Q&A with the co-directors of Italian Mime Suicide

“Why is a laugh similar to a cry?” asks Kari Pederson, who explores the idea with co-director Adam Paolozza in their mostly silent production at The Theatre Centre.

By: Rowan Flood

A scene from the production of  Italian Mime Suicide. (Courtesy of Andrew Jehan)

Named one of 2021’s top 10 shows in Montreal by the Montreal Gazette, Italian Mime Suicide came to Toronto this spring. The show, which remains silent for most of its duration, follows a mime who is deeply hurt when he believes his craft is not appreciated. Yet as an artistic endeavour, it holds much more. 

In an interview with CanCulture, the directors, Kari Pederson and Adam Paolozza, explain how the production examines the way we perceive and express sadness, laughter and ways to be silly. It also explores the hard question that has become even more demanding throughout the pandemic: “Why do I keep making the art that I make when it feels kind of hopeless or doesn't seem like anyone's interested?” said Paolozza. The questions that are explored throughout the show and the ones it asks the viewers make it a commanding piece of work.

It can be hard to detect emotions and energy through a screen, but Pederson's and Paolozza’s were unmistakable as we came together over Zoom. The two co-directors of the production Italian Mime Suicide felt much respect and admiration for each other as they spoke. Pederson entered the meeting first, smiling when she got a text from Paolozza saying he would be a couple of minutes late, and Paolozza came second with a cup of coffee ready in hand. As we began to talk, the two filled each other's sentences to add importance to the humbly spoken phrases and remind one another of missed points and achievements. The care they felt towards each other continued with their apparent devotion to their production. Paolozza emphasized how Pederson "lifted it up and made it what it was." Pederson reminded Paolozza of how his Italian heritage and time spent at l'Ecole Internationale de Theatre Jacques Lecoq impacted his desire to create the play.

Italian Mime Suicide was first formed in 2016 and showed in Montreal last year before arriving in Toronto. The show opened to the public on April 23 at The Theatre Center and welcomed an excited crowd. People hugged and greeted one another warmly yet tentatively. The feeling of coming to see a live show was unfamiliar to some after two years of an isolating pandemic. I overheard a woman ask her friend when she sat down, "Is this too close? Yet the atmosphere was hopeful, and he responded, "oh no," as she sat down close to catch up. The lobby and cafeteria quickly filled as the starting hour approached, and many people seemed to know each other as voices rose in recognition. 

A 2003 article about an Italian mime who died by suicide inspired this artistic project, explained Paolozza. Although the headline is dismal and going on twenty years old, it remains poignant and finds relevance to this day through Pederson and Paolozza's captivating show. When we spoke, our conversation covered how this show began, how beauty is found with and through sadness, and what this play means for the two directors.

The director and dramaturg Kari Pederson for the show Italian Mime Suicide. (Courtesy of Kari Pederson).

The artist director, creator and performer Adam Paolozza for the show Italian Mime Suicide. (Courtesy of Adam Paolozza)

What first sparked the interest to create Italian Mime Suicide?

Paolozza: When I got back from theatre school I really wanted to make a show about mime. I was looking for a subject matter and my friend sent me an article. It was a really short obituary. The headline was “Italian Mime Suicide,” and that’s where I got the title. I thought that was an intriguing title — kind of funny, kind of sad, this tragic comic thing. It stuck with me. Over the years I kept trying to think of a good context, a good way to expand on that and it really started to come together when Kari joined in 2015. I’ve always liked mime but I’m aware you get teased sometimes. There is a kind of cringe factor that Kari and I were interested in exploring as also part of the audience experience. 

Pederson: If I could expand, it wasn't just theatre school, it was Lecoq. It is a physical style of theatre but some people refer to it as “Mime School.” Adam is also half Italian and I think that's a little more context of why it rang a little more true at that time. I came in as a stand in and when we started working we tried to find the meat of the project. We realized the meat isn't necessarily the true story of a man, we didn't even know him. What rang true or what was interesting about this title was that tragic comic. There's this fine line, and why does mime sit on that fine line? How does that fine line live in us? Why is a laugh similar to a cry? Why is sadness sweet sometimes? With mime, in particular, it’s both. It's cringeworthy but I love it. 

