Wednesday, October 18, 2006

Stuff Not Seen: The Grey Alley Cat

This is bizarre night for me again as I am standing here
waiting for a dying cat to make its call.


I'll explain later, i'm here to change my mind.



I was just tumbling on my September art schedule and it got
me depressed for a moment.


Back in early September, I had no idea I was going to have
to cancel my trips for an operation. In fact, had I known, I would
have prolonged a quick stay in New York so that I could have catched glimpses
of the opening season.

In retrospect, here is the list of what I most deeply regret missing:


New York:

- Annette Messager's new installation at Marian Goodman

- Jessica Stockholder's new art at Mitchell-Innes And Nash.

- Joseph Kosuth at Sean Kelly (because it sounded like a little retrospective)

- Anish Kapoor's installation at Rockerfeller, one of my fave artist, but I doubt I'll be able to be in NYC before the end of this (Oct 27)

- Zaha Hadid: yep, I am missing the retro at Guggenheim. I'm angry if the Montreal CCA can't invite her.

- Damien Hirst drawing retro: very unlucky with Hirst as it's been two shows from him at Gagosian that I've been missing these past two years. He's not my fave artist
I must admit.

- Strange Powers: collectiv exhibit in a haunted apartment. Damn.

- Everybody Dance Now: seemed like a silly exhibit on dance videos.

- Jim Campbell exhibit.


Elsewhere:

- BGL new installation in Quebec, arrrggh.

- Rousseau retrospective in Washington, ARRRGGHHH !!!! Ok, this one I am gonna have to buy the book.

- Champ Libre in Montreal (the first one I missed).

- Early Japan Art exhibit at Pointes-A-Callieres, not so much something that I can't stand to have missed but more that I just feel very guilty to have procastinated so much about visiting it when it was on play during so many months prior its ending.



Since I was out the hospital, I had seen two art shows thanks to my mother helping me out, but today I was able to visit two other shows by my whole self, not counting the fact that I also went to see the band Mojave 3 yesterday, so I guess things are getting back to normal now. Basically, I am just here hoping this October 16, 2006, could be the first day of my life regained for the longest time possible.



Tonight, alas, I am missing the opening performance at the Festival Du Nouveau Cinema, something private that I had to get myself invited to (I hate these fla-fla
vip events, I really just wanted to see the art, and I'm still amazed that this was
reserved for the "special crowd"), but unfortunately, there is some stray alley cat around here that has been hit by a car and I've been looking for it all night.
He's hiding somewhere. This poor cat used to come to my door each night as I was providing food, but try as may there was no way I succeeded domesticating it or have it come anywhere near me. As of now I already take care of one stray cat, that was intelligent enough to let himself approached and invited in my home. I named him Rex because he is quite vigilant with other cats, a true warrior, a cat that was destined to survive. I am forced to let him out each night as he is used to life on the street, yet I am still worried that he will end up being hit on the streets. It's kind of horrific to just be here while a cat might be suffering outside but the neighbors and I have searched everywhere. The lady who hitted him said the hit was quite harsh, and in fact she was hoping to be able to let the SPCA finish him. In the eventuality that I find him with a broken leg, I will have it repaired. I will look again tomorrow.


Errr. what am I saying, not tomorrow, I'm going out right now again to try to find this cat.

So there you go, from tomorrow and on I should be at the Montreal Festival Du Nouveau Cinema, reporting here on what I see.


ADDENDUM: ok, the grey alley cat is fine. It is the neighbor's cat that got hit by a car but apart from a scratchy leg that cat is fine, is being taken well care of, and will more than totally survive. I need to build a little niche for the stray car as I already take care of one and these two couldn't possibly get along. At any rates with cats like these they can be hit at any times but they are used to being wild so I let them be what they want.


Cheers,

Cedric Caspesyan
centiment@hotmail.com


PS: remember me to pay homage to Giacometti some day.

PS2: Oh, the exhibits that I saw today were at Oboro and dazibao.
Maybe I'll write a few notes about them tomorrow.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

The Museum Is The Message: "Sound And Vision" at Montreal Museum Of Fine Arts

(this article is not corrected yet...please read at your peril)


I don't think I can imagine an art show that was less fun visiting recently than the Montreal MFA presentation of canadian art collected in the past few years by our major canadian art institutions which include them, the Art Gallery Of Ontario, and the National Gallery of Canada.

Not that the art was bad in itself, just that put all together, the whole felt drab, conceptually dried to the bone, and irritatingly self-conscious.


