Article & Literature Descriptions
Derelicte 3 Fashion/Art Show
Walleye Magazine, Feb. 2011
Article and Photo by Duncan WellerLike falling through a layer cake of events, the fans and dedicated fashion followers, witnessed a body slam of wearable clothes, fabulous art, funky music and a good party when it hit the Black Pirate’s Pub. The artists outdid themselves this year, and the models got into the act, proudly displaying barely wearable non-functional self-imploding get-ups that make you happy to be alive, because life is still full of surprises.
Just one of the many events organized by Renee T. and David K., the Derelecte 3 Fashion Odyssey rang in the New Year for a string of upcoming fundraisers and art shows for the Definitely Superior Art Gallery.
The venue was packed. The audience feasted on fashions featuring teams from The Crafty Coccoon, The Craft Collective, Lux Boutique, The Loop, Red Earth Imports, and Creation Body Piercing. Much of these works were bright, stylish, and youth-orientated, including “wool and ‘faux fur’ Cowl,” drindle skirts, baskets, linen capelettes, bamboo cotton, silk, tassels, plaits, wrist cozies, embroidery, hoods, scarves, dresses and a cape. Some of these ensembles were warm for Winter wear, but most would kill the model if they attempted to walk it home that cold night.
Pictures tell a thousand words, (see images), but not when it comes to movement. And the models and performers emboldened their acts with creative daring. Tanya Elchuk stood out. Dressed as a deer (Sarah Furlotte design), she mimicked Johnny Depp’s Captain Sparrow walk – as a drunken, or terribly confused, deer. It was so good, I forgot to raise my camera. And again when Tanya performed a burlesque piece as a lumberjack, disrobing to her undies, teddy bear, and tiny tassels. Duct tape was never used so well.
Kathleen Baleja and Jelena Psenicnick modeled headwear made of wasp’s nests and feathers. They walked with poise and elegance in a bird like manner as if to pay homage to ancient avian rituals.
Christian Chapman wanted to push his audience away, literally. His silver NASA float wormed its way to the stage with the help of Julia McArthur, somewhere in its centre. The silver cloud ballooned over the catwalk and into an appreciative audience.
Helen Leaf Black and Carol Kajorinne, covered in body paint, wearing next to nothing and Helen’s amazing jewelry, came out from their animist world to perform a ritual dance of unknown origin. And with their brief performance comes the realization of the incredible work the artist’s costumes bear for the brief time they are displayed on stage.
The night sped by. Four hours contracted with a wonderful balance of sight, sound, experimentation, improvisation, daring and humour. Here’s looking forward to the challenges the artists and designers have set themselves up for next year.
Lantern Keeper: The Art of Alana Forslund
Painting by Alana Forslund
The Walleye Magazine, January 2011
Article and Photo by Duncan WellerAlana Forslund is concerned that we adults are losing the best part of ourselves – memories of childhood, along with our imagination and our ability to play, overrun with the pressures of living the day-to-day adult life.
With the aid of a grant from the Ontario Arts Council, Alana was given enough time to play with these ideas in her wonderful new paintings. “Lantern Keeper,” featuring a barefoot woman in the forest with her jar of fireflies, is a good example of her new work. Alana’s deft handling of oil paint (“amazing mush” she calls it) is a joy to observe. Backgrounds are complete works, not filler, which Alana treats and uses to great effect to place her subjects in real and allegorical settings. Light and shadow dance over the skin of her subjects, reacting and firmly setting the characters within a story – a happening of some sort, where the subjects are absorbed in their playful activity. Much is alluded to but nothing is resolved, much like the act of playing itself. These moody images, focusing on a singular character, inspire the viewer to ask, “what’s her story.”
Alana felt that the love her friends used to have for childhood activities were fading in their memories. “Losing memories is normal. Memories are fluid. They make us human, but losing them is also sort of a scary,” Alana says. That tone of thought can be seen in other paintings where striating interference lines scratch the surface, obscuring some of the imagery and reminding the viewer that something unreal is going on. Thankfully the strength of the images, the wonderment and enjoyment the subjects find in their activity indicate that Alana is optimist. There’s enough hope and resolve to keep positive memories alive that make Alana’s work brilliantly humanist, and make Alana’s paintings and career worth great attention.
The Attempt to Ban My Books from the Toronto Public Library System
October, 2010
Article and Illustration by Duncan WellerWithout my efforts, only one copy of my award-winning book, The Boy from the Sun would exist in the Toronto Public Library system (99 libraries servicing 3 million people). 26 copies of my books Spacesnake and Night Wall, the majority of them, have already been removed from the system, removed in a one-month period. I have yet to receive an explanation as to why there appears to be a bias against my books.
Awards presented to artists are intended to introduce good works to the larger public. Awards declare – Hey! Look at this! – to suggest outstanding merit for artwork worth checking out. Awards are intended to help enlarge the artist’s audience. Awards are most often the best method that an artist’s peers can commend one of their own for their hard work, talent, and sacrifice. Awards celebrate artists to help finance, encourage and give them confidence that they may continue on their path, because it is to everyone’s benefit. The greatest benefit of awards is that they help to produce a culture worth celebrating; after all, the culture of a country, simply put, is what its people celebrate. And it starts with saying, Hey! Look at this!
At the American Library Association’s conference in Philadelphia in 2008 I walked the crowded floors promoting my books, randomly hassling librarians. One of them turned out to be the Librarian of Congress, Dr. Billington. He was happy to order my book, The Boy from the Sun. I was elated by our quick meet. Later that day I watched as various children’s book awards were announced on big screens to a huge audience eagerly awaiting the results for the biggest prize of them all.
At the announcement of the winner of the Caldecot award thousands of librarians who came from across the United States stood up and cheered. It was an amazing sight. You couldn’t help but get excited by their enthusiasm. And Brian Selznick’s book is a great children’s book, well deserving the accolades and promotion.
Winners of the Caldecott Award in the United States for picture books receive national attention with radio, television, and newspaper coverage – fantastic coverage that sell enough books allowing the author to live off the proceeds for years. And the recognition allows them to continue working in their field for the rest of their lives. This is of great benefit to the public, especially children, as the books will grow in quality. Awards, with this kind of backing are key in making children’s book culture viable in the United States.
The coverage where I currently reside, Thunder Bay, has been great. Reporters call to ask what I’m working on. My Alma Mater, Lakehead University graced me with an alumni award and plugged me as one of three local talents in a successful campaign to promote itself. I was awarded grant money from the Ontario Arts Council, which has kept me working on new books. I’ve sold a few paintings – one that paid my way through Europe. I’ve done readings, workshops, held art shows and helped a few local artists with their careers.
Elsewhere it’s a different story, but before I get to the meat of this story I need to relate a relatively minor incident that occurred at the National Library of Ottawa after the 2007 Governor General’s Award winners gave readings to the public.
The authors had piles of books on their tables and boxes of books stuffed beneath, ready to be sold and signed for eager buyers. I had twelve copies of my book, The Boy from the Sun. I should have given my twelve copies away for free because the Canada Council purchased these twelve copies from the local Chapters down the street when they discovered beforehand that there were none available for my table. I know this because I happened to be in Chapters before the readings when a woman from the CC bought the twelve remaining copies. I spotted the books sitting in a box behind the counter ready to be picked up.
After the reading and selling my twelve copies I had to disappoint maybe thirty eager buyers before Michael Ondaatje came to my table. Smiling, he asked for a copy of my book.
“I’m sold out,” I said. “I had only twelve copies.”
Michael, downcast, stated gruffly, “That’s disgraceful!” I smirked and shrugged. I made sure to get a copy of his GG award winning novel (his fourth GG!), Divisidero.
