syphon—huffing that gasoline, making that scene—with logan caldbeck in Marfa, TX; meredith dault in Kingston, ON; dagmara genda in Saskatoon, SK; stefan st-laurent in Baie-Saint-Paul, QC; and parker branch in London, ON. syphon honours the etymology of the term "hoser," referring to those farmers who, on the Canadian prairies during the great depression of the '30s, would syphon gas from their neighbours’ vehicles with a hose. we reclaim the somewhat derogatory expression and apply it to all those trying to make ends meet in artist-run culture.
a publication of modern fuel artist-run centre kingston, ontario issue 1, volume 3 spring 2011 issn number: 1480-0306
distributed freely at select artist-run centres inside canada, by subscription, or online at www. modernfuel.org/ syphon
photo by logan caldbeck "In 1954 the students at the segregated school were forced to bury "Mr. Spanish," a casket full of Spanish words the children wrote on slips of paper. At the 2007 school reunion the former students unearthed a small coffin filled with Mexican cultural symbols."
credit for cover logan caldbeck was born in Vancouver, BC. She has a BFA from Concordia University in Montreal, QC. While enrolled at Concordia, she began documenting hunting paraphernalia in small Vermont and West Texan towns. She has exhibited her photography in Canada and the US. (www.logancaldbeck.com)
photos of participating artists at the 2010 baie-saint-paul international symposium of contemporary art
credit for spread Co-directed by artists Anna Madelska & Jason Hallows, parker branch is an independent micro-museum and archive in London, Ontario focusing on collections, artifacts, and ephemera brought together through associative logic and incidental attractions. (www.parkerbranch.ca)
syphon is an arts and culture publication, based in Kingston, Ontario that is meant to act as a conduit between the arts community in Kingston and communities elsewhere. Syphon has a mandate to feature local, national, and international arts coverage with an emphasis on arts scenes and activities that are located outside of the major art centres found in larger cities. The publication aims to engage a readership that includes its subscribers, the greater Kingston community and communities beyond. modern fuel artist-run centre is a non-profit organization facilitating the production, presentation, and interpretation of contemporary visual, time-based and interdisciplinary arts. Modern Fuel aims to meet the professional development needs of emerging and mid-career local, national and international artists, from diverse cultural communities, through exhibition, discussion, and mentorship opportunities. Modern Fuel supports innovation and experimentation, and is committed to the education of interested publics and the diversification of its audiences. board of directors Matthew Hills, President Catherine Toews, Vice President Riva Symko, Treasurer Donna-lee Iffla, Secretary Christine Dewancker Lisa Figge Wendy Huot Troy Leaman Pat McDermott Melinda Richka staff & personnel Michael Davidge, Artistic Director Bronwyn McLean, Admin Director Ted Worth, Bookkeeper and Finance Modern Fuel would not be able to function without the generosity and spirit of its volunteers. 21 Queen Street Kingston, Ontario, Canada k7k 1a1 613 548 4883 email@example.com www.modernfuel.org Gallery Hours: Tuesday to Saturday 12 noon to 5pm editorial & publishing for syphon Michael Davidge, Editor-in-chief Vincent Perez, Editor-at-large & Art Director Printed at McLaren Press, Bracebridge, Ontario.
