View on Canadian Art

I was in New York last weekend, to see friends but also to see the Maurizio Cattelan retrospective the day before it closed. It has gotten quite a bit of attention for its unusual installation. The work was hung entirely from the ceiling, down the central atrium, with absolutely nothing on the walls of the notoriously difficult gallery. It transformed Frank Lloyd Wright’s museum into a theatre, which made strangely perfect sense.

The viewer/audience on the ramp, looking into the atrium. All images: VoCA. Click images to enlarge.


The atrium, filled with works hung from a metal scaffold. Click images to enlarge.

The show had been hailed as a must-see by art critic friends of mine, but also panned by Peter Schjeldahl in the New Yorker.

The view from above. Click images to enlarge.

Untitled, 2007. Click images to enlarge.

My first impression was one of awe. It was amazing to see the work all suspended, particularly since some pieces were huge. Cattelan’s famous sculpture of a life-size horse coming out of a wall backwards was there, complete with a small piece of wall, for full effect.

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Him, 2001. Click images to enlarge.

In all, it was messy and certainly didn’t do the work any favours. It was also dark – that day, snow had accumulated on the gallery’s skylight. I had seen numerous pieces over the years properly installed – sometimes brilliantly curated, as with Him, the kneeling Hitler at the Ydessa Hendeles Art Foundation in Toronto a few years ago. Then there was the Pope being hit by a meteorite at the Royal Academy’s notorious Apocalypse show in London in 2000; the miniature Cattelan on a tricycle that was exhibited roaming the Giardini of the Venice Biennale in 2003 and Turisti, an early work consisting of many taxidermy pigeons that was installed on rafters above the gallery-goers, also at Venice. And on and on.

Untitled, 2009. Click images to enlarge.

Turisti (Tourists), 1997. Click images to enlarge.

The jumble of work, none of which you could really get a proper look at, reminded me of the visual information that is coming at us from all directions through tv, print, advertising, art and the internet. There’s too much and either you have to select what to focus on or be overwhelmed. It was the same here.

Frustratingly, the accompanying guide, which claims to feature a diagram showing each work in the exhibition, does not in fact show every work. Key pieces are left out.

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Charlie, 2003. Click images to enlarge.

Untitled, 1997. Click images to enlarge.

Now, 2004. Click images to enlarge.

I also found it brave of Cattelan to risk his work being seen as junk. He must have been sure that the curatorial concept would overshadow the works themselves, but as Schejdahl points out, many of the pieces depend on proper curating to give them their strength. Some of his works are truly unforgettable. But not here. The art is actually rather forgettable here. I’m not sure I would have enjoyed the show had I not been already quite familiar with it.

La Nona Ora, 1999. Click images to enlarge.

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Novecento, 1997. Click images to enlarge.

But at the end of the day, it was an intriguing concept for a difficult space, and it did create a witty, double-take inducing, rather grand spectacle, which is what Cattelan is all about, and which both audiences and institutions seem to love.

There’s all kinds of art out there.

One of the things that I find so exciting and inspiring about my new project ARTBOMB is seeing art by such varied artists, from the not-so-art-educated to the very highly educated. There is an enormous range of work, which is what makes art (as a language) so incredible and potentially mind-opening.

All work by Erika Stanley at Galeria Valanti. All images: VoCA

Another thing that achieves this is travel. Seeing art being made in other locations, with other influences for other markets is often inspiring. This was definitely the case years ago when I first saw contemporary Chinese art for instance. And again when recently in Costa Rica, where I was introduced to the Galeria Valanti.

Much of the South American art that I’ve seen tends to have lots of bright colours, but I have to admit (though it’s not my personal taste) I’ve never seen anything quite like the work by Belgium based, Costa Rican artist Erika Stanley.

These wall sculptures incorporate musical instruments, that can be removed from the work and played. She also uses her own clothes to form the backdrop to the instruments. I’m not sure how she does it, perhaps with plaster, but using the clothes hanger is a neat way of resolving how to hang the work too.

It’s an interesting idea, no? I have done critiques at universities where I can tell young painters are having trouble taking their painting further, making it more interesting. This, to my mind, is how one artist has very successfully done just that.

