Language is unavoidable, how
obvious… but this week it is particularly so, and seems to be a deliberate
theme in Windsor art-academia. Of course I am speaking of BookFest 2012, which
for the most part I am not attending due to a viral upper respiratory malfunction.
Nonetheless, there was the Messagio Galore take XII performance. During the
BookFest panel discussion “WORD to IMAGE” at Artcite Inc., with Amin Rehman’s exhibition "A
is for…" as a backdrop, Alana
Bartol performed as “Slow News”, which was a gesture in the slowing down the flow of
news headlines to the bodily speed of handwriting and
listening through a tin can. The one ten park windows are adorned with new
installations. Doubtless, I am missing something... only reiterating what has
been directly at hand, of late. Does this mean I am lazy?
I must say I was disappointed in
the panel discussion, though it was a worthy effort. I find that such
structured public discussions, in general, only gloss over the surface of the
proposed topics.It takes an hour to
state the platform, to situate the “kinds” of things that everyone has
assembled to discuss. After this, just as a discussion begins to unravel, the
time limit has lapsed, the audience disseminates.
Perhaps to insinuate a “kind” of
thought is the point, and I am taking it for granted because digging,
unfolding, rearranging, is a second-nature habit for me (though fleeting and
often ineffable, especially linguistically) and might not be for others. This
disappointment I speak of, is not necessarily a criticism, because I myself also
love to generalize, and I also love failure. I have acquired two
degrees by intuitively skimming through books, dropping names, referencing
ideas that I am drawn to but have no thorough understanding of. For this I was rewarded with scholarships,
good grades, praise. I get rewarded for misunderstanding? I only sense I
understand something-or-other, approximately, maybe… but then again, my learned
trade isn’t all text, it is mostly doing, thinking, responding, taking,
throwing away… battling with time and matter.
Or, perhaps this aforementioned
disappointment speaks to the innate difficulty of language itself, its limits,
its incestuous self-love… Even for academics and poets, who devote their lives
to the activity (with the exception of bodily and emotional priorities: their
self-love), it is difficult to articulate and extricate ideas. People are quite powerless to language. The mechanical
mental investment that is required to make something that is beyond the self,
and beyond the word, into something communicable to a group of people - is
immense.
Also there is the decision of
whether or not to begin the investment at all… What’s the use? Failure is
certain (or at least as certain as anything can be). What’s next? Such is the labor
of naming, of negotiating between the realm of inner self-awareness/intuition/enlightenment
and the realm of collective facts/known systems/languages. In my unreliable opinion, the two realms are actually
interchangeable, like an equation, and behave accordingly. Hence the reluctance,
or rather the inability to… what, say what you mean? The moment a word escapes,
it is on the other side of the equation, referencing nothing but itself,
equating with its own reflection.[I
don’t quite know what I’m talking about anymore… Do I sound convincing enough?
Do I get an A?]
But I sense this is not unlike the self-referential nature
of painting, of images.
Amin Rehman’s
exhibition A is for… at Artcite
Inc.(October
19 – November 17, 2012) is a fitting example.This kind of equated duality and conflict can be seen in the embodiment
of the juxtaposition of conflicting phrases.The sets of phrases, as narratives, reference a kind of battle – with/in
history, with/in meaning (what history? what meaning?).
“we
just see more of the
you
have
same
yet we continue
the
watches
to
do the same
we
have
why
should not we leave
the
time
they
continue making
the
case for staying”
Or:
“there
is no intuitive
when
the head
certainty
until you
is
rotten
burn;
if you desire
it
affects
this
certainty
the
whole body
sit
down on the fire”
[above
are transcriptions of two vinyl lettering pieces, not true to font, appearance,
or function.]
Amin Remin, from A is for... (Image courtesy of Artcite Inc.) [more here]
Amin Remin, from A is for... (Image courtesy of Artcite Inc.) [more here]
The works in this
exhibition, although of different media (vinyl lettering, neon sign, encaustic
painting, and crisp sculptural plastic letters), generally function in the same
way. The words, the letters, the meaning of the phrases, is transformed
throughout the process of reading.There
is a point in reading the work where it makes no sense, the physicality of what
the letters are made of takes over, just as you realize the collision of
meanings, a kind of unrecognition where “everything” falls apart... time
without past or future, the “=” sign.In
my experience this psychosis lasts only for a split moment, due to the
systems of language - including social composure (the wearing of clothes, keeping
oneself upright, etc.).Maintaining a
norm includes this automatic evaluation of whether or not something is worth
emitting an emotional response for (emotional responses also have a language)…
And most things around us generally are defined as not worth the trouble of
feeling. This is taught to us since infanthood, in order to survive through
society, to learn how to function, and it becomes instinctive, natural. At the
moment when something that's intrinsic to this constructed system falls apart, we
immediately and unwillingly identify as a computational malfunction, and
language glazes over. Need I elaborate on the value of computational
malfunctions? I am not sure if I can, and I feel at this time that this is not the
place.