Stefan St-Laurent reports from the 2010 Baie-SaintPaul International Symposium of Contemporary Art
had seen the catalogues and heard many great stories and rumours about the longest running art symposium in Canada, but had never visited. When I was approached to guest curate its 28th edition, I reluctantly said yes, knowing how unfamiliar I was with the idea of a contemporary art symposium, and the research I would have to do to create an event that would excite the public imagination in this isolated region of Canada, Baie-Saint-Paul, Québec. Since its inception, the symposium has mainly functioned as an open creative space, where visitors are allowed to come into direct contact with artists and their production. For close to 20 years, the symposium has been held in a downtown hockey arena during the whole month of August, where over 20,000 visitors descend on the small city (pop. 7,300) to exchange with contemporary artists at work. After making many visits to the city, I chose the theme “Unity Makes Us Stronger,” wanting to bridge the gap between contemporary art and craft, to create a space where artists and artisans could dialogue and learn together through an array of master classes, artist talks and events. Traditionally a paintingfocused symposium, I took a big leap of faith and invited 12 artists who worked in many different ways, through painting, printmaking, architectural installation, performance, video, sculpture and photography. A few years ago, when the symposium shifted to new practices in the visual arts, the regional community reacted strongly, and instated a permanent painting symposium an hour away in Quebec City, which still takes place on the exact dates of the Baie-SaintPaul symposium! This surely took pressure off the symposium organizers who were very reluctant to go back to painting no matter how strong the pressure. The public has indeed grown to appreciate contemporary art in all its forms, and I was lucky to be able to push the mandate even further by inviting artists who are rarely shown in Quebec and
whose works are not necessarily co-opted yet by the Canadian art market. The local and national media outlets gave unanimous praise for this edition of the symposium, not particularly for its artistic content, but for the efforts made in inviting artists that love being around people, artists who privilege collaboration and exchange in all aspects of their practice. Some past editions of the symposium had turned a bit sour, where artists built curtained walls to block visitors from even seeing them or their works, and as can be imagined, the community was quick to turn its back too. I knew after doing enough research that it would be absolutely imperative to find artists who would get along with each other and who would be able to handle encountering thousands of visitors without getting cranky, annoyed, or worse, belligerent. During the symposium, I could see in front of my very eyes when people connected with the artists, and when they didn’t, a privilege of being on-site full-time. Our tour guides learned to develop different presentations depending on the groups that came in, and we invited the esteemed Québécois personality Louise Portal to narrate an audio guide, a first for the symposium. We had decided as a team that we needed to make sure visitors had a strong grasp of the artists’ projects before they came into contact with them, so that more rich exchanges could occur. As mentioned earlier, the master classes by local and international artists was a crowd favourite, and showed us the keen interest of visitors in not just talking about art, but making art themselves. I still get teary eyed when I look back at the Faith Ringgold quiltmaking workshop. An influential artist now in her 80s, Ringgold coordinated the production of a collaborative quilt to be made in the arena on a Saturday morning, inspired by the theme “Unity Makes Us Stronger.” I came in very early to make sure things were on track, and to my astonishment, there was already a gathering on the side of the arena of mainly senior women who were ready to get to work. Many in their 80s themselves, none accepted my help to bring their sewing machines inside. They all took them out of their car trunks, and walked stoically inside the arena with their heads held high, not smiling, just very proud. It had a chilling effect on me, one I rarely feel in the art world these days. Afterwards, almost all 30 participants came up to me in private to say they had waited so long to do something like that. Hearing that comment over and over again on that day made me rush to the sweaty arena locker room to have a good cry. It reconfirmed for
photo of duke & battersby's beauty plus pity by kate yüksel
me the strong desire many people have to be involved in the art world, but never get a real opportunity to do so. Artists and residents were not shy in telling me what they liked and disliked about previous editions or mine, which made my job much easier. Historically, the symposium had privileged Quebec-based artists, and it inevitably became in some years a sparring match between Montreal and Quebec City artists. And cliques were quickly formed. This hermetic dialogue between two art scenes was seen as insular and somewhat vulgar—certainly not what the symposium intended in its foundation years where painters were diverse and ecstatic to find themselves together. Seeing pictures of artists such as Jean-Paul Riopelle or Françoise Sullivan having a blast at the symposium in the early ’80s served as a main inspiration for my ‘version’ - it had to be communal. The symposium illuminated and surprised me in many ways. You start off doing curatorial work, selecting artists and preparing the catalogue, but once you are on site with all the participating artists, your role shifts dramatically, and you become a bona fide experience manager and studio assistant. Having so much proximity with the artists for over 30 days allows for very intimate collaborations and experiences, and this may have been the most revealing aspect of the event. Nicolas Mavrikakis and Guy Sioui Durand were among the first curators to open up the symposium to the wide-range of artistic practices emanating from various regions of Québec, Canada and the world, and they were quite generous in sharing with me tips and recommendations that impacted this edition. The director and staff were also excited and eager to bring new changes to the symposium. In this general atmosphere of collaboration and exchange, the theme of this symposium was reinforced: unity does indeed make us stronger. It all but reminded me of the human dimension of art, and how we should always do our best to make these projects great human experiences above all. 28th edition artists: Faith Ringgold (New York, NY); Bakerygroup: Michel DuVernet, Marcin Padlewski and Anissa Szeto (Lanark Highlands, ON); Seripop: Yannick Desranleau and Chloe Lum (Montreal, QC); Nicholas Galanin (Sitka, AK); Sonny Assu (Vancouver, BC); Cedric Bomford (Berlin), Jim Bomford (Cowichan Bay, BC) and Nathan Bomford (Victoria, BC); Jean-Robert Drouillard (Québec City, QC); Geneviève et Matthieu (Rouyn-Noranda, QC); Benoît Aquin (Montréal, QC).
