I cried during the riots. I consider myself a Canadian.

I've been a proud owner of a karaoke machine.

Over the last few years, the hyphenated identity of being a Chinese-Canadian really struck me during my time abroad in Singapore from 2007&mdash2008. Many occasions, I found myself confronted with a disbelieving stranger that I was actually "Canadian".

"You look Chinese though!", I would be told time and time again.

It was then that I really began a personal quest to resolve my questions around my own ethnic appearance, culture, and identity, and how disjointed those three categories seemed to play out in my life.

I consider myself Canadian.

Fast forward three years later, and throw in a growing career aspiration to become a media producer of some sorts, and here I am today. Twenty four years old and as ambitious as ever. I'm hitting the road to seek a career path that allows me to explore issues around identity and social justice through film, and help to build stronger awareness around marginalized groups that lack access to mainstream media. I think my parents have slowly warmed up to the idea that my dreams go beyond our South Vancouver basement suite, but it's been a hard earned journey. The road will be interesting; I've never had short luck of meeting interesting strangers. It's inevitable that I will find myself in some trying situations, but I'm a firm believer in adversity building character (I did live on the equator for 9 months without any air conditioning after all).

I intend to document my travels as a series where I'll highlight all the cultural exchanges, road anecdotes, and questionable situations I'm bound to encounter over my trip. Stay tuned for my first post from the road, which should be from somewhere between Geneva and Greece.

For now it's about time I deal with this backpack situation; nobody likes a nag.

PART 2: European Meat Markets | August 17, 2011

Tonight was my first taste of the European meat market. No, I wasn't out shopping for cured meats and seafood—I was at Java, the same upscale nightclub where 50 Cent recently threw his post concert after party.

It was the typical club fare—Boys in dress shirts tucked into even tighter jeans, white studded belts and pointed faux hawks, throw in the odd businessman or two coming from a late evening of after-work drinks (we are in Geneva after all), along with an array of women in various states of dress/undress.

Not a single one could guess.

While I could manage the usual cat calls in the mingling area outside the club's entrance, I found myself immediately brought back to my days in Asia when I heard the first shout of

"Hey! Where you from?"

While my gut told me that these men were more interested in getting a reaction out of me, as opposed to a real discussion about my Chinese ancestry... I was quite surprised (although not impressed) that many of them would then attempt to guess my ethnicity.

"Philippines?" "Thailand?" "Japan"?

Not a single one could guess that I was from China.

It's something that will take some getting used to as I've been warned that European men tend to be a lot more forward with their sexual advances. I'm quite capable of handling myself, and being rude when I need to be, so I'm not too worried about things getting out of hand at this point. I suppose it's just a matter of navigating between strangers that have a genuine interest in my background, and others that are just betting I'll respond to a "NI HAO" from across the street.

PART 3: Culture Clash | August 24, 2011

It's been over a month since I left the comforts of home in Vancouver, and backpacked my way through a number of countries: Turkey, Greece, Italy, Switzerland, UK, France, and Portugal.

Every country brings a new experience, new languages, new personalities, and new cultural nuances. If you've ever heard the saying

"I know who I am by who I am not", I think it that about sums up how Canadian I am realizing myself to be.

Every time I am corrected by a local for butchering their language, I cringe. When I see piles of empty plastic water bottles littering the streets of Turkey, I triple cringed. I'm slowly getting used to giving and receiving two kisses with each greeting, and I still insist on yelling "THANK YOU" to the bus driver.

Old habits die hard.

Genie Macleod reviews Jen Sookfong Lee's latest novel The Better Mother. Readers can nominate this novel to get on the longlist for the 2011 Giller Prize until August 28.

