New West Cultural Crawl August 12 and 13

Oh my there is so much happening in New West this summer!

Quickly approaching is the 14th Annual New West Cultural Crawl, taking place across the entire city once again on August 12 and 13, 2017. This free and family-friendly arts festival will see 37 venues across the five distinct New West neighbourhoods open their doors to celebrate the professional and emerging artists in the city. Besides the self-guided tour during the day, the New West Cultural Crawl is also proud to present many special events throughout the weekend that should be on everyone’s Crawl route:


  • Opening Night – Sneakpeak at the Crawl!

Friday August 11, 5pm to 7pm
Anvil Centre Community Art Space, 777 Columbia Street (3rd Floor)

Catch a sneakpeak at the Crawl and enjoy this reception in conjunction with the exhibition opening of “ArchiTEXTURE” by the New Westminster Art Services at the Community Art Space! Come mingle with the participating artists, enjoy a glass of wine from the cash bar and live music, and design your route for the Cultural Crawl!

Facebook event. 

“After the Rain” by Judy Villiet will be amongst the many textile works present for the “ArchiTEXTURE” exhibition!


  • Watch and sip some Latte Art

Saturday August 12, 12pm to 4pm

Sunday August 13, 12pm to 2pm

Blenz Coffee, inside Royal City Centre (next to Whitespot), 610 Sixth Street.

For some, a cup of coffee is nothing more than daily mandatory $2 expense to keep the day going; but for these baristas, it’s became a medium for creative outlet that is truly awe-inspiring. Blenz Coffee located inside Royal City Centre will be the home for expert baristas to show off the so-called Latte Art, with a competition scheduled on Sunday August 13 at noon! Be sure to swing by Blenz this weekend to check them out.


Come see the expert baristas demonstrate their Latte Art skills including rosettas, hearts, and etching.


  • Shakespeare crash course!

Saturday August 12, 2pm-3:30pm

Massey Theatre, 735 Eighth Avenue

Bard on the Beach’s Riotous Youth will take over Massey Theatre on Saturday to introduce Shakespeare and his plays in this dynamic, engaging presentation suitable for all ages. In one hour, audiences will learn about Shakespeare’s role in our society today and discover how plays written so long ago can be so relevant today.

Featuring the Riotous Youth from Vancouver’s Bard on the Beach!


  • Amelia Douglas Gallery exhibition opening!

Saturday August 12, 1pm – 3pm
Amelia Douglas Gallery, 700 Royal Avenue (4th Floor)

Check out the opening reception of the exhibition “Greenlinks 2017: In a Nutshell” at the Amelia Douglas Gallery! Refreshments, live music, and a free seed-paper making workshops!

The Boy Who Dares Dream of Tomorrow’ by Tracie Stewart.


  • Pechakucha Vol. 16!

Saturday August 12, 7pm – 9pm
Queen’s Park Band Shell

One of New West’s most beloved events returns to outdoor in on August 12, this time in the beautiful Queen’s Park Band Shell! This popular presentation format will see each speaker get twenty seconds with each of their slides. Cash bar will be available as well!

Check out the beautiful poster designed by Carter Hales!


  • Get cozy for the outdoor movie series!

Saturday August 12, at Sundown (around 8pm)
Port Royal Park

The popular Outdoor Movie series comes back to Port Royal Park on Saturday August 12, where they will be screening “A Dog’s Purpose”. The park is conveniently located right next to the Port Royal Dock where the brand Q2Q Ferry will be in service!

Bring a blanket and popcorns to share!


  • Super Fun Artshow!

Saturday August 12, 9am – 9pm
Sunday August 13, 9am – 9pm
Fat Paint Company, 140 – 131 11th Street

Local mosaic artist Ted Munz is hosting his and many other artists’ works at the FAT Paint Company, along with many other festivities! Make sure to check them out!

Super fun art show!


  • Crash the Mad Hatter’s tea party!


Sunday August 13, 11am – 5pm
Port Royal Community Garden, 83 Crescent Street

A garden wonderland with tempting artwork, toe-tapping tunes and tasty treats! Let the Mad Hatter of Queensborough hfashion your complimentary topper! Tea, goodies and live music from noon to 3pm, with activities till 5pm. Just steps away from Q2Q Ferry’s Port Royal Dock!

Fun for all ages!


