The paintings might remind you of a place that you have already visited in your dreams, or maybe an image you have already imagined while daydreaming, perhaps on the road or in nature.
Although the wind is held at Galerie Pangée at 1305 Pine Ave. West. The exhibition takes you into Darby Milbrath’s imaginary world, where the public can feel a sense of comfort while admiring the paintings.
Milbrath is a Toronto-based artist that has exhibited her work nationally and internationally. In Although the wind, the oil paintings evoke a sense of nostalgia. In her works, viewers can admire imaginative landscapes and perceive a few figures in some of them.
Her paintings evoke memories of her childhood, when she spent most of her time with her sisters. Some of the pieces portray the landscape of the West Coast Gulf Islands, a group of islands in British Columbia, where she was raised.
“The paintings are memories of sacred places I’ve been to or grown up near, on the island, surrounded by the sea,” said Milbrath.
Last summer, Milbrath lived on a farm on the west coast, on a small gulf island where she had time to work on her paintings. There, Milbrath was able to remember the times she spent on the island with her sisters. The smell of the fields and the images of the landscapes are part of her souvenirs.
At the exhibition, the works are displayed in three rooms; the big canvases are mostly together in one room, and the small and medium paintings are exhibited together in the next rooms of the gallery.
In the main room, an extraordinary painting can be noticed on the back wall: Starry Sky Over the Archipelago. It depicts a starry night with the moon shining in a dark blue sky. One could have the impression that the painting is moving. This sense of movement in her work is rooted to her background as a professional contemporary dancer. The artwork seems to project the tranquility of the night through various shades of blue. It is very dreamy.
Canvases such as Still Life with Apples and Still Life with Melons were painted with warm colors and contrasted by a dark blue background, emphasizing the fruits. The paintings depict inspiration that she takes from nature.
The Path is displayed between two long windows, which gives viewers the impression that there are three windows showing a mountain. At the bottom left of the canvas, there seems to be two women talking, surrounded by nature. Trees line a long path that looks enlightened by the light of the day. The road seems to lead the way to an unknown place, giving a sense of mystery and magic.
“This is where the magic emanates from and where I long to be, where I imagine I am if I’m not,” said Milbrath.
Although the wind is in reference to Izumi Shikibu’s poem “Although the wind…” from The Ink Dark Moon, translated by Jane Hirshfield and Mariko Aratani. The poem was recited to Milbrath by an old woman who owned the farm. The poem resonated well with her works in which she explores the concept of hope in darkness.
“She recited the poem to me about the moonlight and the ruined house and I thought about the barn,” said Milbrath. “How the wind howled through. How dying animals would find their way between the crooked planks to die in shelter.”
Although the wind is open to the public each week from Wednesday to Saturday until Oct. 31 from 12 p.m. to 5 p.m. or by appointment at 1305 Pine Ave. West. The exhibition is also available for viewing online.
A Harlem Nocturne presents the reflection of an Afro-Canadian artist Deanna Bowen
Consisting of research compiled in Vancouver and Toronto over the last four years by interdisciplinary artist Deanna Bowen, A Harlem Nocturne brings elements of the past to light that are still relevant in today’s society. Bowen exposes material that reveals Black experiences that tend to be forgotten via video footage, archival documents, and even some of Bowen’s own family experiences, which she shares through personal videos and photographs. The exhibition is held at three artist-run centres on 4001 Berri St.: OBORO, Ada X and Groupe Intervention Vidéo (GIV).
Curated by Kimberly Phillips, a Vancouver-based educator and curator, the exhibition is divided into two different spaces. Each space shares elements of Bowen’s research work to the public. When entering the building, the sound of a trumpet can be heard; immediately visible is a projection named A quick riff, 2020 that was produced in residency with OBORO, an art production centre, with the help of Charles Ellison who specializes in Jazz Studies at Concordia.
On the second floor is Ada X, a bilingual feminist artist centre. This area presents three different choreographic transcriptions, Gibson Notations 1,2 and 3, 2019 , exhibited in lightboxes on the walls. Each one displays a different dance that was created by dancer and choreographer Leonard Gibson. These dances were originally performed in CBC’s 1955 variety show Eleanor. The show was hosted by famous jazz singer Eleanor Collins, who was the first Afro-Canadian woman to host a national broadcast television series.
These three choreographic transcriptions can be visualized in the darker space of the gallery alongside Gibson Duets, 2018. Reproduced by Vancouver-based dancers Justine A. Chambers and Bynh Ho, the piece is a re-animation of Gibson’s original dances that were performed on the show.
“[Bowen] was quite interested in trying to pull [the choreographies] out of the archives and have them live in another form,” said Phillips.
OBORO is located on the third floor. A small room in front of the entrance displays a four-channel video installation named On Trial The Long Doorway, 2017/2019. The piece is a re-creation of a 1956 CBC tele-drama The Long Doorway, the story of a Black lawyer who represented a white student from the University of Toronto that was charged for assaulting a rising Black basketball player. Bowen’s great uncle, Herman Risby, played a supportive role, but no recordings of the tele-drama were found.
Fortunately, Bowen was able to use the original script and invited five Black Toronto-based actors to reinterpret the story. Viewers can see the actors engage with the script as they rehearse.
Moving on to the next larger room of the gallery is more of Bowen’s research. The room shows multiple works displayed on each wall, every single one of them informing the public about the presence of Black bodies in a settler colonized land. Some of these works exhibit Bowen’s own family experiences, where some family members were part of the entertainment industry.
