Although I had arrived just after the opening hour, the din of the crowd had already filled the dark entrance to the pub and echoed out into ACAD's concrete corners. Not ready for the bar atmosphere I wandered through the adjacent gallery where I caught my first sight of Theo Sims' project from the back. Like watching a play from the wings, or stumbling across a movie set on a stroll through the city, this view collapsed the illusion before it had a chance to suspend disbelief. About an hour later, after settling into the relational drift of the evening, this backstage area would function more like a breaking of the fourth wall.

When I finally made my way into low-light interior of the pub, I learned that The Candahar, the title of the work painted on the mirror behind the bar, referred to the street where Sims lived in southern Belfast, a rough-living stretch of the city. The swinging wooden door in the back served as a threshold of fiction. A step through this door and the veneer of reality from the interior fell away. From behind you could spot the dvd player high-up on a shelf with a wire leading in through a small hole to the tv inside, where it played television recorded in Belfast for the swarms in the bar.

The crowd was made up of mostly Calgarian locals, and instead of Guinness, the taps poured a local sponsor, Big Rock brewery. The bartender, Brian Flynn, had an austere manner (and beautiful white hair) that suited the bar. Having never been to Ireland I can't attest to the neighborhood style bar's authenticity, and I'm not sure a formal analysis has much to offer us here. The Candahar is a transformation of a space-for-objects (the gallery) into a space for social activity (the pub). The "public house" has a long tradition as a social space where politics are contested, stories are told and the aura of community is established – all with the help of alcohol. (wikipedia says: "In many places, especially in villages, a pub can be the focal point of the community, playing a similar role to the local church in this respect.") Whether or not Sims intends to reignite this history, with two dollar pints and dollar ham sandwiches, we can safely assume that a profit is not his motive.

As the opening hours came to conclusion, a few people, including myself, were reluctant to leave. Earlier in the night a rumor had circulated that there might be whiskey after-hours and several people stayed on after the doors had closed... we carried on until Sims pushed us out using a broom like a plow. Stumble drunk and high on conversation, the evening continued into the street.