Vancouver’s own takes Melbourne – an interview with Meiwa, aka Kristie McCracken.

Vancouver-born dream-soul r&b babe Meiwa is taking Melbourne by storm with her ethereally beautiful new single, Wonder. The songwriting for her new track comes from a deeply emotional and spiritual place. “This is the first track I released as Meiwa. It was written this past Valentine’s day when I was feeling particularly blue. Instead of eating chocolate and drinking wine in bed, I dragged myself to a yoga class. During a heart opening posture, I had wave of emotion surge through me and began to weep and my mind went to a place I had been once before. I was approaching what I thought was a deserted island when I saw a little girl climb out of the trees. It was me as a child. She asked, ‘Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for you.’ And we walked along the beach together, getting to know each other again. What I interpreted from this was that my inner child had been abandoned for nearly 25 years, and stuck at this specific age from a traumatic experience that was never addressed. The song is illustrated through the eyes of my inner child, asking adult-me, ‘Did you forget? Did you care for me?”

Meiwa officially launched her new single on June 29th at Some Velvet Morning in her newly adopted home of Melbourne. “The launch will be my first performance with a full band; Michael Cooper on keys, Jamie Stroud on bass, Ryan Haus on drums, and Helena Leijon Eriksson and Nic Duqe on backing vocals. The rehearsals are sounding amazing and our energy together is beautiful and magnetic, I look forward to many more shows with these legends!”

Meiwa was born to be a musician and has been supported all the way by her musical family members. “Mum says I was singing when I was born and attributes my vocal abilities to being colic as a baby. Ha! Some of my earliest memories are singing karaoke at family parties, ‘Somewhere Out There’ from the movie An American Tail was my jam… closely followed by ‘Country Road’ and anything by the Bee Gees. My grandparents on both sides were very musical and creative; on my mum’s side, my gung gung played many classical Chinese instruments and my poh poh was a beautiful classical singer. My grandma on my dad’s side was a school teacher and played the organ and accordion. Both my parents can sing (they might argue!) though neither of them pursued music. We grew up listening to Bob Dylan, Neil Young, The, Rod Stewart, Bee Gees. My parents have always been incredibly supportive of my brother and I in pursuing music.

The first song I wrote was on the piano around age 4 or 5. First song on the guitar at age 10. I was in choir and band in elementary school; in grade 7 I played bass guitar in jazz band, that was a real highlight. My first performing band started in 2001; an all girl 4-piece band called Stained Glass. We had 1 song and 2 dance routines. It brings me joy reliving these memories – I’m currently laughing out loud!”

Kristie’s first real performance as a solo artist was in 2007 at the Media Club in Vancouver. “It was Aaron Nazrul’s (The Boom Booms) album launch party. You can still find the Youtube videos floating around. That’s where I met my singing soul mate, Janette King. The moment we sang together, we burst into tears, it was magic. At our first jam in August 2008, we recorded 3 songs and created our band The Ponderosas.”

The Ponderosa’s quickly became a hit on the Vancouver music scene, attracting the attention of both local artists and travelling musicians: “We attended an open mic at Calabash Bistro, where we met Patrick Watson Quine and Jonny Holisko of Natural Flavas. After our performance they invited us to join them on their Bob Marley birthday bash tour. We continued to sing backing vocals for Natural Flavas and got to support iconic artists including ‘Mr. Rocksteady’ Ken Boothe and Leroy ‘Heptones’ Sibbles. I’d say opening for Toots and the Maytals at The Commodore was a real highlight.”

Building on this early success, The Ponderosas became a well-known name here in Vancouver over the course of 6 years; playing festivals like Shambhala and Victoria Ska & Reggae Fest, and opening for international artists like Shaggy and Barrington Levy. “We were coined ‘world pop party band’”

I ask Meiwa about her experiences growing up as a female musician in Vancouver: “Fronting a band from the age 20-26 with another young woman of colour was an incredible experience. I think that the love and support we had for each other as bandmates and friends had a massively positive influence on how we experienced being in The Ponderosas and in our interactions with others in the music industry. We built Pondies from the ground up and were shown a lot of love along the way.” 