Do you feel you found something you personally related to in this story?

Pederson: Yeah, even though on paper I don’t come from a circus or mime background, I do come from performance and dance. Even my thesis research is about performance. Specifically, how deep, internal, unconscious acts of mimesis actually shape who we are, how becoming is relational. We only become who we are through our relations to others. I think theatre does that. With research on kinesthesia they found that when audiences are watching dancers or performers, similar synapses are figuring in their own brains. That’s happening even in an audience of Italian Mime Suicide. What was really exciting to me was more so these deeper or esoteric hooks. On top of that we really had great performers.

Paolozza: I wanted to make a show that could put some of those things like Kari was saying, that are sweet but also sickly sweet, on stage. Similar to Kari, I’m interested in people's bodies and their personalities. For us, it was important to have the different body shapes in actors. Kari also has a background in visual arts studies. There is a sense of how the image is constructed, sculpturally, with light. That also really attracted me to the work.

I’m interested in this thing between clown and mime. We like to make people feel safe to be silly, and see what comes out of their personalities. I really want to find a way that silliness can be taken more seriously. When you have less words there's more space to relate to a piece in a different way. 

The performers, Rob Feetham, Erika Leobrera, Adam Paolozza and Nicholas Eddie on stage. (Courtesy of Andrew Jehan)

What makes bodily gestures so significant, specifically in performances with minimal speech?

Paolozza: One thing I really took away from school is, how do you create the space out of which text arises? All of the relations of the bodies and all that before language arises is a rich territory to explore for drama. In that grounding, the gestures have a slightly different meaning. I think we relate to that, if you’re waiting for the bus or waiting at a dentist office. It’s a very archaic way that we read each other, the way we move, the inclination of the head. We wanted to create more space to explore that. I also just love the expressive body. Something I’m interested in exploring is the invisible gesture. Every work proposes to an audience what it’s trying to do, maybe in an unspoken way. It's engaging with certain questions and I think that's the deeper gesture. It's not a physical gesture, it’s more the intention of the creators. The gesture for us is the relation between seemingly opposite things. Sadness or laughter.

Pederson: In this context the importance of gesture in live performance especially in Italian Mime Suicide, where there are words and narrative but it’s not so much spoken by the characters in the show, it doesn't run it. Our approach was more similar to visual arts, where we want to create an image, and then we want to live in the image. Rather than telling a story with our words the approach was more about bringing a living image.  A gesture is an embodiment of surroundings. I think that's the heartbeat of the show.

Was there a vision for what you hoped or wanted people to walk away with after seeing the production?

Pederson: I think we had hopes. Speaking of gesture, in some ways this show is our gesture for the audience. You can never know what someone is going to walk away with. Everybody has different tastes, different expectations. I think we wanted it to be sweet, even though it was funny, we wanted it to be something real, slightly reverent. We were unafraid of the absurd. If an idea came up as we were divising, if it made us laugh out loud and shake our heads we were like “”hmmmm?” 

Paolozza:  There's a hope there to get the audience in a space where they feel okay to enjoy things that are in some sense are childhood things. A lot of the clown work relies on that childlike naivete. You don't realize you look silly, and being comfortable in your own imbalance. That tender thing that Kari is talking about, it's trying to give that feeling to the audience. Giving them that assurance, that it's okay to laugh, if we are acting silly it creates more safety for that softness between people. 

How does the play or can the play have relevance to what's happening now in the world as we come out of a pandemic and things are opening up?