The premiss was to focus on photographic and video art, though I already had accused in the past some institutions (especially the Montreal Museum Of Contemporary Arts, who are not participating in this survey) to exagerate their interest for very cold conceptual image-based works, when so many artists in other mediums, especially sculpture, have yet to get pertinent museal representation in this country. Wrether it's David Altmejd, Michel De Broin, or even Jessica Stockholder which we have seen so rarely in Quebec, there is definitely a gap going on in our public collections, and I am afraid this has a little to do with curators working a little too hand in hand with certain gallerists who definitely stand by their bias by taking a long time before being interested by new artists (and when they do, it is mostly because the new artists reflect interests already explored by their roasters). Being an artist who secretly works in video art I feel strange to decry what I perceive as an over-interest with the medium, but I have always been more interested in defending good art than my own career or a specific medium over another.


I am appalled that all the interesting stuff that I saw over the years in art centres rarely end up being shown in museums, and somehow, at how this exhibition made me realize that simplier formats like a photograph or a monoband video are indeed more likely to find itself part of a national collection, perhaps because they are easier to manipulate and sell, which results in tingling my senses that there seem to be a provident danger for young contemporary artists to feel attracted by creating art merely because it is suitable for museums (most photos shown here are expressly formatted for museum spaces), instead of really trying to move somewhere.

Let me be clearer.

Many of the art pieces shown here, if they are representative of communal canadian interest in the arts, seem to be attracted by researching end alleys and culs-de-sac. There is a definite relent of nostalgia for the conceptualist 60's that has been aestheticized, "re-arranged" (rendered slicki-er), and personalized (or psychologized). The couple artists who do not conform to what I just described at the very least remain much entangled in their respect of severe art traditions or are paying homages to earlier artists.

There is no real bad asses here. If you've seen one, it's faux-bad-ass.
(ok..maybe Janieta Eyre is slightly off the mark...)


To resume the show, rarely I have met so little expression of true personalities. The art pieces presented here seemed more like attempts to quasi-scientifically decipher various processes of perceptualism (how images are made in our heads and transformed culturally, when artists are not bluntly showing you, ohhh wow, how the camera works...or was I that stupid?), when not offering art as an alternative for anthropological research.

There is this tension in many works between being overdead-serious but filled with just enough a punch tag claiming "you-know-I-didn't-really-mean-it-...-I-wasn't-that-deadly-serious" that it left me really ambiguous and untrusty about what artists are really trying to do with investing so intendedly, ie., parasiting, our art collections with so many cold essays that look more like ponctuations over precedent historical artistic epitaphs, all this when they are still artists with true fire left in them that are being ignored.


Ok I realize I am being a bit rough on here, when they are actually quite a few pieces which I really liked in that show (many I had seen before), so why don't we go through with the art that I find so problematic?


Geneviève Cadieux, "June" (1999): One of the four artists presented as influential over the canadian scene (with Michael Snow, Rodney Graham and of course Jeff Wall),
Cadieux re-iterated her interest in photographic pigment by associating it to an image of a "landscape close-up" so to reaffirm the painting quality of photography that you are now able to compare to a Riopelle. I keep wanting to refuse to like that work because I deemed it too blunt. Actually the work is not ugly in itself. I just feel the project is trying to ponctuate on abstraction, but that field have seen many dead ends and the people who excell at it these days are so well beyond the apparatus of a Riopelle that I canèt help but find this work retrograde. I mean, De Kooning did say that he painted some close-up of grasses so why prove it 15 years later? This is more like an exercise than real art to me.

Mark Lewis "Algonquin Park, Early March" (2002): Lewis is getting dangerously close to making snippets worth your cd-manual instructions on proprieties of camera tricks.
He used to explore the realm of cinema in engaging ways but he has become a little too radical and there is a point where the "boring" has eating up the "interesting".

Tim Lee, "The Jerk, Carl Reiner, 1979": the guy seems so gentle and sweet that it pains me to critique his work but, again, while some of his other works can be very humoristic, this behind-the-gag complex "theoreticalization" (is that a word?) on the theme of portrait and identity felt way too over the top (there is an half-hour explication to this work) to ..err, suspend my disbelief if you will, and while the homage to Graham sounds nice it also felt a little poussé and not too "à propos". I had seen the other work "Funny Face, George And Ira Gershwin, 1927" (2002) so many times already that the first laugh effect on me had disappeared and now I was left mesmerizing myself at thinking "hmmm...Is this really really a great work of art or just some silly pun?". Is it something Tim Lee got away with, so to speak.

Angela Grauerholz (excerpts from) Privation Book (2001): I do feel sad for Grauerholz for loosing all her library collection in a fire, but the more I see samples from this series of scans of her dead books (3 are on show here, no. 8 (front), no. 55 (back) and no. 181 (back), in case you really care), the more that I think that this essay on Borgesian lost knowledge or Smithsonian entropy is not too pertinent, especially when it entitles the works of art to outlast the books, what I find paradoxical at a times when they are other performer artists who simply burned all their personal belongings willingly. There seem to be some grief that this work is living badly. This work replaces the loss of material by effigies, images meant as monuments, yet images are too evanescents to make this project palpable. And why should I care about these dead books after Alexandria? Why?