Most of the 37 venues we have in the Cultural Crawl this year will feature some demonstration and/or hands-on workshop, some great examples being Brick and Mortar Living(42 Sixth Street/52 Sixth Street) and The Playground Co. (1012 3rd Avenue). Take a look at our website with neighbourhood-specific maps so you may plan out your routes!

Also check out our Instagram contest for during the Crawl – the more venues you visit, the more chances you get to win! Contest info here. Come get your Crawl on!

Metz & Chew Complete New Westminster’s *birds on a branch*

The bird’s the word around New Westminster’s Front Street Parkade this summer, thanks to a recent work by artists Jacqueline Metz and Nancy Chew.

Collectively known as Metz & Chew, the duo responded to an open call from the City of New Westminster for a public art installation with hopes of completing their first large-scale, urban project. In the past, their work has been much more intimate, making the notion of seeing 660 feet of their own art open to the public an exciting creative challenge for the collective.

“We were fascinated by the idea of passers-by interacting with such enormous images,” says Metz & Chew. “Secondly, we found the surrounding urban landscape compelling – a working riverfront, the lush waterfront park, train tracks, bridges, the somewhat industrial façade of the parkade, the heritage storefronts behind. Layered in with all this are the historical memories of the riverfront and of the Victorian town beside it.”

Their goal with the piece was “to weave a bit of the natural world into a prosaic parking garage façade, to insert a little of delight and whimsy – several stories high – into a working waterfront, [and] to bring a bit of pleasure to the your day.”

Image used with permission by photographer Michael Love.

The concept of birds on a branch was inspired by the historic metropolitan area, nearby riverfront walk, heritage homes, and lavish gardens that are truly unique to New Westminster. As a “playful counterpoint to the industrial facade of the parkade,” the piece is lighthearted while remaining meaningful to anyone who’s known or visited the riverside community. Even the ideas for the appearances of the birds depicted in the work originate from the birdsong that can be heard in nearby forests and gardens, although their specific shapes and sizes are purely suggestive.

Anyone travelling via Skytrain will be able to spot birds on a branch on their commute from the Skybridge, but locals will likely pass it by as part of their regular routine. To get an especially picturesque view of the piece, stroll through Westminster Pier Park and peek through the greenery to see the stark yellow birds residing on the building side.

Image used with permission of the photographer Michael Love.

The bold yellow colour of the piece, deemed “parkade lemonade”, was chosen as a sunny, optimistic hue that will stay vibrant throughout the seasons. It sticks out beautifully on the chain-link of the Front Street Parkade—described as Metz & Chew as an almost glowing effect from inside the structure. Because of its size, it can be seen as abstract both close up and from a distance.

birds on a branch will be officially revealed to the public at a Fridays on Front event on the Front Street Mews on July 7 at 5:00pm. The event will lead attendees on a public art tour of the City’s recently completed public creations, and a flock of white doves will be released to celebrate the finalization of birds on a branch. Metz & Chew will be in attendance and will speak at the event.

Arts Coordinator for the City of New Westminster, Biliana Velkova, has been organizing the city’s public art project since it began. She is thrilled to have worked with Metz & Chew, and is looking forward to the seeing their work around the city.

“They were really creating something really unique and special for the city, which I think they achieved with birds on a branch. We needed to add some colour and something playful on the structure, which also plays with the overall beautification and building installation in the area,” says Velkova.

She continues, “Our community is very supportive of the arts, and I think public art is a really good way of showing this commitment.”

Image used with permission of the photographer, Michael Love.


A Little Night Music comes to the Anvil Theatre May 11-21

Photo by David Cooper. Actors Warren Kimmel and Katey Wright

Stephen Sondheim’s music and lyrics come alive May 11- 21 at Anvil Centre Theatre in Patrick Street Production’s A Little Night Music. This sophisticated Broadway musical, which includes the hit song “Send In the Clowns,” has won 6 Tony Awards (including Best Musical), a Golden Globe, and a Grammy. With Hugh Wheeler’s wry, witty script, and Sondheim’s luscious score this romantic romp among mismatched couples explores the joys and frustrations of love and sex at all ages and stages. A true celebration of love and desire in three-quarter time. Directed by Peter Jorgensen, this runs Wednesdays through Saturday evenings at 8pm with a matinee May 14, 20, and 21 at 2pm. Opening Night is Saturday May 13. Preview tickets are available May 11 and 12 for a reduced fee ($21.50 + $4 service charge) or seats May 13-21 range from $21.50-$35.50 (+$4 service charge) through TicketsNW or call 604-521-5050.