For close to 20 years, the symposium has been held in a downtown hockey arena during the whole month of August, where over 20,000 visitors descend on the small city (population 7,300) to exchange with contemporary artists at work.
stefan st-laurent is Curator of Galerie SAW Gallery in Ottawa. He was guest curator of the Biennale d’art performatif de Rouyn-Noranda in 2008, and will again be curator of the upcoming Symposium d’art contemporain de Baie-SaintPaul, which will run from July 29 to August 28, 2011. For more information on the symposium, visit www.symposium-baiesaintpaul.com.
installation view of william macdonnell's ruin upon ruin, acrylic on canvas, 2010 photo by bronwyn mclean
Meredith Dault reconnoiters with William MacDonnell. november 22, 2010
n exhibition of paintings by Kingston artist William MacDonnell and Bowmanville-based artist Todd Tremeer, called Reconnaissance, opened at Modern Fuel Artist-Run Centre last year on November 13th. Not long afterwards, Meredith Dault, a local writer and graduate student, happened by the gallery for a chat with William MacDonnell. They talked about his experiences in Croatia and Afghanistan, about history, and about life as an artist. Here (edited and condensed for your reading pleasure) is part of that conversation. MD: So here we are - surrounded by some of your impressive, big canvases. Where should we start? WM: Well, I suppose I should start by saying the show is not a retrospective in any sense. Instead, it’s a smattering of work from the past (starting in the late 1980s), including two paintings that I have done recently...so it’s a big range. MD: Why did you choose to exhibit these paintings, then? WM: Partly it’s because I had them in my studio (laughs). A lot of the paintings that I would have liked to put in this show are owned by others. MD: The work included in this show spans a huge range, time-wise, but they all seem consistent in theme...the effects of war, right? WM: Well, yes, but stylistically, the two newest paintings (of Afghanistan) are a little different—they are more realistically painted. But then, they were painted for a different audience: the military itself. Because of that, I felt I needed to depict things more accurately. A gunner, for example, would want a gun to look right, whereas when you’re painting for an art audience, they aren’t as interested in those kinds of details. They might be looking at the general atmosphere, or the way the sky is painted. MD: How did it happen that you were doing paintings for the military?
WM: I was one of three artists invited by the military to visit peacekeeping operations in Croatia. That was back in 1994. I was teaching at ACAD (the Alberta College of Art and Design) at the time, and I saw a note posted, asking for anyone interested in doing that kind of work to call a number...and so I did. It reached a Colonel who was just retiring. He came and looked at my work, and because so much of it is based in history to begin with...well...it seemed like a natural fit. A student and I then made the trip with him to the Krajina region of the former Yugoslavia. Basically, for about 10 days we went on foot patrols and vehicle patrols and talked to different people. We saw ruined towns...and there was a church graveyard down this road [He gestures at his painting, Tragedy on a Country Road, which depicts a crater at the edge of a long road against a bright red sky]. It was a paved road, and each time we drove down it with a different driver, and every one made a point of stopping to show us the same spot where it had been blown up a month or so earlier and a young Lieutenant had been killed (or seriously injured). Until then, all the drivers had thought it was a safe road, because it was paved. In my work, I often underpaint my skies with pink, because it allows warmth to come through. With this painting, however, my daughter walked into my studio before I had painted in the rest of the sky—so it was just pink—and she said, “No, it’s perfect.” So I went with her feeling on this one, and she was right. It’s a far better picture than it would have been with a ‘normal’ sky. MD: Tell me about some of the other paintings in the room. WM: Well, before Croatia, I had visited Berlin a lot. If you’re interested in European history at all, then Berlin is a central place. I visited four or five times. I lived there for the better part of a year back in 1991, which wasn’t long after the Berlin Wall came down. When I was there, I started going around looking for the city’s history—a lot of which has been deliberately forgotten. I looked for places where things had happened, using photographs. So the famous photographs of Nazis burning books, for example, well now that place is a huge parking lot. This painting here [He gestures at On The Wilhelmstrasse, Later in the Day] came out of a series of paintings I did of balconies in Berlin. This balcony is Hitler’s balcony on the Chancellery building by Albert Speer. This is where he would review troops. The rest of the paintings in the room (including the newest painting, Ruin Upon Ruin, which I just finished) are from when I went to Afghanistan as part of an official war art program run by the Department of [National] Defense about four years ago.
