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A volar entre rocas – Audio Description and Transcripts

Show Abstract

A volar entre rocas is an intimate processing of self, relation to place, and migration. Aspects of memory and home are raised alongside questions about land, place, and power. Mariana Muñoz Gomez brings their two homes on opposite ends of Turtle Island into relation with one another through an engagement with the natural and social histories surrounding Tyndall stone and volcanic rock as vessels of time, embodiments of movement, witnesses to history, and links between distant places. A volar entre rocas compares and contrasts experiences and knowledge surrounding the artist’s two homes by exploring feelings derived from diaspora, including considerations of memory, movement, reaching, and belonging.
Mariana developed this body of work through what they describe as a diasporic introspection: noticing when experiences in one home reminded them of another; spending time with photographs, videos, memories; and researching their homeland on the internet.

Acknowledgements

This exhibition is supported by the Manitoba Arts Council and the Canada Council for the Arts.

Artist Biography

Mariana Muñoz Gomez

Mariana Muñoz Gomez (they/them) is a Mexican artist, writer, and curator based in Winnipeg, Manitoba on Treaty 1 Territory. Their art practice is often lens-based, involving a variety of media including text, screen prints, video art, and photography. Their practice explores place, identity, and language, and how these topics intersect with coloniality, temporality, and relationality. Mariana has been involved with various Winnipeg collectives and they are currently a managing co-editor of Carnation Zine. They were longlisted for the New Generation Photography Award in 2023.

Visit Mariana’s website at www.marianamunoz.ca

Tactile Object (welcome station)

Note: a laminated PDF in gallery of this informaion is also available.

Tactile Objects:

2D Site Map

3D Dollhouse Gallery Map

Tactile Materials, provided by artist: 

  • Washi Prints: The printed images on wall at grunt gallery were printed onto Washi Paper using Chine Collé and adhered to the walls using rice paste. An example of the print is available to touch at the welcome station.
  • Vinyl Lettering: On the East and West walls (left and right of the entrance) are vinyl sentences applied at different heights throughout the show. The vinyl is almost the same colour as the rusty, clay orange coloured walls, disappearing and reappearing from view as you move and the light hits the plastic surface. A few of these vinyl letters are adhered to a plastic sheet at the front stage. A high contrast layout of the text is also available in the Exhibition binder.

Creative Access Audio Tour

Introduction

Welcome to grunt gallery’s creative access audio tour of A volar entre rocas, the exhibition project by artist, Mariana Muños Gomez. My name is Kay Slater. I am a white, hard-of-hearing, queer settler on these stolen and unceded Coast Salish lands. As the accessibility and exhibitions manager and preparator here at grunt, I assisted in installing this work. While I wrote and narrated this tour today, any pronunciation errors or cultural misrepresentations are on me. We welcome your feedback as we develop more creative access tools for our gallery and exhibitions.

This tour has four chapters in 9 parts. At the start of each chapter, you will hear this sound of a page turning:

[ Page turning ]

First is this intro. In Chapter One, I will detail entering the space and orienting yourself in the gallery. In Chapter Two, I’ll describe our welcome station and the objects available for you to use and touch. Chapter Three covers our facilities, washrooms, and C-Care stations. If you’re ready to tour the show, skip to Chapter Four, where I will read the wall didactic and walk you through the show. If you are skipping ahead, be aware that the welcome station has 2 tactile maps to help you navigate this tour. When I move to a new artwork, you will hear this sound of church bells:

[ Church bells ]

Each artwork description within Chapter Four is divided into its own audio part so you can skip or return to an artwork description as you move through the show at your own pace.

Let’s get started with Chapter One.

[ Page turning ]

Chapter One

When approaching grunt gallery at 350 East Second Avenue from the accessible drop-off on Great Northern Way, follow the sidewalk to the building’s main entrance. Turn left at the entrance, and you’ll find us at the first exterior door, unit 116. A low-grade ramp leads to our front double doors, with automatic door buttons at waist and ankle level on a post to the right. Be cautious of the small lip at the threshold, a potential tripping hazard. Excluding Thursdays, masks are now optional and only recommended indoors at grunt; if you forgot yours, we have extras near the entrance and will not enforce their use outside of Thursdays for low-sensory and voice-off visiting hours.

Welcome to grunt gallery! We are situated on the occupied, stolen, and ancestral territory of the Hulquminum (hull-kuh-mee-num) and Squamish (Squ-HO-o-meesh) speaking peoples, specifically the land of the Musqueam (Mus-kwee-um), Squamish, and Tsliel Waututh (SLAY-wha-tuth) peoples and families. We are grateful to be here.

The current show has many installations on the ground near the walls and a shelf installed on the back or sound wall. There are also 2 cube seats in the back left corner within a small alcove. While there is space to walk, be aware of the stones on the ground if you use the wall to travel. If you require assistance and are not greeted by staff upon entry, please call for help. Staff are in the office and will assist you as soon as possible. We are always happy to walk the show with you.

The public gallery space is a cube with 20-foot walls on two sides, 20 feet of panelled windows at the entrance, and a 12-foot south wall that opens 8 feet before reaching the ceiling, providing light to the loft office space beyond. The office is not visible from the gallery, except for a large convex mirror that allows staff to see visitors. A tone rings when people enter the space.

On low-sensory and voice-off Thursdays, a staff member will be available but will not greet you, allowing you to move at your own pace. If you are Blind, non-visual or partially sighted, call out for help anytime. If you are sighted, please silently approach a staff member. We have hard-of-hearing staff on site, so a visual wave may be required to get their attention.

[ Page Turning ]

Chapter Two

As you enter the gallery, immediately to the right on the west wall is a sanitization and welcome station. The station is white with black labels in English, high-contrast icons, and some braille labels. There are three open shelves, including the top surface, two pull-out shelves below, and two closed drawers with d-hook handles.

On top of the welcome station is our gallery spider plant, Comos, who is watered on Wednesdays. The top surface holds a leather-bound guestbook with a black pen, and a box of masks with tongs. A digital tablet allows you to browse the exhibition page on our grunt.ca website or access our Big Cartel eCommerce store.

On the first pull-out shelf, on the left, is the exhibition binder with large print information about the space, the show, the artist, a transcript of this tour, and the exhibition map. On the right are a series of tactile objects. Our tactile objects are creative access tools designed to create a point of entry for non-visual, Blind, or partially sighted guests who may wish to experience the work through touch or by bringing the objects close. However, tactile objects are also sensory objects that can be used by sighted folks who wish to feel a connection to the work and those who enjoy or are supported by having objects in their hands to touch. 

The first is a scrap piece of washi paper, which is installed throughout the show, directly onto the wall using rice paste  . We ask that visitors not touch the installed work on the wall as they are delicate, but the dry scrap here is quite sturdy.

The second tactile object functions as a low-vision asset, as we have vinyl text installed throughout the show, specifically designed to be obscured, as it’s colour is similar to the painted walls. A piece of plastic allows for the lettering to be more visible, for the shapes to be more easily recognized, and allows for tactile exploration. 

These tactile objects are provided as a sensory point of entry into the works and are not necessarily representative of the work or equivalent to experiencing the works through explorative touch. We do not present these objects assuming that you have never had access to rocks or washi paper, but we are also not assuming that you have had these experiences. Smell them, hold them, observe them. Use them however you’d like as you engage with the show.

On the second pull-out shelf, to the left, are laminated maps of the space. Also within these shelves are two tactile maps. A tactile dollhouse map of the gallery, and a flat 2D floorplan tactile map of the spaces past the gallery box. Use the dollhouse and 2D tactile maps to follow along with creative access tour while in gallery. Works are indicated by unique shapes glued to the ground of the 2D floorplan, and in 3D relative to the wall of the dollhouse map with braille markers A through I. In an experiment, the dollhouse has fold away walls that allows the works to be explored in relation to the height of the walls, but we welcome feedback on this new feature.

To the right of the maps are two Yoto audio players with large, friendly buttons. These players contain this tour and audio of any text within the binder. There is also a scannable, laminated QR code that links to this audio tour. On Thursdays, the Yoto players are moved to their carrying cases for use with headphones.

Below these are the two closed drawers. The first contains carrying cases with straps for headphones and the Yoto audio devices, allowing hands-free use.

The lowest drawer contains earmuffs for large and small bodies, specifically for those with noise sensitivities.

That concludes the description and tour of the welcome station. In the next chapter, I will tell you about our washrooms and care stations. If you’d prefer to continue with the exhibition tour, skip to Chapter Four.

[ Page turning ]

Chapter Three

If you need to use the washroom, it’s at the far end of our space. Exit the gallery through the doorway and continue following the west wall (to your right when you entered). Pass by the media lab, and when you reach the back wall, take a left and walk through the small kitchenette to our single-room, gender-neutral washroom.

If you’re using the 2D floorplan map, the washrooms are located at K.

An automated door button to the right holds the washroom door open for 14 seconds. Inside, to the left of the door, is the lock button which creates a visual indicator that the washroom is in use. To exit, you can open the door manually or hover your hand over a button above the sink, below the mirror and to the right.

Near the exit button is a vertical cubby stack of supplies. Please help yourself to items like hair ties, disposable floss, sanitary napkins, and condoms. 

Returning to the media lab, we have a tea station. If you need some energy, please help yourself to a drink.

If you’re using the 2D tactile map, the tea station is at location J.

We now arrive at Chapter Four, where I will begin the exhibition tour next to the welcome station, as if I had just entered the gallery and stepped right to grab a map.

[ Page turning ]

Chapter 4: Exhibition Tour

If you’re using the tactile maps, we are at location A on the dollhouse near the front of the gallery. The front of the gallery is marked by a wall of cutouts to represent the many windows.

On the wall behind and above the welcome station is text in white vinyl that reads:

A volar entre rocas

Mariana Muñoz Gomez

Curated by Vance Wright

September 18 to November 1, 2025

A volar entre rocas explores self, place, and migration, weaving together memory, land, and power through the materials of Tyndall stone and volcanic rock. Mariana Muñoz Gomez connects their two homes on opposite ends of Turtle Island, reflecting on diaspora, movement, and belonging. The work emerges from a process of diasporic introspection, drawing on memories, media, and research into their homeland.

Mariana developed this body of work through what they describe as a diasporic introspection: noticing when experiences in one home reminded them of another; spending time with photographs, videos, memories; and researching their homeland on the internet.

Within the exhibition binder at the welcome station is the full exhibition abstract, a curatorial essay, artist bio, transcripts, and descriptions of works in the show. This text is available on the Yoto audio player in gallery, or by scanning the QR code or tapping the NFC tag on the wall near the welcome station. Listen or read these at your leisure!

The walls are painted a brick red tone—the colour of west coast autumn leaves or wet clay. Unlike most shows at grunt where we use flat matte paint, these walls are painted with an eggshell enamel, which creates a slight gloss and a slippery feeling when touched. This colour creates high contrast with the white vinyl text installed directly on the walls.

The show comprises three works installed on the walls and on the floor near the baseboards.

Work One:  The eponymously named A volar entre rocas, 2021 contains seven washi prints rice-pasted onto the walls, six piles of Tyndall stone positioned on the floor near the prints, and text sentences scattered across the walls cut from ocre-red vinyl that nearly disappear atop the wall colour.

Work Two: mapping elsewhere, 2022 is an artist book displayed on a volcanic rock shelf. A full visual description has been narrated and is available on our YOTO players or online.

Work Three is a video work named Untitled, 2022 projected and looping in 20-minute intervals. On Wednesday, the audio described track is playing for low-vision and blind audiences, and on Thursday, the sound is off for silent and low-sensory visiting hours. Transcripts can be found in our binder and online.

All Tyndall stones on the floor are cane-detectable and fairly sturdy. If you bump into one and are concerned you’ve dislodged it, please call out for a gallery docent and they’ll reset it. The volcanic rock shelf on the south wall sticks out slightly—when you encounter the Tyndall stone pile in the middle of the back south wall, this indicates you’re approaching the shelf. I’ll remind you as we approach location E on the tactile map. 

The laminated and tactile maps, available at the welcome station, list the works in that order, but for the work, A volar entre rocas, 2021, since the prints are spread out around the room, we’ll jump around a little. 

As a reminder, when I physically move, you will hear this sound:

[ Church Bells ]

Part Two – Location B

If you’re using the dollhouse tactile map, we are moving from the welcome station (A) to location B, along the west wall.

Moving left from the welcome station are the first prints and stones within the work titled A volar entre rocas, 2021.

Before I describe the individual prints, text and stone sculptures, let me give you context about this work. Each of the seven washi prints is a digital collage of stone walls and foliage that Mariana documented at their grandparent’s house in Mexico. At first glance, they look natural—stone blended with stone, plants growing beside or out of fixtures. But the more you look, the more obviously doctored they become.