Pascal Grandmaison, "Verre 4" (2003): not a bad idea, but way too blunt for my taste. Yes we are enthrusted in our own perceptual bubbles, separated by impenatrable screens, but Grandmaison wants so much that I don't care about his subjects that I end up not caring. I think I am more interested by art that attempts at communicating than by art that just reminds me of how things really are. And let's be honest, the photos look like they've been shot in 2 minutes and maybe that provokes me a little. They scream "So easy to be an artist, huh?" and I just feel like wanting to refuse them that category. I need substance, imagination. This, what Grandmaison shows me, I had already figure out, so I felt like the work was not bringing much to Platon, more like it was the poster ad image for the myriads recent texts about "body-screen". When will Grandmaison break the glass, so to speak?

Kevin Schmidt "Long Beach Led Zep" (2002) looks even more like a Youtube folly now that it is shown on a full size wall, sparing a whole museum room, instead of the previous postcard tv format seen here and there. If it had been sincere I could have laughed but the way the work is described in statement is just adding way too much pretentions, stuff about evoking this nostalia or that utopia, the museal envelop actually drying out the excitement I could have had about the work if I had found it on Youtube. Sometimes you are trying too much, you know? This is not pure anymore, it's a demonstration of cultural exotic dead ends. I was hoping the guy really enjoyed playing led zep on the beach. Can you see what I mean?

Kelly Wood, "Continuous Garbage Project Year Three (March 15 2000 - March 14 2001) (2001): Like an evil grind pun on pop art ("Fuck Those Campbell Soups!!"), this project really made me hoped that now that everybody and everyone will have shown their garbage in art galleries and museums, than maybe afterward we can start wondering about really interesting things. And how are Wood's garbage bags not that interesting? Well, what first looked like an anthopological project about the artist's life and her surroundings (which I had to question the amount of interest I should involve in), quickly turned into an age-old attempt to reveal a cul-de-sac with ready-mades and what can be turned into art ("Hey, have I beaten Manzoni just yet? Or am I truly interested by my own garbage?"). I mean, yes the piece is art, and yes it has multiple colors in it and is all cutely mosaical, but it is this obsession with contemporary arts to dig with the down, the low, and the minimal that I find tristounet (and sometimes redundant, as "thrash alert" turned into art is far from being at its first round). I understand that Wood means to "warn us" by revealing the "unseen" in everyday consumption, and how I'm supposed to feel mirrorred by this project. But is the art of Kelly Wood a symptom of human ecological defect or a symptom of an artistic failure to deal with such defect? Where am I suppose to go after that? This project felt like screaming "dead end, goodbye, I've got no more to say" so I was left confused about my best way to react. Why not use larger green bags and less of them, for a start?

Stan Douglas, Cuban Buildings (a series): This looks like an excellent documentary project on how cuban buildings have been transformed since the Castro revolution, but.. Well, I can see many great documentary photo shoots in Paris Match and elsewhere and I am not sure why Stan Douglas's version should hold a special place in the art department, all this because he does other works that happens to be art. The photos don't look perticularly personal nor filled with any technological bravado, nor special sense of poetry. And top of that, it's not a diary. It is just like good photojournalism, period.

Alexandre Castonguay: 3 photo-portraits of people which are in fact multi-layers of photos morphed back digitally into one. It felt more to me like an experience with gadgetry than anything specially moving.

Rodney Graham "Stanley Park Cedar, No. 7": As if saying "If I can't redo Ansel Adams (or Friedlander, or...), at least I can enlarge it and put it upside down". Graham is actually one of my fave artists but the upside trees are only good when the trees look good, so it's all more about cosmetics to me than a truly interesting project.

Scott McFarland and Isabelle Hayeur are each "re-inventing" landscape (or interior) photography by digitally collaging parts of photographed worlds that don't necessarely belong together. The results are interesting but what I would be attacking here in this article is how the artists have depersonalized their art in the respect of their methods. Methods which, once replicated by many artists, could dangerously make them redundant. What warrants a nice Hayeur is still her ability to create nice images, but the way her "method" is described in the statement sounds like affirming that each of her photographs should automatically be interesting when that is not always the case. In fact the precise work shown here ("Refuge", 2002) is quite ordinary compared of what I have seen from her elsewhere. So, outside of stubborn theories and obsession with precise art traditions, I fear that Hayeur is bypassing the fact that she is mostly an excellent collagist. I mean, when will the work finally reveal that it's all about collage? Will we ever know? Or how do we know? Etc...