Paolozza: The questions in the show are the same: Why do I keep making the art that I make when it feels kind of hopeless or doesn't seem like anyones interested? All artists, probably all people, struggle with that existential question. Something about saying that now, after the pandemic — being in public, hearing live music, being able to laugh — I think it has given it a different poignancy. It's cool to see how a show changes. We're grateful that the searching and the questioning of the show is connecting to people. 

Pederson: I think the catharsis feels sharper now. We’ve collectively gone through this thing. Probably most people would say these past two years have been harder than others.

A scene being enacted by performers Rob Feetham, Erika Leobrera, Adam Paolozza and Nicholas Eddie on stage. (Courtesy of Andrew Jehan)

What have you learned or taken away through creating this show?

Paolozza: There was a lot of trusting or trying to trust that things would work out. Trusting that people know what they're doing, that they're going to bring their A-game, giving them agency. It's not a new thing that I’ve learned but an experience I’m grateful for. I’m really grateful to my collaborators. To make a show that can be silly and have laughter and create space for that — people need to feel like they have agency. Feel like they’re a part of something. That was a good lesson; the more you relax and trust that people are incredible in all different ways, you don't need to stress so much. 

Pederson: Something that this process of being in Montreal and Toronto offered post or within COVID is to remember to be real. Originally, our beginning piece with our musician was original hype-man stuff and because of some feedback we'd gotten, we talked and realized, “oh yeah, to ask someone how they are right now it's not as flippant or as passing as it used to be.” Now to ask someone how they're doing, we're actually asking because most of us have a really complicated answer. There is an air of feeling more genuine with one another.

Are there any final words you would like to add?

Pederson: I would say that this show has a spirit of care. That's something I would like to mention about it.

A Q&A With Leroy Escobar

Leroy is his own biggest critic, and it means no one can stop or bring him down

By: Rowan Flood

Photo by Dominik Urban @shotbydurban

Initially sitting hood up and face down, Leroy Escobar was mesmerizingly quick to jump into action. 

As we began to talk about music, he spoke with swift hand gestures, illuminated eyes and invigorating energy. His phone and earbuds lay beside him, proof that he had just been listening to something, and sure enough, partway through our conversation, he was playing me a song to help explain himself. 

Escobar holds a deep passion for music and the musical community and takes his role within it seriously. His latest EP, Destiny Bond, uses the unique style of Spanglish— a combination of Spanish and English. Escobar can effortlessly switch between the two languages, allowing his music to  “give people more flavours.” As a first-generation Canadian with a Latin American background, Spanglish is a way of recognizing, preserving and showcasing his roots. 

Now that he’s finished school, a recent X University graduate, he plans on dropping more music and has another single coming on April 29. Escobar holds himself and his music to high standards, wanting to create authentic material that impacts his audience in a meaningful way. Focusing and pursuing music full-on is already underway for this talented yet humble musician when we spoke. 

Can you walk me through from where you first started your musical journey to where you are today?

It was really early, it was super early. I always loved music, ever since I was a kid. When I really fell in love with music was when I first listened to hip-hop. The two biggest influences at that time were Kanye West and Nas. That was when I was maybe 4 or 5. When I first listened to Kanye West, I was like ‘wow, this is what I want to do.’ From there it stemmed into lots of different things. I started writing raps in like, first and second grade. Then what started happening was I got a thirst or a hunger for performing. I really started to enjoy the act of performing.

Where did you get that first taste of performing? Was there a certain moment?

I really can’t think of one, but my parents always used to tell me that ‘when you were small, you weren't scared to dance in front of people, you weren't scared to sing in front of people.’ I just loved what I was doing so much that I didn’t care about sharing it with other people. As I grew up I realized that when I’m on stage, when I’m performing, I feel like I’m in my element. I feel like that's where I belong. Seeing salsa jazz bands play, I would watch in awe when I was younger. Maybe it's my Cuban side, that has that flame to perform and give people a good time. That's ultimately what I love to do when it comes to performing.

What does music mean to you, personally? How is it significant?