Like
the aforementioned panel discussion, this blog post too follows certain time
limits, social constraints, and personal insecurities. I am even wondering if this is worth posting
at all… Well, what the hell, I’ve invested enough time typing this up, even if
it says nothing.
Stills from Messagio Galore: Take XII performance. (jwcurry, performing his score)
Sitting
in the second row, twice I felt a droplet of spittle extend its utterance to my
belated chin.
No
written text can communicate the ferment which occurred on the evening of
Sunday October 21, 2012 at Common Ground Gallery.This was a
highly under-attended, singular performance.The quartet QUATUOR GUALUOR (jwcurry, Alastair Larwill, Georgia
Mathewson, Brian Pirie)traveled to
Windsor from Ottawa and said, sang, yelped, mimicked, acted, danced twenty-nine
poems/compositions/renditions, ranging from Kurt Schwitters to Frank Zappa tojwcurry himself.
There
aren’t enough entries in Thesaurus for “sound” to communicate the swell of
vibratory flux, flexing and shape-shifting upon the cochlea.How incommunicable I feel, with Thesaurus
dangling from the keyboard keys. Language cracked and putrefied and I am still
picking up the eggshells.My own poetic
trials are dwarfed in comparison, should I resolve to desist?
[Film documentation unavailable at this time.]
The Messagio Galore: take XII program (cover).
The Messagio Galore: take XII program
The Messagio Galore: take XII program
The Messagio Galore: take XII program
QUATUOR GUALUOR, performing their scores. (L2R: Georgia Mathewson, jwcurry, Alastair Larwill, Brian Pirie)
Among the audience were jwcurry’s UNWANTEDS and their
handwritten dilapidated tales.Usually
existing as nomadic graffiti personalities on other people’s places, this is
the first time these “prints” have ever been shown in a gallery setting holding
their own ground, together with their biographies.Their derelict contortions appease, amuse,
and astonish, and their painted life span will be murdered with paint kill on
Halloween (of course), the erasure being not unlike the cycles of graffiti markings
in the outer world.
These
characters have set up a set of circumstances, following linguistic rules with
handwritten familiarity, witty additives, and a glaze of syntax we all know and love.The sound poetry performance, in this
context, shifted and shuffled everything in its site, like a ventilating collage in
phona-scapes (at least for those who were there)…
Installation in progress. jwcurry preparing his stencils.
UNWANTED's stencils (only 1 stencil per image!). Installation in progress.
jwcurry, printing the UNWANTED's onto Common Ground walls.
external view of one ten park, with Oct.2-22 2012 window installations by Collette Broeders and Susan Gold. Image courtesy of Susan Gold.
On Friday September 21, 2012, one ten park: a working space(110 Park St. W.) held an opening
reception for a brand new studio space in the core of downtown Windsor. The
space is hosted by four local artists, who are all of different age groups,
backgrounds, and methods of working. They are Alana Bartol, Collette Broeders,
Susan Gold, and Arturo Herrera.
Currently on view in theone
ten park windows are Collette Broeders’ “Synchronicity No. 5”, which is a drawing that came as a result of
meditative performative gestures,and
Susan Gold’s “Persistence of
Insincerity 2010 -2012”, which questions the gloss of appearances and
authenticity.The two
works are installed October 2 – 22.The
subsequent installation will reflect discourse on the existence and function of
literature, as it will be in concurrence with the annual BookFest Windsor (October 25 -27).
view from the entrance. Susan Gold's (foreground) and Arturo Herrera's (background) spaces.
Each artist has an area sanctioned for the pursuit of their
own experiments, procedures, and assembly, making the entire space a testing
ground for ideas prior to distribution into the world. There are no walls
separating the work areas, making it feel homogenous, yet each artist’s zone
has its own distinctive ambiance.
