CEREMONY  is an independent poetry project turned collective experiment in collaboration.





Community

Stephen Attong








KEY WORDS


people, feel, work, photographer, artists, cool, ttc, audience, create, bio, career, thinking, making, framing, spotlight, materials, film, friends, point, music, earn, dance, world, practice

Stephen Attong is a Trinidad-born, Toronto-based photographer (b.1994). His work explores the sentimentality in public spaces. From amusement parks to quiet moments with friends, hidden beneath playful colours and structures is deep contemplation of shared experiences. He intends to enable viewers to relate to, recall or imagine their own memories in his work. Often inspired by screenplays and cinema, Attong explores how these experiences, perspectives, and ideas can co-exist through the common anchor of a still image.



This conversation took place in January 2023.











KT

Okay, so - how do you spend your day?



SA

My Tuesdays to Saturdays I’m at Superframe on Geary. The good thing about that is that I am surrounded by artists. I think I'm lucky in that regard; my day job sort of supplements my artistic practice outside of work. And it's cool to see artists that factor in framing as part of their practice. Framing becomes an extension of their work. A Toronto Artist, Winnie Truong, incorporates frames into her artwork; the frames feel like part of the pieces.



KT

Yeah, when you want to preserve something, there's a beautiful way to do that through framing.



SA

Yeah, some artists don't take into account how difficult their work might be to handle in framing or just in installation in general. I feel like artists who are maybe "emerging," it's hard to have the resources to research the proper materials that you might need. Their main goal might just be to make the piece look as good as it can, even if it's for one show, and to get their name out there. It's like a fast fashion version of an art exhibition. H & M is like, "Okay, this week, we'll have these clothes, and it'll be in the display, it'll be nice. Someone will buy it. And then we'll do something else the next week." A lot of artists have to take that approach because of a lack of funding or needing to show people online that they are doing something, whatever it may be.

People digesting those images online aren't going to think of how well made the artwork is; they're just gonna think, oh, that's a cool show. That's a cool piece. It’s more of an audience viewing it rather than an industry dealing with the materials in hand. It goes into audience versus community, and which is more important to you. Some people get the two confused, audience and community. I can't remember where I heard of it, but when it's an audience, you're essentially talking at them. Their role is mainly to digest or listen. You aren't bouncing ideas off of them, you are giving your idea to them, and they will probably discuss it amongst themselves, but they won't tell you; there’s no feedback.

It's cool to keep in mind the difference between the two and at what part of the spectrum you see yourself in. It’s tough to actually feel both. And people like to see people who like to be in the spotlight because they are like, oh, I wish I was brave enough to do this. But striking that balance is really tough for people. If you are someone who has a big audience, and then you suddenly switch, people are gonna think it's phoney or ingenuine, or you're just doing it to gain more traction. And then, if a community-based person switches, people will ask, why are you selling out?



KT

Yeah, there's something always missing. It's either I wish I was more connected, or I wish I had more of a following. And as you said, we're taught to admire the spotlight. We're constantly told you can't be happy with a community-based practice or your goal should always be to grow your audience.

I have a friend who's a comic and writer who is doing stand-up shows and just finished one short film. We were talking about her dreams and her wanting to be further along in reaching them. I was like, you're performing live, and you literally just finished making a movie! It's all happening. But we were talking about that idea of getting to a point where you're in the spotlight, and that’s when you know you’ve "made it." But it’s all relative, and I think it’s maybe one of those myths because, during the whole process, you're practicing art, doing what you love, and meeting new people. You are building your community.



SA

I like to think of all of the moving parts of production. In my world, there's a photographer, an assistant, a lighting assistant, a stylist, all this stuff. When someone is career-driven, they probably like to view themselves as the glue to everyone. I'm trying to rewire this thinking.

Usually, I think I am the glue, and this is the team around me that is making something. At the same time, in the stylist's mind, they might think they are the glue, and everyone is helping create their vision. Each person probably feels a percentage of that feeling. When the actual image comes out, the audience is like, okay, the person that is photographed is the glue. No one actually has that title at the end of the day. We are all in service to whatever medium it is. The "star" of the show is different for different people.

If one of my favourite photographers posts something, I'm like, okay, they did that. That's cool. That's sick. Yeah, but, say, a stylist posted. I'm like, okay, that stylist did this; that's cool. Or, if I'm a fan of the actor. Like, okay, that actor did.... it always changes based on the viewer's interests. It's good to never forget that you're basically in service to whatever craft it is instead of being like, this is “my team.”


KT

It sounds like death to everyone's egos, you know? Seeing that what you're making is bigger than you, always. It might have started with your vision initially, but then when people are open to coming on, not because it's gonna advance them career-wise, I mean maybe that's a bonus, but because they see what you're doing and want to be a part of it, or want to create things with other like-minded people.

I think that that is missing from a lot of spaces, and maybe why certain arts communities can feel more competitive. Obviously, with the cost of living, we have to think about certain realities and career goals, but yeah, my favourite projects are always the ones that people did for "nothing" because it was towards a bigger vision.

There are so many things in what you just said that I am ruminating on, especially how much we see ourselves in other people's work. That's our access point. For you, you see a photographer, but for a model or actor, they see a model or actor and the same for makeup artists, stylists, directors, and set designers. There are so many access points and ways of seeing work. There are so many roles, and none are paramount over the other. Everyone's the glue.