But this incredibly powerful formative experience of female solidarity was not without it’s hardships: “Sure, I cried during sound check a few times in the past as a result of being disrespected by a sound technician. I think that stuff will continue to happen regardless of who we are, and it’s not okay, and we need to be comfortable standing up for ourselves. I have since had many opportunities to stand up for myself in an assertive and graceful manner.”

Having said this, Meiwa is able to recall many times where she has felt respected and valued by musicians and music professionals of all genders: “As a backing vocalist, I have had many positive experience. In 2012 at a rehearsal for Victoria Ska and Reggae Festival, Leroy Sibbles of The Heptones requested we do a live video of “I Shall Be Released” acapella (check it on YouTube). And I’ll never forget at Surrey Reggae Festival in 2016 when Luciano the Messenjah took the time to introduce every band member by our first name, and he also called me empress. You can imagine, I squealed! To be clear; not all artists know or remember their backing bands on a first name basis. In many cases, we meet for one rehearsal before the gig and then we play. Overall, I have felt a lot of support and have had positive experiences as a woman in the Vancouver music industry.”

Meiwa is an inspiration for women and girls who love music – she is a fiercely independent woman who is passionately following her dream, wherever it may take her. Her advice? – “Surround yourself with people that care about you and that inspire you to be the best version of yourself. It’s all about building community. My top three pieces of wisdom are:

1. Try new things! I’m always trying new things however big or small; sometimes it doesn’t work and then I try something different. At the end of the day it’s all working towards growing as a musician. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard “I wish I could play (insert instrument)”. Try it! Try every instrument and give it a solid effort. You never know until you try.
2. Ask for help when you need it. We can’t do everything on our own. And asking someone for help builds trust and strengthens relationships. Offering your help is important too. The music scene isn’t about sizing each other up, it’s about building each other up. We’re all in this together.
3. Speak up and stand up for what you believe in. You can start a movement!”

The reality of being a musician is that you’ve got to be prepared to put the work in. “It involves a lot of sitting in front a computer. On average per week, I spend around 30 hours doing administrative work and 1 hour performing. Set up a good work space, stay organized, and be prepared to hustle! Being accountable and professional is huge! Also, learn how to properly wrap a cable! Surprisingly, it is a skill that not many people have, and my goodness is it valuable, especially when you’re working with other musicians, technicians, and engineers.”

Inspired by her success here in Vancouver, and encouraged by a whole host of awesome musicians, Meiwa relocated to Melbourne in 2017 to pursue her music career. “In spring 2017, I joined Vancouver band Buckman Coe on tour as backing vocalist and support act in Australia for a month. We had such an amazing time and I met so many wonderful people that I knew I’d be back. Later that summer in Vancouver, I met some really lovely musicians from Australia who were planning to tour BC and Alberta. The same night we met, I decided to help organize and join them on tour, and we had an epic few weeks of shows and adventures. In an attempt to lessen the heartache of having to say goodbye on our last day together, we sat around my kitchen table and I booked a flight to visit them in December. And what do you know, I’m still here! I’ve since rebranded from Kristie McCracken to Meiwa, released a single, got together a band of phenomenal musicians and all-round legendary friends, and have plans to tour and play festivals over the next year. I’ve also had the honour of joining Australia’s first lady of R&B, Thando, on backing vocals. It’s all been an incredible experience and I am so very grateful!”

For me, Meiwa’s story is a reminder that hard work and determination are all you really need to make your dreams work. Yes, it’s going to take time. No, it ain’t going to be easy. But if you love something enough, it’s worth your time and energy. Act from a place of love, badass babes.

Any last pieces of advice from this musical powerhouse?
“Your music is valuable and there is space for it in this world, whatever genre it is, or whatever box anyone tries to put it in. Keep doing you! Put your music out there, set up a Soundcloud account and share your music.”

 

 

Girls Rock Camp Vancouver: An interview with Ana Rose, organizer and ex-camper.