While Arturo Herrera’s space is riddled with paint
paraphernalia, photographs, props, lighting equipment, and hat contraptions,
Alana Bartol’s mannequin guards her collections of nature-stuffs, among
pinned-up reference materials, books, and a grassy Ghillie suit beside the
photographic aftermaths of its performance.While Susan Gold’s area is decorated with reproductions of flora and
fauna, clad with an artifice of herbaria wallpaper, Collette Broeders’ space
has a transcendent methodical aura, intending on form, mapping, and
placement.In between, the lines begin
to blur.Is this a communal garbage can?
Whose box is this? Whose bag is that?
Arturo Herrera's space.
I approached the ‘group’ with a few matters of curiosity, as
follows. [Alana and Collette were
unfortunately not in the position of leisure to indulge my curiosity at this
time.]
Sasha Opeiko: Someone
asked me recently if one ten park is
an artist collective. My response was that you are not a collective, but
individual artists simply sharing a space.Was that a reasonable response, and how do you feel about the
possibility of that kind of confusion occurring in the future, in relation to
your own practice?
Arturo Herrera: We
have been called different names ever since we got together. The most popular
is a gallery. I don't think I feel influenced in this respect by the public.
Susan Gold:Yes, we are four artists sharing studio
space. But one ten park is more than a business arrangement and is a
developing concept. But right from the beginning we noticed shared needs and
desires among us. We all needed dedicated studio space to develop our art
practice. We all liked the idea of being on street level in the downtown core.
All of us have affinities in our practice to installation work,
process, and community arts. (None of us could afford the space by
ourselves.)
SO: On a similar
note – what kind of changes, if any, have you noticed in your creative
processes now that you are sharing a workspace? Is this the kind of shared work
environment you’ve encountered time and time again in the past, or is this a
brand new venture for you? What is so particular about this specific conglomeration
of people and ideas?
AH: Having
just earned my BFA, I really enjoyed working in a room with others. The shared
space I think is more a convenience than wanting to share. I mean, I do
enjoy being with others, but I think we all got together for many reasons; and
one important one was that we couldn't afford the space by ourselves.
SG:We also have noticed
skill sets among us that move us along in exciting ways. It seems one ten
park has a life of its own and we are all part of it.
Changes
in creative process are notable. First there is always the influence of
the space and particular possibilities of the space that inform my work
immediately. I am normally influenced by the potentials of the space and
architectural details of the space. The high walls are number one. The window
possibilities. The light from the windows. The cornices and funky wallpaper and
framing on one of my walls. The skills and ideas of others working in the room.
The space and situation has and will undoubtedly influence and stimulate my
work.
Susan Gold's space.
SO: It is evident
that the four of you feel more connected to the general public in this space.
It is a prime location, lots of foot traffic… Although you have individual work areas, there
are no walls or barriers physically portioning off your space. What is the role
of privacy in your work, and do you ever feel, in this new space, that you are
lacking your own walls?
AH:I
think all depends: at the beginning I was worried about stepping onto others
space when I work with my photo shoots or with models... I require lots of
walking space. But as we got to know each other the invisible walls
disappeared.
SG:Loving the space and not
dividing it with walls was one thing that we immediately agreed on. But
the need for some working space and storage space we could call our own was
arranged easily. We also know that we couldn’t actually work in a showcase or a
store. So one ten park is not a gallery but rather a working space. Loving
the windows! And immediately wanting to install work in them was another thing
that was immediate!
We
then had to make decisions on the clean up, the painting, miscellaneous
purchases, announcements and signage - down to the font and punctuation. Some
of these decisions were made easily. Some took scores of emails – but reaching
consensus is not a quick and easy process. We kind of enjoy working through
everyone’s comments.
SO: (to SG)
I suspect such negotiations aid in the makeshift definition of personal boundaries
as well.Making known and extending your
comfort zone/desires for the health of immediate neighbourhood and coexistence,
perhaps allows for overlaps and intersections with others, which allow for
a kind of partial immersion in the comfort zones/desires of your
neighbours.You speak of negotiating
practical matters, such as signage and purchases, but such mundane necessity is
part of creative discourse as well.They
are nonetheless physical points of connection between one person and another
(eye contact, fingertip nexus of digital correspondence, time invested in
acknowledging mundane questions), without which other, more creatively profound
connections would not be very probable.That is my own intuitive tangent from what I think you are talking about,
when you mention the enjoyment of working through everyone’s comments….