It sounds cliche to say, but music has always been part of my life and it's gotten me through hard times, where maybe I didn't have someone to talk to. I didn't have someone there, but I had my favourite artist. It's like a catharsis. The good thing about music is that there is music built for every moment. There was a time when I was listening to binaural beats and things like that to help me sleep. There is music for every moment, every situation. It speaks to the human experience. We’re relating to each other. For me, it's been healing and I want to give that to other people. It's kind of like paying it forward.

Speaking of your music, what do you hope people get from listening to your music?

Lately, especially with my last EP, a lot of it has been in the first person. The reason is that I want people to sing it as if it was themselves. What's important to me is that everything that I write, everything I create is with the idea in mind that people will be repeating my lyrics, with the idea that people are going to sing along. I want to make sure that the things that they're saying are ultimately pushing them in the right direction. I talk a lot about embracing who you are, fulfilling your dreams and chasing the things you feel that you’re made for. For me, it took me a long time to realize that music is what I want to do in my life and I shouldn’t take shit from anybody that tells me otherwise. I feel like that's something that everybody needs, regardless of what it is that you’re doing.

Do you remember when you first felt 100 per cent certain that music is what you wanted to do?

I think definitely, I can remember this one time I went to this Cuban cultural event and there was a salsa band playing and they were just ripping it, they were just so amazing. I loved seeing how much fun they were having. Everyone was feeding off the energy and I loved that. I felt like I could be that. I wanted to be a source of joy for people. In that moment when I was there, it felt radiant. I remember smiling looking at them and I was like you know what, one day I’m going to do that. I’m going to be on stage and people are going to be enjoying it and having a good time.

Where do you see or hope music takes you? What’s your dream?

My ultimate dream, if I’m being honest with you, is I want to build a studio for myself. Where I can bring in talent, I can scout talent, I can help people like me currently get up off their feet and have a door open to the industry. I also really want to open a studio in Cuba. It's a lot harder for artists there to break out. But there's a huge pool of talent that's completely untapped. I feel like I can help bridge that gap, I’m in a very unique situation. I am Canadian but I’m also Cuban. Because of the political climate in Cuba, it's not easy for people to break out of there. Ultimately, my dream is to open doors for people. I want to support myself, but I want to be able to feed others too. I don’t really have aspirations of superstardom. I do dream of performing in stadiums, I would love that, but fame is not something I’m chasing. I want to impact people's lives and make good music. The focus has to be on the music.

When making music do you have a creative process you could walk me through?

I used to work really different, I’ve tweaked my workflow and soon I’m going to change it again. Different workflows suit different styles. I would listen to beats and write, on my phone, on the train, I would just be writing. Every word was super meticulous. I thought very deeply about content, I took my time writing. Whereas now, I’m incorporating more melodic aspects. Lyrics are still very important to me, but I’ve pivoted more to focus on melodies, flow and rhythm. I don't write like before, now I’m in the studio and I’m like ‘play me beats.’ I’ll eventually land on one and as I’m hearing it, I’m thinking about how I want to sound on it — not necessarily what I’m going to say. I think of the flow. I do a one-take recording. It's pretty funny if you were to sit in, it's just mumbling. I don't say anything, but I’m making sure the flow and the melody is on point. Then I tell them to play it back and I write words over it. It's like a blueprint.

Why is the focus more on sound now?

The easy answer is just because that's what people like. I feel like real hip-hop is not as pure as it once was. I’m not a purist in a sense where I think that everything that's new is bad because it's not what was there before. I can see the evolution. With artists like Travis and Kanye, they taught me that sound matters, how you sound matters. Rap is so about what you’re saying, it's so about the poetry. It's kind of a balance ‘cause when you prioritize melody, you can sacrifice some of the lyrical grit you get from original hip-hop music, but you can still convey really powerful messages with melodies and I think that's what I’m trying to work on.

So what's next for you with music?

