Faces 'n' Spaces Back to Magazine

Woodworking is one the first known trades of man. When mud and rocks just weren’t cutting it, humans picked up wood and began to shape it. With all kinds of needs arising, wood was bent, woven, and joined together with glue made from animal hide. Soon after, entrances to caves were sheltered. Then they wanted to make their investment last, so oils and fats we’re rubbed in to stop waterlogging. Fast forward a few thousand years and Folk Skateboards is born. Here, a young Andy Dobson works at his craft; the art of making custom skateboards. Your needs are met. Your cruiser awaits you.

Shops are the heartbeat of the skate community. They’re the place where every sub-sect of skater goes to get their gear, watch videos, read magazines, and talk shit. From the tech crew that scan every millimeter of the new shoes and grabs the new videos as soon as they are out, to the strange rangers that don’t read mags or watch videos, but needs new 56s every couple months. There is a standard for a core shop. Certain things have become expected when we walk into a 100% skate-only shop. A certain amount of shop branding is expected, if not a full line of clothes, including a hefty amount of shirts and special artist edition products. A talented team that represents the best of local skaters of all types helps promote the shop at every spot they skate. Videos and web clips usually come out with a semi-regularity, reminding the locals that the shop is up to great things. Each of these, including demos, promotional appearances, and all of what is considered normal for a shop to do, has been directly inspired by what FTC has done. Any shop owner who hasn’t been stoked by what FTC have accomplished and built is either delusional or an idiot. Shops worldwide look to FTC as the pinnacle of what a shop can be.

Vancouver’s Downtown Eastside is infamous for its visible repulsiveness. To outsiders, it’s the armpit of Canada’s West Coast, but to most Vancouver musicians, it’s the place where we work, live and play. Standing alongside the old hotels, dive bars and crack deals is the Abbott Jam Space, which for the past five years has been home to almost every Vancouver band worth mentioning. Black Mountain, Shearing Pinx, Blood Meridian, Sex Negatives, The Organ, Pride Tiger and many more have spent countless hours in this below-street-level cave, toiling over songs, making videos and recording albums.

Winter in Montreal is anything but ideal for skateboarding—so is Canada in general when you think about it. Even the most convenient of places, like Vancouver, offer many obstacles like rain or short days that can restrict our skate time. Add transit, work, and average adult responsibilities to the equation, and the chances of skating on a daily basis are next to none anyway, even before any climatic restraints. For those in warmer places, all you need is a roof and a light to skate in January, but DIY takes a whole different meaning when you have to heat a building against freezing temperatures for six months of the year. Someone has to pay the rent. So in the same way one of Montreal’s depanneurs spring up, supply must meet demand, and the No Damn Good skate park and skate shop was born. It is a simple project, formed from opportunity, necessity, and a whole lot of innovative use of space.

Artist-run spaces are slippery beasts, even in the most stable times. Forget evolving neighbourhoods, rollercoaster economies, terrorism, fire, theft, landlords, thieving landlords, drug-induced fiery terrorist economies, and anything else that can easily stop an artist-run space in its tracks. Forget also the general disdain that most artists have for the quotidian duties of running a business, and it’s a wonder that these spaces exist at all, let alone survive for more time than it takes for the drugs to wear off, and reality to set in.  Philadelphia’s Space 1026 is an exception to the rule – a glowing neon anomaly in a city more receptive to pro sports and heavy industry. Founded in 1997, the workspace/gallery/venue has played home to countless driven artists and even more wayfaring miscreants. Inspired in part by the energy of the mid 90s chaos of Rhode Island’s “Fort Thunder”, Space 1026’s founders wanted to establish a space for “making, producing and creating, not for some outside world of aficionados, but for each other, for our own kind.”

face n’ spaces

A one-of-a-kind shop where you can find skateboards, fine cakes and an owner who bears a striking resemblance to Steve Olson.

[ o ] NICHOLAS

CAFÉ FOR CONTEMPORARY ART

wordsby tim sedo

Let’s start off with the name – “Café for Contemporary Art.” If you are anything like me, the name likely conjures up images of rotating community art, questionable open-mic nights and mediocre coffee. The Café for Contemporary Art, however, is nothing like this at all. To get an idea of what’s going on here, you first need to know something about the Café/Gallery’s owner and curator, Tyler Russell, and what he envisioned before he opened up this space in the newly emerging Lower Lonsdale neighbourhood of North Vancouver, BC.

[ o ] NICHOLAS

CAFÉ FOR CONTEMPORARY ART

wordsby tim sedo

Let’s start off with the name – “Café for Contemporary Art.” If you are anything like me, the name likely conjures up images of rotating community art, questionable open-mic nights and mediocre coffee. The Café for Contemporary Art, however, is nothing like this at all. To get an idea of what’s going on here, you first need to know something about the Café/Gallery’s owner and curator, Tyler Russell, and what he envisioned before he opened up this space in the newly emerging Lower Lonsdale neighbourhood of North Vancouver, BC.