SA

Yeah. I like to make a parallel between the day of a shoot and a match day for a sports team. Every single player has their strengths. One person might be really good at art direction, so that's, that's how they're gonna help people see differently. The makeup artist might be a people person, so they make everyone feel comfortable, and then there's that one person who will be like, I'm gonna grab coffees and get food. Every person has their role, and there's no pecking order. Yeah, we're all making something.


“It's good to never forget that you're basically in service to whatever craft it is instead of being like, this is ‘my team.’”
– Stephen Attong

KT

Yeah, there are so many different ways we create and communicate, whether it's through makeup, photo, or design, and we can create spaces where people can flourish and want to be around other people who are different than them and valued. It's like, oh, you create differently than me? Cool, tell me about it!


SA

I love it when I have a close friend who is into something far removed from what I normally watch or interact with. I feel like this might be part of how I try to help a friend feel seen. Show me the stuff you enjoy. Maybe when I understand it better, I might enjoy it too. It's fun to have different people in your life with different passions who let you into their world for a bit. Then who knows, I might take a tidbit from that world and apply it to my own.

I like different interests to cross-pollinate. Making a sports reference and applying it to photography makes photography more enjoyable. Thinking of the shoot day as a game day; that's when everyone has to perform. Or the week leading up to it, those are the final training sessions because you're making sure your lighting is good and your stuff is charged. That's all training effectively. I'll apply some of my running jargon to career stuff. If I want to qualify for this marathon, I need to put in this amount of work. An example for me would be if I want to get signed by an agency, I have to put in this amount of work.

The good thing with sports references, in general, is the end goal will come, whether or not you're prepared. That helps ease my anxiety about career stuff. A lot of the time, thinking about work or your career, you wonder if that day will come. You feel like you're preparing for something that might or might not happen.

In sports, you're preparing for the game, it will happen. You have to get ready; there's no option to do something else. There's another team that you're gonna face, so you have to come correct. Whereas work, it's up in the air. That re-framing grounds me to work towards this thing. And the day will come; it might not be in six months, but it might be in 18 months.


KT

Yeah, it's learning to enjoy the process and practice. You're developing your craft and yourself, and perhaps that's a lifelong and everyday thing that looks different for everyone. And when the day you're waiting for comes, it's just another step in the process. There's always another game or championship up ahead.



SA

Yeah, you just reminded me I saw a tweet that said how you spend your days is essentially how you spend your life. I feel like a lot of people during the week go through the motions, and then they're like, okay, can I have fun now? And so, work is like 75% of your life? Whereas if you insert fun things into the same workday, both before and after work, then that percentage decreases in terms of what you actually spend your life doing.

It was one of those mind-blown emojis. How I spend my days is how I spend my life? Fuck. I need to rearrange what I actually do in one day so there is some sort of equilibrium or balance. Obviously, we live in a world where we need money to live, and there is a good feeling that comes with being productive. I earned my keep. But at the same time, that's not how a human is really meant to live. Apart from looking at the past 500 years, we aren't really supposed to be grinding our lives away just to live.

















KT

Yeah, I think that hits on something really pure. People are happiest when they can express themselves and be themselves. We live most of our lives turning the volume down on our true selves. The weekend is when we can actually be with the people we love and have our free time. It's sad the percentage that is in comparison to the week.


SA

Yeah, I think there is value in working hard towards something, but I think we've created, not specifically us, but humans have created a world where the end goal for that work is always monetary. And then money gives you access to whatever, nice food, nice, etc, etc. Which is in some way fulfilling or relieving. It just helps you stay afloat. Whereas, in your artistic practice, or any sort of career-driven thing, you might be trying to get better at a craft or reach a certain expertise to convey some sort of message, and you want to tell a story.

I think that story-telling is absent from most workplaces. The closest thing to it might be if you work in marketing but you're telling a story to sell something. Obviously, it can be done in fun ways. I do enjoy it when something has good marketing behind it, but mostly because there is a lot of image-making in that process.

That might be the closest cross-section of art and commerce we have, branding and marketing. It might be a happy medium between community and audience. A big marketing campaign is the largest audience that you could think of. If you do a campaign for Coca-Cola, that's billions. At the same time, you have the opportunity to say something really powerful because of that audience. Maybe the two things could work in tandem sometimes.


KT

Yeah, every role could be creative. It's just a time limitation or having a manager who encourages you and supports you in making your job more enjoyable or meaningful. How we can support people doing that would be an interesting exploration.


SA

Yeah, I think there is a lot of creativity in everyday jobs. If you’re a server or you work in coffee, customer service, or retail, the way you arrange pastries could be your own little exhibition or how you pour a glass of wine. You can make it a performance, and you could somehow create a story within the framework that your boss has given you.

Even e-mail. I can't remember the origin, but I saw a really funny thing online of people trying to make new email send-offs, but really jarring ones. Like, Ice Cold Regards. Or, instead of Best, you just say Worst. Yeah, it's funny.




KT

*laughs* That's amazing.

Okay, so you're a photographer. Say more about where that fits into your every day.



