The A Word

To save you love or hate Picasso is irrelevant: his artistic influence is still relevant, and will be long after we’re all dead. He was prolific and priapic (my favourite in this show is his linocut Exposition Vallauris with a “randy” goat head) and often political. His massive Guernica is necessary to genuine art history, to speak to what Art should be: speaking truth to power. A favourite story is that when he painted that horrific, massive work about the Luftwaffe bombing into oblivion a Spanish town during the Spanish civil war, some self-important smug gov’t lackey, asking if he’d done this offensive thing, confronted Picasso. Picasso responded that they had done it, not him.

At the U of S in the Kenderdine Gallery space in the Agriculture Building  (you may know it as Grant Devine’s Folly, and I think our current incarnation of Devine shot an election ad there last time, too….) right now you can see some of his prints (many were very recently donated by Frederick Mulder), along with a smattering of works by his contemporaries. This show will give you a taste, and perhaps a hunger, to see more of these artists. And when the Remai Art Gallery is here, works by these people can actually come here more often. But Picasso and his contemporaries, curated by Leah Taylor (who most recently brought us The Mechanical Self in the same space), is on display now, and runs until the end of June.

Some of these names will be familiar to you if you have a passing acquaintance with the western “canon”: Fernand Léger’s Femmes et Perroquet, Georges Braque’s La Poete, and two works by Kurt Schwitters (untitled, but lovely little collaged works, from someone who was sometimes a Dadaist, sometimes something else) are on my list of works to “relocate” to my own collection.

It’s sometimes put forth that Picasso may have stolen Léger or Braque’s best ideas, but ideas are fluid, in creative spaces – and we’re not talking about karaoke modernism here. This was one of the more exciting periods in the late 19th, early 20th century where the rules were being broken and remade, revisited and reviled (just like in the political, or economic, or racial spheres of the time – Picasso often referenced “primitive” or African art much to others’ chagrin…). It’s necessary to look at these works and think of Guernica and WWI and II, but also the social / political upheaval induced by the rise of science and how it challenged the domination of religion and other long held, unassailable ideas. Einstein’s notion of time and space influences concepts of depicting our reality, as the Renaissance notion of picture box space loses any dominance, or relevance. You can see this in the works by Marc Chagall included in this show, which often mixed past, present and memory in his practice.

But some of the artists here also look backwards: Salvador Dali’s Head of Rembrandt is a well deserved homage to one of the finest artists in European history, but also indicates the lineage within which Dali – and Picasso – exist. Picasso’s images of bullfighting – an intensely nationalist subject, that Francisco Goya also favoured – are along one wall here, also favourites of mine, in the show. A Los Toros I, III and IV are good examples of how printmaking is a drawing based medium with its rough, scrappy lines and perfect capture of the movement, frantic actions and danger of the bullfighting scenes. Drawing is an immediate medium, done to capture gestures and movements: and the strong history of printmaking in Europe is obvious here, as it was a means not just to disseminate ideas through text but also image. There’s a significant argument that some of the political cartoons printed during the lead up to the French Revolution inflamed the masses as much as the indifference of the political elite (so who’s the bull, and who’s the toreador, one might ask…).
But you can also forget all that, if you like: there are several works by Picasso here, such as Modéle et Sculpture Surréaliste, or Untitled, that focus more on the beauty of the human – specifically female – form, or Nature Morte au Casse – Croûte II, depicting that mainstay of art history, the still life. Artists need not always hit you over the head with ideas, though sometimes ideas are couched in images whose subtlety permeates….

Picasso and his contemporaries runs at the University of Saskatchewan, in the Kenderdine gallery space in the Agriculture building, and I haven’t even mentioned Oskar Kokoschka, or Henry Moore, also in this show. It’s always good to see what real Modernism was, and to then be able to understand how we define ourselves in relation to it, and not get all caught up in the “isms” of the moment … and that’s why I must end by thanking Frederick Mulder, as well, for his generosity, as he, as much as Leah Taylor, made this show happen.

….and I’ll look to post last week’s radio show in the next day or so: my apologies for the delay, but many other things are on the go, and I have a bit of a Spring cold. However, I wanted to post these two links, regarding the ongoing battle with the Sask Film Tax Credit, as these events will be happening immediately. There are two events, and you can check out the information you need here and here.

I also wanted to post these links, from the Star Phoenix and from Metro News: as frankly, I’m a little tired of how incompetence seems only acceptable in government, or in academia, and these are linked by how the average person PAYS for it, literally and metaphorically. Sometimes I think that I’ve taken the notion of “Agitate! Agitate! Agitate!” from Frederick William Douglas a little too much to heart…and then I hear something that demands a response.

