What stories get remembered? Who decides what belongs in the archive? And what happens when artists revisit those histories through their own lived experiences?
Throughout August, five QTBIPOC artists have been exploring those questions as part of The Remix Residency: Queering Archives for Collective Liberation, presented by Cultivate Art Commons at the Tett Centre. Through photography, sound, research, storytelling, and visual art, the artists are examining how archives can be used to remember, challenge, reframe, and remix the past while imagining more liberatory futures.
We spoke with Gallery Administrator, Alyssa and each of the participating artists about archives, inspiration, family histories, and the stories shaping their work.
Alyssa Vernon
For someone discovering The Remix Residency for the first time, what is it all about and what makes this year's residency special?
What makes this year's residency special is that it's a residency made for and by queer, trans, Black, Indigenous, and people of colour artists, giving them space to remix histories and archives in ways that make sense within their own practices. This year is especially exciting because it's an all-Black, all-queer residency. You can really feel the energy. Everyone is grateful to be creating in a space with a tight-knit community, getting to know one another and working in ways that are rooted in shared experiences.
This is our second year running the residency, and we're interested in how archives can be queered in ways that centre our experiences. In a city like Katarokwi-Kingston, Blackness and queerness aren't always visible in the dominant narrative. We're here to remix those histories into the centre of the story and ask what that looks like through art. How can we represent the histories of our people, whether from the diaspora or locally here in Kingston, in ways that both celebrate and acknowledge those histories?
What does “remixing the archive” mean to Cultivate Art Commons, and why is that conversation important right now?
Remixing the archive is important not just to Cultivate Art Commons, but to a lot of artists right now. We're entering a moment where history is being questioned and where fact and fiction can feel increasingly blurred. It's important to acknowledge where things have actually come from so we can better understand our present and imagine a future where everyone is liberated, especially Black, trans, queer, and racialized communities.
For me, remixing the archive is about bringing those histories from the margins to the centre. It's about reminding people that we've always been here and that our art can be a call to action. It's not just about creating something beautiful. It's about encouraging people to think critically about where we've come from, where we've been, and where we want to go. Archives help us hold onto memory. There is a lot of purposeful losing of history happening in the world, and this work asks: How do we make sure people don't forget? How do we learn from the past instead of repeating it? How do we create a future where everyone is free and liberated? Archives are a big part of that conversation.
Noel Gebre
@dreamofnoeltheeritrean
What's caught your attention most as you've been digging into Katarokwi's histories?
I haven't had much chance yet to dig deeply into Katarokwi's histories specifically, so I've been thinking more about archives in general. What really interests me is the imagination that archives invite.
My proposal for this residency builds on a previous project where I used archives to create speculative fiction. Growing up in Calgary, I didn't see a lot of Indigenous representation in the city or its histories, and I felt similarly about Black Canadian history. Looking through photographs and articles, I started wondering what it would have felt like if those histories had been more visible, if Indigenous languages and cultures were more present in public spaces and everyday life.
Lately I've been exploring Eritrean archives, looking at old photographs and writing reflections about what I imagine might have been happening in those moments. There are so many things we don't know when we look at archives. I'm interested in those gaps and in imagining the stories that might live inside them.
How does looking at Kingston through these different histories change the map of the city for you?
One thing that stayed with me came from an Elder in my community named Maureen. She spoke about what it would be like to gather together and hold the land in both the present and the future. Settler colonialism has changed the landscape in ways that can't be undone, but we can still imagine different possibilities.
That's what I'm interested in when I think about archives. I want to bring together those historical records with what I see around me now. Through spaces like the Indigenous Food Sovereignty Garden and through community connections in Kingston, I already see pockets of joy, freedom, and liberation.
As a Black student at Queen's, I know I wasn't the first person to experience isolation or pushback in these spaces. Looking at the archive reminds me that people before me have made space for themselves, found joy, and built community. I want my work to connect those past struggles with what exists today and use both to imagine a hopeful future. I want to create something my community will be proud to experience and talk about.
Sian Borden
@sewnalaysia
What was it about that “badass” photograph of Kathleen Borden that made you want to build an entire artwork around her?
I found the photograph right before moving to Kingston. My family was gathered at my grandfather's wake in Nova Scotia, and we were going through old family photos, asking older relatives who everyone was. When Kathleen's photograph came up, I immediately thought, "Oh my God, she looks so cool." She lived from 1910 to 1934 and passed away very young after moving from Nova Scotia to Toronto. That's really all I know about her. But the photograph completely challenged my assumptions about what life in 1930s Toronto looked like. It genuinely shook my sense of the past. That feeling of discovering someone I had never heard about and realizing how little I knew about her made me want to work with the image. It felt connected to the residency's focus on archives and remixing history. I wanted to imagine all the incredible things she might have done and all the possibilities that existed within a life I know very little about.
How has creating this piece changed the way you think about Kathleen and your own family history?
