My first encounter with Alex Pouliot was a sort of half-fulfilled, one-directional game of glances, too early one morning while waiting at a bus station as we were both leaving Montreal for parallel work trips. I was travelling to attend a festival in Victoriaville to write a paper on the event’s experimental film program, while Alex – as I learned later – was visiting an art centre in Rimouski to plan a project for the publishing house he co-founded. We had, one day or two before, exchanged contacts after chatting on a dating app but hadn’t yet met. I stayed silent, trying to catch a few glimpses, making sure I wasn’t mistaken, wondering if introducing myself for the first time might imprison us both in a few hours of possibly uncomfortable chitchat. But as soon as I got in my seat and realized we were in fact embarking on different buses, going in different directions, I wrote to Alex, revealing to him this unrequited first meeting. And it was then that began the correspondence in which we learned to know each other, sharing covertly recorded soundscapes alongside fragmented dream retellings muttered through scratchy, barely awake voices.
As I got to know Alex, I realized how his art practice was not completely unrelated to the underpinnings of this initial encounter, both through his interest in dream narratives and his playful involvement in the direction of gazes as seen in his work with stained glass and reconstructed mirror pieces. And if my retelling of this story doesn’t stem so much from a desire to share intimate memories, it tries to mirror a dedication I notice in Alex’s way of thinking about being an artist. Far from being confined to the studio space, he is interested in thinning the boundaries separating everyday gestures from the thematic interests of his artistic endeavours, or those dividing imaginaries and narratives from their enactment in reality. As he’s often working with fragile materials, there’s a practice of attentiveness to Alex’s work that I’m grateful to witness, just like the care with which a coincidence is handled.
-Written by Thomas Filteau, film critic and Alex’s partner
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Which neighbourhood are you in?
After many long and rather desperate months of searching, I’ve been living in the Village for a year now, thanks to the support of friends who hosted and helped me find this current apartment. It’s a blessing to be able to live in a well-located and affordable place in Montreal that allows me to live on my own, and also serves as my home studio, interweaving art into life.
What do you do?
Art has been the way I navigate and react to the feelings of living. More specifically, through art making, I am interested in the effects of how things look. I’m currently pursuing an MFA in Sculpture at Concordia, where I’ve been focusing on learning new techniques, like stained glass, chain work and gilding, working from found materials like fruit pits. I also make books working as an editor at Pièce jointe, a non-profit organization and publishing house dedicated to the dissemination of artists’ research in contemporary art I co-founded in 2020 with artist Andy Maple.
What are you currently working on?
Right now, I’m still in the process of setting up my home studio, with plans to start working there this winter to catch up on a stained glass piece that needs to be repaired for an upcoming mystery show. This coming year, I’ll be fully dedicated to the making of a film for my final thesis exhibition. Entirely made from clips from mainstream entertainment media that had a strong influence on the shaping of my beliefs and identity, this project seeks to make visible the repetition of visual patterns that have stayed with me over the years, to reflect on the after-effects of media images.
Where can we find your work?
My website is the place where I archive all my projects and announce upcoming exhibitions. The making of it all can be followed on Instagram.
