Alambic de Creation by Diane Dubeau, photo by Paul Litherland
and there are pieces that made me scratch my head (a bunch of others). Then if you combine that with the bureaucratic boondoggle I had to traverse in order to get some pictures, imperfection and head scratching are the only things that I remember from the exhibit.
But let’s back up a little bit – I have no idea who is the person responsible for getting exhibits into the Maison de la Culture Frontenac (there are certain advantages, or disadvantages, about a faceless bureaucracy, I guess) but for the most part they do a very good job of putting on exhibits, better than most of the other Maison de la Cultures, in fact. The only complaint I would make is that they tend to rely too heavily on quote, dramatic lighting, unquote, which can get a tad tedious after a while. But hey! Whatever turns your crank. Anyhows I was down there last week (see the review of the Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli exhibit there that I published last week) kind just looking around, minding my own business when this teenager pops in, looks at one wall, then at me and then leaves. I don’t pay it no mind, and continue trying to wrap my head around Ms. Dubeau’s works – figuring for the most part that despite whatever good is attempted by bringing art to the people, by placing art in their neighborhoods, you still can’t get over the fact that most people still only want to spend about 15 seconds in front of a piece of art (fact!).
To be honest, I made that last statistic up. Even I’m not certain if I should believe my parenthetical statements. So you should be extremely careful when reading them as well. However, as I was just about done, the very same teenager comes back into the room and tells me I can’t take pictures. Now, I had no desire to get into an argument, and to be honest I was just taking snaps more for note-taking purposes than for actual “I’m-going-to-print-these-pictures-up-and-makes-scads-of-money-off-of-Ms.-Dubeau’s-work” purposes. But it was enlightening to see that said teenager wasn’t a disinterested teenager, and in fact was a teenager with a summer job working at an art gallery.
But back to Ms. Dubeau’s exhibit… it’s obvious from the title that she’s aiming for a quote, Big, unquote statement. Off the top of my head, maybe something having to do with how we eat, what we eat, societal norms while eating, and that’s even before reading the press release or giving PETA’s agenda half-a-thought. I’m certain that if you furrowed your brow for 30 seconds you could come up with half-a-dozen more.
Let’s start with the first pieces you see upon poking your nose down in the basement of the Maison de la Culture Frontenac. I kind of think of them as a triptych, but I have a feeling in the pit of my stomach that they are three separate paintings hung together because someone at the Maison de la Culture thought it would be Dramatic! (with a capital “D” and an exclamation point!). Called Cible I, Cible II and Cible III, L’Ours, Le Raton [sic] and La Femme au Bois respectively. Or if you prefer, Target 1, 2 and 3. The Bear, The Raccoon (actually there is no such animal in the French language as a “raton,” but a raccoon is called a “Raton laveur,” which should be close enough, but we could potentially get way off the rails if I mention that “raton” is a racist term for a North African, so I won’t. OK?) and the Woman in the Wood in my bestest bloke translation.
Cible I, Cible II and Cible III, L'Ours, Le Raton (sic) and La Femme au Bois by Diane Dubeau
As you might expect they are acrylic paintings of a bear, raccoon and a woman – although contrary to most western traditions they go right-to-left (like Arabic), not left-to-right. The bear has a red and black plaid swatch over where you would imagine its heart to be. The raccoon is wearing a Coonskin hat, and the woman a ridiculous pair of 15-point antlers. Ridiculous because 15-point antlers are “rarer than a can of dandelion and burdock.” They are large paintings, although only the raccoon is larger than life. Done on some sort of rough planking. Given the titles and the collage-like nature I imagine one is supposed to look for the quote, deeper meaning, unquote, but beyond the cartoon nature of the images, I got nothing. Am I supposed to think that because the bear has a red and black swatch of plaid on its chest and the raccoon is wearing a hat that there is some sort of inherent similarity between animals and human beings? Because the woman has antlers that she is as much of a trophy as a deer is? I think not. They are hung in a staggered fashion, transversely to the walls, parallel to the entry, which as you might expect is in one corner or the room, and very brightly lit, making them initially appear like some sort of vedette on a stage. Say, Bianca Gervais in Nitro.
Moving counter-clockwise through the room, there is an installation of some sort. Called Ossuaire (again mistitled, as an ossuary is for human bones, not those of animals) it is made of “Bones, 462 T-pins, and Vinyl Letters.” The letters spell out les restes des animaux que j’ai manges, depuis janvier 2010. Or for the blokes in the house, the remains of the animals I ate since January 2010. Now first off, if she’s counting the pins, why not count the bones? For the curious in the house, there are 213 by my count. And while I’m not certain that I would call the Maison de la Culture Frontenac a valley, but those dry bones were like a clarion call to me. I was extremely careful as to what I said around them, lest they all rise up and become a bunch of Zionists.
