With her latest project, conceptual artist and photographer Carolyn Monastra has been traveling to places where birds are in danger of habitat loss. She hopes to spur viewers to take action around climate change.

With a passing glance, the Canada jay overlooking Peyto Lake in the Rocky Mountains of Alberta, Canada, appears to be completely real—but if you hold your gaze, an unnatural outline becomes clearer, and you realize you’re looking at a facsimile. The photo below is part of a project called The Divergence of Birds, in which artist Carolyn Monastra, FCRH ’88, photographs paper cutouts of birds in their native habitats—a nod to a future in which the real birds may be forced out of those current homes.

“Canada Jay” in evergreen tree overlooking a glacial lake

Monastra said that the idea for the project came out of reading a 2014 National Audubon Society climate report that found that 314 North American bird species will lose more than half of their climatic range by 2080—a number that increased to 389 species in a 2019 report.

Monastra, who also teaches photography at Nassau Community College, plans to photograph cutouts of each of those 389 birds for the project. Where she cannot travel to the actual habitats to shoot photos, she said, she will recreate the environment, and she’ll gradually document all the photos on the project website, along with some behind-the-scenes photos and videos of her process.

“I want people to understand that they’re cutouts from the time they come to it,” she said, “using that as a way to get them to pay attention to the birds in my photographs, see what’s happening to them, and then go outside and get engaged.”

“American Robin” with empty nest

“Brown Thrasher” in a magnolia tree

“Great Black-backed” Gull flying over sand dunes

Committing to Photography and Finding Inspiration

In the 1980s, Monastra majored in English at Fordham College at Rose Hill, where she was a member of the honors program, but she also took several photography classes at the Lincoln Center campus. One of her photography professors, Joseph Lawton, saw her talent behind the camera and encouraged her to pursue an M.F.A. after she graduated in 1988.

After several postgraduation years serving in the Jesuit Volunteer Corps in Santa Monica, California, and exploring a career in social work, Monastra followed Lawton’s advice. She enrolled in the M.F.A. program in photography at Yale Universityto “finally commit to being a photographer,” she said.

Once she had her master’s, she began teaching, and she has held several high school and college jobs, including a year as a photography instructor at Fordham. She has been teaching full time at Nassau Community College since 2005, all the while pursuing her own projects outside the classroom, like lovely, dark and deep, in which she turned to “the fragmentary space of dreams and my experiences with the environment to discover and create mystery in the natural world,” and The Witness Tree, which immediately preceded The Divergence of Birds and also dealt with climate change, in that case through a series of landscape images showing the effects of climate disasters.

Monastra first saw the Audubon Climate Report while working on The Witness Tree, and the wheels for a bird-centered project began turning. She thought about her own history with the animals, and she began buying books for research—books that would ultimately provide a more material kind of inspiration.

“I was really interested in how birds build their nests,” she said. “I’d never really been a birder until I started this project, but my mom always had bird feeders, so we always had birds around. I was buying all these secondhand bird books to learn about birds building their nests, and then I just started cutting them out.”

She also was reading Philip K. Dick’s science fiction novel Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? around that time, and she said that the dystopian world of the book, in which electric versions of animals are so realistic that no one can tell the difference between them and the real thing, resonated with her.

“That little part also made me think about this idea of facsimile and simulacra, and how sometimes we’re fooled by that. And in a future warming world, if we don’t protect what we have, that’s all we’ll have left.”

“Sharp-shinned Hawk” sitting on a rock with view of cityscape

“Yellow-billed Loon” swimming on a lake

“Rose-breasted Grosbeak” in forsythia bush

An Artist’s Responsibility

In addition to updating the project website on a rolling basis, Monastra has been thinking about ways to bring the project to a wider audience in various settings. In October, she had a residency at NYC Audubon’s environmental center on Governors Island, where she used the images for banners she could string throughout the center.

And much like a Postcards to Politicians project she created for The Witness Tree, in which she encouraged people to handmake postcards from her collaged images and send them to politicians to push for climate action, she would like to engage communities with The Divergence of Birds directly.

