Room 209

In the fall of 2017, I found myself in room 209 at the Crash Hotel, performing in a hand-sewn suit made of pantyhose. The work deals with my own anxieties around body dysmorphia and the ways I feel when being leered at or otherwise objectified.

I was invited to do a performance and takeover a hotel space at the Crash Hotel as part of the closing party for YEG Design Week. I was really excited to be invited to participate in the event. I went through great lengths to transform the hotel space I was given through crochet, light, sculpture and performance. Guests attending the closing party were encouraged to explore the hotel, engaging with each hotel room and the artists taking over the space.

The evening started out slow. As the night went on, the environment and feel of the space shifted. Throughout the evening ( every couple of seconds) I found myself in a position where my suited breasts were being grabbed so aggressively that it hurt my body beneath. At one point, I was surrounded by a group of men, encouraging each other to “grab her tits” or to “kick it”. I found myself screaming as loud as I could to see if one of fifteen(ish) security guards would come running. They didn’t. Instead, a man screams back-- twice as loud, 3 inches from my face. I found myself listening, as men in suits walk by, look me in the eyes and say “You are so fucking gross”. I found myself standing in a crowded hallway with a man shoving his fingers in my mouth while another pulls my hair.

This happens repeatedly over four hours.

I try everything I can to stop this. I punch men for grabbing me and hurting me and I feel ready to be punched back. I scream as loud as I can before they can grab me, I flip their drinks on their shirts. Nothing works. I debate quitting and shutting the door, but that feels as if I am giving them my power. Something I have done too many times in my life. Men ask to take my photo and if I don’t respond, they won’t take my photo, however, they will grab me violently and without my consent. I spent so much time thinking about what to do. Finally, I begin to act overly flirtatious, twirling my hair on my fingers and returning their intent gaze. The men are disgusted with me and finally stop groping me. Well, most of them.

That night, I pushed a ​respectable,​ Edmonton designer (who has a partner and children) for grabbing my breasts. Throughout the entire event, I had a photographer and a videographer in my small room and have everything documented through video and photography.

I reached out to a few friends about my experience and with their encouragement and support, I sought help from the Sexual Assault Centre of Edmonton. Through counselling and mediated meetings, the idea to curate an exhibition that was safe for artists to make and share their important work around the BODY, felt like a really powerful way to take back my power and share that with others.

The Exhibition was supposed to take place at the Crash Hotel, however, after consulting with the Sexual Assault Centre of Edmonton, I have decided that for many reasons, the Crash Hotel is not the right space to share this work.

Due to COVID-19, we’ve chosen to share this work virtually through live stream and video documentation. An XR version of Crash Course with Ommatidium Studios is in the works, pending funding. Thank you to all of the artists who shared their brilliant work and stories of heartbreak and resilience. ***Stay tuned for live stream schedules @crashcourse._