Earlier this week, I interviewed McGill alumnus and visual artist Aquil Virani over the phone. A decade earlier, Virani had been “escorted out” of the same spot by a security guard who claimed that painting was a “misuse of the library.” He’d been working on his exhibition Copycat, which is now on display in the Leacock building.
Since graduating with a degree in Marketing and Philosophy in 2012, Virani has had exhibitions in Galerie Mile End, Centre Culturel Islamique de Québec, the Art Gallery of Ontario, the Royal Ontario Museum, as well as several online exhibitions. His most recent work, The Memoir Project, is a series of 34 book covers designed using the public’s responses to the prompt: “What would the title of your imaginary memoir be?”
The following interview has been shortened and edited for clarity.
Amelia H. Clark for The McGill Daily (MD): My first question is, do you have any favorite titles and covers?
Aquil Virani (AV): That’s a little bit like choosing between your children, but the one that stands out to me was, Oops: A Memoir, just because it’s such a short title and it’s vague enough that it could mean a lot of things, and yet it has so much character.
I did, in fact, choose one for myself, which I wouldn’t say mine was my favorite, but I did choose a title for myself that was Aquil Verani: Drawing, Connections. That’s part of the fun of the project and what makes it interesting is that each of the titles are interesting, both in terms of what people choose to depict about themselves, to share about themselves, and just the different ways you can go about it right. You could do a funny one, or you could do, like a really descriptive, very telling one, short or long. And so you know that that was very fun in terms of gathering the titles, one of the most fun parts of the process.
MD: One question I would have is why did you direct this question to the public instead of friends or family?
AV: I was interested in responses from the public in general to kind of imply that we all have a story, no matter who we are. So in asking anyone “what would the title of your memoir be?” you’re kind of implying that everyone has a story, not just my friends and family. That is, whoever would see that question has a story worth telling. I don’t think just my friends have interesting stories. I think everyone does.
MD: McGill isn’t really known for its visual arts programs, and yet it does produce graduates like you who succeed as working visual artists. When you were at McGill, what was your creative outlet?
AV: Both visual art and graphic design. There are pros and cons that I constantly think about whether or not I should have gone to art school, but I really appreciated being at McGill because of a few reasons. Number one is the people you meet, right? The people I met in my years at McGill I wouldn’t have met if I went to art school. Both the specific people, of course, but also the diversity of different intellects, different subject areas, and so on.
You know, I had friends in Engineering, in Arts, in Science and so on, which I don’t think happens as much at art school. The other thing is that being in an environment like McGill is very stimulating in a certain way, and because there aren’t a lot of visual artists or graphic designers around compared to art school, you’re given a lot of latitude to experiment and try stuff in an environment where there’s not so much pressure because there’s a million other artists all better than you, right? There’s kind of a freedom and a latitude given, because it’s not an art school, right? So I actually think that helped me a lot in looking back.
MD: You still have a bunch of artwork in McGill right now, including your exhibition Copycat, which I believe you made when you were a student?
AV: Correct! I did two exhibitions as a McGill student. The first one was pronounced “mind fuck”, spelled M, I, N, D, S, C, U, K, and it was in the art lounge in the basement of Leacock. Because I couldn’t find any other solo art show done by McGill student in my research, I marketed it as the first ever solo art show at McGill. Looking back, I wouldn’t do that now, but back then I thought that was a fun idea, and I made sure to not spell the F, C, U, K, so I wouldn’t be in trouble by McGill administration putting posters up.
And then there was Copycat, which was more actually in line with the work I have continued to do, that is to say participatory or collaborative artwork that, in a way, integrates or empowers participation.
MD: The work you did at McGill; What did it mean to you then, and what does it mean to you now?
AV: I’m very lucky and privileged to still be a practicing visual artist. And part of that gratitude I have is to be able to look back at work I made and see one of two things; It’s like, “Oh, that was really early experimental stuff I don’t do anymore, but I’m glad I did it,” or to look at work I did and say “That is actually still in line with work I’m making 10 years later.” There’s work that is participatory, or that integrated public participation, and that’s the work I’m still doing. So it’s cool to look back and feel, even as, you know, an 86 year old, I’ll still be interested in that since it’s kind of baked into the cake of my personality; and maybe that’s why I was interested in it then and why I’m still interested in it now.