“Girls Rock Camp is designed to empower female oriented people to become part of the music industry, because it is very male dominated.” Ana Rose Walkey first joined Rock Camp as a thirteen year old camper in 2009, and now she is a key member of their team of organizers. “There’s a week-long camp every summer. The kids can learn to play whatever instrument they want – they don’t have to have experience. They form bands with other campers, and the goal is to write a song with your band and perform it at the Rio theatre.” Since 2009, a dedicated group of volunteer organizers have dedicated vast amounts of their time and energy to create, manage and sustain the incredible project that is Girls Rock Camp Vancouver.

“Girls Rock Camp is about letting these girls have an open space to express themselves. Everywhere else in the world there are taboos and walls that you have to jump over.  We try to include everyone.” Ana Rose tells me. “Anyone who identifies as female can join the camp. I’m super passionate about feminism – it’s so important. Because feminism isn’t just about women – it’s about being inclusive and getting rid of all kinds of oppression.” Ana Rose talks openly about how her views on equality translate into her work with Girls Rock Camp: “We really want to make sure that we incorporate all gender identities and sexual orientations. It’s awesome to have a camp that’s as inclusive as it can be, financially as well – it’s a sliding scale, so if you can’t pay the full cost just give what you can”. Rock Camp takes place each summer at the Urban Native Youth Association on East Hastings, “We have really good community connections and we’re very lucky because they donate that space to us every year.”

Ana Rose plays drums, but she’s not currently playing with a band. “I haven’t had as much experience of performing in Vancouver as I would like to. I find that I can be hesitant to share my ideas, especially in a group of guys. I’ve been in those situations many times where I’m in a band the male members write all the songs and there’s no changing it. That was the rule. They are really talented, so that’s awesome, but I found it weird because part of the creative process is letting other people have an input.” But more recently, there have been some positive experiences of working with other musicians “Luckily I’ve been jamming a bit with a friend of mine now, he’s super supportive and also kind of modest – so he will write a song but ask for my help, and that’s really nice. Finally I’m in a space where I feel perfectly comfortable. And we are able to tag-team and write a song together as opposed to someone saying ‘here’s what I wrote. Here are the chords. Play them.”

Ana Rose also experienced sexism as a female musician in her high school band “We had a rock band class, which was so awesome. But I was the only female drummer of course, and I always found that my teacher would put the guys on the good songs, even though I could play them. We did Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns N Roses which has always been one of my favourite songs, I LOVED playing that on the drums. But at the school show, he gave the song to a male drummer – I remember thinking, come on man! I love this song, I wanna play it! It was kinda frustrating, and it got to me.” But her experience at Rock Camp has meant that Ana Rose was determined not to let this stop her from pursuing her passion for music “On the flip-side, there’s Rock Camp and the group of women that I’ve met through that, who are all so talented and helpful. And I’ve found it interesting that when you get immersed in a scene that’s just women, it’s a totally different experience – everyone’s just having a good time. I of course there are cases of jealousy and rivalry, but in general we are more supportive of each other instead of tearing each other down. We all go to each other’s shows. And I know that if and when I do get into a band, they would support me 100% – I already have a fanbase! It’s shown me that it can be just a matter of finding the right people to surround yourself with.”

Ana Rose tells me that she could “blab forever” about Rock Camp and how it helped her as a young musician in a male-dominated industry, and she is clearly very passionate about the project. “Honestly, the reason I became a musician is because of Rock Camp. It’s really cool now, being an organiser and seeing more of the behind the scenes stuff and actually realizing how much work it takes to put this on. It’s this group of women who are literally volunteering hours and hours of their time to put this on. And that in itself is so inspiring. Just to have people who care so much about this. It’s crazy, having being a camper, to see how much goes into this.”

At this point, I play the stereotypical journalist and ask Ana Rose what advice she would give to young women who’d like to explore getting into music. She laughs: “Step one: go to Rock Camp! But on a more serious note – I still struggle with this, but just believe in yourself, trust yourself and try to get your voice out there. Yeah it’s tough, but music wouldn’t be a thing if people didn’t just put their stuff out there. But yeah – go to Rock Camp. That helps a lot. We’ll all support you, we’ll be there for you, we’ll get you on your feet.”