“That’s disgraceful!” I hear Ondaatje’s voice over and over, every time I think of the lost opportunities and the failures of others to simply do the job they were obligated to perform – with contracts – made as valuable as a piece of paper, by breach, inaction and neglect. I thought winning two of Canada’s top awards for children’s books might change things for me. It has, but not as I had hoped.
The Toronto Public Library has 99 branches in the Toronto district serving 2.7million people. It is the largest library system in North America with a budget of over $180 million. A committee (I’m told) at the library decided not to order a single copy of my children’s picture book after the book had won the Governor General’s Award in 2007. In 2008 they did not order a single copy of my book when it won the Ruth and Sylvia Schwartz Children’s Book Award. Regarding the GG, this is the first time the Toronto Public Library did not order a single copy since the category (in which I won the award) was created in 1978. The Schwartz award was selected by grade 3 and 4 child jurors from Ryerson Community Public School, founded in 1877 in the heart of Toronto.
The prize money for both awards had been dramatically increased from the previous year with the hopes of helping authors and illustrators in their careers, and to attract more national attention to good quality books. Some in the children’s book business consider the Schwartz Award more valuable for a children’s book author because it is children who choose the winning book from a selection of books from across the country.
Normally the Toronto Public Library orders 50 to 70 copies of the book that wins in the category of children’s book writing and illustration for the GG.
In Toronto in the summer of 2008, I discovered that only one copy of The Boy from the Sun existed somewhere in one of the 99 branches. I headed downtown to the Toronto Public Library and the first librarian I spoke with was Brenda Livingston. Casually, I asked how many copies of my book existed in the system. She happily turned to her computer, and after a couple clicks she became quickly embarrassed. She asked me not to get angry as I sat bemused. She was certain that copies would be ordered.
Months later when no books showed up in the system I spoke on the phone with Theo Harris, the children’s service specialist. She informed me that a committee had decided not to order the book. She refused to tell me why. She refused to tell me who the head of the committee was. She refused to say whether or not more copies would be ordered.
Eventually eight more copies turned up in the system. One that went missing earlier had returned making the grand total, ten copies.
When I decided to make a serious query, I checked the library’s database and discovered that copies of my other two books, Night Wall and Spacesnake had been removed: 19 copies of Spacesnake and 17 copies of Night Wall – altogether, 26 copies – leaving 7 and 3 respectively. I wrote to Brenda Livingston who told me it was likely the books were removed because they had been damaged, not removed because of lack of circulation as they were circulating well.
I realized some time later that if the 26 books removed were damaged it was within a one-month period, the time within which I had last checked the library’s database – that’s 26 books damaged in one month in many different libraries. Damaged books are “weeded,” Brenda told me, exclusively by librarians in individual branches. “Kids can be really rough on books,” Brenda wrote.
Brenda had forwarded my email regarding the removal of the 26 copies to Leslie Koster, the Senior Collections Specialist, Children’s Materials. Koster offered no explanation. She informed me that she would be ordering more copies of The Boy from the Sun, but it was up to individual librarians of the many libraries to reorder my other two books.
With yet another email I enquired how many copies of The Boy from the Sun Koster planned to order. The reply: 26 copies – the same number of my other two books that had been removed, supposedly due to damage.
Mystery unsolved I emailed a list of questions to see if Koster could explain why The Boy from the Sun wasn’t ordered in the first place, why so few later, who was the head of the committee, and exactly how it was that so many of my other books could be removed from the library system in such a short time period. I am still waiting for a reply to these questions and a few others.
Margaret Atwood liked The Boy from the Sun. She was on the jury that chose my book for the GG Award. So was Michael Martchenko, illustrator for Robert Munch’s books. I wrote to Margaret and she replied in a letter, “Canadians are dubious about success, which includes prizes. They are still not sure that it’s ok to be good at something (except hockey).”
To help Americans understand and celebrate awards and artists, The Horn Book recently printed a special awards issue. Joanna Rudge Long points out that the Caldecot is judged only by the merits of the book itself, without external factors of fairness, ethnicity, previous winnings, history, or audience.
Roger Sutton adds in the next article; “Children’s book awards are not given to confirm the public’s taste but to reward those authors who most richly demonstrate what a book for children can be.”
The Horn Book also featured articles by the award winners in which they shed light on their books and careers. I hope one day to have this opportunity.
Dr. Shiyali Ramamrita Ranganathan, the luminary and father of library science, proposed five laws for libraries. The first three relate to my case:
1. Books are for use. 2. Every reader his (or her) book. 3. Every book its reader.
LINDA BROWN: VESSELS UNEARTHED
Metal Art Magazine, 2010
Article and Photo by Duncan Weller
Three years ago, sisters Linda and Marianne Brown, stepped out the doors of the Thunder Bay Art Gallery, looked at each other, and asked “What have we gotten ourselves into?” They had just committed themselves to a show in metal in 2007. In 1996 Marianne, a goldsmith, invited Linda to do apprenticeship work at her Red Door Studio for the summer in Cowichan Bay B.C. What Linda learned in Marianne’s studio was a gift that never stopped giving. She returned for two other six week working visits. The hand fabrication techniques she learned from her sister came easily after a lifetime of making things with her hands.
The results were visible recently in the show titled Well Tempered: the recent metal work of Linda and Marianne Brown. Linda’s vessels and Marianne’s fine jewelry were displayed in plexiglass cases. The novel displays appeared as capsules of frozen time. Innumerable beautiful craft works were strewn within, decorated with actual tree branches, pinecones, and paper leaves. The show had a wondrous otherworldly feel. It was if one was viewing selected remnants of a forgotten tragedy where the wealthy inhabitants of an ancient culture escaped in such a hurry they could barely carry their treasures.
Linda Brown’s inspiration for her vessels and previous works of art as a painter and sculptor come from the Northwestern Ontario landscape, a region carpeted by variety. Connecting closely with nature as a child, her playful creations in forests around Current River included creating mock houses. In clearings she would lay out assemblages of natural debris into rooms and doorways.
With her need to control the entire process Linda’s background in fine arts and sculpture pushed her to do bigger works in metal, which involved bronze casting. She also took control by starting her own business in 1990, which continues today with a little storefront and adequate shared working space.
The desire to work with silver finally coalesced with reality when Linda completed her apprenticeship with her sister Marianne, who Linda considers a “jewelry queen”. Linda also studied with Wally Gilbert and learnt repoussé, wire fusing, and small vessel construction. Here she made her first hollowware piece. Linda taught herself sinking and raising techniques using Finegold and the Seitz Silversmithing manual. With confidence acquired after much practice Linda took a course at the Studio in the Woods in Hornings Mills - David Iven’s studio - with master silversmith Brian Clarke in 2006 and 2007. This advancement was critical to the work put on display at the Thunder Bay Art Gallery.
Of particular interest are the folds in her latest vessels where Linda allows for them to be naturally pulled and drawn in the process. The folds are laid out on the metal disc. Then tree patterns are cross-peen hammered between the folds on what will become the outside of the bowl. The disc is sunk. The parts between stretch, and the folds are pulled naturally as a result. Finally, the raised surface areas, and specifically the folds, are hand burnished.
Linda’s journey of love continues in a direction where she will create more complex works. She has the desire to leap the quintessential hurdle for silversmiths – the creation of a teapot – that will most likely display all her wonderful folds and her love of the Lake Superior North Shore.
On May 4th: From Roermond, Holland
Printed in the Chronicle Journal: May 6, 2010
Article and Photo by Duncan WellerA two-minute silence at 8 pm on May 4th to respect the dead was broken at its tail end by a man intentionally and unintelligibly screaming amongst thousands of people in Dam Square, Amsterdam. The screaming caused a domino effect of panic, some were trampled, many injured. Queen Beatrix and princess Maxima were quickly hustled out by security. Many feared a repeat of last year’s attempt to kill members of the royal family. The incident was relayed live on television across Holland. Dutch viewers bolted forward in their seats, and feared the worst. Did someone drop from a building? Was a bomb about to go off? The live feed continued, creating anxious suspense. Within minutes, to appreciative applause, Queen Beatrix and princess Maxima returned to the square and the ceremonies continued. The Dutch viewers relaxed, back in their couches.
