The Nouveau Louvre’s opening : a successful get-together

The 24th edition of Nouveau Louvre started on Saturday Nov.23 with the GNO’s helpers carolling to a feverish crowd.

With approximately 374 artworks made by local and out-of-town artists to choose from, the yearly art sale pleased the art lovers that showed up at 139 Durham street.

This year’s first day was a record-breaker as 56 pieces found a home, which means the GNO was able to pay 7,000$ to artists as its annual fundraiser just begun.

The event, taking place from Tuesday to Saturday until Dec.21st, exposes 2 artworks from the same artist at a time while stocks last. This means the exhibition renews as never-seen-before artworks are put on display as the sales go.

This is something to keep in mind if you haven’t found the one at the Nouveau Louvre’s opening, amongst all the acrylics, watercolours, pastels, photographies, sculptures, collages, glassworks and so much more that this unique event offers. To stay updated, visit the exhibition page to see new work displayed in our virtual gallery.


We Are All Trumpets in a Corner

an impression left on Elyse Bertrand about “The Olympic Effort of the Sex Magick Warriors” by Maximilian Suillerot

Chants and people fill the streets, taking back the night. Protesting with people, filling the air with energy to bring change. The community felt among people who’ve been hurt, who have loved ones hurt by others. Being part of it, my voice raw from chanting and then going to a white, pink and blue room. The message is clear. Were here. We are queer. We aren’t going away.

A husk of binary colours, on a podium cast there and empty. Shallow promises of tolerance. Stripped down to the pink and blue, it tells me we are more than the sex we were assigned. Fruity armour its called, like casting off one’s armour to be truly vulnerable, allowing oneself to shed the strict and rigid binary society has placed upon us and transition into another society. One of tolerance and acceptance. One where we can be who we are without fear of violence, without the shame and anger.

There were many emotions when I first walked into this space, I was not able to identify at first but it was powerful. To see such bright and loud pride. Something moved in me and brought out my own sense of pride. Here is a space I could be in.  A space where I was myself. Not whom I presented as – woman – but my full non-binary self. Someone who could work past the shame and anger imposed onto me by society. Someone who can correct people when they call me the wrong gender.

We are like trumpets in a corner, pushed there by people who cannot accept, who will not accept, so swept in the corner making our cries of protest. As if we cannot be heard. But we are being heard. Every time my friends use the right pronouns. For every ally we have against every enemy.

Sex Magick Warriors: we fight for the basic human right to exist. To be who we are. On this planet as a fellow human being. The torch passed down from our trans ancestors who were buried in life and in accomplishment. This torch has been passed and carried for as long as humans have been. Flickering but always there.

Like what is shown in the video, which is the exhibition’s main piece, I’m inspired to keep that torch burning for my trans and non-binary siblings. Keep it going for the next generation to take up and run with it. To keep it running until we finally can just be. Live as we are, in the end that is all anybody wants. So why deny us this? Why deny people the right to be themselves when we ourselves are not hurting anyone.

It will take a lot of magick energy to change the minds of those who do not want change. But change is happening every day. May it be the leaves in the trees and the air in the sky, nothing stays the same, as does society, and we must use our energy for the better of our society. Our energy has linked us all with the mutual suffering, our mutual loves and our mutual resilience. We are here, we always have and always will be.

Elyse is an artist who enjoys being around cool people, animals and working in their studio.They are also at their peak when the fall colours show on the trees.

CALL TO ARTISTS – Nouveau Louvre 2019

Not a snowflake in sight, but the Holidays are in the air. You’re not dreaming, it’s time to take your brushes out, mix those colours and submit your art pieces to the Nouveau Louvre !

The GNO invites all artists to show their work and put it up for sale at the 24th edition of Nouveau Louvre. Whether you work with charcoal, oil paints, clay, stained glass or photo, it will find its place on our walls! And soon enough on those of the many shoppers coming to our yearly art sale that has become a real holiday tradition in Sudbury.