SA

I’ll share when it fit into my daily life in a more practical way. This was years ago, but I used to buy TTC Metro passes every month to have unending rides. There were days I would eat breakfast, hop on the TTC and spend the entire day walking. I'd choose a spot, say, for instance, the beaches. I’d walk for two hours, get lunch there, walk for another two hours and then TTC back home.

The first time I fully moved up [to Toronto] was in 2017. That was the closest thing to a routine I had, riding the TTC, taking photos, exploring. That was how I got to know Toronto, or how I felt I got to know Toronto's people before knowing many people.

That's how I liked interacting with the city. People who are new to a city tend to try and make X amount of friends to feel like they belong. I took the approach of needing to see the city as clearly as possible. I guess, looking back on it, I was documenting what I was seeing.


KT

Yeah, that approach is close to the opposite of what people in Toronto do. I feel like people know Torontonians as their neighbourhoods. They get to know their neighbourhood super well and end up not leaving it. It's a sign of a tourist when they're willing to take the TTC across the city just for a day trip, every day or just for fun.


SA

Yeah. Time constraints make it virtually impossible to get back to doing that now, but that practice made me appreciate the city. I essentially begged my parents to let me move back up after I had graduated from U of T. I didn't know how else I could come back. I couldn’t think of another pathway and didn't have anyone I could ask. So when I moved back up, I was reminding myself this is what I asked for. This is not something to be taken for granted.

I think that pushed me, especially in late 2017 and 2018, to fully immerse myself in Toronto as a city. I’m yearning for that again. I felt like I had this insatiable need to take as many images as I could every day. But now I'm at the point where if it's not a paying gig, I'm not taking my camera. I've reached that jaded point. I always reminisce about being wide-eyed and having that energy to go out and create stuff.

Now my day is structured; run in the morning, work, you know? It's just a full-fledged adult instead of someone who just graduated. And thinking if it's not paying, it's not worth it; that whole mindset has left me feeling stagnant. Technically, one or two gigs a month is better value than three months of just taking photos for yourself; but at the end of the day, it’s less fulfilling. How do I do both? It’s hard while also working full time. You kind of don't see people speak about that online. They just say this is something that we've done. They don't talk about the hard work that goes into it or the balancing act.

Before, I used to call myself a photographer. Now I'm just like, I work at this place, and I do photography when I can. It feels like you lose some of yourself along the way when you want to be more financially stable. Doing freelance full-time is really stressful. I don't understand how people do it. But at the same time, that fire in your belly is there when you rely on your art form to survive. It's like you're not only surviving financially, you're also surviving emotionally, mentally, spiritually. I feel like I'm surviving financially, but everything else kind of ebbs and flows in a pretty uneven way. On a day off, I'm like, oh, I want to go take photos. But right now, I don't have my “ideal camera.” So I'm like, I won't do it. That just turns into weeks and weeks and weeks of not making any stuff, and then it piles up.

Consistency is something I need to put back into my life so I can actually own that photographer title in a better way. But I struggle with labelling because I'm not one thing. I make other things, and a lot of my hobbies are also identifiers. Right now, I have goals in running and am a runner. Because of work, I am a framer. That is part of what I do every week. I am a soccer player. I am all of these things. I don't know if anyone can relate to this, but the idea of distilling all of that into one bio just haunts me every day. I can't decide which bio represents me more than the 10 Emojis I pick. Literally, like, if Apple didn't create these emojis, I don't know. My bio would just be blank.

I feel like the ig bio is a microcosm of the insecurity you might feel in labelling yourself. There might have been a point in the past where I’m like, yeah, I'm a photographer; this is what I do; I feel empowered to say that to people. Whereas now, there are so many different things that I pick and choose based on the person I'm interacting with.


KT

Bios are so hard because they're not for you. We don't think about our best friends understanding our bios because we know that they know us. They know the complexities; they know all these different things that make us who we are, what goes into our art and what we do. But for people who don't know us, a bio feels so loaded because how can I possibly explain everything I do? And yeah, maybe I spend most of my time doing this thing, but I don't really identify that as being the most important thing to me. How do you communicate that?

And then it's about perception too. If I say this, then will that person have expectations of how often I practice that thing? I feel that way with dance. It's something I did every single day when I was younger. Now, not so much. But it's still very much a part of me. But I feel like an imposter saying I'm a dancer because I'm not a “professional” dancer.

Being able to say this is who I am; this is what's important to me, and get to a place where it's not impacted by whether or not another person believes it. You can't get to that place quickly; everything takes time. You just hope that people interacting with your work see it as an invitation to get to know you better and understand you more over the long term. It's allowing people to be a lot more complex and giving them grace too.


SA

When someone suddenly switches lanes, I used to be that person who was like, oh, all of a sudden, they're a photographer? They bought this expensive camera all of a sudden? But how else are you gonna get into photography?






“Maybe other artists in big cities could relate because everyone has a hometown. How do I honour that home, even if I'm not physically there?”
– Stephen Attong


KT

Yeah, and how much don't we see before someone shares something? I know, for me, writing for a long time was something I kept so private. Then by the time I showed it to other people, it was as if “all of a sudden,” I started writing. But it was something I had done my whole life in private. This is another challenging part of social media or a bio. There's just so much we don't see, and we fill in the blanks, often with misinformation or judgement.