MD: Have you always kind of had that sense, even when you were a kid?
AV: I grew up in Surrey, it’s like the Brampton of Vancouver. And so, a large majority of my friends were Punjabi, that is to say, either sikh or not sikh, so it’s a very particular upbringing because it’s a lot of second generation kids, right? Our parents came here to Canada, and now we’re growing up watching hockey and playing street hockey, and our parents don’t understand why we’re watching hockey, but they’re happy for us, you know, even though they don’t get it.
MD: And were your parents encouraging of your art?
AV: Oh, on the whole I would say yes. I think there was a bit of pressure to become a lawyer or to become an actuary. I was good at math and sciences as a kid and in high school, but I always had this sense that being an artist will make me the happiest, regardless of what that lifestyle implies financially. I told myself as an undergrad, I’d rather be sure about happiness and make the money work, then be sure about the money and make the happiness work.
MD: I think that’s totally the only direction to go, and especially telling considering things have worked out very well. I saw that you’ve won quite a few awards. How does it feel to receive such recognition for your work?
AV: I’m filled with gratitude at any kind of external validation of my work. Basically it’s an organization saying, “we like what you’re doing, keep going.” That’s how I see it. It’s sort of like institutional cheerleading, almost. And in line with those awards and with getting older and becoming a bit more assured in what you’re doing, the meaning of awards morph or change a little bit.
Like when you’re on a hike and you see markers on a tree, a pink ribbon. When you’re younger you see the markers on the trees, and you’re like, “Oh, I’m on track.” Whereas, as you get older, it’s like, “Oh, I’m still on track.” It’s a different feeling. It’s like I’ve reached the midway point of the trail, as opposed to earlier on when you’re like, “Where’s the trail? I haven’t seen anyone. I think I’m alone. It’s getting darker, and my flashlight is out, and I’m a little scared that I’m not even on the trail.” Whereas now
because I’ve lived through those years it’s like, “Oh, I’m still on the trail.” So, it’s a little less nerve wracking these days.
MD : Did your experience at McGill shape the artist you are today?
AV: Okay, two quick answers, and then maybe a longer one. Number one, definitely yes. My
years at McGill were formative in the development of my personality and my political values. They were formative in the friends I made. Attending McGill, for me, was like going to class with a bunch of people who are smarter than you no matter what, and so you’re just there to make such good friends with just about everyone who’s smarter than you. That’s very formative; both in terms of getting to know different people with different backgrounds and different life experiences, and I think it’s humbling. I think personally higher education humbles people because you’re like “I am in this context where I am a student by definition, that means I have something to learn from others, not only profs, but TAs, not only TAs, but other students,” right? You’re in a learning mindset which breeds humility.
The other thing I’ll say when I talk about my politicization is that I illustrated for the McGill Daily. When I think back to my days with the McGill Daily, it was not only really nice to be around a bunch of other illustrators, and engaged with the world around you in the way that being a student journalist or being interested in the news does is. But, I also think that I learned a lot in discussions with friends about how everything is political, and about the different power dynamics at play.
MD: I completely agree with what you mean about the vibe at the McGill Daily and the other student papers. It’s really nice to just be around other people who are as into it as you are.
AV: Totally, I learned Photoshop from working at the Daily and so when you talk about formative
years it’s like, how would I become an artist and graphic designer if I didn’t initially learn
the basics of Photoshop as a Daily illustrator? That’s scary to think about. Maybe I’d have become a textile artist or something. Whatever time I wasn’t spending at the Daily I actually would join the crocheting club and get really into that.
There’s something, and I’m not gonna toot the horn of student journalists because I’m biased, but there’s something about wanting to learn about the world around you, and making other people’s problems your problems, that I think engaging with the news does. Reading the news and caring about what’s happening in the world forces you, in a way, to be a citizen in the world and help shape the world you want to see.