The threat of violence and the quick display of resilience had associations to the historical events portrayed in many television documentaries and news items about the liberation of Holland by Canadian, British, American and Dutch troops. Days earlier, particular attention was given to the Anne Frank House and Anne’s story. The museum opened 50 years ago on May 3rd.
65 years ago, Canadian troops lead the way in a four-month assault on the Nazis who occupied Holland. The Nazis were starving the Dutch to death and the Canadians became the heroes that fought from street to field to canal to street again. The Nazis, having already eradicated nearly all the Jews from Holland, had gone on a killing spree to murder tens of thousands of Dutch men from the ages of 17 to 40. The Dutch men were rounded up in stadiums and dispersed to “work” camps.
In Roermond, a town close to the German border, what was once a synagogue hasn’t been used as a place of worship since the war. The man who owns the men’s clothing shop across the walk claims to be the only Jew in town. His wife passed away a few years ago, and he plans to move to Amsterdam. There are about at hundred thousand Jews living in the Netherlands today.
The Germans of today don’t celebrate May 4th or 5th, obviously, but they are certainly aware of the date. Many Dutch and Germans live in one country, but work in another, so the Germans who work in Holland get a holiday on May 5th, but the Dutch who work in Germany, do not. Many speak each other’s language fluently.
Germany is now a peaceful nation, open to immigration. A mix of races inhabits the streets, all speaking fluent German. The border is mentioned in a signpost somewhere along the autobahn, and you can travel by car or train through border countries in and out of Germany without having to show your passport.
Germans are very friendly, industrious, progressive (green technology is everywhere), and wealthy. Young people don’t ignore their history and are quick to make references to the wartime past when they encounter tourists. When asked for directions to the old section of Frankfurt, a young woman says, “Well, there’s not much left. It was bombed by the British.” And she smiles to reveal that she holds no grudge.
At a “flashmob” night dance at the beautiful waterfront in Düsseldorf, hundreds of young strangers gather for a spontaneous 3-hour practice. They are video taped for a televised Eurovision song contest. References to the war appear on a few t-shirts and can be heard in youthful banter. If you don’t speak German, you can still get the gist that rougher kids use ‘Auschwitz’, ‘Nazi’, and ‘Hitler,’ in insults to each other, without animosity. The Nazi past has blended into a Goth-like popular subculture. Young Germans seem to be free from the worry that violence and hatred is some kind of genetic trait which it is most obviously not.
The Eyjafjallajokull Blues
Chronicle Journal, April 22, 2010.
Article by Duncan Weller
Photo by Swedish touristThe British Navy is sending ships to France to rescue the stranded. John Cleese of Monty Python spent five thousand dollars on a cab ride. People are still sleeping at airports. Tens of thousands of people can’t afford to stay in hotels any longer. The Aviation Industry is losing 200 million dollars a day. Leaders of countries can’t travel and neither can athletes, musicians, business executives, girl guides and touring school children. Trains and ferries are booked solid. Students need to get to school. Kids need to be with their parents. People have jobs to start and return to, and a number of people couldn’t get married. Food will soon rot in warehouses. Farmers, and businesses up the food chain all over the world could soon be bankrupt. Mail can’t be delivered.
Last Thursday, an email from my friend in Finland, Anna, warned that airports in Northern Sweden were closing. Anna is a reporter I met in Thunder Bay when she worked for the Finish newspaper, the Canadan Sanomat. Immediately after my interview with a publisher at 13:00, I booked a flight to Dusseldorf on Air Baltic’s website and quickly got to the airport. An hour later, while at the head of the line at the gate, our flight was cancelled. On Saturday, my flight with Delta Airlines from Amsterdam to Minneapolis was cancelled.
I Google stories about the effects of the ash clouds spewing from the Eyjafjallajokull Volcano in Iceland, because the stories remind me of how lucky I am. I’m single, so I don’t have to worry about anyone except my cat. I’m self-employed, so I can work on my laptop. I’m in Stockholm in a nice B&B that is cheaper than a hotel, but twice as expensive as a hostel, (I cut a deal with the hotel manager). Earlier in my travels, I made a couple friends who are now offering me their spare room in Holland. And I have some money in the bank. I’m thinking positively.
However, I don’t want to dig into savings that were hard to get. Staying in a hotel is expensive. There’s a possibility that I may not get refunded by two airlines. If the volcano keeps spewing ash, or truly explodes, it may be along time before a flight. I will have to consider the option of a boat ride back to Canada and a flight to Thunder Bay from wherever the boat berths.
Or, because I am also a European citizen, I can rent an apartment, and look for a job. All the while, I’m still paying for rent on my apartment in Thunder Bay, so I may have to get friends to put all my stuff into storage. To make matters worse, I’m an artist. I have no way of telling what my income will be from month to month. Grant money that I received from the Ontario Arts Council is supposed to be used for writing and illustrating my next children’s book, The Girl from the Moon. This volcano could set me back months.
So what am I doing here? I have been in Europe a month now after attending the Bologna Children’s Book Fair in Italy to find a new publisher. I’ve dumped my current publisher, and I hope I never have to work with a Canadian publisher. (But this is another story.) My plan was to meet publishers at the fair, and then have time to visit the publishers on their home turf. This took me to Leipzig and Stockholm for the actual interviews. Along the way I stopped in Vienna, Berlin, and Helsinki.
In Stockholm, my Swedish, French and Italian roommates at the B&B also had their flights cancelled. After three days of expectation, they lost faith in the airline’s daily offerings of hopeful updates. They thought my situation worse because I have an ocean to cross. I told them I was now pretending to be on vacation, and joked that I might start a novel. They joked that Iceland misunderstood the message, “We want cash, not ash!”
My roommates had little interest in the actual volcano. They focused on reports from the airlines, the industry’s troubles and passenger woes. I related what I’d learned about the abrasiveness of ash, NASA flight tests, and the history of volcanoes on Iceland, specifically the one causing problems and the potential for an even bigger volcano eruption with Katla. This would truly be devastating. To them I was a naysayer and doom-monger. I thought I was being realistic. Even if Eyjafjallajokull sputters out tonight, the ash cloud has to dissipate and the airlines have to reorganize themselves. It might be a week or two before I get another flight home. If however – and this seems more likely – the volcano continues to spew ash into the sky, me and a whole lot of other people, many in very dire situations, will have to make a few big decisions.
Friday and Saturday the trains were booked. My roommates opted to join others on crowded buses and trains. They left this morning.
I decided to wait a couple days after the weekend in an attempt to avoid long lines and crowds at the train station. I may leave tomorrow for Holland, but the manager here just offered me an even better deal on the hotel bill, if I pay in kronor. That’s cash, not ash.
Derbouka and Thorkelsson
Chronicle Journal, Dec. 2007
Photos SuppliedThe Thunder Bay Art Gallery has offered me the opportunity to go hyperbolic with praise and dynamic description. I have to restrain myself in enthusiasm for two new shows in order to give you the facts first.
In the main gallery till January 20 is Robert Derbouka’s show EX-centric. He will be talking about his work on January 17 at 7:30pm at the gallery, and I strongly encourage you to go. Also showing is Ione Thorkelsson’s show entitled Narratives.
Often a gallery can take on the look of a museum and then some. Thorkelsson’s work would be more appropriate in a museum if the fossilized creatures in the gallery were real. The unsettling glass castings resonate with otherworldliness akin to a discovery of an alien species or as dramatic evidence that new age fantasies were not fantasy after all: that this is proof of the existence of near human creatures who could fly in times before recorded history, before the fall of some Eden-like state. Myth, metaphor, pseudoscience, and craft intermingle to make for a wonderful exhibit where the mind races to make sense of the translucent hybrid skeletal structures that are poetic inferences to imaginative allegories of humans in some superior state or as decaying remnants of some failed species.