But you can win a pair of tickets to opening night just by commenting on this post! 



Based on the Ingmar Bergman film Smiles of a Summer Night, A Little Night Music is a tangled series of interwoven love affairs at the turn of the century among the elite that takes place at a weekend country estate. The story begins with the esteemed lawyer Fredrik Egerman, (Warren Kimmel – who some of you might remember recently from Fiddler on the Roof and “It’s Tradition!”) who has recently married an 18-year-old virgin, Anne. The couple lives in the same house with Fredrik’s young son Henrik, (Caleb Di Pomponio) who has also fallen madly in love with Anne.  Fredrik’s dedication to his blushing bride is tested when he reunites with former flame and aging actress, Desiree Armfeldt (Katey Wright in a role played by Catherine Zeta-Jones and Dame Judi Dench among others) It all gets more complicated when Desiree’s jealous, married lover Count Carl-Magnus Malcolm (Nick Fontaine) gets wind of the reunion. All of these trysts and twists come to a head when Desiree convinces her mother to host Fredrik and his family for a weekend on her lavish estate – where the Count, with his wife Charlotte (Lindsay Warnock), crash the party.

Photo by David Cooper. Actors Nick Fontaine, Katey Wright, and Warren Kimmel.

Night Music gives us the opportunity to immerse ourselves in the work of two geniuses,” says director, Peter Jorgensen. “The first, Ingmar Bergman, one of the most influential filmmakers of all time, and the second, Stephen Sondheim, who managed to deepen and enrich Bergman’s story with his glorious score and incredible lyrics.”

Since its original 1973 Broadway production, this musical has enjoyed professional productions around the world including in London’s West End, by major opera companies, by the Stratford and Shaw Festivals, and in a 2009 Broadway revival. It was adapted for film in 1977, with Harold Prince directing, and starring Elizabeth Taylor, Len Cariou, Lesley-Anne Down and Diana Rigg.

Patrick Street Productions is a dynamic exciting musical theatre company creating quality productions of contemporary musicals that thrill, excite, provoke and above all, entertain. A Little Night Music is the epitome of a Patrick Street production – sophisticated music, complex characters, and a story written with intelligence and heart. 

Comment on this post for your chance to be entered to win a pair of tickets to opening night! Contest closes at 5pm April 30, 2017. One winner will be selected at random. 


The Ghosts of Havenholm (Part Six)

This is an ongoing series written and illustrated by JJ Lee. New to Havenholm? Start at the beginning!

The story so farOscar and his ghostly friends Tough Tom and Willa, find themselves trapped on the creepy wood hill of Havenholm. A river, created by the wizard Maurais, prevents them from crossing into the afterlife. Many years before, Willa’s parents had been sent to find Maurais and break his spell. Before they could, the wizard set fire to Havenholm, killing Willa and her parents. Now, she and Oscar dig through the ruins of her burnt-out home in search of the secret to defeat their enemy. Oscar discovers a rusted cash box. Monsters attack.


Chapter 8, Part 6

        They hurt her first.

        The animated bird-like tangles of twine, twigs, and black feathers beat their wings and took to the air. Some climbed high above the treetops then tucked and dove at Willa. Others darted straight at her.

        Willa, who could walk on air and pass through walls, felt each blow. They struck her head and face, her arms and stomach. They hit her and fell to the ground. Then, like marionettes pulled by invisible strings, they lurched back to life. They flung themselves again. Only at her.


She raised her left hand to protect her eyes but held on to Oscar with her right. He wanted to lash at them. He tried to wrench away and pulled, but Willa would not let go. The more the black missiles rained down, the tighter he felt her on hold him. The things with black feathers clawed at her hair. She pulled him through the woods toward the safety of the Great Tree. If only they could make it to the Tree. One of the black feathers crashed into her gut and she collapsed to the ground. They swarmed Willa like rabid vultures.

        Oscar screamed, “No!”

        Early on in their friendship, Simon (who was Oscar’s first and only real friend before he moved and met Willa) tried to roughhouse with Oscar. He punched Oscar in the shoulder. Oscar, as an only child and because of his heart condition, was warned by his parent never to engage in the ritual of cruel, companionable contact. He understood that this particular mix of pleasure and pain was one of the stages of developing boyhood bonding, but he couldn’t bring himself to punch back. His response was tentative, restrained. Oscar tapped on Simon’s shoulder as if he were a door he did not wish to open. Simon realized the futility, and never attempted to play rough with Oscar again.