SA

I think this is me projecting on people, but I think the happiest people on social media, artists specifically, just have a website and no bio. Literally, they just don't give a shit. If you want to see my world, you just click that link. The cool thing with websites is you can't see metrics if you're a visitor. You just see what this person wants to share. With social media, you see all the likes, and you see which of your friends follows this person, which also factors into whether you decide to follow a person's work. But a website is like creating your own little house.



KT

Yeah, I was talking with friends about this the other day, too. Back in the day, Tumblr, or Myspace, when people had their own websites and linked their friends' websites, or bands did that sometimes, and then you keep clicking through and following this rabbit hole. It was in such a different way than Instagram.



SA

I still maintain my Tumblr, relatively, but I don't really engage with any notifications. It is a purer form of image discovery. Same with Pinterest. You're just exploring people's work. It's like Instagram, but it removes some social currency. It feels like you're a kid discovering candy. You're on a treasure hunt, and you're finding cool things that you want to save for later.

That might be the area of photography that I find myself most active in now, looking at other images people have made and being inspired by them, not necessarily to recreate them but to analyze them and to see the medium trends. It’s fun to interact with an art form you call yourself a creator of and then be a cultural commentator there. Without people deciphering stuff, you don't have culture or connoisseurship.

Fran Leibovitz said in an interview that the New York City Ballet was incredible, not only because of the dancers but because of the crowd. The crowd were all connoisseurs, and they discussed the ballet as if it were a life-or-death situation. They were breaking down everything that happened. You go in, and everyone is willing to talk with you for five hours about ballet.

I get a similar feeling when I'm on film Twitter. A movie comes out, and you see discussions happening; this is why I don't like this; this is the reason I like this. That discussion, in itself, makes me feel more connected to the world of filmmaking. At least in the online circles I'm in, they're discussing, analyzing, and breaking down the script. It's really cool to be in communities where there’s such a rich discussion.



KT

Yeah, when it's constructive, totally.


SA

Yeah. And there are vials you could find, but you can tell at the core of most of these people talking, they just love cinema, or whatever it is. They're always excited to see new stuff being made in that world. I think Instagram is pretty bad for discourse in terms of a platform for people to talk and have discussions.



KT

Yeah, to your point, even if you really dislike a film, if you love film-making, it's gonna be an interesting conversation with somebody. You're looking to have growth through that conversation; let's talk about choices and filmmaking and why you would choose something I wouldn't. It’s a much richer conversation, as opposed to when people have no horse in the game, and they're acting as if their opinion needs to be taken so seriously or as if it’s so personal when they really don't care. I think that's where there are these offshoot communities that spend so much energy and time shit-talking or whatever it is. It's like, why?


“There are so many access points and ways of seeing work. There are so many roles, and none are paramount over the other. Everyone's the glue.”
– KT



SA

Yeah, it's choosing to be loud about something you love instead of being loud about something you hate. I feel like a lot of people, that is their online personality: I dislike these five things and I'm gonna tell you about that.


KT

Yeah, I think this happens more in music and film but you might have a friend who likes a film that, for the life of you, you can't understand why. It reaches a point where you love the fact that they like this ridiculous film or album.


SA

And you can dislike things without judging them. I mentioned a quote earlier, “I'm a hater, but not a gatekeeper.” You're allowed to have your tastes and opinions, but it's when all of a sudden, there are these judgment gates up, and no one else can enter the conversation and if you do, you're gonna get bullied. As opposed to people who all love and respect a craft. I might dislike choices that a creator or person made; however, we're not battling. It's just like, let's talk about this because we love it.


KT

I do this with pop music all the time. I can't explain why I love most top 40 songs. My super musical friends are like, this is embarrassing. And I'm like, it's a bop.






SA

It's funny when you are committed to any sort of fandom, you reach a point where you end up roasting that thing that you love. You feel like you have the authority and you've earned your right. You go through this phase of, oh, I'm obsessed with this thing; this is incredible. Then it gets to a point where you also can see the flaws in it, and then you're like, why the hell do I love this? But I still love it. And then you just reach a point where it's fun to roast the person who has created this thing.




KT

I feel like you just described falling in love. Yeah, the year mark of a relationship, you start to see someone's true colours, but you're like, I still love you.


SA

Yeah, end of the honeymoon phase, and you earn the right to roast this partner now. My partner's the only person allowed to roast me.


KT

Yeah, yeah.


SA

I think it’s also a good indicator of someone who is self-reflective. I feel like if you could openly be critical of the things that you love and where they go wrong, or even the people you love, it holds us accountable.



KT

Yeah, finding that balance. If you love something, you want it to progress. Instead of loving something and wanting it to stay the same. I've heard people talk about how important relationships are because we can't truly perceive ourselves or the impacts of our intentions or actions sometimes. Having people who love you so much that they're willing to hold you accountable is the greatest gift that close friends can give you. To actually care enough about you to want to see you grow.

If you're alone, you can create this little bubble that only validates you. That's where you get into cult-making, as an extreme example. When you see people revered, and those who love them can't say anything critical about them and just defend them to the death, it gets dangerous. We have to be critical of each other. We're all fallible humans.

