Luso Life 011 by LusoLife

Nº 011

winter ‘21

scratching the surface

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saudade [ soh-dah-duh ] noun. (in Portuguese folk culture) a deep emotional state of melancholic longing for a person or thing that is absent.

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You may think Portugal’s Coração de Viana (Heart of Viana) originated as a symbol of love for its namesake—the city of Viana do Castelo but it did not. It was a symbol of dedication and worship of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, representative of the country’s Catholic roots. Over time, the coração has become assosciated with love between two people and can be seen throughout northern Portugal printed on fabrics, embroidered onto lenços dos namorados (lovers’ handkerchief) and made into intricate filigree jewelry.

The views expressed throughout Luso Life belong to the respective authors, and do not necessarily represent the views of the company and team. AD V ERTISE info@lusolife.ca

CREATIV E D IRECT O R

CO NTACT

David Ganhão

lusolife.ca info@lusolife.ca

a r t / d e s i g n D IRECT O R

D ISTRI B UTI O N

Noah Ganhão

If you would like to carry Luso Life, write to info@lusolife.ca

A D V ERTISING D IRECTO R José M. Eustáquio PHOTOS @expandingroots Fin Christoforidis Julia Dantas Isabel Ganhão Noah Ganhão Mike Neal Cov e r

SUB SCRI B E Luso Life is released four times per year. To subscribe, visit lusolife.ca/shop Price: $10 CDN listen Listen to a few of the many tunes that helped us through some long days while we were crafting this issue.

Mike Neal WORDS Inês Carpinteiro Julia Dantas David Ganhão Devin Meireles Fin Christoforidis Noah Ganhão Mike Neal

Published by MDC Media Group Manuel DaCosta, President. Printed in Toronto. ©2021 Luso Life. All rights reserved. All material in this magazine may not be reproduced, transmitted or distributed in any form without the written permission of Luso Life.

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Contents 24

Mari, Mario & caldo verde: A love story

Mais vida More life—the greatest gift.

Delicious.

A history of makeup

Little old wine drinker, me

From ancient Egypt to a 500 billion dollar industry.

From grape to the glass... and everything in between.

[untitled] Thoughts from a notebook.

Scratching the surface Renowned artist Vhils and his Toronto tribute to the 1974 Cleaner’s Action.

50 shades of wrong The ugly truth about beauty pageants .

The list 10 albums from our collection that we think should be in yours.

Salt: a delectable four letter word An afternoon at Salt Wine Bar.

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Portrait Psychic influence? Maybe.

MAIS VIDA

intro: David Ganhão

WORDS: Devin Meireles

PHOTO: isabel ganhão

The thought of our grandparents, parents and eventually us needing extended long-term care or assisted living can be, in a word, depressing. It evokes feelings of our mortality, fear of the illness and visions of slow deterioration. Adding to the anxiety, the media is littered with stories of elderly abuse and neglect at the hands of their caretakers. Tack on a language barrier and the worries are multiplied. Thankfully there are people who have had the same feelings and now are working together to bring something new to Ontario—The Magellan Centre, a caring home for Portuguese-speaking seniors in the heart of Toronto. This long-awaited, future beacon in the community, is currently raising the funds required to build a non-profit community hub, affordable housing residences and a caring home for seniors where Portuguese-Canadian families can be assured their loved ones will live with dignity and respect. To coincide with Magellan Community Foundation’s “GIVE BACK - IT’S OUR TURN” Holiday Campaign, which is proudly supported by Luso Life, we reached out to freelance writer Devin Meireles to give us his take on placing his grandmother in an assisted living facility. To donate or to read more about the Magellan Centre, visit magellancommunityfoundation.com.

“Eu quero ir para casa [I want to go home],” avó said. She was befuddled at her new surroundings, laying there feebly as the group of us huddled around the bed. How did this happen all of a sudden? I thought to myself—just last month she tried to make me some beef croquettes before spilling the hot oil on the countertop. My aunt swooped in for the save to finish what she started but I thought nothing of it. Accidents happen. Thank god there was no fire! She was getting old at that time, and it was really starting to show. However she had been living on her own ever since Vovô passed away. I had always known her to be self-sufficient and capable until that moment at the hospital. Things would never be the same. They told us that she suffered a minor stroke. The doctors wouldn’t discharge her without a home care plan. Somebody needed to look after her from there on out. Otherwise, if nobody could take that

on, they advised that the best course was to find her a long-term care home. The thought of it never occurred to anybody in the family, supposing that she would live forever. It was a difficult conversation to be had. Nor did she ever make advanced care planning arrangements. Alas, the group faced some tough decisions while grandma was deteriorating. She was increasingly senile as the days went on. I realized her condition was around the bend when I paid a visit after school one day. “Quem é você? [Who are you?]” She asked me. “Avó, it’s me, seu neto. [your grandson]” “Leva-me pra casa. [Take me home]” Looking at me as if I was a stranger, she repeated herself like a broken record. That’s what she told everyone, but when I suggested that we have some sweet bread for Easter she dismissed the

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idea in favour of the apple sauce at the hospital. Swiftly forgetting what she just asked for. She knew that home was no longer an option but it wouldn’t be long before she brought it up again. She was completely dependent on the hospital staff. The Portuguese housekeeper was a huge relief translating for the nurses. My aunt and uncles helped as much as they could while my father visited every day. I often tagged along and my mother stayed home with my younger siblings. There were times that recovery looked promising but then the next day could go back to square one. It was clear that she wasn’t going to be back on her feet. With the help of the social worker, they guided the family through the decision-making process. All affairs were arranged with careful consideration. The Spiritual Care Department at the hospital was very compassionate and caring, offering counsel every step of the way. They assisted in finding a good home that was central and accessible in the city.

Luckily, there was no waitlist and Avó was transferred within the week. Her welcome to the residence was exceptional. The caregivers assigned to her unit made an impression in a short time. They were patient-centered and very understanding. She warmed up to them, albeit asking to go home frequently. “Eu quero ir para casa. [I want to go home]”” Those words had become a catchphrase of sorts. I pictured her busting out of there like a scene from ‘Prison Break’ but in her weakened state that was impossible. The staff learned some Portuguese along the way as they looked after her with some first-class attention. Never once did they taunt her or get frustrated. They were always empathetic. “I know, Senhora, you’re not home but this place is nice too!” the staff member said. Avó was unresistant to their wardship. They took great care of her, preserving

her dignity with tact. Their support was truly remarkable. So much so, that her condition got a little better over the following months. Her cognition improved and she no longer questioned who I was when visiting, even conversing with me about the good times. It was nice to recognize some of the old aspects of herself. She was in good spirits and seemed to enjoy it there. For the family, it was godsend to have that tender loving care. Otherwise, I doubt that she could have lived another decade like she did. With all the affairs in order, her last years retained a good quality of life. It couldn’t get any better. We had peace of mind and were able to focus on creating new memories. The residence became an extension of the family. We gathered for milestones and celebrations just like before. She didn’t miss a thing. One year, she was doing well enough to get a day pass and actually spend Christmas at our house. I’ll never forget it. In the company of her loved ones and the

familiar taste of sonhos and caranguejo [crab], we marked the holiday like no other. The joy in her eyes lit up as we sang along to carols while visuals of ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ played on the television. She didn’t ask to go home that evening. She was right where she needed to be. All of us were happy to be with her. I gave her a big hug and sat by her side for dinner. Having her at the table was one of those moments that will forever live in my heart. A part of me couldn’t believe it, as if I was next to an apparition, but it was undeniably real. Photos on my cell phone are proof. Sometimes I reminisce in the photo album to appreciate how lucky we were. That could not have been possible without the help of our extended family—the long-term care home. Their infallible work was the greatest gift, mais vida [more life]. Of all the angels within our inner circle, their staff were the most heavenly and I will always respect what they had done for us. LUSO LIFE