        Outside of the time he kicked Willa in the face, Oscar never really let go and hit something well and hard. He just did not know how to fight but, indeed, he was fighting now. He freed his hand and wielded the rusty cash box as a weapon with left and right. His fingers crumbled the hard dirt that encrusted it. He began to bat away the creatures away from his friend. He stomped and bellowed and kicked. He crushed as many as he could until they retreated to branches beyond his reach.



Oscar knelt down beside Willa. Her arms covered her face. He said, “Are you, okay?”

        She did not answer. He watched her chest heave up and down, at first fast, but then it slowed and deepened. He expected her face to be covered with tears and snot. “Willa?”

        She unfolded and rose. He only saw rage. Her eyes looked past him and into the woods. She snarled through gritted teeth, “Maurais.”

        A tremor whipped through the flock of black feathers. She shouted out her tormentor’s name again. Fists balled, feet stamping, she yelled in all directions, at the birds, at the trees, the river, the world, “Maurais!”

        The echo of her voice faded. Oscar saw deep in the woods, moving from behind a trunk, a man in a long black coat, his hair white, his face narrow, his grin cold and mean. He tapped on Willa’s shoulder and pointed. “Willa?”

        The stranger looked left and right and then trudged towards them. Willa unleashed a wail no mortal could make, a piercing call that belonged to the dead and otherworldly lost. It was a sound that made children hide under their beds and parents bolt the front door. Her voice cut through the cold air and through Oscar’s dead heart, “Maurais.”

        The ground shook. The man’s leer was now replaced by a frown. Again, the hill rumbled.

        He turned to look behind. He staggered a few steps and then began to run toward the friends. He drew, from over his back, a long dark gleaming sword. Oscar said, ‘Willa, maybe we should go?”

        “No,” she replied. “We drew Maurais out and Tough Tom is coming.”

        Tough Tom, who looked like an eight-year-old, was the oldest ghost among them. Oscar believed Tough Tom was the most powerful being, living or dead, he had ever seen. Oscar thought of Tough Tom the way he had thought of the Hulk or Superman, except Tough Tom was real.

        The hill trembled. The man lost his footing. He looked back one more time and got back up. The trees behind the man in the long black coat, quivered, cracked and fell. The black feathers, nearly forgotten, became agitated and began to knock against themselves and, as they did before, against trunks and branches. It was not Tough Tom. What came bashing through the woods was a giant mass of mud, ferns, rocks, vines, and roots, a shambling creature, lifeless like the black feathers but much larger, as big as a car or a small van. It took giant strides, thumping its way towards Willa and Oscar. It extended a coil of twisted roots and tried to ensnare both children. Willa dragged Oscar back. It lunged again. Oscar bashed it with the cash box.

        Willa said, “No.”

        She pushed Oscar in the direction of the Great Tree. “Bring it to Tough Tom.”

        “What about you?”

        “Just go.”

        “Where’s Tough Tom?”

        “I don’t know. Just go.” She gave Oscar a hard shove that hurt him, though not physically. “Run, stupid.”

        This time, it was Oscar who was determined not to lose his friend. He tried to clasp his hand over hers, but she slipped from him. As he was about to grab at her again, the heaving mass of mud splayed open to reveal an inside writhing with beetles, snails, millipedes, spiders, deer bones, and larvae. Oscar quailed, let go, and sprinted like a rabbit pursued by weasels. “Come on. Come on.”

        Willa did not follow. The black feathers, however, did. He cradled the box, shut his eyes, lowered his head, and plunged through the woods, hoping he was going the right way. Everything, the branches, the bramble, the creatures ripped and clawed at him. Still he ran. He broke into the clearing. He could see the Great Tree, home and safety. The black creatures honed in on his legs and feet. He tripped and cartwheeled. The box flew loose.

        Maurais’ flock swooped under him. The flying things swirled around and lugged Oscar high into the air, away from the ground, away from the Great Tree. They carried him to the north side of the hill, to Maurais’ house. The sick feelings of terror and shame gripped him. All he could think was he had abandoned Willa. He was a coward.



Chelsea Comeau is the winner of the Arts Council of New Westminster’s Lit Fest New West Fiction Contest, sponsored by Dale Darychuk and us! Chelsea’s piece was selected from a number of entries, by a panel of judges, and first appeared on our April 2017 print edition. She is the artist in residence at Anvil Centre in April 2017. 


