This issue’s theme—“Out of the Ethers: Art as a Cultural Force”— explores where art comes from and invites us to confront not only its aesthetic function but its political impact as well. In thinking about examples of art as a cultural force, I was inspired to connect the dots from art and culture to Palestine and “the most influential museum of modern art in the world.”
In February 2024, I drove through heavy snowfall from Nova Scotia to New York City. A record-breaking storm had paralyzed travel, leading to the cancellation of my flights.
Despite what would appear to be the universe telling me not to go, my determination to get to New York was—perhaps irrationally—stronger than my concern about dangerous driving conditions. After a grueling 17-hour journey, I jumped into a quintessential NYC tourist experience: Times Square, Broadway, pizza, and of course, a visit to the acclaimed art galleries and museums.
Visiting the iconic MoMA was at the top of my to-do list. We started on the fifth floor, where Van Goghs and Picassos are displayed in abundance. Visitors crowded around Starry Night, absorbing its vibrant hues through the screens of their phones. Standing there with them, the scene struck me as a peculiarly modern paradox: despite the physical presence of the art, many people viewed it through their phones, interrupting their direct engagement with the piece.
This disconnect speaks broadly to how we’ve also come to view world events—through the screens of our phones. Tragedies, injustices and genocides are scrolled past, as we swipe straight on to the next product-unboxing video or the next shopping haul. This can make each event seem on a par with the others, trivializing tragedy and elevating the mundane. As a result, these mediated experiences leave us less empathetic and responsive to both art and real-world crises.
Though our connection to the world can often be blunted by our screens, we are in fact no less connected to it than before… Just as the walls enclosing the museum do not isolate it from the events unfolding in the world outside.
MoMA, often hailed as “the most influential museum of modern art in the world,” is vast and sprawling. After making our way down from the Soup Cans (Warhol) and Lichtensteins, my partner and I stopped for a coffee break on the second floor. A commotion broke out in an atrium across the hall. Curiosity piqued, we rushed over from where we were lounging to see what was happening.
We stepped into the atrium to find hundreds of young people seated on the ground, masked and chanting. I glanced upward to see a large banner being unfurled from the fifth-floor balcony. It was then that I realized we had stumbled into a flash protest.
“Free—Free—Palestine!” the room chanted.
It wasn’t long before security guards started blocking entrances to the rest of the museum, corralling both demonstrators and gallery-goers into the atrium. My partner and I chose to remain, feeling we were witnessing an important cultural moment, one far more meaningful than any of the paintings or photographs we had come to see. The resolve and passion in the demonstrators’ voices brought me to tears.
Museum staff ushered confused patrons away from the scene, although the gift shops remained open in perfect dystopian fashion. A well-dressed woman approached us to ask what was going on. “It’s a protest. For Palestine,” I explained. Couldn’t she see the hundreds of people sitting in the auditorium and the massive banner looming above us? She scoffed in offense and annoyance, as if nothing could be more important than her visit to the museum.
This experience highlighted for me the true power of art as a cultural force, which lies not so much in the artworks themselves as in the people behind them. It’s the artists and activists who drive change, often facing significant intersectional barriers in terms of access, resources, support and status. Art is not just about the aesthetic experience but also the ideas and emotions it can provoke through the voices and actions of its creators. The demonstration at MoMA was a poignant reminder that art and activism are intrinsically linked and that the museum, a hub of creative expression, is also a platform for political expression.
In this issue on “Out of the Ethers: Art as a Cultural Force,” we spotlight artists who respond to their worlds directly, whether it be through fibre art, ink on paper or words that probe, poke and leave us pondering. These gutsy artists, authors and creators are essential voices in a world where many are disconnected from reality. What drives them to create? How does their work impact them and their communities and beyond?
Serai’s writer in residence, Dan David, offers his second essay in a series, this time on the theme of “Degrees of Relativity.” He quotes Simukai Chigudu, Lupita Nyong’o, Steve Biko and Dr. Lwazi Lushaba—who all know a thing or two about colonialism and its ongoing grip on us—and interviews three powerhouse women who are a cultural force in their own right. Dorothy Christian, Zainab Amadahy and Bonita Lawrence share their insights on divisions and connectedness between First Peoples and Black and other peoples of colour. Canada’s policy of multiculturalism is dissected as an extension of Canada’s colonial system.
“Living under colonization is very dangerous for people. We’re taught to fear each other. We’re separated so we don’t know anything about each other… We’re still learning about each other.”
Zainab Amadahy
On the cover of our issue, artist and sex worker Justine Béliveau shares her powerfully tender and honest fibre pieces, transforming ordinary materials like laundry lint into art works that lay bare their history and command respect.
In his beautiful ruminations on his father’s life and death, Pranav Prakash’s illustrations interweave intricate art and storytelling in the Maithil tradition (minus the “vivid, cheery colours”). He asks, “How tragic would a creative work be if it failed to unravel the complex realities of ordinary folks?”
Razor-edged, Nicola Vulpe’s poems cut through pretense and tell us exactly where they come from and what force they carry:
If light-starved could be gooey ache, and smell—just slightly—of carrion.
Well, there you have it— where they come from, the poems.
In Ami Sands Brodoff’s short story “Talking on the Wall,” a young girl accompanied by a Sister navigates a long gray hallway to reunite with a mother she can’t remember. “… the nun says her mami did a bad thing, but she isn’t bad herself.”
Veena Gokhale reviews Deborah Dundas’ On Class, a slim book that unpacks privilege, the systemic factors behind poverty and the difficulties of climbing out of it. Dundas relies on interviews with others like her, who grew up poor and are no longer silent about it.
The issue features two book reviews by Maya Khankhoje. In “Envisioning a sovereign confederation of Indigenous peoples,” she offers readers a succinct summary in English of Sipi Flamand’s vision of a decolonized Indigenous future (Nikanik e itapian: un avenir autochtone « décolonisé »). The author, who is in his early thirties, is chief of the Manawan Atikamekw community in Québec.
Khankhoje’s review of Arise! makes a case for history to recognize the Mexican Revolution’s leading role in inspiring a radical social movement toward equity and peace.
You can tune in to our late co-founder Rana Bose’s spoken-word prose piece, “Namesake and Volver,” reprinted from 2014, brimming with the insights of an emigré whose children have left the nest.
New York-based artist Sharon Bourke’s “A Communion with the Atmosphere” is also reprinted here from 2021, featuring nine colourful art pieces and reflections on her life-long experiences as an African-American artist, activist and poet. “Works of art reveal themselves to me, rather than my creating or composing preconceived notions…”
In “Monologues for Gaza,” be sure not to miss filmmaker Dipti Gupta’s moving response to the crisis in Gaza in her audio poem, “I am Falasteen!”