This year, there are a few changes to the drill : Submit your pieces at our newest venue, at 54 Elgin street, until Friday, November 22nd. The GNO’s hours are from 12 PM to 6 PM, Tuesday to Saturday. We are accepting, as of today, up to four (4) works of art from each artist.

Another novelty, the artworks will be exposed two at the time at 139, Durham street (in front of YMCA) from Saturday November 23 to Saturday December 21.

The Nouveau Louvre is the GNO’s most important fundraising activity. All works of art at the Nouveau Louvre will be for sale at the single price of 200$, of which 125$ will be paid to the artist, and 75$ to the GNO.

We encourage participating artists to bring in their work as soon as possible, so that we might document the artwork and make it available on the Nouveau Louvre’s website. If you know artists who’d be interested, spread the word !



NEW : The GNO on the radio

It’s official ! The GNO joins forces with la Slague and the TNO for a weekly cultural and artistic radio show : Stie-Citte !

Listen to it live on CKLU 96.7 every Thursday at 11 am and you’ll catch the hottest news of what’s coming in your hometown or around the world about the Arts…in FRENCH !!! Recorded with a pinch of humour and a ton of self-mockery, Stie-Citte is also available on Spotify to listen if you’ve missed it live.

Groove is in the Heart

an accompanying text by Alex Tétreault about ” Les clés du cœur ” by Hélène Lefebvre.

It’s hot out.

Downtown is buzzing as the excited masses wander amidst the festive cacophony. A lone woman with orphan headphones dances to the beat of her own key chain. She begins her journey at the panoply of lovers’ locks, which weigh down the bridge over the tracks with their sheer amount of “forevers” frozen in time and space.

On the packed sidewalk of Elgin Street or the snaking paths of Memorial Park, she goes largely unnoticed. Aside from the occasional polite nod, the faintest smirk, or the sincere questions regarding her well being, she is quickly and automatically categorized with the other denizens of those areas.

Lost in her own little universe, she continues her dance, her one-woman bacchanal. Once she crosses the metal fencing however, it’s a whole different set of keys. The context changes everything. Almost instantaneously, festival-goers, already primed by the pulsating of the speakers and the seemingly endless booze from the bar, begin grooving to her beat. For one brief instant, this woman’s love feeds her new-found partners, who feed it right back to her, and so on and so forth in a feedback loop of love.

And then, as quickly as it came, the moment passes, like the others that preceded it and those that will follow it. The concerned parties go their separate ways, the jingling woman continuing her journey. But, this moment remains…magical.

There’s something magical in watching her, so taken by this music that only she can hear, her body feeding off the energy of those around her, her vibe-siphoning headphones plugged into the cosmos. Because we too could hear this music, be fed by this collective energy. We only need to live in these moments of ephemerality when they present themselves, be they a performance, a festival, or even love itself. We each have our own keyring, jingling away in our hearts, longing.


Alex is a little shit from Azilda. His cat, Ariane Minouchkine, is his muse and an endless source of inspiration. When he feels like it, he writes stuff.

A first outside-the-walls activity for the GNO

What’s better for our first presence outside the gallery than participating to the growing urban art and music festival Up Here ? Inviting Hélène Lefebvre, of course! A long-time collaborator of the GNO, she will present a serie of surprise performances during the whole week-end of festivities.

Her troubling yet always meaningful style questions identity and alterity while pushing the boundaries of the body and symbolism. For the occasion, the interdisciplinary artist will offer to the wandering crowd performances in line with the one shown at the 5th edition of FAAS.

Her last intervention is scheduled for Sunday August 18, around noon, in front of the YMCA (Durham street), right before the departure for the Up Here Mystery Tour – ’cause, you know, waiting for a bus to take you to see some shows is way better with some MORE art !

The artist will be in residency as of August 13. For more details, visit this event Facebook page.

Mining the Mind

an accompanying text by Jamaluddin Aram about Lips of one thousand nine hundred ninety six teachers, an exhibition by Patrick Cruz.

The same year that Galerie du Nouvel-Ontario (GNO) was founded in Sudbury, thousands of miles away, a collective of madrasa students captured the city of Kabul. The year was 1996.