Mariana talks about examining the imperfection of memory but also about the need, especially as an exhibiting artist, to distance the intimacy of the work. While creating this work, they were acknowledging that one day they wouldn’t have access to their grandparent’s house, a house that their grandfather built. In fact, the house recently sold and is no longer in their family. 

Though the work is deeply personal, literally Mariana’s grandparent’s house, their family’s plants, it’s also what Mariana describes as “very much a diasporic artwork.” The composite nature of these images allows the work to resonate beyond one family’s story, speaking to broader experiences of movement between places, fragmented belonging, and the ongoing construction of identity in diaspora.

The Tyndall stone placed throughout the gallery connects to this theme. Tyndall stone is a limestone quarried in Manitoba, near Winnipeg where Mariana lives. The stone itself is fossiliferous—millions of years old, containing traces of ancient sea life, absorbing and recording history. Mariana brings their two homes on opposite ends of Turtle Island into relation through these materials: Tyndall stone from Winnipeg and volcanic rock from Mexico, both vessels of time, embodiments of movement, and witnesses to history.

The vinyl text on the walls is intentionally difficult to read—printed in ocre-red on the brick-red walls, the words nearly disappear. 

Mariana reflects: “I was hesitant [about] being too vulnerable. I had this text and I felt a bit awkward just like putting it right on the wall. So, I guess this was another [little way of creating emotional distance], but I do really like that the light can affect the legibility of the text. When you walk around the space, you might notice a text that you had no idea was there before.”

There is a high-contrast version available at the welcome station that shows all the text together, but as we move through the tour and I discover a text, I’ll read it.

At location B, the washi print shows a cracked piece of chalky white Tyndall stone that looks like a wedge of cake, blended into a darker stone wall made of small pebbles and larger stones held together with pale mortar. Each fleck and piece within the wall is quite visible. The lower half of the print features a thick, flat-leafed leathery and shiny looking plant.

Below the print, three lines of vinyl text read:

this limestone has been here for millennia,

like a stone I recall at my grandparents’ house,

absorbing and recording history

Below the text, on the floor, is a stacked pile of three Tyndall stones. The bottom stone is quite large, the middle is a flat rectangular slab, and on top is a semicircle piece. While most faces are flat and polished, the semicircle’s flat edge where it broke from a larger piece is textured and craggy. Throughout these stones you can see subtle discolourations.

Mariana says: “The gray mottling…is where creatures have burrowed through. So the rocks, even though they’re not alive and moving around, they hold so much life.”

[ Church Bells ]

Part Three – Location C

If you’re using the dollhouse tactile map, we are moving from the location (B) to location C, continuing along the west wall.

Here, we stand before the third-largest of the prints. Again, there is a stone wall, with those thick flat leaves in the upper left as if a tree branch hangs from above. But beyond them, a brick courtyard has been dropped into the composition, as if we’re peeking through a hole chipped in the wall. In the lower right corner is a soft-petaled hibiscus flower, the colour of rose candy with scalloped-edge leaves. “That’s one of my favourite plants in my grandparents’ garden,” Mariana reflected. “There are so many hibiscus trees in Mexico, but it’s not from Mexico, actually.”

Surrounding this work, the vinyl text reads:

entre las rocas

siento que estoy ahí

as an adult, I learn

that Winnipeg used to be

Red River, a largely Métis city

Below this print are two relatively equal-sized Tyndall stones. The bottom one has a diamond shape with a flat, polished top and rough edges. The second stone is laid on top but also leans against the wall, showing only its rough, weathered underbelly while the polished side faces the wall.

[ Church Bells ]

Part 4 Four – Location I

If you’re using the dollhouse tactile map, we are moving from the location (C) at the southwest corner and edge of the west wall, and moving diagonally back towards the entrance and to the northeast corner, location I, left of where you came in.

Instead of continuing along the south wall and moving clockwise around the gallery, I’m moving diagonally back toward the entrance. Facing the east wall, I face the largest print in the exhibition. Within the video footage showing in gallery, Mariana edits this very image. Unlike the previous 2 images, this one clearly reveals itself as a composite.

Most of the image is textured dark stone and white mortar. But in the upper left corner is a quarter-circle window. Brick is laid around the perimeter like seconds on a clock. Within that brick frame is a metal window grill with vertical bars. And within that, a window pane opens outward.

Here’s where it gets strange: where the window should reveal a space beyond, instead there’s only more stone wall—the same stone that fills the rest of the image. My eye knows this has been doctored. The illusion becomes harder to accept. However, where the window glass is fixed and closed, it actually reflects trees from a courtyard beyond. So other than where the window opens into impossible stone, it’s a convincing illusion; it’s just that the more you think about it, the more you realize it’s not quite right. Like memories. Like dreams.

In the lower right corner, the stone wall ends in creeping ground-cover ivy. There’s a whisper of brick courtyard floor. And growing from the edges of the wall are those flat-leafed plants, but these are particularly vibrant. They’re dark kale green with lemon-yellow spines and leaf veins, like tiger stripes. It’s very dynamic against the light and dark stone.

Surrounding this large piece is quite a bit of text, almost like a frame, though you really have to search for it line by line. Reading from bottom to top, left to right:

these stones saw the signing of Treaty 1,

a handful of generations ago

los monasterios

en las faldas

de Popocatépetl

were constructed

around the same time

as el Palacio de Cortés

To the left of this work on the ground is a single triangular Tyndall stone, polished edge facing forward. To the right are several smaller flat stones stacked on top of each other in two piles. The flat, top-most pieces look like chocolate bars broken into chunks, with a slightly larger, flat stone at the bottom of each stack. All have polished tops; only their sides are rough and unpolished.

I want to note something about these stone arrangements. Mariana ships a variety of stones for each exhibition and then trusts their instincts to place them relative to the new location, rather than having predefined sculptural intentions. At the end of the show, these stones will be available for community members to take – we’ll make an announcement online. For sighted visitors moving through the space, unless particularly interested in geological textures, these stones might not demand much attention, but when considered as an object that would move into your space, these details become more personal. If you’re considering taking one of these stones home at the end of the exhibition, the specific shapes and textures I’ve described may help you decide which stone calls to you. If you’re interested, let our team know.

[ Church Bells ]

Part Five – Location H

If you’re using the dollhouse tactile map, we are moving right from location (I) at the corner near the window to location H near a perpendicular short wall.

Moving right, I approach an artificial corner in the gallery. If you reach out toward the right, you’ll bump into a temporary wall that extends perpendicularly from the east wall. This six-foot-tall wall creates a small alcove in the southeast corner for the video projection.

Before encountering this temporary wall, there’s another pile of Tyndall stones on the ground—a heads-up that you’re approaching the wall corner.

At location H is another washi print. This one, until you look closely, seems the most convincing as a single snapshot—as if it hadn’t been doctored much. It appears to be a close-up of that thick, glossy, flat leaved plant growing from the ground.

But toward the right side, the foliage has obviously been added atop the background wall because it suddenly crops or cuts off in an artificial straight line, while the stone beyond continues. It’s obvious that the plant picture was taken separately. The two memories, the two layers, don’t quite line up. I really enjoy that imagery here.

Below this print, the final vinyl text on the east wall reads:

my grandfather laid them down

just a few years after

he came to the “new world”

Now I am going to pivot and face the temporary wall.

[ Church Bells ]

Part Six – Location G

If you’re using the dollhouse tactile map, we are moving from the location (H) to location (G) facing the perpendicular short wall.

In the upper right corner of this six-foot-high wall is a torso-sized washi print positioned right against the top and right edges. This one feels voyeuristic. The stone wall in the foreground is dark and shadowed, with flat-leafed plants coming up from the right and above, further obscuring the hole. Through this opening, you see a brick wall beyond, brightened as if the sun hits it directly.

There’s a bright white area—possibly a curtain, possibly a door flung open—where sunlight has bleached out the detail so you can’t quite make out the material. And then there’s something like a sign or picture with two holes as if it’s bolted to the wall, and on this panel appears to be an illustration of a house or building. It’s as if we’re peeking into a secret alcove beyond the wall.

On this temporary wall facing south, vinyl text reads:

when there was

space

between Tlaltenango and Cuernavaca

la ciudad creció y llegaron vecinos

On blending English and Spanish throughout the show, Mariana noted that language creates different layers of access to the work, similar to how visual familiarity with these materials varies. Reflecting on this, they said: “Even if I’m making this work with Spanish and English, thinking ‘people that have a history with both languages can engage with it in a certain way,’ it’s been interesting to realize what kind of significance this would have in Mexico—it would be totally different. So it’s very much a diasporic experience.”

Below in the wall’s lower left corner, opposite from where the print sits in the upper right, is a long rectangular Tyndall stone, polished on front, top, and back. It’s like a barrier in a parking space or the edge of a sidewalk—a flat, long rectangular prism. On top are three more stones. Unlike other piles where stones get progressively smaller, here there’s actually a large piece on top, it’s exposed, textured broken section faces up and around the sides, with the polished side facing down. On top of that craggy piece is one more small hand-sized wedge, polished side up.

[ Church Bells ]

Part Seven – Location D

If you’re using the dollhouse tactile map, we are moving from the location (G) to location (D) facing the south wall, left of the exit to the media lab.

From the edge of the temporary wall, I am sidling two steps right, and then walking forward 3 steps to arrive at location D facing the next print. You could also step all the wall to the east wall and then follow it to the opening to the media lab and then turn 90 degrees. Either path is clear to walk.

This is the second-largest print in the show, installed so it bumps against both the baseboard and the Media Lab entrance to the right. Nine-tenths of this image is that familiar textured stone wall with dark stones and pale mortar. Toward the bottom, the image blurs slightly and gives the sense that the wall extends down into a rock courtyard where ground ivy grows between stones.

Mariana reflects on visiting the quarry in Winnipeg: “There were a bunch of little plants growing in between cracks from the Tyndall stone. It was a reminder that plants will find a way. [Even in rock], there are minerals. So they are also feeding other organisms around them in some way, even if it might take a long time for them to break down to that point.”

In the foreground of the lower left corner of the washi print, are isolated laundry lines with plastic clothespins. One line moves from a corner up toward the center before fading into blur. A second clothesline moves from the lower corner to the right, where the plastic pins clip bright-coloured fabric. Because this work is a composite, a cobbled-together memory rather than a single location, my brain accepts that the laundry line doesn’t quite go anywhere. It exists in a dreamlike space where things don’t have to make complete sense.

On the ground in the lower left corner are three more Tyndall stones arranged in a triangular formation. The furthest back leans against the baseboard with its polished top facing the gallery. The other two stones spread out from the wall with polished tops facing up. Around their edges you can feel the raw texture where they’ve been broken from larger pieces. The largest stone, closest to visitors, has a triangular or heart shape. The smallest is circular.

[ Church Bells ]

Part Eight – Location E

If you’re using the dollhouse tactile map, we are moving from the location (D) to location (E) facing the south wall and moving left.

Stepping back slightly from the large washi print, I move left a few steps and face the work mapping elsewhere, 2022, an artist book displayed on a volcanic rock shelf.

This volcanic rock shelf was commissioned by Mariana. Unlike Tyndall stone which is mined in Winnipeg, this volcanic rock came from Mexico. The shelf has been worked and polished so that despite the porous, pockmarked appearance of volcanic stone, the surface feels surprisingly smooth almost soft to the touch. The shelf is a uniform gray with occasional white flecks. Unlike most shelves which are flat on top, this one has a small lip on its upper edge, which allows the book to lean against the wall with its bottom edge caught rather than sliding forward. 

On the top left of the shelf is a small triangular Tyndall stone, cut as a prism with the polished side facing outward and the three other sides showing the rough, craggy texture from where it was broken from a larger body. To the right are small palm-sized pieces of unpolished volcanic rock with a slight red dusting similar to the wall color. Please handle these volcanic pieces very gently if at all.

The book itself, mapping elsewhere by Mariana Muñoz Gomez, has a glossy soft cover and is an edition of 45. The illustrations were all hand-drawn, and within the 45 editions, Mariana coloured each one slightly differently. 

Mariana reflects: “I wanted to individually hand colour the book, so they’re a little different every time. And to me, that just kind of connected to remembering a place, and you might remember it a bit differently every time, or different things that come to mind might illuminate different parts of it.”

A complete audio description of the gallery edition is available as a separate chapter on the Yoto player and in the binder.

For this tour, here’s a summary: mapping elsewhere is a personal meditation on place, migration, and identity. Through drawings of stone walls, gates, fossils, and landscapes, Mariana reflects on growing up between Winnipeg and Mexico.

The narrative follows a walk through Winnipeg where Mariana notices empty lots and posted signs, observations that become entry points for researching the Indigenous histories of both places they call home—learning about Treaty 1 and the peoples of these lands.

A central thread runs through the book about stones as records of history. Mariana writes about colonial buildings constructed over Indigenous structures—palaces built over palaces, cathedrals over temples—stones that have witnessed colonization, dispossession, and resistance across both territories.