Years ago, with encouragement from Glenn Allison (the TBAG’s curator) when he worked at the Gallery of Southwestern Manitoba, Ione began working with cast glass. Ione ran her own glassblowing studio for twenty years. She has had a few major solo shows over the years.
Robert Derbouka’s takes naïve art to the extreme. Eccentric, esoteric, ridiculous and dazzling, the dedication or addiction to sculpt and paint works of such depth of meaning and brilliant humour can only come from a passionate soul who loves life and all of our human foibles. The works never seem to complete a single thought; rather, they catapult ideas back and forth across the room creating a playground-like environment where the work screams as from one eccentric expressive genius.
Bruce Hyer (local MP) pulled me away from another function to praise the work and point out his favourite pieces. He restated one of my first thoughts when I saw the work through the galleries glass doors; that Derbouka’s work needed to be somewhere other than a gallery. The sculpted works had the appearance of being warehoused before their shipment to take prominent and permanent residence in local institutions. The totem pole celebrating music is an inspiring work for anyone to see, and could easily become a favourite work of art for the city if purchased for the Community Auditorium.
I couldn’t decide on a favourite piece to write about as I found that describing one piece wouldn’t work as an example of the whole. There is so much intelligent exploratory and imaginative strength that the works prohibit me from finding an underlying theme. There are dozens of themes working here, and the more you look the more you will find. In Derbouka’s case, this is a wonderful thing.
Toni Hafkenscheid: Must See Photos and Art
at the Definitely Superior Art Gallery
Article by Duncan Weller. Chronicle Journal, Sat. Dec. 22, 2007 Photos supplied.
Toni Hafkenscheid’s photographic work in Gallery 1 evokes an unusual sense of awe and a degree of levity from its inspiring humour. Increasing the size of something traditionally creates a sense of awe, such as a pyramid, a grandiose sculpture of a political leader, or a celebrities face on a large movie screen. It also increases its persuasive effect and authority. Toni Hafkenscheid creates a sense of awe but in reverse with a photographic technique that has a narrow focal width excessively blurring foreground and background. This strips away authority from the subjects he photographs by making his subjects appear small. One gets the sense of looking at excessively detailed models or toys.
Halfkenscheid is originally from Amsterdam, and is now teaching at the Ontario College of Art and Design in Toronto. He’s been playing with this influential photographic aesthetic theme since 1991. His approach is one that has been copied by other photographers, and recently by filmmakers as well.
His photos immediately reminded me of when I was living in Montreal. Three years ago a friend from Brazil who is a model train fan, thinking of joining the Montreal Chapter’s Association, took me to 891 St. Paul St. where the public rarely has access. There, a small warehouse contains one of North America’s largest model train panoramas. It has everything, including miniature sunbathers. The diorama was amazing and the kid in me jumped for joy. However, where a model train set doesn’t inspire much reflection about our own humanity, except to be amazed at the love and dedication grown adults have for reproducing the world in miniature, Hafkenscheid’s reproductions are of real life, but miniaturized. And Hafkenschield, very aware of the toy comparison, cleverly photographs subjects, trains included, which add to the bizarre effect.
It’s the effect of having to deal with an obvious duality, for although I know that the photos are not of models, my mind is persuaded not to believe it, so big questions come to mind: are our lives so small, and whose big and possibly condescending eye are we staring through anyway? The photos are huge, but your eyes become, for lack of a better description, God’s eyes. This creates a sense of awe, by making YOU bigger, not the subjects.
Typical of good comedy is a startling revelation of unexpected incongruity – not my phrase. And great comedians often point out what we are conditioned to overlook, what should be obvious ironies in our behavior. Hafkenscheid’s photography does the same so there’s great humour in his work. It’s a lot of fun looking through a Hafkenscheid lens.The Urban Photography Show in Gallery 2 is part of Defsup’s worthy mission of lifting up rocks to see who’s hiding in our neck of the woods. Many artists are shy semi-reclusive types with loads of talent who need a little encouragement. Defsup’s many juried shows not only introduce the public to new talent but introduce these humble types to each other, which may also inspire collaborations.
Jayal Chung, Steven Eschkin, and Brandon Balon take up two walls with projected images. It’s a multi-media slide show avoiding the printing and framing process. Although lacking crispiness, brightness, and the clarity of a good photograph, this presentation of interesting and thoughtful images seems more natural these days. With the slideshow preview option on my computer I’ve rarely had the need to print photos. And soon we may all be projecting our favourite photos on walls from our computers with some new device.
However, as contrast but in theme with the projected images, are the many other traditional photography works in this gallery. Jay Arpin’s untitled photograph of a door is brilliantly coloured. The digital manipulation (I’m assuming) is as cleverly handled as any brush, and the handiwork is near invisible. I make the assumption because of the excessive beauty and colour of the door. As unnatural as it is, it is a beautiful step towards turning the commonplace into the fantastic without getting silly with the Photoshop – something easy to do, and which I’m guilty of myself. It would be great to see a film where this kind of attention and use of colour was employed as successfully.
Interesting because of its reportage, and as part of the function of this show to make observations of our urban environment, is Ryan Slivchak’s “The Warhol of Fame,” which depicts a mural on the underside of a bridge crossing the McIntyre river, which has its own political statements and encourages one to seek out rare instances of creative efforts, much more interesting than typical graffiti.
Unfortunately, photographers, despite their artistic acuity, have a lot to learn about properly presenting their works in a gallery setting. Frame them! Nicely! A good presentation can really enhance not just the individually submitted work, but the look of an entire show. Invest! Your art is worth it.
In Gallery 3 are Christian Chapman’s large paintings. In the wake of Norval Morrisseau’s passing, Chapman is definitely an emerging artist worth note. His paintings have multiple weaknesses and strengths, but personal statements, as evocative as Arthur Schilling, enhance the overall punch of these contemporary aesthetically conscious pieces. Chapman is a slick updated brother of Gauguin, mixing landscape, design, and figures. Although not for everyone the mixed media blend of screen-printing, oils, acrylics, and limited collage have been used to create big fresh colourful paintings that are memorable and inspiring for other painters.
There are no obvious social statements as Chapman relies on making inferences and making subjective and mysterious a world where people are stripped bare in a natural world spoiled by technology. There is an optimism of a coming rebirth of nature. People appear as ghostlike memories, but often are fleshy and solid. Chapman’s talents could take him in any direction – towards more patterned and misty ghostlike works or towards harsh and heavy more colourful versions of Richard Attila Lukacs works – filled with disturbingly realistic figures in dramatic settings. In the future Chapman’s work will definitely appear on bigger gallery walls. If I was a collector, I would snatch up as many of these early works as possible.
Buffet of Art at the Definitely Superior Art Gallery: Lana McGregor, Sarah Furlotte, Matt Wyatt, Ryan Slivchak, Kathleen Baleja
Sat. Nov. 10, 2007, Chronicle Journal.
Article and Photos by Duncan WellerYour eyes are not enough. So I discovered when Kathleen Baleja pointed out that what I discounted as plain old paper mache was actually wasp nest mache, of a sort. Live bees and dead snake skin were also incorporated on a body-cast piece Kathleen titled “Women: First Time After Fifty.” Like most of the works in the 19th annual juried show at the Definitely Superior Gallery, located on the gambler’s side of the Eaton’s centre, there is a story, all loosely or directly based on the broad theme of Change. And like a buffet of art the result is that there is something for everybody. Many of the artists took up the task and changed style, trying something new. Whether it’s good, or whether you like it is up for debate, but overall this kind of show is always praiseworthy, if only in that the show becomes a menu of some of what Thunder Bay and the region has to offer in artistic talent.
