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C’est là un ouvrage de référence qui présente la recherche sur la musique, les genres et les sexualités, et plus largement la vie musicale non dominante au Québec depuis le dernier quart du XIXe siècle jusqu’à aujourd’hui. Issu des travaux réalisés en 202-2022 par le pôle universitaire DIG! Différences et inégalités de genre dans la musique au Québec (D!G), un réseau interdisciplinaire et intersectoriel qui réunit les chercheur·ses, publics, artistes et autres professionnel·les de la musique qui s’intéressent à cette thématique, l’ouvrage comprend une revue de la littérature et une bibliographie de plus de 800 ressources scientifiques.

"One of today's most important documentary filmmakers, Alanis Obomsawin has dedicated her life's work to shining a light on the injustices experienced by Canada's Indigenous people. This retrospective monograph features an extensive interview with Obomsawin and includes stills and reflections on her entire career including her most recent series devoted to the rights of Indigenous children. Never shying away from controversy, Obomsawin's films have played a critical role in exposing ongoing systemic bias towards Indigenous populations-from fishing rights and education to health care and treaty violations. Obomsawin is also a graphic artist, and she incorporates her often dream-inspired etchings and prints into many of her films. This volume includes illuminating essays exploring Obomsawin's practice and mission as well as personal commentary from collaborators, archival materials, and photographs from the filmmaker's personal life and professional exploits. As Obomsawin closes in on her ninth decade of life-and fifth decade behind the camera-this beautifully illustrated record of her astounding body of work and tireless efforts on behalf of Indigenous peoples and culture is an inspiring celebration of the power of film to dramatically change the course of history"-- Provided by publisher.

Dans le sillage de l’ouvrage dirigé par Octobre et Patureau (Octobre et Patureau 2018), cet article engage à une réflexion sur le traitement de la question du genre dans les dispositifs numériques de médiation produits par des organismes de diffusion et de production musicale. Les études en sociologie du travail artistique (Coulangeon et Ravet 2003 ; Buscatto 2007 ; Bousquet et al. 2018) ne cessent de montrer que l’ensemble des mondes de la musique, aussi bien classiques que jazz ou pop, est traversé par une double ségrégation genrée horizontale (répartition sexuée selon le type d’emploi) et verticale (moindre accès aux postes à responsabilités). On pourrait imaginer que les producteurs de dispositifs numériques de médiation de la musique, portant des valeurs de vivre-ensemble, d’inclusion sociale et d’agentivité (Perez-Roux et Montandon 2014 ; Carrel 2017), et conscients des effets normatifs et prescriptif des supports éducationnels (Octobre 2014), viennent questionner ces frontières. Le « dénombrement » et l’analyse de « cas » tirés du dépouillement systématique d’une centaine dispositifs numériques consultables en ligne et produits par des organismes de production et de diffusion musicale permettront de montrer que tel n’est pas le cas.

Muzion a été parmi les tout premiers groupes de rap québécois à faire résonner une parole locale distinctive. Il le faisait dans un français mâtiné d’anglais et de créole haïtien, multipliant les registres et faisant des emprunts à encore d’autres langues. Cet article se penche sur les chansons du premier album du groupe, Mentalité moune morne, à partir de son hétérolinguisme et des questions d’appartenance que celui-ci soulève. Il examine la manière dont Muzion entrelace les langues, mais aussi les interpellations, défaisant l’association entre langue et identité. Le groupe s’adresse ainsi à la fois à une communauté immigrante locale (d’abord haïtienne, mais également pluriethnique et racisée) qu’il québécise, et à une communauté québécoise élargie qu’il pluralise. Le rap permet en outre à ses membres de faire entendre leurs voix individuelles distinctes, notamment grâce à des usages différenciés de la palette plurilingue du groupe. Ce faisant, ce sont les notions même d’appartenance et de communauté que Muzion se trouve à refaçonner, à l’encontre de toute forme d’homogénéisation, de figement ou de stéréotype.

The singer-songwriter's heartfelt memoir about growing up in a bohemian musical family and her experiences with love, loss, motherhood, divorce, the music industry, and more. Born into music royalty, the daughter of folk legends Kate McGarrigle and Loudon Wainwright III and sister to the highly-acclaimed and genre-defying singer Rufus Wainwright, Martha grew up in a world filled with such incomparable folk legends as Leonard Cohen; Suzzy Roche, Anna McGarrigle, Richard and Linda Thompson, Pete Townshend, Donald Fegan, and Emmylou Harris. It was within this loud, boisterous, carny, musical milieu that Martha came of age, struggling to find her voice until she exploded on the scene with her 2005 debut critically acclaimed album, Martha Wainwright, containing the blistering hit, 'Bloody Mother F*cking Asshole,' which the Sunday Times called one of the best songs of that year. Her successful debut album and the ones that followed such as Come Home to Mama, I Know You're Married But I've Got Feelings Too, and Goodnight City came to define Martha's searing songwriting style and established her as a powerful voice to be reckoned with. In her memoir, Stories I Might Regret Telling You, Martha digs into the deep recesses of herself with the same emotional honesty that has come to define her music. She describes her tumultuous public-facing journey from awkward, earnest, and ultimately rebellious daughter, through her intense competition and ultimate alliance with her brother, Rufus, to the indescribable loss of their mother, Kate, and then, finally, discovering her voice as an artist. With candor and grace, Martha writes of becoming a mother herself and making peace with her past struggles with Kate and her former self, finally understanding and facing the challenge of being a female artist and a mother. Ultimately, Stories I Might Regret Telling You offers readers a thoughtful and deeply personal look into the extraordinary life of one of the most talented singer-songwriters in music today.

Extreme metal is a masculine space, yet more and more women join in. They face a contradiction: as women, they are expected to adopt feminine behaviours; however, they are part of a subculture that valorizes warrior masculinity. I sought to understand the gender expectations of the Montreal extreme metal scene and interpret the contradictions encountered by women in this scene with the help of Schippers’ (2007) theoretical framework on gender. To do so, I conducted 16 individual interviews with women and men who take part in the scene. This research fills a gap in the literature on gender that derives from Connell and Schippers’ writings and addresses issues that the field of metal studies has brushed over. I found that metal men are the “default” participants in the scene. They are expected to be fine music connoisseurs and even become musicians. In contrast, women’s presence is heterosexualized and attributed to a romantic or sexual interest in metal men. Women are suspected of being “poseuses” or groupies with no real interest in the music until proven otherwise. To become legitimate participants, they have to overcome those expectations and prove that they are worthy of being viewed through the prism of masculinity rather than femininity. They do so by proving their exceptionality through manhood acts and distancing themselves from other women. Despite their gender transgressions, women’s presence does not fundamentally question gender relations but reaffirms the overall primacy of masculinity over femininity.

The caesura in musical production caused by recent global lockdowns has made contemporary music’s crisis of societal relevancy more apparent than ever. Bringing together interviews with music curators, musicians, activist networks and institutional leaders, this book details existing practices and approaches, showing that change is possible but only if the recent wave of interest in curatorial practices, diversity and divestment from a white, European bourgeois aesthetic are taken seriously by the musical establishment. This expanded second edition of Taking the Temperature adds a new preface, five new interviews, as well as followups with previous interviewees. Radiating out from the Ultima Festival and Oslo, ..