The violins remain silent. Cellos too.
They are resting. Nursed. Coddled.
In the heart of Artistic Montreal.
In a little workshop.
Bertrand. Olivier. André.
Work in the shadows.
They plane. Burn. Weave. Carve. Paste. Sand.
Slowly. Ca... >>
A contact? A care ? A massage ? A human touch.
With a twinkle in his eye. His hair disheveled. He waits his turn.
His body in pain. Bruised by the street. By the years. By the cold.
Like many people experiencing homelessness.
For a morning. F... >>
“Each movement. Each Word. Each action: We could find a way to improve it. Could you help me do it?” Ninjas students and their model instructor answer to each other.
On his wall to wall tatami.
Stéphane Meunier lights up calmly some incense.
Approximately 3 million people died during the Crusades.
Torsos pierced. Arms chopped. Heads crushed.
Behind every weapon used to kill soldiers or civilians is a Weapon Smith.
Eyal Azerad is a modern bladesmith.
Broken Bodies. Foggy Souls. Women pull a heavy medieval door.
Men come here too. Seeking some rest. Some human kindness.
Sheltered from the street.
Side by side.
They can finally be themselves.
On the look-out no more.
Marie-Claude is tak... >>
Little Jesus’ ears are roaring.
700 bikers are snoring their motorcycles at his feet.
Overlooking the city of Montreal.
What are bikers doing on the steps of a church?
What are Freemasons doing in the parking lot of Jesus?
The citizens took the street.
Today, they are pounding the pavement.
Looking for affordable housing.
In the battle of Hochelaga.
Parents, children, grandparents.
Welfare recipients, workers, homeless people.
Members of the same community.
A bunch of guys. A bunch of girls.
Looking for a trip. A return to childhood.
Retro gaming. Retro memories.
Around Street Fighter II. Classic.
Ken. Ryu. Guile. Chun-Lee.
They’re all here.
In the corner of a bar. In Montreal.... >>