Once upon a time in Vancouver, the infamous Penthouse Night Club at Seymour and Nelson was not the sleazy, beer-soaked, stag-party staple it is today. When it opened in the 1950s, it was one of the hottest supper clubs around, with guests such as Frank Sinatra, Louis Armstrong, Ella Fitzgerald, and Gary Cooper coming for dinner and staying for the show (if you know what I mean). This was the golden age of burlesque, when being a stripper meant creating a character, telling a story, and only stripping down to your pasties and panties.

In another less dazzling bygone era of Vancouver, when bus shelters on Davie Street were not painted bubblegum pink, and rainbow flags were scarce, whispers of a mysterious and vicious epidemic were exchanged in hushed tones.

These seemingly separate periods of Vancouver's history provide the backdrop for Jen Sookfong Lee's latest novel, The Better Mother. Thirty-something Danny Lim is a struggling photographer looking for his money shot and trying to keep his active social and sex life in Vancouver's gay community a secret from his conservative and traditional parents.

His agonizing story of growing up different in a family that prizes conformity finds an unlikely match in the history of Miss Val, a.k.a. the Siamese Kitten, an aging former stripper whom Danny befriends. Miss Val is no stranger to hardship. She grew up in poverty, witnessed the tragic death of a family member, suffered a cruel betrayal by her first lover, and turned to stripping when she had no other option. She can sympathize with Danny's dream of exchanging his drab rule-bound life for a vibrant glamorous one full of satin and sequins.

Lee writes with her pen attuned to every detail of sensory experience. You can feel the pulse of the music and the blinding glare of lights as Miss Val struts around the dance hall's stages. When Danny's mother is cooking in her tiny Chinatown kitchen, the oil in the pan seemingly rises from the page and seeps into your skin.

While the dialogue felt slightly stilted at times, my heart was with Danny and Miss Val every step of the way―breaking as they exchanged their stories of struggle, and swelling as they helped one another find the courage to conquer their demons. The Better Mother is a poignant and beautifully told story of the value of friendship and family.

For more about Jennifer Sookfong Lee and her other works, visit her official website sookfong.com.

Submit your nomination for The Better Mother from August 2 to 28 at the Giller Prize website.
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Genie is an editorial assistant for Schema Magazine and self-appointed seeker-out of Schema-worthy events in Vancouver. She is a certified bookworm with a special fondness for Shakespeare and CanLit. You can follow her on Twitter @geniemak

Vancouver-based artist Jeremy Isao Speier explores the disruptions of digital technologies, new media, and globalization in Made in Japan, on at Blim in Vancouver's Chinatown from July 29 to August 27. Schema Magazine's Beth Hong caught up with Speier at his East Vancouver studio to talk about his upcoming exhibit.

Jeremy Isao Speier's studio is on the second floor of a nondescript concrete office building, a stone's throw from Vancouver's eclectic Main Street. Speier welcomes me into his studio, a cozy space with a full bathroom, bunk bed, and kitchenette. Faded incense lingers in the air like cigarette smoke in old pubs.

This is where Speier creates his art—film and video, kinetic sculpture and sound, and installations. Pieces from his most recent project, Made in Japan, hang on the high-ceilinged walls.

"I would've worn nicer shoes," Speier says, looking down at his blue Crocs. "But I figured you would want to see what I normally wear."

This is where Speier creates his art—film and video, kinetic sculpture and sound, and installations.

At 42, Speier exudes a youthful energy. Lanky in a faded grey T-shirt and cargo pants, the only thing that betrays his age is his frizzy, shoulder-length grey hair―that, and his VCR player.

"I do watch movies on it," he admits. His VHS tape collection ranges from David Lynch's Blue Velvet to Pixar's A Bug's Life. He also has the entire Godfather series.

We sit down on his couch, and talk about the influences behind Made in Japan.

What inspired this particular collection?

There's a previous series of work to this called Kinetics which actually looks similar to Made in Japan. On one of the Kinetics pieces, I find a motor that says "Made in Japan" on a little white sticker. When I saw that, I mounted it, and I put the motor off the piece, and that was the impetus for the next series. Also, having a Japanese heritage, this peaked my interest.

