Seeing Through Glass, Plastic and Ice
BY Matthew Hollett
When I signed up for my first photography class in art school, my dad rummaged around in the basement and placed a heavy leather case in my hands. I unbuckled it to find his old 35mm camera, a Zenit EM. It had an enormous dent above the lens, as if it had deflected a bullet, and its selenium light meter, mysteriously, did not require batteries.
Setting, Sawing, Shooting, Boiling and chiseling
BY John Graham
“THAT’S THE LAST EVENT that you do to complete the circle of events that take place in the Labrathon. And that is probably one of the big challenges at the…
Canada on The Rails
BY Melissa Barbeau
SHE CARRIED A POCKETKNIFE, of course. A multi-tooled contraption with a blade, but also a fork and a spoon, a corkscrew, a tiny fold-out ruler, a level, a bottle opener….
The Codfish Splitting Machine
BY Matthew Hollett
IN THE FALL 1922 ISSUE of Newfoundland Quarterly, anchored between a lament for the drowning of a local businessman and a brief history of Puerto Rico, I found a curious article titled “The Iron Splitter for Dressing Codfish.”
How a Small Newfoundland Town is Saving Canada’s Urban Middle Class
BY Gary Newhook
WE JUST WANTED TO OWN SOMETHING, even if it wasn’t in BC.
The Southside Hills in History and Song
BY Matthew Hollett
I’M NOT SURE who first referred to them as the “Dear Old” Southside Hills, or if anyone still calls them that. Possibly the name went out of fashion when the huge oil tanks were built. But the nickname seems to have stuck for a while in the early 1900s, a curious term of affection for the imposing hillside that gives shape to St. John’s Harbour.