“Volunteering at Rock Camp is so rewarding!  It’s such a magical thing. I always have to prepare myself not to cry when I talk about Rock Camp because it really changed my life. It is the push that brought me back into music. It can be tough as an instructor, because you’re in a room with ten kids and you’ve got the 8 year old who’s never played their instrument before and then you’ve got the 17 year old who can play better than you. But then it’s kind of nice too because you get the older kids helping the younger kids. And they do that on their own terms a lot of the time.” Girls Rock Camp are looking for volunteers to support their camp this year (July 9th-13th): “Get involved! Even if you don’t have a musical background you can volunteer.”

Movements like Girls Rock Camp are redressing the balance at a grassroots level – teaching young women that they can achieve creatively in a world that still seems determined to encourage us to believe that we have to ascribe to patriarchal gender roles. Teaching people of all genders about equality is the only way to generate real change, and Girls Rock Camp is doing an incredible job of perpetuating that message across North America (and further). Find out more or sign up at https://girlsrockcampvancouver.ca.

Stand up and find your voice: An interview with Sam Shakspeare, Tour Coordinator

“I always loved music – at school I played instruments and did singing and was like ‘I wanna be a musician!’ but I realized that it’s a really cut-throat industry and I decided that I would rather work behind the scenes. I’m pretty driven – I want to be successful but not necessarily in the spotlight, in front of tonnes of people. I’d rather just be good at my job and be recognized for that.”
Sam Shakspeare immediately strikes me as someone who has always known what she wants, and who has worked bloody hard to get there.

“I wanted to do something creative and I came across my degree, which was Bachelor in Creative Industries – it had a big focus on networking, which was great. Throughout University I did internships at booking agencies and worked as a promoter on the side. So I hit the ground running as soon as I graduated – I applied for a job and I went to Sydney and got a job interview. And while I was there, I sent my resume around to other agencies in the city.”
This focus and determination paid off pretty quickly – Sam interviewed for two agencies and was offered jobs with both of them.
“On Saturday I got a call from the company that I’d originally gone there to interview for, saying ‘can you start Monday?’ And I was like ‘Well, I have to move to the city…’ – I was living in Brisbane. But then this other company contacted me and offered me the job as well. So it was the most full-on weekend I’ve ever had! And I made an informed but, I wouldn’t say snap decision, but I was under a lot of pressure, I had to do it quickly. I decided to go with the company that I didn’t originally go to Sydney for. It was a bigger agency. I definitely think it was the right decision.”

But despite this exciting start to her professional career in music, Sam’s first post in the industry was made challenging by the culture of the workplace that she was thrust into.
“The work environment was very male at that specific company. It was hard, in the sense that there was definitely, not necessarily among the agents themselves, but among the senior people, a misogynist tone, and there were no female agents. I got a job there in the accounts department, so I started there and then I moved into logistics.”
The chauvinistic conditions at the company led to Sam, as one of very few women working for them, being subjected to a plethora of stereotypes about women – such as being warned not to gossip or ‘spend too long in the bathroom’, and definitely no tears.
“So from the get-go, that was the tone that was set. There were some really great agents who had the opinion that they should help me progress because they busted their balls to become an agent. But there came a point, and I guess a big part of it was because of how male dominated the company was, where I thought, I can’t go on like this. I wasn’t enjoying it. I stayed for a year. It was my first job out of University so I knew I needed to last at least a year. And I learned so much, it gave me such a thick skin. I learnt how to be resilient. I figured that if I could work for this company, I can work for anyone. I 100% had to work harder to prove myself in that role because of all these preconceptions. I think that’s what women have to do in the music industry anyway – they have to work harder. I think Nicki Minaj said ‘if you’re a man and you’re successful and you work hard at something you’re a boss, but if you’re a woman you’re a bitch.”

“So yeah, I kind of kicked off my career with that negative experience. I think I knew it was wrong because I knew what I was made of and I knew what the other girls that I worked with were made of. I knew it was bullshit but I was determined. I just really wanted to prove them wrong, and even though I was so miserable, I told myself I had to be there at least a year. But honestly, I learned so much. I met a bunch of people through the company and I don’t at all regret working there. I really valued my time there and I met some really great people. I think that in the music industry, if we’re going to be blunt, the old guys are going to have to retire if things are gonna change. Once people are set in their ways, it’s very hard to change their minds.”