Did you create each piece to address a specific aspect of the influences you identified in your artist statement (pre-digital, pre-globalized Japan, industrial Main Street, Deep Purple's record Made in Japan)?

It's a layering of all concepts. Japan struggled to find consumer-based technology. They came up with Walkmans, and VHS, and a few of the things that were important at the time, but they didn't carry it through. The people who were at Sony didn't stay at Sony. And they didn't find what the next thing was, and then Apple and other American companies came in to take over the market. Sony could have gone a lot further, but they didn't get to.

I read a book called Made in Japan which is an autobiography of Akio Morita, the co-founder and former chairman of Sony where he talks about this.

Can you tell me a little more about the Deep Purple record Made in Japan and its influence on this collection?

Definitely. It's one of the main conceptual layers of this collection, which I first proposed to the Western Front artists' residency program in 2006. I came across the Deep Purple record in 2009. The record itself was released in 1972 and '73.

The idea back in the '70s was that "made in Japan" implied a product that was second-rate, and the band [Deep Purple] was skeptical about the name. But it turned out to be one of the best live albums of that era. So it's interesting how now we have opinions about products that are "made in China". We associate them with dollar-store items or items that are second-rate. What does "made in Japan" mean? What are the connotations of that compared to back then, as opposed to now? It's a commentary on innovation and technology.

What is the broader concept behind this collection?

It's interesting how now we have opinions about products that are "made in China". We associate them with dollar-store items or items that are second-rate.

The idea of loss of space, as well as an exploration of the pre-digital and pre-global. When I talk about space, I'm talking specifically talking about the dichotomy between pre-digital, like pre-Internet and social media, and digital space, like Facebook. I'm not against digital space per se, but I just want to open a dialogue.

What kind of dialogue do you hope to provoke?

I'd like the audience to question their current state. When they're looking at my work, hopefully it allows them to see the world differently from what they normally would.

For more about Jeremy, check out his website JeremyIsaoSpeier.com. Also make sure to check out Made in Japan at the BLIM Gallery (115 Pender St. E, Vancouver) until August 27.
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Beth Hong is a freelance journalist and managing editor of InDepth at Schema Magazine. She likes kimchi, poutine, and everything in between. You can follow her on Twitter @metrolens or check out her site BethHong.com.

Vampires beware—there's a sexy female vigilante on the hunt this summer. Grace Huang stars in Bloodtraffick, premiering on Friday August 5 at GenCon in Indiana and the HollyShorts Film Festival on August 16 in Los Angeles. Huang sat down with Schema Magazine to talk about her starring role as Ava, her blended Australian and Taiwanese roots, and her meteoric rise in Hollywood.

Bloodtraffick: Official Trailer from RockGinger on Vimeo.

Can you tell us a bit about Bloodtraffick and your role in it?

It's a standalone short film, around 11 minutes long. But it's unique in that what we shot can also be a scene extracted from a longer, full length feature film, which we hope to produce later.

I play Ava Chen, a female vigilante in search of her two sisters who have been missing for ten years. And then I come across an evil vampire named Finn who admits to killing and brutalizing one of my sisters. There's a huge fight scene, and you get to hear about Ava's feelings about her search for her sisters for so many years.

What has the response been like to the film?

It's been amazing. It's gotten into a few film festivals: GenCon in Indiana on August 5, and then HollyShorts on August 16. Jennifer Thym (the director) and I will be there at HollyShorts in Los Angeles!

What drew you to this role?

I was flattered when Jen approached me—actually I was really ecstatic. I grew up loving the action genre. I loved Geena Davis in Long Kiss Goodnight, I love Kill Bill, Angelina Jolie and Michelle Yeoh.

I've always been drawn to strong female characters, and I identify with them. When Jen showed me the script, I was drawn to it even more, because it's a really moving story about a character who lost both of her younger sisters. The storyline is amazing, and Jen's a great writer.

