Porous

Amber Goodwyn’s (aka Natural Sympathies) marriage of music and film reflects on life passages, creating a space for oneself, and the collaborative process

By Charity Marsh

“Hello. Is anybody out there?” This is the rhetorical question that begins Natural Sympathies’ first full-length electro-pop album Porous. It is a simple and yet, provocative one, that begins a seven-song arc of musical reflections on the themes of loss, loneliness, connection, love, and resilience for multi-disciplinary artist, Amber Goodwyn (aka Natural Sympathies). For Goodwyn, Porous in all its forms is about the permeation of light, air, liquid; the kind of openness needed to really listen and respond to the world around you. The songs of Porous were cultivated over a period of time that housed two profoundly life-altering moments for Goodwyn, the birth of her child in 2014 and the death of her mother in 2018—each of these taking their toll on the psyche, the body, the heart, and pushing Goodwyn to new kinds of creative depths.  

Released in November 2019 on the independent record label Grey Records (Saskatoon), Porous is comprised of seven songs written and performed by Goodwyn, and features Ernie Dulanowsky (drones), Amber Phelps Bondaroff (viola), Justin Hauck (percussion), and Andrea Jane Cornell (field recording). Produced by Orion Paradis of SoulSound Studios (Regina), this album establishes Goodwyn as the prominent solo artist Natural Sympathies, in a genre distinct from her work with long-time Montreal band Cobra & Vulture.

Relocating to Regina from Montreal in Fall of 2012 with her partner, Mike Rollo, Goodwyn left behind  much-loved music, arts and activist communities. An active participant in Montreal’s Riot Grrrl scene back in the day; an editor of the smutzine, Lickety Split, from 2004 to 2009; a member of the Double Negative Collective; a filmmaker with a BFA in Film Production from Concordia University; and an active musician with Cobra & Vulture (among others), Goodwyn’s cross-country move brought about great loss. Although it took some time to mourn what was left behind, and to develop and foster new connections and friendships in Regina, Goodwyn’s spark, her jouissance, was reignited as she began to make music again after giving birth. “I’ve always been one who, if I didn’t see the culture around me that would sustain me in my world view, I’d do what I could to make my own world around me,” Goodwyn says.

As she was learning to balance the rhythms that accompany new motherhood and the complete dependence of a child, Goodwyn sought to find a way to express herself creatively. During this period of isolation and solace—those times where sleep is rare and separation of oneself from the act of mothering seems far out of reach, Goodwyn had a desire to make music and found herself in the basement, headphones on, writing songs, and quietly bringing Natural Sympathies to life.

Goodwyn describes Natural Sympathies as a little bit of Dolly Parton “with the sense of humour of it all and the femininity, hopefully with good songwriting at the heart of all of that” and “a celebration of being high femme.” As Goodwyn introduced the world to Natural Sympathies, she was approached by future collaborator, Meghan Trenholm after a show, who suggested if Goodwyn ever wanted a backup dancer, she would be there. “Backup dancers — that sounds hilarious and over the top and maximal,” Goodwyn recalls thinking. “I wanted to explore that.” And so, consisting of Avianna Hudym, Jennelle Jackobsen, Caitlin Mullan, Shayna Stock, and Meghan Trenholm, The Mutual Affection formed and became Natural Sympathies’ backup dancers. Their style and choreography challenge the conventional and engage in provocations associated with femininity, ageing, and play. “They all access that 12-year old joy of dancing to a music video or making up a story for a song that I think exists inside of everyone; that sense of joyfulness and playfulness,” Goodwyn remarks. “That’s been amazing, and we’ve all become very good friends.”

Goodwyn’s penchant for a DIY style of art-making and her experiences of working across and within multiple arts disciplines is part of what animates her. Thus, when it came to bringing her feminist sci-fi fantasy film version of Porous to life, she sought out a roster of diverse directors, artists, musicians, actors, and makers who she knew would collaborate and support the concept. For Goodwyn there was an element of both risk and trust as she invited a different director to visualize one of the seven songs as part of the filmic narrative. “I think it speaks to my sensibilities,” says Goodwyn. “I love collage, I love juxtaposition, I love play, I love a little bit of the unexpected. If I have absolute control over everything it’s not that playful; it’s not that joyful, or exciting to me.”

