20:00h
On Saturday night, Montreal seems to have been injected with hydrogen. Groups of girls wearing pointy heels half-run, half-shuffle along the sidewalk, late for somebody's pre-game or maybe a house party. They stumble, nearly trip, laugh at their gorgeous, impractical choice in footwear, and then continue running towards the crosswalk.
My husband and I are running too, the fall leaves shoving at our heels, urging us towards the Van Horne Bridge.
We’re on our way to the 9th annual MAPP festival, a combination of food, music and projection mapping which showcases local and international artists. We’re hoping to catch the Digital Block Party at the Van Horne Skate Park before heading to the Closure Party, a final interactive arts and music experience held at the moment factory.
In the distance, we can see a moving graphic that reads “MAPP Montreal” projected on a red brick mid-rise tenement.
At the Digital Block Party, the crowd mainly consists of tired parents on their third or fourth beer sitting dutifully by the skate park where their children climb and tumble over the cement depressions. There are only two projection installations, one of which is a collaborative project in which party guests are encouraged to draw on an iPad. Their designs then become integrated and projected on the underbelly of the bridge. The result is a competing assembly of finger drawings jerking and bouncing off one another. Partygoers seem to be enjoying themselves, gathered in groups around the iPads.
Jumpsource is at the DJ booth playing to a small group of millennials, half nodding, half distracted by the chaotic projections above their head.
My husband wants a beer but I don’t want to wait in the line that extends about halfway into the other art piece projected on the brick wall that houses Nouvelle Établissement. I would have loved to get a better look at it but the line is too dense and doesn't seem to be moving quickly.
Oh well.
We decide to wait it out until the Closure Festival.
23:22h
The Moment Factory is hidden amongst apartment buildings and restaurants long since closed for the day. The open doors of the venue glow invitingly with a few guests sprinkled across the pavement staircase. Its seclusion makes me feel exclusive and I briefly excuse the embarrassing name of the venue.
Inside, we’re greeted by an array of disco balls and smooth reflective globes arranged decoratively around a five-foot zebra statue. The space we have stepped into is decorated with various art projections winding around us like a maze. There are three main sections: the art exhibit/bar, the back patio and the dance floor. People filter throughout, carrying cans of organic non-alcoholic spritzers and craft beers. I’m drawn to the dance floor but I have to watch my step, careful not to disturb anybody’s photo op with the projections or the disco zebra.
On the floor, I am finally given what I was promised, complete immersion in sound and projection. Frankie Teardrop is in front of the table, spinning non-offensive trance-inducing house music. People on the floor dance accordingly, swaying and nodding, leaving a respectful half meter between one another. It’s not my kind of music but I’m able to appreciate it as an atmospheric companion to the beautiful projections on the wall opposite the DJ booth. Lasers flash geometric red and orange neons folding and unfolding around each other like pieces of a puzzle.
When Frankie passes the torch on to the next DJ Esther Côté, the beat seems to be fixed and I’ve seen the entire projection loop twice. A small selection of faithful ravers who seem to be enjoying the set have begun to dance a little harder.
The exhibition area is set up with clusters of conversation pits along the perimeter. The option to dance exists but so does, in a quieter but still central section the ability to talk with friends and meet new people. I insert myself in various conversations and get the sense that the main attraction of the event is the people it attracts and the discussion fostered between close friends, old friends and new acquaintances.
While polishing off my 12$ vodka soda, I meet a couple named Change and Anna and ask about their festival experience.
“I loved the projections [at Van Horn]. They were elevated, used the space to its full capacity,” says Chango before mentioning a friend of his was projecting at the Digital Block Party.
“What about the music?” I ask.
“I would have loved to hear a voice,” he replies earnestly, “I can’t quite connect [to the music].” A perfect synthesis of what I had been feeling all night.
Closing on the DJ booth is the highly anticipated Martyn Bootyspoon. Despite the wavering attendees the dance floor comes alive at his emergence. The space suddenly warrants the label of a rave space, people are bouncing and sticking together with sweat. Bootyspoon embodies the energy that was previously denied, more people have streamed in and the atmosphere is completely transformed.
My husband and I end the night on the dance floor.
Overall
The Digital Block Party suffered from a lack of a clear target audience or sufficient quantities of projection pieces. The real party was at the Closing festival, especially the tail end, where friends gathered to dance and talk while immersed in a display of art and music. What the MAPP festival could benefit from is more artists exhibiting at their events. Montreal artists, I implore you to support exhibits by applying to them! Especially organizations like MAPP which provide plenty of free events and encourage community connections.