I would end with the simple assertion that government needs to be reminded to whom they are accountable: for without accountability, there’s no reason to pretend the system need be kept….an idea I have been obsessed with ever since seeing the works of Karine Giboulo at the Mendel.

This week’s radio show covers several topics : Gatekeepers, which opens at AKA Gallery this Friday, Stéphanie Chabot’s Me, My Hat and My Blue Hand, and the Rally in support of the Remai Art Gallery, this Saturday at 11 AM.

You can listen to this week’s show here: enjoy.

An image from Stéphanie Chabot exhibition at PAVED

It’s hard to simply enjoy the lively beauty on display in Paper Dolls, curated by Ann Koval, at the Mendel Art Gallery. I blame two people (the aforementioned curator, and June J. Jacobs, whose Shift Shaping at the Affinity Gallery seduced me, and showed clearly that feminism can – and must – be contradictory and challenging). But ideologically based exhibitions are often problematic…Koval spoke often of feminism in her curator’s talk, and any serious discussion of Paper Dolls must acknowledge the larger conversation about feminism and her positioning (literal and otherwise) of the artwork. The artists in this show have all contributed works that respond, react – and challenge  – the ideas of ‘paper dolls’, and the significant cultural baggage they carry, or that’s put upon them. A feminist discourse is the basis of this show, but what “feminist” means, has meant, means to different people (men and women, those in-between), and what it might – or could – mean in the future suffuses the space. Feminism should be ideologically promiscuous (if I am given to speak my opinion on it), as there are as many feminisms as there are people.

Paper Dolls takes its genesis from the ones constructed and played with by Sylvia Plath whose effect on the cultural landscape is still prevalent and relevant. Koval’s states that “The show is designed to create a dynamic within the gallery where the works of art connect by theme, materiality, or the concept of play. Many of the artists explore the simple yet complex spatial and temporal dimensionality of the cutout in different mediums. Meaning is often shifted depending on the scale or use of material.”

The tiny dolls, fragile in delicate cases, are at the front of the gallery. They are as marked by their epoch as Plath’s writing, though the latter often strives past the stereotypes of the former. Their fragility and loaded meanings make me want to rush ahead, to mention some of the best work in the show. Cybèle Young has made tiny-framed dioramas, entirely in Japanese paper, with titles as witty and sad as the scenarios she illustrates. One shows a dress, with a scaffolding next to it, titled Restoration Project, while another shows an explosion of curled and “teased” bits of paper, with a tiny curling iron, hopefully named It’s worth it this time. Can you understand why I reference Jacobs’ multiple “shifts”, wardrobes hopeful and despairing?

Several works “flirt” with the contradictory meanings of feminism: Jeannie Thib’s Double is decorative in laser cut veneered wood with metal hinges, and in their use of patterns speak to domestic spaces, but she also spoke of the (perhaps bastardized) Modernist legacy manifest in her work. Lynne Yamamoto’s Silhouettes (silk tissue paper penetrated by steel pins) are delicate dolls covering one wall, as they move and flutter, and the night of the reception were often in danger of being damaged by various gallery goers’ “wakes”, tangling together. The pale blue wall they are all impaled upon further suggests their stasis and vulnerability. But this is a work that was ruined for me by the curator’s talk, who spoke of it as a work that seems to exclude a male viewer, or tar many of ‘us’ with a negative brush.

Several other artists comprise this show, including the infamous Cindy Sherman (a video work that is almost too fun, too enjoyable, and made me double-check that it was her work), Anna Torma, Ed Pien and Barb Hunt. The latter two are worth your time, as Ed Pien has an installation work that has many similarities to his wonderful installation Haven, this one called Revel, that was at the Mendel some time ago. Barb Hunt presents works that are massive and unnerving, with some of that aforementioned contradiction and challenge. Her works – Lace Dress, Small Dresses and Orchid Dress – dominate a wall, larger than life and made of plasma-cut cold rolled steel – can anything be less ‘paper doll’ or effeminate than that? But they take on a maternal power, as each has patterns cut within them that are delicate and detailed. Sometimes these are smaller ‘versions’ of the larger dress, as in Small Dresses, or sometimes they are patterns that could easily be transferred to a ‘real’ dress, to be worn by ‘real’ women…or a paper doll dress that Plath could have put on one of her dolls, back in 1945 or ’46.