A cast photograph of Vancouver’s Theatre Under the Stars from Finian’s Rainbow, circa 1953 depicts Bowen’s great uncle Herman Risby, and Risby’s first cousin Leonard Gibson. Both can be seen on the second row to the right in the company of jazz singer Eleanor Collins in the first row on the right.
“The photograph serves to remap places where Black people performed and make them visible in this community,” said Phillips.
Give Me Shelter, 2011/2019 is a workbook transcribing an interview with Bowen and her mother, where her mother speaks of her experience with racial violence growing up in Vancouver. A picture of Bowen’s grandfather can be viewed in the open book. Bowen’s grandfather was a preacher who once had to give spiritual guidance to a young Black man who was convicted of murder and sentenced to death; an uneasy situation for him.
Another interesting work is a screen print titled The Promised Land, a reference to an episode from a 1962 CBC television series called Heritage, that told the story of a Black community that escaped racial violence and segregation in the United States who settled in northern Alberta at the beginning of the 20th century, only to experience the same anti-Black racism in Canada.
“She reminds us that even seemingly insignificant documents can be rich repositories for unintended readings, and for questioning who has been charged with writing our histories and why,” said Phillips.
The exhibition provides visitors a map of the exhibition with descriptions of each work that are numbered. Reservations can be made online.
A Harlem Nocturne is on display by Ada X, Groupe, Intervention Vidéo (GIV), and OBORO at 4001 Berri St. until Oct. 17, 2020.
The Concordian staff discuss what items they’d include in the Broken Hearts Gallery
Lucy is, to be quite frank, a hoarder. Every imaginable surface of her room is covered with a bauble or an ornament. She sees everything as a piece of art: her bookshelf is lined with trinkets — so much so that you cannot really see her books — and a selection of random items are taped and pinned to her walls. These items, however, are not as random as they may seem upon first glance. They all have one thing in common: each item is a souvenir from a past relationship.
I guess you could say Lucy has some trouble letting go.
Directed by Natalie Krinsky, The Broken Hearts Gallery follows a New York City gallery assistant, Lucy Gulliver (Geraldine Viswanathan), as she curates an exhibition consisting exclusively of mementos, souvenirs, and knick knacks from past relationships.
While by no means a cinematographic masterpiece, and despite its ending being obvious within the first 15 minutes of the movie, it’s predictability lent itself to being a somewhat comforting, feel-good film — in the same way that most cheesy rom-coms are.
That being said, its exaggerated attempt at creating a romantically-inclined protagonist, alongside the incredibly loose and ill-defined use of the word “relationship,” led many questions to cross my mind throughout the duration of the film.
Among them, how is Lucy able to fill her room with mementos from all the people she has dated? And why is she heartbroken after seeing someone for a little over a month? Ultimately, leading my cynical self to think: No wonder she is miserable and if she is always that devastated after only a few weeks … maybe she shouldn’t be dating.
Despite these shortcomings, the film did yield many relatable moments which offered opportunities for a good laugh. Subsequently, this made me forget the apathetic questions I’d been asking myself throughout its duration, and the irritation I often felt towards Lucy’s overt optimism.
One question, however, did remain at the back of my mind: What item would I include in the Broken Hearts Gallery?
Here is The Concordian staff’s very own Broken Hearts Gallery:
—
Lorenza Mezzapelle, Arts Editor
I only have one item remaining from past relationships: a stuffed toy duck. My two dogs use it as a toy now. Do with that information what you will. Depending on how loosely we are applying the term “relationship,” I have a roll of unused black and white film that was gifted to me over a year ago… it’s probably expired. I guess the toy duck is what I’d exhibit, chew marks, drool, and all.
Elyette Levy, Assistant Commentary Editor
Maybe the matching phone case I got us on a whim one day. We were both very spontaneous people, and I think that’s a bit what that represents to me: having fun by doing things on impulse. I also really like to tell people I got it for $8 at Lionel-Groulx metro.
Chloë Lalonde, Creative Director
I’ve been in a relationship for the past seven years. But from before that, I’m pretty sure I have a stuffed Spider-Man somewhere in my parents house (too iconic to get rid of). And if deep, ex-friendships count, I have a pink flowery mug and a little wooden tray that goes along with it, which still hurts to look at. There used to be a spoon and a little teapot-shaped infuser, but the spoon broke and I lost the infuser. That would be what I’d exhibit, I think.
Michelle Lam, Social Media Manager
My partner and I recently separated. For my birthday last year, he gave me a necklace that I’ve been wearing ever since. Maybe one day, if I have it in my heart to take it off, I will include it in the Broken Hearts Gallery.
Hadassah Alencar, News Editor
I’ve been with my partner now for 10 years, married for eight of those years, so I really had to dig around my house to find something for this gallery. After all my Marie Kondoing last year the only memorabilia I can find is a hard cover, comic book version of The Little Prince, given to me by an ex in the beginning of a relationship that just wasn’t meant to be.
Christine Beaudoin, Photo Editor
I’ve been in a relationship for the past three years. Before that, I spent several years as a single lady. During that time, I moved a lot, so all I have left from my past relationships are Facebook photos taken with Mac’s photo booth application. Applying rainbow-coloured filters, we made weird faces and kissed in front of the screen. For this gallery, I think I would have one of those printed and framed.
Lillian Roy, Editor-in-Chief
I have a USB-key full of pictures from my first serious relationship that I couldn’t bring myself to permanently delete. While I could care less about looking through it now, I hope to stumble upon it one day as an old lady. I’ll spend a lovely afternoon getting tipsy and looking back on old memories.
