Rediscovering ‘Journal’ history, one photo at a time

Queen’s history isn’t just written—it’s captured.

From Princess Diana and King Charles’ Kingston visit in 1991 to The Tragically Hip’s snapshots before becoming legends, The Journal has a knack for capturing history as it unfolds. Right place, right time—whether you call it luck, skill, or a secret only the paper’s photographers seem to know.

If a picture is worth a thousand words, it’s time to tell the stories behind them, including the photographers who took them and how these fleeting moments have become unforgettable.

In the mid-’80s, Paul Faulkner, ConEd ’87, roamed Queen’s campus with a camera slung over his shoulder, chasing the pulse of Kingston’s music scene. Faulkner, an entertainment writer and photographer, graced The Journal from 1983 to 1987.

Long before The Hip became Canada’s poetic rock giants, they were just another Kingston act, playing their hearts out to sweaty crowds in dimly lit bars. But Faulkner saw something special through his lens.

His images—raw, electric, alive—would later find a home in Michael Barclay’s definitive book, The Never-Ending Present and Mike Downie’s award-winning documentary series The Tragically Hip: No Dress Rehearsal (2024). Downie is a multi-award-winning documentary filmmaker and brother of late Tragically Hip frontman Gord Downie.

“My fellow Queen’s Journal writer, Ted Emerson, and I were fans of The Tragically Hip,” Faulkner wrote in a statement to The Journal. “So, we pitched the idea of a ‘fluff’ piece to our Entertainment Editor, Jennie Punter, who—to her credit—let us run with it.” The Entertainment Editor role has evolved in name—from Arts & Entertainment to Arts, and now Arts & Culture.

That “fluff” piece became more than just another story on a page. It was a snapshot of a band on the brink, a photographer in his element, and a moment in time that would never fade.

Downie and Sinclair synchronize in hip style. PHOTO BY: Paul Faulkner (Oct. 1, 1985)

On a rainy September afternoon, the band huddled together beneath the grey sky, the scent of wet grass rising from the earth beneath their boots. Rain drizzled over Victoria Park, misting Faulkner’s camera lens as he set up the shot.

Gord Downie, singer and lyricist of The Hip, had sent someone sprinting to the S&R Department Store to snag a handful of flimsy plastic raincoats—makeshift props for an impromptu photoshoot.

Laughter echoed through the park as the band slipped into crinkling plastic raincoats, water beading down. Someone—no one quite remembered who—pulled out a golf club, taking slow, deliberate practice swings between takes. It was the kind of moment that wasn’t staged, just lived.

And Faulkner, behind his camera, was there to catch it before it disappeared into memory.

The Tragically Hip sport new raincoats, hanging out in Victoria Park. PHOTO BY: Paul Faulkner (Oct. 1, 1985)

“The photos reflect what the band was at the time: a fun, energetic, band that you could dance to,” Faulkner said.

“The whole afternoon was very spontaneous. We smoked a lot of dope at Gord Downie’s place before walking to the park, so that may come through in the photos! I don’t remember Ted and I requesting any posed shots but judging by some of the pics, someone must have arranged them!” Faulkner said.

Faulkner looks at these photos fondly now—how the afternoon had unfolded in a haze of rain and laughter, the band effortlessly slipping between candid chaos and uncanny composure. The result was a series of photos that felt both unfiltered and strangely deliberate, as if The Hip had instinctively known they were standing on the edge of something bigger than any of them could yet name.

Decades later, other Journal staffers would follow in Faulkner’s footsteps, capturing the pulse of Kingston’s arts scene in their own way. One of them was Jonathan Demers, ArtSci ’96, who used his  storytelling lens in The Journal nearly a decade after Faulkner’s time.

Demers contributed to The Journal in Volume 126, covering the year 1995-96. During his time at the paper, Demers worked on book, concert, and theatre reviews. He also took photos.

In addition to working for The Journal, Demers was part of the PF Records scene—an Ontario-based record label that gained popularity in the ’90s—led by The Inbreds , Canada’s “greatest two-man band.”

During the PF Records scene, Demers spent a lot of nights going to concerts at Alfie’s, a former AMS service, the Toucan, Clark Hall Pub, and AJ’s.