I have big plans this year, this year is going to be really busy. I’m dropping singles every month for the rest of the year. I’m going to have a couple music videos coming out and performances. That's what I want to focus on a lot. I’ve been getting opportunities now to perform at people's events. Mostly what I’ve been doing is going to open mics, I meet other artists doing the same type of thing, potential collaborators. Putting my music in front of new ears.

What motivates you to keep pursuing music?

Money to me is a bonus. I want to support myself, but I’ve accepted that it's not going to come until the work is there first. The motivation is getting people to connect. It's the affirmation of ‘this is good music to people.’ Making good music, making good art that's going to live longer than me.

What do you think makes music timeless?

I don't think there's a set criteria, but ultimately it's the audience who is the one to decide. There is a saying ‘you can't call anything a classic unless it's been at least ten years.’  It speaks to how it can really captivate the true experience of whatever the goal of the song is. There's a lot of disposable music, for lack of a better word, that gets circulated. The reason why it's disposable, is because it deals with themes that are disposable. Themes of partying, themes of drinking, sex, whatever. It's not until that gets presented in a unique way or your concept is dealing with something that resonates with people so deeply.

What are some themes you’ve dealt with that aren't disposable?

If I’m going to be 100 per cent honest, I don't think I’ve made a timeless record yet. I don't think I’ve been close. But it's there, the seed is there and it's growing. It just takes time. I definitely try to do themes that are like that, but I need to articulate it more. The one track I’ll say that is the closest is called ”Light the Way,” off my EP. The reason why, is I feel that it's really honest. I talk about what it's like to feel the odds are against you, but you’re still determined to make it. I feel like… I don't know, you can probably tell I overanalyze myself a lot. Can I play it? Yeah, I’ll play it for you.

Yes, please.

In the pre-chorus, it says, ‘I remember times I was in the dark so I gave myself to the light.’ What I’m saying is there was a time in my life where I didn't feel I was worthy. When I’m saying I see the light, I’m saying I see the potential. I’m seeing what it could really be. It's showing me there is a path, there is a way for you here but you can’t be swerving off the path, you got to stick to this. It's taking that leap of faith, this is me. The light for me symbolizes greatness, it symbolizes what's the right thing to do. In this song, it's like ‘light the way for me, cause I’m about it, go ahead.’

Patrice Goodman on her career, life and the importance of representation

The iconic Canadian actor speaks to CanCulture about her role in the new sitcom Overlord and the Underwoods

By: Apurba Roy

Photo by Leann Weston

Toronto-born and York Region-raised Patrice Goodman is a Canadian actor, dancer, director, choreographer and teacher who's been involved in practically every genre since she started performing in her late teens in dances and acting classes. From indie films and lifestyle movies to sci-fi shows and comedies, she’s done it all.

Goodman is best known for her work in the comedy television series Sunnyside, for which she won a Canadian Screen Award along with her cast. You might also know her best for playing characters like Flower Underwood from the hilarious CBC Gem sitcom Overlord and the Underwoods and Dot from the hit Netflix show The Umbrella Academy. 

Goodman’s career dates back to 1998 and she has worked hard since then to be where she is now.

In an interview with CanCulture, she spoke on how it all began, what she has learned and what she hopes to continue doing. 

You have been an actor since you were a teenager, first credited as a dancer for Blue Brother 2000 in 1998. How did it all start for you, did you always know that you wanted to act?

 My mom would say that I started dancing first, I would walk around on my tiptoes so she started putting me in dance classes when I was four years old and I loved it! I went to see The Nutcracker by the National Ballet and I saw Karen Kain play the Sugar Plum Fairy. I went home and I learned how to do pirouette and learned how to spot. I think dancing was one of those things that was innate for me. I took dance for quite a few years but… dancing kind of lost its romance because I felt like I wasn’t going to be able to move forward with it.