MD: It sounds like you take history seriously, Bill. WM: Well, it’s all about history. MD: Your life, or your work? WM: (laughs) My work. But I read quite a bit of history. And I grew up in the military. My dad was in the air force. Because of that, I went to 10 or 11 schools in 12 years of formal schooling! MD: And you were in the military for a while, too, right? When did you enlist? WM: When I was in college. I joined an officer training program for people who are in university. MD: And were you studying art at the time? WM: No, chemistry! MD: How did you get from chemistry to art! WM: There were artists in my family, so it was always there in the back of my mind. And I was always interested in looking at paintings. But being practical and needing a job, teaching seemed to be one that I could get quickly. I taught the sciences for a while. MD: And then you ended up teaching at the Alberta College of Art and Design for 25 years! Why did you decide to move back to this part of the country three years ago? WM: Well, my wife wanted to retire to New Zealand, and I was interested in going to Halifax, since I had lived there when I went to NSCAD. But Kingston was our second choice. MD: And this is your first show at Modern Fuel, right? WM: Yes. In some ways I suppose that I wish the show were a bit bigger, so that people could get to know my work a bit better. Reconnaissance was on-view at Modern Fuel Artist Run Centre, from Novemer 13 to December 18, 2010. meredith dault is a Kingston-based freelance journalist. She is currently working towards an M.A. in the Cultural Studies program at Queen's University. (www.meredithdault.com)
Michael Davidge discovers that, in the dark, all newspapers are grey.
s advertisers flee and classifieds pages atrophy, newspapers are desperately searching for new ways to stay alive and are either shrinking or folding in a challenging economical climate. An exhibition at the New Museum last fall announced, in its title, the appearance of “The Last Newspaper.” Perhaps a little before its time, it featured a variety of contemporary artists and artists’ collectives whose works either incorporated newspapers or were newspapers in their own right. At one time, the newspaper was cutting-edge technology and its incorporation in a work made it as unmistakeably Modern as a collage by Picasso. Now, even as the newspaper is being eclipsed by the latest communications tools, artists continue to work with the medium. Just as artists tend to push boundaries by using new technology for artistic purposes, even fostering the development of new technologies for that very reason, they also tend to be drawn to the recently outmoded, and harness the emotional and perhaps overlooked aesthetic qualities of discarded items that have been deemed no longer useful. Given that artists are generally out of step with the workaday world, either before or behind their times, the latter materials, found in flea markets or on the street, can be good to work with when struggling to make both ends meet. It will not be surprising, then, if newspapers should be increasingly embraced as a form by artists and that the newspaper should continue on in a chimerical fashion after having served its more utilitarian purpose. Particularly now, with the potential to stream up-to-the-second newsfeeds tailored to your exact location into a hand-held device, newspapers do seem to be of another time. One of the things that struck me as being the most preposterous (and anachronistic) in the film adaptation of The Girl Who Played with Fire was the scene where Lisbeth Salander, hacker extraordinaire, finds out she is wanted for murder because she sees it in a newspaper headline at the corner store where she is buying cigarettes. When the Film Forum ran a film series called “The Newspaper Piccontinued on page 7
installation view of dagmara genda's limp landscape, vinyl installation at the mendel art gallery, 2010
Dagmara Genda imagines Regional Internationalism.