Steven Shearer, "Guitar No. 5" (2003) is a big collage-mosaics of people playing guitars. Again it remains in the "anthropology" category judging from the statement.
It's an "ok" work but it doesn't beat an Ydessa Hendeles museum of photographs of people holding teddy bears, hence here I come back to the fact that most works described until now seem to have been made large enough to not fit in everyone\s living room, but small enough to be manipulable and fitting the wall of a museum collectiv show. Note that they are at least 5 "Guitar" works in existence what made me wonder why the artist never made them all into one work. His other piece "Activity Cell With Warlock Bass Guitar" (1997) looks like a pun on Rirkrit Tiravanija more than something truly original, and that I think is what happens when artist reduce themselves to minimal wooden motifs and forms: you end up looking the same as another artist, just like all galleries are white cubes.


Rebecca Belmore, "To Rest And To Dream" (2001) and some other photograph of her enveloped in drapes, is quite ambitious in trusting her audience to really fulfill their gazes with an image of herself presented as an "exotic artefact" aimed at "piquing our curiosity". Hmmm....Has Native culture ever yet wanted to remain so self-preciously unatteinable? Or what's the point? Again this work sounds like a demonstration of something than a real artistic exploration, but I am not sure what it wished to demonstrate.

---------------------------------------------


Ho boy did I even like something in that exhibit?
Yes I did, those who passed my radar test are below:


Jeff Wall, "Stereo" (1980) could also be accused of being cold and removed and merely interested by historical attribution. But I can't help but feel that the photograph is emotionally invested. You want to like this guy. You want to be there and say "hey..what are you doing naked on that couch?". The fact that we know Wall is replying to Manet (and the likes) only adds a touch of humanism to the work instead of removing it. The work stands for a major missing nude in art history. I deem the photograph to be extremely political. And human.

AA Bronson, "Felix, June 5, 1994" (1994-99): this is not cold page documentary but couldn't be more invested. It's a way for Bronson to seal for good the heritage of General Idea, a group that has worked so many years around aids issue, and at the same time it was the first work of his solo career, in a sense. It's a necessary photograph, representative of a whole generation and art community worldwide. And because the picture is so graphically wild, yet it pictured a dark moment (the physical suffering is obvious), I think it will remain in memory for long. A classic of contemporary canadiana.

Janieta Eyre, "What I Haven'T Told You" (2003) + "Red Like Meat" (2002): dealing often with motherhood and other women issues in post-biological trauma settings, this local version of a Matthew Barney has made quite a face of her own and is radically detached from what others are doing, including in this exhibition. I remark a strong character and personality in this art (like it is absent in most other works here). Her akward taste for kitsch is recognizeable series after series.

Nicolas Baier, "Planet" (2002): there is always something going on in a Baier photograph that is too quirky to have it reduced into, say, as the Cadieux above, to an attempt to homage abstract art and its options for photography. In this case there is the homage to Paterson Ewen but, first Ewen was not abstract (and the title of this piece doesn't induce that it should be abstract), then there is the confusion about what exactly we are seeing (often a surprise with Baier to discover the trick behind the photo), then there is the humor (it's a goddam scratched bar table), than the playing grace of keep looking on for a couple minutes and discovering surpriseful details (a design of two people in some garden). Somehow Baier often suceeds at making his art fun to look at (apart from that it is often simply ravishing), so really I cannot tag him as a cold conceptualist as those I have listed above. I don't know why. Maybe because for once I can sense a real joy in artmaking.

Rodney Graham, "Rheinmetall-Victoria 8" (2003): I can fall for an hard-edged theoretical work when it is that well-expressed. This follows a similar idea than with the Grauerholz images of dead books (above), except that instead of being concerned with the disappearance of knowledge, Graham is concerned by the disappearance of technological means to bring that knowledge. Commenting that the digital era and computers might soon forget cinema reels and typewriters is one thing, but doing it in a way that the whole look as slick as Sugimoto, yet filled with the aura and originality of early surrealist cinema, that made this monster steps above so many other works dealing with the exact same topic. Graham just excels with romanticism. He keeps wanting to get things cold but it's always with the heart that he is reaching back at us. Or am I simply being corny?

John Massey "A Directed View (The Third Room): Some Other Union" (1980): Ok, this "sound puppet theatre", which is simply a sound work played over a replicate in miniature of the artist's studio was so AHEAD OF ITS TIME by 1980, you wonder if Janet Cardiff ever invented anything. And to think the artist refers to this as a photograph? At last a work filled with enough mystery that it doesn't need dwell on de-fabricating or analyzing the ways of artmaking. Or maybe it does, in a sense, but far from being specific it finally leaves the audience breathe with imagination in an exhibit where most work seems to attempt to attack or deceive that very imagination. I...happen to like art, you see?