Lilli is unsure, at first, if the voices in the other room are coming from her television. The conversation she hears is hushed, and could easily be an intimate moment shared between two characters whose lives have been written for them weeks in advance. Perhaps they discuss conspiracy. Perhaps they are in love.

But then one of her daughters mentions the funeral home, which is named for a poisonous flower that grows in humid places like Los Angeles, and nowhere near New Westminster. Lilli realizes her children have finally begun to talk.

She takes her hearing aids from the glass dish on the nightstand and hooks them around the backs of her ears. Everything comes, at once, to life: the sound of traffic below the window, spoons in the living room colliding softly with the sides of tea cups.

“Dad wanted to be cremated,” Janice tells the others. “He said so after they diagnosed him.”

Lilli couldn’t remember ever hearing that, but her other two children concede easily because neither one of them wants to ignite an argument. Not when everything is so fragile. She imagines the precise way in which Janice is sitting, one leg crossed over the other at the knees, the tight line of her mouth commanding her younger siblings’ attention the way it always had.

“I think we should show Mum the brochures tomorrow. The home on Eighth beside the high school is taking new residents.”

Trina’s voice, which has always been the softest, is barely audible above the sound of a pickup truck driving by.

“It’s expensive, don’t you think?”

“She’s ninety-four. Does it matter? She won’t be there long.”

There’s an intermission of quiet while Trina pours herself another cup from the teapot that Lilli and Gerald received sixty-eight years ago as a wedding gift. The design painted onto it is royal blue, the windmill so perfect amongst shrubs and brush-swept grass that if you sat and stared long enough, it seemed as though the thatched blades actually moved.

Daryl, however, is not lost in the teapot’s realism. He is the first to breach the silence with a calmness rehearsed for three hours on the plane.

“I think we should give her a few days before we start bombarding her. She’s in spectacular physical shape. She could live another ten years, for all we know.”

“Husbands and wives who’ve been together as long as Mum and Dad typically die within short periods of one another.”

Janice is indignant, as though this is a scientific inevitability, and Lilli’s days are most certainly numbered.

“That’s really messed up, Jan.”

Trina bristles in her seat, but offers nothing to the conversation. Lilli remembers bringing Trina home from the hospital in the middle of August, how bored the other two seemed with the idea of diapers and endless howling. Trina spent much of her early years engaged in the solitude of an only child, and very little had changed over time.

Daryl drains the rest of his tea in one bulging gulp. Lilli hears the hardwood groan as he crosses the living room into the kitchen. He stands next to the sink, and considers the peppermint grains left behind at the bottom of his cup, adrift on the little puddle that lingers at the bottom of any drink, no matter how deep the final swig. He wonders what a fortune teller would have to say about the arc of them, if the shape might have something to do with one or more of his chakras.

He is quickly forgetting the tranquility he practised so carefully before coming home, and the crowdedness of everything begins to creep up on him. Every corner of Lilli’s apartment is full, the suite straining at its seams with useless souvenirs. There are stained-glass hummingbirds suction-cupped to the kitchen window, and ceramic archangels in a row on the sill: Michael brandishing his sword, Gabriel bearing a slender trumpet.

“Packing this place up is going to be a nightmare,” he remarks, to no one in particular.

Janice brings the serving tray and empty tea pot to the sink. She turns the metal stopper at the mouth of the drain and fills the sink with hot water. The dish soap is a purple syrup that smells of synthetic lavender. “We’ll never find a place with room enough for everything. It won’t be packing so much as throwing things away, or selling whatever’s worth money.”

Daryl unclasps his watch and sets it on the counter before plunging his hands into the water. “Dad’s lucky,” he says. “You hear all those stories. People getting lost, freezing to death. At least he never wandered off.”

The kids didn’t know, of course, about the night Lilli found Gerald a block away from the apartment, without his shoes. He’d tried to open a locked car that wasn’t his, and sat on the curb with his hands over his ears to muffle the alarm.

“I hope I go in my sleep, too.”

“Yeah, but then someone’s going to wake up next to your corpse,” Janice reasons. She opens the cupboard beside the stove, finds a clean dish towel, and begins drying the cups. This is all Lilli has ever wanted for her children, domestic intimacies peppered with family banter. “How long do you think Mum was sleeping next to a dead body?”