Rose-Marie Dion, Graphics Editor
Last semester, I was in Melbourne, Australia for a student exchange and sadly had to come back earlier than expected due to the current situation. While I was over there, I went on a date to see a movie at this cute movie theater down the street from where I was living. I kept the movie ticket and put it in my travel journal. Everytime I see it, the first thing that comes to my mind is: aahh, what could have been.
Maggie Morris, Head Copy Editor
I ended a three-year-long relationship a couple years ago when I went back home to Ottawa for Christmas. When I got back to my apartment in Montreal a month later, I got wine drunk and took down all the photos I had framed and hung around my apartment of the two of us. I couldn’t bring myself to throw them out, and wanted to keep the memories (just, not on display to look at every day) so I bought a pretty box and filled it with the photos. I keep it on a bookshelf; there if I ever need to reminisce.
Nineteen emerging artists presented their art at the third annual edition of ARTCH
Beneath the trees, between the concrete buildings and within the vibrant life of Montreal’s downtown, at Dorchester Square, lay art. And not the art that we may encounter every day like the sunset behind Saint-Joseph Oratory or the colourful Jacques Cartier Bridge, but rather art through the eyes of artists who explore it to its full potential and are present to guide us through it.
Displayed from Sept. 9 to 13, in Montreal’s core, the initiative ARTCH was home to 19 emerging artists. Selected via an open call, they have received training in entrepreneurship and the art market to expand their artistic practice as well as feature their talent to the grand public. They came from different backgrounds, work in many mediums and approach art from every possible angle.
The one thing they share is the determination and passion to see art living within our homes, parks, streets, walls, buildings, statues, cars, chairs, maps, and even bodies.
For passersby and the artists themselves, the presence of the body is a key element of ARTCH, whether it is by the spectator having an artistic encounter that stimulates their day, by the virtual spectator at home whose body is absent but present, or by the artists’ body which performs and displays their art for every curious, non-curious, connoisseur, non-connoisseur, friend or stranger that wants to enjoy, experience or even respectfully critique the work outside the sometimes-intimidating four white walls of a gallery.
Each artist has been given a space to showcase their work and they are all accessible to the public. Fifteen artists have been given a booth to showcase and sell their pieces, while four performers are given a designated spot on the grass or next to the sculpture in the centre for in situ artworks.
In this special edition, ARTCH has adapted and extended the physical exhibition to one that can also be experienced from our homes. Digital spaces like Instagram, Facebook and Zoom are now host to new and innovative art through live tours of the show, conferences, showrooms and more.
For Max Keene, one of the featured artists and a student at Concordia, this opportunity represents a more welcoming space where new conversations behind face masks, perspectives and opinions may rise from a different range of spectators that wouldn’t otherwise be possible in a gallery space or in a studio.
“We live in an interesting time,” said Keene. He went on to explain that art nowadays searches for more connection: with the audience, with the materials and even with other disciplines. The sculptural and photographic works presented in Kenne’s booth of humoristic and metaphorical mises-en-scène are one of many examples of the interdisciplinarity featured in this year’s edition of ARTCH.
Dexter Barker-Glenn, another featured artist and an undergraduate Concordia student, creates sculptural paintings using one of the most known supports for the human body, the chair, to reflect on the “human touches,” as he described. The artist finds that those traces we leave in our material possessions, our everyday objects, are reminiscent of the emotional, physical and mental connections we establish, consciously or not, and are a great source of inspiration. Barker-Glenn’s artistic practice goes beyond the disciplines of painting and sculpture to create a hybrid of the two that can transform any given space by playing with the placement of the pieces. For example, by placing art on the ceiling.
Nearby, Andrée-Anne Mercier continued the exploration of space and mediums with an ensemble of paintings, depictions of architectural landscapes of places in Japan, Hawaii and Montreal. Mercier considers the activity of walking and photographing very inspirational for her practice, as well as the Japanese concept of Wabi-sabi that embraces and rejoices in three values: imperfection, incompletion and impermanence. She reflects on these values for her aesthetics, her ideas and even her installations, which are very playful and question the role of space, limits and materials.
Similarly, on the other side of Dorchester Square, Ahreum Lee’s works also reflect on spaces, documentation and limits. Lee recently immigrated to Canada from South Korea and is now completing an MFA at Concordia. In addition to carrying a lot of meaning around her life both here and there, the work Lee presented at ARTCH explored the theme of impermanence; the main piece of the module is a big altered map of the world that combines and rethinks a kid’s game with the geopolitical aspect of maps.
And these were just four artists in the complex equation of this year’s edition of ARTCH. The disciplines were many, the spectators were multiplied (physically and virtually), the masks were a plus, the potential was exponential, the square was full of art and the art was “squared.”
To learn more about the artists and ARTCH, visit their website at http://artch.org/
A collective shows how beneficial it is to support local artists
It all started as a small initiative to provide local artists with a source of income during the pandemic. Now, les Encans de la quarantaine has become something bigger. The outcome was unexpected.
Sara A. Tremblay, a Concordia alumna who graduated in Photography in 2014, launched the initiative in late March. The initiative is a virtual platform that promotes works from Canadian-based artists and offers a source of income to them by connecting them to potential buyers. When the project began, Tremblay looked for artists that wished to sell their artwork; it instantly became a success. Tremblay has received many artworks since the opening of the collective. Many came from artists attending universities, like Pardiss Amerian, an Iranian-Canadian visual artist who is currently completing her Master’s in Fine Arts at Concordia.
“I was constantly overwhelmed by the size of the collective. It became bigger than I thought,” Tremblay said.