Then I realized that I enjoyed putting on shows and my mom would tell me that I would memorize all the voices from the Disney records and I could do it from the top to the bottom. When I was about thirteen she enrolled me in a community theatre group. I had always been in the school plays and made people laugh but when I actually did the community theatre group and found people were like me, that solidified it for me and then I auditioned for an art school — Arts York and Unionville High School. When I got into the school and when I met my people I was like ‘this is it!’ so it was just a matter of finding out where I belonged.

The thing about the arts is that a lot of the time, you have an aptitude for it and then you have a moment that sort of solidifies why it’s important. For me, that was watching Whoopi Goldberg in The Color Purple. I watched that journey and that arc that she had and I was so fundamentally changed by her emotional journey. I understood really what I want to do as an actor, which is to create empathy and understanding for the human experience in people and that's when I understood the thing that I had been drawn to my entire life and that gave me the why to do it.

The hilarious sitcom Overlord and the Underwoods on CBC Gem is the second Black sitcom in Canada history. How does it feel when you play Flower Underwood knowing that you are a part of this big change in Canadian history?

It’s the first on CBC with a Black family so I am really grateful to be a part of the first and I am really excited to not be the last. I am really excited to see what is coming down the pipe.

Everybody who is involved in the show loves being there and I think all of us were excited to have the opportunity to tell these kinds of stories, a sci-fi genre story but with our faces of many colours. All of us are movie geeks, all of us love the business, love what we do and we are really excited to have the opportunity and I think to me that’s what real equity is. Equity of opportunity.

We don't talk about being Black on the show. We are all about the joy and we are not so much about Black trauma. That was also really amazing to do because sometimes I find that a lot of African diaspora discussions are really focused on the trauma that we experience but there is a lot of joy and there is so much more to our existence than just our difficult moments. So I was happy to be telling other stories and maybe new stories that people don't necessarily see us in. And I love Flower Underwood. I think she's a great person so I was really honoured to play her.

Courtesy of Marblemedia

As you mentioned, the series focuses on a Black family but it is not necessarily about Black trauma, why do you think that is important?

We may not necessarily understand other people unless we see them really and if all you see about a certain group of people is their trauma and their difficulties, you end up dealing with each other as stereotypes and you are not really trained to really take in a person for everything they are and for their whole experience. If all you see is the same story, you will just take in parts of their story and it creates a lack of connection in the society and a lack of empathy.

The show is designed for young people as well as older people. I think it’s just healthy for my son to see role models, see regular stories with regular people and have him know that not only does he belong in the Canadian community and the world community, but that he and his history is a valid part of it. 

You are always booked with incredible roles and are always working as an actor but you also teach drama and dance. How do you get the time to do what you love and also teach it? And what made you want to teach?

Acting is a weird business because there is a lot of “I get a call for an audition, I drop everything, I do my audition and I could go for months without knowing if I got the part or not” so there is time. It’s actually sort of a great lifestyle because I don't know what tomorrow is gonna bring. Every day is kind of interesting.

But for teaching, I was recently teaching at Toronto Film School and it was two classes a week, which is not a heavy workload and it left room for me to teach. Part of the reason I teach is because when I am not actually working or don't have a script to learn or I am not going on set, it's hard to stay in tune. It's an art, just like how you have to practice violin or dancers have to practice their movement every day. It's hard to go and act in a corner by yourself. It’s very much a communication process and it’s much more active.

So, I started teaching so that I could continue to learn about the craft from a different point of view. I learn from my students a lot and I end up giving advice and reminding my students to do things that I am like “Oh, I should be doing that too!” or “I have not done that in a while,” so it helps reinforce the stuff that I have learned.

I ended up falling into teaching because my teacher, Jacqueline McClintock, went to Europe and said “If you come, you can be my teaching assistant.” She was teaching at a school in Spain and so I went and got the chance to be her TA and the school ended up asking me to come back and start teaching when she was engaged in other things.

You have been in smaller indie projects but also hit shows watched by millions such as The Umbrella Academy. What have you learned from working on smaller projects and also something that millions of people see?