I'm thinking about on-set, where people get reputations for being the only glue. Everyone is to serve them and their vision. I’m thinking about how that makes people around them feel. Again, we're taught to feel like, oh, that person's right for putting me in my place. I should look up to them. It creates this idea that if I work harder, I'll finally be seen as an equal to this person.




SA

And it's really damaging to be in an environment like that. Once you start to get accustomed to it, you're gonna start to be apprehensive when someone actually approaches you with softness. You're so accustomed to eight hours of your day having rocks thrown at you by your boss. So when someone actually approaches you in a gentle way, you're not going to be receptive to it. Because you're expecting to have to be in that defence mode all the time.



KT

Totally. We know what we know. And then, we repeat those patterns in all of our relationships. We learn, for better or worse, how relationships are supposed to function. Even if I don't feel very good in this relationship, if it's all I know relationships to be, then that's how I think I should feel in all of my relationships. Feeling good might be a trigger for people; they might not trust it.

And you shouldn't really have to worry about earning respect from another human. I think that's a big thing in many workplaces, the idea of earning your keep in terrible conditions. There’s something to be said about consistency and commitment, but then there’s crossing the line.



SA

Yeah, being consistent in your practice; instead of trying to make these astronomical leaps, I think that can be applied to most practices. If I do some sort of thing related to photography every day for an hour, that's better than if Friday was my only photography day. All the pressure would be on that one day. If you wake up not feeling good that day, then what? If you don't meet what your expectations were, then you feel down for the next week.

I feel that way with running too. If I go five days and each day is a chill, easy run, that feels better than a week without running. The consistency feels better, physically, mentally, than if you have a massive peak and some massive valley. I think it is worth it to try and implement that in many aspects of life. Consistency. It doesn't need to be greatness.

I think we get fed a lot of things that are great. We see a lot of things that are great. Instead of the ways those people create and how they are consistent every day. You'll never see the daily routine of an incredibly famous director or whatever. Same with a Michelin star chef.


“I mean, it took how many years, but it feels good to reach that point where you're not shrinking a part of yourself. The beautiful thing about a place like Toronto is that you can find your interests represented in a lot of different forms.”
– Stephen Attong





KT

Yeah, you only hear about them once they've already gained momentum.


SA

And I think to implement that in your own life, the only way to do that is to just show up. Just showing up, in my mind, earns you five points. You already get a 50% pass if you just show up. That's probably the most difficult part, too.


KT

Totally, building that habit.




SA

If I'm going on a run, the hardest part is waking up early, you know? Getting my shoes on.


KT

Yeah, once you have your shoes on, you're going.


SA

Yeah, once I'm out the door, I know I'm doing it. I think, especially for people who are wanting to get into more creative fields and might feel stuck, there is a lot of value in learning about what you want to get into every day. Eventually, you will find a breakthrough. Or, you will have a friend of a friend who also works in the space, and then you make a connection, and it will come. Showing up is the only way to, in my mind, basically guarantee someone else is gonna see what you do.


KT

Yeah, regardless of what that thing is, so long as you're putting work in, you're gonna get better. There's something amazing about practice and just doing something over and over; you will get better.


SA

Yeah. And there are multiple versions of getting better, too. I think we tend to forget that it's not linear. Sometimes I'm like, the next step is to do a campaign for this brand, whatever. I'm telling myself I have the skill set; I just need someone to open the door. But at the same time, I might be improving at curation or thinking about ways to present work that serves the message I'm trying to convey better than said campaign would. Reminding yourself is tough, but it gives you a sense of relief to know the goal is not only one thing. There are things to be learned even if you stray from a path.


KT

Totally, and to not compare ourselves to other people's paths when yours looks different. A good tip I was told is to set attainable goals that don't rely on somebody else's acceptance, like celebrating finishing the grant and submitting it, not only celebrating if you get it; that's just so far out of your hands. Especially when it comes to granting selections or whatever, it’s sometimes not even about the work itself. Don't put your worth in somebody else's hands; celebrate submitting the grant.

I didn't realize that so many people did this, but you don’t have to wait for approval; design the set yourself. You've done this a lot, too. Just get a group of people together and make something in a field today.


SA

Running podcasts always talk about focusing on controlling what you can control. You know your body best, you know how certain shoes feel, you know what you want to wear on a race day. Obviously, you have so many people around you in a race it's hard to not look at someone else and be like I should keep up with this person. But controlling what you can control is a good thing to do in everyday life. You wake up, you have a day off, what can I do for myself that will either advance my practice or make me feel good about life?

Usually, there are multiple things. I could walk to this spot, I could get a coffee because I haven't done it in a while, and that would make me feel good. I could go to this gallery, I could view work in person. I could go to the reference library, I could read books. Those are all things no one else can take away from you in that moment. I think that's really valuable.

When you start to get into the business side, or “the industry” of whatever craft you're in, there are so many moving parts, and you're waiting on approval. You're waiting for a green light from somebody who is a financier. They are not even an artist; they just have the resources. Sitting down and asking yourself, what can I do for myself right now that's totally in my control? I could pay $3.20, and I could end up in the Beaches, you know what I mean? I feel like the more you do that, the more you feel in control of your career. It's kind of like when Sonic gets his rings. Yeah, you're absorbing rings. Every time you do something for yourself, you are swallowing a ring. And you're just waiting for the end of the level, and then you have enough power to actually conquer that final.

