The Glow of Home

cgoucher
Oct 20
4 min read

Trevor grew up in Kitchener, surrounded by landmarks that quietly shaped how he saw the world. The Schneiders sign. L&L Market. Victoria Park. Places that carried stories for generations.

As an artist, he calls his approach “neo-nostalgic”, a way of

reimagining familiar places with both modern precision and painterly warmth. His work doesn’t just depict buildings. It holds the memories wrapped up inside them.

For Trevor, each brushstroke is a way to honour community, capture a moment in time, and make the familiar feel extraordinary again.

I grew up in Kitchener, so seeing your paintings of places like the Schneiders sign or L&L Market feels really close to home. What first made you want to turn local spots into art?
I myself have always been a very nostalgic person, and tend to romanticize the past a bit. When I started taking my art career a little more seriously I discovered a profound connection to subjects that resonated with me personally—architecture and places that held deep meaning and stories. Nostalgia has always held a special place in my heart. The places I painted were the spots where I found joy, the locations where I laughed and made memories with friends. Some of these places were on the brink of closure, while others stood as cultural landmarks in our city's history. Capturing them became a way to immortalize their essence. Little did I know that the act of painting these locations would evoke powerful memories from others too. I believe community is not just about physical space—it's about the people who fill it, creating memories that make us yearn for the past and celebrate the present. I aim to convey these feelings! Much of my work shows little signs of life that are present in subtle ways.
When you start on a landmark, how do you decide what details to highlight so it feels both real and a little magical?
My main goal is to figure out what it is about a landmark that makes it instantly recognizable while also carrying the energy and stories behind it. Often that comes down to signage, atmosphere, or architecture—sometimes all three working together. Technically, I use detail and sharp edges to guide the eye, then lose edges in surrounding areas to keep the focus where it matters. I've coined the term "neo-nostalgic" which is basically the intersection of tradition and modernity–classic subject matter reimagined through contemporary tools. With a background in traditional mediums (which I still practice), I carry painterly principles and textures into my digital process. That mix of traditional techniques with digital precision often creates a hybrid style: realistic yet textured, with an expressionist touch and even the “magical.”
For me, the Schneiders sign was always the signal we were almost home. Was there a landmark that felt extra personal or tricky for you to capture?
I’d say the Kitchener Aud felt the most daunting, mainly because of the sheer size of the crowd. But once I decided to simplify things and see the mass of people as an abstract “texture” rather than individual figures, it suddenly became manageable—and honestly, a lot of fun to paint. It was also one of my most "unexpected" pieces that resonated with a lot of people throughout the community. True Canadian spirit!
I love that your work sparks memories for people. Has anyone ever told you a story about one of your paintings that changed how you see that place?
I’ve heard countless stories over the years (many of which made it into my book), but being a vendor at markets and festivals means I’m still hearing more all the time. Some are sad, some are joyful, and some are so hilarious they can’t be repeated. A recurring theme is Schneiders—so many people either worked there themselves or had family members who did. Because of that, I no longer see the sign as just a visual landmark, but as a representation of community and of a company that treated its employees with dignity and respect. (The same goes for Forwell’s and others btw) I’ve never heard anyone say a bad word about them—only stories of lasting friendships, and even people meeting their spouses there.The Victoria Park clock tower is another example. To many, it’s just a tower in the park, but I’ve learned it holds far more meaning. Originally part of Kitchener’s old city hall, it carries deep memories for older residents who still recall it with affection. What stands today is just one piece of a much larger, once-central part of the city’s architecture and community identity.
While painting these familiar spots, did you ever notice something about them that you’d never really seen before?
I’m not entirely sure, but one thing I’ve noticed is just how intricate and beautiful neon lighting is when you really stop to study it. It’s a shame we see less and less of it these days—there’s something warm and almost comforting about the glow it gives off. Thankfully some of these iconic signs are being preserved!
When locals spot your work, like I did with L&L Market, which is around the corner from me, what do you hope they walk away feeling?
I want people to feel joy and contentment—a positive emotion that comes from connecting not just with the location itself, but with the memories tied to it. Those feelings aren’t only about the buildings; they’re also about the people and the sense of community that many still carry from the past, and for some even today. In a time of such rapid change, my hope is to create a space where people can reconnect with those memories in a powerful way, using colour, light and mood to evoke both nostalgia and belonging.

Bonus; If you could “pause” one spot in KW and keep it forever, which one would it be?The original Princess Cinema! I could happily go there every week. A true step into the past.

Explore Trevor’s portfolio at trevorclare.art

This series grows through word of mouth and the creative people who nudge me toward the next conversation. If you know someone with a story worth sharing, I’d love to hear about them.

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