“Adopt a Bird will be something similar, using recycled materials,” she said of her next planned public project. “I’ll have all the pictures of the birds in people’s area, wherever it happens to be. There will be a pledge they’ll make, as they adopt that bird, to promote climate change legislation.”

Beyond hands-on, collaborative art, she hopes that the photos will not only get viewers interested in birds but also spur them to take action around climate change in other ways. That is, she feels, one of her guiding forces as an artist.

“I think artists do have a responsibility to use their gift to talk about these issues,” she said. “Whether it’s climate change or social justice or anything else, I think we have the ability to translate numbers and statistics into something that can move people.”

“Common Redpoll” in winter landscape

“Pine Siskin” in evergreen tree

“Canyon Towhee” in desert landscape

“Northern Saw-whet Owl” at dusk

First Light’s Spirit Song Festival is back for its 11th year beginning on Tuesday, showcasing Indigenous music, art and more from across Canada.

The festival runs from Tuesday to Sunday in St. John’s, and will feature over 60 Indigenous creatives from across the country. It started as a small event in St. John’s a decade ago, but Elder Emma Reelis of Happy Valley-Goose Bay said it’s great to see how it has grown over the years.

“Every year it gets bigger and bigger,” Reelis told CBC News Tuesday.

“I’m just really pleased, you know, that we are here today after 11 years,” added Charlotte Winters-Fost of Hopedale. “There’s been a lot of growth, and I’m really looking forward to hearing many of the talented Indigenous artists that we have.”

The festivities will begin on Tuesday evening with the opening ceremonies, featuring performances from Kilatuiup Spnguninga and the St. John’s Mi’kmaq Women’s Circle.

The event will bring Indigenous people from all over North America together, which Elder Majorie Muise said is always a highlight for her.

WATCH | 16-year-old Fred Fost, the grandson of Charlotte Winters-Fost, spoke with CBC Radio about what it will be like to perform at the festival:

He attended the Spirit Song Festival as a kid. Now he’s making his DJ debut

1 day ago

Duration 4:41

Featured VideoFred Fost, 16, is performing for the first time at Spirit Song Festival in St. John’s. He is among the youngest performers this year, but he’s no stranger to the festival, which celebrates Indigenous cultures. He’s been attending the festival since he was a young boy. Fost came on CBC’s First Light Fridays to talk with Amanda Gear.

“Tonight is going to be a celebration mostly of our own communities coming together. Our local communities, so that’s going to be really awesome,” Muise said. “And throughout the festival is going to be like a celebration of contemporary and traditional.”

Many events are open to all ages, which Reelis says is part of what defines the festival. She says events like Spirit Song are key in connecting youth with Indigenous culture.

“I think our youth is our today, and our future. I think we need to … get them more involved in things like this to learn more about the culture. Because it sort of went to the wayside with residential [schools] and the Sixties Scoop,” she said.

“A lot of the culture was lost, and I think through Spirit Song it’s all coming back.”

A schedule of events can be found on the Spirit Song Festival Facebook page.

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You talked about your rom-com and how you are still working on getting it out there. With working on it through the Lab, what were some opportunities that came out of that, from both working on that script, but then also the cohort that you had, and some of the folks that were involved?

What’s really great about the lab is everyone gets to connect with their mentors, but also connect with other people in the room. Tommy and I had known each other loosely before we were in a cohort together, but he was able to read my work, I was able to read his work and through that process,Tommy has put out the good word for me with the people that he’s working with. That sort of friendship building, but also interconnection, is really important, especially in the industry. I feel like that’s been one of the really cool things that has come out of the cohort. 

I think a lot of the time, there’s an expectation that you’re going to be plucked from obscurity by some network executive or some talent agent, or something like that, but I feel like often it’s people who like you, like your work, and think that you have talent. They put your name forward to somebody who’s looking for somebody to work on a TV show, to be a writer, to be a director, and that’s where a lot of the opportunities have come out of.

My rom-com worked as a very good spec script for me. To try to get more work in the industry as a writer, and also just trying to get more work as someone who’s a writer and director. So I think the opportunities have been twofold. But I really think what’s special are the friendships that we build and the connections you build within your own cohort — and then through just knowing other people who’ve also been in Sundance.

