The queer community is no stranger to cultivating joy in the face of oppression. One of the many historic injustices endured by 2SLGBTQI+ individuals is the LGBT purge — a period between the 1950s and 1990s when the Canadian government investigated and fired civil servants based on their sexual or gender identity. (In the 1960s, the RCMP even developed a so-called “fruit machine” that measured pupil dilation in response to homosexual imagery.) Now, a new Ottawa monument that broke ground this May (with an anticipated unveiling next summer) is setting out to make amends — and it’s doing so in shimmery disco style. Indeed, Michelle Douglas, the executive director of the LGBT Purge Fund that is leading the project, describes the monument as “tall, proud and unabashedly queer.”

In June 2018, the government of Canada reached a settlement as part of a nation-wide class action lawsuit brought forward by survivors of the LGBT purge. That settlement included the establishment of a fund dedicated to “reconciliation and memorialization measures” — and one of this fund’s core projects became the development of a national monument to discrimination against 2SLGBTQI+ people in Canada. 

After issuing a request for qualifications in 2020, the LGBT Purge Fund (working in collaboration with Canadian Heritage and the National Capital Commission) shortlisted five teams to carry their concepts forward to a public survey and juried evaluation. Based on feedback from this poll as well as from other key stakeholders, the jury eventually awarded the project to a Winnipeg-based team led by Public City Architecture in collaboration with Indigenous Elder Albert McLeod and visual artists Shawna Dempsey and Lorri Millan.

Dubbed Thunderhead, the team’s winning design features a tall white silo structure with several cloud-shaped cutouts revealing an interior clad in mirrored tiles to disco ball-like effect. The visual concept carries a lot of symbolism: its designers envision the cloud imprints made within the structure’s column as a representation of 2SLGBTQI+ communities breaking down barriers in the pursuit of change. The concept gains additional significance when viewed from an Indigenous perspective, as Anishinaabe teachings represent thunderclouds as home to Thunderers who renew the land. (Notably, Thunderhead will sit on unceded and traditional Anishinaabe Algonquin Nation territory near the Ottawa River by Portage Bridge and Wellington Street.)

As for the mirrored tiles inside the column, the team describes these as being selected to reflect the identities and memories of the queer individuals whose lives ended unnecessarily early. While not explicitly addressed in the project’s design statement, these tiles also bear an immediate resemblance to those that cover disco balls. In this sense, the structure also becomes a tribute to working it out on the dance floor — processing grief, suffering and injustice, and still carrying on in spirited stride. Sure enough, part of the appeal of the design is the way that it anticipates future cultural programming. 

Rather than acting as a static monument, Thunderhead is designed as a stage, with one rendering featuring a lively drag show. By bringing what had once been confined to underground queer spaces out into the open, the project celebrates progress — and advocates for further change still required. On the other hand, its core structure also maintains some of the intimacy afforded by historic queer spaces that have acted as important safe havens within the larger urban environment.

The design is just as well-suited to quieter moments of reflection. A system of winding paths will encircle a Healing Circle and medicinal garden composed of 13 stones chosen by Two-Spirit and Indigiqueer people from each of Canada’s provinces and territories, while a nearby sugar maple is a specific gesture towards those in the Armed Forces and a fruit orchard works to reclaim a homophobic epithet.

The project is also notable in the wake of the controversy surrounding the National Monument to Canada’s Mission in Afghanistan. While the jury that was appointed to decide that project’s winning submission selected a project by Daoust Lestage Lizotte Stecker, Luca Fortin, Daoust and Louise Arbour, their choice was overruled and the the Government of Canada ultimately awarded the project to Adrian Stimson (working in collaboration with public art practice LeuWebb Projects and landscape architects MBTW Group). In that case, the government attributed the decision to the jury’s choice being out of sync with the results of an online survey. 

A Canada-wide survey was also conducted as part of the evaluation process for the 2SLGBTQI+ National Monument — though in this case, the design that the jury selected was also the one that had secured the largest public support. The 10-person jury weighed the results of the public poll as part of their larger deliberation process, but ultimately had final say. And while their process was made easier by the fact that the jury and the survey respondents seemed to be in clear agreement, it’s still worth commending a procurement process that outlined — and followed — a clear protocol. In doing so, the project’s leaders have honoured not just Canada’s queer community, but also the importance of articulating (and adhering to) a clear method for developing our country’s civic monuments.