Evan Penny, "L. Faux-Tri X" (2001): I was already amazed when I saw this guy's last solo at Sperone Westwater in New York, but I never knew he was a canadian artist.
Hooray for us! Yes, he's your next Ron Mueck, but his art relies often on wall reliefs (between the 2d and 3d) rather than the strictly sculptural. In fact he is included here because his sculpture looks much like a blurred photograph (at least from a distance). Impossible, Irreprehensible craft, I have no idea how he managed to reach this effect, to sculpt this. But as I said in the beginning, sculpture is strong in Canada and here is just one more name that I would not even have thought mentioning. This attempt to 3d-ify photography has been one of the most interesting venture of art in the last couple years. I should curate a show about this. This artist could be big, time will tell.

Althea Thauberger, "Songstress" (2002): ah well I have seen this series of videoclips multiple times but it remains always great fun to hear these young woman sirens-wannabee sing in the forest in this absolute utopian, homely version of a Lillith Fair. Yes, we laugh, but at the same time we are charmed. It's the same effect as being in Walt Disney World passed 19 years old.


Michael Snow, "Conception Of Light" (1992): this man should be gently spanked for having brought a dark influence on drying up and hyper-conceptualize the canadian contemporary art scene (read about all the works I hated above), yet, Snow is one fellow who has kept over the years a strength and maybe an easyness in reaching the sublime in places where many others only reached the dead theoretical ends. These two large circular photographs of pupils should look like nothing that never had been printed before on a Resident music album, yet they still look brand new in 2006 as they reclaim their authenticity as works of art. The statement, wanting people to stay aware of awareness, and the simple reference to painting, couldn't be more obvious, but the fact that these two eyes are implicated in ways that shall constitute sort of the Romeo And Juliet of canadian contemporary arts is unexpectedly enlightning. A great work about, well, love, basically. Who'd seen this coming from Snow?


I'll end up with a work that keeps me neither in the cold nor heat: while I agree that the Lynne Cohen photographs are architecturally very pertinent, I cannot amend myself to filled these spaces with equal amounts of mysteries, so I tend to prefer the spa and laboratories photographs over those presenting halls and classes. Sort of like a Candida Hofer, maybe her works should always be presented in strict series rather than intertwined as they were here. I wish they would have presented, say, the whole Spa series. I think Spa is one of the landmark series of contemporary photography. But isn't this your typical documentary, like I accused Douglas of doing above? No, here the shots seem calculated for their plasticity: the effect
is often flat and acknowledging of a grid. These are structural studies. while ome of the Douglas photos seemed almost touristic.


Ok well, 14 works I didn't like versus 10 that I liked means that it is not so bad
afterall. But my problem was with the 14 works I disliked being works
I strongly disliked and mostly how even comparing the works I liked with those
I disliked I kept coming up with flat conceptual canvases. Maybe I am a little
annoyed that those flat canvases still consist of the majority of what museums buy as contemporary arts, probably even as we speak.


I am afraid that by revealing trends, museums are simply telling artists what they want and the art that they should be doing.


I am worried of unrepresentation and fallacy caused by
lacks of means, or by museums listening too much to collector's
tastes who are buying art for their living room, or worst,
the hall at their corporate buildings.



Suddenly I realized how grey, soft blue and white
was popular in that exhibit. I am worried that a Lynne Cohen enters the museum easier because it looks better at the dentist's office who bought it.

Is that what this exhibition was telling me?


Cedric Caspesyan
centiment@hotmail.com

Monday, October 09, 2006

There's Snow In Your Windshield: "Weathervane" at Uqam Gallery




I grew up thinking of snow as a luxury you visit. John Landis




My mother is helping me out this week to visit a couple art shows
until I am able to go by myself. Isn't she sweet?

Therefore I was able to catch Weathervane finishing this Saturday at
Uqam Gallery (September was such a rush with medical institutions
that I didn't have much time for art).

Actually I was going to reply to a Chris Zeke article about it, as I seem to always have more fun replying to people than writting my own stuff, but his comment section is membership-tied at the moment.


Weathervane is one of about 4 or 5 contemporary art shows I have seen in the past couple years dealing with the theme of weather. It is possible that even 2 of them were presented at the same space (Taran Gallery at Saydie Bronfman Center), but my memory is quite feeble these days. But not to want to accuse the originality of Karen Love's curatorial project it must be said that Weathervane is already about 2 years old and have been travelling in many places before reaching Montreal.


Like many collectiv shows these days when art endeavours in this country are being badly subventioned, Weathervane is merely an assemblage of small, less important works, some of which would probably never have caught attention if they weren't brought in such context. It is really the kind of exhibit that takes shape because of the curatorial premiss, and in a sense, mostly underlines an art in curating more than it really provides us with works that can have an impact. Though in this specific case, Karen Love remains both honest and generous with her offer, having mixed up artists from very different backgrounds and approaches. It's a wonder how she fell on remembering or including some of these works.