Validation is obviously cool, and when you see people believing in what you could potentially do, that is fun. But, at the same time, that shouldn't be the end goal. That should be the cherry on the cake. There technically shouldn't be an end goal. I can't remember who was saying it, but say your dream is to get a show at the MoMA. You get the show, it's opening night, and then you get home. You're like, well, now what do I do? What is the next step? That feeling of not having something else to work towards will just debilitate you because you put all your energy into this one thing. And when you do that, you probably will achieve it, but it's only part of your story, not all.


KT

Yeah, it goes back to what you said about those high-pressure situations. There's just so much pressure on this one thing as opposed to spreading it out. Making goals a part of your life's work as opposed to this very isolated thing of worth.


SA

I think building a life's work is probably the coolest thing that you see an artist do. If I'm 85 years old and I look back, and I don't have a decade's worth of work that I've done, especially creatively, then I'd feel pretty unfulfilled. Obviously, there are other parts of life that fulfil you, kids, a family, etc. But having an equal amount of art you made is also really special. That whole body of artwork lives on with your family or friends long after you're gone.

That's the coolest way to think of mortality, and it not overwhelm you. Sometimes I'll be laying in bed and get really existential. I think, am I living to the fullest? Time is running out. Am I doing enough to create the life that I want? Should I be doing more? How will my life look when I'm 50? How will I feel when I'm 60? I'm obviously projecting in my mind, but it’s important to be dedicated to making what you are passionate about so that can also serve a purpose outside of yourself.

I feel a responsibility to have a message that relates to people from back home. I don't think I've really found that message yet, but it’s a goal of mine. How can I make work that a kid back in Trinidad could be like, okay, I can see myself in this person? Right now, my work is a mix of Toronto and Trinidad. I have two homes and basically two networks. Balancing that feels like two personalities. Maybe other artists in big cities could relate because everyone has a hometown. How do I honour that home, even if I'm not physically there?

I also have an imposter syndrome. There's a lot of guilt attached to it. I always say that I love where I'm from, but I'm not there, you know what I mean? I'm constantly trying to find a way to make work that says, I love where I'm from; it's just the opportunities were here.

Everyone knows Trinidad for dance, music, and food, but not for visual arts like filmmaking, and we have incredible filmmakers back home. We just don’t have an international platform. Latin America is starting to have this international voice in cinema and sound, and Central America to an extent. I feel like the Caribbean also needs to get up there. This might be the century that it happens. If I could have a role in helping that along, helping the train go faster, that would be fulfilling to know when I'm 85 years old looking back.

I like the idea of passing on expertise and knowledge. I have certain friends who double as mentors and colleagues, but I've never had someone from where I'm from. I have contemporaries who are the same age, and we're all trying to do something creative. It feels good to feel a tide rising. But I also feel a responsibility to be a part of a collective that can be a sounding board for kids who want to do the same thing. Maybe at first to help give them some cheat codes, shortcuts, so that they don’t have to go through as much as we have to, you know? As time goes on, that passing of knowledge will just continue. That, to me, is the final vision. You try to create a community where everyone has time for each other. Especially if they are from the same place that you are. You never close your ears to people trying to do the same thing or something adjacent.


KT

That makes me think of how often we're in places where we feel we need to erase part of our identity. Obviously, white supremacy and colonialism are the strongest drivers of that here, in North America. It’s so important to not only create spaces where multiple stories exist, take up space and have complexity and presence but also where we can exchange knowledge and pass that down. Language reclamation is also what I'm thinking of and the strength of verbal storytelling. Connections built through that are so much deeper than those we see when people are forced to be shells of themselves or to adhere to one way of being. That's such a cool journey to be on and to find allies who also want to see that vision come true.


SA

Yeah. I remember my first year at U of T, I thought I needed to assimilate into what I thought was Canadian culture. I bought a Maple Leaf’s hat, I bought all this Toronto sports team stuff thinking, this is a fast track. I started to keep up with hockey and these things that I thought were what a guy who's 18 does.

It's funny to look back on it because if I was back home with someone, I'd wear a Maple Leaf's shirt and think it was cool that I was part of another place’s norm. And no one in Trinidad knew who this player was. But I was pretending to enjoy a sport that I didn’t really care for, you know what I mean? I feel like now, I just celebrate the stuff that I personally love. If it falls into the culture of another place, I will celebrate that. I will celebrate the football culture that exists in Toronto because it's big and cool, and a lot of people our age are doing cool things.








“You try to create a community where everyone has time for each other. Especially if they are from the same place that you are. You never close your ears to people trying to do the same thing or something adjacent.”
– Stephen Attong


KT

Soccer, otherwise known.


SA

Yeah, soccer. *laughs*. So, I don't feel I'm removing a part of myself. I'm just celebrating something I grew up with that exists here too. I could easily fall into that community. Whereas, when I first came up, I thought I needed to enjoy the sports that had a bigger reach. And it feels good, man. I mean, it took how many years, but it feels good to reach that point where you're not shrinking a part of yourself. The beautiful thing about a place like Toronto is that you can find your interests represented in a lot of different forms.