Although Tremblay resides in the Eastern Townships, she was able to connect with Montreal’s artistic community easily online. Since the beginning, Tremblay has been working on the collective remotely with other members that reside in Montreal.
“It’s great to be able to work with the artistic community of Montreal and not live in the city,” continued Tremblay.
Little by little, Tremblay found people who would be willing to help her manage the collective. Tasks include drafting press releases, helping conceptualize the initiative, and managing the collective’s Facebook page and Instagram account. At first, applications were sent to her personal Facebook account. Instead, she redirected applicants to an email linked to the collective.
Over the course of the summer, lots of work started to pile up on Tremblay’s desk. In response to the collective’s growth, Tremblay decided to register the collective as a non-profit organization. She has an advisory committee from the artistic community to guide her with grant applications, and is in the process of creating an administrative council.
Since July 13, the collective has asked for a contribution of between $20 and $30 from both artists and buyers after each time a piece is sold to help fund the collective.
“That gives us a little money,” Tremblay said. “It’s not much for now, but eventually we will be raising funds.”
As a result of the first call for applications, 425 artworks were received, of which 275 were selected. The collective took up the challenge of selling 96 per cent of the works chosen from the first callout. Most artists have many artworks, which gives them a chance to reach a wider audience.
For the second call for artworks, Tremblay wants to attract more of an audience of seasoned collectors, and will do so by increasing the quality and maintaining a tighter selection of works.
“The success that the initiative has generated proves that it was necessary to distribute, for free, the work of artists who are not represented by art galleries,” said Tremblay. “At first, we did present the work of artists that were already represented, but we had to clarify our mandate to not interfere with art galleries. Now, we represent independent artists that can be spotted by galleries.”
Tremblay will be teaching an introductory digital photography course at the University of Sherbrooke this fall and will participate in an online residency project called 3 fois 3 from le Centre d’exposition de l’Université de Montréal on Instagram. In order to stabilize her other projects, she has delegated some of the collective to other members of the team.
“My purpose is to promote artists that don’t yet have a platform. This can be a first step for them,” she said. “The people who follow us on social media have an interest in discovering new talents. Not all of the artists are new in showing their artworks, but they may not be represented by an art gallery. My team and I circulate art and that’s my goal.”
Les Encans de la quarantaine’s second call for applications is open until Wednesday, Sept. 30.
How an Iranian artist reminds viewers of their humanity
A Canadian lynx missing its paws, a bumblebee with no wings, a wolf pack howling in the night with no legs to stand on. This is what climate change is leaving us with; endangered species upon endangered species, decaying as the planet is dying.
At least, that is what Shabnam Zeraati wants you to feel and think about in her newest exhibition, Side Effects, at Atelier Circulaire in the Mile End. Side Effects is not only an exhibition concerning wildlife and the dangers climate change poses on them, but what a decaying planet means for human beings as well.
Zeraati’s animal drawings are scattered across the gallery, but the most striking installation is the white plaster hand coming out of a black puddle, positioned in the middle of the room, as if it were drowning and asking for help — which is exactly what she was going for.
“In all of my projects I try to invite the spectator to think and be sensible towards everyday occurrences, and what is happening in the world,” she said.
Zeraati was born in Iran and is now based in Montreal where she has shown her work in places like MAI, Maison de la culture in Longueuil, Musée historique du Madawaska, Atoll art actuel in Victoriaville, and Articule. Her works often showcase her desire to cross different techniques in her art, from screen printing, to engraving, to moulding.
Her artistic journey led to her leave Iran in 2003, with no intention of going back. Prior to moving indefinitely to Montreal in 2011, she studied in France, though she admits she didn’t particularly feel quite at ease there.
“It’s hard, living in France as a stranger,” she confessed. “I couldn’t progress artistically like I wanted to. In Canada, there are a lot of opportunities for artists, and it coincided with what I was looking for.”
“In high school, I knew I didn’t want to continue in sciences, whether it were in biology, human sciences, or physics,” she added. “So my choice was to go in graphics in university. That’s when I felt that I wanted to go more into drawing, and visual arts.”
Side Effect, she stated, was an idea born out of a migratory mammal encyclopedia she had created in 2017. Zeraati primarily describes her pieces in Side Effect as a narrative. “My prime objective is to make art as comprehensive as possible for everyone, not just for elitists,” she explained.
“Shabnam Zeraati plunges us into a near future, already clearly perceptible, in which the shift away from our responsibilities is the greatest threat,” said Gauthier Melin, the communication manager for Atelier Circulaire’s executive board.
Zeraati’s animals, receding into the gallery walls, move from a beige colour to an invisible white. But it is the presence of the plaster hands on the floor, reaching for help, that adds an layer of meaning to her work.
“These outstretched hands cry for help, condensing the stereotypes used in media representations of migratory movements over the past decade, and in particular the treatment of the Syrian refugee crisis,” said Melin, “as a result, the work brings us to another reality of global warming: climate refugees.”
Gripping, disturbing, raw, and, most of all, painfully realistic, Zeraati’s works not only invite the viewer to ponder over the reality of climate change, but calls for them to remember their humanity.
I have been to many vernissages and gallery openings. They are all more or less the same; upbeat music plays on a sound system – or a DJ, usually a friend of the artist, plays a live set – the crowd consists of young creatives and their friends or a well-established artist and middle-aged art enthusiasts looking to purchase a work or pass the time. While lively, these events are generally not like anything you see on TV.