From comic book to box art, from the mundane still life to the more abstruse modern, the theme could easily have been Variety. Ryan Slivchak made the central piece domineering the main gallery. It is called “Faith Based Initiatives.” It is an oversized cross neatly decorated with red shotgun shells. A shopping cart holds up the cross. The mix of holy, unholy, and downright commercial is a very clever triple-slap of metaphor, sure to inspire discussion.
Computer generated images are projected on to a painted canvas in Matt Wyatt’s “Five Day Planner.” A typical TV weatherman has a ridiculously phony smile considering that the projected weather for the week includes the end of the world with a temperature of 2012 degrees. The weatherman appears as if nothing is wrong, but the day planner suggests that the most important activity that day is to, “Make love to your wife,” because it might be the best and last fun thing you can do. Matt’s other painting in the show, a crowd scene titled “Balinese New Year” reminds me of the great work of the British artist, P.J. Crook.
Sarah Furlotte’s “Elephant Stomps and Waves” is a paper-based mixed media work with a great title. The drawing is superb and the work’s mix of materials conjures several possible interpretations simultaneously, so your eyes and mind are kept moving. The mysterious landscape feel is something I’ve always loved in surrealist works as they can employ the best of both modernist and classical approaches.In the adjoining two galleries the mix of modern and traditional can be seen in the works of Lana McGregor. She is a young collage artist born and working in Thunder Bay. In what I think is her best work, “Still Life on a Kitchen counter” the collage pieces of painted canvas work beautifully. The semi abstract incompleteness and sketch-like quality gives dynamism to an otherwise common still life subject of a teapot, glass of water, book, and grapes on a table. The colour combination is great and the composition is wonderful.
Many of the other works don’t appear to have as much thought put into them, or are not based on any observation of nature or thoughtful imagination, but as tossed off technical experiments; the grey being too grey for rocks and look like cut out construction paper pieces. This doesn’t help when the subject matter is not challenging.
TAKING HALLOWEEN UNDERGROUND: THE HUNGER CABARET
Definitely Superior Art Gallery
Chronicle Journal, Oct. 25, 2007
Article and Photos by Duncan WellerAn unparalleled slamming of events into one night is happening at Jack’s and Kilroy’s this Saturday. When asked, David Karasiewicz and Renee Terpstra, the organizers, butted horns attempting to determine what age group might most appreciate the unbelievable collection of 33 acts. Ages 17 to 50 is hardly a demographer’s category. This epic fundraiser for the underground alternative art scene through the Definitely Superior Art Gallery is for the dedicated and the curious, of any age. There is no target market. Anyone who likes anything experimental and original (no cover bands allowed!) is destined to have a memorable experience. I am unable to match the hyperbole of the advertising. But having attended such endogenous events – one in Victoria, B.C. in which artists branded one another and the disgusting and sweet smell of burning human flesh was in the air, I can only express my firm belief that this unique event should not be missed.
The hip-hop-under-the-radar-underground is the uncut blood diamond of the Thunder Bay retro art scene that sustains a youth culture in this city. The musical movers and shakers of the region will sift into the Hunger Cabaret, blow out a few diamonds, and then slide out again like some kind of magnetic cosmic creation. With seventeen live bands with names like Forever Dead, Faceless Hulk, Cosmic Granola, Adverse Vital Signs, and Makeshift Astronaut, you can begin to understand the difficulty of discerning genres. What is “horrobilly” or “sludge rock” or “grind metal” or “garage grime space rock”? Do you know? Do they know? Hip-hop itself is a stretch or inclusion of ten different musical styles that has only recently gained widespread popularity. The mixing perplexes music critics. Some love it. Others like Martha Boyles, author of Hole in our Sole, call it all “perverse modernism.” However, “out of grub street came Charles Dickens” is a phrase that suggests the possibility is very likely that you will be the first to see the next class act to make it big, to make it industrially huge. I have my eye on Jean-Paul-De Roover. I think he’ll be as good as, as influential as, Robert Fripp - never heard of King Crimson? Then you’re younger than I am. But if you have, you may want to go if only to make comparative notes, and rekindle the feeling of truly seeing something fresh.
Music isn’t all that’s offered. True to contemporary counter-culture the Hunger Cabaret will offer performance art. If you’re not sure what that is, think of a mix between WWE wrestling and a scene in a bodice ripping romance novel. What do you get? Why… Baroque Ladies Wrestling, of course. Performance art has essentially the same postmodern approach as contemporary music; everything is a wondrous and sometimes perplexing mix of styles. Think of a live act like belly dancing, and then think how it can be morphed with some other live act. You may end up with a VooDoo Doll Dance Performance, something the talented Helen Leaf Black will perform. Or you may get Dark Angel Messengers who give out cookies and treats. (It’s a Halloween event – by-the-way).
Top all this off with big screen projections, raffles, free candy, big costume prizes, and the lowest admission charge you could possibly ask for - for so many events in six hours (eight bucks for two venues!) and you get an EVENT. Last year boasted 650 people - this year, probably more. The list of sponsors is quite impressive and no doubt a large part of last years success. Doors open at 8pm. Get a costume. Go early. Go wild.
Confluens: Flowing Together, a decade of collaboration in ceramics and metal.
Well Tempered: The recent metal work of Linda & Marianne Brown
The Chronicle Journal: Oct. 7, 2007
Article and Photos by DuncanTwo surprisingly distinct and wonderful environments have been created at the Thunder Bay Art Gallery with works not generally exalted as bona fide art – small works of craft. Light, shadow and natural debris surround these works of craft adding importance and focus, encouraging the viewer to reflect on parts that make the miniscule so much more delightful to dip into - and so much more valuable as art. The two shows organized by curator, Glenn Allison, feature the works of local artist Linda Brown and her sister Marianne Brown, from Cowichan, B.C.. Their exhibit is in the central gallery for a show titled “Well Tempered.” From Red Deer, Alberta, internationally known Canadian artists Trudy Ellen Golley and husband, Paul Leathers are featured in the main gallery for a show titled “Confluens: Flowing Together.”
Awesome small surprises of precious detailing make each piece from both shows individually grand, with a few occasional bold statements; look for the phrase “…the delivery of beauty is the teeth of risk” in the “Confluens” show and you will be happily rewarded. Look for the results of risk and beauty made with the florets of the hydrangea plant in Linda’s vessels and you will be awestruck by the malleability of metal.
In Confluens, ceramic works by Trudy called Reliquaries are inhabited by miniature metal works by Paul. The combination of talents into these Reliquaries mimic ancient Stonehenge monuments and Neolithic homes of stone, complete with doorways, awnings, and peeling stucco walls. The inhabitants have the gall to advertise their wealth with small stands in the doorways displaying layers of plates of precious metals, as in one work, the colours and pattern repeat the lavender and green web-work detail of the stone home’s outer walls. On the artist’s part, this is a welcome deliberate flaunting of beauty and technique. And, look for the gold! The use of gold in many of these works intentionally throws reflected light onto the gallery walls; cutting through dark shadows, and creates interesting mirroring effects.
Spirals are always eye grabbers. The spiral, used here as symbolic of Chinese cloud patterns, is a theme that is never redundant, so looking for spirals becomes a delightful game to see how they are incorporated: as a precious item to be kept in a jewelry box, as a gathering of clouds, a wave when perpendicular, or a cliff of reflecting interiors when horizontal.
Made worthy by their environment, vessels and jewelry created by Linda and Marianne respectively, become valuable on a par with any other art form. The instillation of actual tree branches, pinecones, and paper leaves within plexiglass boxes give an otherworldly feel. You could only hope to stumble across such a find in the bush. It’s a refreshingly novel way to display craft works. Linda jauntily recounted what a trial it was to get the displays set up and the effort was well worth it. The encasing of the works add a protective quality to the show, as if to suggest that when the lights go out at night at the gallery the security lasers are turned on.
