Why the Banff Centre’s support for literary journalism is so crucial

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Of the tens of thousands of Globe and Mail stories I have read over the years, one of the pieces that has stayed with me was Emma Gilchrist’s exquisitely devastating essay about having to terminate a pregnancy. It was so full of evocative little details – like how her bicycle helmet was tucked under the hood of her puffy jacket in the last photo taken of her before she learned that her fetus was not viable. Full of information about fetal anomalies – described often as “typos in the genetic code” – the story was deeply reported, beautifully written and utterly readable.

The piece was shaped, in part, at the Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity, in the literary journalism program.

This week, the award-winning Canadian author Charlotte Gill, who has been the Banff Centre’s Rogers Chair of the Literary Journalism program since 2019, announced on X, formerly Twitter, that the program, “in its storied, much-celebrated form” was ending, as was her position there. Non-fiction programming will continue, she clarified, beginning with a literary journalism course on memoir next year.

Rebecca Solnit, literary non-fiction goddess, was among those who reacted. “Sad to hear that the program is ending. I had a wonderful residency there in 1993 (and got the Douglas Cardinal spiral-shaped cabin in the woods, which was magical),” Ms. Solnit wrote on X.

I also chimed in. The loss of a program specifically for reported non-fiction felt like yet another kick in the teeth for Canadian journalism, which has already suffered so much through downsizing, concentration of ownership and complete shutdowns – including the just-announced closing of Kamloops This Week, the B.C. city’s last newspaper, after more than 35 years in operation. Not to mention the current war with tech giants over Canadian internet legislation.

And it felt like more bad news for deeply researched works of Canadian non-fiction – which, as author Charlotte Gray lamented in a recent Globe and Mail piece, are disappearing, often in favour of memoir.

So, now the good news. Derek Beaulieu, director of literary arts at Banff, says the plan is to in fact expand its literary journalism offerings. The memoir residency is one of three the centre hopes to offer, with 14 participants in each (up from eight writers total in the previous program). While there are still a lot of TBDs, the vision is to offer two focused programs (such as memoir, or, say, environmental, science or sports journalism – and this will change) and one open-topic residency. Memoir was chosen first because of its popularity, in particular with BIPOC writers.

“A lot of writers … fed their own fear and their own worries,” Mr. Beaulieu told me on Thursday. “They unfortunately felt that they saw their art form was in danger. When in fact what we’re doing is we’re increasing our engagement and increasing our investment.”

What a relief – not just for the handful of Canadians who want to write this stuff, but for all of us who rely on journalism to shine light into the dark corners, speak truth to power – choose your cliché (none of which would likely make it past the editors who run these programs).

Established in 1989 with Robert Fulford as its inaugural chair, Literary Journalism at Banff has produced and nourished work that has had real consequences – public awareness, policy changes – and for the writers themselves and their careers, which, let’s face it, are tenuous at best in the current journalistic landscape.

Now, more than ever, we need “deep, thorough, but especially well-written journalism, because there’s so much competition for everybody’s attention and it’s only that kind of writing that gets the attention,” The Globe’s Ian Brown, who was chair from 2010 to 2017, told me this week. “The writing that picks you up and takes you with [the writer] in the sea of stuff that’s constantly pounding against your personal shore.”

The wave of concern about the future of the program unleashed on social media this week indicates a hunger for this kind of work.

For many Canadians who write reported non-fiction, this program has been a beacon: a boost along the path for those fortunate enough to have attended, or a goal for potential future attendees.

Canadian writers dream of a Banff residency: to be holed up in the mountains with no concerns other than your words. To be fed in every way – intellectually, as you work among like-minded artists, but also the three square meals a day that you don’t have to worry about preparing yourself, so you can focus on your art.

The Banff Centre is a rare gem that has been essential for so many Canadian artists and is admired internationally. There has been a lot of grumbling over recent years about the place straying from its artistic focus. The literary journalism program has made important contributions. I look forward to, as we say in the business, more to come.