KT

And to your point earlier, it's not to say you can't still have a conversation or find a point of connection with someone who is into hockey or whatever it is, but it might be a better connection, ironically, because you're curious about what the other is interested in instead of pretending or to prove something about yourself to fit in. I'm thinking of back in the day when you're young and you're looking at the bands somebody likes, and you're like, yeah, I know them for sure. When actually ... not at all.


SA

Yeah, like a crash course.





KT

Yeah, totally. And it's exhausting.


SA

Yeah, even with music too. Music is a big part of the culture of a place. When I'm not in Trinidad I listen to more Soca and Calypso than when I am in Trinidad. Listening to it here is more of an active resistance and a celebration. When I'm listening to it, I'm celebrating my people in my own way in my earphones, and it feels good. It makes me feel connected to home. I feel like music from places that are traditionally Western, American or Canadian musicians, unless it's a country artist, could essentially be from anywhere. In their lyrics, they're not like, I'm from Arizona. It's more, this is how I feel, or I'm at a club.

In hip-hop, obviously, the city you're from is big, and you hear that. I love hyperlocal references. In Soca, they're constantly saying: this is where I'm from, and this is why I like it; listen to what I have to say. That's why it feels like an act of resistance, I guess. Hip-hop is the only other genre I can think of where every song tells you about this corner store, this mall, whatever, which I love. The artist is specific because it's meaningful to them. They'll be like, this building is important to me; I'm going to talk about it. When you do that, you literally create importance around that one thing or that one town or city.

I feel like that's the one thing I'm jealous musicians have. To make something important visually, you might have to take a lot of photos of it and then show people. Then the audience will be like, okay, I guess that's important. In music, you can do that in a really cool way. It's hard to create a photograph that explicitly says, I am from this place, but it's not a photo of that place. That's where there's a visual language barrier, I think.





KT

Yeah, music has so many different access points. With writing, you're writing and hoping that when somebody reads it, they're immersed in that thing. It usually relies on one access point. That’s why I love to see and am inspired by people who approach those single access point mediums in creative ways. But with music, they are kind of built-in. You have lyrics, sound, live performances, tours, album art, videos, streaming services, and interviews. There are so many different access points where people can walk into your world. Also, I think people are more open to getting to know musicians from a lot of different angles, and they're sort of a center point to tell that story. You have to work a bit harder to find different ways of inviting people into visual exhibitions, and even then, there's maybe the one artist talk or something.


SA

And in film, too, you can never fully know a director. A lot of directors I find really mysterious, but that's probably because of the medium. The medium is so character-driven driven, and there are so many moving parts. You can see storytelling techniques a director likes, but to get to know them and where they are from as a person is so rare. I feel like photography has that same issue because it's so visual and conveys a message without traditional language. That's a skill I feel you have to hone in on and, probably a skill I need to spend more time honing. I usually find something I like and take a photo. That's it. I'm not thinking of it as an overarching story until maybe a year after, and then I'm like, oh shit, there's a theme.



KT

It's a bit subconscious.


SA

Yeah. It's always like, oh, this looks cool. I'll take a photo of it. Literally.


KT

Yeah, your intuition is telling you something is important to capture.


SA

Yeah, that's how simple it is, I guess. Some photographers we see, we might be like, this is so airtight; this is really intentional. But they could have also been like, this is cool, I'm gonna take a photo. Then, years after, they might realize, clearly, their mind was somewhere specific, and it's translating into the images they created. I feel like that's the point I'm at. I make stuff, and it might have a thread, instead of thinking of a thread first.


KT

Yeah, I find when we develop a stronger relationship with ourselves, you realize what’s always been there and are like, oh, all my photos convey this overarching theme. It's interesting to hear sometimes what onlookers, or friends or family, have noticed about you. And you're like, whoa, how did I not realize that was me? And then, once you’re aware of it, your work gets that much better, maybe? Yeah, or cohesive, or just more intentional.

That's also making me think, and this is a bit abstract, but visually, we're relying on people being comfortable with silence when they're taking in an image or film. It might feel unnatural to be in that silence since we've learned words are the best way to communicate or participate in something. With visual work or things that aren't written “clearly,” the work relies more on somebody being present, reflecting, sitting in stillness, and giving it space. The meaning isn’t told to them.

It's another cool part of making art, I can express my feelings without actually having to say them. I can process them in so many different ways. I could take a photo instead of saying exactly what this moment makes me feel, and maybe we don't have to talk about it, but we could look at this photo or watch this film together. How and what we share with each other is so expansive.



SA

Yeah, I need to ask myself how I'm feeling more when making images and have that inform what I'm attracted to on the street. Usually, I might feel a certain way, but I don't like to interrogate myself. Whereas if I start my walk, asking how am I feeling today? I'm feeling anxious about this, and this and this, and then my aim is to show this anxiety in a visual medium; I think that's a cool practice to have. Then that roll of film or that memory card, you're gonna look back at it and be like, yeah, I did feel this way, and I did come out on the other end.


KT

It's like journaling in a different way.


SA

Yeah, it's like a visual journal. For people who religiously journal, that's the reward: I'm jotting down my feelings, and I'm literally gonna come out on the other side stronger because I did this thing.