Once known as AJ’s Hangar, the venue that present-day Queen’s students call The Ale House, got its new name in 2005. While today’s generation flocks to “Tumble Tuesday,” alumni remember a different rhythm—Tuesday retro nights, where nostalgia ruled the dance floor.

Armed with his trusty 35mm Minolta camera and a wide-angle lens, essential when trying to fit a whole band in frame on a tiny stage, Demers spent his nights on the job chasing the perfect shot under the dim glow of stage lights.

Each week followed the same rhythm: pick up a few film rolls from The Journal house, disappear into Kingston’s roaring nightlife, and return the spent rolls by the weekend, their contents still a mystery, Demers never being involved in the selection process.

“It was always a surprise to find out which photos of mine would be in the next issue,” he said.

The Killjoys don’t spoil anyone’s fun. PHOTO BY: Jonathan Demers (Sept. 26, 1995)

The photo of the Killjoys was a mystery to Demers—when he took it, what led up to the shot—none of it stuck in his memory. But the image itself he still loves.

The Killjoys, a power-pop and punk band from Hamilton, ruled the ’90s rock scene before disbanding in 1999.

“You can see the stage isn’t much higher than the audience, and there’s a hint of a mosh pit breaking out,” Demers said.

The band stormed Clark Hall Pub that night, with bodies pressing against the stage and the line between performer and spectator blurred.

“Since the stage is so low, people would climb on top of the PA speakers to jump into the crowd, which often led to being ejected from Clark for the night,” Demers said.

And then there was the guy in the audience, flashing devil horns with a smirk. “I think the devil horns are being used ironically,” Demers said. “Since metal was very uncool during the grunge years.”

The moment—a flash of rebellion, humour, and reckless energy—is frozen forever in frame, even if the details of that night have since faded.

Daniel Greaves discovers he has no hair. PHOTO BY: Jonathan Demers (Sept. 26, 1995)

Some concerts blur into a hazy past for Demers, but one moment remains sharp—the night he photographed Daniel Greaves of The Watchmen. From Winnipeg, the band was a powerhouse of the early ’90s, earning one platinum and three gold records while cementing their place among Canada’s most successful acts.

“The Jock Harty Arena, as a terrible venue for concerts—too big, too much echo, and a very high stage by Kingston standards,” Demers said. The cavernous space swallowed sound—unforgiving for a photographer. “I recall being right up against the stage and frustrated that it was hard to get a good shot of the band from such a low vantage point.”

After a fire, a second Jock Harty Arena stood on the same location as its predecessor stood until it was torn down in 1968 to make way for Humphrey Hall, after the Ontario government announced it would no longer be aiding to fund non-academic buildings.

Ever the showman, lead vocalist Daniel Greaves knew how to play to the camera.

Mid-set, he locked eyes with Demers and struck a few dramatic poses—effortless, electric, perfectly framed. Demers clicked the shutter, capturing the moment before flashing a thumbs up in thanks. “I gave him a thumbs up and headed off to another show that night,” Demers said.

Another night, another band, another fleeting moment frozen in film.

***

Memorable moments don’t always unfold under the bright lights of a stage. Sometimes, they find their form in the quiet, unassuming moments, captured through the lens of someone like Dave Kemp, Sci ’96.

During his time as a Gael, Kemp was primarily focused on the Tricolour yearbook, where he served as the photo editor during his final two years of undergrad. His connection to The Queen’s Journal was more peripheral.

“I would shoot for them on occasion,” Kemp wrote in a statement to The Journal. “And sometimes, they’d come to The Tricolour Yearbook looking for images from an event we had already covered.”

Still, the photos he took, many of them spontaneous, serve as historical record.

Kemp remembers the atmosphere around the time of the 1995 Quebec Referendum .

“It was a pretty big deal,” Kemp said.

“At the time, I was covering a lot of events, so my memory is a bit hazy beyond what’s written in the article. Overall, I think it does a pretty good job of relaying the story behind this picture,” Kemp said.

Mordecai Richler, speaking on the separatist movement and the October 30 referendum in Quebec. PHOTO BY: Dave Kemp

“People were genuinely concerned Quebec might actually leave Canada. I remember a number of my friends making special arrangements to travel back to their homes in Quebec to have their vote registered,” Kemp said.

“Richler spoke of the need for one side to win with a wide margin, but in the end, the ‘No’ side only won by 50.58 per cent. The tension of that time lingered in the air,” Kemp said.