The second edition of DécouvART, however, was very much like something out of an episode of Sex and the City, Gossip Girl or any show who’s premise evolves around Manhattan’s elite. Upon entering into the lobby elevator, one could hear loud, upbeat electronic music, played by a DJ. Cameras flashed continuously as photographers captured artists posing in front of their works, and groups of young people stood poised, cocktails in hand, as they conversed.
As the name DécouvART suggests, the space was provided as a place for discovery of current happenings in the Montreal art milieu and aimed to promote emerging artists in Quebec. Held at Gallery Gora, the event was hosted by Fondation Proaction International, whose mission is to support artists as a means of enriching the arts and culture sector.
The featured works were selected among artist applications and included painting, sculpture and photography. Collectors, gallery owners, agents and Quebec’s minister of culture were among the invited guests. Attendees were invited to vote for the best artist and were given the opportunity to win up to $10,000 in prizes.
Karine Demers’ Pliage 63/Architecture consisted of black and white pieces of paper, folded geometrically, and assembled to form various shapes. The origami-like work changed colours depending on the angle from which it was being observed; a peach tone if looking from the right, and a bright yellow from the left.
Alexis Couzino’s series of three works named Nage Macabre consisted of black velvet mounted on canvas and sequined silver fish. The work offered a representation of the current state of the oceans, as caused by society, and the romanticized beauty of the world, which is gradually being destroyed.
The variety of innovative artworks, the large crowd and upscale environment of DécouvART demonstrated that networking events don’t have to be exclusively for entrepreneurs. The overall reach and presence of the press seemed to promise opportunity for emerging artists in the Montreal area. While it is another topic to be had, DécouvART helped contribute to the idea that there should be a reward for creative work.
Reflections on Gordon Matta Clark’s Rough Cuts and Outtakes
As usual, I was arriving late, not stylishly late, just expectedly late, as is expected of me. I have gotten better at this, and I had real justifications for it. I was swinging by from the FASA general meeting which happened to coincide with the vernissage of Rough Cuts and Outtakes, a collection of Gordon Matta Clark’s work exhibited by Hila Peleg, but by a couple of minutes.
So, as I was outside of the Canadian Centre of Architecture (CCA), I started to freak out a bit. The whole entrance was completely desolate, except for a pair of young boys who were kicking a football around and telling each other to go f*ck themselves. The buildings impressive white facade dwarfed them, making it feel even lonelier.
Considering this was the opening of an exhibition, I had expected at least a couple of stragglers waiting outside, having cigarettes or whatever people waiting for shows do – and considering I was a mere 10 minutes off it didn’t seem like an impossibility. I entered the reception lobby and greet the ticket sellers. Embarrassed by my tardiness, I hesitated at first but asked if the exhibit opened the following day, thinking I was a day off. They assured me that no, I was there at the right time and that the speaker had began, I just had to turn to the left. While I was momentarily relieved, I was still sent on a scramble down the long empty corridors of the CCA, accompanied only by fake plaster corinth pillars and victorian decor.
The speakers had begun, I could see from the far most right corner of the amphitheatre. It was dark and impossible to see if there were any seats left. An usher assured me there were seats but at the leftmost corner of the room, right at the front. I still could not see anything. I crossed the back row and stopped, seeing there was a cameraman aiming down the catwalk towards my expected seat. The usher finds this unacceptable, comes to me, and asks me what’s up. I said that everything was alright I just didn’t want to get in front of the camera and that I was happy to remain standing, but she wouldn’t have that and dragged me promptly to an empty seat.
When I finally settled, it was not just my cheeks that were relieved, but I had skipped out on the terribly boring introduction and hadn’t missed any of the juicy stuff. Hila Peleg, the curator of the exhibition, was only then walking towards the podium. Simultaneously, a large grey projection screen slowly scroll downwards. The lights on the stage went off and a projection flickered to life as grainy images of a sad looking and dilapidated house appeared. These were the cuts and extras from Clark’s famous work Splitting (1974), an intervention piece in which Clark and collaborators vertically sawed their way through the entirety of a New Jersey suburban residency that had been abandoned after residents were evicted in the wake of an upcoming urban renewal project.
Except again, this wasn’t Splitting proper. These were outtakes, the waning moments before the cutting began as the camera explores masses of personal objects strewn about by the yard of the residence while Clark and his collaborators crawl along the residence roof making measurements. The clips are few, damaged, and collaged together. Their only identifiable feature was that they are all images of the same house. But perhaps these off-hand shots are more defining and revealing as to the nature of Clark’s work than his mystical and anonymous spatial carvings will ever appear to the uninspired viewer. The great truth of his works lies in the old mattress, left to right in the cold sun. It speaks of people evicted and their homes and neighborhoods destroyed,and perhaps in their vernacular simplicity, they embody their energy and troubles better than any house ever could.
The city of Englewood, where the film shooting took place, is composed of mostly working class neighborhoods. The area has an almost equal number of African American residents to white of the city population. The particular neighborhood where Splitting was done was mostly of African American descent, according to census readings, hence it shouldn’t be surprising then to see how exclusionary social policies ended up mostly clearing out the neighborhood.
Other snippets of Clark’s work drew some of the same conclusions in different ways and forms, but it all came down to the same thing. Has architecture failed us?
This is the same question that resonates from the abandoned clutter of household items to the tired mistreated structures that star in Clark’s work. This is an amusingly loaded question coming from an ex-architecture student, a heated discourse that is a mixture of both personal feelings of shame and maybe relief.
