The palette of protest

Rarely will you see protests without art, and often will you see it go beyond symbolism

Protesters picket the Hall auditorium. Photo Alice Martin

Most of the time, protesters don’t march in the streets empty-handed.

They brandish handmade signs, banners or anything to get their message across. In any protest, art serves multiple purposes to strengthen the broader cause.

“I personally really love the use of art in organizing and protests,” Arts and Science Federation of Association (ASFA) academic coordinator Angelica Antonakopoulos said. “Art in protest is a very eye-catching way to send a message, instead of having to go person-to-person and tell them what you're trying to accomplish.”

Tuition hike strikes

Over five days last March, the tuition hike strikes mobilized students from select student associations to enforce hard picket lines. Hard pickets require students congregating in front of a classroom to dissuade other students from entering. 

With dozens of classes having to be picketed at the same time, and only so many students, protesters used hand-painted banners with dual purposes: displaying their demands and protecting protesters.

“[Banners] are big, they're flashy,” Antonakopoulos said. “They have a message on them. [Students] don't have to come up and talk to you and they still get the gist of what the protest is about.”

According to Antonakopoulos, Concordia’s Code of Conduct prohibits students from physically blocking a classroom. She said banners act as a bypass.

“[Students] were more than free to lift the banner and go underneath if [they] really want to go into class,” she said. “It protected both students that were picketing and students that were dissenting towards the cause.” 

She said that banners help students “think twice” before crossing a picket line, as well as avoid physical confrontation.

“There was a lot of verbal engagement with students with flyers and FAQ sheets coming out,” she said, noting that that was what picketers were told to do. “[But banners] send a poignant message in a non-confrontational, peaceful vehicle.”

Students paint Mackay Street to advocate for its pedestrianization. Photo Alice Martin

Pedestrianize Mackay

In September 2023, the Pedestrianize Mackay group staged a protest demanding that Mackay St., between Sherbrooke St. and Maisonneuve St., be closed to vehicles and converted into a pedestrian area for students.

For Mowat Tokonitz, communications vice president with the Urban Planning Association, it was one of the first student mobilizations he was part of.

“It's something that really interests me and it relates to my program,” Tokonitz said. “I think it's important to have actual campus space outside that we can use, while also having less cars.”

The protest consisted of blocking Mackay St. at the intersection of Sherbrooke St. Demonstrators also painted an enormous version of the vibrant pink, green, blue and yellow Pedestrianize Mackay logo on the road.

Tokonitz said painting the road was a good way to appropriate the street and show its potential to a wide range of Concordia students who pass by daily.

“The fact that we also had the street blocked off, and we had picnic tables and banners and things in the street, it gave a very basic example of what that space could be in the future,” he said. “It really didn't take very long for there to be street furniture on Mackay and for people to be out eating lunch. I can only imagine what it would be like if that was permanent.”

Looking back on the tuition hike strikes and Pedestrianize Mackay, Antonakopoulous said the mural painting was a great way to engage students in the cause.

“It’s always really a fantastic way to build community because mural painting is not like a picket. It's not like a protest,” she said. “We need to be cognizant that there are a lot of people that don't engage with that, right? They don't engage with noise, they don't engage with confrontation.”

Ned Mansour’s sixth chalk drawing, made on Aug. 30. Photo Alice Martin

Divest for Gaza

The pro-Palestine student encampment at McGill University stood strong for over 70 days before being demolished on July 10. To protect itself and the privacy of campers, the encampment used a variety of colourful handmade signs from different student movements on the gates.

When a private security firm dismantled the camp, the colour didn’t stop. Activists still gather daily in front of the Roddick Gates to repeat their demand: for McGill to divest from companies involved in arms manufacturing and the settlements in Gaza and the West Bank.

This is the case of Ned Mansour, a Montreal artist whose father is Palestinian. He has been coming to the gates for over a week—a new tradition for him. He aims to go to the Roddick Gates every day, barring rain and other engagements.

Mansour was working on his sixth painting when he met with The Link. This painting was inspired by a photo he took. 

“I try to choose something that has to do with what's happening right now, with the genocide, and just a reminder of how many days it's been since the genocide has started,” he said. “I try to pick images that are visually striking and can fit on this thin column.”

Mansour’s paintings are made with chalk, something protesters have been using every day to write messages and demands on sidewalks and university grounds. As a wedding photographer with experience in drawing, Mansour applied his skills to McGill’s walls.

Despite squabbles with security, his motivation to keep drawing remains steadfast.

“Every day that passes, somebody's being killed in Palestine, and the genocide is happening in real-time,” Mansour said. “So I wanted to do something that's in real-time as well. We feel here, it seems like it's almost a mirror image of what's happening in Palestine. Obviously, we're not being killed, but there are forces that are trying to silence us.”

Mansour’s chalk drawings, like the days that go by, are ephemeral. Every night after he finishes drawing, security washes them away, providing him with a fresh slate for another drawing.

“They think that by erasing our work and our message, that we will stop, but what they're doing is actually encouraging us to come back and remind them again of what's happening,” Mansour said. “Just like the Palestinian people that are being erased right now.”

This article originally appeared in Volume 45, Issue 1, published September 3, 2024.