The other day, I visited artist Paulette Phillips at her home in Toronto, to be interviewed for her upcoming artwork. Called The Directed Lie, it involved being put to the test – the lie detector test.

Me with Paulette Phillips, undergoing the polygraph. All images: Scott Barker/VoCA

Phillips has trained as a professional polygraph technician in the United States, and owns a polygraph machine, which is cleverly disguised as a suitcase, but it’s the real deal. I don’t know why, but I surprised that it was such an authentic experience, complete with blood pressure and respiration monitors, and carefully considered questions.

The work, which has been shown in Paris (from Parisian interviews) at Galerie Chomette this past fall, included a video installation, prints and sculpture. A larger version will be shown in Toronto this February at Diaz Contemporary.

“For the exhibition at Diaz I will be showing all the interviews I have done in all 8 cities to date,” says Phillips. “The video installation includes books of each city…(it’s) like a legend. From the book you choose an interview you wish to watch by choosing a number that corresponds with a photograph in the book. You key the number into a keypad and a two channel video is projected onto the wall. The show includes sculpture and prints and the archive of charts that are drawn by the polygraph.”

Phillips sees this work as portraiture. It’s a portrait of a person’s subconscious reactions and the discrepancy between that reaction and the person’s face. It’s a portrait of the face as a mask.

It’s interesting to consider the concept of ‘truth’, in light of this work. It makes you consider how important it is to respect other ideas of truth whenever possible. One’s truth is so personal to oneself – it’s entirely subjective – and is informed by so many things: personal history and experience, morality, how we want to be perceived, etc.

Though I found the concept really quite fascinating, I did wonder if the questions could have gone further. Some questions, like “Have you ever been involved with someone who was in a relationship?” would be more challenging for some than they were for me. Had she asked even more challenging questions, “Have you ever bullied anyone?” or “Have you ever masturbated?” – I think it would have had the effect of bringing the participant face to face with his or her real self.

That’s the true power of art, and it’s profound.

But thinking about it, perhaps one reason why the questions didn’t go farther was because of Phillips’ own involvement and friendship with many of the participants. She seemed quite aware of the implications of such a test and perhaps was reluctant to find out too many things that she didn’t really want to know about people. But still.

A quick note to say that I feel sort of vindicated. Back in March 2010, I wrote THIS post predicting the rise of International Klein Blue – that fabulous deep blue invented and patented by the late, great artist Yves Klein.

Yves Klein, Petite Vénus Bleue, 1956 Image: canalblog.com

And so it went…that bright blue was suddenly everywhere from J.Crew catalogues to Uma Thurman at the Oscars. It even showed up in a stunning piece at the AGO retrospective of General Idea.

General Idea, XXX (bleu) (installation view) 1984 3 acrylic on canvases, 3 poodles. Image: theglobeandmail.com

And now, Newsweek/Daily Beast art critic Blake Gopnik has singled it out at the recent Art Basel Miami Beach:

“The booth had a classic all-blue Yves Klein, from 1960, that I could not live without. It had been inscribed as a gift from Klein to Antonio Saura, the Spanish painter, and was signed and dated and had had few owners. Klein is undergoing a massive reevaluation these days: Instead of being seen as a consummate colorist, his role as godfather of conceptualism is at last being noticed. The picture was a steal at $1.4 million.”

Uma Thurman,looking stunning at the Oscars. Image: stylenik.com

Did you know that you can buy the paint – Yves Klein patented the colour – in Switzerland? It’s not cheap. But it’s beyond any other colour you will paint with – in fact the only colours that can possibly accompany it are white, or gold leaf. As he knew very well, IKB and gold is a heavenly combination.

I’d love to meet the guy who ordered the IKB bespoke suit.

Read Gopnik’s full article on ABMB, HERE.

I visited artist Josh Malcolm in his studio this afternoon. His large oils on canvas were everywhere, and I found them very intriguing. They are very high energy – Malcolm says he’s inspired by European and American expressionist painting. But they’re quite different, and quite challenging. At first glance, they looked, to me very modern…but sort of unfinished.

In the studio. All images: VoCA

Cartoon limbs stuck out everywhere in an homage to Phillip Guston, and there are raw, stripey brushstrokes at funny angles across many canvases. I was struck by one piece in particular. It was a black painting, with several arms tangled up and a large swipe of paint crudely smeared across the bottom of the canvas and what looks to be a palette knife a the far side. It make me think of a fist fight.  More precisely, it seemed as if the artist was fighting with himself.

