I was surprised recently to receive a genuine inquiry about an older project - one I had somewhat half-heartedly set aside. And it’s even more meaningful when the interest comes from one of the truly good people in the industry: someone thoughtful, who makes collaboration fun, communicates clearly and reasonably, and who takes the time to connect - to understand who you are and what your work is about.
Kade Krichko is one of these people. I’m genuinely thrilled he reached out and was honoured to collaborate with him on a feature for his magazine, Ori. Kade has been around, has worked with some of the best publications and photographers. He does exceptional work. He’s one of the good ones - the kind of collaborator you hope for but only seldom find. Ori itself is a beautiful, artist-focused publication. What more can you ask for?
The work in question is Shinny, a project that began more than ten years ago. I’ve always loved this body of work, but it became increasingly difficult to continue for the very reason I started it: the climate was changing. Winters here in the north were becoming shorter, warmer, and far less predictable.
Here’s what I wrote about Shinny when it was exhibited in Orlando in 2023 at the Snap! Gallery, run and curated by the late, dearly missed Patrick Kahn - another one of the very good guys.
Shinny was inspired by a photograph from my childhood in Montreal. The image lives in an old-style photo album - the kind with transparent pages that fold over to protect the pictures. It is black and white, bearing the patina of more than fifty years, and is inscribed “Winter 1973” in ballpoint ink on the back.
I am two and a half years old in the photograph: a toque pulled over my head, a scarf wrapped around my neck, skates on my feet, a hockey stick in my hands. It captures a childhood shaped by entire winter days spent playing this original, stripped-down version of our national pastime. We reenacted historic victories of our beloved team in replica jerseys of red, white, and blue, staying out until our fingers and toes were nearly frozen. In Montreal - and across Quebec - hockey was our religion, and the rink our cathedral.
The sights, sounds, and rituals of shinny hockey - encoded in our collective Canadian DNA - are what I aim to document. This work pays homage to a tradition woven into the fabric of Canadian identity. Shinny is how we endure long, cold winters. For many, it defines childhood; for others, it offers a way to connect with an adopted land and culture. Most importantly, it brings Canadians together across age, gender, race, and socio-economic differences.
Other projects eventually took precedence: work made over two winters in India, and five years in Israel for what became The Cracks in Everything. If I’m being completely honest, Shinny also stalled because I wasn’t sure where it needed to go - what was missing, and what would make it feel complete.
Editing the work for Ori - much of it previously unseen or unpublished - has breathed new life into the project. The next step is to get uncomfortable again, load the car, and head back out onto the wintery Canadian highway.