The film is comprised of seven distinct chapters — one filmic interpretation for each song that assists in the overall story of Natural Sympathies coming to earth, experiencing the loss of her family, unsuccessfully seeking a way back home, mourning the loss of home, finding community and joy, and the contentment that comes with making the decision to stay on earth. Collaborating with a different director on each song, these short films employ a range of approaches to storytelling including the use of animation, experimental techniques, and narrative. The directors are Adrienne Adams, Kyath Battie, Ian Campbell, Eric Hill, Elian Mikkola, Mike Rollo, Evie Ruddy, and Ania Ślusarczyk. In November 2019, Goodwyn released one chapter of the film daily over a period of a week.

When asked if she had always thought of Porous as something more than an album, Goodwyn remarks, “I had always had a visual universe going along with [the music]. And I started developing it with the Strange Heavens EP that preceded Porous, but I didn’t know it would become Porous.” Although collaboration is a generative process for Goodwyn, she begins the work alone stating, “It needs to come from a quiet place no matter how loud it gets. I need to feel confident that I’ve worked it out to a certain degree before I bring others into the project.”

Goodwyn was excited to invite people to come and play with her idea. “The center of the project really is joyful and playful,” she says. “Taking songs that sometimes are heavy or have different emotions running through them, and inviting people to completely remix what that idea could look like or should look like [is exciting].” Goodwyn chose artists and filmmakers she knew, including some she had collaborated with in the past. She understood the quality of their work, and had a sense of how they might engage in collaboration, which helped the project move forward productively. “For some [directors] they showed me the edits, I asked for certain things to be changed, and they changed them, it was not a struggle. They understood why that was important and why x y or z needed to be represented in a different way, and then they did that. There were like 1,000 moments of negotiation and adjustments along the way.”

The entire collaborative process culminated in a spectacular art dance party held at Silt Studio in Regina, with live performances by Natural Sympathies with The Mutual Affection, and featuring a coming together of artwork by musicians, filmmakers, videographers, dancers, performance artists, visual artists, and costume designers, highlighting the collaborative and multi-dimensional nature of the project. The final event was indicative of Goodwyn’s ability to act as a conduit for bringing people together, developing community, and provoking cross and inter-disciplinary creative conversations. “The big launch party suited the nature of the project,” Goodwyn recalls. “You know, a huge to-do, multidisciplinary, everyone involved, lots of improvisation and collaboration. It was also a way to honour everybody.”

The party also marked the finale of the project for Goodwyn, who during this time was managing a lot of unresolved grief about the passing of her mother. “I think my expectations and outcomes and goals were always clear from the outset,” she says. “So there was never any misunderstanding about where things would go. I made this album, we made this film for it, we’re going to have this party, and then we’re going to celebrate. So it felt like this closed loop.”

When asked if there is another collaborative community project in her near future, Goodwyn hints that a new album is almost done, and more projects are brewing. “I think, as an individual, you have certain interests or areas of study or research or whatever —  personal life stories,” she  says. “If you’re multidisciplinary, it would make sense to make projects in parallel to each other that have something to say to each other.”

After holding space for so many relationships as part of the collaboration, Goodwyn recognized the need for a complete break after the event. The significance of boundary making in an industry that is relentless about demanding a public presence, especially for women musicians, is a key strength and admirable quality of Goodwyn. Rather than constantly seeking the approval tied to a game of marketing, Goodwyn plays against the conventional process. She deviates from the typical protocols of having to tour an album; she makes decisions to take a break and “fill the wells” as she says; and she is willing to reconfigure her personas as creative projects and life experiences necessitate. Goodwyn continues to think through and act on what might make life more balanced and fulfilling for her and her family.

Charity Marsh (she/her) is a queer, white settler researcher, artist, and educator living in Treaty 4 with her two kiddos. She publishes on Hip Hop Cultures, popular music, gender and technology, interactive media and performance, and community arts-based programming. She is co-editor of We Still Here: Hip Hop North of the 49th Parallel and Director of the award-winning documentary I’m Gonna Play Loud: Girls Rock Regina and the Ripple Effect.