Ossuaire by Diane Dubeau
Second, if it’s all the animals she’s eaten since the beginning of 2010, then where are the recent additions? The exhibit has been up since June 23rd, I saw it in July and it stays up until the end of August, but it doesn’t appear that there are any new additions, which either means that Ms. Dubeau has stopped eating meat with bones for the duration of the exhibit, or something else. (And speaking of vegetarianism, I don’t know if I dreamed it, or if I saw it, but I distinctly have a very vivid memory of seeing Ms. Dubeau saying that she was a vegetarian, but I can’t find it for the life of me, hence why I put this in parenthesis. In what passes for a lobby at the Maison de la Culture there is a video interview playing, and a little voice inside my head tells me I saw it there. But on the internet the video makes no mention of Ms. Dubeau’s eating habits.)
And speaking of the video, remind me never ever to hire whomever made it. A) The sound recording is horrible. B) for such a short film, the amount of “umms,” “ahhs” and other non-words that were left in is atrocious. Although I didn’t time it, I would guess of the 84 seconds, 15 seconds – or almost 20% – is nonsense noises of Ms. Dubeau thinking. But the thing that almost made me fall off my chair in amazement was that the credits are 46 seconds long on a video that is 84 seconds long. Or 55% of the length. I can’t understand how something so short, needs to have credits that are so long. Actually I can, and it involves ego, or at least the only reason I can imagine needing credits that last so long is so that everyone (all 43 viewers as of this writing) can read who was responsible for making the video, and if that’s my tax dollars hard at work (thee different levels of government funded it) I sure as shooting would prefer that the cash go to the artist than to the folk who made the video, but I digress.
Back to the art; the next thing on the wall is called Camouflage Armé. Initially I was nonplussed by this painting. It’s kinid of boring, what with all the camouflage, and it’s kind of difficult to see the paper-maché skull in it – but then upon a closer examination, I noticed the knitted bullets framing the piece and completely and utterly fell in love with it. I’m a sucker for fiber art…
Camouflage Armé by Diane Dubeau
Next on the wall (actually more like in the corner) is the Famille des Lapins, or for those of you challenged by the second language, The Rabbit Family. On a shelf, a toy-stuffed bunny pinned to the shelf, a framed picture of a bloody rabbit skull, a jar of rabbit skulls in a liquid filled jar along, blue rubber gloves pinned to the shelf as well and a pair of tongs at a 45 degree angle leaned against the jar of skulls. Initially my reaction to this piece was the exact opposite of my reaction to Camouflage Armé. I was seduced by the ‘cool factor’ of the skulls in a jar – but upon further reflection it strikes me that this is a rather shallow piece. There’s no note that was inside any of the rabbits, and I’d be hard-pressed to see it as representing lust. Forcing an interpretation to go in only one direction (due to the graphic nature of the picture and the juxtaposition of the skulls in a jar). While there is good art that leaves nothing open to interpretation and basically sledgehammers you with its ideas and opinions (see: Picasso’s Guernica, Borduas’ Étoile noire or Rubens’ Saint George Battles the Dragon) for the most part I prefer art that is open to a variety of interpretations. It kind of gives you something to talk about, think and ponder, instead of being just what it is. And besides I like Hasenpfeffer and Coniglio All’ Ischitana.
Continuing on our tour around the room, Les Chasseurs (The Hunters) is very similar to Camouflage Armé in that it is a painting with most of the canvas covered by a camouflage pattern. In this case there are some fake rifle barrels on the frame and some cartoon-like images of 14 stereotypical hunters at the bottom, again a fairly straightforward painting. Not quite as forceful and in-your-face as Famille des Lapins, I think it could be made better by making the hunters larger and reducing the camouflage to background status. I also find it interesting that Ms. Dubeau decided to use quote, dramatic lighting, unquote for her camouflage paintings. The idea of shining a bright spotlight onto something that is designed to meld into the background is an interesting concept. I’m not certain if it was done intentionally as an awful lot of the exhibitions I’ve seen at the Maison de la Culture Frontenac used quote, dramatic lighting, unquote.