WORDS: David Ganhão

recipe: Mari Silveria

PHOTOS: mike neal

avó mari

Mari, Mario & caldo verde: A love story T wentyish years ago, Mari was living in Brazil. Mario was born in Northern Portugal and was living in Canada. Mari loves to cook. Mario loves great food and great wine. Mari and Mario met, dated and fell in love. Mario proposed. Mari accepted, packed and went to the airport. Mari thought about what Portuguese meals she would cook in their new home. Mari realized she didn’t know any Portuguese recipes. Mari went into the bookstore. Mari found a cookbook and flipped to page one—Caldo Verde. Mari smiled and boarded the plane.

Why was it the first recipe in the book? Because it’s simple goodness. From the first time potatoes and couves (similar to collard greens) collided to make Portugal’s “green soup,” it has made countless appearances on Portuguese (and non) tables around the world. A favourite of my wife, it was originally slotted to be the opening dish at our wedding but we were persuaded to remove it from the menu due to concerns that our guests would spend the evening picking bits of greens from their teeth—fair point. 24

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This soup is unofficially Portugal’s national dish… and so famous that Amália Rodrigues, the queen of fado, sang about it in the county’s unofficial anthem, “Uma Casa Portuguesa,” that’s top honours in my books. Its origins, like Mario’s can be traced to the rural homes of Northern Portugal where people needed something hearty yet inexpensive to eat. The base is made with four simple ingredients— water, potatoes, onions and greens. Ladle into bowls, add a few rounds of chouriço to spice things up, sliced corn bread on the side, and you are ready to indulge in some of the finest comfort food you will ever taste. Simple. Naturally, a dish this popular is served in restaurants and cafés all around the world [my wedding notwithstanding] but we all know that avós make the best Caldo Verde—fact. Avó Mari didn’t let us down. As she made her Caldo Verde, I could see the recipe from the cookbook had been tweaked. It had evolved. “I add a few dashes of cayenne, Mario and I like a little spice… We’re using pre-packaged greens today, but in the summer we use couves from our garden—Mario loves the garden.” I saw a pattern.

Before we knew it, Mari was adding her finishing touches and the caldo was ready to be served—it smelled delicious. We heard the front door open— it was Mario getting home from work. Timing. They greeted each other with a kiss and before sitting down, Mario said, “This caldo deserves a great wine. I’ll get a bottle of Cartuxa from the adega [wine cellar].” Mari was one step ahead of him—the bottle was already on the table waiting to be poured. We ate, drank and chatted until her phone rang. She had to take the call, it was her son Henrique who was on vacation with his wife in Hawaii. “Bianca is pregnant! It’s their last vacation before they become parents!” Mari was happy. Mario smiled. That was our cue to leave. This was of course, an oversimplified retelling of Mari and Mario’s courtship, but like our simple soup, their love is full of spice and passion. A toast to love.

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Basta pouco, poucochinho pra alegrar (Just a little is enough to make you happy)

Uma existéncia singela (A simple existence)

É só amor, pão e vinho (It’s all love, bread and wine)

E um caldo verde, (And a green caldo verde)

verdinho a fumegar na tijela (Steaming in the bowl)

music: artur fonseca words: reinaldo ferreira & vasco matos sequeira voice: amália rodrigues

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serves 6

Caldo verde 2 lbs russet potatoes, peeled and roughly chopped

Cut the collard greens into thin strips.1 Reserve.

5 cloves of garlic, minced

In a heavy bottomed pot, add the potatoes 2, onion, garlic, water and bay leaf. Bring to a boil over high heat and then lower the heat to medium low and cook until the potatoes are tender and ready to be mashed (about 20 min).

8 cups cold water

Mash the potatoes and bring them back to the pot.

1 bay leaf

Using an immersion blender, purée the soup until smooth.

5 tbsp olive oil

Add the greens, stir and simmer for 2 to 5 minutes, until tender.

1 bunch collard greens, thoroughly washed

Season with salt and pepper.

1 onion, peeled and quartered

1 lbs sausage (choriço) thinly sliced cayenne pepper (optional) salt and pepper to taste

traditional tip 1: stack three leaves at a time, roll them like cigars & cut crosswise into very thin strips. 2

traditional tip 2: add more potatoes if you like your soup creamier. 30

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Add a few dashes of cayenne (if you want to add some spice). Add the sliced sausage to the soup. Top the soup with olive oil.

WORDS & photos: julia dantas

BEAUTY BY JULIA

A history of makeup Julia here - it’s crazy to think I’ve now been in the beauty industry for over 6 years. But let me take you back to the beginning. While I studied makeup in school, we learned the history of the cosmetics industry which gave me a newfound perspective and love for the craft. Makeup is ever-changing; from new trends, seasonal makeup, theatrical looks, and even festive creations for the holidays. But today, we are going to strip that way back, and talk about the history of makeup, because it’s pretty fascinating after all, and maybe like me, it will give you a newfound appreciation for the beauty industry. The Cosmetic industry is worth over $500 Billion - wowzers! If there was ever a time to work in this industry, it’s now! But, the industry as we know it today did not come to light until after WW2, which at time, the USA was the largest cosmetic producer in the world. Throughout history, makeup has been an ever-changing element in why, how, and when it was used. Each period in time has had its own unique take on what has led us to what we know today. Before modern makeup, women, and even men, used a variety of items in lieu of makeup such as coal, soot, chalk, lead, and Henna - they got creative with whatever they had available. Fun Fact: The earliest record of makeup used dates back to the First Dynasty of Egypt (c.3100-2907 BC). They believed wearing coal around their eyes would protect their souls and ward off any evil. As time went on, the uses and meaning behind makeup evolved. During 32

