Sonali Menezes
Hopping the Fence Podcast Transcript - #2, Sonali Menezes
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RC: Hello, I’m Rebecca Casalino, and this is Hopping the Fence, a podcast dedicated to talk to artists on the fringes on the Canadian art scene. Sonali Menezes is an interdisciplinary artist based in Hamilton, ON. She holds an Honours BA in Studio Art from the University of Guelph and is the youngest of triplets.
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Sonali’s work uses performance, video, zines, sculpture, printmaking, poetry and sometimes-exorbitant amounts of Manwich tomato sauce. Her work reflects her resistance to the histories of colonialism and racialization within which she is interwoven.
Our conversation was recorded in Tkaranto, on the traditional territories of the Haudenosaunee, Huron-Wendat, Anishinaabe, and Mississaugas of the New Credit First Nations.
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RC: Well, hello Sonali.
SM: Hey Rebecca!
RC: I’m good, in lockdown but good. Where are you right now?
SM: I’m at my parents’ place, sort of on the border of North York and Scarborough. But otherwise, I’m usually in Hamilton. But I’ve decided to quarantine here for a bit.
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RC: And you see that going to the fall? What does your next couple months look like?
SM: I have absolutely no idea. But I've been really enjoying my time with my family, and it's nice to sort of live in a little bit of a community sense, as opposed to living my young professional life or whatever in my apartment by myself so, [laughs].
RC: It's like more of a sense of stability when you have a family unit to cook and live with?
SM: Yes, and to cook for! That's true, I've been really enjoying cooking. Cooking and baking.
RC: It's so nice. Cooking for other people makes it so much more special.
SM: It really does. It's really making me re-evaluate my lifestyle a little bit. To sort of be like, why am I not eating with people more? Why am I not cooking for people more? Why am I so busy that I eat frozen pizzas all the time? [Both laugh].
RC: Capitalism.
SM: Yeah, just thinking about capitalism.
RC: Do you want to describe your practice a bit for anybody that hasn't seen your work before?
SM: Sure. It's so funny when I talk about my practice... I do so many different things that sort of get put into two different streams, and I'm trying to sort of reconcile these two streams, because I don't really know what to make of them or why they're separate, or if I should keep them separate, or if I should merge them, I don't know. So I would say I've got one stream of our making that is performative, it involves video and my body, it involves some sculpture and is, I would say very personal, generally to my body and my life experience and my sexuality. And then I have another stream, which is sort of this project I started in 2015, which was essentially a money-making project to me pay for my cat's insulin [both laugh] when she got diabetes, and so that is resin jewelry and prints and zines, patches, tote bags. So I sort of have this one stream of stuff that I sell to make money, and then this other stream of art-making that is more for me, that and on the second one I don't really make any money on at all.
RC: Do you see them collide aesthetically? Because you use glitter throughout your practice, a lot of food and hardcore feminist theory...
SM: Yeah, I don't know, I think…definitely the feminist themes in the glitter come through out. I've been contemplating bringing my zines and some of my prints over to the other side of my art practice, I’m not considering it just a thing that I do at zine fairs or markets.
RC: Mhm.
SM: And I've been considering eliminating the jewelry and the tote bags and the patches part, but it's also a lot of fun to make.
RC: Mhm. Do you think that you could see the jewelry and the tote bags and stuff as art objects, or they just don't exist so much in that world for you?
SM: I think they could... Like I think I could see them as art objects. I don't know if they've been received as art objects if that makes sense. They keep being received more as sort of Etsy products.
RC: Do you think that's the display? So it being on an Etsy page versus on a gallery page for sale, you know?
SM: Yeah potentially. There's an artist-run centre I'm a member at that I also used to work at, and I started selling magazines in the front shop area, which was funny because they actually kept getting swiped from the shop area...people kept on shoplifting them, which I want to take as a compliment, I want to be like, "Sure, that's great," but also they cost money to print...
RC: Yeah!
SM: But I think that was sort of me trying to think about my zines and sort of a gallery setting. But yeah, I don't know.
RC: How does your work look within an institution versus outside of an institution?