Les Chasseurs by Diane Dubeau
Ms. Dubeau appears to be intrigued by the number three. Or potentially thinks that triptychs are cool, because a bunch of her work is presented in threes. Case in point: Au Pays des Cauchemars,Au Cœur des Cauchemars and Le Trophée des Cauchemars. Three tiny assemblages (not quite paintings, not quite sculpture, not quite collage, not quite…) all made with acrylic paint, a toy moose, pins (although they look more like staples) and something she calls “perles synthétiques” but I would call plastic beads. I couldn’t quite figure out if they went right-to-left or left-to-right as none of them looked all that much like a trophy or a country. I wasn’t as confused by the heart one, but mainly because it was in the middle, not due to any of the iconography.
Au Pays des Cauchemars, Au Cœur des Cauchemars and Le Trophée des Cauchemars by Diane Dubeau
Her fascination with threes continues with La Chute I, II and III. The Rabbit, The Man and The Bird respectively. Either riffing off of Roberto Longo or Kate Puxley (or perhaps both, but then again maybe neither) This is how I think she should have done Les Chasseurs. Or more pointedly, a larger and more central image on a patterned background. Personally I’m not certain how I would interpret a falling rabbit, a falling bird sometimes can be considered a Stymphalian bird (from the sixth labor of Hercules) but that would be a humongous stretch in this case. And there is tons of fodder on and about falling men, if you need help click here. But I’m not quite sure what to make of the bones or the red and black checked backgrounds for the animals (aren’t picnic tablecloths typically red and white?) She also worked on the frames – but her pictures are too small for me to make out what she did to them, and as I previously mentioned I wasn’t allowed to take any pictures.
La Chute I, The Rabbit by Diane Dubeau, photo by Paul Litherland
La Chute II, The Man by Diane Dubeau, photo by Paul Litherland
La Chute III, The Bird by Diane Dubeau, photo by Paul Litherland
Next on the wall is Alambic de Creation. But as the cops say, “Nothing to see here, keep moving…”
Which brings us to Les Griffes I, II and III. Subtitled Fausses, Dégriffes, and Piercing (or in the words of squareheads, “fake, declawed and piercing.” I didn’t translate the word “griffes” because it can either mean fingernails, claws or a bunch of other things (including, interestingly, a cut of meat at the front of the shoulder) and my best guess would be that Ms. Dubeau is playing off of that double meaning in this work. Basically three plaster casts of a pair of hands, one would presume Ms. Dubeau’s hands, one pair with a fake set of very red nails, one pair broken off at the intermediate phalanges and the third pair which has those plastic beads (aka “perles synthétiques”) glued to them. What they have to do with hunting, I’m not entirely certain, but the bright red fake nails and plastic beads contrast quite well on the white plaster.
Les Griffes I, Fausses by Diane Dubeau
Les Griffes II, Dégriffes by Diane Dubeau
Les Griffes III, Piercing by Diane Dubeau
Tableaux de chasse,William Holman Hunt,hunting paintings whatever you want to call them ,the stuff exhibited by Diane Dubeau ain’t half bad. As a polemic about watching what you eat and how you eat it, it fails. PETA does this sort of stuff all the time – and while they aren’t a local Montreal artist – their tactics are much more effective. Then, if you listen to hunters who hunt to eat (aka folk like Ted Nugent) they are thousands of time more aware of environmental concerns, societal worries, social norms and just about anything else you can think of. As a means to quote, enlighten, unquote the general public about hunting and/or the source of their food Tableaux de chasse also fails, but not because of the content, but because of the container. I would guess that on a good day the Maison de la Culture Frontenac gets maybe 50 people coming in to see an exhibit. The show is up for 45 days, which means that if every day is a good day 2,250 people see the exhibit. Last I heard there were more than 3 million people living in Montreal, 2,250 isn’t even enough to be called a “drop in the bucket” if you’re talking about the general public. While Ted Nugent Spirit of the Wild might not be seen by as many people as the Super Bowl, but I’m fairly certain that more than 2,250 people watch it.
If I start to talk about the quality of Ms, Dubeau’s work there are obviously some pieces that are executed better (Famille des Lapins) than others (Alambic de Creation) and while the majority of the work in the show is painting the work that is most effective is surprisingly, not the paintings. Whether it is the frames with knitted bullets, the plaster cast hands, or the assemblages, they are all executed very well, in a witty fashion that is quite engaging. Don’t get me wrong, there are non-paintings that aren’t executed well (Alambic de Creation) and there are paintings and there are paintings that are very well executed (Chute I) but if you’re going to get into generalizations, better to stick with the non-paintings. And that to me seems to be the biggest problem with the exhibit, it wants to have a focus, but doesn’t. You’re initially lulled into thinking it’s about hunting or food or something and then out of the blue you get some hands clawing at you. You’re initially lulled into thinking it’s an exhibit of paintings and then out of the blue there are a bunch of bones. But Ms. Dubeau definitely has some mulie in her, and I would imagine that her next show will be closer to the aforementioned 15-point antlers.