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the Middle Ages, pale skin was a sign of wealth and pink makeup was worn by prostitutes. Although, later on, pink makeup was a sign of money as it meant you could afford artificial makeup. During the reign of Queen Elizabeth, women used to wear egg whites all over their faces to give the illusion of “glass skin”. By the 18 th century, makeup was changing. Many of the ingredients used in makeup and other cosmetics were lethal and caused immense damage to anyone who wore them. White lead and mercury were the main culprits in these products. They were used to keep the skin looking pale to show status as tan-skinned meant you were poor and worked outside. Most women however, did not care and continued to use the lighteners to maintain their status and “beauty”. During this time makeup was not being produced by large companies in factories but rather by pharmacists. By the late 1800s, makeup began to be frowned upon and was reserved solely for prostitutes and actresses. Eventually, makeup began to make a comeback but, only natural tones, anything more was distasteful. By the early 1900s, women started making their own ‘mascara’ by using Petroleum Jelly on their lashes. This led to the first modern mascara created by what is now known as Maybelline - still one of my favorite drugstore brands. In the following years, more “traditional” makeup started to come about such as compacts and tubes of lipstick. Permanent beauty started to become a trend with getting lipstick tattooed. In the 1920s red lipstick became a symbol

of empowerment to free women and was worn at women’s rights movements. Elizabeth Arden even contributed by handing out lipsticks at rallies! Makeup became more common again and by the end of the ’20s, lipgloss was created. Throughout the rest of the 1900s, as more products were produced, each decade started to have its own signature makeup look. Audrey Hepburn’s cat-eye from the ’60s, heavy eyeliner from the ’70s, and bright colours from the ’80s and ’90s. Into the 2000’s we have adapted and evolved these now-classic looks and forged them to the makeup we know today. Women now have access to hundreds of brands, products, and colours to choose from. The cosmetics industry is one of the fastest-growing in the world with continuous expansion and exploration of different opportunities. It’s interesting how society determines your worth by the products you wear on your face. In the 1800s wearing makeup was frowned upon. Then in the 1920s, Elizabeth Arden was empowering women to wear red lipstick. I think this proves that you can’t mold into what society tells you is right or wrong, because something or someone will always have something to say. If you love the power of makeup, then do what makes you happy. Because after all, it’s a magical creation of art. @juliadantasbeauty

WORDS: David Ganhão

PHOTOS: Noah Ganhão

have never tasted a glass of homemade wine that was great... I have also never tasted a glass of homemade wine that wasn’t great… at least in the eyes of the winemaker.

I’m not saying homemade wine is bad—I’ve fortunately only tasted a few of those and that’s when the “I may have to drive later” excuse comes into play. Many of the wines I’ve tasted are actually quite good—take this from someone who’s consumed a fair amount of κρασί, vino and vinho. A few decades ago, almost every Greek, Italian and Portuguese family made wine. Come September, it was common to see freshly cleaned wooden barrels drying in front of the garage, stacks of crates filled with grapes and a rise in the neighbourhood wasp population. 36

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It was a family affair. With the never-ending list of after-school activities today’s kids have to endure, they wouldn’t have free time to help make wine, but back in the day, juggling hockey, piano lessons or homework for that matter, wasn’t an issue. We were ready to help, and happily accepted our payment in the form of all the grapes we could eat. Unfortunately, all good things come at a price, and that came in the form of quite a few extra trips to the washroom the next day. It was normal to help our fathers and uncles make wine… it was also normal for us to help drink it. I mean, we weren’t guzzling glasses of wine every night but a few drops of wine into our glass of Tang or ginger-ale was quite common. Funny, I don’t remember ever seeing a glass of water on the dinner table. Homemade wine paired well with meat, fish, chicken, nuts… meals really… any meal. Granted the variety was limited— you’d be hard pressed to find a Merlot, Pinot Noir or Cab. Homemade wine came in just two flavours—red or white… and white was usually reserved for cooking or to make the occasional pitcher of champarrião (a spritzer/shandy combo made with wine, beer, 7-Up and sugar—hope you’re not counting calories). Wine was medicinal—apparently a glass of wine mixed with honey could cure the flu (this may not be proven). It was rustic tasting, and usually [too] strong. It was also pure, containing one simple ingredient—no chemicals, yeast or sulfite just grapes. Over the years it seems making homemade wine has become a lost art. Why would one waste so much time just to save a few dollars when a bottle of “better tasting” wine can be picked up on our way home from the grocery store? Truth is, although it is more cost effective to make wine at home, that wasn’t the only reason—it seemed to be more about pride. The wine drinking ritual was a pretty standard practice: guests would come over, a bottle of wine was put on the table, and the bragging would begin. This was usually followed by the taste-test and a counter-invitation made by the guest, something like, “this is good, but you need to try my wine.” 38

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In the 21st century, many people have put away the press and turned to buying pails of juice to fill their barrels. Although this process is less labour intensive and ultimately produces the same product, for those of us who are nostalgic, it’s missing the connection to our past. Naturally, there are critics of this method. Some “experts” claim it’s poorer quality and that they can tell the difference between the two… this, of course is hooey. Trust me, I’ve seen it with my own eyes. I witnessed the same person tricked on two different occasions. The first time this gentleman was visiting a friend and said the wine was quite good considering it was made from juice— he was wrong. A year later, the same man was having dinner at the same friend’s house and praised the wine… because it was made from grapes—wrong again, this year’s batch was made from juice. Wine rant: To the know-it-all-wine-connoisseurs out there, most people cannot tell the difference between a $15 bottle and a $50 bottle—in fact, most experts can’t even tell the difference (in blind taste tests, they rate the same wines differently). If you think you can, good for you, but I say hooey… again. Making wine seems like it could be something quite complex. A search of the inter-webs will turn up thousands of recipes, videos and theories on how to make your own home brew— everything from one-hour wine made using fruit juice from your local grocery store, to complex sets of instructions using sulfites, stabilizing additives, enzymes, yeasts and acid control additives. It doesn’t need to be that complex. Wine is a living, breathing organism—it doesn’t need a chemist, it needs a babysitter.

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The old-school recipe for making wine that I’ve seen used by (basically) everyone is quite simple. The only difference being the winemaker’s choice of grapes: clean: Equipment must spotless—sanitation is key crush: Traditionally done by stomping on the grapes, most people find a hand crank crusher to be a convenient option. Make sure to leave the skins and stems—this is natures wild yeast. primary fermentation: Let the must ferment for a few days until a cap of grape skins rises.

press: All those remaining skins contain lots of juice, so press them, collect the juice and add this to the barrel. (Some people make moonshine like aguardente or grappa by distilling the fermented grape skins… but that’s a story for another issue!) secondary fermentation: Cap the barrel with a water filled air lock to let the gas escape without letting outside air enter. The wine will bubble and burp for a month or so. racking: Syphon the wine to a new barrel leaving the sediment behind. rack again: Do this after 2 months.

stir: Push the cap down and stir the wine a couple of times a day for the next two or three days.

bottle: Do this around Easter.

fill: Start filling you barrel or demijohn with the fermented juice.

drink and enjoy: You’re now ready to transform grapes into a homemade wine that is [hopefully] great. LUSO LIFE

WORDS & photos: Fin Christoforidis

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the speed of light aint as fast as you

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it’s a bit of a walk so we better get going

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WORDS & ILLUSTRATION: David Ganhão