However, returning to the related topic of privacy, and perhaps the necessity
or unavoidability of private experience…
There is a Boris Groys essay titled “The Loneliness of the
Project”, which discusses ideas around the insistence on project-based art
practices (the proposal toward an end, and allotted times to achieve that
end).One detail of this essay
references the tendency for creators to isolate themselves, once they have
secured the funding or support to complete a project, such as an exhibition or
a residency.This kind of isolation is necessary
and socially acceptable, because without investing every waking moment toward
the project and temporarily suspending obligations to friends, family, and
other activities, the project – deemed as a worthy effort for society – would
not be realized.How do you respond to
this line of thought? Do you yourself function on a project basis?Does one
ten park allow you to feel less isolated during the rigorous time of
production?
Alana Bartol's space, from Collette's vantage point.
SG:Role of privacy. For me that remains to be
known. I have never worked in a studio situation with other artists. But my
husband and I have always shared studio space successfully. I know I need total
privacy at some times to be completely absorbed, alone with my thoughts,
and not self conscious of external judgment – I guess that is what I would mean
by “free”. But I find myself alone in the space often and I think I will come
to feel alone – with the others – to have the situation work successfully for
me. On the other hand, I have always found it productive to work off the
productivity and energy of others working. And that is definitely happening at one
ten park. So there you have a productive contradiction. And there are many
in creative work!
So
although this space represents different things in each of our practices, there
are things in common that are making this an exciting project.
AH:
Previously I was in a different studio space up the street,
and it was a 200 square feet room with a large window. I felt too isolated, I
felt desperately in finding a new space as soon as possible. But I think it
depends on the project you are working on. Isolation is good for painting.
SO:Ditto.As an aside to the previous question, what is the rhythm of the studio
like, now that you have more or less settled in the space?
Collette Broeder's space
AH: Hmmm, at first I wanted to keep track of who was coming in
or out just so I didn't interfere on anybody. But then I just didn't care. As a
matter of fact I am thinking I would like to build the traditional studio walls
that photographers used to use in the early 1900s so light would not come in
inside the studio... Like a laberinto!
SO:Have you connected with any other shared
studio spaces in the Windsor area?And
if not, is that a possibility you would be interested in and for what
reason?Do you intend to form or
maintain relationships with other arts organizations in the area (who)?
AH: Yes, but so far I don't think we have socialized too much.
Just recently we had a walking tour during Artcite's summer art festival.
SG: We of course love being
connected to the “general public”, downtown street life and especially to our
immediate neighbours: Artcite Inc., Broken City Lab, Print House, Workers
Action Centre. We have no immediate plans for formal collaboration but
informally we are already linked into possibilities for downtown cultural
developments.
SO:Lastly, what are you working on now?
SG:What am I working on now? I am developing installation
material and possibilities for a project, Decorating
the End of the World. The work is a little divided between my Nobel
studio, one ten park and my work
space at home. But I am gradually pulling it together for the May 2013
exhibition at the Mackintosh. There are several exhibitions I am involved in in
2013 and 2014 so the work is not isolated to one exhibition but is developing
organically (and undirected) as well. I am traveling to Norway in October to
gather additional material for future work.
Arturo Herrera is currently preparing for a wearable art
exhibition (STRUTT, Nov. 3 2012) at Niagara Artists Centre.During my last visit a few days ago, he showed me
that he has started a new project, sculpting enlarged peppercorns (approx. 1”
diameter) out of clay, organically responding to these creations and pondering
on what to do with them once he has a quantity.
Copyright Alana Bartol. Photo credit Arturo Herrera.
Alana Bartol: will be doing a Skills for Goods workshop on Tuesday, October 30th at 7:00 at
Broken City Lab (411 Pelissier St.) on how to create your own ghillie suit. (visit
www.brokencitylab.orgor www.civicspace.info/for more information)
"Forms ofAwareness: Ghillie Suit, is a series that reveals and examines the
prevailing set of aesthetic and environmental concerns in North American
suburban communities… Through public walks and "un-camouflagings" in
city and suburban streets, parks, fields, suburban neighbourhoods, new housing
developments and naturalized spaces in urban areas, Ghillie inspires many
reactions including fear, awe, confusion, anger, wonder and laughter… The
ghillie suit is traditionally used by military snipers and hunters to
camouflage the human body, allowing the wearer to blend into various 'natural'
landscapes such as woods, prairies and swamplands. As Ghillie, I investigate
the shape shifting abilities of the human body… while also questioning our
assumptions about gender.”