This is a story of two beginnings. But the intentions and outcomes couldn’t be more different. In Sudbury, GNO opened its doors to breathe fresh life into arts, to give the artists the space and the recognition to create. In Kabul, the Taliban’s pickup trucks rolled into the city in the middle of the night. The next morning, when the early risers saw the newcomers, there was nothing special about them except that their eyes had a black contour, lined with coal; that some wore sandals and some walked bare foot; and that their music lacked all musical instruments.

With GNO, Sudbury opened to all practices in contemporary arts. With Taliban, Kabul closed to all practices in arts: music, dance, painting, drawing, film, television, kite-flying, theatre, boxing, even whistling. I was in Kabul then. I am in Sudbury now. Through reflecting on those two beginnings, I am connecting the narratives and highlighting the disparities in them.

My initial reaction to Lips of One Thousand Nine Hundred Ninety-Six Teachers, an exhibition by Patrick Cruz at GNO, compelled me to compare. The recklessly assembled art looked ugly when I first went to see it. I asked myself: “Is this art?” Patrick made a collage of unrelated items which had long been out of use. He piled them up in the middle of the gallery: stoves, computers, construction hardhats, boots, files and folders, magazines and books, crutches, ping pong balls, shirts, photo albums, etc. “I excavated [GNO’s] basement,” Patrick said. Disturbed by my reaction – which based on past experience often has an ignorant undertone – I went to talk to Patrick. I learned about his concept of memory and unearthing the past to make sense of the future. I learned that art, as a concept, can be subjective and fluid, that it can be unsettling and not pristine, that there’s much more going into creating art than the visible brushstrokes on a canvas, the rehearsed moves in a choreographed dance, or the final stitching on a splendid costume.

As I learned more about site-specific installation, I thought about Taliban’s commitment to destroy any site-specific art that came across them, including the Buddha Statue in Central Afghanistan carved on the face of a mountain in the 5th century.

As much as the rest of the world pushed forward, Afghanistan marched backward. At schools, drawing and calligraphy classes were substituted with religious studies. We learned bizarre things. I never knew that going to the toilet involved so many intricate steps. Our one-eyed religious studies teacher said that one should step into the toilet with his left foot, and out of the toilet with the right foot. “What would happen when one makes a mistake?” one of our classmates asked. “What happens you ask?” the teacher responded, “Satan will enter your naked bottom.” Needless to say, there was very little discussion of site-specific art installation.

It is only from the comfort of the hindsight, twenty-three years later, that I wonder: could the five years of Taliban’s repressive rule function as a source of inspiration for a new generation of writers, poets, musicians, filmmakers and visual artists?

After all, Patrick Cruz’s exhibition hints at the fact that the torch, which can be used to illuminate our paths moving forward, can lie in the past. To access it sometimes we might have to dig thousands of meters deep into the ground, sometimes look for it in the basement of a building, and sometimes the great secret lies in the human mind in the form of memories.

Jamaluddin Aram is a documentary filmmaker, producer, and short story writer from Kabul, Afghanistan. His documentaries My Teacher Is a Shopkeeper and Unbelievable Journey have been screened in Afghanistan and elsewhere around the world. He is the associate producer of the Academy Award-nominated film Buzkashi Boys. His short stories have appeared in Afghan, American, and Canadian literary magazines. He currently lives in Sudbury, Ontario.

The GNO is moving !

Located for the past 22 years at the same address, the GNO is moving prior to its official relocation at Place des Arts, like a teenage rebellion preceding a serious step. The GNO’s relocalisation is also a precious occasion to focus our energies on a rich programming that puts creativity as a priority while attracting new publics. As it is not the first time in the gallery’s history that we have to move on short notice, we are welcoming this change as an opportunity to promote actual arts in unusual ways, such as outside-the-walls exhibitions.

The relocation is planned on July 1st, following the exhibition Lips of  one thousand nine hundred ninety six teachers, by Patrick Cruz, shown from May 31 to June 28. The artist took advantage of the move to incorporate the gallery’s archives and other objects found in the basement into his multimedia installation that presents Sudbury in a pseudo-documentary.