PHOTOS: @expandingroots

SCRATCHING THE SURFACE

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When I heard that renowned artist Vhils—born Alexandre Farto [Lisbon, 1987]–was scheduled to chisel a mural into a Toronto wall, I immediately went into fanboy mode. I’ve admired his work for a very long time—this was not only an opportunity to see one of his murals up close, but also to possibly speak with the man himself, although I had heard he didn’t like interviews and was not easily accessible. ➞ I was told his crew would be working on the mural from Thursday to Saturday—the artist was arriving in Toronto on Sunday and would be on-site Monday and Tuesday to finish the piece. So, I did what any fanboy would do... on Thursday night I bought a coffee, drove to 1628 Dundas Street West, and got a front row seat to watch the process. Stop and repeat until the mural was done. ➞ Many words come to mind when the name Vhils is mentioned—humanist, genuine, unique, poetic, passionate, complex, layered even destructive. Renowned for his bas-relief portraits which often portray ordinary, elder people—the possessors of wisdom— Vhils creates his murals by subtracting rather than adding more paint to walls. Like a modern-day archeologist, he uses hammers, electric chisels and explosives to chip through layers of plaster, paint and dirt, exposing the history beneath to create something new and relevant to the community, and the results are breathtaking. ➞ When I showed up on Monday afternoon (day five), the artist had arrived and had been working all day—most of the mural was complete. I watched Vhils chip at the wall, back away from the piece to see what needed to be tweaked and return to the wall to make his adjustments. I decided to use our common connection to break the ice and during a break, I made my approach. ➞ I had found two connections. The first was shop talk—we had both worked on projects with U2 in 2014. I helped design their Innocence + Experience VIP tour book—shout-out to James Bailey who taught me (mostly) everything that I know about design; VHILS created an “explosive” art film for “Raised by Wolves” as part of the Films of Innocence project. ➞ The second was cultural—my first introduction to street art also occurred in Portugal, and more specifically, from the walls of post-Salazar Portugal. In 1978, almost a decade before Alexandre was born, I touched down in Lisbon, chaperoned by my grandmother, my uncle Tony and his young family. The taxi driver piled three more adults, three children and our luggage into his cab—one of the iconic black and mint green Mercedes—and drove the 500 or so kilometres north through the winding roads of the N109, only stopping for fuel and to let my cousin Jacquie and I take turns throwing up—probably caused by the movement of the car and the bizarre smell of diesel which our North American noses weren’t used to. ➞ After seven hours of driving, we arrived in Arcos de Valdevez, the tiny town in Minho which is home to my mother’s family. It was still dark—maybe four in the morning. Our driver pulled over, refusing to take the final 11-kilometre trek up the mountain to my grandmother’s house, claiming the poor quality of the roads would damage his cab—he wasn’t wrong. The only shop that had its lights on was a bakery, and the owner, who seemed to know my grandmother, greeted us with a smile and allowed us to store our luggage on the flour covered floor for a couple of hours while we waited for the town to wake up, at which point we could pick up some groceries and hire another cab to take us the rest of the way. ➞ As my grandmother chatted with the bakery owner, I stood outside, in the dark, looking around and watching the sun to rise. As dusk turned to dawn, the old retaining wall in front of me was illuminated and I could see that this massive wall had been used as a canvas—the communist logo (hammer and sickle); 25 de abril (the date of the country’s peaceful Carnation Revolution which marked the end of the dictatorship); and various leftist political slogans were painted in red and black all over the concrete wall. ➞ Nine-year-old me stood there for what seemed like hours, staring at the wall and watching people walk by. It was unlike anything that I had seen growing up in the suburbs of Toronto, so I asked my grandmother what this was all about. With a hint of disgust in her voice, she simply answered, “os comunistas.” They were responsible for this and, in her defence, she never went to school and didn’t follow politics. Her political opinions were probably a regurgitation of the opinions she soaked in from her handful of neighbours. I was too young to understand or care, for that matter—I saw art. Looking back, I assume that was the spark which led me to doodle slogans and band logos all over every binder I ever owned. ➞ Over the years there was a cleanup of Portugal and these walls that had been littered with leftist slogans now stood across the street from large corporate billboards and were considered unappealing to the eyes of the tourists and emigrants who would come back every summer to spend their francs and dollars. This sparked a country-wide cleanup and as Portugal settled into its life as a democracy, the walls were painted white. As time passed, those walls ended up with multiple layers of thick paint hiding the past. ➞ When young Vhils started his “career” as a street artist, he was just another angsty teen running around Lisbon with his crew, tagging walls. He discovered what was under the peeling layers of white paint—posters, more paint, slogans, concrete, brick. He was an archeologist chipping away at the walls and peeling back layers of time to expose the history that had been sealed behind the thick paint. The walls I had seen on my trip—the walls that spoke to the revolution, and the break from oppression. ➞ It was with these two commonalities that I broke the ice and started my conversation with Vhils, and it turns out he’s extremely accessible. In fact, after speaking with him, I added a few more words to my list—soft spoken, humble, attentive, compassionate. LUSO LIFE

“Sra. Idalina Azevedo - Part of my ongoing Scratching the Surface project, this new mural celebrates and honours the Portuguese immigrant women who toiled as janitorial workers in the high-rise office towers in downtown Toronto in the 1970’s. Portuguese “cleaning ladies” have been a constant presence in the lives of countless Portuguese-Canadians as mothers, wives, breadwinners, community members, and activists, and are an example of strength, resilience, perseverance and courage for us all.“ Vhils

LUSO LIFE

Luso Life: In 1974, Portugal had The Carnation Revolution. Here in Toronto, the Portuguese had a different protest—the Cleaners’ Action, which is the subject of your mural. Do you see any similarities or a correlation between the two? Alexandre Farto [Vhils]: I think so. Some of the intentions and the story behind the activism that was brought at the time was really related to the movement that was going through Portugal. So, there are some correlations, but I think it was a very specific local struggle for the conditions that people were living through at the time. I was really touched by the way people were engaging to fight for the rights for no better work conditions. As part of one of the first waves of immigration, this kind of march was a way for people to participate in Canadian society as well. So it was a way for them to reclaim the fact that they exist, and that they needed to have fair conditions of work, and that really touched me. I think it’s very important to pay homage not just for the act, but also for the people that are still alive, which we were able to portray, like Idalina who we depicted in the portrait. In that sense, the idea of the mural is to portray the story, not that it’s invisible, because people know the story, but to make it visible for people to discuss it, to talk about it and to feel proud about it. So, in that sense, it’s connected with a body of work that I do, that tries to bring stories, almost like an archaeologist, back from the walls to where they belong. So, the act of carving a wall is a bit of an archeological process as well. A wall is there, and you have the surface of the wall, but when you carve into it, those layers were there before my existence, you know. So in a way you’re kind of an archaeologist of the city and of the communities where you work, you know, that’s, that’s an intention. Right. This is like what I was saying to you yesterday, my first introduction to street art was in Portugal and all the leftist political symbols that were all painted on the walls. By the time you were born, they were painted over, then you started peeling away at them, right? Yeah, that’s a very interesting story, I was born, was late 80s, and some were still there into the 90s—not all but some of them—but they were fading away from the sun. So, it was like, we had these utopian activist murals from a generation before, but they were forgotten in a way, because the country

went from extreme right to extreme left, and then in the late 80s, we got into the EU. There was a big boom, with the economy being liberalized, and things evolved in a direction where you started to have a lot of advertising on the street. So, on one side, you had a forgotten mural from the 70s that was claiming a utopian society, and on the opposite side of the street, you would have a huge billboard selling, you know, consumer goods. So, you could see this confrontation between two systems in the streets while I was growing up. Then graffiti started showing up, and it went on top of the advertising and on top of those walls, and then the City Council started to paint everything white. It was like the walls were testimony of the changes of time, and it was like the city was getting fatter, with different perspectives on the city and on society. So, when I was 15 or 16, and I was exploring, I was part of this, and I was doing graffiti on those walls, but I started to think, everyone is adding to the walls in the city. You can see everyone is overlaying things on top and I came up with the idea—why am I adding and participating in this adding of adding? Why not go to a wall and instead of adding, I remove, and I paint with the layers of time that were there, in the search of who we are in the middle of all of these changes, you know? LUSO LIFE

