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Issue 112 | Spring 2012

Jocelyn Morlock

Composes moments of magic from ordinary material

By Elissa Poole

FULL-TEXT AVAILABLE IN PRINT EDITION ONLY

Jocelyn Morlock had purple hair for years. “It was indigo, in fact.” She narrows it down further: “Like an eggplant.” Specificity of colour matters to Morlock, not the least in music. “Colour: That’s what I think about when I hear somebody’s work I like,” she says.

Morlock can be contrary. She hates pink, but there she is, in her Web-site photo, in a blindingly pink shirt in the middle of a stand of hot-pink trees—Claude Cormier’s installation Lipstick Forest, stumbled upon in a Montreal mall.

People who knew Morlock when she was younger remember a cultivated wackiness—just the arty persona this photo suggests. But Morlock’s hair today is brown and straight, and a blunt cut frames her face without self-conscious chic. She’s tall, composed, and gamine-slim. Her glasses give her a deceptively studious air, but a wry, urchin’s grin hints at that old eccentricity.

Read more in the print edition.

Image by: Chris Randle


Elissa Poole lives on Salt Spring Island in British Columbia and is a sessional instructor at University of Victoria.

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