Phil Mader was born in France in 1949, the progeny of WWII
beleaguered immigrants from France who were escaping bankruptcy, and who maybe
lied about their religion to get into Canada in 1951 (and felt, well shit, for
once a Nazi fugitive didn't get in ahead). He was raised in a Jewish ghetto
area of Montreal called Snowdon and moved to Ottawa with his parents in 1961.
While missing the ghetto life of noise, argument and mega assertiveness, his
nervous system experienced the calm and serenity of the asylum referred to in
lore as “boring Ottawa of the 1960’s”. His body recouped from many years of
Montreal inner city abuse by idling in verdant Ottawa suburbia where the word “nice”
reflected a new civilization, a new set of values, a reminder that directness
was not appreciated. For many years thereafter the words, film school,
filmmaking, poetry magazines, poetry radio programs, Theater of Caricature,
playwriting, directing/producing, satire, short story writing, and erotic
writings would mirror the universes he inhabited, the vessels into which he
poured. Today he is retired in beautiful British Columbia, and contemplating
sailing a bathtub from Montreal Harbour to Brazil’s State of Bahia. His poetry
cassette, Death of a Mystic, Rise of an Anarchist was once in
circulation at The Ottawa Public Library.
Q: How long were you in Ottawa, and what first brought you
here? What took you away?
I was in Ottawa from 1961 to 1968, and then from 1975 to
2005; so 37 years.
My father, who was a real estate salesman (later a real
estate broker) got work in Ottawa when real estate sales were severely down in
Montreal. When he saw Ottawa would work
out, he had us follow him.
WHAT TOOK ME AWAY
I had the opportunity to retire. I wanted something new in my
life; I wanted to be closer to my children (who then lived in Vancouver), closer
to lush nature free of air pollution, and finally I wanted to be free of
extreme humidity. The town of Nelson was
all that and irresistibly beautiful in a mountain setting. Advancing age may force me to return to
Ottawa/Gatineau where my children now live.
Q: How did you first get involved in writing, and
subsequently, the writing community here?
I was living at Pestalozzi College (Rideau and Chapel St.) –
now privately owned luxury apartments- a University of Ottawa housing
cooperative for students but the building was so huge that they began to allow
non students to live there; so, I moved in there with my family. On the 22nd
floor, local poet, Joe Lacroix, who later co-founded the still running TREE
series, held poetry readings at a lounge set aside for that kind of activity. While attending the readings, I became
interested in writing poetry.
Across the street from Pestalozzi was CHERITON GRAPHICS, a
printing and literary publishing company that benefited from provincial grants
to publish small books of poetry – this is the late 1970s. To find writers, he
allowed Jane Jordan, who later became a high profile local poet, to put on
poetry readings at his front office in the evenings. If my memory serves me
right, she called her series THE UNDERGROUND UP.
It was at these evenings that I met poet Robert Craig who
already knew Juan O’Neill, who later found the SASQUATCH poetry reading
series. At dinner at Rob Craig’s place,
I got to formally meet Juan, and we became best pals after that.
Sandy Hill, where I lived for more than 30 years, was a
microcosm of populist Ottawa readings in that era with SASQUATCH, TREE, ORION
readings successfully blossoming away. I
was never more than a populist poet and still happily call myself that. I did get published in several local poetry
magazines such as SPARKS. From the 1970s to the 1990s, my work in Ottawa
was published in audio form , read on the radio, recited on television. I self-published an audiocassette entitled, DEATH
OF A MYSTIC, RISE OF AN ANARCHIST, which was circulated by the Ottawa
Library for a time. I still have a copy of a publication called POOR MAN’S
PRESS (copyright 1983) in which I published a poem entitled SUNDAY
MORNINGS. I’m particularly proud of being included in that publication not only
because the magazine cover’s illustration was unusually highly dramatic and
artistic, but also because it represented quality “street poetry” to which I’ve
always been attached.
An art documentary I worked on called POETS AT THE LAFF,
sadly did not come to fruition. Poets reciting at the wild Lafayette House
Tavern – believe me, it was wild and rustic in the 1980s – was the planned
focus.