The book concludes with a reflection on living between places: “Although my consciousness lives on one island, I fly between the nodes of what I’ve come to know as Canada and Mexico all my life.”

Before moving away from the shelf, I spot the final washi print from A volar entre rocas, this image a little different than the other six installed around the room. This one, Mariana called their Sky Print while we were installing. This print is unique from the others both in content and in how it is tucked away, and installed at 8 feet, high above. If you stand in the center of the gallery and look over the six-foot temporary wall, this print just peeks out above it.

This print features a sunset without sun: soft baby-blanket blue with wispy lines of horizontal flat clouds in dark sleepy blues, contrasts against soft fading pink where the sun sets in the distance. It has a very peaceful, sleepy quality to it.

[ Church Bells ]

Part Nine – Location F

If you’re using the dollhouse tactile map, we are moving from the shelf at location (E) to location (F) within the small alcove.

As I move left from the volcanic rock shelf, I step cautiously until I bump into small wooden cube seats positioned for watching the video. These are cane-detectable and quite lightweight, so don’t worry if you bump them, just shift them aside. The point of this alcove created by the temporary wall is to provide a small darkened space for viewing the projected video. You don’t need to walk all the way to location F, as you’d be standing against the projection surface itself and on the ground is a small bluetooth speaker playing the audio. A white rectangle has been painted on the brick-red wall to serve as the projection surface. The projector is installed high on the opposite west wall, crossing the gallery to project here. On the 2D floorplan, there is a small piece of plastic that shows the path of the projected video.

This video has a complete transcript with integrated visual description available as a separate chapter on the Yoto player and in the exhibition binder. On Wednesdays during blind-led tours by Jinny Saran, an audio-described track will play in the gallery. On Thursdays during low-sensory and silent visiting hours, the audio is turned off completely, though the video contains open captions in both English and Spanish.

The video moves between documentary footage filmed in Mexico and Mariana’s photo editing workspace. We see glimpses of urban and rural Mexico—pools, streets, views from moving vehicles—with a focus on walls, gates, and fences. Spanish narration and bilingual on-screen text accompany the footage as Mariana reflects on researching their homeland from a distance.

Near the end, Mariana edit the stone wall images in real time—blending, erasing, creating the seamless composites we’ve seen throughout the gallery.

[ Church Bells ]

With that, we conclude the described tour of A volar entre rocas. Thank you so much for joining us on this creative access audio tour! We’d love to hear your thoughts on this experience and how we can improve it. If you carried any tactile object(s) during the tour, please return it to the welcome station! We acknowledge that we cannot be everything to everyone, and respect that our creative access explorations may not serve your needs. You can reach us at access@grunt.ca or chat with any of the staff on site with any feedback you have the capacity to provide.

Thank you again.

Curatorial Essay

by Vance Wright

Mariana Muñoz Gomez was born in Pachuca, Hidalgo, Mexico, and moved with their family to Winnipeg, Manitoba, Canada in their youth. Their exhibition, A volar entre rocas, spans lens-based work, text and stones and is a mindful rumination on issues of power, place, geography and the diaspora. Photograph prints on washi paper are placed along the ochre walls of the gallery, with Tyndall stones placed on the ground along the walls. Mariana’s writing has been placed on the walls alongside the photographs in a glossy ochre vinyl, which matches the hue of the wall. Behind the six-foot false wall, is a projected single-channel short film with sound and captions. 

Mariana’s photographs on the wall depict the volcanic rock walls of their maternal grandmother’s home in Morelos, Mexico. The use of volcanic rock in architecture is a long tradition of Pjeikakjoo people using the stone to build their houses, palaces and places of worship. This rock was used long before contact with Spanish Settlers, and also after, as the conquistadors made use of it to build their own churches and palaces on top of the pre-existing Indigenous-made buildings. The use of volcanic rock is still quite popular, with contemporary architects building it into new designs, defining public and domestic spaces. In terms of geologic time, volcanic rock is formed relatively quickly—magma emerging from beneath the earth, and exposed to air starts to rapidly cool. As this rock erodes, it aids plant life by depositing magnesium and potassium, creating mineral and nutrient rich soil.  Over time, as volcanic rock breaks down, its particles are picked up by the current and, if deposited in sedimentary basins, it becomes important components of sedimentary rocks.

Tyndall stones are placed on the floor of the gallery in relation to the photographs. These rocks originate from the Red River Formation in Treaty One territory, just outside of Winnipeg. This formation has been turned into the Tyndall quarry by European settlers, and was popular for constructing official buildings of the colonial power, such as the Manitoba Legislative Building. The stone is a dolomitic limestone, meaning it is rich in carbon, and was formed by geologic and other organic detritus being deposited by water, compressed by following layers of detritus, and continued to accumulate over and over for millennia. Bodies of flora and fauna were frequently laid to rest in these sedimentary layers; each of their molecules slowly replaced by carbon through the eras, creating fossils. This bedrock was left in place for millennia, and in a relatively short couple hundred of years after contact, was quarried and reorganized. This bedrock has witnessed time immemorial, stewardship of the Anishinaabe and the Nehiyaw Cree Nations, the birth of the Métis Nation, the Red River Rebellion, the signing of the Treaties, and the creation of the province of Manitoba—and this is only speaking to the human history it has been a part of. 

In placing the photographs and the rocks in relation to one another, time and space are collapsed within the confines of the gallery—two sites situated across from one another on Turtle Island sit visiting, entangled. They tell stories of how they were formed, what they were put to use for, and how they arrived here. 

The extended programming for this exhibition consists of a workshop at the Aboriginal Gathering Place, in which Mariana Muñoz Gomez will engage with those living here to think through our presence on these unceded territories of the Musqueam, Squamish and Tsleil-Waututh Nations as guests and visitors. Additionally, Mariana will engage the Latin American diaspora living here through a meet up at grunt gallery, addressing the complexities of identity and place specific to that diaspora in their promotional text for the event. These two pieces of public programming stood out to me as a curator, as they extend the contemplations of the exhibition from the gallery space into community, drawing the artist into actual relation to the people living here, in what feels like a genuine interest in learning about this place. 

As an Dakelh-ne Curator living on the territories of the Musqueam, Squamish and Tsleil-Waututh Nations, this work reminds me of the sticky issue of “home” on land that you do not belong to, of trying to learn the histories of these territories, while also carrying the memories of where you came from. By curating this work for grunt gallery, I began questioning how well I knew the Land here, trying to recall as many Hən̓q̓əmin̓əm̓ and Halkomelem names I knew, like Xwáýxway, Seńákw (Snauq), or Lhukw’lhukw’áteyn. I also contemplated The Shadow, a public work in the Helen and Morris Belkin Public Art Collection, in which the shadow of a giant cedar tree is embedded in the bricks of UBC’s plaza, monumentalizing the cedar giants that once stood tall in the area.This exhibition invited me to re-examine the history of colonization across Turtle Island; to think about how different the Conquistador’s tactic of incorporating pre-existing structures in order to assimilate the Indigenous peoples differs from the tactics used by the English Settlers, of Reservations, Scrip, and registration under the Indian Act. Mariana’s work also made me focus on what feels like home, that there are many parts of the MST territories that remind me of the S’ini’xt territories where I was raised, that makes me feel held and safe. I’m reminded that my spirit flies between two places too, and that much like ochre vinyl words placed carefully on the gallery wall, some things can only become clear when you move.

Many thanks to Audrey Siegl for providing Mariana with consultation on the Processing Place workshop, the Aboriginal Gathering Place at Emily Carr University for supporting the extended programming of this show, to my fellow grunt workers in helping with every aspect of this show, to grunt’s audiences for coming to visit with the exhibition, and to Mariana. Thank you to Justin Ducharme and Richard Yeomans for quelling my anxieties around curating my first exhibition outside of a University, and to Whess Harman for continually and mindfully mentoring me. 

Ts’iyawh snachailya.

-Vance

Untitled (A volar entre rocas), video

Video Visual Summary and Transcript

Video by:  Mariana Muñoz Gomez
Spanish Captions, and English subtitles by: Mariana Muñoz Gomez
Exhibition in Vancouver, September 2025, produced by: grunt gallery
Transcript by Kira Saragih and Kay Slater, July 2025
Open captions are displayed in the exhibition video.

An audio described track is available through the Yoto Audio players available at the welcome station. 

Visual Summary:  

A video of short scenes featuring life in Mexico.Throughout the film, there is a focus on the built environment, especially gates, fences and walls, and the varied materials used in their construction.

It begins with digital imagery inside a photo editing program, showing cropped images of plants. The footage shifts between the digital workspace and documentary-style clips filmed in urban and rural environments.

Scenes include a quiet pool with fish and turtles, a hilltop lookout in a rural town, and foliage in a park, juxtaposed against city footage from atop a moving bus or through a car window while driving. A brief scene shows a street protest with flags waving and shouts echoing beneath historical narration, within the otherwise quiet observational flow of the film. 

The video concludes back within the editing software, with a series of written reflections by the artist in both English and Spanish.

Note: The video contains audio in Spanish. Transcript is written in English for the exhibition, A volar entre rocas, hosted at grunt gallery. Any Spanish text will be identified, but not translated nor included in Spanish for the sake of English screen readers. Visual description has been integrated into the transcript.

Transcript:

Visual Description (ID): An extreme close-up of green leaves fills the screen. It is revealed to be a screen capture inside a photo editing program. A marquee selection outlines several leaves, its animated dotted line moving like a trail of ants. On a Mac desktop, application icons appear. The user tabs through: Safari’s compass icon, then QuickTime Player’s “Q” icon. QuickTime is selected. A dropdown menu opens, then closes. The screen recording overlay appears, with a marquee border surrounding the entire screen. The cursor clicks the stop button, ending the recording.  Now outdoors, gem-green water is filmed via a handheld camera. A sunlit fish darts away and exits. Nearby, small turtles swim slowly. Beneath the rippling surface, schools of fish move in tight formation. In the foreground, grasses at the water’s edge sway in the breeze, showing that the camera is positioned on shore.

00:00:43

[voces bajas e indiscernibles al fondo durante el clip] [indiscernible, soft voices in the background throughout]

ID: The camera shifts unsteadily as it’s moved by hand, then focuses on a larger turtle with a smaller turtle perched on its back. They rest on a submerged step near the shoreline. Deep cabbage red and kale green coloured leaves fan out like ribbons from plants growing at the water’s edge. Winged insects circle above. The smaller turtle’s head snaps side to side in quick, springy motions. Another turtle enters the frame from deeper water, and the smaller turtle turns sharply to watch it approach.

00:01:05

[un niño grita y se escucha que corre] [a child yells and can be heard running]

00:01:11

[voces bajas e imperceptibles al fondo] [indiscernible, soft voices in the background]

ID: The approaching turtle pivots and swims back toward the open, green-tinted water.

00:01:23

[sonido de algo raspando el suelo; voces bajas al fondo] [sound of something scraping on the floor; 

soft voices in the background]

ID: The sunny day creates a bright reflection on the water’s surface, with clouds and surrounding trees mirrored clearly in the water below. 7s

00:01:38

[indiscernible] “Do you see that little one? Do you see that little one?” 

[indiscernible] “¿Ves la pequeña? ¿Ves la pequeña?”

00:01:42

“Yeah”

“Sí”

[indiscernible, conversación baja] [indiscernible, soft conversation]

00:01:50

[sonido de algo raspando el suelo, alguien tose] [sound of something scraping on the floor, someone coughs]

ID: A large fish, the length of the resting turtle, swims just below the surface. Sunlight glints off its back as it passes out of frame.

00:02:22

[voces bajas e indiscernibles, gorgoreo de pájaros] [indiscernible, soft voices; birds chirping]

ID: A small turtle surfaces and swims toward the lounging turtles on the submerged step. As it approaches, its body is obscured by a bright glare on the water, disappearing into the sunlit reflection.

00:02:44

[alguien habla] [person speaking]

ID: The large fish reappears, swimming back into view.


ID: Cut to an aerial view of a town, seen from a green hillside.

00:02:51

“Ahí se ve Cholula…”

[voces al fondo] [voices in the background]

ID: The video captures a full panoramic view from a square, hilltop lookout. As the camera turns, the videographer’s thumb briefly covers part of the frame, and the hands and arms of other visitors come into view. The camera shifts from horizontal to vertical orientation as it completes the turn, capturing both the environment and the surrounding people.

The space is a paved patio made of clean, square stone. A low, waist-high ledge made of warm painted stone surrounds the area, creating a safe and visible boundary. Several visitors are seated or standing along the ledge, gazing out at the view or taking a rest. Most wear casual travel clothing, such as cotton shirts, jeans, and leggings, in pastel or neutral tones. The sky is overcast, but the brightness behind the clouds suggests full daylight beyond.