So that’s how the work kind of started, in this quest of looking for what really defines us, what are we beyond all of these things that are put in public spaces to dictate our needs and what we should want. It was in this quest that I ended up with this concept of being kind of an urban archaeologist, that goes out to expose those layers that we forgot. Something I was thinking about as well is how it’s funny that I went on to use explosives in my body of work, In 2008/2009, we had a big debt crisis in Portugal, and I realized that the impact of crisis, it’s almost like a spark that ignites and innocently, and the things that we were talking about back in the 70s, and 80s like protectionism and countries isolating themselves from Europe, come back when we get too close to crisis. So, in a way, some the symbology of using explosives, is kind of how a crisis can ignite an explosion, and suddenly you have a wall that is exposed that was there in the 50s, when we were talking about nationalism, and all of these questions that arise and that are quite contemporary today. It’s what I try to reflect on—how history tends to repeat itself and we tend to make the same mistakes. Back to this mural, I’ve already heard that some community leaders were grumbling about the subject matter. They see it as stereotyping Portuguese women as cleaners—I think they’re missing the point. What are your thoughts? you want to comment on that. Yeah. when you work in a public space, you’re always exposed to people having their own opinions, and that’s part of it. The intention is to create a stereotype, it’s actually the opposite. It is to pay homage to people that played a significant role in society and they should be admired for that. It doesn’t mean that we are a stereotype. We are free to be what we are. The new generations will come but we should never forget the struggle that people went through. I think it’s validated, showing it as a place of strength is much more powerful than trying to hide all those struggles and all those tough times that have allowed us to be here now.

LUSO LIFE

When I was here on Friday, an older gentleman stopped to admire your work and chat with me. He said the mural should’ve been made somewhere else so it could be protected from the kids who will just paint over it. He suggested High Park, which is a nice spot but has nothing to do with Portuguese people or the Cleaners’ Action. What do you think? I understand but I think the fabric of little Portugal and the story that this place has makes it more connected with the story we are talking about. So in that sense, I think it’s the right place in this case, but it doesn’t mean that one day we cannot do a project about something else somewhere else. Urban art isn’t always fondly accepted. Because your subjects are mainly ordinary people from the neighbourhood, do you find the feedback to your murals positive? Sometimes yes. Sometimes the subjects are controversial as well but that’s part of working in public space. Someone once told me that it’s great because you do your art in a public space, but you also make your mistakes in public space. So you’re exposed to all of that but it’s part of the nature of working in a public space. Then, of course, people can paint over it. The wall evolves through time which is also part of working in a public space.

Have you ever hidden in the background quietly and just listened to people comment on your work? Not many times, but sometimes, yeah! [laughs] Unlike traditional artists, street artists are sometimes looked at as criminals who have no regard for other people’s property. Thanks to people like yourself, Banksy and the higher profile artists, the genre is starting to get respect. Here in Toronto, we have an area called Graffiti Alley where artists are encouraged to be creative and paint walls, garage doors, etc. What are your thoughts on cities having specific spaces for graffiti? I think, the illegal appropriation of the public space is always going to happen, It happens legally as well, with advertising and other expressions but that’s part of living in a city. Living in a city is a synonym of graffiti and graffiti is a synonym of a city. So it’s always something that is intertwined– the nature of the city as an organism and human nature. I think you can go against it. You can forbid it and you can arrest people, but I don’t think you’re gonna gain anything by doing that. I think a lot of the cities are starting to understand that creating a connection with their artistic scene, be it graffiti artists or any artist that wants to work in a public space, brings an edge to those cities that other cities don’t get. Toronto has quite an interesting policy; Philadelphia has a program that works closely with artists; Lisbon, as well is a great example of authority starting to create a connection with artists—a union that brings reverence to the neighbourhoods and brings people that just come to walk and enjoy the different murals. I would prefer to live in a city that has evolution and that has art in a public space that rather than not having it. It’s a bit suspect for me to say this, but I think a lot of the cities are seeing urban art as a medium of promoting themselves and to bring attention to neighbourhoods that sometimes are forgotten. Recently, we’ve seen many luxury brands working with street artists to create edgy campaigns. What are your feelings towards collabs with the corporate world? It’s complex but I know that every artist has to pay their bills and work through their life. For a long time, it was a place of struggle, and this acceptance that is happening now, was not there 5 to10 years ago. These artists are entitled to manage their career the way they want, and that’s fair, in a sense, but at the same time, I hope that artists are conscious of that, and that some of the money they earn from those projects can be applied to community projects or to projects that help other artists. Right, because you run a program in Lisbon, don’t you? Yeah, we’re a team. We have a gallery in Lisbon where we support local artists and we also bring artists from abroad to work in Lisbon. They come, do a show, and they also do wall in the city. I funded a festival as well, with other partners, not just showcasing art but also music. So it’s kind of creating a space where people can show their art and live from what they do and display their emotion. I will always try to do projects that, in a way, give space to new art forms in the city—it’s my way of trying to give back a bit. 58

LUSO LIFE

Vhils, I’m assuming was your tag name?

Does it bother you when your art is destroyed?

Yep. [laughs]

No. When you work in a public space, you need to be ready to be part of an organism that evolves and changes. People paint over things and buildings get demolished. Sometimes it’s tough, because they are walls that you have an engagement with—you have a story to tell—but I think the wall that evolves through your lifetime, and if it decays or evolves or someone paints over it or whatever, it’s more human, because it changes as we change. I’m not doing a bronze sculpture, you know. When you work on walls in a public space, you need to be ready as well for the work to evolve, because it’s not yours anymore—it belongs to the city. So in the end, I am not really for protecting walls, I would say, but I understand why they want to do it. I think it’s important to let the city evolve, you know.

I’m assuming you ran with a crew? Yeah. Do you still work with any of them? Some of them are part of my group? I’ve known them for a long, long time. Others I will still paint with sometimes from time to time, I still paint but, you know, the work evolves, the career evolves but I still keep in touch quite a lot. I mean, we, we the friends—crew that I started with. Are there any paintings by 15-year-old Vhils still on display in Lisbon? [laughs] In the suburbs, maybe a few? Not many, It was long time ago. Has anyone tried to protect your walls from destruction? Yeah, it happens sometimes. It even happened that one wall was removed from one place to another. It’s part of it, I mean, I accept the ephemeral side of working in the public space.

Creativity can be attributed to nurture and the environment we are brought up in but it is also inherited… are your parents creative people or are you more a product of the streets? My father is an accountant and my mom is a professor, so no, nothing connected with this. [laughs] with this. Graffiti, for sure had a big influence on my upbringing, though I was self-conscious about working in public space. I was also involved with a lot of associations at the beginning, and still I am trying to help in the neighbourhoods around where I was living. It was not planned. I guess, I was lucky to have met the people that I found. Did they encourage your art? It was complicated at first, but now they support. It was not easy. They were worried, I guess. Being an artist is probably not the best profession. Do you have any formal art education? I do. I don’t know how schools work in Canada, but in secondary school I was in the arts division of the public school and there I had two professors that were really understanding and believed in me. They really pushed me to continue and to reflect on things. When I left school I tried to get into Belas-Artes which is like the main Art School in Lisbon, but I didn’t have the grades to get in… which actually was good because then I went to study in London. I was on a tight budget but I was lucky enough to work closely with the Banksy team and I was invited to be part of the Cans Festival [2008]. I already had some attention in Portugal, but it was Cans that brought me international attention, and then projects started to come— it was an important step.