SM: The sort of weird art that I make that is performative or video, I think really needs a gallery space to be seen. I don't know how it exists outside of a gallery really, and so I think the intention is for it to be in a gallery and to be displayed in a gallery or some sort of art space. But then my other work, because they're objects, they can be sort of held and crinkled and folded and what have you. They can sort of exist anywhere.
RC: I was just wondering how you think of it, your own art project and how you're looking at the objects, but it's interesting how you're talking about how people receive it, because I think that's where I get really confused because I can never predict how people are going to receive an object.
SM: I don't have this desire per se for those pieces to be perceived as like art objects. I'm happy when they find a home and when people like them.
RC: Yeah.
SM: And it doesn't really matter if people are artists who are appreciating them as art, or just people who like the objects and want to have them. Yeah, and right now all of those sort of objects I sell under the banner of Glittering Magpie, which is sort of like by little business distro. And right now all of the sales from Glittering Magpie are actually going to Kapit-Bisig, which is a mutual aid support group being run for Filipino migrant workers by a number of different organizations in Canada. And I just been thinking about using Glittering magpie, seeing as how I do have work that generates income for me, I don't need to also be running a little business, and to have that work just generating funds for various organizations potentially moving forward.
RC: I feel like a lot of zines do that, like their proceeds go to towards different community organizations.
SM: Mhm.
RC: Do you think that's where you find the value, in contributing your work to the community and having your work in people's homes, or did you come at it from the more economic standpoint?
SM: There have been times where I have really, really, relied on that income pretty heavily. So when I was in school, a market might generate maybe for me $500-$700, and I needed that money for rent [laughs], you know? And I needed that money to pay for my cat's insulin. And so I really needed that money, and I was really making things to make money. And after I left school, I didn't have work again and I really needed that money to do groceries and buy my prescriptions. But then once I found full-time work, I let Glittering Magpie fall to the wayside a little bit and I stopped doing as many markets and I just sort of had my Etsy running. I think that's where I really started finding joy just in people connecting with the things I was making. Yeah, so I think it just morphed a little bit. I think my favourite connections are with people who have read my zines. Like I'll get the occasional Instagram message from someone in the states being like, "Oh, your zine was in the zine library at my university, and I saw your Instagram handle and I had to reach out to you to tell you how much I liked your zine." And like, I had no idea that my zine was in this zine library in the states somewhere at this university. That was so exciting!
RC: Yeah.
SM: Yeah, so I like those sorts of connections I think. And I'm meeting people at zine fairs who are like, "I have all your zines! And I've been following your zine since you've been making them." And, "Every time you have a new zine, I get a new one." That makes me feel really good.
RC: That's so lovely. Do you find that the zine community in Hamilton, Guelph, Toronto, that is a very stable community for you in terms of making those connections and people following your practice and that kind of care?
SM: I think so for sure. I definitely think so. The zine community is so unique. I used to joke that going to a zine fair is like seeing everyone that you’ve talked to on a dating app who’s message you never responded to. But we obviously had something major in common, and that was zines. So yeah.
RC: Do you find that kind of community, you can create that in the more fine art world? Or it’s a different kind of community there.
SM: I think my sense of community really comes from the DIY art-making experience, and I can't really say that I've forayed far enough into the fine art world to say that I feel I have a strong community in that yet at least, but maybe I'm just so committed DIY art making and zines and sort of indie stuff that that's where I find my community.
RC: Mhm. How did you find being in a fine arts school context then? Or is that how you found the DIY community?
SM: I mean, school is so unique because you already have an instant community, because everyone is sort of taking the same courses and striving towards the same goals. You're either all supporting each other or competing with each other and trying to cut each other down. I'd like to think that the case at Guelph at least was the first and that we were all supporting each other [both laugh]. But, yeah, I think I found some of the DIY stuff outside of that and existing outside of institutions, and really coming from markets and fairs.
RC: Was your first market the Guelph Night Market?
SM: No, my first market was actually the Hamilton Feminist Zine Fair. I haven't been doing it for that long. That was in 2014, so six years ago. And so I was really sad with the pandemic the zine fair was cancelled this year, because I really like that zine Fair.
RC: Do you see digital versions of zine fairs popping up, or they've just been flat-out cancelled?