At the centre of the square stands a painted building. The visible side features alternating bands of mango and wine tones, interrupted by tall, vertical windows. Each window is edged with white painted trim, flat against the surface with no sill. A rusted iron grid is built into the wall, fully covering each window. Between the windows, wide, triangular stone columns jut outward and upward, forming a repeating structural feature that extends to the roofline. The first storey of the building is visible with a white metal railing tracing the top edge.

In the distance, the camera captures a sweeping view of a small city or large town. The buildings below are mostly low-rise, no more than three stories tall. A compact cluster of office towers marks the downtown area farther out. The surrounding landscape is dense with green trees and framed by rolling hills or soft, rounded mountains. The terrain feels rural, gentle, and expansive.


ID: From the top of a moving bus, now in the city. 

00:03:17

[el motor del camion se acelera ruidosamente] [engine of the bus revs loudly]

00:03:20

“A la derecha está el Palacio Nacional.”

ID: Cut to black.


ID: In front of a large, flat-leaved plant, another tree stretches upward. Behind them, tall bamboo stalks frame a grassy area.

00:03:27

[se eschucha un pájaro, chirriando] [bird chirping, squeaking]

ID: Through a car window, a row of parked cars line a street beside a stone wall covered in ivy. Sunlight reflects sharply off the car’s exterior.

00:03:39

[alarma de coche sona en la distancia] [car alarm going off in the distance]

00:03:53

[sonidos del coche en una calle llena de baches]

ID: The car turns a corner, still following the stone wall. The parked cars are gone. The continuous wall is interrupted at intervals by gated openings, revealing glimpses of yards or courtyards. As the car continues, the wall changes—some sections are painted with textured stone, others with red brick, and some plain white walls are covered in graffiti.

The car slows as it climbs a small hill, then turns left onto a new street. Here, the gates and buildings press directly against the sidewalk. The facades form an uninterrupted row, with no visible breaks between properties. Each is differentiated only by the colour or material of its gate or exterior—stone, metal, or painted surface. As the car speeds up, the building facades blur past the window.

00:04:00

[sounds of the car bumping along]

00:04:29

[sonidos del coche en una calle llena de baches, 

y el sonido suave del motor del coche] 

[bumps and soft sound of the car engine]

00:04:44

[chirridos de frenos] [car brakes squeaking]

00:05:17

“Siento que estoy ahí…”

ID: Various trees line the sidewalk–some with well-trimmed square crowns, others with crooked trunks, all casting shade onto the street. The car slows down to turn right, passing a few cars stopped at the intersection.

00:05:28

[chirridos de frenos] [car brakes squeaking]

00:05:37

“Quizás será un lunes,

alomejor martes,

jueves, domingo, miércoles…

y no recuerdo a dónde vamos ahora

pero, probablemente a la casa de mi tía…”

ID: The rows of properties disappear into a landscape of diverse green shrubberies, bordered by a row of metal fencing. The car turns left, following the bend of the road. Rows of short green bushes border the opposing lane, planted on a raised curb with the edges painted mustard-yellow.

00:06:05

[tarareo del coche en la carretera] [humming noise of the car on the road]

ID: Lush hedges border the sidewalk, backed by tall, overgrown trees that cast dense shadows. The row of trees gives way to bright, cloudy sky. A row of concrete walls replaces the green hedge. On them are various advertisements for different products. Caught between the walls and a neighbouring property is a glimpse of a lush, green field. The car slows down in front of a gas station as it comes to an intersection.

00:06:38

[chirridos de frenos] [car brakes squeaking]

ID: The car passes through the intersection into an area with uninterrupted rows of properties, including storefronts and garages with varying facades that echo previous areas the car passed by.

00:07:00

[alarma de un coche] [car alarm]

“Un día, aprendí que Cuauhnāhuac 

es el antiguo nombre de Cuernavaca, en Náhuatl.”

00:07:10

[suenan los coches pasando rápido] [sound of cars zooming by]

00:07:32

[alarma de coche sona en la distancia] [car alarm going off in the distance]

ID: The car slows as it goes over a speed bump, marked by yellow painted stripes on the road. It speeds up as it climbs a small hill where the road is marked by a few potholes and cracks in the pavement. The car slows down to go over a second speed bump in front of a storefront where parked cars sit next to neon orange road barriers. In front of neighbouring properties are more parked cars.

00:08:04

Aprendí que el escudo de la ciudad es un árbol

con…como que, aire que sale de su boca.

ID: The car comes to a stop in front of a white building with blue-tinted glass windows. It remains at a stop for a while.

00:08:19

[alguien tose] [someone coughs]

ID: Through the window, manicured trees with rectangular crowns decorate the facade of stuccoed building, casting a cooling shade on the sun-baked road. The leaves on the trees sway gently, shimmering as they reflect the bright sunlight.

00:08:30

[ronroneo del motor del coche] [low hum of car engine]

00:08:43

[alarma de coche sona en la distancia] [car alarm going off in the distance]

00:08:55

[el coche acelera] [car revs]

ID: The car starts to move, passing an intersection where cars are stopped, waiting at a light. Right after the intersection is an area filled with lush greenery. Tall trees tower over wild, overgrown shrubberies that peek over chain-metal fencing. The tree canopy opens to a glaring sun ray that casts a bright glow on the sky and the pavement. The greenery ends at a plain, brick-red building, marking the start of another row of properties.

00:09:30

[claxon] [honk]

ID: The car slows down as it goes over a series of consecutive speed bumps.

00:09:34

[golpes de construcción rítmicos] [rhythmic thumping of construction]

ID: Cars in the opposing lane also slow down due to the speed bumps.

00:09:44

[los golpes se aceleran] [thumping speeds up]

00:09:49

[golpe fuerte, luego se desvance y continúa en la distancia] [loud thump, then fades and continues in distance]

ID: The car speeds up again. The clip ends abruptly.


ID: Now filmed from the top of a tour bus. Protest unfolds on the street. Flags wave in the air as people fill the road below.

00:09:54

“— estación.” [gritos de una demonstración] [shouts from a protest]

“el castillo de Chapultepec, (indiscernible) así

con la prolongación de la Calle de Plateros; hoy, Madero.

A partir de la estatua de Carlos IV,

la avenida fue ampliada con el presidente Don Miguel Lerdo de

[charla en el camion] [chatter on the bus]

Don Miguel Lerdo de Tejada, (indiscernible) 

con camellonesa derecha e izquierda de 

bancas y de árboles y tiene una glorieta

justo colocada en el Monumento a Colón.

Durante el gobierno de Porfirio Díaz

se puso en otra glorieta

la estatua de Cuauhtémoc.

Se abrió el café —”

ID:  The screen turns black and remains blank while Spanish captions in a white, serif font appear at the bottom.

“¡Como! ¡Como no sabía…!”


ID: Now inside, a table and chairs are in deep shadow next to a sweet-pink flowered plant before a round glassless window overlooking a street. Peeking past the window’s metal grills, decorated with vertical bars and curving filigree that form a pair of hearts, a small stall with a faded, bitter-orange tarp roof stands in front of a stone-brick wall. Passersby walk leisurely on the street, chatting joyfully with their groups. A black car slowly makes its way down the road, interrupting the flow of pedestrians who quickly follow behind, coming from either direction.

00:10:36

[música fuerte, ¿tal vez una bossa nova lenta?] [loud music, maybe a slow bossa nova?] [la música continúa durante el clip] [music continues throughout] [sigue la música; redoble de platillos] [music continues; cymbal roll]

ID: Outside. From the ground, gazing up at towering trees with branches that outstretch into the sky and sunlight filtering through the leafy canopy.

00:11:34

[gorgoreo de pájaros, muy bajo] [very quiet bird sounds]

00:11:40

…¡y todas las veces que he ido a Tepoztlán!


ID: Back atop the bus, stopped beside an intersection in the city. Cars and buses pass by while a traffic patrol officer calmly monitors the area. A row of graffiti-covered concrete walls borders the edge of the sidewalk. Beyond the walls, in the distance, multi-story buildings rise over wild, overgrown bushes and trees.

00:11:46

[indiscernible, charla en el camion] [indiscernible, chatter on the bus]

00:12:13

“esa esta junta de Bellas Artes”

ID: The bus starts moving. The city street is full of people walking and biking on and around the sidewalk. The clip ends abruptly, cutting to a black screen.


ID: The bus moves through the buildings and trees. The bus stops in front of a pale blue building with metal lettering spelling “HOSPITAL”. A tall bronze statue stands in front, one hand on its opposing wrist, as if taking its own pulse. 

00:12:17

[chirridos de los frenos] [brakes squeaking]

00:12:22

“—estatua del famoso actor

y cómico mexicano Mario Moreno,

mejor conocido como Cantinflas,

a quien el público adoraba.

Enormemente popular en el mundo de habla hispana,

en sus películas

encarnará a un personaje malhablado,

pero entrañable, humilde, tierno, y (indiscernible),

que sumía (?) todas las desgracias

que el destino le deparaba

para salir siempre victorioso al final.”

ID: The bus moves on, passing a mix of modern and historical buildings that feature ornate facades. The neighbourhood features storefront shops as well as residential buildings with trees lining the sidewalk.

00:12:52

[el motor acelera] [engine revs]

“La antigua Avenida Jalisco

adoptó su actual nombre en 1929

a raíz del asesinato de Álvaro Obregón,

ex-presidente de la República Mexicana,

quien habitaba en el número 185.

El trazo de la calle de 45 metros de ancho

permitió la colocación de amplias

aceras laterales y un gran paseo arbolado

dotado de bancas y alumbrado

muy al estilo parisino.

En 1976 se colocaron a lo largo de la avenida

12 fuentes de cantera adornadas con

reproducciones de esculturas en bronce,

las cuales conforman el corredor

de las esculturas de artista del siglo XIX

de la Academia de San Carlos.”

00:13:39

[chirridos de frenos, charla] [brakes squeaking, chatter]

ID: The screen turns black.


ID: 

Through the window of a fast-moving car, wild greenery on the side of the highway blurs past. Cars in the opposing lane appear for only a split second.

00:13:51

[se escucha el aire recortando contra el micrófono] [air clipping against the microphone]

ID: The screen cuts to black.


ID: Inside a photo editing program, free-form cropped images of stone walls are layered on top of each other, with a prominent green-leafed plant in the bottom right corner. The stone walls have varying densities and ratios of rocks within them, some dark volcanic ash grey and others soft granite. The screen zooms in and out as a white circular cursor appears and begins to erase parts of the images, blending the harsh lines seamlessly into each other.

The artist reflects in white captions silently written on screen:

00:15:07

[Text: ] Google Maps tells me that the Tepozteco is a small pyramid at the top of that hike I never finished!

ID: The screen zooms in further. The circular cursor sweeps over the image using a photo editing tool that copies nearby stone textures to blend and brighten the area, particularly along the pale mortar between stones. As the cursor moves across a gap, part of the overlapping image disappears, briefly revealing the white-and-grey checkerboard background used in editing programs to show transparency. The background is quickly covered by another pass of the cursor. The cursor continues its detailed edits as captions appear on screen. They read:

00:15:20

[Text: ] El internet tells me that el Tepozteco was named after Tepoztécatl, god of pulque and fertility.

ID: The screen zooms in even further, scrolling up and down while the cursor moves around to touch up certain areas. Captions read:

00:16:11

[Text: ] Pues, ahí me distraigo por un rato…

ID: The screen zooms out, displaying a bigger picture that reveals a partial image of an arched window, framed by red bricks surrounded by a stone wall. The image has been cropped and edited to blend into the surrounding stone wall images. Parts of the background transparent canvas is exposed. Captions continue combining English and Spanish in the same lines of text.

00:16:19

[Text: ] …en las fotos de otros, veo ese estilo de pared 

en la ciudad rodeando la pirámide…

…veo gente sentándose, dangling their legs off the pyramid…

…veo rocas volcánicas…

…I see carved stones…

…a beautiful sunset on the hills…groups of people 

taking photos…restaurants…

…a group of hikers approaching some animals—marsupials? …

…veo posters informativos de la Secretaría de Cultura…

didactics written in Spanish and English.

ID: Zooming in gets up close to a section where two stone wall images border each other. The program’s layers panel opens on the right, a mouse cursor selects a different layer in the list, and the panel closes. The cursor blends the borders seamlessly. Various areas of the stone walls zoom in and out as the cursor continues blending sections of the image. To allow for more seamless stitching of the dark stone of one image with the light stone of another, the cursor uses a blurry, fuzzy technique with organic strokes so that the seams appear like the natural striations and dimensions of stone. Captions on screen continue.

00:19:01

[Text: ] These rocks have been here for hundreds, if not thousands, of years, absorbing and recording history.

ID: The edits continue. 

The screen zooms in so close that the images are blurred, the resolution not sufficient at this zoom. It shifts back so that the sharp lines still apparent between the layered photos is visible, and the edits continue. The top of the flat leaved plant peeks up from the bottom of the screen.