The vessels are hammered and folded into shapes where the natural creases in the folds seem skin-like, often contradicting what metal usually suggests – strength. In these works delicacy intrudes so much into the metal that the details, the lines and etched elements, etherealize the works. This effect is also achieved with Marianne’s jewelry, slung across branches, at first seems ingloriously cast aside, but also suggest that the owners of the works have fled, and we are seeing only a portion of the time-encased results of some great transition of people of an ancient culture forced to dispense with their possessions to save their lives.
Although the works in both shows are for sale, they don’t appear to be, and this is a compliment in itself. Since the majority of craft I’ve ever seen has a price tag near and is usually displayed at a kiosk or fair, the works in these two shows appear cherished, owned or previously owned by someone who has great taste, and loves the work.
LUSH: Pajama House Party
Hosted by Definitely Superior Art Gallery and LU Radio - 102.7 FM
Argus: Lakehead University Student Newspaper, 2007
Article and Photos by Duncan WellerStereotyped divisions of people get wrecked at a pajama party. A few unkempt baseball-capped townies, surprised to be at a party without AC/DC playing or a hockey game on a television, stood against a wall in the red lit lounge absorbed in the image of the alien mix of people in all manner of dress. The townies looked pleased, amazed that there was an alternative to the T.Bay antilifestyle. Front man Eugene Hutz of the New York City gypsy punk band Gogol Bordello who stopped by with his band after their gig at Warp 9 refused to comment on Defsup’s fundraising party, stating, “I can’t believe people would rather play with a hula-hoop than come to our show,” leaving the distinct impression that he was upset he didn’t get a bigger turnout because Defsup’s LUSH party had stolen a potentially bigger audience from him. I was surprised everyone turned up so late. I arrived shortly after nine expecting a crowd, debating whether to write an article at all, as there were only about thirty die-hards present and only two serious dancers. (Defsup’s last party numbered more than 200). Then, at 11:15, WHAM! In strolled the extras. The party took off. The huge projected images of Japanese anime and the visual techno-crit film Naqoyqatsi now made sense. The austere basement slash gallery feel of the alternative art lair became the throbbing pulsing dance center it was intended to be. Surprisingly, the gallery was fulfilling one of art’s most basic functions – humanizing the world. Although there was a conspicuous lack of art on the walls, no doubt to protect the works, it was the partygoers who made the show visual and kinetic. People became walking dancing works of art. A few art students from LU, along with local artists, were in retro pajama costume. The shiny kimono crew glistened. Ram had on his judo outfit. A very tall forester with a PhD was fully pajamasized, as were a few engineering students. Overall it was the women who really got into the party. They ruled the bordello, piling themselves and sprawling on to the floor as a result of losing their balance in games of twister. Despite the seeming mayhem, not one person was visibly intoxicated which lead me to believe that when the people and the party are fun, alcohol loses its commanding role as a necessary lubricator. And with three and a half rooms to choose from, a partygoer could stroll from one to the next finding a variety of entertainments. Rap stars and DJs kept a pulse going in the small back room. A good trick for anyone opening a club is to have at least one area where people can talk, where the music isn’t so loud you get hoarse from yelling, get a guy’s name wrong, and suggest something you weren’t intending. A key aspect of this party - communication was possible.
LU Radio and the Definitely Superior Art Gallery put on a great event with enough events continuously in motion to keep you on your feet and awake till whenever it ended. (I left early at 2am) There were groove drummers, six DJs to offer samples of electric music, ranting and poetic rap artists, all in an atmosphere both jazzy and comfortable enough to make you think you were in a friend’s basement. Two rooms offered projected images to view. Pillows, couches and bathtubs kept people comfortable and there was enough room for more than fifty people to gyrate and shake.
Of important note is how valuable this kind of venue is to the Thunder Bay community. The multifunctional use of a gallery I’ve seen attempted in Toronto and Vancouver where you would think hundreds of people would turn up. They generally fail miserably partly because of the snob factor associated with galleries and lack of inventiveness, which is surprising for artists. The gang at Defsup and LU Radio not only succeeded but have been asked by people in the community to continue hosting these kinds of events. And so they shall.
LUSU elections
Printed in the Argus: Student newspaper, 2007
Article and Photos by Duncan WellerFor future reference if you want to win a position in LUSU my advice would be to speak with a voice of conviction about your platform, and speak in favour of democracy generally in absolutely every class you possibly can, in front of as many students as you possibly can. A good poster posted all over campus will help with a voter’s decision, for when students are about to tick the ballot, your face will appear on a sheet taped next to the ballot box. If you happen to be Isabelle Paniatowski, our newly elected LUSU president, hanging upside down in a tree as part of your campaign doesn’t hurt. As one female English major put it when she saw her poster, “She doesn’t look stuffy or part of a high school clique. She looks really approachable and innovative.” However, a poster can hurt too. As another female student pointed out (actually several) when first seeing Chris Shorrock’s poster, “I feel like I have to cover up, like he’s looking at my breasts.”
Unlike federal or provincial elections the question of party identity – are you liberal, conservative, NDP – doesn’t come to mind. Therefore a more partisan vote is possible, which allows for those students (who haven’t left high school – mentally) to vote for who’s cute, who wears nicer cloths, or who was the only one to come to their classroom. Personality and conviction will rule over platforms and promises these days as many students are generally quite busy and are ever more worried about their own skins - their own futures, which is perfectly understandable. As tuition costs rise, the cost of living increases, and job options become fewer, extracurricular activities become less of an option. Bread lines have become common on campuses. University pubs across Canada have closed as students mingle less frequently, as they have less money for beer and fun food, and have become more dedicated to selecting a career path than finding value in “enhancing and enlarging their mental and moral nature.” So what is often described as apathy is probably more practicality. Most students would enjoy being more connected to their school and to other students and engaged in a healthy atmosphere that will make for a memorable experience at university, but the economy of the country is not allowing them to partake in what should be a natural process. When the average life expectancy of a job in Canada is only three years, (according to Statistics Canada) stress is the culprit. And just when the voices of the young are needed to express their feelings about the state of their world, they are simply too busy, to torn up, too distracted, and wishfully thinking that luck and a that little piece of paper called a degree will make them successful in life after university.
Where apathy will have its most devastating effect is not so much in the student body, but with the very people who could encourage you to get active. These people are of course your newly elected members of LUSU, the newly elected staff of the Argus, board members, etc. If they think there is no point in attempting to convince you that you should get involved because they think you’re apathetic, then there’s no end to how low things can go. If you as a card carrying student can get involved, if you can find some time, there is no reason why the morass that effects the rest of the country can be alleviated here.
The Ramayana: The Lotus flower of the East
Produced by Thunder Bay S.O.U.L. (Social Organization for Unity & Love)
Directed by Bhaktimarga Swami
Article and Photos by Duncan WellerTheatre! Living breathing human beings on stage! Whereas a movie is a product in a canister, infinitely reproducible and shown simultaneously the world over allowing the lead actor to sip his martini on a tawny beach in Cabo San Lucas, an audience for theatre is keenly aware that before them are live actors having to deal not only with portraying heroes, heroines, animals, gods, spirits, devils, and trees, but having to conquer stage fright and memorize their lines, movements, and dances in order to win the hearts of the audience. I believe many people avoid theatre because they empathize too much with the actors on stage – feel for them when they fall or flub their lines. No audience member likes to squirm in their seat because they’ve witnessed an actor’s shortcomings or the multifarious stage mishaps that can occur. This I think is a primary reason why support for theatre is more difficult to obtain. These human beings, these live actors, are too close to us. A film is safe. In a movie theatre we can say what we want, boo openly at the screen and laugh mockingly at the lack of verisimilitude. When live actors are before us and slip up, we wince because we feel the actor’s pain, or feel guilty for having laughed or thought ill of a person on stage who exists with us in the same room. In a theatre an audience has a natural empathetic desire to see people brave enough to expose themselves on stage succeed and excel without embarrassing themselves.