More paintings.

A work that looks – to me – like a fistfight.

Art is a language that doesn’t always come easily. For many artists throughout history making a successful painting was (and is still is) like an internal fight.

Once I looked at the work that way, I immediately liked it. I began to appreciate was he was doing, and I began to see much more in the work, like the background figures that started to emerge from negative space, set at oddly quirky angles and humorous details like stripey socks or a razor sharp manicure.

Josh Malcolm in his studio.

I couldn’t help but be inspired by how modern these works seemed. It’s amazing how an artist can decide to just run a stripe of paint across a canvas, for no apparent reason, and know that it needs to be there.

An unfinished work.

A quote that Josh Malcolm has on his Facebook page explains a lot about what he’s going for:

“After all what are most painters interested in? In Life.

All artists are lovers, they’re lovers of life, they want to see

how they can set the trap so that life will come over more

vividly and more violently. And how do they do that?

Let us reason, why would one paint for oneself? Not to say

how clever  I am, but how can I trap this transient thing.”

-Francis Bacon

Three finished works.

A close up of one work, showing a figure from above,  looking down.

Another unfinished work.

The palette table.

The artist with an older work.

Read a bit more about Josh Malcolm HERE.

Hi everyone,

Wow – great response to THIS article in today’s Toronto Star!

To subscribe to ARTBOMB please go HERE. and click ‘SUBSCRIBE’ at the bottom of the page.

Artists – to submit your work, please email carsonandrea@hotmail.com with a link to your website or low res images and ‘artbomb’ in the subject line. Toronto artists only (for now) please. More info HERE.

Thanks!

AC

I went to see the new show at the Museum of Contemporary Canadian Art the other day.

I discovered that since they have begun collaborating with the National Gallery of Canada, they no longer allow dogs inside, which was an unfortunate discovery for Hudson, who was with me.

Faith La Rocque, Crystal Ladder, 2011. All images: VoCA

Anyway, I found the work on view to be fresh and exciting! When all of a sudden you see work like this you realize something special is going on. There’s an energy here that I haven’t seen in the city for some time. Bravo to curator Camilla Singh for bringing it all together.

Faith La Rocque, Salt Ramp with Celestial Children, 2011.

Having said that, I found something amiss in the curating. I couldn’t reconcile the grouping of work with the show’s title. I asked for some reading material, but was told that it was all available online. It was only later, when I read the somewhat awkward exhibition text that I realized that I think the title for the show is wrong.

Faith La Rocque, Salt Ramp with Celestial Children, 2011.

There’s a phrase in the text that resonated much more with me than the title ‘Ineffable Plasticity: The Experience of Being Human‘ It’s this: “The life force that animates us” and I think I would have called the show ‘Life Force’ with some kind of subtitle. The work seems to speak more to a Life Force; it doesn’t put such a fine point on it and I feel that it works better with the art. But that’s just me.

Sherri Hay, What dream became amongst our accumulated daylight, 2011

Susy Oliveira, Nature Stoned, 2011.

In any case, I do recommend the show. There is some wonderful work there, most particularly the terracotta sculpture installation by Jordan MacLachlan and the paintings by Anders Onionen.

It’s on until December 31, 2011 and you don’t want to miss it.

Mat Brown, All Within the Circle of Willis.

Mat Brown, All Within the Circle of Willis.

Mat Brown, All Within the Circle of Willis. Intallation view

Susy Oliveira, Petal Piece, 2011.

Jordan MacLachlan, Unexpected Subway Living, 2010-2011.

Jordan MacLachlan, Unexpected Subway Living, detail, 2010-2011.

Jordan MacLachlan, Unexpected Subway Living, detail, 2010-2011.

Anders Onionen, Noseum, 2011.

Anders Onionen, installation view.

The other day, I stopped in at the studio of Toronto artist Francisco Gomez.

A detail from Empire of Dust, Macca, 2009. All images: VoCA

Born in Caracas Venezuela, he moved to Canada in 1991 and studied at OCAD. Gomez generally works in ink and pastel on mylar – an unusual combination that Gomez tells me is difficult, since the pastel resists the mylar after a certain point, but it’s a very clean, effective look. I can see why he likes it.