It's the same kind of people, just different budgets. It's amazing to me how everybody wants to make something that they think is good and they push themselves over small moments, big moments. Everybody wants to do something that they can be proud of. What's amazing too is you can really see how much of a difference the budget makes. The Umbrella Academy has the money to make the most beautiful costumes and the most beautiful sets and that is really to their benefit because it is a feast for the eyes. But at the root of it is human connection. At the root of it is a story. And that's what I have learned.

As a Black woman in the industry who is so immensely established and successful, what advice would you give to BIPOC who want to pursue a career in the industry?

The first thing I would say is start to learn what you are doing. Take classes. It is like other art forms, it requires focus and practice and also as you are learning, understand that the people that you are learning with are actually your cohort and these are the people who might end up giving you jobs. These are your connections into the career. It takes a while for everybody to get there but it's not uncommon for me to go to work and actually have somebody who I went to high school with who was in the same arts program.

So taking it seriously when you are with your cohort and showing them that you are reliable and that you care about the work, it actually affects you. The other thing I would say is make the most of every opportunity. Show up, be good, be precise, be pleasant to work with.

Also, start writing your own work, that is a piece of advice I got. Having a hand in producing stuff and having a couple of irons in the fire is always a good idea. Start figuring out how to produce your own stuff. That doesn't mean you can't do the mainstream stuff, but it really helps.

What is next for you?

The first thing up is I am going to be on a show on NBC called In the Dark. I am guest-starring in an episode. It’s an awesome show about a blind woman with an amazing personality who ends up investigating a murder of a friend of hers. It's a drama that is based on a really strong, amazing personality and I think everybody should watch the show, it's brilliant.

The other things I have coming up are a couple of Lifetime movies of the week, one about a woman whose children get stolen and taken to Greece and I play her best friend. I had the honour of going to Greece and working with Sarah Drew, who played April Kepner on Grey's Anatomy. She's really sweet and a very good actor so I learned a lot working with her. The other show I am doing is a show called My Loving Stalker, where I play a police officer who's investigating a woman who is being stalked and it's also based on a true story.

Dreaming through music: An exclusive interview with the founder of Peach Luffe

Peach Luffe provides fans with an escape from reality through their dreamy music. CanCulture sat down with their founder to delve into their sound, dreams and experiences.

By: Teresa Valenton

Peach Luffe at CBC Music (Courtesy of Jong Lee)

What began as a solo act has now evolved into a quartet that has created a distinct sound, quickly resonating with fans everywhere.

Peach Luffe is a Toronto-based project founded by Jong Lee. Taking inspiration from genres such as city-pop, jazz, rock, classical and neo-soul, Peach Luffe transports listeners to a dreamlike space. 

Releasing two EPs to date; Shimmer in July 2020 and Bloom in November 2020, they continue to produce glistening works of art. Much of their music covers relatable themes of longing, love, and nostalgia. Soft guitar riffs and instrumentals auditorily narrate their dreamy soundscape.

Their newest single “Sunflower,” released on Nov. 19, 2021, is reminiscent of artists like Coldplay and Mac DeMarco. Lyrics relay the words “Just tell me that we’re alright,” which sums up the values Peach Luffe seek to spread through their music. 

With a classically trained violinist, metal band drummer and rock shredder, Peach Luffe blend their members’ unique experiences under one name. Though all four members come from different musical backgrounds, they all share a collective love for music. 

In an interview with CanCulture, Lee speaks on the project, musical inspirations, storytelling, and more.

CanCulture: What is the meaning behind the name Peach Luffe?

Jong Lee: It’s pronounced “Luffy,” similar to a character from “One Piece.” It’s a manga from Japan, and one of my favourites. He just has so many characteristics that I aspire to have. His dream is to become the Pirate King, and what this means for him is to be the freest person in the whole sea. That’s what I want to be, I want to be free without being tied down to certain things. A lot of the things he does show resilience and I strive to be like him. 