This is an exhibition that troubles me: and it also enthralls me, and I’ve been to see it about five times, in the first two weeks it was here, and I will be going to see it again and again. My criticisms are something that should be considered, in this show, but also – like Koval’s statements – can be checked at the door. Paper Dolls has its foundation on not just the dolls of Plath’s childhood games, but also on her works and ideas, and her influence has inspired contradictory ideas to this day. Paper Dolls is a show that may annoy, or antagonize or awe you, but Koval’s show is a proposition to consider.

…this is what I see postered up around the downtown. I don’t remember it from the day before, so we’ve got some intrepid people in the city. I wonder if the respective parties will attempt to sue them for using the party symbols…..just re read that last line and thought I might be in a totalitarian state.

Let’s see how long these stay up in the city, and more importantly, if they receive any media coverage.

And the same way that the senior photography students, under the tutelage of the excellent Karla Griffin are doing a show, senior printmaking students under the eye of Patrick Bulas (who IS the printmaking department at the U of S, and the community is especially lucky to have him in it) are also doing a show. Here’s the invitation, and all you need to know.

You can check out work by the senior photography students in the Art and Art History Department this upcoming week.

Their instructor, Karla Griffin, received a teaching excellence award this year, and they also benefited from the knowledge of Barb Reimer, as the photography technician, and based on some of the work from recent BFA exhibitions, this looks to be engaging.

Just a quick note: I often post articles I’ve written for Planet S here, but in response to a reader’s question, I post MY edit of it here, not the Planet S edit. This means you get a bit of a different edge, here and there, with the A Word version – or all the insults that are edited from the Planet S version are here for your enjoyment. So, enjoy.

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I often lack faith in the “Art” world. Many times I find myself utterly disappointed. But while the worst are full of passionate intensity and the best lack all conviction, a few renew my troubled faith. For example, when Ellen Moffat commented that her amazing work from PAVED needed a home, I greedily envisioned it in my apartment. And Shauna McCabe’s Rural Readymade at the College Art Galleries is sexy and smart, playing upon both ideas of art history and with a good dollop of immediacy and irreverence. I’ve praised previous curatorial efforts by McCabe (Formerly Exit Five) for their consideration of both beauty and intent, or (to again quote the inestimable Bob Boyer) works that are both well made and meaningful. This is a strong show.

The works are both part of the touring initiative and incorporating local components: not a big fan of the local components, but it’s well intended. Of the works that came from the first incarnation of this show in P.E.I, Cape Spear by Will Gill is among the best of these: it’s silly, and inane and beautiful, and I feel that I’m good to imitate it this summer, in the river here and that the artist would heartily approve. It’s a brief video that shows balloons that are lit from within catapulted into the frothing dark ocean, shining and hilarious and irrelevant, but also speaking to the “readymade” idea of beauty everywhere, in our everyday, if we just pay attention. I might add that a recent public art work in Calgary involve thousands of glowing orbs flowing down the river, and brief moments of joy and beauty are invaluable in our lives, as we got about our days.

Other works speak to the immediacy of beauty in our surrounding, through the idea of “readymade”. Marcel Duchamps is a god of the art world for his idea of the “readymade” – designating an everyday object as art to indicate that our ideas of “art” are more ephemeral than physical (or defendable), in that a urinal often requires more technical skill than what we see in that elusive beast, a U of S Faculty show. Or, more clearly, my favourite sculptors are reforming Model T Fords or making ceramic casts of engines and such – the latter being Clint Neufeld, one of the featured artists in Rural Readymade. His works are in the display case as well as the lower gallery: and like Janet Wright Cheney’s Coy Wolves, the literal materials contrast the shapes they mimic. The Coy Wolves look more like refined gypsies, with the taxidermy forms decked out as though on a bingo date, velvety and inviting some petting or scratching. American Beauty and SeaBreeze Dynaflow, by Neufeld, have such pretty names, for such pretty engine bits.

Other artists simply have an eye and an awareness of one’s immediate areas, like a whole series of readymades, or a “readymade landscape” (not to be confused with the beige, almost Stalinist landscapes of the downtown). Norma Jean MacLean does rough paintings of abandoned hovels that are lovely and poignant, with names like Lot 31 and Coleman suggesting emptiness and poverty. These make an uneasy pairing with Doug Lewis’ works downstairs, such as Drive In, with its blank old time movie screen, so pristinely blank and abandoned, like it’s never been used at all….

But here’s a good point to sample the curator’s words, and McCabe has demonstrated in the past an economy and focus in her statements that other curators should envy:

The effectiveness of the “readymade” has centred upon its probing of a key tension and confusion – between what is, and what is not, art. This exhibition will feature work by a number of contemporary artists who explore the mutability of interpretation and meaning through an investigation of the idea of the readymade in contemporary experience. Focusing on everyday surroundings where the use and adaptation of found materials are deeply engrained, the work of these artists playfully and adeptly blurs registers – between the mundane and aesthetic, low-tech and no-tech, found and familiar. The collective vernacular that emerges in the Rural Readymade is one that speaks of an agile and persistent drive towards the creative reimagination of art and everyday life.

