Inside Au Pays des Géants, the workshop behind Montreal’s most iconic parade floats

It's less than a week until the 200th St. Patrick's Day Parade rolls down the streets of Montreal. Wearing an apron covered with paint and sawdust, Paméla Campeau Pelletier looks up: Above her, a rainbow bursts from the brim of a green hat, arching skyward before splashing down into a pot of gold.

"This one was completely custom-made specifically for this year's parade," she says. "It's the highlight of the show."

In less than a week, this float—one of nearly two dozen her family’s company has crafted—will roll through the streets of Montreal, swallowed by the noise of bagpipes, cheers, and the stomping of boots on pavement. Right now, there’s no music, only the sound of light tinkering, ironing and checking each costume, and the voice of her mother, Denise Campeau, giving final instructions if any.

For over 40 years, Au Pays des Géants has been the quiet force behind Montreal’s grandest public spectacles—St. Patrick’s, Pride, Christmas processions, festivals that turn city streets into dreamscapes. If you’ve ever seen a puppet looming three storeys high, its mechanical limbs moving with eerie grace, or a float so elaborate it feels like a film set rolling past, you’ve seen their work. You just didn’t know it.

The hidden hands that build the magic

“There are only three of us in Quebec who do this kind of work. It's definitely a niche market,” Denise says as she leans against her workshop outside.

She founded Au Pays des Géants in the 1980s with her late husband, Guy Pelletier. He had dreamed of being an actor—until a chance encounter with a puppetry workshop changed everything. Taught by Peter Schumann of Bread & Puppet Theatre, the workshop opened a door to a world where theatre and public space collided, where performances weren’t confined to stages but spilled into the streets, turning cities into living, breathing stories.

"Guy and I were in love with giant puppets. During the 1980s, we founded this company for them," Denise recalls. "We toured with them, and over time, we developed the concept of parade floats in response to client demand."

"Year after year, we traveled extensively with these floats throughout the United States, Canada, and elsewhere. We also had children, a beautiful family who followed us in this adventure. Today, we primarily do themed events with floats, but we still create events with giant puppets—that's our passion," Denise says.

"We've been doing this for 42 years now. We essentially created our own job," she adds, looking out over an icy parking lot framed by floats stabled like horses.

"People don't always understand that—we really invented our career. We did it with passion and love.

Where giants are born

Run by the next generation with Paméla and her sister Léa, Au Pays des Géants revolves around a sprawling workshop in Saint-Calixte—about an hour and a half outside Montreal—a space big enough to house their arsenal of puppets, floats, and costumes.

"We have over a dozen floats stored here, plus all the giant puppets and materials,” says Paméla, who acts as the company’s Vice President and Project Manager. "There’s no way we could do this in Montreal. We need the space."

A single float takes months to build. First come the sketches, a dance between artistic vision and structural reality. Then the carpenters step in, constructing frames sturdy enough to hold performers and withstand the jostle of a parade route. Sculptors and painters follow, layering on depth, texture, and the illusion of weightlessness.

The team itself is fluid. Depending on the season, anywhere from five to thirty artisans cycle through, including sculptors, carpenters, designers, and dressmakers.

“January to March, it’s all about St. Patrick’s. Then we jump into summer festivals and Pride. By July, we’re already knee-deep in Christmas. It’s constant.”

A float for the United Irish Societies of Montreal in the 2025 St. Patrick's Day Parade, for example, kicked off with concept meetings back in October 2024—about six months leeway.

“It had to feel traditional but fresh,” Paméla recalls. “Two of our designers worked with them on colours, themes, symbols. Once everything was approved, the carpenters went to work, then the costume makers, then the decorators.” The final product? A 12-foot-high, 30-foot-long rolling piece of Irish pride.

Some floats are one-offs, designed fresh every year. Others, like McKibbin’s Irish Pub’s parade entry, get annual makeovers. “Sometimes it’s just a touch-up—a repaint here, a new prop there,” says Paméla. “Other times, it’s a complete rebuild.”

And then there are clients that demand something new every single year. “It’s wild,” she laughs. “Some of these floats take on a life of their own.”

You're either in the parade, or watching it

Paméla and her family are always showing up to see their work in action.

“St. Patrick’s is like a family reunion for us,” she says. “My mom’s there, my sisters are there, we’re all dressed in green. We take photos, we check to make sure everything’s running smoothly, and then we just enjoy it.”

The same goes for Pride, Christmas, and everything in between. “Every parade has its own energy. St. Patrick’s is one big party, Christmas is pure nostalgia, and Pride is electric. You can feel the joy in the air,” she says.

On the horizon, as the fresh infusion of new blood into Au Pays des Géants, Paméla sees more puppets, more floats, more magic on the horizon. But she's also set her sights on something missing in Montreal’s parade scene. “The city doesn’t have a proper Halloween parade,” she muses. “Maybe we’ll change that.”

For now, though, the focus is on keeping the legacy alive. “We love seeing families come out, kids staring up in awe,” she says.

“That’s why we do this. To make people feel like, just for a little while, they’re in another world.”