LUSO LIFE

Graffiti artists work anonymously, how have you adapted to becoming a public figure who’s now commissioned to “destroy” people’s walls?

I know you’ve worked with musicians like U2 and Orelha Negra. Do you enjoy collabs? Are there any artists/musicians you’d like to work with?

It was an evolution, not taught. I still do projects at a lot of places like factories that are abandoned, but having the privilege to be invited to cities, where you work closely with communities, with associations, and you can make an impact in the city, it’s great. Also being able to bring the team and having good conditions to work is great. The energy is the same because I still do quite a lot. The fact is we can do these kind of projects, where everything, is very well organized but we also have space to do other things that are less organized and more complicated. I try to have a balance between the two.

I’ve managed to work with some great people. Colabs are very interesting, because it puts you out of your comfort zone. So you are exposed to do something that you are not expected to do, and that’s where growth comes from—specifically for me, possibly not for everyone. So, artists to work with? Let’s see… I have a few things going on.

After they become famous, artists are sometimes accused of not being authentic. How is it that you’ve managed to stay true to your art and maintain the same level of street cred? I don’t know. [laughs] I mean maybe some people think other things—that I am not authentic or whatever, but I guess everyone is entitled to their opinion. What I try to do is never forget where I came from. As well, I remember the struggle of being an artist and how tough it is. In the process of creation and growth through my work, I always try to keep my feet on the ground and try to do grassroots projects where I can support other artists and give back to the artistic community that’s given me a lot as well.

What are you listening to right now? Every type of music. I don’t really discriminate between music types. I helped create the Festival Iminente. Its kind of a chill vibe—it’s a lot of the things that I listen to. So if you visit the website, there’s a lineup you can look through,. You work in negative space and extraction—almost like carving a jack-o-lantern. Was it difficult to train yourself to see the wall in that way? Because you’re seeing it as a negative, aren’t you? In a way yes, but more than just seeing the negative space is accepting the chaos of layers being built by nature in the city—you never know what you’re going to find behind the wall. I’ve found old murals, I found a ring once. So what I have is a kind of image in my head of what I want to do next but then the wall dictates the final results, because I never know what’s there—Is it going to be grey? is it going to be dark grey? Is it going to be plaster? Is it going to be brick? It’s all a discovery that I go through. Part of the process of creation, which then dictates the final result. There’s a luthier in North Carolina (US) named Freemon Vines who makes very unique guitars, some carved from trees where black men were lynched and hanged. Freeman says the guitars are unique because the wood speaks and guides him. Do you have similar feelings working on walls that are also hundreds of years old and full of history? Yeah, it’s accepting the nature of the materials and the chaos of the history. I never know how it was gonna end—It’s a dance. You never know if a wall is going to break. If it’s going to be fragile on that side and then a big part comes off; or it’s going to be stronger on the other, so it’s more difficult, and then your strength is not enough to break it. It’s always a dialogue between your strengths, the wall’s strengths, the wall’s history, the layers and the place. I’ve made murals in a lot of cities and the material in each city is different for a reason. There’s a story behind it. vhils.com

LUSO LIFE

WORDS: inês carpinteiro

Illustration: David Ganhão

ou saw the title and were reminded of the very famous book and movie, ‘Fifty Shades of Grey’. This is not about the unrealistic story of Christian Grey and Anastasia Steele. But I guess there are some similarities – the subordination of women, the lust, the sexual exploitation, and very peculiar contract demands. This month, the world will stop to rate women based on shallow features to decide who deserves to be Miss Universe. The year 1952 marks the beginning of – what I consider to be – a very unhealthy contest. Miss Universe started as a marketing stunt by a California clothing company, the Pacific Knitting Mills, after the winner of the rival pageant (Miss America) refused to wear one of their swimsuits. Yes, Miss Universe was started as a petty fight. Although, that’s not even the worst part, their rules are. If you wish to be part of the competition you should be between 18 and 27 years old and have a university degree. The contestants can’t have children and can’t be married or engaged. This used to be even stricter, their participation would not be valid if they had been married once or even if they were widows. According to the pageant’s website the winners must have intelligence and poise – obviously, someone who was once married was not very intelligent otherwise would have stayed single *eye roll*. Beauty pageants have been around for a long time, the first Miss America took place in 1921. They have become part of the American culture. Since then, beauty pageants have made the news frequently and usually not for the best reasons. Many beauty queens have made the headlines, some saw their crown and title removed because they lied about their age or marital status; others were involved in sexual and drug scandals; some saw their online profiles deeply analyzed and racial slurs were exposed; others were accused of cheating during the competition and there have been episodes where the loser doesn’t take on the news well and steals the crown from the winner. The scandals don’t include merely the contestants, the CEOs of the pageants are also in scrutiny. Many are accused of using the pageant for their own business goals; others accused of sexual harassment and exploitation. In case you haven’t seen any of these, I’m sure you remember the video that took over on social media in 2015, when Steve Harvey announced the wrong Miss Universe. All this adding up has ruined the pageant’s image. 68

LUSO LIFE

I have no experience in beauty pageants or any desire to ever be part of that alternative world. But I do remember being in my teen years, getting home from school, turning on the TV and coming across a show called ‘Toddlers & Tiaras’. That is probably one of the worst shows I’ve ever seen in my life. The show would display the backstage and preparation for the beauty pageant. Children little over one year old were what many times seem to be - forced to participate as if their mothers were having some kind of feeling of fulfillment from it. Hours and hours of practice, walking straight, learning to pose, fake smiling your way through the catwalk. On the day of the pageant a huge commotion, moms stressed trying to force toddlers to stay still – which at this age is pretty much against their nature – doing their hair or resorting to wigs, using fake spray tan, some even adding fake teeth to hide the natural process of decaying baby teeth. Of course, at that time, the first thing I thought was how these moms put all those things on their kids, when I would see my sister fight my mom for hours to put a shirt on, so she could be sent to kindergarten. But today, I see the effort put to transform those children into miniature grown women. Although a win can boost their confidence, every time they lose, they wonder why they were not pretty enough. To this day, I don’t understand what is appealing in beauty contests for children – or in any age. It does them more harm than good. Even if they win, the prize doesn’t make up for all the money spent. It’s not a sport. It seems to be a group of moms showcasing their ‘most beautiful creature’, forcing their dreams on their kids. In fact, studies found a high rate of eating and mental disorders in adults who had participated in beauty pageants as a child. Beauty pageants don’t only break your spirit, they can also break your bank account. Each contestant needs to present a couple of outfits, which are not worn very many times but are extremely expensive. Each outfit costs around $2,000 and there are many other costs when participating – makeup, hair, accessories, coaches, and instructors. And things don’t get prettier as they get older. Now, let’s talk business. What are women competing for in Miss Universe? The winner takes home a cash allowance, a New York Film Academy scholarship, a modeling portfolio, and access to events such as fashion shows and opening galas. Additionally, they get beauty products, clothes, shoes, as well as styling, healthcare and fitness services offered by the sponsors. The person who wins the crown will dedicate

their next 365 days to interviews, hosting events, traveling, supporting humanitarian causes and, most importantly, representing the brand of Miss Universe.

on appearance. In today’s society, it is already wrong to have a contest based on looks, but it’s even more disrespectful to mask it as it’s a philanthropic crusade.

