LTE: Why Canada Should Continue to Fund its Artists

In the midst of these darker times, I want to focus on joy. We need to see and experience it as human beings, and the light we need can often be found in stories of hope.

Heated Rivalry, a TV series created by Crave, has taken the world by storm. It is a love story between two beautiful, gay and bisexual hockey players, one Canadian (Shane) and one Russian (Ilya). The series is based on the Game Changers romance novels by Rachel Reid, who has become one of the most in-demand podcast guests in recent weeks, all for good reason. The show reminds us how powerful empathetic, thoughtful storytelling can be, and how it can make us swoon, feel seen, and allow us to be vulnerable with each other.

TikTok influencers have latched onto every corner of the story, from the comedic moments like Ilya’s iconic “stupid Canadian wolf bird” line in Muskoka (a reaction to hearing the call of the loon), to their tenderness, and even the pride in Canadian tax dollars helping fund art that resonates globally.

Many gay men have shared emotional reactions to feeling represented, while women have been some of the loudest supporters, pouring money into the books, the merch, and endless podcast episodes. It feels like a moment worth cherishing, especially for anyone who has ever felt like they did not quite fit. There is room for everyone’s stories, and Heated Rivalry also quietly reminds us that within male-dominated sports, there are still people who feel pressured to hide who they are.

One of the most beautiful surprises for anyone who celebrated Canadian indie rock in the aughts has been the inclusion of so many Canadian artists in the series, including the ethereal Feist. Once a member of the Broken Social Scene collective, she broke into the mainstream when Apple used her song “1, 2, 3, 4” in her gorgeously choreographed, dance-infused commercial for iPod. From the mid-2000s to the early 2010s, she became a household name. She is still creating dreamy music and intricate, art-infused stage shows and recently gave a charming performance with Olivia Rodrigo at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, covering the White Stripes.

Wolf Parade, the Montreal indie band, has also seen a massive resurgence. Their song “I’ll Believe in Anything” racked up over seven million views in the three weeks following the episode where Scott and Kip declare their love after a huge hockey win. To give you an idea of how big a jump that was, that video has been sitting on YouTube for 19 years, with only 1.3 million views. The song’s streaming on Spotify has surged over 3000% in the past 3 weeks.

The kiss between Scott and Kip was soundtracked to this heart-pounding anthem. There were tears for some fans of the show, goosebumps for others. To me, the song speaks to seeing sunlight through struggle, fighting battles together, and aching toward a better tomorrow. When the record came out in 2005, it lived on repeat on my iPod for years.

My third music journalism gig, writing for the Ampersand Arts Blog at the National Post around 2009, came about because a photographer friend needed someone to review a Sunset Rubdown show at Lee’s Palace in Toronto, one of Wolf Parade’s lead singer Spencer Krug’s incredible side projects.

One of the reasons Canada experienced such a rich decade of music and art was government support. When I interviewed artists around 2006 and 2007, many talked about how funding allowed them to focus on their craft without constantly worrying about bills. They struggled, yes, but there was a collective mindset and a sense of community that ran through everything. They were not necessarily getting rich. They were building a movement. A movement that was seen and heard around the world, including the New York Times who did a detailed profile on the massive impact Broken Social Scene was having at that time. That era of Canadian music shaped me deeply.

It is heartening to see this renewed love for Canadian art, something I have hoped for as the American dream has visibly declined over the past decade. I hope our government and society can meet this moment, supporting artists as they navigate AI, streaming, and a fractured economy, and helping revive that artistic community spirit, the beating hearts of Canada’s collective sound.

Kelly Bergeron
Cornwall