Itinerary 1

Yoga/dance: The Art of Slowing Down @McCord Stewart Museum

February 25, 6 p.m.-1 a.m.

6 PM

As I rush out of my house, I scan myself to make sure I'm ready for La Nuit Blanche. The night is going to be chilly, so I'd better wear warm clothes.

6: 15 PM

I take the metro on Jean Talon and this weekend is unusually busy. At Berry Ucam, the already crowded metro gets more crowded as I see many parents with kids board the metro. It's not uncommon to see so many kids in the metro all at once.

6: 30 PM

As I get off the metro at Guy Concordia, I hear Le métro sera ouvert tout la nuit aujourd'hui (the metro runs all night). As I hear the message, I realize it's apparently La Nuit Blanche tonight.

7:00 PM

In H1120, I meet other new members who are as eager to start as I am. I run into some familiar faces too. We're welcomed by Erin. There is a snack in the corner. With chai in hand, I take a few biscuits and sit down. Hanine's next to me. She asks if she can join me and Melina at McCord Museum Stewart in Sherbrooke Street for The Art of Slowing Down. I say yes, of course.

7:30 PM

We get a glimpse into what La Nuit Blanche will be like as Erin tells us where we can get together for hot chocolate during the night. She also provides us with some background on La Nuit Blanche and sensory anthropology. In one way or another, we've all been exposed to sensory anthropology and some have even done it. Then we disperse.

8:00 PM

A rush of cold hits me on my face as we head out of the Hall Building, it's rather gray and somber today. I look up at Leonard Cohen's mural against the clouds of smoke coming out of the heating system of the building. For the weekend, the street is unusually quiet. Before we head to McCord, we decide to eat. We'll miss yoga, but the rest of the night is ours. We concur.

8:30 PM

Enjoying my soy-sauced dumplings smothered in sesame seeds and slivers of soy sauce, we catch up on each other's lives. Melina eats a hearty spoonful of noodle soup and proclaims that this is what she wanted.  It's a new Chinese place, and there are just two men seated at the window for La Nuit Blanche. Taking our orders, we're just offered warm water by a Chinese woman. She's also the chef, we soon find out. Hanine writes something already and shares her experience generated by the place, the empty restaurant, and our conversation. It's amazing how quickly she can translate the senses into words. I cry more than I write, I tell them.

9:00 PM

Our walk in Sherbrooke takes us past the Le Musée des beaux-arts de Montréal and we stop by for a sensory experience of art projection. Many people are standing across the museum like us watching the spectacle the night promised. Suddenly, I feel Montreal is alive again, with so many couples walking past us with their hands tightly clutched in each other. I've never felt Montreal alive like this in a long time, and I wonder if this is after all the effect of La Nuit Blanche.

We leave behind Le Musée des beaux-arts de Montréal and head straight to McCord Museum to learn all about the art of slowing down. We're outside the McCord and we see so many people inside already. From the outside, it definitely looks like a place to be. As we figure our way into the hall where yoga is going on we relish other concurrent exhibitions on the main floor. The paintings and the stories of various First Nation people captivate us as we quickly explore the exhibit. On the main floor, we hang our coats and take the stairs upstairs. As I take the stairs, I find myself unable to tell if it's a café, a dance show, or an exhibition from different competing noise alone.

9:30 PM

On the second floor, we come across somber black-and-white framed photographs from the Art and Nature exhibition by the legendary Alexander Henderson (1813-1913). In addition to showing Henderson's idyllic photographs of picture-perfect Canada, the photos on display trace his artistic journey as a landscape photographer in Montreal. His exhibit comprises of archival documents, letters, and pictures from excursions he took for the railway company to Montreal and other parts of Quebec like Outaouais, the Gaspésie, the North Shore, and the majestic Saguenay Fjord.

At the end of what looks like a labyrinth of halls is a room with a big screen showing Henderson's landscape photos one after another. As sea waves dominate the big screen, I feel my senses take in a waft of sea smell and a splash of water on my face. I get a goosebump in my hand. The slideshow on the ceiling-high wall is enhanced by ambient music in the background. From a snow-covered boulevard to a frosted Arboreal Forest and then to the sea waves, I feel like I’m part of the landscape and Henderson’s capture.

There's something surreal about the sea waves and the music. I yearn for summer while the slideshow changes into a frosty lake in Saint Bruno. His monochromatic frames mostly taken during snowy wintry days cannot be less dramatic than this as heaves of snowy mountains inspire immediacy yet yearning for Canada that has been imagined through these very portrayals. Of course, I would be lying to not agree that the tourist in me is captivated as I long to experience the Canadian outdoors, wilderness, snow, and forest. I surrender to the frames completely.

10:00 PM

By the time we reach the hall, yoga is over. However, dance is about to begin. Chloé Robertson our dance leader speaks into the microphone from the corner of the room. This is the same room where Henderson's pictures are projected on the wall. She invites us to take off our shoes and come forward. As we gather in a circle for three hours of nonstop dancing, Henderson's wintery music was fittingly replaced by a slow yet groovy piece of music. I move my hands like a spiral in the air while moving my body to the music. I like how slow, gentle, and enticing the music is. Every once in a while, although I try to focus on my own hand and body coordination, I'm also drawn to others. I see Melina dancing to her own rhythm and so are the others in the room.

After the warmup session in which we let our bodies unwind through active shaking of our hands and shoulders, I realize how that has also let my mind relax knowing this is after all the art of slowing down. We are then asked to tap our feet on the ground to the sound of an afro drum beat. As we tap our feet, we also create a live beat that grows with the second as more and more people follow the group engulfing the music in the background. At this point, we have attuned ourselves to the surrounding and the energy by the tapping that rose to a crescendo. While tapping my feet in a circle, little did I realize that I am not really dancing alone or on my own anymore-- I am actually dancing with and in relation to others.

To this realization, the dancefloor is a relational temporal space where my hands and body move in relation to others and theirs to mine. As I maneuver my way and move to match the rising tempo of the music, I realize how my place in this world is inherently relational. I exist in relation to the people I share my life with. Simply, my existence is built and entangled into theirs. Having this profound sense of how porous our lives are generated by means of dancing together. Swaying my body in the atmosphere and living my life in the moment to the rhythm of the music I feel incredibly lucky and grateful to be in this moment with others. And I let go, I slow down, I forget and I am in the present. It is in a long time since I am feeling this sense of belonging and of human commonality.

I soon learn coordination is the key to everything from what follows from here onward. After tapping, we are asked to dance on our own for a few minutes after which we are encouraged to look at a person next to us and mirror his/her movement before coming to a halt. We repeat the steps not only in coordination with the person next to us but with everyone who is present on the dancefloor. Irrespective of how subtle these acts may seem to many of us if only we take a moment to appreciate the moment, we would indeed realize that it is truly an invitation to sensorial and experiential attunement to ourselves to our feelings as an act of meditation.

12:50 AM

I am somewhat tired and I go to sit on the floor on the side naturally my legs fold into a butterfly pose and I flip them gently. Naturally, I recline to supta baddha konasana (reclining bound angle pose) before settling for savasana (corpse pose) for total relaxation. As I was just relaxing into the pose, we hear a message: please exit the hall the museum is closing in five minutes. I didn’t realize how quickly three hours had passed and it was indeed five to one in the morning.