Mordecai Richler, novelist, essayist, and social critic, remains a pivotal figure in Canadian literary and cultural history, described by novelist critic Robert Fulford as “the loyal opposition” to Canada’s cultural norms. Throughout his career, he was known for asking tough questions and taking bold, often controversial moral stances.

For Kemp, his job was simple: capture the moment. “I would have been sent out to simply cover the event—provide evidence, a historical record that it happened,” he said.

“And seeing as we’re talking about it 30 years later, I guess it met that goal,” Kemp said.

While some might have planned out the perfect shot, Kemp preferred spontaneity.

“It would have been mostly spontaneous,” Kemp said. “Although I would have positioned myself for a good angle, then waited for an interesting moment to capture Richler. Back then, with film, you had to be efficient with your shots.”

In that time before digital cameras, every shot mattered.

“When shooting people speaking, it’s best to catch them during pauses, between words, so their mouths aren’t open in an unflattering or unsettling way,” Kemp said.

Though his time at The Journal was sparse, Kemp’s photography journey ran deeper with The Tricolour Yearbook.

“We’d roll our own film canisters and process and print every single image in our darkroom,” Kemp said.

He remembers the hands-on nature of analogue photography, where staff even did the page layouts by hand, cutting and pasting photos and small squares of text onto large layout pages.

Through all of it, Kemp’s favourite moments were the ones where he could capture something meaningful, be it a speaker or a concert.

“It was a thrill to photograph people like Richler, Carl Sagan, Sook-Yin Lee, Our Lady Peace, Sarah McLachlan, Moist, Big Sugar—so many others,” Kemp said. The faces and moments he photographed still linger in his memory, even if he hasn’t revisited those photos in years.

Looking back on his work, Kemp knew the significance of his photographs, especially in the context of Canadian identity.

“I think it speaks a lot about Quebec’s significance to Canada,” Kemp said. “It’s about the challenges, but also the strength, of Canadian identity. And now, with the current political climate, those same issues are once again front and centre.”

In the end, Kemp’s photos weren’t just about capturing a speaker or a concert—they were about documenting moments in time, the people who shaped them, and the way Canada’s story unfolded, frame by frame.

PHOTO BY: Lori Thorlakson (June 27, 1995)

Lori Thorlakson, ArtSci ’96, first stepped into The Journal newsroom as a storyteller, not a shutterbug. As News Editor in Volume 122 and Editor in Chief in Volume 123, her hands were often ink-stained from the press rather than dusted with developer from the darkroom. But when the opportunity arose, she loved capturing a subject’s essence through her lens—especially in portraiture.

“The photo of Mr. David Fox most likely used natural light from a window in the room because we didn’t have much lighting equipment,” Thorlakson told The Journal in a statement.

David Fox, a celebrated Canadian actor, left a lasting mark on both stage and screen. His standout roles at the Stratford Festivalbecame iconic, and he captured hearts with his long-running role in the beloved TV series Road to Avonlea (1990).

“It was shot on film, of course—this was the pre-digital age,” Thorlakson said.

But the magic of photography didn’t end with the click of a shutter. Developing film was an art form in itself, and Thorlakson says she left that delicate process to those with more experience.

“I was almost certainly not the person to develop the film in the darkroom because I was not very good at that—more likely, the talent behind this photo’s development was Tricia Bauman, The Journal’s amazing photographer,” she said.

The memory of that photograph—captured more than three decades ago—has softened around the edges, much like the grain of old film. But one thing remains clear: Thorlakson’s fascination with light.

“I liked to experiment with the way it fell across a subject’s face,” she said. “The lighting in this one is perhaps a little harsh, but I like it. There’s some drama to it.”

Time has blurred the exact circumstances of that shoot, but it has sharpened Thorlakson’s nostalgia for her Journal days. When she wasn’t immersed in The Journal, she was working for the Kingston Whig-Standard, under the mentorship of the Editor in Chief Jack Chiang.

“If you haven’t seen Jack’s photography, you need to find one of his books,” she said. “He taught me a great deal about photography, including portrait photography.”

Chiang’s name is etched into the annals of Canadian photojournalism. With more than two dozen awards to his name—including the Canadian Press Picture of the Month and the Ontario News Photographers’ Picture of the Year—his work has graced the pages of The New York Times, The Christian Science Monitor, Moscow News, and Reader’s Digest.