My chief Ottawa community engagement in poetry was being a
loyal patron of the SASQUATCH poetry series, which Juan O’Neill turned into,
some say, one of the longest poetry reading series in Canada. Over the years,
Juan took his readings, like a Roma caravan, from one Sandy Hill venue to
another– and I followed him. There was the Rosie Lee Café; the Wildflower Café;
a pizzeria, a Scottish pub, a Rideau St. café, and finally the Royal Oak Pub on
Laurier E., which no longer exists – for the longest stint of all. The Rosie Lee Café (next to the Royal Oak) years
were the most anarchist and most fun, with all kinds of curious characters
taking part. Juan was open to the
talents of the most refined poet to those of the rank amateur. He included music and theater. To my knowledge SASQUATCH was the only poetry
reading in Ottawa that invited francophone poets from across the river to read.
Somewhere in the middle of the 1980s, Juan O’Neill purchased
THE WILDFLOWER CAFÉ on Laurier E., from its owner. Running the café and acting as the master of
ceremonies for the poetry reading were now his responsibilities. Juan inherited
Jane Jordan’s series name, THE UNDERGROUND UP, a name he kept at The Wildflower
Café until he changed it to SASQUATCH. The Wildflower Café was a spiffy venue
that reminded me of a New York City upscale coffee house. I worked for Juan at the coffee machine,
making mostly cappuccinos that caused such a burst of steam that it reminded me of the old railway steam
engines.
Sadly, Juan, lacking business acumen, lost the café. The
Wildflower Café – easy going and lovely.
Q: How did being in such a community of writers shift your
thinking about writing, if at all? Have there been subsequent shifts due to
where you have lived since?
The community of writers I belonged gave the impression that
freedom was the ultimate gift given to the writer and one was called upon to
use one’s freedom to produce works of the imagination, while employing the
skills given to us to fashion works (to be read out loud) out of words and silence, words infused with
compelling images. Today, I focus more
on discovering the right word(s) to build images, owing to a growing love of
words and I guess too out of advancing age where discipline is just as
important as freedom.
Q: What did you see happening here that you don’t see anywhere
else? What did Ottawa provide, or allow?
SASQUATCH poets, in the late 1980s, did once take a trip to
Montreal where we read at a well-known café in downtown Montreal. Compared to
the Montreal reading, we at the Rosie Lee Café appeared more laid back, freer. I
think Ottawa’s conservatism pushed some populist poets into a more rebellious
corner, poet Patrick White, being a good example.
For me, in particular, what was special, being bilingual and
bicultural, was writing in French, reading in French and attending francophone
readings on the Quebec side. On Laval Street, back then (so pretty at that
time), there were two cafes that held poetry nights. The most lyrical of the
two was the CAFÉ VAN GOGH, a charming establishment with a very friendly staff. There was another venue in Aylmer. One
of my good francophone friends, poet Michel Sincennes, was an especially gifted
writer.
I would imagine being able to move back and forth between
readings in Anglophone Ontario and Francophone Quebec by crossing a bridge is
pretty special in Canada.
There was also the Chilean poets, many of them Marxists
expelled by Pinoche who held the bilingual (Spanish and English) reading. ELDORADO.
When I attended ELDORADO, it was held at some restaurant in Little Italy (or
was it Bronson Ave.). Sometimes South
American music joined in the evening, and delicious empanadas too. CORDILLERA
was their publishing arm.
Q: What are you working on now?
I’ve just finished building and putting online my poetry and
short story website:
http://poetryandshortstoriesofphilmader.ca/
I’m continuing to add works to it, as well as publicizing its
existence.
Q: Have any of your projects responded directly to your
engagements here? How had the city and its community, if at all, changed the
way you approached your work?
I’m making an effort to publicize my website in Ottawa,
partly for sentimental reasons, as Ottawa is where it all started. I have to keep in mind that we are in a
different era where perhaps the word is not as respected as it used to be. In
my humble opinion, today poetry is the poetry of chanting and of drama, almost
street theater. I’m too old to change. I
mostly write inspired by the poets of the past that I have always loved.