Sam now works in music management here in Vancouver, for a company who, she tells me, are far more progressive and employ a plethora of awesome women working in a range of different roles. Her experience here has been very much more positive and she has already experienced the opportunity for progression and personal growth. “Our company is working towards making a change. And I have no doubt that a lot of women have had to prove themselves in the industry, and that’s starting to be recognized. I think that the younger men are becoming more socially conscious, but I think that also it’s because women have stood up and found their voice.”

“Pick a side, punk boy.” – Representation in Music. An interview with Trish Kelly and Victoria Spooner

Trish Kelly and Victoria Spooner are members of local band The Charm Offensive, who came together through their shared experiences of tackling marginalization and fighting for diversity in music. Trish (vocals, bass) and Victoria (bass, keys) are working hard to increase the representation afforded to women and non-binary people in the music scene here. Their recent show at The Cobalt is a prime example of the mission for equality that Trish describes: “I want to make sure that I’m not forgetting to think about stretching. Whether that’s looking for a band who have never played a show and giving them a chance […] or thinking about, from a racialized community perspective – how do we hold that space and make it available. If the bill doesn’t include a band that represents a type of diversity that we don’t embody ourselves, we’re not done planning the event.”

Trish grew up on welfare, amidst a family backdrop of alcohol and drug addiction, but she refused to let this hold her back, and has been planning and organizing music shows since she was 16 years old.
“The first festival I ever organized was a three-day music festival to benefit the charity Women Against Violence Against Women. I was 16 years old and we raised $1600. […] A youth worker at the neighborhood house helped me and some schoolmates create a youth drop-in centre at the Lonsdale Rec Centre. During the off-season for curling, we got use of the Curling Lounge, and we started to put on shows there. And that built confidence – I’d just discovered Riot Grrrl, I was reading ‘The Beauty Myth’, and that summer I wanted to put on a show for women, in fact 3 different shows in different venues across Vancouver. And then I started doing spoken word, and in my first show I was performing alongside Rancid. I spoke about consent, My bestfriend stood on stage with me and held my hand while I shook and did this speech. The singer from Rancid (Tim Armstrong) came up to me afterwards because a bunch of crusty punks in the back of the room had been yelling during my set, and he told me ‘you did a great job! Keep doing it, that was so awesome!”

Similarly, Vic’s formative experiences as a female musician in the UK formed her passion for helping other women take up space in a male dominated scene and giving people a platform to use their voices.
“Playing bass in bands in London, everyone I played with, more or less, was a guy. Until I went to University. But even then, I studied pop music at Goldsmith’s and there were 28 of us in my class – only 8 of us were women, and I was the only woman who studied an instrument. Everyone else was a singer first. I think that speaks volumes about the pigeonholes that women are put in. I read Lucy Green’s book on music and gender – looking into how, in terms of what we code as ‘feminine’, it is inherently ‘female’ to sing. That was something that really hit home to me. When I read that, I wondered about my connection to my instrument. Am I feminine or not feminine if I play bass? So I made this the subject of my final research project, talking about the feminization of the bass guitar and hyper-masculinity within the world of rock music.”

This supportive attitude toward other female musicians and lack of pretension is what brought Trish and Victoria to make music together in the first place.
“Basically she fangirled me”, says Victoria, laughing.
“Douse (Victoria’s other band) were playing and it was just a magical night of seeing a band I hadn’t heard of, who were fronted by a non-binary person and showcased the musical talents of multiple women. And I thought ‘that bass player is going to be my friend’. So when they finished, I just told her how much I loved the band. […] It reminded me of one of the things I really enjoyed about being a young person who was a huge fan of music – there was no pretence. If you liked someone and what they were doing, you just went up to them and told them. There was no worry that you were going to be rejected or that any kind of seediness would get in the way. It reminded me of when you’re really excited about discovering someone’s music and that overcomes any social awkwardness.”