fter returning to Saskatoon from a year abroad in London, I began a large-scale vinyl installation about the prairie landscape for the Mendel Art Gallery. The piece might be described as a collage of motifs sourced from paintings by Saskatchewan artists in the Mendel's permanent collection. As someone not originally from Saskatchewan, the process of making the work was a way to confront my own ambivalence toward the prairie landscape, a long-time dominant motif of regional art. In fact I would go so far as to say Saskatchewan has a topographical consciousness that is more complex than that of Alberta or Ontario. Lacking the usual natural tourists draws like mountains or ocean, Saskatchewan has been nicknamed "The Gap," the province where you can watch your dog run away for three days. Its expansive landscape has become a defining motif of prairie literature and it also dominates local art in the form of plowed fields, wooden grain elevators and distant horizons. So strong is the lure of editor's letter continued
ture” in 2010, the most recent newspaper picture included was All the President’s Men, which came out over three decades ago in 1976. While it may not have been “The Last Newspaper Picture,” I would argue that the film was the high water mark for the newspaper as modernist form, its worldview to be turned on its head in the Post-Modern era, where the last gasps of the Grand Narrative can be heard in the fulminations of conspiracy theorists. The dissolution of journalistic credibility may be less of an issue in the atmosphere of post-Watergate cynicism than the disintegration of public credulity. A philosopher of “weak thought” like Gianni Vattimo would rejoice at the prospect of the newspaper’s reception solely as an aesthetic object, whose surface is overlaid with a web of competing interpretations. Maybe now that the newspaper will be less useful as a promotional tool, there will be more room in it for critical reflection and untimely meditations. If the newspaper be dead, then long live the newspaper. michael davidge is an artist and writer and he is currently the Artistic Director of Modern Fuel Artist-Run Centre.
landscape that it has caused an equally strong resistance. In January 2009 the MFA group exhibition at the University of Saskatchewan was titled "It's Not About the Landscape," as if to affirm that even when the landscape is not present, the geography saturates all artistic production in its absence. So as I decided to face the landscape by reproducing it on a monumental scale, I began to seriously consider the impact of the region on art production, what regionalism means and why it creates the rifts it does.
leaves one confused about what seems like an initially simple distinction. The more one thinks about it, the more international art resembles the status of English as the "international" language of commerce.
Regionalism in art has quite a colourful history and one movement in particular bears the name itself. The Regionalists were a group of painters in the American Midwest who gained national prominence in the 1930s. Their spokesperson, Thomas Craven, is today dismissed for his "anti-Semitic, rabidly isolationist brand of cultural nationalism"¹ but his influence in the ’30s has been compared to that of Clement Greenberg in the ’60s.² Despite Craven's vehement opposition to modernism, he did not see himself as conservative. He just as vehemently denounced the "sterile academicism" championed by socalled conservative critics and pronounced it as elitist as modernism.³ At the time, Regionalist work, characterized by a sympathetic portrayal of American working-class culture, caused a notable rift in American aesthetics. Propped by John Dewey's theories on the individual as part and product of a larger social body, Regionalists understood the artist to play an instrumental role in society rather than in an abstract realm of rarefied individualism. Craven summed up these concerns in a remarkably postmodern assertion, "plastic relationships are determined by human relationships."⁴ But Regionalism and its patriotic appeal to a national culture was understandably marginalized after World War II and today is relegated to quaint Americana and kitsch.
This marginalization of regional art movements was not exclusive to the American Midwest, however. The regional everywhere is almost always viewed in opposition to the international. This is ultimately unsurprising since the Regionalists formed in protest to the influence and exclusivity of the "International" New York art scene. But the irony that emerges from this pitting of regional against international is that the international appears to have a very specific location, or at least a few very specific locations--New York, London and Berlin. Known as international cities, these cosmopolitan centres have much in common. They are products of a Western European tradition. Of course they are also home to a multicultural population but so are many other "non-international" European and North American cities. It
... could not an artist in New York be identified as regional or was he, by virtue of living in New York, international?