For a country to be part of the contest, a local company or person needs to buy the local rights through a franchise fee which will include the rights of image, the brand and everything related to the pageant. That country’s model selection will involve a local pageant or an internal selection. Contestants only have one chance to win the crown. Before the contest, they spend weeks in preliminary competitions, numerous rehearsals and all their efforts will be judged on a two hour live show. Many participants undergo procedures to enhance certain features looking for any advantage they can. Lip fillers, botox or even more invasive procedures—all is allowed.

But wait… things do get worse. Donald Trump, along with NBC Universal, owned Miss Universe from 1996 until 2015, when he was forced to sell after his speeches generated controversy during his presidential campaign. From invading the contestant’s privacy to joking about his obligation to sleep with every participant, Trump’s behavior sums up the dark side of beauty pageants. As the owner, he would make his personal selection to guarantee the ones he found the most attractive were in the final. He publicly and proudly stated, “the bathing suits got smaller, and the heels got higher, and the ratings went up.” During Trump’s campaign, Hillary Clinton reminded the public that according to Miss Venezuela, Alicia Machado, he had humiliated her by forcing her to exercise in front of a group of reporters after she had gained weight during her reign. In fact, many of the contests have lost their crown for gaining weight – and by gaining weight, I mean to put on two kilos like we will all be doing during the holidays.

When you visit their website, they claim to be an inclusive organization that celebrates women of all cultures and backgrounds – I mean, but only the single one’s, right? They consider themselves an inclusive organization, but they only allowed transgender contestants after 2012 – and only after a lawsuit. The first transgender contestant walked the runway on 2018. That’s one of the many examples of their hypocrisy. One of their major goals is, and this one I’ll have to quote, “Breaking stereotypes - Research has shown the #1 obstacle for women to overcome in reaching their potential is a lack of self-confidence.” Lack of self-confidence? I wonder where that comes from… probably from the same beauty industry that sponsors these contests and feeds from our insecurities. Advertisers and the media have played a big role in telling people what is beautiful or not. And where is the diversity when all participants are a size 0? Aren’t they spreading the wrong message? Especially in a world where young women feel forced to look and act a certain way. Despite asserting that their focus is the intellectual and philanthropic side, the pageants’ structure demonstrates something else. First, you are judged based on your evening gown; second, you will walk the catwalk wearing a swimsuit or athletic clothes (probably the most honest part of the competition); you will then, finally, have a ‘personality interview’ where they will question you on subjects such as politics, social or cultural issues – attention, you are not supposed to be very opinioned on a particular subject; and lastly, we go back to what this is really about, the final look. So, it’s 75% based

For me, this is enough proof that these beauty contests do not empower women. It’s not just glitter and glam. Beauty pageants perpetuate the idea that women are just bodies to be rated from 1 to 10, which keeps alive the impression that the best we have to offer is our appearance. Having them pretending it’s something more than that is even more disturbing. On the other side, and to be fair, I think it’s great that women take the opportunity to accomplish a career they desire, but that doesn’t erase the awful situations they have to face. I’m sure there’s plenty of inspiring women who enter these competitions, but a beauty pageant is definitely not the best way to portray them. My opinions and views aren’t unique—beauty pageants have been causing disconnect between women for a long time. In 1968, 400 women took the streets of New Jersey to protest Miss America. That day, they crowned a live sheep “Miss America”, and threw bras, makeup, aprons, and cleaning products into a “Freedom Trash Can”. I can’t believe that 53 years later the beauty pageants are still on and have over 500 million viewers in over 190 countries. The Freedom Trash Can gets fuller and fuller, but progress is sluggish. I guess humanity really is doomed.

LUSO LIFE

WORDS & photos: David & Noah ganhão

THE LIST 10 great albums

This isn’t a definitive list (what list is?)… in fact, this isn’t even a list… what we’re presenting is a peak into our record collection… a collection that (if I say so myself) has a lot of cred. And from that collection, we’ve chosen 10 albums that belong in everyone’s collection. The criteria? We only chose from our vinyl—no CDs, no digital; We tried to not stick to one genre [although many were ignored— sorry]; and the album itself needs some sort of cool-factor—was it innovative, did it speak to a generation or was it just fun to listen to. Looking through our albums this could’ve easily been 20 or 30 albums—let’s be honest, narrowing down to only one Beatles, one Bowie and one Bon Iver album was a challenge! You may not agree with these choices…but ultimately, we don’t care. Some will hate on the Beatles but let’s clear the air—without them, pretty much every album here (with the exception of Charlie Brown Christmas) wouldn’t exist. Is Sgt, Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band their best album? To us… sometimes… it really depends what day it is. When we made this selection, it was a toss-up between Pepper and Revolver. Some may critique Paul’s Boutique because it flopped when it came out, but with its eclectic use of sampling, the Beastie Boys [with a lot of help from the Dust Brothers] refined the genre… it’s the Sgt. Pepper of hip hop. Bowie… what can we [not] say about him. After four albums, he finally rose to fame with this album… When I say “he” I mean Bowie playing Ziggy, the androgynous, rock-god from space with more than a taste for sex and drugs. Every album by The Clash is essential listening—they were smart, political and played with brutal force. They weren’t labeled “the only band that matters” for nothing. Corny? Maybe to you… in our house, it’s a holiday classic; it’s sentimental jazzy-lounge music; it’s the first album played on November 12 to start the Festive Season; it gets regular play throughout the year; it’s A Charlie Brown Christmas and deserves a place on this list. Again, you may not agree with these choices… music is subjective. If we had more vinyl on the shelves, our selection would be different… it’s possible that if we were choosing 10 albums tomorrow, some of the “short-list” would make the cut— Hendrix, Pink Floyd, Chet Atkins, Elvis [both of them!]. What we’re really trying to say is that these are 10 great albums—go listen and enjoy. listen to our 10 Great albums spotify playlist

paul’s boutique

s g t . p e pp e r ’ s lonely hearts club band

beastie boys

the beatles

hip hop | sampledelia

rock | pop | psychedelia | art rock

date: 25 jul 1989

label: capitol

date: 26 may 1967

label: parlophone LUSO LIFE

i, i

the rise and fall of ziggy stardust and the spiders from mars

bon iver

david bowie

chamber folk | experimental folktronica 2019 72

label: jagjaguwar LUSO LIFE

glam rock | proto-punk 1972

label: rca

london calling

endless

the clash rock | post-punk | punk | ska | new wave 1979

label: cbs | epic

frank ocean ambient | pop | avant-soul | r&b | trap 2016

label: fresh produce | def jam LUSO LIFE

lazaretto

standing in the dark

jack white

platinum blonde

blues | rock | garage rock alternative

pop rock | new wave

2014 label: third man | xl | columbia 74

LUSO LIFE

1983

label: columbia | cbs canada

hatful of hollow

1984

the smiths

vince guaraldi trio

alternative rock | indie pop

christmas music | jazz | soundtrack

label: rough trade | sire

1965

label: fantasy LUSO LIFE

WORDS: David Ganhão

PHOTOS: mike neal

SALT

a delectable four letter word It’s been a very long time since I served my last customer at Étienne’s—at least 25 years. It was a small restaurant situated over an art gallery. It’s long gone but when I walked into Salt Wine Bar, all those feelings of what I enjoyed about working in restaurants came back. It was a Monday afternoon and the place was closed. Chairs were still up on the tables and Philip Carneiro, the restaurant manager was at the bar folding napkins whilst on the phone taking a reservation. We chatted about how the shoot was going to go and then Chef Dave Kemp appeared from the kitchen. Chef Dave came in specifically to prepare a couple of small dishes for us—he seemed very excited about the project, especially considering it was his day off. His only concern was for his one-year-old-daughter who was quietly napping while Mike photographed Dave in action.