SM: I've seen a couple on Instagram I think. The New York City Feminist Zine Fair, they're doing some sort of online fair. I have seen a couple other art book fairs that have popped up sort of online. But of course, it's not the same. The nature of zines is very physical, right? And being able to pick things up and flip through them and put them down and get your fingerprints on them. And so yeah, I don't know, definitely during this time a lot of people will be leaning towards digitizing their work. I have, I've digitized a couple of my zines and made them available as digital zines for the first time, which was something that previously I felt very differently about. Yeah, but for me the joy of zines is very physical. Yeah, I don't know.
RC: No, for me too. I think also the way that people set up their tables, and seeing people decked out in all their gear... Button makers usually have a vest on covered in their buttons. For me that's so important, seeing the artists or seeing whoever, their friend, tabling for them, it's so nice.
SM: It is really so nice. And I miss that... I'm trying to think about when will we be able to do that again? How long will this period last, and when will we be able to gather in large groups and like hundreds of people together again? I don't know. I think also there's a possibility, and this is probably happening I'm just not aware of it... of zines sort of returning back to their roots in the mail. I'm hoping, I don't know, but I'm hoping people are sort of returning to that and mailing out their zines or doing trades of zines through the mail.
RC: That's how I've always done it, through the mail. Also, Canada's so big. If you want to trade with someone from the prairies, you have to mail it to them, [laughs].
SM: It's true. Which is I think why I enjoy having my zines on Etsy. I have a zine that I need to mail out to London, like London, England, today, and that's exciting. When I get to mail a zine to another country, I think that's the most exciting.
RC: Where's the farthest you've mailed a zine?
SM: I'm really bad with distances. I actually mail to the UK quite often. My biggest sales are of course to Canada and the US. I actually sell to the US more than I do within Canada.
RC: Weird.
SM: I don't know why. I've also mailed stuff to Switzerland, Germany, Mexico... A few other countries.
RC: I love how far your zines have gone, that reach.
SM: Yeah, me too! It is really exciting. I think that that's very rewarding for me, to just share my work. And the nature of zines is that I just want to share the content in my zines, I'm not really trying to make money off of my zines. I'm just trying to really recuperate my printing cost and the cost of mailing.
RC: Yeah. I think that's clear in your subject matter. I'm thinking of So You're Anxious As Fuck, that's such a tool kit for people.
SM: Mhm. So that zine I actually digitized at the beginning of quarantine, and I wanted to make it available for free, but Etsy doesn't set up anything for free. I have it for sale for $0.30. I've sold I think 88 copies.
RC: Wow.
SM: I've had a lot of feedback from people who are like, "Thank so you much for this. Or "I really needed this." so that zine is a self-help zine, and so I've just been happy to share that. And that's actually the zine that kept on getting stolen from this artist-run centre, [both laugh]. But I was like, okay, I guess people are just too anxious to buy it I guess, [both laugh].
RC: I'd be too anxious to steal it!
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RC: This week’s podcast recommendation explored queer history outside of Ontario. Hosts Falen Johnson and Leah-Simone Bowen from The Secret Life of Canada tell the story of the Golden Boy statue in Winnipeg. Check out season 2, episode 13 from The Secret Life of Canada, wherever you get your podcasts.
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RC: Does that lead into the new writing practice that you're doing?
SM: I think so, potentially. It's interesting, because when I was in high school, actually did a lot of writing. And I was sort of toying between idea of going to school for creative writing or going to school for fine art.
RC: Mhm.
SM: And I took a year off after high school to sort of consider that and figure out where I wanted to go. And then I chose the fine art. So I think just during this time I've just been reading more than I have otherwise, and it's just given me a desire to return to writing a little bit, and just to explore that and see what's possible.
RC: Mhm.
SM: So I've been writing some poetry. And I've started my very first short story since high school, and I'm writing that out. It was actually a story for my childhood that I was trying to incorporate into a poem. And then the poem didn't give the story justice, so I decided just to start formulating it into a short story. So we'll see where that goes. I would like to submit it to something, and then potentially make it into a zine, I don't know.
RC: Mhm. And what's the process being like for writing? How is it different than your usual making process?