The emphasis on international art, and the plethora of international fairs, biennales and festivals promoting it, seems vaguely parochial in an economic climate where "buy local" has become a common mantra against an exploitative globalization. The term begins to function not as descriptive but ideological. The problem of a placeless international art is the same problem that modernism faced when Regionalism questioned its influence. If modernism laid claim to a transcendent aesthetic ideal without direct relation to society, it might have aimed to speak to everyone but it equally well could have spoken to no one. And those it did speak to could more often than not be isolated to a very specific locale—New York City. But could not an artist in New York be identified as regional or was he, by virtue of living in New York, international? Are the regional values of cosmopolitan cities rendered international because they are widely exported as product in a cultural economy? And is the artist living outside these centres fated to make regional work? Now of course there is plenty of regional art that is simply a reaction to internationalism and that art is often uncritical and celebratory. But, as I was attempting to make a work with both regional and "international" relevance, I came to wonder if there is potential for another type of regional art--an art that engages specificity and critique. An example from the film world shows me this is possible. Most people have probably only heard of Polish director Andrzej Wajda's Oscar-nominated film Katyn (2007) in passing. This is no surprise because, to date, the film has been unsuccessful in finding English distribution.⁵ The oft-cited reason for this lack of interest is that the movie, a retelling of the Soviet execution of 20,000 Polish Army officers in the Katyn forest, dealt with
too many themes to be accessible to a foreign audience. Wajda responded that the film, with its interweaving of personal stories and historical narratives, was never intended for anyone other than a Polish viewership. The question that immediately springs to mind is whether or not the film would have the same relevance to Poles had it spoken to an international audience and which audience should in fact be addressed? Does the film's specificity diminish its quality? Katyn, for all intents and purposes, is an unapologetically regional film but was highly successful in its own right; it garnered an Oscar nomination. Rather than attempting to achieve international acclaim, Wajda's film has become part of a national cinema that speaks powerfully to its audience. There is much evidence to support that regionalism, as well as a concomitant concern with nationality, has come to the forefront within recent years. Economy, environment, immigration and cultural clashes all lend support to this assertion. Perhaps it is time to explore this specificity within a global culture that would have liked to leave such categories in the past. Perhaps we have come far enough and have learned enough from the explosion of nationalism in the twentieth century to rethink the topic today. Could regional work, like Wajda's film, play a role in the creation of a real plurality larger than the pluralism that culminates in international cities? Could there be multiple centres participating in a larger dialogue—a dialogue that we will not be able to understand within any given tradition of thought but must be continually negotiated? Of course erasing the glamour and economic profit of an "international" scene is somewhat unrealistic but as an artist who lives in a small centre and is simultaneously interested in what goes on elsewhere, I think a more productive relationship between regions is not only desirable but possible. ¹ Barbara Haskell, The Great American Century : art & culture 1900-1950 (New York : Whitney Museum of Art, 1999), 223. ² Dennis Raverty, Struggle Over Modernism : purity and experience in American art criticism (Cranbury, NJ : Rosemont Publishing and Printing Co., 2005), 68. ³ Ibid., 79. ⁴ Ibid., 74. ⁵ Anne Applebaum, "A Movie That Matters," The New York Review of Books, February 14, 2008. http://www.nybooks.com/articles/archives/2008/feb/14/a-movie-that-matters/. Accessed: November 21, 2010.
dagmara genda is a Polish-born Canadian artist who works in drawing and installation. She finished her MFA at the University of Western Ontario in 2007 and has exhibited across Canada since then.
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IN THE MAIN GALLERY: June 18-July 23, Opening June 18, 7pm CONDOLENCE BY GREG STAATS (Toronto, ON), is a video and photographic exhibition examining the artist’s process of reconnecting with the traditional Haudenosaunee [Iroquois] restorative aesthetic of condolence ceremonies wherein individual grief is borne by all present and can be understood as an archive of shared experience. IN THE STATE OF FLUX GALLERY: June 18-July 23, Opening June 18, 7pm MORNING GLORY BY KATE YÜKSEL, an exhibit of photographs which explore moments of fragility, uncertainty and tenderness Sunday, June 19 at 2pm MODERN FUEL’S ANNUAL GENERAL MEETING IN THE MAIN GALLERY: August 6-September 10, 2011, Opening August 6th, 7pm 13TH ANNUAL REGIONAL JURIED SHOW featuring local artists selected by a guest curator. Deadline for submissions: July 1, 2011. IN THE STATE OF FLUX GALLERY: August 6-September 10, 2011, Opening August 6th, 7pm NEW WORKS BY ULRICH PANZER 21 QUEEN ST. KINGSTON ON K7K 1A1 613.484.5464 MODERNFUEL@BELLNET.CA WWW.MODERNFUEL.ORG
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Issue 3 of Syphon, with contributions from Logan Caldbeck, Meredith Dault, Dagmara Genda, the Parker Branch, and Stefan St-Laurent.