Focused on the green leafed plant, attention is given to edges between the leaves where the photos overlap. They are filled and blurred together.

The screen zooms in again allowing for micro edits where the overlap of the images are less apparent at regular magnification. A different brush tool is swapped in with a softer edge to create a feathery blur for the sharper edges.

The image zooms out fully, revealing the entire composition. In areas where the overlapping photos of differently sized and coloured stones have been edited, the surface begins to resemble a continuous rock face. Elsewhere, unfinished sections expose the white-and-grey checkerboard background of the editing program. The screen slowly fades to black. 

Credits: 

“Mariana Muñoz Gomez 2021/22”. 

Audio editing and mixing – J. Riley Hill,

Funded by:

Mentoring Artists for Women’s Art, 

Queer and Trans People of Colour Winnipeg, 

University of Manitoba Institute for the Humanities, Winnipeg Arts Council, and 

Manitoba Arts Council 

The screen goes black.

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Falsework – Audio Description and Transcripts

Artist Statement 

Falsework, curated by Mitch Kenworthy, is a collaboration between artists Simon Grefiel and kiyoshi. Guided by an ethos of care, support, and reciprocity, these artists make work that privileges the act and process of making. Evidenced throughout their interdisciplinary practices are materials and techniques readily gleaned from the various trades and construction work they do to earn a living. For Simon and kiyoshi, artwork and the work around it are not discrete activities.

In this exhibition, kiyoshi shows a scaffold-like platform built out of two-by-fours and plywood that he has sawed, burned, and belt sanded into a wrought index of both time and labour. A utilitarian structure, it serves as a means to install artwork and a stage for a performance. A plywood wall, also built by kiyoshi, frames and supports a three channel video by Simon. Composed of footage shot while working on a predominantly Filipino crew doing maintenance and fabrication on yachts in North Vancouver, Simon documents the tedium, camaraderie, pleasure, and beauty of working, while reflecting on histories and dynamics of Filipino marine labour.

In grunt gallery’s media lab, the artists present an ode to the job-site break room. Provisional furniture, a TV, a casual display of artworks and texts by friends, family, co-workers, and collaborators creates a setting for rest and respite. Facilitating hangouts and conversations, this space emphasizes the relationships and community in which Simon and kiyoshi’s practices are invariably situated and sustained.

Acknowledgements

kiyoshi dedicates his work in this exhibition to Mikiko and Gordon

Special thanks to Kevin Romaniuk, Christian Vistan, Brian and Maxine Kenworthy, Mariko Whitley, Marika Vandekraats, Mona Lisa Ali, Aubin Soonhwan Kwon, Keenan Christiansen, Sof Pickstone, Morgan Holt, David Bourne and especially everyone at grunt gallery for the care and support with which you have held this exhibition.

Artist Biographies

Simon Grefiel

Simon Grefiel is an artist whose work engages with ancient and colonial histories and practices from Southeast Asia and around the Pacific. Working with sculpture, found objects, drawings, and plant life, his explorations of language, dreams, spirits, familial stories and speculative narratives propose new ways of experiencing the supernatural realm and material universe. Grefiel is a Waray-Waray speaker born and raised in Tacloban City, Philippines and currently lives on the unceded traditional territories of the xwməθkwəy̓əm (Musqueam), Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), and səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) Nations. His work has been exhibited and screened at the Vancouver Art Gallery, Ground Floor Art Centre, and Libby Leshgold Gallery in Vancouver, and Gallery TPW in Toronto, ON.

Visit Grefiel’s Instagram page here:
instagram.com/sa4iiii/

kiyoshi

kiyoshi is an artist living and working on the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh territories, colonially known as Vancouver, British Columbia. His practice encompasses architecture, performance, woodworking, and writing. Community is central to his way of working and being, something he attributes to having spent his formative years growing up in cooperative housing.

Visit kiyoshi’s Instagram page here:
instagram.com/k._yo_sh.__ijiji/

Mitch Kenworthy

Mitch Kenworthy maintains a painting practice that is vested in the daily rhythms and processes of studio work, engaging in writing and more recently, curation as adjacent modes of inquiry into doing, making, and working. He has shared texts, shown paintings, and contributed in an organizational capacity to various artist-led projects and initiatives in and around so-called Vancouver, where he resides as an uninvited guest on the unceded and stolen lands of the Musqueam, Squamish, and Tsleil-Waututh.

Visit kiyoshi’s Instagram page here:
instagram.com/k._yo_sh.__ijiji/

Tactile Object (welcome station)

Note: a laminated PDF in gallery of this transcript is also available.

Tactile Objects:

2D Site Map

3D Dollhouse Gallery Map

Tactile Patterns: 

The following patterns are available as tactile objects within the welcome station:

  • Logo: A logo in the style of an industrial brand which features the names of Mitch within a horizontal oval and Sai & Kiyoshi within a horizontal bar and the show’s title Falsework, created by artist Simon Grefiel

Creative Access Audio Tour

[ Kay: ] Welcome to grunt gallery’s creative access audio tour of Falsework, the exhibition project by artists, Simon Grefiel and kiyoshi, curated by Mitch Kenworthy. My name is Kay Slater. I am a white, hard-of-hearing, queer settler on these stolen and unceded Coast Salish lands. As the accessibility and exhibitions manager and preparator here at grunt, I assisted in installing this work. We welcome your feedback as we develop more creative access tools for our gallery and exhibitions.

This tour has four chapters. Chapter 4 is in 6 parts related to the different exhibits in gallery. At the start of each chapter, you will hear this sound of a page turning:

( Page flips )

First is this intro. In Chapter One, I will detail entering the space and orienting yourself in the gallery. In Chapter Two, I’ll describe our welcome station and the objects available for you to use and touch. Chapter Three covers our facilities, washrooms, and C-Care stations. If you’re ready to tour the show, skip to Chapter Four, where the exhibition tour was written and narrated by curator Mitch Kenworthy. He will begin by reading the wall didactic and will walk you through the show. If you are skipping ahead, be aware that the welcome station has 2 tactile maps marked to help you navigate this tour. When Mitch moves to a new artwork, you will hear this sound of a handheld drill:

( Hand drill whirrrrrs )

Each artwork description within Chapter Four is divided into its own audio part so you can skip or return to an artwork description as you move through the show at your own pace.

Let’s get started with Chapter One.

( Page flips )

Creative Access Audio Tour – Chapter One

When approaching grunt gallery at 350 East Second Avenue from the accessible drop-off on Great Northern Way, follow the sidewalk to the building’s main entrance. Turn left at the entrance, and you’ll find us at the first exterior door, unit 116. A low-grade ramp leads to our front double doors, with automatic door buttons at waist and ankle level on a post to the right. Be cautious of the small lip at the threshold, a potential tripping hazard. Excluding Thursdays, masks are now optional and only recommended indoors at grunt; if you forgot yours, we have extras near the entrance and will not enforce their use outside of Thursdays for low-sensory and voice-off visiting hours.

Welcome to grunt gallery! We are situated on the occupied, stolen, and ancestral territory of the Hul’qumi’num and Sḵwx̱wú7mesh speaking peoples, specifically the land of the X’wmuthqueyem, Sḵwx̱wú7mesh, and Selilwitulh peoples and families. We are grateful to be here.

The current show has two installations built up from the ground and jutting from the wall. There a wide space to walk through the centre of the gallery, and all work is cane detectable and touchable. If you require assistance and are not greeted by staff upon entry, please call for help. Staff are in the office and will assist you as soon as possible. We are always happy to walk the show with you.

The public gallery space is a white cube with 20-foot walls on three sides and a 12-foot south wall that opens at the top for 8 feet before reaching the ceiling, providing light to the loft office space beyond. The office is not visible from the gallery, except for a large convex mirror that allows staff to see visitors. A tone rings when people enter the space.

On low-sensory and voice-off Thursdays, a staff member will be available but will not greet you, allowing you to move at your own pace. If you are non-visual, low-vision or Blind, call out for help anytime. If you are sighted, please silently approach a staff member. Staff will respond either through text-to-speech or will speak softly to assist you to preserve the quiet atmosphere and low-sensory programming. We have hard-of-hearing staff on site, so a visual wave may be required to get their attention.

( Page flips )

Creative Access Audio Tour – Chapter Two

As you enter the gallery, immediately to the right on the west wall is a sanitization and welcome station. The station is white with black labels in English, high-contrast icons, and some braille labels. There are three open shelves, including the top surface and two pull-out shelves below, and two closed drawers with d-hook handles.

On top of the welcome station is our gallery spider plant, Comos, who is watered on Wednesdays by our volunteer attendant Jinnie Saran. The top surface holds a leather-bound guestbook with a black pen, a bottle of hand sanitizer, and a box of masks with tongs. A digital tablet allows you to browse the exhibition page on our grunt.ca website or access our Big Cartel eCommerce store. The voice-over is turned off on the iPad, but can be turned on upon request.

On the first pull-out shelf, on the left, is the exhibition binder with large print information about the space, the show, the artist, a transcript of this tour, and the exhibition map. On the right are a series of tactile objects. Our tactile objects are creative access tools designed to create a point of entry for non-visual, Blind, or partially sighted guests who may wish to experience the work through touch or by bringing the objects close. However, tactile objects are also sensory objects that can be used by sighted folks who wish to feel a connection to the work and those who enjoy or are supported by having objects in their hands to touch. 

These tactile objects are provided as a sensory point of entry into the works and are not necessarily representative of the work or equivalent to experiencing the works through explorative touch. This show in particular can be touched, but some of the wood is raw and unfinished, so please take care in exploring to avoid splinters. The tactile objects here can be carried and explored liberally. We do not present these objects assuming that you have never had access to a charred and carved piece of wood, but we are also not assuming that you have had these experiences. Smell them, hold them, observe them. Use them however you’d like as you engage with the show.

On the second pull-out shelf, to the left, are laminated maps of the space. Also within these shelves are two tactile maps. 

A tactile dollhouse map of the gallery, and a flat 2D tactile map of the spaces past the gallery box. Use the dollhouse and 2D tactile maps to follow along with chapter 4 of this creative access tour while in gallery. Works are indicated by small-scale versions of the installations in the dollhouse map with braille markers A through H. 

On the laminated map, all the installations are named by the artists. It is worth noting that kiyoshi writes his name all in lower case without a last name, and his works are also listed all in lower case.

To the right of the maps are two Yoto audio players with large, friendly buttons. These players contain this tour and audio of any text within the binder. There is also a scannable, laminated QR code that links to this audio tour. On Thursdays, the Yoto players are moved to their carrying cases for use with headphones.

Below these are the two closed drawers. The first contains carrying cases with straps for headphones and the Yoto audio devices, allowing hands-free use. There are also tactile stim objects made by local artist Veto Monteiro.

The lowest drawer contains earmuffs for large and small bodies, specifically for those with noise sensitivities.

That concludes the description and tour of the welcome station. In the next chapter, I will tell you about our washrooms and care stations. If you’d prefer to continue with the exhibition tour, skip to Chapter Four.

( Page flips )

Creative Access Audio Tour – Chapter Three

If you need to use the washroom, it’s at the far end of our space. Exit the gallery through the doorway and continue following the west wall (to your right when you entered). Pass by the media lab, and when you reach the back wall, take a left and walk through the small kitchenette to our single-room, gender-neutral washroom.

If you’re using the 2D tactile map, the washrooms are located at H.

An automated door button to the right holds the washroom door open for 14 seconds. You can also push it open if it’s unoccupied. Inside, to the right of where you entered, is the lock button which creates a visual indicator that the washroom is in use. To exit, you can open the door manually or hover your hand over a button above the sink, below the mirror.

Near the exit button is a vertical cubby stack of supplies. Please help yourself to items like hair ties, disposable floss, sanitary napkins, and condoms. This is part of our C-Care program, Community Care for Artist-Run Events.

Speaking of C-Care, we have a tea station in our media lab at location F. If you need some energy, you can help yourself to a drink or a puréed fruit snack. This offering may occasionally be put away during low sensory hours, but you can always ask our team for a drink or snack.

In the media lab, a long table is placed perpendicular to the entrance (on your left as you approach from the gallery) with a variety of chairs closest to the gallery, and a handmade bench on the far side. The space is also decorated with objects, zines and posters shared by collaborators to the artists and curators. This space has been designed as a public gathering and hang out space during the run of the show. Have a seat, have a tea, and check out the various objects. These have been listed and described in the show binder and digital description site. Feel free to hang out, chat, draw and take a break here.

If you’re using the 2D tactile map, the C-Care tea station and break room is at location G marked by 3 rectangles.

We now arrive at Chapter Four, where Mitch will start his exhibition tour next to the welcome station at location A, as if we had just entered the gallery and stepped right to sanitize our hands and grab a map.

( Page flips )

Creative Access Audio Tour – Chapter Four

Part one: show introduction and didactic

[ Mitch Kenworthy: ] Hello, my name is Mitch, and I am the curator of this exhibition. I wrote and narrated this script and will take you on a tour of what I see in the gallery. 