SM: Well it's different in that I'm sitting at a computer.
RC: Mhm.
SM: And so it feels a little bit different than being in a studio making a print. But then again, when I made video, 80% of the video making is in the post-production on the computer anyway. So a fair bit of it is that the computer. But, I think the writing...I can make other art in the company of other people, but when I'm writing, I need to be totally alone. Like I don't even want anyone to look at me, [both laugh]. I have to close my bedroom door and be like, "No one look at me, no one talk to me." so I think that is the difference.
RC: I think that you isolating yourself even more during isolation to do the solitary act of writing is kind of poetic, [both laugh]. Do you think it is because you're not also going to art galleries and consuming zines, and we're all on the internet reading everything and consuming a lot more written material... do you think that was the switch for you, or it was very much having quarantine and having more time to read books? [Laughs].
SM: Yeah. I think it's also... I had decided in January, I made a commitment to myself to take my job less seriously and take my art more seriously. And so I started applying for things, and I started working more on my art intentionally. And I think a part of that was I wanted to commit to writing as well. And I want to be less embarrassed about sharing my poetry and feel more open about sharing it. I also do want to try and find ways to incorporate it into my print practice, my printmaking practice.
RC: Do you see yourself illustrating it, or more so once you get into the studio you can start understanding how that would look?
SM: I think I actually want to just like experiment with just printing the poems on different materials and then also finding ways to incorporate that into a gallery setting as like vinyl text.
RC: Yeah. So when you're brainstorming, you do see your work existing in a gallery, if you're thinking about pieces?
SM: Yeah, it is true, I do.
RC: Do you think it's a different mindset, like you have to consider it for the white cube versus making something that's going to be presented on a table?
SM: Mmm. I think about it in maybe both contexts. I think about it existing as a print, or existing as a print in a zine, but then I also think about it existing as maybe a vinyl text in a gallery.
RC: Maybe that's like a conceptual brain, you picture it in like four different mediums? [Both laugh].
SM: That's the struggle I guess of being maybe what we would call an interdisciplinary artist, you always have to choose your discipline kind of. You know, where should this exist? How should this exist? How should I make it come into being? And then also trying to find a justification for that choice, like why did you choose it at this time? And why isn't it existing somewhere else as something else?
RC: Yeah. And that gets into what you feel your role as an artist is.
SM: Yeah, so just thinking about at this really critical time, we were looking at police brutality, Black liberation, anti-racism, Indigenous sovereignty... yeah. And then also in the middle of a pandemic, how are we going to emerge from this and what will society look like? And what is the role of the artist in this? We see what the role of the artist is under capitalism, but what would the role of the artist be in another system potentially that is not capitalism?
RC: Mhm.
SM: And then also, are we making art for personal gain, for private profit? Or are we making art for our community? Could we make art to support social movements? Which I feel is so hard, because I think in the art world... And I think you would I have maybe spoken about this. A lot of my work has been political. And I struggled with that a lot when I was in university because I don't feel like it was very well accepted by the faculty at least. I had a faculty member who asked me to stop making political work. And she said that politics were explored in art in the 60s, and have, her words, "Since been resolved."
RC: [Laughs].
SM: And I was like, "What? Politics have been resolved? We now live in an apolitical world since the 60s?”
RC: Maybe she lives in an apolitical world.
SM: And I was so confused. I continued making political work and she wasn't very pleased with me and didn't give me good grades. But I think there's that struggle between, okay, are you an artist or are you an activist, or can you be both? Can we activate art?
RC: In some ways I feel like being called to be an artist is in some ways being called to be an activist, but I do see artists serving their community, and I understand that's not a model that everybody subscribes to. But in this moment, I don't know how you can be an artist and not be making work for your community.
SM: I know that there are some people who are treating this time almost like a residency, and some people are being very productive and producing a lot of work, but then there are a lot of people who are sort of immobilized like myself and are not necessarily making a ton of work.
RC: Yeah.
SM: And are sort of questioning their role in terms of how am I making art or why am I making art or who am I making art for? Or how can I make art that support something larger than myself at this critical time?
