Stereo (for) Rough Waters X ODE (to) THE HUSTLE

From the struggle to have a place to call home, to keeping food on the table, to looming existential crises; home, be it our city, our neighbourhoods, and the world we live in, seems to be in a moment of tension, as many struggle through the grind of trying to keep heads above water, hustling by any means to make ends meet, bringing in all the peril, stress, and exhaustion of the proverbial hustle. Our project here, though definitely no antidote or cure, speaks to this moment, and celebrates those pushing their way through it – for as long as there are waves crashing over head, there will those that will still find a way to swim. In the midst of a city we call home ravaged by a skyrocketing cost of living and a world seemingly running on the demeaning of the working class, our project explores the feeling of what it means to be living in such times, what it feels like to be swimming in rough waters, and celebrate the working class folks staying afloat, facing every wave head on, chin up, with dignity. Stereo (for) Rough Water X ODE (to) THE HUSTLE is an installation collaged together from a gallery of photos, video projections (Ode (to) The Hustle) and an EP of music (Stereo (for) Rough Water), trying to capture what it feels like to be in the moment we’re in: the grind for too little pay, the hustles forced to occur to keep heads above water, the constant stream of “how are we going to afford this” crashing in through the door; labour going unnoticed, submerged, exploited and ignored, only to keep a privileged few happily sailing along. How do we stay afloat in the midst of such waves crashing over head, and still get up every day to find joy, hope, and dignity in the world? Our project is an ode to the working class folks in the midst of our city’s rough waters, with music and photos creating a stereo sounding the feeling and stories of those swimming through, soundtracking the feeling, the grind, the hope in trying times, and the constant hustle, under bright lights, or outside of them done by so many as we feel the waves crashing overhead. Often when we speak of a hustle, we are speaking of contraband and its movement, yet we ignore the powers and systems which would deem them to be illicit in the first place. In such a storm, the acts of survival, to swim where we should have drowned, to see dignity and humanity where powers and systems have decreed there is none, to hold hope and dignity with heads above water becomes its own movement of illicit product, its own hustle. This project is an ode to, and a celebration of, the working class folks who, in spite of rough waters, still push to stay afloat.