A detail from Empire of Dust, Macca, 2009.

You can find his work at Art Interiors, where there are a number of floral works, but the large scale animal paintings that he brought out in his studio are from the series Empire of Dust and are much, much more interesting, to my eye.

Empire of Dust, Macca, 2009.

They are wonderfully drawn & painted, quite magnificent, gothic works of (mostly) tropical beasts and flora inspired by literary influences including Dante’s Inferno, Milton’s Paradise Lost, Ovid’s Metamorphosis and Schopenhauer’s On the Suffering of the World.

More works from the series Empire of Dust.

Artist Francisco Gomez with the works. Here you can see how large they are.

Other works including from the series Architecture of Being.

The studio wall.

Some inspiration for the burning fire works Gomez is currently working on.

The other week I dropped in to see one of my new favorite galleries, General Hardware Contemporary, in Parkdale. Not only was owner Niki Dracos super friendly, happily accompanying me in my rush around the gallery (I was late for a talk at Art Toronto) but I was really impressed by the work.

Paintings by Anahita Rezvani-Rad. All images: VoCA

R.M. Vaughn is right, in his Globe and Mail review, that we don’t see these kinds of shows often enough in Toronto and when we do, it’s with relief to those of us who deplore the art scene’s typical back-patting. As Vaughn points out, what makes it so vital is that it is work “seen through the eyes of artists experiencing displacement (internal or geographic) from their homelands.”

Below is a photo essay of some of the best works in the show, in my opinion. Click HERE to read an essay by curator/artist Matthew Carver. And hurry if you want to see it – it closes Saturday, November 12.

These small paintings by Anahita Rezvani-Rad are simple enough, but their subject matter (Iran’s green revolution) together with their presentation in a kind of film strip perfectly alludes to the media through which we receive the images. All of which is at odds with the precision with which they are painted.

Maggot Paintings by Christian Gozenbach.

A detail.

Would you believe me if I told you that the beautiful paintings above – Christian Gozenbach‘s Maggot Paintings – are made by dipping live maggots in ink and having them drag themselves around – slowly dying, presumably apparently the ink does not hurt them – inside a sort of fenced in area on the paper, created by the artist to resemble a Rorschach ink blot? These works are harsh, and brilliant.

Josephine Turalba, Manhattan Reloaded – Red Bullet Dress

A detail.

This traditional Phillipine-style  dress by Phillipine artist Turalba is made from bullet casings. The artist’s father was apparently violently killed, which may have been the reason for her use of the medium, but if you look closely you can see small falling men cut out from the centre of the garment, reminding us, of course of the famous image of a body falling from the World Trade Centre on September 11, 2001. And of the relationships between (and effects on) both victims and perpetrators of violence.

Christian Gozenbach, A Hunter’s Collection, Sony, 2005, 24×30 in.

A close up.

Sophie Baker, A Long Time Ago/and Later Still, 2011, oil on canvas, 48×59 in.

One of Canada’s most important collections of vintage and modern photography will go on view at the University of Toronto Art Centre in the new year.

Peter Henry Emerson. A Stiff Pull, ca. 1886, photomechanical process, photogravure. Image:utac.utoronto.ca

The Malcolmson Collection, which I can tell you is a spectacular, very special selection of rare photographs,  is comprised of work dating from the mid-nineteenth century to the present and includes work by Gustave Le Gray, Eugene Atget, Man Ray and many others.

A Man Ray photograph from the Malcolmson Collection. Image:meandmymamiya.com

The exhibition, which will feature selections from the collection, is curated by Heather Diack to examine the relationships “that are created between individuals and photographs and between individuals within photographs.”

On top of that, it’s good to think about the earliest days of photography, long before digital processes and consider all that was involved for these artists to capture an image. There was a connection to the experience and an artistry that we just don’t see as much anymore. It’s as if they were in awe of their subject, and I guess they were. Today technology allows us to dominate nature – you can see it everywhere in contemporary art. I wonder what the effects of this will be. What would McLuhan say?

In any case, this should certainly be a show worth seeing. More information is HERE.