How did you prepare for your role as Ava?

I prepped for the role by doing research on families who have had family members go missing, and I started writing a diary in the character of Ava from the first few hours after the disappearance to the day after, the week after, month after, a year after that. What she would've gone through, all the guilt, all the anguish. I got into character in diary form with what she'd gone through.

We had a great stunt coordinator, Phillip Ng, who taught us as much as he could within the time limit and choreographed each move in the action scenes with us.It was really fun and I like kicking ass!

I've always been drawn to strong female characters, and I identify with them.

What was the most challenging part of Bloodtraffick ?

This was my first time in a full immersion action role. I had shot romance, comedy and drama before but in this film, I fight and get thrown around a lot; it was very physical. To make things believable, I researched gun fighting on YouTube. The role was a great warm up for The Man With the Iron Fists (2012 Hollywood feature starring Russell Crowe). The physicality was all the more real because we shot for three days around the clock and barely slept! Everyone on the crew worked tirelessly.

Another challenge was that I had a fake tattoo painted onto my back. You don't see much of it, but that took five or six hours to paint on. We did that the day before shooting, and I had to keep it on... for the three-day shoot... so I had to basically shower without showering because I couldn't let it rub off!

Let's talk a little about your personal life. How do you identify yourself?

I was born in Taiwan to Cantonese parents and moved to Sydney when I was seven. I grew up in Australia and most of my memories are from there--I have bits of Taiwan, but my personality is mostly Australian. I'm very patriotic. My birthday is actually Australia Day (the official national day of Australia), January 26. But being that my parents are Asian, my core values are very Asian. So how do I identify? I guess I'm a mix, but I'm Aussie on the inside.

I don't know if people around the world look at me and say, 'You're not Australian, you're Asian?', but they probably do. Australia is a very multicultural country—we have many different nationalities here.

Have you ever been asked where you're really from?

I find Asians ask me that quite often. They always ask me where my parents are from. So that's very interesting.

I don't know if people around the world look at me and say, 'You're not Australian, you're Asian?', but they probably do.

It's also impressive that you speak three languages fluently- English, Mandarin and Cantonese.

Oh, and I can turn my Aussie accent on and off.

Can I hear your American accent?

(American accent) I call this my semi-American accent, because most of my friends are from America. But when I go back to Australia, or when I'm with Brits or with Aussies (Australian accent) I automatically switch back.

How did you get your break in acting?

I got spotted on the street by a talent agent in Sydney and started modelling in high school for the pocket money. My strength was in TV commercials, which involved acting. I got flown to Asia a lot and during uni (university) I got cast in a lead role for a TV show that was kind of like Friends so that's how I got into acting. I sort of fell into it.

But then I thought I had to 'grow up' and 'get a real job'. I think most Asian people who work in the creative industry would know what I'm talking about. Most parents prefer us to get a 'proper' job--you know what I mean. A nine to five, clock-in, clock-out job. No one in my family is in the entertainment industry, so I wasn't the black sheep, so to speak, but the different sheep. I went to New York and worked as an account exec at an advertising agency for a few months. I was good at it and my boss loved me, but it didn't make me feel alive. That's when I realized that acting is what I really love. So now I'm back in entertainment, pursuing what I love with passion and focus. When you love what you do, the little things don't get you down.

Can you tell me a bit about your upcoming Hollywood film The Man with the Iron Fists ?

I wish I could, but I can't reveal anything right now! But watch out for Osric Chau, who is also in the film!

Follow Grace on her official website at AliveNotDead.com and her tweets at @Grace__Huang.

To find out more about Bloodtraffick, visit the official Facebook page.
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Beth Hong is a freelance journalist and managing editor of InDepth at Schema Magazine. She likes kimchi, poutine, and everything in between. You can follow her on Twitter @metrolens or check out her site BethHong.com.