Citizens

The Hudson Bay Whaling and Fur Station in Apex, Nunavut, is a historic place where many families gather from Iqaluit to spend time at the beach and explore the remains of the whaling station and the beautiful surroundings. The building was originally a site for trading fur and whale products and later became a store to supply local Inuit with supplies. The store was closed in the 1960s but remains a popular tourist spot.

The beauty of the Prairies and the Rocky Mountains of Alberta in spring with a dog named Brutus.

Being at home is appreciating every moment, passing quality time with those who are dear to us, it’s also taking the time to observe what surrounds us, see the “sleeping woods” slowly wake around us in the spring to give way to summer and the one with which we share a new everyday existence: my duck “Quacko”.

The work of the muralist Annie Hamel recalls the role of the thirty-six first Filles du Roy (King’s Daughters) – all named on the sixth dress – in the implantation and blossoming of a colony in New France and, particularly, in Ville-Marie (now Montreal). Eight paintings, painted on the dresses of the first eight Filles du Roy to arrive in Montreal, tell the story of these women.

This photograph is about the mental health struggles that come from being isolated and alone. Photography has always been a way for me to stay connected to others in a time where social distancing is required. When we are all separated together, we come to realize how much we rely on one another.

I chose this image because it is one of my favourites reminding me of home, my roots, where I grew up and where I first learned to express my world through the camera’s viewfinder. The prairie is one part of a vast and beautifully diverse landscape I enjoy as a Canadian in Canada.

This image is part of an open series of darkroom experimentations. Compositions made using everyday objects are exposed on photo paper using a single direct light. This image was chosen because it evokes transformation and the loss of bearings in these particular times.

This photo is an emblematic image of the village of Alma with its harbour at low tide.

This image raises critical questions about the nature of our connected world, and the complex ways individuals experience loneliness, isolation, and seclusion within a regulated response to the life-endangering pandemic COVID-19. Although the solitary subject is placed in a familiar surrounding, they face an immensity of space devoid of others. This scene is a critical reflection on our need for social interaction and travel.

I chose this image because to me it is an uplifting message. A celebration of living, the sense of joy held in a moment. I use the immediacy of photography to act within the moment because I am interested in capturing the fleeting glimpse, the energy, the irreversible light. I try to understand the connection that asks me to remember these places and things . . . the need to share it with others. Our connection of the human spirit transcends seas, language and borders. It is our connection of the human spirit that we share. Our shared values and desires to be at peace in the universe, to be happy, healthy and free is a commonality we dream and build on. The year 2020 has been challenging, this image reminds me there is light at the end of tunnel, there will be moments of joy. I hope to evoke a contemporary vision of memory and consciousness and hope everyone can find their own positive allegory and carry it with them.

Moncton, a multifaceted welcoming city, a little chic, very choc (oh là!), passionately chiac, it gradually wins you over. A drama queen rocking to the rhythm of the Petitcodiac tidal bore, a flag flapping in the wind and the cross of the deportation recalling the dark hours of your past, your future is bright because of your modernism and the wealth of your cultural openness. Captivating day and night, under the sun, the snow or before the storm it is difficult to resist your sometimes Franco, sometimes Anglo charm. Herein lies Acadian subtlety!

This is an image of a sunset captured at a local beach in Ontario called Ipperwash Beach. The sun is seen encapsulated partially by dark dramatic clouds, which are backlit by the sun just before it sets which gives an impression of our world during these times where people are distancing and have to wear masks when they appear in public. The presence of the clouds and the geographical location of the sunset cause to the vibrant yellowish red sky.

I chose this image as I felt this represents my world. Open space, nature, wild spaces, untamed land on Lake Ontario. Living in Ontario, we’re fortunate to be surrounded with a lot of land that remains untouched. This image was captured on the banks of Lake Ontario in the Greater Toronto area.
I wanted to show the natural side of this area. As Canadians we are so blessed to live in a country with so much nature. As our population grows the amount of untouched area is lessening. I chose this photo to submit as I wanted to show some of the natural area that still exists, even in such a highly populated area as the Toronto region.

To make Deux mètres, I chose to highlight the beauty of the wide-open Canadian spaces and nature, which I had lost contact with since the beginning of lockdown. The two lines on the ground going as far as the eye can see represent social contact despite the distancing, the fact that despite these difficult times, we will stay together to combat isolation.

(Photo sent to my family and my close friends) The quarantine redefined the distances between us. It’s as though an ocean suddenly isolated all of us, then linked us again. More than ever, we remain in contact with letters, packages, images, videos, messages and calls.

Newfoundland. One night at the foot of the Tablelands during a snowstorm when it was -18°C. For me, it expresses the beauty and grandeur of the Newfoundland landscapes, as well as the harshness of the Canadian climate.

Canada is a massive and varied land. It’s extremely diverse socially and physically with countless special places. The west coast of Vancouver Island in British Columbia is one of those places and it is home to Pacific Rim National Park. You don’t just visit this park, you “feel” it. From the waves crashing on rocky volcanic headlands and sandy beaches, to walking among the giant trees that are hundreds of years old in the old-growth forests, to seeing dozens of species of wildlife in the water, in the air, and on the land, you truly have to experience it to understand the spirit of this land. This photo represents not only the ancient First Nations history present in this mystical place, but also some of the important animals that live here, and the incredible physical beauty of the environment they live in.

At one time, before major logging, the mighty and large Douglas Fir (3 metres or more in diameter and 100 metres tall) was predominant everywhere in what is now called the Vancouver Regional District. It currently survives as much smaller second growth in tiny refugia such as Lighthouse Park.

This image is a response to racial attacks against East-Asian Canadians due to Covid-19. During the pandemic, I rarely go out, but when I have to go out, I always wear a mask, big sunglasses, and a big hat to hide my Chinese physical characteristics to avoid being targeted. I am not afraid of physical attacks, but more verbal attacks because sometimes words hurt more than swords. I want to address this issue with humor because humor helps me process my fear and pain. I do hope all Canadians stand together in condemning racist acts and build a truly multicultural society that is grounded in inclusiveness and respect for diversity and human dignity we all deserve.

A photo taken in front of our house, in Trois-Rivières, on the occasion of an online artistic event, Light-Windows, organisé par le Center for the Holographic Arts de New York (http://holocenter.org/) pendant le confinement mondial.
Tout rassemblement et toute exposition étant interdite, il s’agissait de faire valoir la lumière à la fois comme forme d’art et comme forme d’espoir et de ralliement international à travers une sculpture de bouteilles en plastique et un hologramme.

As an act of solidarity between citizens in Montreal, the phrase “ça va bien aller” accompanied by a drawing or painting of a rainbow, was displayed in many storefronts and windows of personal homes throughout the COVID-19 lockdown. This breath of positivity was a welcome message for many and a reminder that storms will pass. This particular photo was taken just a few steps from my home in the Verdun borough.

My daily walk through the industrial part of East Vancouver to my artist studio was always full of sounds, smells and apprehensiveness of danger within this part of the city.
My first walk after the quarantine was a step into the magical stillness of silence and natural beauty. Everything looked different but the same. I feared the absence of people and their possible presence as well. I’m offering this image as a reminder that once you embrace constraints, there is beauty everywhere.