Collette Broeders:"What I'm currently working on. Although I have many sort of ongoing projects, my main focus has been
performative drawings such as the one you see currently at the one ten
windows. A little about the work follows.
The series of Synchronicity drawings
investigate symmetrical, repetitive motion using my body as an instrument to
form a rhythmic pattern of line. I execute the drawing in a
hypnotic tempo and meditative state that manifests itself into physical form to
unite the viewer with the intimacy of the experience. The drawings
are performed in private and public space and examine the limitations of the
body with continuous motion over several hours until a state of exhaustion is
reached.
The drawings begin with intense
spontaneous gestures within a small space that replicate, synchronize and
divide and gradually swell and burst to the outwardly extended body. Like
a cell dividing, the internal self-generating energy of the process is
bilaterally and equally distributed as the image grows. Ultimately, the
drawing becomes a study of contrast showing the peaceful-chaotic, soothing-painful and joyful-desperate moments of the performance."
CB adds a story:
"When we first moved into one
ten park, construction immediately began at the apartments above us.
There were several vaults placed within the studio making and scaffolding on
the outer building surrounding one ten park. We decided to make
use of the surrounding scaffolding. Arturo had painted several images
that led to the door of one ten park and in July, I completed a synchronicity
performance drawing on the scaffolding that allowed the community to engage in
the public performance. The drawing was eventually dismantled by the
construction workers and may be in circulation at another construction site
which is sort of interesting too!"
THE FUTURE:SEARCHING FOR A DEPENDABLE CO-AUTHOR or two. Q: Hmm. Why am I doing this alone again? A. I didn't know who else would
be interested, who I would also get along with, but I had to take action
and begin something new with or without partnerships. But,
how narcissistic and uninteresting. "contemporary art life and studio practices of Windsor,ON+area (as per Sasha Opeiko)"? Who do I
think I am? Let's be realistic and remember that I have my
own artistic practice and research to take care of (more narcissism),
and there is a lot of ground to cover, sometimes I won't be
able to be in three places at once.
I can do this on my own, but the
frequency of posts and coverage may suffer. If you want to contribute,
and if I can rely on you to be consistent, present, excited... contact
me with a sample of your writing [[sashaopeiko@gmail.com]]- a review, an interview, or even an opinionated letter of interest.... The mandate of this blog is to make obvious that Windsor art practices are connected to the rest of the world. There are 'outside' artists coming through, and Windsorites exhibit and research globally. We function in frameworks that extend outside of the border-city motor-city conversation. I intend to search for artists in Windsor, but also artists who have left Windsor. You will not get paid for your writing, but this is an excellent excuse to meet/seek artists and go to more exhibitions.
THINGS TO COME: To come this week: a feature article on one ten park: a working space. To come soon: comments on Art Gallery of Windsor exhibitions (Kika Thorne, Robert Houle, John Scott) To come soon: comments on 48 Hour Flickfest (Oct. 19-21) + feature interview with filmmaker Jarrod Ferris. To come soon: comments on a sound poetry event at Common Ground:
Maybe to come soon: (if I can make it to D-city in time) comments on Engage at Whitdel Arts and Vision in a Cornfield at MOCAD
Inland Empires opening reception Sept. 7, 2012. Image courtesy of Artcite Inc.
Mike
Marcon’s exhibition Inland Empires is
a set of seven installation pieces inciting discourse on topics of national
identity.
Although I possess a Canadian
citizenship, I cannot relate to the legends and ancestry of the Canadian
frontier that I suspect many other Canadians do possess, because I did not
learn anything about Canadian history until the 7th grade, which
appropriately coincided with a new school, assimilation into the main class from
humiliating ESL segregation (i.e. assimilation into the English language), and a pubescent romanticized
longing for something other than the social and familial nightmares of the
(then) present, all of which conglomerated with the discovery of “the Canadian
explorer” as something desirable, strong, masculine, and factually epic.
Arbitrary vision of Jacques Cartier
Lacking a backbone and seeing myself as a
meek female,meeker still from my status
as an immigrant, I was magnetized to the superhuman strength of the wild
explorers – the solitary travelers superior to the rest of mankind, yet heroically
representing the summit of human vitality against the elements, who like soldiers
would be claimed by a country for countryhood, as if colonized through
sacrifice.
Stills from Come and See (1985).
