Montreal en Lumière makes its long-awaited post-pandemic return

City-goers swarm Place des Arts at one of the city’s biggest cultural events

Naomi Gupta Contributor

The long, gloomy days of February aren’t for the faint of heart. But, amid the neverending winter, Montreal brought some life and light—quite literally—back to the city. On Feb. 16, Montreal’s Quartier des Spectacles opened its doors to Montréal en Lumière, welcoming teenagers, students, and parents looking to keep themselves busy over spring break.

Located steps away from the Place-des-Arts metro station, this 18-day-long festival included an array of events catered to foodies, concert lovers, and outdoor-activity fanatics. Skating rinks, concerts, shows, DJ booths, food trucks, and outdoor exhibits lined the intersections of Jeanne-Mance, Balmoral, St. Catherine, and de Maisonneuve Ouest. Most of the outdoor activities were free and open for hours on end, making the festival accessible to those with varying schedules. And, for students like myself, with a small budget and some extra time to kill during Reading Week, this was the perfect occasion to ditch the books and get a taste of Montreal’s cultural scene.

Establishing an action plan prior to my arrival would’ve been appropriate considering the festival’s popularity, but, alas, it had completely slipped my mind. As I wandered into Place des Arts at 9 p.m., skates in hand, my friend and I were baffled to see how the length of the queue for the skating rink—or skating “loop,” as it was described—rivalled that of McGill’s Activities Night and how, by 10 p.m., it seemed to be primarily composed of eight to 12-year-olds. After much shivering and endless back-and-forths between the rink and the central fire pit to warm up, we finally made it onto the main rink.

Most of the fun had less to do with the actual skating—or participating in any given activity—and more to do with simply enjoying the ambiance. MingXi Gu, U1 Science (and firsttimer at Montréal en Lumière) quickly came to realize this.

“I’ve never seen the city so lit up,” he said. “The energy was amazing—the lights and music truly made the city feel magical.”

Braving the cold and the interminable lines called for a mustneeded wintery treat—good thing for Beaver Tails, Tim Hortons, and the event’s signature maple taffy. Although $9 for a Beaver Tail seemed a little bit pricey, nothing beats the feeling of wolfing down a piece of Nutella-coated fried dough after shivering in the -13-degree-Celsius weather for a few hours.

Beyond the radiating energy of the festival, what was most enjoyable was getting outside in the wintertime, which can otherwise be very difficult. Colder temperatures are often an excuse to stay indoors, but Montréal en Lumière’s objective was to make spending time outdoors more appealing to all, despite the colder temperatures of the season. The festival’s various activities and creative ways of keeping participants warm was its way of doing just that.

“Despite people’s general lack of motivation and the season being so dreadful, everyone really came together to make Montreal feel alive again,” Gu shared.

For locals, Montréal en Lumière is an excellent reminder of all the city has to offer and the benefits of getting outside and enjoying the wintertime, even when it seems impossible to do so. But, for international students, it can provide even more—an understanding and appreciation of the city and its culture beyond the few neighbourhoods surrounding McGill’s downtown campus. Conveniently located and low-cost, Montréal en Lumière is a pit stop for those looking to combine fun, accessible, affordable, and creative pastimes.

Unfortunately, the festival— with all of its shimmery lights and loud music—came to an end on Sunday. But, for those who missed out or who are looking for a similar taste of Montréal en Lumière, the city has similar—albeit warmer—events lined up in the upcoming months, including Quebec’s International Film Festival, starting in April, the Jazz Fest, which kicks off on June 29, along with its comedy-centred Just for Laughs festival, which takes place in July.

Matthew Molinaro Managing Editor

In a now-viral, nine-minute introduction speech in praise of Michael B. Jordan’s star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, actor Jonathan Majors expressed his love for his friend, Creed III co-star, and brother. Embracing one another, the pair displayed an intimacy and affection uncommon in an era that has proclaimed a decline in men’s friendships. In industries and public economies that pit and structure Black performers against others, particularly their fellow workers of colour, mutual recognition and support not only uplifts us, but wills us to change.

When you think of your friends— the drinking buddies, the hiking pals, the running bros, the Scrabble mates, the lacrosse lads, or even the trivia tyrants— you just know they have to be different than women’s friendships. You know it’s not as simple as it might seem. You might think: Even if I don’t say I love Cyrus or Donovan or Stephen, they’re always around and we’ve got a great rapport. We can and must do better than passive presence for our shared survival. Why do studies alone receive the mantle of “work hard”? How do we prevent social alienation for men and promote love, community, and growth instead? To demonstrate the advice-giving your good friend should offer, The McGill Tribune came together to rethink the possibility and potential of men’s kinship.

The Bluest Times

Friendship grows from intentional reciprocity. We play a game of give and take: You scratch my back, I scratch yours. For men who grew up told to suppress their emotions and were demanded or encouraged to turn to anger, fury, or silent discontent at the world and themselves, intention feels vulnerable. Naturalized, yet unrealistic, masculinity strips you of your ability to express yourself and articulate what you need and why you need it. Displacing care as a “feminine” action not only continuously genders existing labours, emotional and intimate, but creates a wall for any kind of relationship across the differences you leave uncritical. Thick skin doesn’t grow without original harm—to overcome it, you need an antidote.

You seek your friend out because you cannot control your own isolation and you cannot move forward alone. Your turn to selfcare (even if you don’t call it that) in the things that bring you pleasure: That comfort show, that beer, that sport, shouldn’t close the door. You can bring each other up. When we struggle to share the part of us that hurts to touch, we close off the care of another. Stoicism or body-building might make you strong, but pushing past internal struggles makes you stronger collectively.

None to Accompany Me

Sure, we enter university to grasp our fantasies: Your parents’ approval, your upward mobility, your eventual autonomy. But actively committing to and working on your friendships destabilizes what we see as male individual talent. Moving beyond the self and the “fruitful” friendships of convenience, we enter into a form of unproud, radical dependence. Are you weaker because you communicate clearly? Are you less of a man because you ask for help when you need it? Consider whether friends who judge you on your manliness or weakness should be the ones you keep.

Friendship suffers when we treat it as an alliance. You’ve sold out a connection when you forget about his soul. Using each other’s resources to get into medical school, to find that finance internship, to talk to his mom’s hyperpop violinist circle will leave you unsatisfied. Think about what connecting friendship to these goals does. Finding value only in the end result, you assimilate into a lonely system that will sever you from the good of others. That greed and that wanting will be reproduced by your group, a pyrrhic reciprocity that won’t actually hold you accountable, uplift you, and push you to be the person you can be.

Gathering Together in our Names

Take a mental picture of your friends. You affirm one another, see them for who they are and where they’re at, talk candidly, joke around, and leave these spaces warm. This doesn’t have to be some distant dream. The simple gestures, the fistbump, the wave, the meme or tweet shared, the reassuring comment, the shared laughter, the meaningful time makes leaps. Don’t maledict yourself by not getting real. The light of a smile can push you out of the dark.