I am starting this tour at the welcome station, Location A on the tactile maps in the gallery. Above the welcome station, there is a black vinyl exhibition logo installed on the gallery wall. This vinyl was designed by Simon in reference to the logo of a trades or construction company. The stylized font that Simon used in this design is derived from the font used on Tyvek rainscreen material, a moisture barrier often visible on the sides of buildings under construction. The vinyl reads: “Falsework,” underneath which it reads “Sai & kiyoshi”, with a horizontal oval containing the text “Mitch” located at the top left above the “F” in “Falsework.” I will note that Simon goes by both Simon and Sai, and opted to use Sai for his name on this. Beneath the stylized logo, the vinyl reads in plain text “curated by Mitch Kenworthy, May 1 to June 14, 2025.” This same vinyl, but in white, is also installed on the glass of the front doors of grunt gallery and is viewable from the exterior. 

From the welcome station, I am going to walk into the centre of the gallery space and turn to my right so that I am facing the west wall of grunt gallery. 

( Hand drill whirrrrrs )

Part two: past future past

I am now looking at Location B on the tactile maps. Titled past future past, this piece is a large wooden structure built by kiyoshi that stands against the gallery wall. It is constructed out of two-by-fours and plywood. It is approximately nine feet tall, eight feet across, with a depth of about four feet. The structure can be touched and is cane detectable.

There are four large casters installed on the base of this structure. They are a bright, juicy red colour which pops out and adds a stylish flair to the piece. The casters are locked, but if we were to unlock them, the structure could be rolled throughout the space by pushing it. For safety, there is also a carabiner attaching the structure to a metal hook on the wall. A carabiner is a metal hook with a latch that can be easily fastened and unfastened. It is used to link objects together. 

kiyoshi made this piece in reference to a scaffold platform that workers on a jobsite use to climb on top of in order to work at heights not accessible from the ground. This piece is sturdy, and can be used as such; kiyoshi and myself climbed on top of it in order to install some artwork over the top windows of grunt gallery that I will describe later on in this tour. To get on top of it, kiyoshi and I used a ladder. There is no ladder in the exhibition space right now. 

Some of the two-by-fours that kiyoshi used to construct this piece are plain bare wood, but other two-by-fours have squiggly, blackened patterns burned onto them. kiyoshi made these patterns by pouring grains of rice onto the wood that marked out the patterns, and then used a propane torch to burn the wood. The areas that had rice on them were protected from the torch’s flame and thus did not burn and blacken. On top of the structure are horizontally placed panels of plywood that make up the floor of the platform. 

Installed on the underside of the platform is a fluorescent light, the bulb of which has been taped with transparent red Tuck Tape branded tape, so that it casts a warm, reddish glow onto the space beneath. kiyoshi loves using Tuck Tape and it is a material that makes its way into many of his artworks. 

Tuck Tape is commonly used in construction as a strongly adhesive and water resistant tape, and it was through working various construction jobs that kiyoshi developed his affinity for it. kiyoshi and I shared a studio together and are also roommates. In the context of sharing these different spaces, I have seen him use Tuck Tape to decorate all sorts of surfaces and apply Tuck Tape over various light fixtures and lightbulbs to create a warm and ambient glow. As you will come to realize, Tuck Tape is present throughout this exhibition, and there are a few places where it can be touched. 

Underneath the scaffold structure are two white plastic deck chairs that face outwards, towards where I am standing. The “roof-like” top of the structure is 8 feet tall, so you don’t need to worry about bumping your head if you walk underneath it. If you like, you may sit on one of these plastic chairs. The backs are a little bit bendy,  but they are stable. They might have been the cheapest plastic chairs that we could purchase at Canadian Tire. kiyoshi wanted to reference the cheap and provisional seating that he is accustomed to finding on the various construction sites that he has worked on, which workers use to sit down and take a coffee break, smoke a cigarette, or have their lunch.

Mounted onto the back of this structure is a square piece of plywood set in a frame of two-by-fours. The plywood looks weathered and worn. Its surface is intensely patterned with burned and blackened lines that follow and accentuate the wood’s natural grain. kiyoshi used a propane blow torch to make the burns, and a belt sander and skill saw to carve reductive marks and gestures into the plywood. In some places, the marks go so deep that they breach the plywood, creating wound-like holes. 

A belt sander is one of Kiyoshi’s most used tools. It is an electric hand tool used to sand and smooth the surfaces of wood and lumber. A belt sander has two handles on the top and a continuous loop of sandpaper on the bottom that, when powered on, rotates very fast and with significant force. It is thus an efficient way to sand down a large or rough surface. kiyoshi does not use a belt sander in a traditional way, but works intuitively with it to create interesting and unexpected marks and gestures, kind of like he is drawing or sculpting the wood with it. On this plywood, some of the marks are thinner lines, and some are broader gestures. kiyoshi achieved these different marks by employing a variety of different motions with the belt sander, as well as cutting it with a skill saw. 

While this plywood looks rough and weathered, the belt sander has created a surface that is surprisingly smooth and pleasurable to touch. You can run your hand over the surface and feel the various grooves and marks in the wood. kiyoshi has always encouraged people to engage haptically with his work, appreciating through touch the different surfaces that he creates. Even though this surface is smooth, the areas where the belt sander has made holes in the wood could still be a little bit sharp and you want to be cautious of splinters.

I am going to walk forward so that I am underneath the structure, and sit down in one of the plastic chairs. 

( Hand drill whirrrrrs )

Now, I am comfortably seated on one of the chairs. Above my head, like a ceiling, is the underside of the sheets of plywood that make up the platform on which someone on top of this structure would stand. The surface of the plywood is very lightly blackened with burned marks and gestures. Inset in the plywood, directly over my head, is the square fluorescent light panel that kiyoshi customized with red Tuck Tape. There are many criss-crossed layers of tape and they have some punctured slits and cuts. Straight ahead to the east wall of grunt gallery is a plywood wall built by kiyoshi that supports an installation of videos by Simon playing on three monitors. To my left are the front windows and entrance of grunt gallery. The windows have an installation of Tuck Tape on them.

I am going to get up from this chair now, walk forward and then turn to the left so that I am facing north. 

( Hand drill whirrrrrs )

Part three: notes

I am now in front of Location C on the tactile map. This piece is also by kiyoshi. It is titled notes. It is an installation of Tuck Tape on the right hand side of the gridded north facing front windows of grunt gallery, as well as the central top window. The Tuck Tape has been applied on every second window pane to create an alternating checker-like pattern. 

The Tuck Tape on each window pane has been applied the same way.  It makes a rectangle pattern that encompasses the entire width and length of the window pane. The pattern is made out of strips of Tuck Tape applied starting from the top right corner that follow the edge of the window in a counterclockwise direction, filling in the space with concentric rectangles that diminish in size. In the very centre, a thin, single strip is left un-taped. This makes a narrow rectangular slit that I can still see the exterior through. 

The top window panes on this grid of windows are quite high, and kiyoshi specifically designed the aforementioned scaffold structure so that he could reach these top windows and install the Tuck Tape onto them. kiyoshi and I wheeled the scaffold platform to the windows and used a ladder to climb onto it. From there, he cut strips of Tuck Tape the appropriate length and handed them to me. I then applied them. When we finished, we wheeled the structure back to its position against the west wall.

You can gently touch the Tape Tape and feel the subtle texture made by the overlapping layers. Looking through the Tuck Taped portion of the windows, I can still make out vague shapes of foliage and see the road with cars driving past the gallery, but everything is slightly hazy and is tinted red. 

kiyoshi enjoys working in situ and responding to conditions like space and light. While he knew that he wanted to do something over the windows of grunt gallery, the exact form of notes was developed over the course of the installation. In helping kiyoshi install this piece, I gained a similar appreciation for Tuck Tape as he has. It is easy to stick onto the windows, and easy to tear or cut. It can also be peeled off the windows without too much difficulty. It is a very practical material, and I now understand why kiyoshi always has a roll of Tuck Tape around. 

I am now going to turn my body to the right. Installed on the east wall of grunt gallery is a plywood wall built by kiyoshi titled I love you as a thought, with three monitors mounted onto it playing videos by Simon. This is Location D on the tactile map, but I haven’t moved yet from the windows. Let me describe what I see still standing near the windows. 

The wall is made out of three eight foot high by four foot wide plywood panels that are screwed into a two-by-four frame. This frame holds the plywood panels off of the gallery wall by about a foot and a half. From my current position, I am looking at the north facing side of the piece, and I can see the gap between the plywood and the wall, where kiyoshi has installed three speakers on stands. I also see the power and audio cables that are running from the monitors through the plywood. This peak into the behind the scenes of how the work is powered and where the sound plays from is something I appreciate, allowing an insight into the process and care that kiyoshi put into installing this work. 

I am going to walk into the centre of the gallery space and turn to face the east wall, so that I am looking directly at this plywood wall, Location D on the tactile map.

( Hand drill whirrrrrs )

Part four: i love you as a thought

I am now standing in front of Location D on the tactile map. For now, I will ignore the monitors playing Simon’s videos, and focus on describing the plywood wall onto which they are mounted. The three eight foot tall by four foot wide panels are standard dimensions of plywood; kiyoshi has not cut them down, but instead based this wall on these dimensions. kiyoshi has again used a belt sander to make marks and gestures into the plywood. Plywood is made out of multiple very thin layers of wood veneer that have been glued and compressed together, and kiyoshi’s belt sanded marks reveal these layers, allowing me to see and feel their slight variation in colour and texture. The three panels look like they were all belt sanded together. Gestures on the left most panel move into the centre panel and can be traced all the way to the far right panel. 

The gestures are large and sweeping. While abstract in nature, the shapes and lines have an organic quality to them. I think about the marks left in wood by a termite, or the roots and branches of a tree. The gestures on the central panel are the most dense. The bottom right quadrant of this central panel has an especially worked area. Where the marks on most of the panels look like they were made by a smooth and rocking motion with the belt sander, the bottom right area looks to be worked in a staccato-like swooping and sculpting motion. The plywood is still smooth to the touch, but notably rougher than the previously described plywood that is mounted onto the piece past future past. Particularly rough is the bottom right area of the central plywood panel. You are again free to touch, but do so lightly and be wary of splinters. 

I will now describe the video installation that plays on the three monitors mounted onto the plywood wall. The piece is titled Ceremony for Smoke and Mirrors and is Location E on the tactile map. These videos are a three channel installation and are meant to be viewed all at the same time. I find myself spending some time with a scene from one video, then moving my gaze to another, then observing what is happening on all three at the same time. Each video is about a ten minute loop and is composed of multiple short, static shots. The shots fade from one shot to another, and at points one shot is even overlaid on top another shot. 

Much of footage in these videos was shot by Simon on the docks of North Vancouver, where for several years he was employed on a predominantly Filipino crew doing maintenance and fabrication on luxury yachts. Simon would shoot videos of himself and his co-workers going about their daily work and tasks. The footage included here consists of scenes of painting, constructing furniture, doing deck maintenance, cleaning, and other scenes of work. Due to an issue with permanent residency paperwork, Simon was unable to return from a recent trip to SouthEast Asia, and he completed the edit of these videos from his sister’s home in the Philippines. Included in the videos is footage from his time on this trip. Scenes of working on yachts in North Vancouver fade into scenes from the Philippines, such as a military parade or a shot of Simon’s relative taking him out fishing on a traditional wood boat and showing him how to bait a hook. These shots are also interspersed with footage downloaded from TikTok that show Filipino workers on freighters and cargo ships dancing to Budots (b-u-d-o-t-s) music, as well as Simon taking selfie videos of himself dancing in his room. 

Budots is a specific form of electronic music and dance that originated in working class areas of the southern Philippines, and in recent years has become popular across the Philippines. The music is fun, and the dance involves bending one’s knees, slowly gyrating at the hips, and moving one’s hands in tight circular motions above the head. 

The sounds in each video play over top of one another. It was Simon’s intention to reference the din and noise of a worksite, where the sounds of tools, music, banter and conversation all overlap. 

I have now described all of the works in the main exhibition space. From here, I am going to orient myself to the south and begin walking to the back of grunt gallery. On the west wall, to the left of past future past, there is more vinyl on the wall. This vinyl has the same logo and font as the other vinyl, with added text below that reads “Break Room, Exhibition Continues” with an arrow directing me to continue to the back room of grunt gallery. I walk past the stairs on my left hand side that lead to the upstairs offices and I am now in the Break Room.