The best piece, by 10 grade above anything else, and the only one absolutely worth
the detour to visit this show, was Seifollah Samadian’s video loop "The White Station" (1999), which is simply sort of a moving canvas, a minimalist documentation of an iranian woman waiting for a bus during a snow tempest, until the bus arrives and another women gets out as she enters (this intercutted with shots of birds experiencing the same weather on their tree branches). I know, or I expect, this to be a metaphor about the harsh condition of living as a woman in contemporary Iran (chadors and all), but even universally, outside of politics, I felt the image was striking. It's not only about human survival, I am more interested by this idea of a flow of assaulting energy and how one is being removed from it, like experiencing relief or redemption, until that energy is passed unto someone or something else. I was thinking of oxygen moving through blood or other stretched comparisons, but really the only negative critic I could think for this piece is that the loop was "interluded" by the credits at the end when it should have been going on and on. Otherwise, the way I perceived this piece, it was perfection (the crude handheld camera being much more affirmative than the usual cinematic prowess of Shirin Neshat).

My mother, not as accustomed to art as I am, watched it three times in a row because for her it was a soothing, relaxing sight. It is the only piece that she truly enjoyed from the exhibit, though I was there to "explain" her everything else (some of the pieces here are highly conceptual).


At this point I must stop and comment that all the works in the show could be separated in two categories: works about snow, and works about wind. So let's move on through the snow category. The piece by Tania Kitchell "Fargo" (2004) must be one of the most bizarre artwork I've seen in a while. What's the point? Covering a large paper band on the wall she presents photographic fragments of the popular movie Fargo (Coen Brothers) combined with a text that analyses the weather conditions in the movie. Now I wasn't sure if this was an analysis from the artist herself, about how that "filmed weather" affected her internally, or if she meant to point out the visions and intentions the filmakers had about the weather aspect in their film, while sort of comparing these intentions with the results, revealing the irony of a situation when men are pretending to have control over nature. Now to come back to a comment I was going to reply to Chris Zeke, I have nothing against an artist appropriating images from popular cinema, especially in the context of a work that is specifically ABOUT that film and proposes an analysis of an aspect from it (the Coen brothers should totally feel homaged, or at least curious about this commentary), but I think the artist here simply didn't choose the best format. As it is the whole looks more like a large bizarre publicity subway poster for the film. Some images seem more interested by the stars and action in the movie than any specific filmic weather. I really question the format (which by the way is unusually large for this artist). It's like a photographic graffiti. Why not present a short clip from the film instead? And why Fargo instead of The Shining?

Following from the snow movement, the show included three funny drawings by Tyler Brett and Tony Romanu ("T&T" is the monicker they prefer), that sort of stood in nowhereland between the cartoonish and the prototype-design proposition. They depicted quasi-surreal futurist-meets-folk scenes, like postcards from the next glacial age, including a trappist holding a solar energy cell-plate on his backpack, or a bunch of snowdogs drawing a pile of white cars on snow, them turned into metallic igloos. I was frustrated that there were only 3 drawings featured as, if ever there was a larger series done about this, I'd be curious to see them together in a catalog. This is the type of neo-folk art akin to Marcel Dzama that could easily get popular, and I wouldn't want to miss on yet another deleted publication.

Am I already done with the snow? Ooops, yes, because I made one big mistake. The two Paterson Ewen works included, though appearing from my sight as depicting snow, were actually interpretations of the rain movement. Or I'm not sure about the older drawing from 1971, which was just a bunch of blotted dots on paper, looking more like a constipated Pollock than anything remotely engaging, a mere study being presented obviously because of its signature. The larger work, a probable crowd-pleaser, is at the opposite, magnifiscent, though one could visually connect how both of them came to fruition and how that was certainly the point of Karen Love to have them replying to each others as they were. "Rain Over Water" (1974) to me sort of pursue the Van Gogh project, a personal, lurid, vivification of a landscape vision, while adding a little spice of entropic menace, as here the art seems more like attempting to represent weather as a phenomenon larger than one could actually possibly perceive it. I mean, the way that Ewen scraps his wood is very insisting, like he means to add, to exaggerate the intensity of the real event. The stratifications of this rain look rather violent and painful when otherwise the background landscape doesn't seem to be that afflicted by it. To me this is as if the artist's method (the effects of raw woodcarving) almost meant to reveal the whole hidden energetic process supporting the event of rain itself. An expressionm of the outre-natural, as such. The rain and the aura of the weather project permitting it.