There are tip-offs that the production of Ramayana, held over a week ago, was not going to be a Stratford-like production. A) we are in Thunder Bay; B) the ticket cost for students was five dollars; C) the production was held in the Bora Laskin building, here on campus. However, and to illustrate a point I’m going to make, this production of Ramayana had so much heart and humour that for all its faults I couldn’t help but love it, and I can’t wait for the next production.
The upcoming Spring production is entitled, The Anishnawbe/ Native Seven Grandfathers. And if it is anything like Ramayana, it will fail only for audience members whose expectations is built on the belief that huge productions are supposed to be attempted only by seasoned professionals. Yes, the director’s reach outstrips his grasp, but with multiple attempts to attain something leaning towards enlightenment through theatre he may not get harmonic convergence, but he may delight an audience to rapture. What I saw in Ramayana was an enjoyment in the production by the actors on stage that was infectious. Some audience members were visibly uncomfortable where the play faltered, and I snorted a laugh here and there, but most of the time I felt what I was meant to feel. Many scenes were surprisingly affecting. Although we were entertained by a sudden intrusion of what felt like a public school play where child actors lifted their monkey masks to have a look at the audience and smile at their parents, there were also scenes of terror, pathos, beauty, and courage that bigger productions have a hard time pulling off. There is a terribly conflicting vision of a white man (a very white Cameron Willis) with his white belly and monkey-minstrel brown face playing Hanuman who battles a huge monster in a cloud produced by a fog machine. With dramatic light effects and fantastic music (albeit far too loud at times) the battle and dance sequences added action and speed to a play whose plot is a simple as a Disney film. The narrated voices gave a mythic feel to the play, but at times I wanted more voice from the actors themselves. The trees were amazing. Although a simple invention, they made the entire set move, and added character. The love interest between lead actors Nesan Tharmalingam as Ram and Shelly Phair as Sita was played coolly and deftly to be realistic rather than saccharine sweet. They were more believable as people in a mythic play. They were the straight characters in a sea of otherworldly events and creatures. The underworld rose up under the lead of Ravana, played by the commanding Vasi Thanapulu. The multitude of dancing creatures that backed him were wild and unkempt and fun to watch. The children were endearing as monkeys in a monkey army, but totally unbelievable in terms of the story. Adults playing the monkeys in more realistic or outlandish outfits would have lent the play more credibility and could have allowed for a battle scene of two armies, monkeys versus the underworld creatures!
Fantasy and imagination was of paramount importance in this play. The exotic, the otherworldly and the mystic was infused with pop culture pizzazz leaving me with great expectations for the next production. If you would like to get involved with future productions, S.O.U.L is actively seeking interested parties. Write to lusu.stage@gmail.com.
Collection X
Arts Access symposium discusses the liaison between artists, galleries, and the community at large.
Article and Photos by Duncan WellerA question for those in the art world from the lay public has been “what can you do for us?” It is a fair question since artists and their supporters typically demand the public get themselves educated about art, support them financially, know at least a few names of contemporary artists, and appreciate what value artists have for society. People who seem quite happy to get their culture from television, movies, and sports wonder aloud, and often with divisive criticism, why so much money is spent supporting artists who seem to be concerned only with self-expression and not much beyond. Exacerbating the problem is a popular culture filled with cynical humourists who enjoy sarcasm and exposing irony everywhere; who have little patience for the snobbery associated with the art world. So contemporary art, with all its inherent challenges to be understood, has been the butt of the cartoonist’s pen since the 1800s. The father of modernism, the ego-giant, Gustav Courbet, was considered technically incompetent. A popular cartoonist in France mimicked the stiffness of his work by drawing child-like stick figures, mocking Courbet’s understanding of Reality, with a big R.
The lack of faith in the art world has grown in equal ratio to the loss of traditional functions of art - primarily the ability to beautify and celebrate a community. One result is the explosion of the popular arts, enormously entertaining, but a huge distraction away from one’s own community and local values.
Another result is that the once defensive art scene, has of late, become reflective. Initiatives have been devised to better legitimize the arts, to bring the arts back into the community. Endeavors like Arts Access, with a symposium currently underway at the Thunder Bay Art Gallery is an attempt to restore public faith in the arts; explore functions and new ways for galleries to partner with the communities they represent.
Arts Access is a partnership of art galleries in Toronto, Thunder Bay, Brantford/Six Nations and Kitchener Waterloo where it is “the artists role to build relationships, lead workshops, organize exhibitions, connect public and community collections and make the completed work accessible to a larger audience through the Arts Access website, “Collection X”. There’s a lot to see at www.collectionx.museum. You will find lists and images of previous projects. I particularly like the “misfortune cookies” and many examples of visual art. The site is a bit daunting in its variety, but anyone interested in developing community arts based projects will find the site instructive. Sadly, like so many attempts to engage the community, a website is not the best method of communication. Like a flyer delivered to your front door, a website can be discarded forever more. What will keep people interested is an active site that inspires people to return again and again.
Gillian McIntyre from the Art Gallery of Ontario explained that many projects are the result of community groups proposing projects and working with a roster of artists under the Arts Access umbrella. Facilitated by the galleries involved, the artists bring their abilities out of the gallery and into the community.
Locally this liaison created a very worthwhile project called the “Shooting Gallery.” Orchestrated by local artist Derek Khani and social worker Leanna Marshall, disadvantaged youth from the Ka-Na-Chi-Hih Centre and the Biidaajiwun Community Outreach Centre taught young adults basic photography techniques. They produced some truly wonderful landscape images and portraits. Many can be seen on the website mentioned. Khani was particularly invigorated by the results. Not only has he imparted basic knowledge but has created a legacy by giving the young adults a worthwhile hobby. He was particularly satisfied that one young man was inspired to make a career out of it.
Overall, as Gillian explains, the galleries are attempting to increase their relevance by enacting a different model of working with the public, fostering creativity in communities. This helps to increase public responsiveness to the galleries and dissolves some of the opinion that the many in the arts are hostile to the public.
Powerhouse Abstract: The Art of Guy Dufresne
Article and Photos by Duncan WellerEntering Lot 66 on Port Arthur’s downtown Court Street you may get the impression that a curator from the National Gallery stopped by and generously donated some of the galleries best modernist works. The energy, richness, and size of the abstract acrylic paintings have such a command presence that they take over the room. They demand contemplation.
These new works by local artist Guy Dufresne suit their lounge setting. They are two-dimensional explosions, simultaneously expansive and contained. Nearly indistinguishable from oils they are rich paintings that complement the deep maize coloured walls. The paintings are dark, yet energetically moody. Their only drawback is that they suck up some of the minimal light and seem to sink deeply into the walls in an atmosphere that is sexy and sophisticated.
Where there is light from the few small fixtures, and when seen in daylight, the intermixed colours of the paintings burst forth. There are subtleties in the deftly handled paint that have the professional artist’s love of richness and movement.
A series of larger works reveal the experimental side of an artist falling in love and exploring possible permutations of a visual theme. Guy refers to the central white vertical streaks in these paintings as “canals.” The intention is to explore the basic properties of painting; movement, texture, balance, colour. In their near nonrepresentational impressionistic manner they could be considered classic abstract art, art that took hold back in the 1950s where emotional expression dominated over recognizable images or heady theory. This is the kind of modernist-purist painting requiring skill and daring, where the intentions are obvious instead of inferred, unlike many post-modernist works relying solely on ideology. Guy’s paintings speak of endurance and talent, not overwrought thought. One result is that a sense of play permeates the work.