( Hand drill whirrrrrs )

Part five: break room

The Break Room is Location G on the tactile map. The Break Room consists of a long white table along with rolling chairs and a bench for sitting. The rolling chairs can be pushed aside so that a wheelchair can be pulled up to the table. Installed in this space is a collection of artworks and texts by people who make up the community that kiyoshi, Simon, and myself call our friends, family, co-workers, and collaborators. Some of this material is placed on the table that is in the centre of the room, other pieces are installed and hung on the walls around it. This is a casual space, with a casual display of artworks. Myself and the artists want people to feel comfortable to take a seat here, appreciate the collection of materials available, or just hang out and enjoy a conversation. The grunt team also invites you to pour a cup of tea.

With that being said, I encourage you to take a seat. I am going to sit down on the south side of the table, on a bench that kiyoshi built out of wood. This bench should also be touched, as it has a delightfully smooth, bevelled edge to it. 

I will now provide a brief overview of The Break Room. For full visual descriptions of the artworks on display, you may consult the exhibition binder. Looking at artworks in this room is a bit like a treasure hunt; they are informally displayed throughout the space, and invite conversation and questions about who made it, what it is, why it might have been included. At the end of the day, the relaxed atmosphere of the space as a whole is more important than the individual works. 

The Break Room was conceived by the artists as an ode to a jobsite break room, where workers eat their lunch, enjoy a moment of quietude, or hang out with their co-workers away from the boss’s gaze. Over the course of producing this exhibition, Simon spoke a lot about the break room at his job on the docks of North Vancouver. Simon’s break room had a pool table in it. He and his fellow co-workers enjoyed games during lunch or after the work day. For a brief moment, he hoped he could bring a pool table into this break room. For multiple reasons, that was not feasible. Simon also spoke about the dynamics that took place in his break room. It was a space where he and his co-workers could freely complain about the bosses and the wealthy owners of the yachts they worked on. It was also a place they shared food, enjoying communal lunches in a manner that the few white co-workers on his jobsite were unaccustomed to. In a reading that Simon presented several years ago on his yacht work experiences, I recall Simon noting a particular white coworker who was new on the job. He would bring his lunch and eat it alone out of his tupperware, while eyeing the food that the Filipinos brought to share with one another. After a few weeks on the job, this person also began bringing food to share with the others, taking part in the pleasure and camaraderie of a communal lunch. This past August, myself and the artists met to go over some particulars of this exhibition. Simon brought up the idea of a break room being part of this show. kiyoshi and I readily agreed.

On the table of the Break Room is a collection of zines, some ceramic pieces, a flan tin with candles. At the west end of the table is a coil bound sketchbook and black ink pen. Guests are invited to write, doodle, or draw in the sketchbook. Beside the sketchbook is a saddle stitch stapler. This stapler was used by Kay Slater to bind kiyoshi’s zine. kiyoshi was curious how the saddle stitch stapler worked, and when Kay brought it out, kyioshi requested that it be included with the breakroom material, so that if people wanted to, they could staple together their own zines. 

On the east end of the table there is a small 22” TV monitor that plays a video by kiyoshi. This is Location F on the tactile map. The TV stands on a homemade mount that kiyoshi made out of two-by-fours and Tuck Tape. The tension of the Tuck Tape is what keeps the monitor upright, so be very gentle if you wish to touch it. 

The TV plays a video piece by kiyoshi titled 7-9-1 body break. 7-9-1 body break is composed of a looped series of shots taken out the window of a car while driving. All of the shots are a pinkish hue that kiyoshi achieved by taping a piece of Tuck Tape over the lens of the iPhone used to shoot this footage, effectively making a filter out of the Tuck Tape. The video has an ambient, background-like quality to it. It is like having a TV on that you are not fully paying attention to. 

On the walls are some photographs Tuck Taped up in the temporary fashion of posters, a few drawings, and a poster that reads: “Fuck your job, money is fake, society isn’t natural, and the sun is going to explode.”  There is also a trucker’s cap with the Tuck Tape logo, and another poster with a clock that shows it is beer o’clock. In a provisional and in-progress manner, an unsecured diagonal corner shelf made from pieces of two-by-fours supports a lamp made out of a vacuum filter.

Along the south wall, there is a piece of plywood that has a black and white print placed onto it, and a plinth on the ground, on top of which are several sculptures made from different materials, like cement, left over sticker paper, and kitchen strainers. The collection is eclectic, fun, and showcases the breadth of the community in which myself and the artists’ practices are situated and supported. Check out the binder for more details on each of these objects, and keep checking back, as the artists plan to add more objects throughout the course of this exhibition. 

That concludes the tour. 

( Hand drill whirrrrrs )

Part six: conclusion

[ Kay: ] With that, we conclude the described tour of Falsework. Later, during the exhibition’s run, we will have a publication available for the show and an alternative text version available in plain text or AI-generated audio, both on our website and through the Yoto players in gallery.

Thank you so much for joining us on this creative access audio tour! We’d love to hear your thoughts on this experience and how we can improve it. If you carried any tactile object(s) during the tour, please return it to the welcome station! We acknowledge that we cannot be everything to everyone, and respect that our creative access explorations may not serve your needs. You can reach us at access@grunt.ca or chat with any of the staff on site with any feedback you have the capacity to provide.

Thank you again.

Curatorial Essay

Falsework: Simon Grefiel & kiyoshi

by Mitch Kenworthy

Out of another rebar latticed pit emerges another homogenous glass and concrete building. I pass multiple construction sites on my way to work each day. I appreciate the daily progress of a thing being built; the itinerant liminality of a scaffold exoskeleton, the slender verticality of falsework columns supporting freshly poured layers of concrete slab, the bright white rectangle of a piece of Tyvek billowing in the wind like a sail. I prefer the under construction to the constructed. I prefer the means to the ends. Better to write about the working, and the way the work is done.

“I LOVE baseball!” So goes the refrain in a text kiyoshi wrote and presented as a public reading a few years ago. I can attest, as kiyoshi’s friend, roommate, and former studiomate, that he does indeed love baseball. Watching baseball, playing baseball, “the most pastoral sport,” kiyoshi declares. Over the years, he has filled me in on the finer points of the game, from oddball pitching techniques and bullpen tactics, to the proletarian ethos of careers spent bouncing around the minor leagues. Sitting in the dugout, kicking at grass in the outfield, the pleasure of swinging a real wood bat; located in kiyoshi’s love of baseball is an appreciation for rhythmic slowness and haptic beauty that maps aptly onto his expansive and embodied practice. 

I knew kiyoshi at first primarily as a performance-based artist. His pieces somatically engaged space and architecture in a manner plainly legible in his material work, where a performative spirit lingers in the emphasis that he puts on the act of doing and making. kiyoshi privileges process and is attuned to the attendant sensations and pleasures of working on things. He works slowly, whittling away in the studio, working on other things; gardening, fashioning furniture for his bedroom out of appropriated lumber, redesigning the interior of our apartment. These activities are all significant to his practice, a practice in which he not only responds to the conditions that he is situated in at a given time, but actively constructs them. 

kiyoshi is keenly sensitive to the spaces he inhabits. In the studio that we shared, he walled in his section with two-by-fours and plywood. I was struck by the fact that he didn’t make this space and then make work within it. Rather, the space was his work. During this period, kiyoshi spent most of his spare time at the studio—even surreptitiously living there—and his space reflected his needs and desires at a given point; closing in, opening up, summarily deconstructed, reconfigured, and rebuilt in what was a years-long pursuit of architecting a space. The back doors of this studio opened up into a well traversed alleyway in Vancouver’s Riley Park neighbourhood. kiyoshi preferred them ajar, using the exterior to do his messier woodwork (notably burning and belt sanding lumber that made up the walls of his space). I appreciated the generosity with which he engaged passersby, conversing with them about what he was up to, establishing relationships with regulars. This way of working was out of necessity, keeping sawdust and fumes away from his studiomates. But there was also a clear affinity for the social and public context. 

In the tools and materials that kiyoshi uses, necessity and affinity meet again. There is an economic frugality at play. He has the tools he uses because of the jobs that he works. Materials like lumber are often collected in the form of leftovers and offcuts and are then reused in multiple projects, becoming wrought indexes of his labour in the process. But there is also a familiar affection for these tools and materials, one born out of long hours working with them in various trades and construction jobs. Formative to kiyoshi are the years he spent working for his father’s contracting company doing renovations around Vancouver. Days spent in rooms and buildings in various stages of construction and demolition are alluded to in the bare and unfinished stance of his woodworked structures. 

In Falsework, kiyoshi shows a plywood wall and scaffold-like platform, respectively titled past future past and i love you as a thought. These works importantly also do work; the plywood wall supporting a series of monitors playing videos by Simon, and the scaffold-like platform functioning as a stage for a performance and a means to install notes, the Tuck Tape installation across the top windows of grunt gallery. Much of the lumber that kiyoshi used to construct these pieces formed the walls of his current studio space. Dismantled, brought to grunt gallery and constructed in situ, the works and the site of their production are effectively collapsed. 

Last summer, I attended a beer-league baseball game that kiyoshi was playing in. He wore a Ford branded trucker cap that he had tie-dyed with bleach in our bathtub, reflective red cycling sunglasses purchased on his way to a landscaping gig, and a pair of electric blue cleats with knee high socks. His stance at bat had the same singular flair as his outfit; acutely crouched while dramatically shifting his weight from foot to foot. Between innings, kiyoshi offered me a beer pulled out of a waxed cardboard produce box that he had fashioned into a front rack for his bicycle and adorned with Tuck Tape. Everything kiyoshi does is approached with a certain aesthetic flourish, an appreciation for the potentials of ruggedly utilitarian matter, and an ethos of care. I think about a quote by Jan Verwoert that kiyoshi shared with me in an epistolary exchange of writing from one of our previous projects, “and why do we often enough go to extremes to do the things we seek to do in the way we think they need to be done? Because we care.”

My first engagement with Simon’s practice was caring for his plants. Potted in vessels made out of delicately sautered stained glass, they were shown in Flying Kiss for Receiving Cheek, an exhibition in the window space of The Libby Leshgold Gallery, where I work. It was 2021 and we were in the midst of COVID-19 lockdowns and restrictions. Access to the gallery was limited and discouraged. The windowed exhibition space heated up like a greenhouse in the sun, and Simon’s plants withered without daily watering. A banana tree was particularly mal-affected. During this unstable and uncertain time, my days took on a rhythm based on biking down to the gallery every afternoon to ensure these plants were properly watered and cared for. To my great pleasure, by the close of the exhibition the banana tree was thriving and had even begun to sprout new fronds. 

Following this exhibition, the plants and stained glass vessels were shipped to the Vancouver Art Gallery, where they were included in that year’s Vancouver Special triennial. Concern over fluctuating relative humidity levels meant that staff at the VAG were stingy with watering, reportedly telling Simon it could impact their ability to one day borrow a Rembrandt. When I attended the exhibition, the banana tree was in a sadly withered state. It presented a very different read than one fecund and verdant; a victim of colonial museology, whose care ironically came second to borrowing a work by a painter ensconced in a Dutch Golden Age contingent on VOC exploitation of Austronesia.  

Last year, I visited Simon’s studio. Neatly organized in one of his workbench drawers were the pieces of stained glass from the vessels in which the banana tree and other plants were shown. He had taken them apart and was refashioning them into new work. The glass was stored along with the rest of his vast collection of materials: pieces of teak, tubes of silicone and marine caulking, dried plants, memorabilia from the Philippines, offcuts of wood and myriad other items. Like kiyoshi, Simon reworks the same materials into multiple pieces and projects, and readily gleans these materials from his various day jobs. The stained glass were offcuts collected while Simon worked as a studio assistant for artist Julian Hou. Other materials were collected as leftovers from his job at the docks in North Vancouver, where Simon was employed on a predominantly Filipino crew doing maintenance and fabrication on high end yachts. It was here that he shot much of the footage for his three channel video installation, Ceremony for Smoke and Mirrors.

Expanding on his propensity to collect and gather material, the videos in this installation are composed from a vast archive of digital material shot and saved on Simon’s phone. They are edited in a way that, to quote the artist, maintains “a social media vernacular.” Simon is active on social media. His instagram stories, which I understand as an extension of his practice and desire to create and communicate, showcase insights into the places and communities in which he is situated at a given time, time lapses of a day’s work, research into interconnected Austronesian pasts and presents, notes on the politico-ethno-linguistic significance of Filipino budots music, and scenes of raves and dance parties that for Simon are of course a form of research, too. They provide a well framed glimpse into whatever has piqued Simon’s nimble curiosity at a given time. Follow him to see what I mean: @sa4iiii. 