Rural Readymade is another show (like past ones such as Peter Smith’s You May Find Yourself, or Animal by Corinna Ghaznavi, or The Mechanical Self by Leah Taylor) that makes a trip to the U of S campus worthwhile : perhaps when the art department is finally, mercifully shut down, all its money can be spent on exhibitions at the College Gallery, for more work and exhibitions like this one.

Nope, not a joke, people, though it sounds like one. If – a large IF – the Heritage Minister is not shining us on, than isn’t this an interesting thing, in light of the Wall government’s decision in light of the Saskatchewan Film Tax Credit?

To experience June Jacobs Shift Shaping is akin to walking into a woman’s closet: and I mean a genuine, “mature” woman, not so much in terms of age, but in terms of multiple aspects of self and facets of being that are more intimate and varied, perhaps wonderfully contradictory. Others might be protection against the outside world (Self Preservation, for example), like disguises or shields. Considering some of the comments and discourse around women these days, here and to the south, protection may be required.

The exhibition at the Affinity Gallery, at the Saskatchewan Craft Council, is a rare display of many of Jacobs’ works, and there are recurring motifs. Many of these fabric works share a common “dress” form, but these are simply a base to build upon, a common genesis or reference. Many of the works are beautiful, inviting you to touch, but as so often happens when I visit the Affinity Gallery (as I joked to Les Potter, one of the people responsible for this excellent show) I had to clench my hands, to avoid feeling (“groping”?) everything in sight. This would be inappropriate, as I would also think that these are proxies for Jacobs, like the aforementioned analogy to clothing, but also because the empty “dresses” that are the basis of so many works suggest by an absence a body within them.

But I want to feel the bits and pieces of Flower – Deflower, or to lie down on – or next – to Bed of Roses, so I can feel and stroke it, resting in the comfort it proffers to me. It even is installed in the front area, so you have the window spaces, a comfortable site to rest within. One diptych work – Is That All There Is? - seems to expose its inner parts to us in this manner: another level of intimacy, like with the work that has a border (the aforementioned Self Preservation), where we may look in, but not be inside of it. Other works have brightly coloured components to set off the off-white of the majority of felt works, looking soft but that would undoubtedly be sullied (literally) by too many hands.

One might postulate an analogy about ideals and practicum there, or about a remote perfection that is literally unreal, and what that says about how we see women, and gender. It gets pleasantly messy when Galatea steps off that pedestal and comes to life and actually speaks, or demonstrates a mind of her own (my nod to International Women’s Day, ladies). I like an intelligent woman who can argue: makes her real, and much sexier, bluntly. And these are “shifts” that indicate a personality that is complex and real, sometimes colourful (Never just Black and White) and serious (Rooted to a Firm Stand).

But enough hyperbole: let me praise more of the works, specifically. Vestal, in its title, plays upon the historical notion of vestal virgins, and is one of the plainest works here, appropriately. Loves me…Loves me Not II is another dress that has both simple flowers upon it, and some scatter upon the gallery floor. I can’t help but feel the old game has not gone well, here. It’s like Flower – Deflower, in that the dresses are bases, with different personalities or aspects, moving outwards, literally, spilling outwards, but Flower-Deflower seems to have extraneous bits, and all I can think of is how the term “Deflower” used to refer to taking a woman’s virginity…and the complications therein and after the act itself and what symbolic space (no pun intended) that held. And continues to…

It’s funny – but appropriate – to me that I’m seeing better sculptural works in craft spaces than in “art” spaces lately. Perhaps this comes back to (another) failure of the U of S art program. Or perhaps it’s the “Po Mo” discourse of ideas over object, irony over intent, or maybe I’m thinking harder on it that it merits. I raise this as we’re seeing better feminist, post modernist, engrossing work from June J. Jacobs  (and members of Flock and Gather, a local collective) than from a “school” whose best contribution to sculpture in this site would be to be shut down, to cauterize its hemorrhaging ­damage.

But never mind: let us speak of good things, and the complicated beauty of this show. Go see June J. Jacobs work in Shift Shaping at the Affinity Gallery at the Saskatchewan Craft Council, and go see her talk in early April. Like Kai Chan, her works are engaging and well made and will make you want to see her work again, as her ideas (and by extension herself) are literally manifest in the forms she creates and displays.