The feeling of romance was also
founded in pre-immigration childhood encounters with exotic literature such as
“The Call of the Wild” by Jack London, and other such exoticized Russian
translations about Canadian wilderness. One story described a man who had to eat frogs
to survive (I hope I am not mistaking a Russian story for a Canadian one… but
either way, my memory must have lumped them together for similarities in behavioral
tendencies). Gruesome and uncanny, these stories spoke of
valor, endurance, and tragedy, and in my mind were also chronologically and
thematically paired with socialist WWII films and stories about partisans and
comrades roasting on the battlefield, smelling of pork (as a veteran imparted to my third grade class). I digress.
All of the above is an
afterthought – a distribution of my own weight, the prelude to which has little
to do with the western frontier or the WW’s.My initial experience with this work rests on formal, material, and
spatial aspects, such as the compression of all elements into a contained unit,
held by the mindful organization of selected objects, crafted to sit in a solid
framework of wood (which to some extent itself speaks of western expansion –man over nature: landscape cultivated into
cabinets, shredded for books, for containment of knowledge).
The first piece I encountered is Land Cart. I incidentally came upon this
piece when it was a work in progress, in the sculpture studio of Lebel.Mike Marcon was not in the vicinity.The work was described to me by someone else,
in fondness of the labour implied upon it.We commented on the finish of the metal, the crafted emblem of a tree, the
qualities of the salvaged wood. The hand
drawn outline of a bird triggered an association with Neil Young & Crazy
Horse album cover Zuma, which may or may not be worth mentioning. It was with
this pretext (Neil Young aside) that I approached the work in the installation.
I noticed compositional similarities, which, in a vehicular attitude of
specifics, later gave way to ideological narrative. The specifics I am referring to are such
details as an antique lantern, rows of jars containing nails and water, gasoline
cans, memorabilia, an open drawer filled with rows of batteries painted
army-green.The latter, in combination
with tin cans (ideal for mountaineering and trenches), large roll of antique bandages,
and a framed illustration in the Russian language instructing “This is how to
bandage the arm to the body”, are all specifics which certainly contributed to
my eventual narrative digression about the WW’s.
What I find
peculiar about this body of work is that it is not only an assortment of stuff
pertaining to a theme.There are found
objects, selected literature, negated literature (books treated as things, as
appearance), but there are also investments of gesture on the part of the
artist which go beyond mere arrangement and presentation of objects.He has carefully cast in bronze figurines,
shims, emblems, friezes of his own design, and a handsome ram head with
rope horns. He has spray painted accents of black to make more obvious the aged
aesthetic of the wood surface, and the tin cans are shined to a uniform sheen.The work for
some reason had to be claimed, or marked, by the artist.Although I find these gestures a bit
puzzling, they are not altogether out of place, and do function to contain the
work, as a seal, to make it obvious that this is all just imagery, that it is not
about the degradation of material in the open air, but about the world of
signifiers.Things become thoughts.
Weapons of Winning (2010). Image courtesy of Artcite Inc.
Objects here are
compartmentalized, as if to pluck and place from a series of random, but
inevitably associated images, fished from a pool of ideology most people in
this part of the world can relate to, at least semantically. Consider the Mickey Mouse perched over Northern Allegory no. 2, and the stacks of
visual ephemera on cards, which a viewer may choose from arbitrarily, as if
pulling a file from a filing cabinet.Because
the objects are linearly, uniformly, and tightly distributed within one unit, and
because the works converse with each other in the gallery space, the objects do
not appear to have any particular hierarchy of importance.Repetition here is not greater than the singular. Even the pieces with the light boxes do not
seem to imply too much emphasis on the distinctness of the light box or video,
versus the roughened items in the composition. For example, the iconic image of
the sinking ship in Northern Allegory no.
5, which is a video slowed down enough to deny the horror of the event and
acting as a still impression, is just as much of a focal point as the dirty
gloves inNorthern Allegory no. 6. The
sign “How to become a legend” below the sinking vessel becomes not about dying
in a shipwreck, but about dying in the registered appearance of an image.To me,
these are not narratives, but bundles of information, carried by stuff.
Detail of Northern Allegory no. 5 (2012). Image courtesy of Artcite Inc.
Each piece in this exhibition can be likened
to a ship, descending with the slow pace of history, as allegories should, nothing
but by-products of certain activities, posthumous remnants of vehicles, which
carry mental records via linguistic and object-based image realities.That
is too grandiose of a conclusion. Let us humbly part with this: If Jan Svankmajer
had a dream about Canada, he would have Mike Marcon among his pals.