Shooting footage at his jobsite affects a reformatting of Simon’s wage labour into an extension of his artistic labour. It is a creative act, that along with dancing, day dreams, longings for home, and the fellowship and camaraderie of coworkers, is presented in Ceremony for Smoke and Mirrors as inevitably infiltrating and ornamenting the rote work of manual labour. For Simon, a Waray-Waray speaking Filipino working on yachts in North Vancouver, this piece is also a tender reflection on his connection to a long lineage of Filipino marine labourers; from Enrique of Malacca, to Ben Flores, to the local fishermen in Simon’s hometown of Tacloban City, to his coworkers on the docks of North Vancouver and the Filipinos employed on international freighters and cargo ships the world over, working in an industry where hierarchies are well stratified based on what author Leila Kahlili locates as “the global colour line running through wage and recruitment strategies.” Captains and officers regularly consist of white Europeans, while under their purview are crews most often made up of workers from the Global South. We all work for money, but some money is worth more than other money, some work pays more than other work, some bodies do work that other bodies do not. But see Simon’s videos: Who are the ones dancing budots on the decks of freighters as they traverse the world’s seas? While not an antidote to global economic disparities, it is an act that asserts—along with any creative gesture not in the service of producing surplus value for one’s employer while on the job—that the working body is still the worker’s body. 

When we conceived of this exhibition, Simon’s plan was to solely use footage shot at his North Vancouver jobsite. Due to an issue with permanent residency paperwork that has left him unable to return from a recent trip to SouthEast Asia, he finalized this piece from his sister’s home in the Philippines. Ever responsive to his site and circumstance, the final edit includes footage collected from his time on this trip, condensing and overlaying the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean that both separates and connects Tacloban City in the Philippines with the Salish Sea that laps against the docks of North Vancouver.

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Board: veto monteiro

Title: Board President
Pronouns: they/them/theirs
Email: vitoriamont4@ gmail.com
Ask them about: community art workshops, why they love grunt gallery, sourdough baking, fidget toys at galleries, games (any kind).

Name Pronunciation: V (like the English letter V)-e (like the English letter E) toe (like the word toe) Monteiro (mon-TAY-ro)

Biography

veto, Board President, is an artist and cultural worker whose practice investigates the materiality of language through papermaking, sculpture, and textual intervention. Their citational research explores how meaning can exist beyond conventional language structures while interrogating inherited systems of fluency. Born in Belém do Pará and raised between Recife and Turtle Island, they hold a BFA from Simon Fraser University. With over a decade of experience working with non-profits, their community practice centers accessible, care-based, and joyful approaches to existing within art and cultural spaces. veto currently serves as Artistic Engagement Director at WePress Community Arts Space Society.

Contact Information

You can email our board directly at board@grunt.ca, or leave a message with the gallery by calling 604-875-9516

Visual Description

veto is a 5’2 human with a fair olive complexion. They have wavy shoulder-length dark brown hair that is shaggy and messy (in a cool way) and is often up in a clip or hat. They have various piercings around their head, including one in their septum and five in their ears, all gold hoops (think “pirate”). You will often encounter them with a hat on, wearing well-loved Dr. Martens, headphones around their ears, and a knitting project on the go.

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Staff: Şebnem Özpeta

Title: Creative Technologist: Storykeeper of Art & Process, MPCAS Technical Coordinator
Pronouns: she/her
Email: tech@grunt.ca
Ask them about: MPCAS, videos and photography

Name Pronunciation: Şebnem is an original, Persian female name meaning “morning dew”. The “Ş” is pronounced like the English “sh”, and “e” is short. The stress falls on the first syllable: SHEB-nem. Phonetic Spelling:[ Shaebnaem ]

Biography

Şebnem Ozpeta, Creative Technologist, is an immigrant filmmaker, multimedia artist, mentor, and curator. She has worked mostly on community-focused projects and collaborations with artists on stolen land. At grunt gallery, she supports the Mount Pleasant Community Art Screen as a technical coordinator, working closely with programmers since 2018. She also co-facilitates the Digital Storytelling workshop alongside lead filmmaker Lorna Boschman. Additionally, she applies her filmmaking skills to produce Tactile Residency Videos with Kay and the AEP team and document gallery events and artist talks.

She is passionate about experimenting new techniques in digital and analog filmmaking—from hand-processing film to crafting data-driven visual narratives. She is part of “Our World Language Film Programme” led by Lisa g Nielsen where she travels remote areas to share her skills with Indigenous youth and elderly “how to make films” and curate their works. 

Contact Information

Email: tech@grunt.ca
Best way to contact Sebnem : Email or call the gallery 604-875-9516

Visual Description

Şebnem is a middle-aged woman with brown eyes and self-cut funkish wavy black hair from the Middle East, with brown skin reflecting her mixed roots from both Eastern and Western Turkey. She is 5’4 and carries her in balance. You will see her generally wearing casual anything black.

Image Description: Sebnem wears all black, standing in a busy-looking industrial hall. She takes her photo using a reflection in a mirror with her mobile phone. She has a canvas tote bag with a Coast Salish image of an animal, and a yellow bag strapped to her waist.

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Staff: Kira Saragih

Title: Archives Intern
Pronouns: she/her
Email: kira@grunt.ca
Ask Kira about: Archives, Creative Access Descriptions, crochet/knitting

Name Pronunciation: Key-ra. Last name: Sa-ra-geeh

Biography

Kira Saragih, Archives Intern, is a tan-skinned, Indonesian woman and artist living on the unceded territories of the Xwməθkwəy̓əm (Musqueam), Skwxwú7mesh (Squamish) and Səl̓ílwətaʔ (Tsleil-Waututh) Nations. At grunt, she works at the intersection of archives and access, writing image descriptions for images on grunt’s archives website as well as captions and transcriptions for videos. Kira also maintains a textile practice, drawing inspiration from her hometown, Jakarta, she makes crocheted tapestries about common everyday objects and spaces that speak on their essentiality and how these elements contribute to community-making in underappreciated ways. Kira holds a BFA in Visual Arts from Simon Fraser University.

Contact Information

Email: kira@grunt.ca
Best way to contact Kira: Through email or visit the gallery on Tuesdays. You can also call the gallery, 604–875–9516, and leave a message.

Visual Description

Kira is a 5’1”, tan-skinned Indonesian woman with a short, average build. She has long, black hair and wears rectangular pink glasses. She is often dressed in blue jeans, a white t-shirt, a dark olive-green fleece cardigan and white slip-on shoes.

Image Description: A tan-skinned, Indonesian woman with long dark hair wearing rectangular, pink-framed glasses, a sky-blue hand-knitted hooded scarf, and a beige coat. She poses and smiles, looking towards the camera while standing against a lush, green, grassy hill lined with shrubberies and a cloudy blue sky in the background.

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Staff: Jessica Fletcher

Title: Archives Digitization Assistant
Pronouns: she/her
Email: jessica@grunt.ca
Ask them about: grunt Archives, digitization, CollectiveAccess, her dog Emmy and cat Hank

Name Pronunciation: Jess, rhymes with Stress. Fletch-er, rhymes with Sketcher

Biography

Jessica Fletcher, Archives Digitization Assistant, is a white settler of British and Black Sea German descent, born and raised on the traditional territory of the Ktunaxa, and currently living on the unceded territories of the Skwxwú7mesh, Xwməθkwəyə̓m, and Səlilwətaɬ. She works at grunt gallery digitizing documentation from the past 40+ years of the gallery’s programming and populating and maintaining the archival database. Her larger digitization projects have focused on grunt’s many performance art series, spanning from the early 1990s to the LIVE Biennial series in the mid-2000s. Jessica holds an Associate of Arts from Langara College, a Bachelor of Arts in Art History from the University of British Columbia, and a Professional Specialization Certificate in Collections Management from the University of Victoria. When not a grunt, you can typically find her deep in a book, at a concert, on a mountain, or at the Morris and Helen Belkin Art Gallery where she also works as Exhibitions and Collections Assistant. Through digital databases, collections care, and exhibition installations, Jessica’s career focuses on assisting artists and communities in telling their stories and on audiences finding and accessing those stories.

Contact Information

Email: jessica@grunt.ca
Best way to contact Jessica: Email or visit the gallery on Wednesdays or Fridays

Visual Description

Jessica is 5’8” with long bleached hair and very pale skin. She typically wears black boots, large earrings, sunscreen year-round, and a bold lipstick, usually red.

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Staff: Hedy Wood

Title: Gallery Attendant
Pronouns: she/her

Name Pronunciation: Head-dy

Biography

Hedy Wood, Gallery Attendant, has been working with/in artist run galleries since the 1980s; first at the Unit/Pitt Gallery and also at grunt. She’s been the Saturday gallery attendant here at grunt for the last 12 years or so.

Contact Information

Best way to contact Hedy :Call the gallery 604-875-9516

Visual Description

I am 5’6”, usually wearing jeans and boots. I have glasses and shoulder length light brown hair. I often wear a scarf or a sweater that I crocheted, and that usually has some cat hair on it.

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Staff: Dan Pon

Title: Archives Manager
Pronouns: he/him
Email: Email dan@grunt.ca
Ask him about: grunt history, community archives, research, images/video/documents in the archive, technology, where things are, how things were, skateboarding, cats, bikes, gardening

Name Pronunciation: Dan (rhymes with can, pan, ban, man), Pon (rhymes with dawn, lawn, gone)

Biography

Dan Pon 盤大明, Archives Manager, is a librarian and archivist of mixed Cantonese and European settler ancestry, living on unceded Coast Salish territories. He is the Archives Manager at grunt gallery, where he works to preserve and share material and non-material culture, support research and creative interventions, and platform imaginative models at the intersection of visual arts and information science. His recent work includes facilitating the collaborative public programming series Recollective, creating a digital collection documenting the early years of LIVE Biennial of Performance Art, and managing the migration of grunt’s collection into a new database platform. His work has been published here and there, but he is most interested in supporting artists and art workers labour toward a more equitable and caring arts sector. Dan holds an MLIS from UBC and also works as a librarian at Langara College.

Contact Information

Email: dan@grunt.ca
Best way to contact Dan: Call 604-875-9516, or visit the gallery Tuesday-Friday 10am-5pm

Visual Description

Dan is a 5’11” or 180cm tall middle-aged mixed-race Asian man with short dark hair, brown eyes, and thick eyebrows. He typically wears jeans or slacks, a plain hoodie, a baseball cap or toque, and black sneakers. 

Image Description: Dan stands against a white gallery wall, smiling at the camera. He wears a grey hooded sweatshirt and a bright yellow 2″ button with the Palestine flag.

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Staff: Leslie Ken Chu

Title: Administrative Assistant
Pronouns: he/him/his
Email: leslie@grunt.ca

Name Pronunciation: First name: LES-lee, Middle name: Ken (rhymes with den, pen), Last name: Chu (like to “chew” food).

Biography

Leslie Ken Chu, Administrative Assistant, is a writer and arts organizer of Chinese descent living, working, and playing on the unceded territories of the Skwxwú7mesh, Xwməθkwəyə̓m, and Səlilwətaɬ Nations. He has worked in live event marketing and publicity at the Vancouver Folk Music Festival and Rickshaw Theatre. He currently serves as a juror for the Polaris Music Prize and Prism Prize. He also co-curates an annual sound art residency program through the Media Arts Committee and is an active co-founding member of Canadian music journalism co-op New Feeling.

Contact Information

Email: leslie@grunt.ca

Visual Description

I am a 5’9” Chinese man in his mid-30s, usually wearing mostly black, including graphic t-shirts of bands and Vancouver-based visual artists. I have black-rimmed glasses, short black hair, and usually no facial hair. I often wear a black, worn-down leather jacket.

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Staff: Katrina Orlowski

Title: Program Director
Pronouns: they/them/theirs
Email: katrina@grunt.ca
Ask them about: any general information about grunt, our programming, including exhibitions, the Mount Pleasant Community Art Screen, and the Blue Cabin Floating Artist Residency, calls for submissions, special projects, and partnership opportunities.

Name Pronunciation: First name: kah-TREE-nah. Last name: or-LOV-ski

Biography

Katrina Orlowski, Program Director, is a cultural worker, curator and artist who has spent over a decade in the artist-run communities of Vancouver and Toronto. They are a white, queer, disabled settler of Eastern European and Irish descent who has lived most of their life on the lands of the Musqueam, Squamish and Tsleil-Waututh Nations. Their background includes a decade in academia and a couple of decades working and dreaming in DIY community arts spaces, with particular focus on film, video and media arts. They are excited by collaborative processes, intersectional knowledge exchange, and experiments with language and storytelling. As Program Director, Katrina oversees all aspects of grunt’s programming and planning.

Contact Information

Email: katrina@grunt.ca
Best way to contact Katrina: Please email or call grunt gallery at 604-875-9516 to leave a message for them. They work both from home and at the grunt office.

Visual Description

Katrina is 5’9”, white, with very short auburn hair, large glasses, a silver nose ring, and many black ink tattoos mainly on their arms and one on their left hand. They dress in a casual style that suits their comfort and fun, almost always have bright coloured nail polish, and generally wear highly cushioned and supportive sneakers.

Image Description: A close-up photo of Katrina with a slight smile on their face and one hand casually curled in front of their chest. They have big, dark green plastic-framed glasses, a nose ring, a silver chain necklace and orange-painted nails. Behind them is a big sunny window with plants hanging.

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