Ok we're on to the wind and skies works:

Rodney Graham's "Weather Vane" (2002) gave both the title of the show and the cool catalog cover logo. This is what happens when you make it that big in the artworld.
Otherwise, his steel multiple is mostly a pretty functional object that will show you the wind's direction thanks to a "wind shield" taking the shape of the artist sitting in reversed on a bicycle so to make sure he is always moving towards the "wrong direction", if you will. It's obviously an object filled with cuteness and romantic nostalgia but I don't think there is any reason to dwell unto its meaning for centuries. Put in the right place it would be the sort of art piece that would still functionate once people had forgotten about it, so there should not be a need to put it in a museum or gallery (where its purpose is destroyed).


Mark Lewis's "Windfarm" (2001) is a 4 minutes loop showing a park of wind turbins somewhere in California. Hmmm...Beautiful but...So what? Well, if we remember Mark Lewis we know that all his work is about the medium cinema more than it is about anything else (including weather), and so this piece is supposed to reflect the very propriety of cinematic loop itself, by providing a cycle of turning rotor
blades that apparently are moving in a manner that "echoes the spinning movement" of cinema "reel revolutions". The problem is that the work is shown on dvd so..err..it obviously looses in a raffle the opportunistic subtlety of the link with cinema, and as a visual tableau in itself (a painting...or more like a postcard) it is not entirely deprived of grace, but it is simply nothing that sounds like hard work enough (or hard "think" work enough) to deserve a spectator's attention for more than a minute, regardless of the effort to impress our little human sizes by having the projected screen filled the largest wallspace possible. Pfff..nice try, you guys.
Better to go visit the park in person.

Richard Rhodes is presenting an assemblage of 3 quite blunt painted "portraits" of skies, which are at first sight confusing because each of these "portraits" are themselves segmented in 4 or 6 small rectangular canvases, yet they are all shown aligned together on one wall without clear separation between the three different works. I thought this project was supposed to underline the possibility of filling a sky with identity?? Nevertheless, these "portraits" are fragmented simply as a mean from the artist to acknowledge the human impossibility to encompass a whole sky through representation. Apart from that, the specific lieux and hours where these events took place are rather anecdotical (who cares about the sky above this or that mall? Oops, well ok, Richard does), and the paintings don't do that much more than being aesthetically pleasing (especially the assemblage which revealed a more pinkish oversight). Let's just say that if they meant to share complex ties with minimalism and landscape, I'm throwing a Stephane Larue. These are still decorative works. Contemporary, but decorative (which is no more of a contradiction these days, anyway).

Following from a similar, almost performative, vein, Alan Storey (which by the way
made me have fun at the recent Sculpture Biennial in Trois-Rivieres) presented us a maquette and a photograph of an actual prototype of a giant "hydrothermograph",
which are these little temperature reader machines sitting in the corners of museums that caught me more than once laughing and saying "wow..this is the best art piece
I've seen in this room..." (mostly when visiting with friends and bored by the art). But Storey had the imagination to install a gigantic version of this machine outside and use the recorded temperature activity as a medium for pieces of abstract art, in themselves presented as large paper bands (of which two were included here). Honestly I thought the work was worthy for its humoristic aspect, but taken from an intellectual side I am not sure I would be that interested in putting artefacts of pseudo-natural causalities on my walls. Maybe if the machine could have recorded different variants in colors, but in black over white it was a little too tiger-crude for my taste.

Where are we now?

Next to this was a Marlene Creates dyptich, or at least it seems like it was a dyptich after reading the title but for a while I thought they were two separate works. They were photos of landscapes with road signs presented as central motifs, these strangely warning possible passerbys about weather hazards. The first one seemed to be captured from a desert, as the sign was warning "us" from wind dust (or more like tumbleweeds), and the other, shot from a mountain view, announcing the menace of falling rocks. I am not sure if there was some kind of metaphorical link to be made between the first wind and the latter falling rocks (dyptich alert), or if the artist simply meant to demonstrate how civilization has come to fragment elements of one large butterfly which is nature, but the project was (is) somewhat cute as a documentary about human struggle against nature. For deep Lacanesque interpretations about language versus events and how all this is forming inside our heads and digested by culture, you will need to go read another critic's take.


Moving up the stairs from Uqam was an unusual inclusion of an old experimental film
from 1974, which most people would mistake for a Michael Snow work as he is easily the first artist who comes to mind when faced with similar minimalist recording interventions of landscape through cinema. But "Windmill III" (where are the other two? another missed opportunity here) is by Chris Welsby, an artist I know little about, and it is simply the video transfer of a 16mm camera shooting a whirling mirror-blade in a park, this blade being activated by some sort of wind captor. So basically, half the time as the wind makes the blade turns you see the camera shooting itself, while half the other you see the scenery of the park behind, and as fast as this manoeuvre begins to accelerates, the image unfolds into a wild flicker effect, as though the calm sunny aspect of the park becomes suddenly endangered by some very heavy rain, or some improbable blizzard (I wrote "blister" in my notes).
So what started like your typical 70's "demonstrative art" (pure cinema conceptualism) soonly becomes a very genuine take on Monet's impressionism. Who would have thought? I liked this work, and so should you (my mother hated it, but you know, it does take patience and the will to "perceive" this one).