How did this project evolve from a solo to a quartet?

Before I was just playing music by myself, like solo music. But along the way, when I moved to Toronto four and a half years ago, people started working with me. They helped me write some songs and with mixing, producing and mastering my works. So it’s bigger than me. They came along the way and I’m just as honoured to have fun. I met one of them at an open mic the first week I was here, and the other one at Seneca College. It’s been a couple of years now, the Peach Luffe project has been around for only two [years.]

Since all the members come from different musical backgrounds, how did that impact your sound as a whole?

It wasn’t really hard at all — it was actually quite easy. Even though they’re a big part of it, they have their other things in life. Just like we all have different dreams, but at the same time, we’re in this project together.

How have your experiences moving from South Korea impacted your musical endeavours?

There’s a lot of things in Korean music that I implement in my music too. I think especially K-indie music. There are elements like jazz chords that make it sound prettier. I love that stuff, and I know Western music is a bit different. I would say how they produce, and the chords are a little bit rougher. But the Korean and Asian sounds are a little bit, I won’t say smoother, but a bit more pretty, and I like that.

Because you’ve lived in the United States, Korea, and Canada, how have those experiences shaped your music?

When I lived in the States when I was younger, I learned the violin so I was into classical music until the sixth or seventh grade. Then I discovered a rock band called Green Day on the radio. I really loved it, so I started to play the electric guitar and rock genres. Now I’m playing very soft music, I guess technically adult contemporary is the genre. Throughout my childhood, I wouldn’t say a place really shaped my playing of music, I would just say my experiences as a whole. I experience music from everywhere.

Which artists have you drawn the most inspiration from?

I really got into indie pop from Mac DeMarco, he’s this guy from B.C. I heard the song called “Salad Days,” and as soon as I heard that, I was like, “I’ve never heard anything like this.” That’s one thing that has really shaped my playing as well; the way he plays. Thanks to him, but also to [the genre of] city pop. Though I can’t [name] the city pop artists I’m listening to, I am loving the funkiness and grooviness of the genre.

What draws you to that dreamlike sound?

Dreaming is something I’ve been thinking about since I was younger. I’m always daydreaming, I’m always in my head and sometimes I don’t like to be in reality. So I like how it feels like I’m always dreaming a little bit. A little bit lucid, without the drugs, of course. My music has a lot of reverb, which is like an echo sound. That kind of sound, I think, amplifies the dreaminess of my music. I just like to escape in my own world. That’s basically it.

Where do you wish to go from here musically?

If you make every album the same sound, it just sounds boring to me. For me, I needed something different that was a little bit more intimate, acoustic and evergreen, like my EP that was inspired by me buying a $100 classical guitar from somewhere on Kijiji. I recorded everything with it, and it gave it a softer sound so that transpired.

Do you choose your instrumentals based on the themes you wish to convey?

No, I don’t try to curate it [like that]. I just go with whatever sounds I want to go for. It doesn’t have to be only acoustic or classical guitar. Whatever happens, happens, and I’m learning that feeling is more important than the technical stuff.

What stories do you most want to tell?

I’ve been researching storytelling, that’s actually something I’m very interested in now, how to tell them properly. My personal life, I feel like for me, it goes like roller-coasters. There’s always ups and downs. Whatever happens, great things will happen and in the next couple of days, I’ll go back down. But it’s a common story that I want to tell. It’s usual that you can have a life that is not linear. You can’t always grow, you’ll always fall back, fall down, and fall into your growth, and I think people need to remind themselves to be nice and not be so hard on their experiences.

Do you have anything else to say to fans about the Peach Luffe project?

I’m going to release an EP called Beyond next, in a month and a half. I went to San Jose a couple of weeks ago after I got dumped. I met someone I didn’t know and we ended up finishing an EP, music videos, and visuals. Life is very fun when it’s unexpected, I think.