KT

And the presence it locks you into, journalling forces you to be in the moment.


SA

Yeah. I need to wash my brain of thinking, how will this thing look online? I even get caught up in the orientation of my camera. Sometimes I would like to use landscape, but I use portrait orientation. I'm thinking about how it will look online instead of how the image should be made. The archives of all of my work look lopsided because a bunch of stuff is portrait, but a lot of my favourite photographs are landscape. Thinking of how it's going to be viewed online warps the reasons you're even doing it. I feel a kind of jealousy of people who use social media just for personal stuff. It feels like they are free.



KT

Yeah. It's funny; I had the opposite feeling before. I'm like, oh, using it for personal just feels like a lot of pressure. But now that I only use it for creative reflections, I feel so much pressure. I can't share anything. I have an ongoing, changing relationship with social media, especially with algorithms always changing.


SA

Yeah. I think it is important to remember, unless you’re a digital artist, the final form of your work is probably not supposed to be on a four-inch screen. It could be in an arena. It could be in a gallery or the street. To remind yourself of that is valuable because the work will last longer. It’ll add longevity, and you will probably feel better about it.

It is fascinating how much space in our minds social media occupies.


KT

Yeah. Totally.


“Movement is something that I try to achieve in my work. I don't think I'm quite there yet. I find myself thinking of different scenes in different movies, the pacing that it has and how it can make everyday life more interesting.”
– Stephen Attong

SA

Like, you meet someone new, do I follow them now? And if so, do they follow me back? It's just so funny thinking of those dynamics and the social currency that comes with them. It also gives people an idea of you before they even meet you. When they meet you, they’re either like, you are what I thought you were, or they are disappointed.


KT

Or you’re just different, maybe. Yeah. Totally. I had this conversation about how people communicate a lot through DMs now, and that's the exchange of contact instead of phone numbers.


SA

There was a really funny Tweet the other day; it was like, if you want to reach me, don't email me. Just like the beacons of Gondor. If you wanna message me, yeah, just like the beacons. I'll see the beacon and reply. *laughs*


KT

That's so funny. Okay, last question to wrap this up. Is there a piece of media or song you have on repeat right now?


SA

Okay, it's not that recent, but the movie Spencer has a dance scene. It’s Kristen Stewart as Princess Diana, and it's a dance scene with no dialogue and classical music behind it. The score is incredible. But it basically goes through her life story. There's a part where she's in the same room as a young ballerina, and it hints at that being Diana before she was under public scrutiny. It's just her dancing through this castle, and it's someone's life as a dance. Seeing that on the big screen was incredibly moving, that one scene. I have it saved on my Mac, and I go back and rewatch it.

I find myself inspired more by film and moving images, in terms of things that I return to every day. Movement is something that I try to achieve in my work. I don't think I'm quite there yet. I find myself thinking of different scenes in different movies, the pacing that it has and how it can make everyday life more interesting.

When I think about dancing in Spencer, I think, how would this look for me if my life was portrayed as a dance? It’s a cool thing to think about. Sometimes when I'm on a run, I think of the music I'm listening to as my score. That's what a viewer would see me moving to. I love, in general, when there's a dedicated dance scene in a film and what that one scene represents. So yeah, I think everyone should go watch Spencer or YouTube the dance scene.


KT

I love that. Dance is such a cool point of interaction for so many people because it's something, I think, everyone does. Whether or not you're confident or comfortable doing it, whether in a dark place, in your bedroom, or at the club, moving in our bodies is so important. I love watching dancers who are so comfortable in their bodies. I’m always amazed at how they’re so in control but also so free. It's such a beautiful thing. And I love hearing people relate their craft to dance, like how you run with music. I have a friend who is obsessed with the same dance videos as me but his work is calligraphy and murals. He said he thinks of rhythm when he's drawing.


SA

Rhythm is a great way to describe it. When I'm running, I get into a rhythm with the music.


“It's hard to create a photograph that explicitly says, I am from this place, but it's not a photo of that place. That's where there's a visual language barrier, I think.”
– Stephen Attong

KT

And I guess that's the flow state that people say they have. Regardless of what it is you're doing, when you're in that flow state and so focused, there's a unique rhythm to you, and it's your form of dancing.


SA

Yeah. Seeing that on screen, I imagine everyone on set was working in tandem, and everyone was moving at the same beat to create it. They create magic, essentially. It's cool to think about and have that inform your own practice. I feel like dance is years of work perfecting a craft; then when you're doing your routine, you can let go and enjoy it.


KT

Totally, that muscle memory is there. You almost dance without thinking, but it takes so much thinking and practice to get to that point.


SA

Yeah, I think that's a really magical thing to witness, whether it's on stage or on screen, you know?


KT

Yeah, that's sweet. I'm gonna go watch that scene.


SA

Everyone should.












STEPHEN ATTONG


Stephen Attong is a Trinidad-born, Toronto-based photographer (b.1994). His work explores the sentimentality in public spaces. From amusement parks to quiet moments with friends, hidden beneath playful colours and structures is deep contemplation of shared experiences. He intends to enable viewers to relate to, recall or imagine their own memories in his work. Often inspired by screenplays and cinema, Attong explores how these experiences, perspectives, and ideas can co-exist through the common anchor of a still image.





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