This meeting eventually lead to the pair combining their ideas and resources on a whole host of projects supporting people who don’t always get the opportunity to have their voices heard in music, including last month’s phenomenal show at The Cobalt.
“I really feel like something changed in the Universe that night” Victoria tells me, “I don’t know if it’s just my experience – that lots of things have aligned to make me feel like there has been a shift. There are a lot of female bands and musicians here. I feel lucky to know a lot of them.”
Trish sees the shift slightly differently “I feel like I’ve watched women claim space, take it up, and support each other for 20 years, so for me it’s not new. The saturation is something that feels newer to me. […] But there are still lots of bills that end up being all male.”

Both women recognize the privileges afforded to them as white feminists, and speak openly about trying to use this to give a platform to those whose voices are still not being heard.
“Gender representation is definitely getting a lot better. And also diversity in sexuality. But one of the things that rock music does not do well at representing is race” Says Victoria, “We need to work on it. Because if you don’t see people that you identify with in bands or at shows then you’re always going to feel excluded. And I’ve been thinking lately about how that changes the type of music that you’re into, or that you write. […] I wanna play, like, metal – but there are very few examples of women doing that in the exact genre I’m thinking of”.

Trish speaks passionately of her aspirations of booking increasingly diverse shows:
“We all need to ask ourselves, are we looking to create a scene or community that just validates who we already know we are, or are we looking to widen the net and our perspectives. This is a place where white women actually have a privilege. And along with white male musicians, they can exercise that – the way we’ve been asking men to for a long time – like, hold the space, and then step the fuck back and make space for others. Now that women have more saturation, let’s make sure that we make space for someone more marginalized who is out there doing stuff but never gets a slot. Even though I play music now, I would be willing to organize a show and not play, in order to make sure that representation happens.
Vic agrees: “Go and find someone to get behind. Use your privilege to give someone else power. You can still be involved, but do it from the other side.”

Trish tells us that, as a 16 year old Riot Grrrl, she spray-painted a t-shirt for a convention in Washington that said “Pick a Side, Punk Boy.” We all agreed that we’d love to see these tees make a comeback.

Maybe this time around, the message should be “Step Aside, Punk Boy.”

Women in Sound Tech – an interview with Mariessa McLeod

Mariessa McLeod, Sound Technician at Red Gate and Rain City Recordings (amongst a million and one other venues who rope her in to set up for events and bands), is an absolute champion for women working in the music industry here. She is also a woman who is completely, one hundred percent, unapologetically herself. And although, as she explains, she has never concerned herself with “fitting in”, it took some time and a whole host of incredible influences for her to feel this comfortable with where she’s at.

“I wasn’t really a good student, in fact I was kind of a shit head” Mariessa admits, when I ask her how she got into working in the music industry. “But there was this one teacher who gave me an offer. He said: ‘if you stop lipping off your teachers, and you at least hand in your schoolwork booklets, I’ll send you to this recording studio for your work experience hours.’ And he followed through on that.” At the age of just 16, Mariessa was sent to train at The Hive recording studios in Burnaby.
“I really thank him for being like ‘I don’t think you’re going to be a failure in life, I just think that no-one’s giving you any good options right now.’ As soon as I got to the studio, I felt like I really changed as a person, because I was around adults, and they let this young kid come into the studio. And they were so nice to me – I didn’t know any technical stuff, and they showed me everything I needed. I was hanging out with bands instead of teenagers!”

Mariessa is astonishingly hard-working. She frequently works the night shift at Red Gate and, after a few hours sleep, goes straight to Rain City in the morning. She is very nonchalant about this state of affairs – for her, it has always been this way. “At the Hive, I would work 12-14 hours a day. It was completely unpaid. I would clean the toilets and vacuum and run cable and wrap cable […] but as soon as I started getting it, they started giving me more opportunities. […] It was really cool working at the Hive. when it shut down I was upset. […] I was graduating too so I needed to start making money, so it was really scary.”

But it wasn’t long before people in the industry caught on to the potential that this bright and determined young woman has in spades, and offers came flooding in. Mariessa was asked to join other Technicians from the Hive at their new venture, Rain City Recordings. She was then also approached by another remarkable female Technician, Anju from Co-op Radio (Mariessa describes her, with great affection, as ‘a powerhouse of a woman’), who asked her to be the technical assistant for the station. At 18, she also started working for Red Gate and getting regular gigs at the Biltmore and the Astoria. “I was getting all these offers and I was like, I don’t think I’m right for the job, but if I turn down these offers now I’m not going to get them again. […] I have learned that if you burn out you’re no use to anyone. But that has taken me a lot of years!”

