NAVIGATING MUSIC DURING THE PANDEMIC

BANDEMIC: WAYS THAT LOCAL MUSICIANS HELD ON TO MUSIC DURING THE PANDEMIC

H. TOOTH

CONTRIBUTOR

As musicians get used to life at the height of a new normal, the signi cance of creative expression becomes evident. e need to feel inspired and the urge to create moves beyond restrictions as we adapt. We express ourselves in new ways despite our circumstances. Creative expression preserves some semblance of connectedness—whether it be from sharing music remotely or performing under restricted conditions.

Our inclination to share our creative projects with our community stems from our need to be heard. During a pandemic, it is easy to lose touch with the things that de ne us.

Amid the slew of major bands having to cancel tours, musicians operating locally were impacted by the pandemic as well. Having been forced to close for months at a time, the Starlight and Chainsaw in Waterloo are just two venues that faced permanent closure in 2020. Venues were closing as a result of the pandemic, bands are xed in their extended hiatuses and things were looking bleak for musicians in general.

As restrictions eased, there was an in ux of alternative venues like art galleries, basements, and back yards that became music venues. Gourmet, a weirdo-pop out t located in Cambridge, helped keep music alive by hosting a clandestine show somewherein the woods along the river blu s in Galt. e duo consists of Kiddo Riddell and Michael Warrington.

“In the fall, we ended up purchasing a gas-powered generator and we were able to organize a few small, socially distanced backyard shows with other friends and local artists. Establishing some sort of normalcy was key and provided us an outlet for new music we had been working on,” Riddell said.

As stories of bands adapting to our unprecedented situation circulate, the need to create and share music remains important. B.A. Johnston incorporated public health regulations like having sanitizer on stage into his performances—he even performed under a tarp in front of a crowd.

“I’ve been pretty busy playing [in] people’s driveways. People de nitely missed music and even if they couldn’t see a show in a bar, they were more than ready to see one on their deck,” Johnston said.

Alternative spaces are instrumental in allowing artists to perform. ey have been a signi cant contributor to our communities by upli ing artists and providing spaces to perform. ose who operate these alternative spaces—as much as those who occupy them in support—play an important role in our communities.

Tori Dawn of Blankie navigated the pandemic in solitude as they prepared for an album release. Dawn is a songwriter whose introspection serves as a gateway into their creative process.

“Over the last two years of the pandemic, I’ve been able to ll my rst ever loop pedal with songs I’ve made in my many moments of solitude. ey were just for me, a way to stay connected to my spirit and combat depression. A lot of those songs came to me right away so they feel really real,” Dawn said.

Playing music with people is like a psychic language. e ceremonious practice o ers a sense of connectedness during a time when we are usually distanced.

Local musician Dan nds solace in making music with people. ey discuss the signi cance of music in their own life. Dan nds creative purpose in collaborating with local musicians—they helped Dawn with recording and mixing a collection of songs.

“Music is such a big part of my life and, thankfully, it can be there for me when, because of the pandemic, other important things have gone away. Listening to music is still as enjoyable as ever, and I think there’s something extra inspiring about artists releasing anything right now,” they said.

“I’ve been pretty inactive in writing/ recording, but I’ve been jamming with some great folks here and there, and taking all the time to work on my home studio space. Just as I was nishing up with that, a friend reached out for help with recording and mixing, which in turn got me motivated to create again,” Dan said.

Isolation can in uence creativity for the better. Eric Dimock creates art and releases music under the enterprise of Acid Damage. Dimock’s ambient/ noise art uses minimal instrumentation to create detailed soundscapes. In his creative process, Dimock embraces isolation.

Dimock was in a few simultaneous projects pre-pandemic. During the pandemic, he used the lockdowns to engage with music more.

“Once we locked down, I started learning the piano and deliberately making complicated loops and music, then not recording it, turning all the gear o , the same way when you start just learning and doing ‘cause that’s the point of it. I also listened to more music than I would have in three years and tried to buy as much music as I could through hitting up Bandcamp Fridays,” he said.

Albums created during the pandemic are each an example of creative resilience. ey serve as an undeniable indication that the urge to make and do things will not su er stagnation for long. Musicians nd di erent ways to cope with the same problem. For one musician, lockdowns can bring upon the opportunity to experiment and to learn new skills. For another, they can emphasize the signi cance of building and maintaining musical relationships with people. Our need to collaborate and to share our work is the driving force behind a ourishing creative community. Having experienced a pandemic collectively, our hardships have given way to remarkable insights. e impulse to create feels more like a biological imperative as we begin to reconnect with our communities. Tori Dawn of Blankie performs vocals and with a synthesizer. UNITTWENTYNINE CONTRIBUTED PHOTO

Dan plays a synthesizer in their home studio. JACKSON SCHOTT PHOTO

IS OUR APPROACH TO CLIMATE ACTION JUST?