“Jesus Christ, Jan, shut up!”

“I’m just being realistic.”

Janice puts the tea cups in the cupboard above the sink. She keeps the pot out a moment longer and turns it over in her hands, considering its value, allowing her imagination its brief wildness. Suppose it was worth something, after all…

“I’m going back to my hotel,” Daryl announces, then. He has spent every measure of tolerance within him. He dries his hands on the legs of his sweatpants, leaving two dark smears behind. “I need to get some sleep.”

Lilli listens to their vague good-byes, the obligatory ceremony between siblings obligatory, like communion at the end of mass.

Daryl phones for a taxi and leaves to wait for it outside on Carnarvon Street. Lilli smells the cigarette he lights as soon as he exits the building, a thin curl of smoke creeping in through the crack in the window. It’s early winter, but she can’t abide how closed the room seems tonight without fresh air.

“I love how he shows up in a crisis and acts like he’s son of the year,” Janice snorts, joining Trina again in the living room. “You and I are the ones who came in every week to check on Dad. We drove him and Mum to all the appointments.”

“And now we’ll probably be the ones to find Mum a new home.”

Lilli unhooks her hearing aids again. They shriek until she pops the batteries out their bottoms, and puts them back in the dish on the nightstand. Without their echo, the room becomes a soft womb of quiet.

She thinks the bed has grown larger, somehow. The gully of distance between her side and Gerald’s, which had seemed narrow before, now expanded into something so huge, it is almost frightening. She turns onto her side and, draws the duvet tightly over her shoulder.

The morning Lilli decided something was very wrong with Gerald, she’d found his car keys in the vegetable crisper, and phoned their doctor to make an appointment. She knew the diagnosis before it was given to them from across the small white table, and there was some comfort in that. She would not be steamrolled by astonishment. The news would not break her.

But it seemed as though, in the days after, the word itself was enough permission for Gerald to relent to the disease completely. He began to depend on Lilli for everything, and often left their room in the middle of the night to rearrange things throughout the apartment. She brought him into the bathroom with her while she showered, sat him on the closed toilet seat and hoped the locked door was enough to slow him down before she noticed he was trying to leave. Sometimes she wept quietly behind the curtain while she washed herself, thin veins of soap unraveling between her breasts.

How awful it was, everyone said, to forget your children, your wife, to forget how to eat and tie your own shoes. Friends visited on weekends, their eyes brimming with pity and that little gleam of relief to know that they could soon go home and live different, undamaged lives.

But none of them considered how awful it was to be the one to remember. How could Lilli explain to them the thin sound of her husband’s voice, its pleading in those luminous moments to let him die, his quick forgetting of that, too. The wildness in his face before the white pillow between Lilli’s hands closed over him. His flailing, and the long night that followed. Its silence.


Featured Artist: Mardell Rampton

Working intuitively with colour and cloth to create her textile paintings, Mardell Rampton’s artworks invoke feelings of peace, tranquility, and calm. The textile palettes are created by hand-dyeing and hand-painting cloth in colourways reflecting the natural beauty of the Pacific Northwest. Sometimes these colourways are the misty greys, blues, and greens of a stormy winter’s day, other times, they are the brilliant colours of a coastal summer day. The influence of a long-standing love of the oceans, skies, and forests of the west coast of Vancouver Island permeates the pieces.

Mardell’s process of freehand cutting individual thin pieces of cloth and composing the artwork piece-by-piece is a meditative journey. The artwork is made more textured by densely stitching over the entire surface, adding subtle nuances of colour and providing different ways for the light to land and be reflected.

Mardell’s work has been shown in group exhibits across Canada and in the US, including My Corner of the World (Stratford Perth Museum), Soul Food and Moving Parts (Visions Art Museum). Her work is included in private collections in Canada, the US, and Australia.

Mardell is a studio artist, working from her studio at 100 Braid Street Studios in New Westminster, BC. You can view Mardell’s work in person at her open studio on the first Saturdays of the month. She received a Diploma of Arts and Science from Malaspina College (1980) and a Bachelor of Science in Computer Science from the University of Victoria (1985). Mardell will also be featured in a group exhibition at Anvil Centre, Architexture, this summer.


Get in touch with Mardell:

Instagram: @mardell
Twitter: @mardellrampton
Facebook: /MardellRamptonArt
Studio: 100 Braid St. Studios