One of the first things that strikes me about Mariessa is that she exudes an air of calm, self-assured professionalism. She’s a person you feel you can innately trust to do a job properly. Despite this, Mariessa explains that she’s experienced discrimination many times; simply because, in an industry dominated by CIS white men of a certain age, she is not what many people may expect when they imagine a Sound Technician. Mariessa is full of stories that exemplify this prejudice at it’s very worse. Like the time she was patronized by a band who repeatedly asked her (and other staff!) to confirm that she was, in fact, their sound tech for the show, and who explained every request in very basic terms, assuming that Mariessa couldn’t possibly understand the technical terminology that she’s spent the past 7 years immersed in. “It doesn’t help that I look, like, 12 years old!” she says, laughing. “There isn’t just a difference between men and women in the industry. It’s also young and old. Like when you tell someone that something isn’t working at their end, and they insist that it must be because you don’t know what you’re doing, and you’re required to prove again and again that the problem is, in fact, their mistake. […] When a booking is questioning something, and the manager says ‘you need to refer to our Technical Director, Mariessa’ […] it helps to have that kind of backup.”

“I’ve gotten in arguments with people like ‘don’t call me honey!’ and when I was younger it used to really upset me […] but now, because I have so much support from other people, they’ve put enough confidence in me so that when people are like ‘where’s my sound man?’, I’m like ‘I’m your sound man, what the fuck do you want?’ […] It doesn’t need to be a boys’ club. The amount of guys who find out I’m a technician and they just spout specs to me, and model numbers of gear – like ‘oh, have you tried the QSCFTLGX with the crossovers at 196 hertz to 256k’ and I’m like ‘you’re just saying words at me.'”

But Mariessa is not just fighting her own battles with the CIS male saturation of music tech, she is also paying it forward by extending the support she’s had to other women and femme-identified people who are interested in taking a role in the field. “When I hire more technical staff or I need a technician, I try to shift the focus from CIS white dudes and offer jobs to female identified or gender variant young people. You have to do something – if you get good opportunities it’s kinda your obligation to try to continue that. You have to help the upcoming generation of people. Because if all the young kids get scared away, there’s not gonna be a scene here in 15 years, so you have to be inclusive, and you have to try and help people who can’t get gigs as easily in other places. […] It’s my dream to have a space and open up workshops for young people who want to get into tech.”

Mariessa is an incredible role-model for young women who want to work in music, and for me, this epitomizes my feminist ideals of women supporting women, but Mariessa does not necessarily see it this way.
“One of my biggest pet peeves is if I’m talking to somebody and I correct them, being like ‘hey, you shouldn’t use the term ‘sound man’, you should use ‘sound tech’ or ‘sound person’ […] and then they’re like ‘oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you were a feminist.’ And the thing is, I don’t even know if I consider myself a feminist, and that’s why it makes me so angry. […] I’m just doing what I want to do, and helping other women or femme people do what they want to do. Why does that have to be a label? Isn’t that just being a decent human? […] Why do I have to be a feminist if I’m a woman working as a technician? Why do I have to be an SJW if I think that you shouldn’t use homophobic slurs? That doesn’t make me anything, it just kinda makes you a shitty person. […] I don’t think it really needs a label, especially from some 50 year old white man trying to tell me what I am.”

Mariessa assures me that the Vancouver music scene is a place where many people are taking steps toward more diversity and representation.
“With all that’s said, I think it’s important to note that there is a sort of change on the horizon. […] I think we’re in a good place. Vancouver especially is trying really hard. The best sound tech in Vancouver, hands down, is Swann Barrat, and that’s known all around the city. If you ask anyone in Vancouver who the best sound tech is, nine times out of ten they will say Swann. She’s definitely someone I aspire to be like. […] But also it’s the men in the scene who need to say ‘I’m not gonna let this happen’, as well. They can unlock the door from the inside instead of us having to smash it in.”

After my conversation with Mariessa, I feel safe in the knowledge that, if there are any doors that still need to be smashed in, she’s the woman for the job!