By Patrick La Roque
So here we are. This will be my last post for the Chronicle 90 project, as the experiment comes to a close in a few days. There will be a necessary post-mortem in the weeks ahead, discussions about the results and how each of us dealt with the project’s premise. But we’re not quite there yet.
I spent Friday on the streets of Montreal as part of a 3-day workshop, flexing my eye while discussing photography. I’m not fond of this city anymore. Part of it is the common fatigue that stems from living somewhere your entire life, but I’m used to shaking off that sort of familiarity. No, my feelings go deeper. Montreal is a city destroyed, gaping and boarded up. It’s a promise repeated but never realized, in a constant state of re-assembly, choked by construction sites where no one ever seems to work. Where barricades fall on sidewalks and orange cones multiply like some infectious disease, gnawing at the broken skin.
I should document this reality but I can’t. I’ve tried many times over—it never works. The scope never translates. So I keep framing up and around the scars, looking elsewhere. Hoping we’ll eventually get our city back.