Was there any sort of before and after, with the Native Lab in terms of how you approach your own work as an artist?

I think [the lab] gave me more confidence to see myself as a writer. Because writing is very difficult and I admire people who love it and enjoy it. But it’s hard, and you’re trying to get ideas out… andalso be authentic to the stories that you’re telling. So I definitely think my writing skills have grown exponentially since the lab. And, from all the wonderful mentors I had and also through the process of securing work, being a writer on a TV show has also grown my skill set exponentially. All of them are little building blocks that help you to be better at your job. 

Looking back it feels just like yesterday, but also a million years ago when I was in the lab. I learned so much from the mentors, I learned so much from the other fellows in the lab, and I was able to take what I’ve learned and apply that to the work that I’m doing now for other people.

Is there a dream project you have that you would want to work on either from a directorial view, or writing, or both?

I would really like to have somebody fund my rom-com. I think this has been a lot of Indigenous folks’ experiences; it’s a long game of getting your work made and you have to stick to your beliefs, and really believe strongly in the work that you’re making, and that it’s important. So I think for me there are a couple of dream projects. Specifically, I would really like to make this rom-com. I’m still surprised no one has made a rom-com about Indigenous folks… I feel like there’s still such a gap missing. There’re a lot of historical films being made about Indigenous folks, but where are the fun comedies that are one off films? And where are the stupid Christmas movies that represent our experience and that share the larger modern interpretation of what it means to be Indigenous and what Indigenous Christmas looks like? What Thanksgiving looks like?

Those are the types of films that I want to make and I really want to see. I’m excited because it feels like the tide is turning a little bit. I think, with the success of Fancy Dance and Reservation Dogs, people can see the talent out there and are interested in these stories… So much groundwork has been laid by a lot of people to get us here.

There are many ways to make sure that queer Indigenous voices are heard. Music is just one of them. From indie rock to hip-hop, stretching from folk all the way to dubstep-tinged pop, a diverse cohort of LGBTQ+ Indigenous artists are representing the struggles, joys and complexities of their communities. They’re also just making damn good music. That’s why Them lifestyle editor Quispe López and I curated this playlist that’s perfect to bump during Indigenous People’s Month or any time of year.

Kicking off the playlist is Black Belt Eagle Scout, the musical moniker of singer-songwriter Katherine Paul. Her dulcet but melancholy track “Indians Never Die,” off her 2018 debut album Mother of My Children, was inspired by the Dakota Access Pipeline protests at Standing Rock. In a press statement accompanying the song, Paul made a powerful statement about the meaning of its title: “Imagine hearing on the news that the government doesn’t support you as a human being and never has […] Indigenous people are the protectors of this land. Indians never die because this is our land that we will forever protect in the present and the afterlife.” The poignant indie folk song meditates on that message with soothing vocals and somber guitar lines.

Elsewhere on the list, Colombian-Canadian Afro-Indigenous singer-songwriter Lido Pimienta delivers Latin alt-pop stylings on the undulating “Eso Que Tu Haces.” On the heartbreaking track, Pimienta sings in Spanish about coming to terms with a one-sided love while finding compassion for herself. Australian musician Mo’Ju also brings us a blues-inspired heavy hitter with their track “Native Tongue” off their 2018 album of the same name. The haunting track features The Pasefika Vitoria Choir with a gorgeous acapella melody that pairs perfectly with the soulful lead vocals.

But perhaps my favorite track on the list is from the Indigenous Mexican MC and vocalist Frosty. Her ’90s hip hop-inspired track “Not Exotic,” off her album All Frost No Ice, absolutely floored me. Frosty bravely and unabashedly leans into feelings of anger and rage, while waxing poetic about her Indigenous pride. Over a foreboding, bassy beat she raps, “Don’t call me exotic’ motherfucker / I’m Indigenous / and even in your most evolved state you couldn’t get with this.” I can’t wait to hear more from this self-proclaimed “rapatista” (rapper/zapatista) in the future.