Finally, gosh, I was almost forgetting it, the show included another unexpected artist, the legendary anti-object minimalist Lawrence Weiner, with another of his wall sentence that functions like a visual poem (or maybe, a physical poem?). These two sentences are put in red one over the other, separated by one dark line:
"ODDS & ENDS TIED TOGETHER / AS THE DAWN COMES UP LIKE THUNDER". So you see basically
the thunder is "under"neath, menacing odds_and_ends "tied" (& looking like a knot, or something as literal, or can you excuse language for being literal?). That's the idea. And with Weiner, ideas are all what truly counts so no need to embellish them or complicate them. Just write them down on a wall, make it look like a theorema. Yeah that is it: pseudo-theorema aesthetic. Not a bad idea since we all love a T-shirt that can scream, but, nothing that I would pay big bucks for when I can just stencil it myself on my wall. Can one share an idea? As for the inclusion here, well, it was an original way for the curator to demonstrate how entropy (remember that show is 2 years old, right?) can truly be communicated in all sorts of strange mediums, heh?


The Montreal version of the show was missing the video installation by Diana Thater
(some clouds behind a window on the ceiling, or something similar that sounded like a Yoko Ono ripp-off). Is it because it was too expensive to get it travelled? Is it because Thater is the larger than life artist invited in this project? I'd like to know. I'd really insist on curators getting their shows travel properly. I would have loved to judged the work in person instead of speculating from descriptions.



Whoah, my window opened abruptly, the autumn's cold air has made itself comfortable here, so gotta close that one down,


Toodles to readers;-)

Cedric Caspesyan
centiment@hotmail.com


PS: some images of the show are here, but if I can see better links to each work I'll change this text tomorrow.


"Weathervane"
8 September - 7 October 2006
Galerie De l Uqam
1400 rue Berri
Montréal

Friday, October 06, 2006

Alive Not Yet Kicking

Well, I'm alive and out of the hospital.

I feel a lot of pain now, my operation lasted 9 hours
(just to make sure they cleansed everything, I guess, but mostly
because I am a biological anomalia with my vena cavea crossing in X
with my Aorta and double renal arteries.)

Am I done with all this? Time will tell, and future exams.
With all the anti-cancer food I'll be eating I bet I'll
be fine.



To follow my previous post I am actually "extremely lucky",
because I managed to attend for a short 40 minutes the Rodney Graham
concert at the Mac last night (Thursday night) and when I mentioned attending
the exhibition opening I really meant Thursday night as I thought it was the same night as the concert (they used to do their vernissages on Thursdays at the Mac).
I mean, there was no way from the start that I could have made it for Wednesday. I was told by my doctors that if things went very very well I'd be out by Thursday night hence how I calculated this.


The Rodney Graham gig was so much more middle road canadiana rock
than I'd expected. Some very fine lyrics and a classic outlook, but I think
I prefer his older post-new-wave-folk of which he played nearly no tracks.
He did play the "Don't Trust Anyone Over 30" song from his recent puppet project with Tony Oursler. A strong moment within a mitigate evening. I felt like the concert was up for the art crowd to judge how Rodney really is also a musician, but I think the second show Saturday in the context of Pop Montreal will suit Mr. Graham better (I don't think I'll be able to make it, unfortunately).

In concert Graham appears as moderate and unpretentious as opposed to what his art may seem at times. Though actually he must be the same in his art whereabouts since he always have been very translucid in explaining his work contrarely to a lot of artists.

I like the guy for sure. If I hadn't been so sick I could have as well asked him for an autograph just so that he knows he's also subject to groupies.


--------------------------------



By the way I have received a fantastic art piece (mixte-media) simply titled "Cedric" (2006) as a gift during my stay at the hospital. The work is by Beatriz Valdebenito, the mother of a long friend of mine. It looks as if Guy Blackburn or Irene F. Whittome decided to go for total abstraction. It is also ethereal and minimalist, definitely emanating an hospitalish feel, including soft white bandage, and subtle figments of what seems like copper at the bottom of a 4-walled compartment in the centre. The artist won't tell me exactly the signification of everything, at least not for now. Don't know yet if I can show a picture of this, but you can be sure it will get a place of honor on the walls of my home.


The piece, though drastically personal, is in a similar vein
as this one,
which is currently showing in a group show at Maison De La Culture Notre-Dame-De-Grace in Montreal until October 15.


Here is the website for the show, that I will also attempt to visit next week, in the event that I feel better.



Hope all is well with you all,
I will still be participating in
a couple blog discussions around
as I recuperate.


Cedric Caspesyan
centiment@hotmail.com