FACES ‘N SPACES

with the OGs of Facebook.com

words and illustrationby Caleb Beyers

“Before the idea of online social networking had entered the popular consciousness, certainly before it had supplanted the tried and true face-to-face variety, twin brothers Cameron and Tyler Winklevoss had started a little website called Connect U. Their concept—“a way to share information about your life with your friends online”—had picked up considerable momentum when their then-chief programmer Mark Zuckerberg quit and started his own site: The Facebook…”

LIVING PURE

wordsby saelan twerdy photosby gordon nicholas

No Gold are building a recording studio. When I arrive at the backyard shed where Liam Butler, Jack Jutson, and Haley Pearse are in the middle of construction, the three of them are in work clothes, smearing cement onto the walls in thick, sculptural gobs while gentle piano music by the Watery Graves of Portland drifts out the door. Ever since the demise two years ago of their old band, Yukon, this upbeat, laid-back band of young Vancouver dudes has seemed to be on the verge of exploding into mass popularity. Their loose-limbed, wide-eyed take on African-inspired indie rock is as fresh as a summer breeze, the perfect West Coast opposite to the other African-influenced indie band, Vampire Weekend. While their East Coast counterparts write songs that are as impeccably neat and tidy and their preppy attire, No Gold’s tunes bounce along with a shaggy, casual shuffle that matches the inclusive, quasi-New Age mantras that greet you on their Myspace page: “living pure,” “great life,” “deepest family.” Perpetually lovable underdogs, No Gold have been – ahem – dogged by persistent setbacks that have delayed the recording of their debut again and again, despite their constant presence on the local live scene.

Hence this construction project. Up until recently, No Gold were practicing and recording at the Emergency Room, a more-or-less illegal venue in the loading dock of a fish-packing factory that was a major hub for Vancouver’s so-called Weird Punk scene – a scrappy, harsh-noise influenced set of bands that includes White Lung, Twin Crystals, and the Mutators (among many others). No Gold’s tropical vibes might seem like an odd fit in a such a grungy space but Haley amiably notes that, “We’re actually not that different. We all like drinking beer, hanging out, and making noise.” Unfortunately, making noise in Vancouver is a bit of a hassle: thanks to restrictive nightlife laws, a large percentage of the live music scene has been obliged to go underground to avoid harsh licensing fees and noise fines. Of course, playing in illegal venues has obvious downsides. After numerous break-ins, the crew behind the Emergency Room decided they couldn’t handle the security risks anymore, and they closed down towards the end of 2008.

At the beginning of this year, though, No Gold got a break. “Liam’s dad owns this house,” Jack explains, “and he hasn’t used that garage so he was just like, ‘You guys do something good with it.’” And so they began construction on what they’re now calling the Alien Workshop. Right now, it’s cave-like, it’s moist, unfinished cement walls scalloped in uneven patterns. Strange, sawtoothed protrusions of wooden lattice will eventually serve as sound baffles. When everything is finished, the band promises that it’s going to a mural-painted oasis of peace and relaxation. Until then, Jack and Liam are unemployed, and the three of them are devoting nearly all their waking hours to the project. “Financially, it’s not very good,” Jack admits. “But it is good, because I’ve sort of become a vegetarian as a result. I can’t afford to buy fancy meat and stuff. I like it! So much spare time.”

The idea is that having a place all to themselves will finally afford No Gold the chance to write and record their first album. They aim to have it done and released some time in the summer, but the role of the Alien Workshop will go on. “I can see this place in the summertime getting really nice,” Jack ruminates. “We’re amassing a really good crew of friends that have cabins and cottages and beach houses all around B.C. The plan, I think, is to split time between hanging out back here with the BBQ and then going to those cabins and cottages and hanging out there and trying to have a nice summer that way.”

What’s readily apparent is that No Gold is all about fun and friendship, not fame and fortune. Their name, in a way, says “we’re not in it for the money.” When I bring this up, they all laugh.

“Well, that’s for sure,” Jack immediately agrees.

“If we were,” Liam says, “we’d be doing a terrible job.”

“We are into gold though,” adds Haley.

Liam agrees:

“I think it would be cool if we went back to trading in gold, precious metals…stones. Also, I’ve been trying to get rid of two thirds of the stuff that I own. Us young people have way too much shit.” Clearly, No Gold are zenned out. It’s not a stretch to imagine them all getting up together in the morning to do yoga on the lawn. Haley notes that this has never happened, but Liam doesn’t think it’s a bad idea, except that, “Yoga costs money. Well, going to a class costs money. We just need someone in the band who’s a yoga teacher so they can lead us. Then we won’t have to pay for classes.” Jack nods approvingly: “We’ve been looking for another member.”

No Gold’s debut 7-inch is out now on Broadway to Boundary records. Their full-length will be out this summer on Unfamiliar Records.

RECIEVER GALLERY: FACES N’ SPACES

illustrationby ben tour

To many people, the term ‘art community’ is more likely to cause alienation than elicit any warm, fuzzy feelings. Just a hunch, but it might have something to do with the kinds of people that often come with the territory – the nexus of activity that encompasses making, exhibiting, selling, buying, and viewing art can breed a level of competitiveness that makes notions of community look like utopian fantasy. But thank god for San Francisco. Compared to its neighbour L.A. and its coastal opposite New York, San Francisco is a glimmer of hope for emerging artists who want to actually make friends instead of trample over their peers to the top of the heap. Receiver Gallery is a prime example of the potential for such a group mentality-and it’s not just because their group shows are so packed with familiar S.F. and Oakland faces.