Thorlakson’s days behind the lens may have been fleeting, but the lessons—on light, composition, and the power of an image—have endured, etched in memory like a well-developed print.

***

In a time where reconnecting with alumni is easier than ever, some of The Journal’s most notable photographers remain hard to track down.

Charles addresses the Queen’s community after receiving honorary Doctorate of Laws. PHOTO BY: Chris Philips (Oct. 29, 1991).

Take Maria Glickman and Chris Phillips—two Journal photographers whose work speaks louder than any e-mail chain or phone call could. Although they proved hard to reach, their images are etched into The Journal’s visual history.

Principal Smith, the Prince and Princess of Wales and Chancellor Benedickson respond to the crowd during the academic procession Monday morning. PHOTO BY: Maria Glickman (Oct. 29, 1991).

Glickman and Philips had a front-row seat to history. In 1991, when Princess Diana and Prince Charles stepped onto Queen’s campus, it was her lens that captured the moment—the flash of a royal smile, the poised elegance of a future queen, the hushed awe of the crowd.

These weren’t just photographs—they were windows into a moment that would never come again, immortalizing the grace and grandeur of Princess Diana in a way that still captivates decades later.

PHOTO BY: Maria Glickman (Oct. 29, 1991)

Though The Journal was unable to contact Glickman and Philips, their work reminds us that sometimes, a photographer’s presence is best felt through the stories they leave behind.

***

Looking back, Demers reflects on the vibrant pulse of student journalism: the energy, enthusiasm, and confidence to produce a constant flow of content, week after week.

“It was exciting to be contributing and documenting, and I’m very grateful for that opportunity,” Demers said.

Although Demers had the chance to pursue subsequent degrees in journalism and library science, he ultimately chose the latter, now working as Yorkville District Manager at the Toronto Public Library.

“I often wonder about the path not chosen,” Demers said.

When asked what makes an “iconic” photo, Faulkner’s answer, modestly, is luck.

“If my photo is iconic, it’s only due to what occurred afterwards,” Faulkner said.

“There are many elements that can make a photo iconic. I think an iconic photo captures emotion or energy. It moves us or succeeds in capturing a key or fleeting moment. Always, there is some artistry to the composition,” Thorlakson replied.

For Kemp, a different chapter has unfolded in his life, one that intersects photography with education and the evolving landscape of visual arts.

As as an Associate Professor in the Photography Media Arts program, in Image Arts at the Creative School, at Toronto Metropolitan University, Kemp’s perspective on photography has deepened.

“Photography in general is going through a bit of an identity crisis,” Kemp said.

“With advances in digital imaging technologies, the ubiquity of smartphone photography, AI-generated images, and the glut of imagery on social media outlets, ‘photography’ isn’t seen as the highly-skilled practice or viable career path that it used to be,” Kemp said.

Kemp is particularly concerned about the decline of photojournalism.

“I think this [decline] is primarily due to declining budgets in most media outlets, and they simply can’t afford to have photojournalists on staff,” he said.

The effects of a decline in photojournalism are far-reaching, including in the realm of education.

“The last cohort of the last photojournalism program in Canada, at Loyalist College, will be graduating this spring. After this, there won’t be any Canadian options at all for formal, post-secondary education in photojournalism,” Kemp said.

This decline represents a serious problem in our image-saturated world, Kemp says.

“We need skilled image makers and visual-literate individuals more than ever in order to untangle the complex web of networked images we are now surrounded by,” Kemp said. In the face of a changing media landscape, the need for thoughtful, skilled photographers has never been more urgent.

Demers, Faulkner, and Kemp offer a powerful snapshot of student journalism’s impact on both their personal trajectories and the broader media landscape.

From the thrill of capturing moments in time to grappling with the shifting tides of photography, Journal alumni experiences speak to the lasting importance of visual storytelling—whether through a darkroom’s glow or a digital lens.

Tags

Alumni, Journalism, photojournalism, Photos

All final editorial decisions are made by the Editor(s) in Chief and/or the Managing Editor. Authors should not be contacted, targeted, or harassed under any circumstances. If you have any grievances with this article, please direct your comments to journal_editors@ams.queensu.ca.

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