I love architecture, don’t get me wrong. I love looking at buildings and losing myself in their mysterious contours and repetitions, but my question aims more towards the general policy of most architecture in the 21st century. Undoubtedly, construction is linked with urban planning, but for something meant to be a force of beauty and social cohesion, architecture usually comes down to money and time (as most things sadly). A surrounding rhetoric has been that of speedy cheap construction.
In a vain pursuit of grandiosity and efficiency, much has been overlooked. Splittings’ few, second-long outtakes capture this in the refuse pile, pulling our attention away from the building by refocusing on the original subjects, the inhabitants. Despite all its ambition, architecture and to that extent construction is about making spaces that promote the health and prosperity of people. While they are definitely important, maybe the lofty ideals architecture claims to promote are utopian delusions. Through his life, Clark criticized established architectural practices,most notingly with his group Anarchitecture. In its manifesto and ideology, Matta rejected the orderliness and efficiency of modern cities, and celebrated the disorder of densely packed inner city life. I believe this celebration can be felt in those veering shots of the forgotten personal articles. The structures that are supposed to keep us warm and safe are bargaining chips that can be tossed at any moment with little regard for the tiny beings that inhabit them, much less for their few personal belongings. Conical Intersect (1975) is another display that shows buildings in pain, mutilated and left for dead, which isn’t too far a cry from the people evicted from those very structures, and left out in the cold.
Additionally Clark displayed a longing interest for ethnography and, in particular, archeology. Some of the secondary material that will be shown in January of next year will include a great deal of the photographs he took during his trips to South America. From the snippets shown, these include the gloomy images of Inca and Mesoamerican relics.The importance of these is that constant interest in people, their customs, vestments and the role that they play or represent in the imagined spaces left by their ancestors. But this is nothing new, there has always been a profound interest in ruins by poets, writers and artists. From biblical descriptions of the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah and their damning implications, the fantastic imaginings of the members of the mostly italian capricci movement in the 16th century, to the apocalyptic prophesying of european artists in the inter and post war period. There has been a historical shift in the portrayal of ruins, from one of mystical and nostalgic allure to one of foreshadowing of destruction, ironic considering the fate of most of Clark’s work.
Perhaps the haunting beauty of contorted shapes and spaces is the promise for narrative,and ultimately, human connection. We search tirelessly old sites and tombs to see that timeless connection between us and our ancestors, to see our humanity echoed generation through generation. Ruins, for this reason, could almost be seen as universal places of worship. But these places are perhaps disappearing faster than we realize, or more accurately, less future ruins are being produced.
Toronto-based architect Brandon Donnelly, and Canadian/American architect, professor and writer Witold Rybczynski, both commented in architectural blogs on the shortening lifespan of buildings in our day and age.
Concrete, steel, and glass, for all their scale, are a lot less durable than one might imagine. Projects built even 60 years ago require major renovations that can come to be several times more expensive than the original costs at their conception.
Put this next to the impressive basilicas of the renaissance, the pyramids or the temples of Teotihuacan that have lasted for hundreds to thousands of years. Now, it is simply cheaper to knock down ugly buildings that we make for whatever necessary reason. For the community of Englewood, it was urban renewal. In Beauburg, Paris, a facelift was ‘needed’ around the then anticipated Centre Pompidou. And constantly a problem that arises is that there was a lack of foresight. Useless or unneeded structure are built, that have little consideration for local communities and necessities. For example, one only has to look at the many failed housing projects in the US (Pruitt Igoe, Cabrini Green), Chinese ghost cities, or Venezuela’s Mission Vivenda. Perhaps the buildings in question were not the most beautiful or impressive. Perhaps they weren’t the most economically efficient use of space, nor the greatest investment. But perhaps that also speaks of a culture that isn’t building things meant to last. The human element is trampled, again and again.
There are still historical societies remembered through the preservation of their architectural structures today, but is there any concern for the preservation of our present or future structures, or will rebuilding every forthcoming day reach the point where history ceases to exist? And to that, what can be said about us, the tenants of these badly built structures. Are we to remain prisoners of badly constructed homes or should we demand better quality construction meant to foster better social equality?
The CCA is open from Wednesday through Sunday from 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. except Thursdays, during which they are open until 9 p.m. Admission is free for students any day of the week. For more information visit their website.
If you could visually represent feelings of discomfort and worry, what would they look like?
Montreal and Mexico City-based artist Beth Frey illustrates this in her most recent exhibition. The multidisciplinary artist, a Concordia MFA graduate, explores themes of girlhood, the body, social media, and mental health through her sculptures, drawings, and videos.
BOOM BOOM BLOOM DOOM was on view throughout the month of September at Galerie POPOP, in downtown Montreal. The space felt, all at once, organized yet chaotic; offering a visual representation of the conversation that is constantly going on in your head.
Frey approaches the topics through an absurdist perspective. Absurdism, a philosophy that emerged in the 19th century, refers to the human tendency to seek meaning in life, and ultimately, the inability to find any. The use of colorful watercolours－in conjunction with the underlying heavy subject matter－demonstrates the artist’s ironic approach to sociopolitical topics and playful sense of humor.
Frey’s works make references to pop culture by integrating cartoon and comic characters, which offers the viewer a sense of familiarity. The vibrant colours of the works, in contrast with the sketchy outlines and linework, allude to hyperreality.
Lucy Encounters Ego Death (and hopefully finds some sort of inner peace), features a cartoonish rendition of Peanuts character Lucy, quite noticeably in a state of disturbance. The dripping quality of the watercolours indirectly hints to the sense of lack of control that accompanies anxiety, offering the viewer an image of an unpleasant sensation.
