There’s something about seeing it all in one place—faces familiar and new, spritzes in hand, records spinning, plates passing from kitchen to crowd. This photo gallery doesn’t just capture the block party.
It captures the thing we’ve been quietly building since our first articles and newsletters: a community of collaborators, characters, and readers who give a damn.
On July 20, 2025 that community came to life at Bar WILLS, where Montreal showed up hard. JoJo Flores and DJ HIDI set the tone with warmth and deep cuts. La Spada fed the soul with dishes like focaccia dressed up with peaches and tomato, arancini, and cacio e pepe popcorn.
Writers meeting readers, neighbours swapping stories, chefs, artists, and DJs trading notes—it was a beauty of a day. We said we were throwing a party, but what happened was something better: a reminder of why we started The Main in the first place.
If you were there, you already know. If you weren’t—scroll through and see what it looked like when a local magazine invited its city to show up, and the city actually did.
Thanks so much to everyone who came out!
Photos by Marie Rousseau:
Photos by Pierre Magallanes:
Photos by Philip Tabah:
There’s something about seeing it all in one place—faces familiar and new, spritzes in hand, records spinning, plates passing from kitchen to crowd. This photo gallery doesn’t just capture the block party.
It captures the thing we’ve been quietly building since our first articles and newsletters: a community of collaborators, characters, and readers who give a damn.
On July 20, 2025 that community came to life at Bar WILLS, where Montreal showed up hard. JoJo Flores and DJ HIDI set the tone with warmth and deep cuts. La Spada fed the soul with dishes like focaccia dressed up with peaches and tomato, arancini, and cacio e pepe popcorn.
Writers meeting readers, neighbours swapping stories, chefs, artists, and DJs trading notes—it was a beauty of a day. We said we were throwing a party, but what happened was something better: a reminder of why we started The Main in the first place.
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There’s something about seeing it all in one place—faces familiar and new, spritzes in hand, records spinning, plates passing from kitchen to crowd. This photo gallery doesn’t just capture the block party.
It captures the thing we’ve been quietly building since our first articles and newsletters: a community of collaborators, characters, and readers who give a damn.
On July 20, 2025 that community came to life at Bar WILLS, where Montreal showed up hard. JoJo Flores and DJ HIDI set the tone with warmth and deep cuts. La Spada fed the soul with dishes like focaccia dressed up with peaches and tomato, arancini, and cacio e pepe popcorn.
Writers meeting readers, neighbours swapping stories, chefs, artists, and DJs trading notes—it was a beauty of a day. We said we were throwing a party, but what happened was something better: a reminder of why we started The Main in the first place.
If you were there, you already know. If you weren’t—scroll through and see what it looked like when a local magazine invited its city to show up, and the city actually did.
Thanks so much to everyone who came out!
Photos by Marie Rousseau:
Photos by Pierre Magallanes:
Photos by Philip Tabah:
There’s something about seeing it all in one place—faces familiar and new, spritzes in hand, records spinning, plates passing from kitchen to crowd. This photo gallery doesn’t just capture the block party.
It captures the thing we’ve been quietly building since our first articles and newsletters: a community of collaborators, characters, and readers who give a damn.
On July 20, 2025 that community came to life at Bar WILLS, where Montreal showed up hard. JoJo Flores and DJ HIDI set the tone with warmth and deep cuts. La Spada fed the soul with dishes like focaccia dressed up with peaches and tomato, arancini, and cacio e pepe popcorn.
Writers meeting readers, neighbours swapping stories, chefs, artists, and DJs trading notes—it was a beauty of a day. We said we were throwing a party, but what happened was something better: a reminder of why we started The Main in the first place.
Free account required
For readers who care about Montreal
Create a free account to read this story and access 3 articles per month, plus our weekly Bulletin.
From live audiovisual spectacles and outdoor installations to workshops, talks, and late-night performances, MUTEK’s 2026 celebration of art, electronic music, and technology will infuse six days with future-facing experiences.
At 22, Kane Parsons proves he can create terror from fluorescent lights, empty hallways, and pure unease. The harder task is giving that terror a purpose.
The sci-fi thriller sprawls under the weight of its own ambitions, but Steven Spielberg still finds moments of wonder, suspense, and cinematic magic few directors can match.
Before Angine de Poitrine, generations of Quebec musicians were building a world of costumes, performance art, invented languages, and gloriously unconventional music.
From live audiovisual spectacles and outdoor installations to workshops, talks, and late-night performances, MUTEK’s 2026 celebration of art, electronic music, and technology will infuse six days with future-facing experiences.
At 22, Kane Parsons proves he can create terror from fluorescent lights, empty hallways, and pure unease. The harder task is giving that terror a purpose.
The sci-fi thriller sprawls under the weight of its own ambitions, but Steven Spielberg still finds moments of wonder, suspense, and cinematic magic few directors can match.
Before Angine de Poitrine, generations of Quebec musicians were building a world of costumes, performance art, invented languages, and gloriously unconventional music.
Philippe Spurrell keeps rare prints out of dumpsters while Robert Miniaci reinvents the projectors that screen them. Together, they're proving the old ways still have life in Montreal.
The festival’s first wave mixes legacy acts, internet-era names, and a familiar attempt to prove Montreal’s comedy institution is firmly back on its feet.
Philippe Spurrell keeps rare prints out of dumpsters while Robert Miniaci reinvents the projectors that screen them. Together, they're proving the old ways still have life in Montreal.
The festival’s first wave mixes legacy acts, internet-era names, and a familiar attempt to prove Montreal’s comedy institution is firmly back on its feet.
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