Hilary Meng is a FORCE—besides being our most recent student intern, the young designer/photographer/polymath is co-founder of Edmonton’s Circe Magazine, a showcase of local creative talent that recently celebrated the printing of their third issue.
Below, Hilary shares a bit on the paths that led her to Edmonton, to design, and to Circe—read on if you (like us) want to one day say that you knew about Hilary BEFORE she blew up!
Growing up in Edmonton, I knew we were famous for the Oilers, summer festivals, the endless snow and of course, West Edmonton Mall (can’t forget about the mall with the morally dubious live animals in the basement)! I moved here with my family from Toronto after my father found a job during the 2000s oil boom. I wasn’t always the talkative type, so art was always the “thing I was known for,” kind of like how Edmonton is known for the mall, I guess.
The funny thing about art is that often the process is solitary, yet the result is meant to be seen by everyone else. Your family knows you drew the pretty flowers that hang over the kitchen table, but they don’t know that you mixed Yellow-Orange crayon with the Carnation Pink crayon for the second flower to the right. This odd isolating juxtaposition between the realm art is created in and the place it’s supposed to be showcased in exists through almost all creative mediums. Only the photographer has their eye in the viewfinder when a photo is taken, actors rehearse alone in front of bathroom mirrors, and writers hunch over a laptop propped on their knees in bed.
In 2021, during my second year of university, I met Rose (a fellow “art-kid” who is also a film photographer and neuroscience major). We chatted about the lack of creative spaces among emerging artists within our city, which was made worse by COVID-19. To be honest, at the time, I wasn’t even sure if a creative community was possible. I think all of the remote work fried my brain to the point I couldn’t conceive of actual artists taking part in real-life interactions beyond a Z**M call. Do artists even like to party? For me, art has always been something I did by myself, so I wasn’t sure how it could translate socially.
Everything in our small world at the time was on social media. Rose and I knew there weren’t many accessible local platforms for young creative people to showcase their work. Most magazines and publications were aimed towards established creatives, they lacked accessibility, or they were targeted towards a niche medium. We wanted to create a safe space with one entry requirement: that our members enjoyed doing something creative, whether it was a career pursuit, a passion, or simply a hobby.
A few months after that chat, we had assembled a small team and launched our non-profit Circe Magazine, a yearly print publication featuring works submitted by emerging Edmonton arts community (photographers, fine artists, poets, musicians, et al). We were not 100 percent sure what the response might be, but because we basically were our own target demographic, we found our people almost instantly; as it turns out, we had all been looking for each other the whole time.
Now, in 2024, Circe Magazine has released three issues and featured the works of hundreds of emerging creatives, not only from Edmonton but from all over North America (and even abroad)! We hosted Circe’s Weekend, our second launch event which was a three-day launch party with musicians, DJs and a market space, earlier this year in a gallery space. Seeing this community in person felt surreal and pivotal. (To answer the previous question, artists definitely liked to party.)
The arts manifest in many different forms, yet the souls of those who do it can come together in a breathtakingly unique and inspiring way. Like a poem sits beside a painting within the pages of a magazine, in real life, a poet dances next to a painter. Suddenly we’re no longer by ourselves, but we’re all together.
I met this girl we had featured in the latest issue; she dropped into the gallery space during one of the quieter moments in the day. When I spoke to her, told me she was nervous to come to the launch event itself due to how busy it looked like it was going to be. I convinced her to come with her friends, telling her I could also introduce her to mine. A couple months later, I actually bumped into her at West Edmonton Mall of all places and she told me all about how she had the most fun and was so happy she chose to come. It made my day.
Let me be a little egotistical about YEG here (since no one ever is): It is amazing how wholly and genuinely supportive of one another the people of our community are. Our city truly has a community unlike anywhere else. No matter if it’s the girl who picked up her first camera last year or the senior designer at Curio Studio (hey Graham), our people are passionate and supportive, and they show up for you. Edmonton is a city for the arts and we see this through collectives like I’ll Call You Tomorrow, Stratus and New Standards Music who have all created spaces in our city for us to come together.
Now, after many years in Edmonton, I can say that we’re still known for the Oilers, summer festivals, snow and the great West Edmonton Mall. But I’ll also add that Edmonton is a city for emerging creatives that believe in one another. We, as artists, make Edmonton just as much as it makes us.
Hilary, one last note from your pals at Curio: Thanks for sharing your talents and your inspiring work ethic with us for the past four months! We look forward to following your career and offering our support wherever we can!
This post was last updated on May 1, 2024 by Matt Steringa