Lucy Encounters Ego Death (and hopefully finds some sort of inner peace) – Beth Frey
I’m Not Bashful, You’re Bashful – Beth Frey
Two Strangers Console One Another While the Artist Checks Her Instagram – Beth Frey
The paintings, given titles such as Two Strangers Console One Another While the Artist Checks Her Instagram and I’m Not Bashful, You’re Bashful feel like an internal commentary. They are, all at once, satirical and critical, direct and honest, and similar to the works at the gallery.
Anxiety Library – Beth Frey
Anxiety Library – Close up (right)
Anxiety Library – Close up (left)
The painting Anxiety Library illustrates a table surrounded by figures reading books with names like “Problems Vol. 26” and “Your Impending Death.” People sit among monster-like creatures, some burying their heads within their novels, others screaming. The whirlwind of colours and textures makes the work feel very noisy, as though the viewer can hear all that is going on within the piece.
While each of the pieces has a meaning on their own, collectively they contribute to the artist’s approach of creating works from an absurdist standpoint. They demonstrate a desire to find peace and quiet while simultaneously struggling with an internal search for meaning, and ultimately, battling an impending sense of doom.
Further information about Beth Frey’s work can be found at www.bethfrey.com.
In a time of ecological and economic crises, what significance does material culture hold? Can art play a role beyond aestheticism?
Material culture － the study of objects and the physical space they occupy, including works of art as objects － raises many questions in the art world, including the place artworks hold in defining a cultural history and identity. These questions are a constant topic of conversation among artists, viewers, and curators alike.
Having visited numerous UNESCO sites, historic landmarks, and almost every major city on my solo trip to Morocco in May, I was eager to see what the contemporary art scene was like and how it would compare to that of Montreal.
I had not read anything about the space prior to my visit to the Museum of African Contemporary Art Al Maaden (MACAAL), in Marrakech, Morocco. Nor had I done any research; I had no context as to what I would see or any expectations, for that matter.
The exhibition at the time of my visit, Material Insanity, featured the work of over 30 African artists, both from the continent and its diaspora, including Berlin-based conceptual artist Adrian Piper, and music collective KOKOKO!.
As the title suggests, Material Insanity explores the significance of material culture and commodification and creates a discourse surrounding collective cultural experiences revolving around materiality and visual imagery.
I’ve been thinking about this exhibition a lot since returning from my trip and as I visit many new art shows in and around Montreal. The exhibition and museum, as a whole, creates a space for engaging in a dialogue about the collective and individual experiences of artists throughout the continent, through references to culture, politics, and economics.
The MACAAL creates an environment where artists and viewers can converse about and reflect on issues that pertain to their cultural identity and experiences. I truly felt as though, for the first time, I was visiting a museum that held cultural significance and begged for answers to pertinent questions.
Takadiwa’s work, Washen Again, speaks to the importance of imagery and visual culture while simultaneously playing a pertinent role in an ongoing ecological crisis. Photo by Lorenza Mezzapelle.
Having previously read and written about Moffat Takadiwa, a multi-disciplinary Zimbabwean artist, I was overwhelmed, to say the least, when I saw one of his works featured in the museum.
Takadiwa’s work explores personal and collective histories through the use of recycled and found objects. His visual interpretation of current issues makes a commentary on material culture in conjunction with the economic crisis of his country and community.
Takadiwa’s piece, Washen Again, is composed of toothbrushes and dishwashing soap bottle tops. The large scale sculpture shares similar qualities to an intricate rug; the found objects placed methodically to give the appearance of woven details, alternating in tones of red, green, and beige.
The featured works’ significance speaks to the importance of imagery and visual culture, while simultaneously playing a pertinent role in an ongoing ecological crisis. The act of repurposing found objects that no longer serve a purpose, and breathing new life into them, demonstrates the artistic capabilities of the exhibited artists.
The MACAAL’s creation and development of a dialogue － which at once explores relevant cultural issues and contributes to a continent’s cultural history and international representation － is a component that lacks from most large art institutions.
I cannot think of anything else that fully encompasses being an artist or curator, other than creating artwork with all that one has instead of buying new.
Art is and, for the most part, always has been a feast for the eyes. It is delightful to look at a painting and recognize the emotion in the subject’s facial expression, to experience a multicoloured light show at a concert, and to watch costumes glittering as dancers sway and leap during a performance. But what if you could not see? How does one experience art if they cannot see?
Blindfolds are required throughout the performance and audience members are directed through the performance, through touch, music, and narration.
This is a question that Audrey-Anne Bouchard wants to answer. Bouchard is a multidisciplinary artist, performer, and professor at Concordia and the National Theatre School of Canada. Her latest show camille: un rendez-vous au délà du visuel is currently being presented at Montréal, Arts Interculturels (MAI) in the Plateau.
“I asked myself, what do people who cannot see at all retain from a dance performance or theatre?” said Bouchard. “They were telling me that they are always aware that [they are] missing a part of the show, so I came up with the hope of creating a piece where they wouldn’t be missing anything.”
camille: au délà du visuel, a performance piece which tells the story of a loss of friendship, aims to create an immersive, multi-sensory experience.
“I knew from the very beginning that [the show] was going to be immersive,” said Bouchard. “For me, it meant that the spectator would be immersed in the set of the piece; they would be able to understand through space, touch, sound, and texture, the environment in which it takes place.”
Inspired by her own disability, Bouchard created au délà du visuel, or beyond sight, a project aiming to enable a new audience－one who normally wouldn’t be able to access theatre and dance shows－to experience performance art.