On Mar. 12, local climate activism groups will observe a Day of Action for a Just Transition in the Huron Natural Area. KATARINA WEX PHOTO

O CANADA

ALTAY COSKUN

COLUMNIST

If there ever was the illusion that society stood still during the pandemic, the honking of the truckers in Ottawa last month may have been the loudest signal for us to notice that the world around us is changing rapidly. e truth is that COVID-19 has not slowed down but accelerated change. In principle, such a dynamic could have provided us with opportunities to enhance climate action and to facilitate the goal that Canadians have set for themselves together with many other nations: a just transition towards a sustainable society, one that limits the devastating e ects of global warming and also reduces poverty. e reality, however, looks quite sobering. Climate change is progressing at an even higher speed than predicted. Global warming is currently hovering at around 1.0°C increase compared to the pre-industrial age. is has been enough to result in the two most devastating natural disasters known in Canadian history in 2021: the devastation of Lytton, B.C. in July by wild re and the deluge that inundated parts of the same province in November.

Catastrophes of such frequency and dimension have been predicted for a long time–scientists have been warning us about man-made global warming and its dire consequences since at least the 1960s. It took another quartercentury before the United Nations could convince leading industrialized nations in Kyoto to address the main cause of climate change by pledging the gradual reduction of ‘greenhouse gases,’ most of all carbon dioxide, in the Kyoto Protocol.

Further progress was slow, but the development regained pace when the United Nations came together in Paris in 2015, to specify for the rst time the overall goal.

“[ e goal is] holding the increase in the global average temperature to well below 2°C above pre-industrial levels and pursuing e orts to limit the temperature increase to 1.5°C above pre-industrial levels, recognizing that this would signi cantly reduce the risks and impacts of climate change,” the document said. e reason for some states to stall the progress of this collaborative agenda is basically the same as for those who declare man-made climate change a “hoax”: both are more driven by shortterm material interests than the greater good. Some bluntly insist on their freedom to do what serves them right now, leaving the bill of their actions to others. Some admit more elegantly to the need of instant change, but demand that others should start.

In Canada, we like to blame such sel shness on rogue states, big business or corrupt politicians, but there are strong indicators that we behave with the same kind of egotism as individuals: it’s either the lowest price or the greatest convenience by which most consumers make their decisions. All of us still have a long way to go.

To the signatories of the Paris Agreement, it was clear that the common objective could only be achieved by a balanced combination of science, e ciency and justice.

“To strengthen the global response to the threat of climate change, in the context of sustainable development and e orts to eradicate poverty… e imperatives of a just transition of the workforce and the creation of decent work and quality jobs in accordance with nationally de ned development priorities,” the agreement reads. In the wake of the conference, many good-willing countries declared their intention of climate neutrality (mostly) by 2050, while acknowledging the need for a just transition to achieve this. For some, this may seem like an additional burden; others regard such a radical ecological transformation as the greatest opportunity ever to establish a higher level of equity and sustainability, both among our fellow citizens and partner states. e biggest collaborative project in the history of mankind will fail, unless there is a fair division of the costs and arising opportunities and unless many of us go ahead with courage and generosity.

As a nation trusting in science and committed to equity, Canada was on board from early on. But as a country disproportionately bene tting from the mining of fossil fuels, actions were slow to follow. Like the rest of the global community, we did not see the need to do the obvious thing and act even before knowing all the answers. For this, we needed the inspiration of a schoolgirl from Sweden.

Only before the 2019 elections, our Liberal government nally declared a Climate Emergency and further promised to establish a Ministry of Just Transition. To date, this has not yet materialized. Instead, a consultation of Canadians on what a Just Transition may be was launched. is has been ongoing for quite a while—and perhaps it should continue for the next 30 years. Some intermediate results and a plan for immediate or imminent action are long overdue. Compared to many other (especially provincial) governments, it would be unfair to deny that our federal government has a plan, but it su ers from the typical weakness of postponing e ective measures. is way, an even higher portion of the costs is imposed on future generations, which does not strike me as just. e Council of Canadians and 350 Canada want to increase the momentum of the federal government by raising nationwide attention to the urgency to move. Dozens of local groups throughout the country will organize events at the Day of Action for a Just Transition on Saturday, Mar. 12, 2022. e timing is particularly welcome, since it will also remind Ontarians to voice their concerns in the run-up to the provincial elections in June. e event in KW will be organized by the Climate Justice Working Group of the University of Waterloo, of which I am a member. For some years now, this group has been trying to inform climatefriendly decisions, such as re-investing, or ‘divesting’, funds sustainably and encouraging more sustainable lifestyles in individuals. A particular focus of the group is justice, a notion that still needs to be explored – without making its complexity a pretext for delaying action. e countrywide map of actions promises many creative approaches to articulating the importance of a just transition. Some of them will be colourful and loud, located in city centers. e event in our community will seek more quiet but no less powerful inspiration from the beauty and complexity of the Huron Natural Area, which is also a cultural heritage site. Val Rynnimeri, the master plan co-ordinator of the multidisciplinary team that created the Huron Natural Area, will guide us through it. ere will also be room for everyone from Kitchener-Waterloo to become part of a conversation that may challenge and inspire us as individuals and connect us as a community.