LUSO LIFE

I can always tell when a restaurant has great staff—it starts with a chill disposition. I know, I know, Gordon Ramsey has made a career out of acting like an out of control lunatic, but that’s a little over-the-top… I mean, it makes for good TV [if that’s your thing] but not for a very pleasant work environment. Watching Philip and Chef Dave interact—even for just a few minutes, you could tell they had respect for one another, allowing each other to speak and contributing to each other’s thoughts almost like a couple that’s been together for 10 years… which they are, in a way. Chef Dave has been at Salt since opening day in 2010, Philip showed up a year later and they’ve been working together ever since to create delectable Iberian combinations for their guests—Chef Dave is responsible for the food [naturally] and Philip uses his vast knowledge of Portuguese and Spanish wines [which is all they serve] to suggest the perfect match. “I love to pair wine with food.” It doesn’t get simpler than that. When I ask them to set the menu for an imaginary dinner, Chef Dave jumps right in, “For two? Five dishes. Let’s say Cheese Charcuterie, Hokkido Sea Scallop Crudo, Heirloom Beets, Seafood Paella and Grilled Spanish Octopus…or Crispy Duck Confit.’ He talks it out with Philip and they both agree on the duck. Philip quickly pairs the wines. “First course I would start with a sparkling wine, right now we’re pouring Luis Pato Maria Gomes from Bairrada—fantastic. That works with the beets as well. Second course, Alvarinho all the way, especially with the scallop. Soalheiro, Alvarinho—it’s got that fruit upfront, it’s super 78

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fresh and no oak so it won’t overpower the dish. This also pairs with the paella. For the duck, I’d pour the Conceito Bastardo Red— it’s perfect. Bastardo is an old grape variety that was used in Ports but it’s been pushed aside by the big producers.” He went on for a bit more, backing up his selections while Chef Dave nodded approvingly. Respect.

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In the eleven years since their opening, Salt has seen a lot happen on what is now known as the Ossington Strip. The area is almost unrecognizable from its past life as a hub where the local Portuguese community would come to shop, repair their cars and purchase grapes during wine season. In fact, pre-Salt, 225 Ossington used to be home to Mira Mar Fish

Store, my mother-in-law’s favourite place to buy seafood for Christmas. Today the Strip is lined with restaurants—all serving different fare. “When we started, there were a few restaurants around us at top of Ossington, but nobody ventured down towards Queen—there was no reason. Today it’s different.” And Philip meant different in a good way. The street has

something for everyone and you can tell by the visitors—a little bit fancy, a little bit not, but 100% in the know. It’s a scene that is full of character with no signs of slowing down. We chatted and ate and as we packed up to leave, I had one parting question. For years, I’ve had a running joke that the Portuguese spice

rack consists of salt, sea salt, coarse salt, fine salt, more salt and bay leaves… So, why Salt? Philip laughed. “Do you want the romanticized answer or the simple, boring answer? When we first opened, the concept was to only serve wine, cheese and charcuterie. When you cure your meats, you use salt. It’s about being noble and honest—salt of the earth. The simple

reason… when you’re looking to name a restaurant, you want a name that’s super easy to remember—that’s Salt. Four letters, you use it everyday, you see it every time you open your cupboard.” Delectable. saltrestaurant.ca

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Sea scallop crudo 3 scallops thinly sliced

Thinly slice the scallops and the apple.

Sea salt

Fan scallops out on the plate.

Pickled fennel

Sprinkle with sea salt.

Green apple thinly sliced Pickled chili

Assemble by layering fennel, apple, chili, and mint on top of each scallop.

Fresh lemon juice

Add a squeeze of fresh lemon juice.

Mint

Drizzle with olive oil.

Extra virgin olive oil

Serve.

Foie gras & chicken liver pate 400g chicken liver

Sauté onions in butter.

200g foie gras

Add wines into the pan and reduce to a syrup.

150ml madeira wine

Cool it down so it becomes thick oniony syrupy goodness.

150ml port

Add eggs, liver and foie gras into a blender and blend at medium speed.

60ml muscatel 60ml brandy white onion finely chopped (you can use shallots) 6 eggs 400g butter four spice [fennel seed, black pepper, coriander seed and fresh thyme] butter for sautéing

Slowly add melted butter and reduced wine mixture so it turns into a liver milkshake consistency. Add salt, and four spice. Strain mixture using a fine mesh chinois colander. Pour into ramekins. Bake in water bath at 350º for 10-15 minutes, just so they are set— 55º. Cool and cover with duck fat to preserve. Will keep for two weeks in the refrigerator.

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WORDS & PHOTO: Mike Neal psychic

Portrait

Seeing as this is the Winter 21/22 edition, I thought it’d be appropriate to share a photo with some snowfall in it. This photo was made during a mid-January blizzard that brought temperatures in the -30s to Toronto. Pearson International Airport ended up recording 26.4 centimetres of snow by midnight, the first time Toronto had more than 20 centimetres of snow in a single day since 1968, 51 years earlier. Planes were stuck on runways, subway lines were shut down, schools were closed, and roads were a nightmare. It sounds awful, and it was, but in a very strange way it was also quite fun. I found this very strange, vibrant, and almost out of place Psychic shop several months earlier, and for some reason I knew it had to be photographed while it was snowing. When I heard about the blizzard that was going to sweep through the city, I added it to my list of “places to visit with the camera”. Taking my old camera out on days as cold as this was, and still is, a challenge; the thing can take a nice photo here and there, but it’s an old machine, and it doesn’t like being in the freezing weather for too long. When I’m making photographs in the snow, I often spend as much time in streetcars and subways warming the battery with my hands as I do making pictures.

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My window to get “the shot” of the Psychic shop was short, but I stood there and waited. I knew I could probably just snap a shot of the pink exterior through the falling flakes and end up with a nice-looking image, but I felt like it deserved something a little more than that. I waited and watched as people walked through the scene wearing colourful clothes and as interesting cars drove past, but nothing was truly sparking my interest. Then I noticed a lady walking down the sidewalk wearing a pink hat and a pink pair of pants. Jackpot. It matched the storefront perfectly. I knew that as long as I clicked the shutter at the right time and my camera battery didn’t die on me, I’d have the image I was looking for. I was even happier when she walked through the door of the shop. She must have been the psychic herself! I don’t actually know if it was, but I always thought the pink pants looked like something a ‘psychic’ would wear. This was always a favourite picture of mine, purely because the odds of everything working out the way they did in this scene were so low. The weather, the timing, and the matching colours all came together exactly when they needed to. I might have just been very, very lucky; but maybe she already knew this was the image I was hoping to make all along.

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