“[The loss of my eyesight] came very progressively,” explained Bouchard, who suffers from Stargardt’s disease. “I started losing sight when I was around 17 but it took several months before they could find out what the origin of the problem was.”
Bouchard, who has always worked within the performing arts, noted that it only occurred to her about 10 years after the fact that her practice is very visual.
“It’s interesting because I created a job for myself where I can work with my eyes closed; I created a context where my disability is not a disability at all,” she said. ‘“I did a lot of research on the visual aspect of theatre and dance and I realized that this is kind of a paradox, that I’m losing sight and working with such a visual discipline.”
This inspired Bouchard to further her research and discover what it is that artists share through their art that does not necessarily have to be shared through sight.
“It was obvious then that the piece had to be immersive,” explained Bouchard. “To share with people, I need to be close with my performers.”
camille: au délà du visuel allows for the spectator to be fully immersed in the set, alongside the performers. Blindfolds are required for those without any visual impairments and audience members are directed through the performance, through touch, music, and narration.
“We also welcome people who have different kinds of disabilities,” said Bouchard. “We can guide you through a show if you’re in a wheelchair.”
Bouchard noted that the distance between the stage and the audience is what makes performance art very visual, by default.
“If we eliminate that distance then we have access to all of [the spectators’] tools,” she explained. “[We had to find out] how can you share the performance of an actor when you don’t see him.”
The development of the project took over three years and was very theoretical. “We created a new creative process methodology with this project,” Bouchard said. Through working with people who are visually-impaired and through research, Bouchard created a new way to work.
“To share with people, I need to be close with my performers,” explained Bouchard.
This new process methodology inspired Bouchard and the team of performers and artists she works with to develop a series of workshops.
“We designed a workshop to teach students or other artists how to work that way,” Bouchard said. “I think that now we have to keep working and creating work altogether for an audience living with visual disabilities and other disabilities that we would like to address as well.” Bouchard’s workshops, which will be both interactive and theoretical, are in the works and will be further developed over the course of the upcoming year.
“I see a desire from the arts consult to encourage more accessibility […] to all kinds of audiences who don’t normally have access to the arts,” said Bouchard. “It is becoming more and more present, and it’s changing. I’m benefiting from it, but I’m also hoping to help make it happen in the future; I hope that my work is also a great example of how the creative process that we use everyday works, but that there are so many other ways to create art that can be explored.”
camille: un rendez-vous au délà du visuel is being presented until Sept. 22, at Montréal, arts interculturels, at 3680 Jeanne-Mance St., suite 103. Further details regarding showtimes can be found atwww.m-a-i.qc.ca
Artists explore vulnerability and gentleness through their respective practices
The right-hand wall of the VAV Gallery is plastered in various mementos; post-it notes, handwritten letters, and novel excerpts. Observing Joshua Jensen’s work, With Love, has the viewer taking a peek at someone’s private life, leaving them with a certain warmth, or as the exhibition title suggests, tenderness.
Joshua Jensen’s With Love welcomes viewers into the gallery, and someone’s private life
What does it mean to feel tender? The VAV Gallery’s first exhibition of 2019, i feel tender, features the works of ten undergraduate artists exploring tenderness in a variety of ways. The exhibition’s curatorial statement reads, “it requires something specific… Some sort of warmth? Maybe it’s the artists’ approach, or the feeling that arises from encountering their work?” While the works are not assembled by a common theme, they all share a particular physicality.
With little given context, other than the notion of tenderness, the materiality of the works impacts the relationship between art and viewer. Ranging from sculpture to multimedia installation, the artworks engage the senses and lead the
viewer to find the projected “tenderness” in the pieces exhibited.
Sodic Bodies, Jacqueline Beaumont
“I’ve been told by viewers that the piece made them ponder why they are looking at such a sensitive moment, especially that of a body in a bag. So I think that of course, the viewer’s experience develops their perception of the work,” said Jacqueline Beaumont, whose piece, Sodic Bodies serves as a memorial for trans women.
While all artwork is certain to evoke a reaction, the experience of the viewer will greatly differ from that of the artist.
“Each viewer will have their own experience, depending on their own knowledge and understanding of the process of ceramic art, their knowledge of the history of painting and sculpture, and countless other things that they may know or think of when they see the pieces,” said Markus Denil. Putti, created by Denil, consists of fragile ceramic putti, which are cherub-like figures. The work explores toxic masculinity through juxtaposition; the fragile putti each wear leather harnesses.
One of many Putti, Markus Denil
Despite the artwork and its meaning being entrenched in its physicality, the viewer’s interaction and interpretation of the piece will constantly change; the materiality serving as a means of understanding. “As we gain more information we are able to interpret the situations we are presented with,” said Denil.
i feel tender demonstrates how objects, art and their materiality embody experiences, ideas and beliefs. “I think the feeling of tenderness mainly came from the subject, that being letter writing and long distance relationships,” said Joshua Jensen, whose work, With Love, delves into memory, distance and the documentation of life. “Through this reappropriation of imagery I create a sphere of ambiguity to project my own experiences in relation to memory,” the artist said.
Denil’s innocent Putti wearing harnesses and Jensen’s mementos both provide the viewer with very different representations and experiences. The works exhibited provide a physical understanding of “tenderness” and, through juxtaposition, reframe what the viewer perceives it to be.
i feel tender is on display at the VAV Gallery until Feb. 1. The gallery is open Monday to Friday from 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. The vernissage will be held at 6 p.m. on Jan. 31. Admission is free.
