First of all, I really want to express that I loved this assignment. Sometimes my friends are amazed by the coolest stuff we get to do in the department.
I ventured on the sound walk with a group of members from the Sound 1 class. By the time we got to Griffintown, it was 5:30 P.M., and beginning to get dark. It sort of set the mood--eerie. Griffintown is beautiful in it’s own way.
What amazed me was that we began on the corner of a busier, more industrialized street. That old man’s little tune was creepy/interesting as it set the mood immediately. What creeped me out was how I could imagine the kids climbing that eerie building. It’s huge and I think it’s great how it’s still errected. As we walked along the right side of it towards Ann, there were holes here and there with plastic. I felt rebellious, so I ripped a hole in the plastic that was covering the holes from the inside (...pretty sure that’s illegal...)...Whatever! It was cool, we peeked inside. Colin managed to get a picture. There was construction/some type of welding going on. It was crazy because the inside is really old and run down. I can picture the brewery and the kids running around on the inside. For some reason, I kept getting images in my head that made me think of Irish films that I’ve seen. Even though I was in a historical Montreal neighborhood, I could feel the diminished culture.
When I saw the Lowney sign all I could think about was the font. In our Intermedia class we basically spent an entire class discussing fonts (mainly helvetica...). But I remember two typeface designers discussing how in contracts, construction companies often used their own typeface in creating signs. The typeface in the picture below is unusal and really pretty. I love the building itself too...I felt like it was Charlie’s chocolate factory...It was there, but intangible. In my mind, it was unfathomable that this was once a bustling area of the neighborhood. The only people I saw were hurridly passing through, or driving (mostly honking at Beccy and I because we kept taking random pictures of things...).
Once we got to the open parking lot space near the Towney Chocolate Factory, I felt goosebumps. Hearing the resident’s stories enriched the experience. I grew up in a neighborhood similar to the one being discussed...with mothers on stoops, kids running around; it was nostalgic. I felt nostalgic for the residents themselves.
It’s interesting because in class, Giuliana (most likely the only one who will read this...;)!) discussed how students don’t know where to put their eyes when listening to sound without an image. It was great because the voices and their stories totally enriched this part of the experience. It was dark out, and we could see into the apartment buildings that stand today. In one way, it was weird because I could picture the homes where they once were, yet there were new “homes” there with people living in the exact spots that the residents had spent their childhoods/adulthoods.
When the woman began talking about her mother and the teachers, it shed light on the fact that where I was standing; many many years before, many other students were in the same place, learning different things. It was a crazy thought of me being in the future. I felt like it was 1948 and I was a student looking at this place that had so many complexities in it.The lady who spoke about how she misses Griffintown breaks my heart...
Being in this neighborhood, and looking behind me out into the city scape made me think how crazy it was that 50 years ago, a resident would have seen clear skies in comparison to a line of shining lights in the darkness of the creepy Lowney building....
In hearing the resident’s stories, I imagined fathers spending paycheques at the bars and stumbling home to the stoops of where the homes once stood. As they said, it was not a happy place, nor a sad place, but a happy medium. As I grew up in a lower-class neighborhood, I could only imagine the seemingly familiar feelings that the residents shared about their life in Griffintown.
I couldn’t help but laugh when hearing the old wive’s tale...”Irish” tale about the ghost. First of all, that area is SO creepy! Phil Fortin and Colin sped ahead into a little tunnel-like area while Beccy, Aleks, and I stood behind and examined some old dumpsters in front of a creepy building off Ottawa street. The old woman talks about how she hold the tale and firmly believed that the ghost was indeed a prostitute but not a ghost...then one old man just said he flat out didn’t believe in it...I love the reference to the way how irish love storytelling- Ha Ha! It was insanely quiet in that area, and I firmly believe in spirits and ghosts, so I did get a little suspicious after seeing all the old buildings and rubble everywhere.
In standing where the church once stood, I could feel the spirits and history beneath my feet. Eerie as it was, it captivated my attention. The women reading the poem had a chilling voice and was remorseful of the church closing. It made me so very sad that such a historical and important emblem of where Griffintown’s residents had retreated to most likely every Sunday no longer existed. However, it’s roots and feelings are not forgotten. Those who visit the place will see the stones of where St. Ann’s Church once adorned the troublesome neighborhood of so many who called it home.
Griffintown is interesting, and I find it sad that it wasn't preserved more so than it is. It’s fantastic that you can walk through the area and see remnants of what was a home to 8,000 people of dominantly Irish descent. The construction going on is a little depressing. I think that there should be some type of committee to work on preserving the area bit more and possible turning into a memorial dedicated to the immigrants and residents that once resided in Griffintown. I’m going to bring my Mom around this area when she visits, mostly because it’s interesting for me, as a person from a different part of Canada, to see first hand such a historical place.
God bless the Irish! :)! Can we do Chinatown next? Please!!!
-phil