RC: Mhm. I think artists struggling with their health or mental illness in lockdown should never feel the need to turn this into a residency. I think that's such an ableist concept during a pandemic, that you would have the energy and the time and the bandwidth to be making, you know?
SM: Totally. And I think it's so hard because when I meet people or virtually, they're like, "What have you been up to?" and it's like, you need to sort of justify what you've been up to. And it's just like, if you're not baking bread, what are you doing? [Both laugh]. I mean, I am baking bread, but...
RC: I actually stopped making bread for quarantine, 'cause I got mad that people took my thing, [both laugh]. But that's just me being salty for the sake of being salty. Of course, everyone should be making lovely bread for themselves.
SM: I am learning so much about pleasure through bread.
RC: Mmm.
SM: Yeah, it's so much about pleasure through bread. The process of making it, of listening to it crackle while it cools. And also just eating warm carbs and filling your belly with warm carbs is the best feeling ever.
RC: I think that... People that say that they aren't doing anything, I always ask them what they actually did. Because I'm more interested in people like spending four hours trimming their plants because they're bored or learning how to make sourdough. It's these moments of boredom or stress, what you do during times of stress are interesting. And people turn the comfort and pleasure. And for me, that's a form of art in itself, you know?
SM: It's true. Something that I've thought about, mainly probably just after being in unhealthy relationships with cis men, is I'm really hoping that at least the cis, heterosexual men out there are taking this time to learn domestic tasks, you know?
RC: Yes.
SM: And really value cooking or ironing or doing laundry, especially if they've been previously relying on unpaid gendered labour of their partners or their mothers. I have this feeling, like I'm just really putting out this energy in the world that I'm hoping this is what's happening, you know?
RC: What are you hopeful about for the art community after and during all these crises happening?
SM: I'm hopeful that whatever models of care that we're sort of following right now... this understanding that we need each other to survive, I'm hoping that that sort of continues to be fostered in the art world...
RC: Yeah.
SM: And that we continue to support each other. And I think also, I really, really want to see art institutions, galleries, artist-run centres, really evaluate who they're serving and what they're doing, and why they're doing it. And interrogate their whiteness, you know? Like very critically, meaningfully, and figure out what communities their serving. Who are the artists they're supporting and why are they doing that? And for the most part, predominately, why are they all white?
RC: Yeah. Before all of this happened, what was your sense of why those institutions and artist-run centres existed? Because you've worked at a couple of them and been on the inside.
SM: I think I definitely... just like in any workplace I'm ever in, I struggle because I think I'm definitely more left-leaning then the organizations I enter into, [Both laugh]. Like always. And so I always have to reel myself in a fair bit and sort of keep my mouth shut and follow my job description or what I'm being told.
RC: Mhm.
SM: And so that would be the same if I'm in the service industry or if I'm in the cultural sector. It doesn't really change that experience. I would say that that experience didn't change at an artist-run centre.
RC: That makes me so frustrated though because artist spaces are supposed to be spaces for conversation. So like you're being hired to add to that space. So why shouldn't your politics be adding into the conversation you know?
SM: Yeah...I think it's so complicated, right? I think we can definitely look in the artist-run sector and non-profit sector and see how little job security there is.
RC: Mhm.
SM: Especially if you're a young woman like myself, you don't have any job security. Mind you, no one has any job security. Young people have no job security in those settings. And you're really working contract to contract, or you're working a contract without an end date with the understanding that they only have money to pay you for three more months. And so sometimes you need to decide, okay, am I going to open my mouth and be confrontational about this one issue, or am I going to keep my mouth shut and pay rent? [Laughs].
RC: For sure.
SM: You know? It's the sort of dance, trying to figure out what you're going to do.
RC: I find it so saddening, just because I know a lot of those art workers like ourselves are also practicing artists, right? And we do have something to add to the conversation. But I guess it's less valued when you're being paid to be the guest service liaison, they don't want to know about your politics.
SM: And so much of it is also about white comfort, right? White people want to enter into a gallery and feel comfortable. They don't want to feel confronted.
RC: Or challenged.
SM: We're challenged, so if you're presenting challenging work, they might not come back.
RC: Yeah.
SM: That's the communities that most art galleries are serving.