I think it's changed the way I think about creativity within my family more than anything else. Being part of this residency is the first time I've really committed to being an artist, even though I've always been creating in different ways. Thinking about Kathleen led me to think about the other artists in my family. Both of my grandmothers sew, which is how I learned to sew. There are quilters throughout my family too. Their work was functional, but it was also beautiful and creative. I've started looking at those family stories differently. Rather than seeing sewing or quilting as simply practical skills, I see them as artistic practices. It's made me recognize creativity and artistry in places where I hadn't thought about it before.
Shanique Peart
@shanique_peart
What are you discovering about your own practice as you shift from documenting others to building an archive of your own experience?
I'm realizing how much of a privilege it is to have photographs and records of your life. When you're focused on survival or navigating day-to-day challenges, documenting memories isn't always a priority. A lot of people in marginalized communities don't have the opportunity to look back through extensive family archives. Over the last year and a half, I've been exploring how photography can function as a form of resistance and storytelling through intimate portraits and environmental storytelling. I think archives are often viewed as static records, but life keeps moving.
The documents and photographs we save don't just shape how we understand the past, they also shape the present and future. This residency is helping me think about photography and archival work together rather than as separate practices. I'm excited to learn, grow, and continue documenting both my own experiences and the experiences of the people around me.
How do you see this residency shaping the work you'll continue developing during your Q4 artist-in-residence term at the Tett Centre?
I'm honestly amazed by how much I've already learned. We're only partway through the month, but Alyssa has created so many opportunities for us to visit archives, galleries, artist-run centres, and connect with incredible people in both Kingston and Toronto. It feels like we've been given access to so much knowledge and so many resources in a short period of time. Right now I'm focused on learning, asking questions, challenging myself, and building a strong foundation. I'm hoping everything I gain from this experience will directly inform the work I create during my Artist-in-Residence term at the Tett this fall.
Kizzy Johnson
@kizzys_sketchbook
How are you bringing your own family's experiences into a project that also speaks to the much larger story of the school-to-prison pipeline?
My family's experiences serve as the starting point for a much broader conversation. While my family has experienced aspects of these systems, researching the topic through my master's work has shown me just how much worse these realities can be for many other Black families. The project begins with our story and then expands outward into the larger research. I want to show that these experiences aren't isolated. There are many families who have gone through similar things, but those stories often aren't talked about enough. Through the work, I hope to connect the personal and the systemic, showing how individual experiences fit within much larger structures while still maintaining a human perspective.
What do you hope people understand about the resilience and complexity of Black families after seeing this work?
Every Black person I know is one of the most resilient people I've ever met. I want people to recognize that resilience, but I don't want them to focus only on hardship.
It's important to tell the full story. There are challenges and there are incredible accomplishments, joy, strength, and care. You can't talk about the negatives without also recognizing the positives.
While this project is addressing serious issues that deserve attention, I also want people to leave with a sense of hope. I want people to understand that change is possible and that things can get better when we work together to address these issues.
DJ ZARI
@djzari_
Was there a song, artist, or story you came across during your research that sent you down a completely unexpected rabbit hole?
I found myself going much deeper into the history of Detroit techno, particularly through Juan Atkins and Underground Resistance. What fascinated me was learning how closely the music was connected to the realities of Black Detroit in the 1980s. Deindustrialization, economic hardship, inner-city decay, and broader struggles faced by African American communities all helped shape the music that emerged from that moment.
Underground Resistance turned techno into a form of resistance and futurism. They used electronic music to imagine something beyond those circumstances, which I found incredibly powerful. It also made me think about what happens when music becomes globally popular and its origins start to blur. House and techno are often associated with European electronic music culture today, even though they're deeply rooted in Black American communities. Learning that history felt like an important reminder of where these sounds came from.
How are you taking what you're discovering through the archives and turning it into a sound that feels like your own?
Researching this history has made me want to approach house and techno with more intention. I'm drawn to melodic, nostalgic sounds that feel emotional and transportive, but I also want my work to carry a message and reflect where I come from. I'm interested in taking the history and spirit of Black electronic music and interpreting it through my own influences, whether that's house, techno, hip-hop, or global sounds. Rather than simply reproducing what came before me, I want to understand the lineage, respect it, and then push it forward into something that feels distinctly my own.
Experience The Remix Residency
Curious to learn more about the ideas, stories, and creative processes behind The Remix Residency? There are two upcoming opportunities to connect with the artists and themes explored throughout the program.
August 22 | 12–1 pm | Cultivate Art Commons, 370 King St. W., Main Gallery
Join OPIRG Kingston to learn more about how artists and non-artists alike can interact with, and make, history. Using the 2021 anti-colonial Revolution of the Heart movement as a case study, participants will explore how art can be used to present counter-histories and how archives can support ongoing struggles for justice.
August 30 | Doors: 11:30 am, Artist Talk: 12–3 pm | Cultivate Art Commons, 370 King St. W., Suite 305
Meet the artists behind The Remix Residency as they share their creative journeys, processes, and the stories shaping their work. Discover how they're queering archives, remixing histories, and creating new narratives that challenge, reclaim, and reimagine the past.