But the paintings overall reflect a deeper mood, an adult reflection in ones’ own life. One painting conflicted by the desire to play, and the need to reflect is called “Ice Meets Metal,” a phrase from a Tom Cochrane song. The de Kooning feel is accomplished by the contrast of beautiful blues with bloody slashes of red. At once playful and shocking the painting looks like it might be a detail of a crime scene.
Guy describes his working methods as intense. To accomplish this current show at Lot 66 he spent two months of powerhouse painting with both brushes and palette knives. He says he has no fear “slamming down the paint”, which results in being covered in various spatters of colour, as evidenced by his work cloths and chaotic studio. Like most good artists he “zones out” when he works and doesn’t wait for inspiration to hit him. He sets to work, attacks the white canvas without fear of it, and demands results from the effort.
Within the swirls of paint there are impressions of his favorite influences – namely trees, landscapes, cityscapes, water and sky. A few of his favorite artists include Monet, Gauguin, and Gerhard Richter. In terms of style he is all over the map, but his various approaches are all identifiably his. Broken horizontal lines and streaks in the bigger paintings suggest a horizon lines. Impressionist cityscapes are similar to the landscapes. A love of intermingling colours and direction can be seen in all his paintings.
Unlike many artists, he enjoys talking with friends while he paints. His affability is a quality that helps him in his regular job as an advertising representative for this newspaper. His layout and design skills, partly acquired by his artistic background, help to build trust with his clients. His clean-cut good looks, professional attire and manner won’t give you the impression that he has an artistic temperament. People are genuinely surprised that he considers himself an artist at heart. His black suits might be a hint.
And like so many artists Guy has the fantasy of living through his paintings, leaving a legacy to his children and the community. His says his next steps are to market to larger cities, find a gallery, an agent, and hold more shows of his work. Subsequently, more powerhouse painting is in order.
Love A Mosque in New York City
Written for the Chronicle Journal, but not printed.
Article by Duncan Weller. Photo by Ms. Ebadati in 1999.Last month commentator Mindelle Jacobs argued that the Islamic Cordoba House be allowed to exist in the shadow of the former twin towers only as an interfaith centre with a 9/11 memorial, but not solely as a mosque. Funnily enough, the Cordoba House was already destined to have an interfaith section and a memorial. Still, Jacobs had argued, its location would be in bad taste.
Jacobs tasteless commentary on Muslims inspired me to pull out my copy of “The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Iran,” where I began to reflect on my relationships with two groups of Muslims – Persians I knew and loved, primarily from Iran; a group of young men in Toronto, and a family dominated by women in North Vancouver.
I met my first group of Persians when I left Thunder Bay in the early nineties. Jafaar was a roommate of Lisa and Shawn’s – who I knew from Lakehead University. Jafaar barely spoke English, but picked it up after a few months with ESL courses and help from friends. He spoke and wrote Japanese fluently, having lived in Japan for four years. He taught me how to use chopsticks.
Jafaar was a refugee. In Iran he would have been tortured and jailed for distributing anti government pamphlets. He took part in student protests and saw many of his classmates gunned down by government security. In one protest he survived by jumping behind a steel pole in the street when the shooting began. He tells a fascinating story of how he survived the Iran/Iraq war. He happened to be in a shoe store when the owner told him that a special truck was coming to the local square to pick up conscripts. Service was mandatory, so, taking the advice, he ran home to say goodbye to his parents, and ran to the square, which was filled with Mercedes Benzes and Rolls Royces. The truck took the wealthy sons of the community to Tehran where they would be kept from fighting on the front lines. Jafaar spent the war working mostly as a bartender and waiter to officers in Tehran.
Jafaar’s Iranian friends in Toronto also fought in the war. Feradun told only humourous stories, while Saied sadly recounted throwing limbless bodies onto the back of a flatbed truck. Hassan just shook his head and refused to talk about his experiences. Jafaar got drunk one night at a party. In mid-laughter he dramatically burst into continual sobbing. When he began to scream I had to hold him and reassure him that he was safe. He was overcome with memories of friends he’d lost and the violence he saw during the war and during student protests.
Jafaar’s humour and smile were infectious. He was incredibly thoughtful and felt he should study philosophy. He ended up graduating from a Medical Information Technology program. He quickly made friends, and other Iranians were drawn to him. Hassan became my roommate and was the most religious of any Iranian I knew. He prayed quietly in his room and was such a great cook his friends would find excuses to drop in around mealtime. Hassan was one of the most generous and gentle men I’ve ever met.
After a trip to Victoria, my Iranian friends took my advice and we all moved from Toronto to Victoria. In Victoria they quickly made new friends, obtained girlfriends of different races and happily settled.
When I moved to North Vancouver I met Azarnoosh. She was a cashier at Future Shop (the entire chain was owned by an Iranian). At that time Azarnoosh had been in Canada only three months. She spoke Farsi, Russian, Arabic, and broken English. Her English improved at an amazing pace. After a few dates she introduced me to her relatives who lived in Woodcroft, an area of five apartment towers arranged in a semi-circle cordoned off by incredible trees. The Iranians jokingly referred to Woodcroft as “mini-Tehran”, as the occupants were 75% Iranian.
Power brokers of the family were women. Most of the Iranian women I met were headstrong and determined to get an education, a job and/or husband – of Iranian or Canadian descent. Many had graduated in Iran with science or medical degrees. At parties the women cooked traditional foods while wearing dresses and high heels. Some men wore ties. I had to ditch my frumpy hick clothes so as not to stand out. I learned how to pronounce the “hei” sound in order to say Kheili Khoshmazeh (very delicious) in Farsi. I fell in love with saffron. They introduced me to Pablo Neruda, the benefits of boiling meat, jumping fires on a beach, Persian dance, manners and dress, and a kind of affable honestly familiar to Americans. “You’re fat!” my good friend and neighbour Arezoo announce dramatically one day, concerned about my health.
I also got to know that Iranian culture is a mixture of many others, Russian, Asian, Jewish, and American. Every fad to hit North America quickly made it to Iran, although they were restricted to celebrating popular culture indoors. They were break dancing when we were break dancing. Some put ketchup on everything.
I saw Googoosh in concert in Vancouver. Googoosh hadn’t performed in thirty years and voluntarily stayed in Iran where many other artists and performers were murdered during the 1979 revolution. The concert, held in a huge hockey rink, was packed with the most beautiful and well-dressed men and women I’d ever seen. During the performance, the woman sitting next to me cried at the opening of every song.
And lately, the air – news static – is filled with worry of an encroaching otherworldly culture that we are encouraged to think might just be out to get us. Here comes the Islamist Jihad. Just this week, I rented a DVD for the TV series The West Wing. The first episode of the third season illustrated the difference between Islam and Jihad. The apt statement was made: “Jihad is to Islam as the KKK is to Christianity.” And the next day I read that Christian and Catholic evangelists are currently inciting the murder of tens of thousands of Africans. These evangelists are pushing African governments to rid their countries of homosexuals. So, should we condemn the building of churches here in Canada in protest? Or target these nut-jobs directly?
Proximity of abuse becomes irrelevant to blame when the crimes committed are related only by name and not actions and certainly not by actions of a much larger group who are peaceful. The jihadists, right-wing evangelists, orthodox Jews, etc. are not the same people who peacefully practice their religion in our country, their country, or who work hard with NGOs to save children and families around the world. There will always be extremist right wing/left wing radicals who would love to have us think they have widespread affiliations, when they are shunned or outright disowned by the very groups to whom they claim affiliation. They are the dividers, the levelers.
We don’t have to buy into their hatred. The best display against the Jihadists would be to allow the building of a mosque right next to the very spot where the radicals intended to make a statement. The statement we can make is: We are better than you. And it would be the Christian thing to do. It would be the secular thing to do. It’s what Benjamin Franklin would do. “They that can give up essential liberty to obtain a little temporary safety deserve neither liberty nor safety.”