RC: Yeah, I think for me, going into OCAD and starting to work with bigger institutions, proposing too queer of programming is something that can happen, and I didn't realize that was a thing, [laughs]. You have to pander to straight people because straight people are the majority.
SM: Yeah totally.
RC: It's odd to think about the art world as pandering to straight white people, but the longer I hang out in it the more that seems to be the pattern.
SM: It really is. I think I'm just hoping that through this, institutions look more critically at themselves and they're functioning and who they're serving. And I hope that as arts communities, we can hold these institutions accountable and say, "Hey, look at all of us who are being excluded," and, "You're not serving us."
RC: Yeah. Maybe this is the beginning of that conversation.
SM: Yeah. My big fear is that we're going to exit this pandemic, at whatever point social distancing measures are lifted, or there's a vaccine, and I'm really afraid that we're going to enter into a really tight period of austerity, and a lot of funding is going to be cut. And I'm really hoping that doesn't happen or that we mobilize ourselves enough to prevent that from happening.
RC: Yeah. Do you want to talk about your Doug Ford is For Austerity poster? [Both Laugh].
SM: Oh yeah. I have a silkscreen print that just says, "Stop Ford. Fight Austerity." And it's so funny, it just makes me think about memes that have been circulating about Doug Ford. Doug Ford says that he's against defunding the police, but he's for defunding education, defunding all social services, you know? And it's really funny, that contradiction. I really have this desire to get into the print studio and start making prints about this. And maybe that's my function right now and that's sort of how I see my art moving forward is like I want to make political prints.
RC: Yeah. Do you draw from that history of politicized art? 'Cause I feel like the DIY zine scene, it is very much about circulating important information.
SM: It really is. This is what I struggle with a lot. I facilitate a zine club with a friend out of Hamilton. I think when I think about zines, I think politics right away, I look at the political history of zines, the way zines have been mobilized. But a lot of young zinesters right now are not making political work. And so out of all the zine members that we have in our club, no one's really making politicized work. I have this deep desire to really politicize the zine scene more intensely, [Both laugh].
RC: Maybe with the birth of the internet and memes, everything's kind of a lot quicker, and zines you have to sit down and read them. I find don't have as much patience.
SM: Yeah, our attention spans and our patience... At least mine is so much narrower than it used to be. I definitely think endless scrolling has impacted that to some extent for sure. But we're relying so much on sort of really instant, quick educational materials through Instagram or Facebook or Twitter. And I think there's so much great educational work that comes out of social media. But to really complexly understand capitalism or to understand Black liberation, I think that a lot of folks... we do need to do more reading if that's possible. The issue's more complex than a tweet, you know? Or the issue's more complex than a graphic on Instagram. And some of that work is really, really deep to understand. At least for myself, I need to spend more time with educational materials. And I think that there is a place for theory, and there's a lot of hope in theory, and that informs all of the actions that are taking place right now. It makes me really want to find ways to sort of compress Theory into zines, and to make that more readily available.
RC: I like how you're pushing for zines to be more political, I'm on board with that, [both laugh].
SM: Yeah, I don't know. I really wish there was some sort of coalition of political zine makers somewhere that I could connect with.
RC: Do you think that makers have become less political? Like how your prof was saying that was a movement reserved for the 60s?
SM: I think so. I think it's also, at least when I think about artist-run centres, the funding models for them...
RC: Yeah.
SM: ... When you think about how much money will come from the Ontario Arts Council or the Canada Council, you can't come out and publicly denounce Doug Ford for example, because that could jeopardize your funding. And I think it's literally built into our institutions to be depoliticized.
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RC: Thanks for listening to Hopping the Fence, a podcast dedicated to the fringes of the Canadian art scene. If you have an artist that you would like to hear interviewed, would like to correct / fact check a past episode, or would like to chat, feel free to send me a message on Instagram @hoppingthefence, or by email at rebeccaecasalino@gmail.com. Thanks to OCAD University for their financial support, my project supervisor Amish Morrell for his advice and guidance, and Claudia Slogar Rick for all of her extra help. Original artwork for Hopping the Fence by Alex Gregory, original music by Jessica Price Eisner. Thank you so much, bye!
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