Diane Dubeau, Tableaux de chasse is at the Maison de la Culture Frontenac, 2550, rue Ontario Est until August 27, 2011. The Maison de la Culture Frontenac is open Tuesday to Thursday from 13h to 19h, and on Friday and Saturday from 13h to 17h.
You’d think in a town with so many art magazines, and so much art, that it wouldn’t be that difficult to get a review someplace. Especially for an out-of-towner, someone from Belgium, someone who’s had a career for more than 20 years. But nope, getting a review in this town is not as easy as you would think.
Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli is a case in point. According to the press release she is Director of Contemporary Textile Art Research at the Centre de la Tapisserie, des Arts du Tissu et des Arts muraux de la Communauté française de Belgique (yeah, it’s a mouthful). So we know that some people someplace think she’s important. Born 74 years ago, you’d again think that with a continental culture, like we have here in Quebec, that there would be some respect towards elders. But nary a word. And then on top of it, one of the significant themes of her work is recycling and by extension saving the planet – but no one has seen fit to write about her or her work. Except of course for your trusty scribe here.
Rouge Baleri by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli
It might have been easier if they allowed picture taking at the Maison de la Culture Frontenac, but they don’t so don’t tell anyone you saw these pictures, ok? It can be our secret. Without pictures it would be kind of tough to show you what Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli’s work looks like. And while the internet it still mainly text based a well placed picture, even if taken badly by your trusty scribe, can go a long way towards illustrating things.
On first glace Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli’s work looks kind of like what I imagine Mediterranean fishing nets from the 1920s would look like. Albeit instead of being hung from strings on a beach to dry, they’re suspended in a couple of different ways on the walls of what they call “Studio 1″ and lit in an extremely dramatic fashion. Imagine if you will that the beach is dark because it is night, and there is a thunderstorm and while you can’t hear the thunder, when the lightning strikes it illuminates the nets, which just so happen to be brightly colored in a variety of hues.
I screwed up and didn't write down the name of the title to this piece by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli
There are also some smaller framed swatches of fabric (and things approaching fabric) which I wasn’t all that impressed with, and a bolero jacket worthy of the finest Carmen Miranda impersonator ever along with some pretty gosh darn cool necklaces and/or bracelets.
However, in fact, they aren’t old-school fishing nets at all. But rolled up and knotted candy wrappers (for the most part). I’m not certain if I would love or hate being Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli’s dentist. Because I can’t imagine that she throws away the candy just because she needs the wrapping. Either they are making scads of cash because of all of her cavities, or all the cavities I imagine she has from of eating all that candy, or they are completely overworked because of all of her cavities (imagined or real).
For the most part they are European brands so I am not as familiar with the candies themselves, but they do make for some stunning work. What she does is roll ‘em up so that they become string like and then tie them together, all the while attaching other wrappers in order to add texture and depth. There’s a white one along one wall, a red one suspended against a corner, a red and white one along another wall and a multicolored one in a corner on the floor.
Swoop by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli
The red one is called “Rouge Baleri” and was made in 2008. I need to double check, but I think the tag on the floor explaining the whos, whats and whens of the piece has a mistake. I wrote down “Baler Cerutti,” when in fact there is a pretty fancy-ass Italian design company called Cerutti Baleri. Apparently the piece was made for them and is now owned by their art director Federico Carandini. What initially got me wasn’t how it was made, or what it was made of, but the shadows that it cast. I told you that the work was lit in a very dramatic fashion.
It is suspended across the far corner of “Studio 1″ and is lit by spotlights that cast shadows on the floor and walls. See the picture that I wasn’t allowed to take for more information.
The shadows cast by Rouge Baleri by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli
Now you can make some obvious and overt connections between the medium that Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli uses (bits of paper that are typically discarded) and recycling, consumerism and a wide variety themes of a similar nature. But that’s like shooting fish in a barrel. What I would prefer to know is how Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli gets her bits of paper. I can’t quite imagine her dumpster diving, and at the same time I can’t quite envision her going to whatever is the Belgian equivalent of Walmart or Costco and buying all their Bacci chocolates. If I were in her shoes, I’d probably end up going to the candy company and asking if they would give or sell me a mess of their wrappers. And if this is the case, then it kind of puts a crimp in any recycling/consumerism theme. Kind of like driving to the voting station in your SUV in order to vote for the Green Party.
But enough of trying to rain on Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli’s parade, that’s not what I want to do at all. I quite like her work, but there are certain times when you don’t want to be in lockstep with the party.
Bolero MMM by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli
One piece though that does make a very strong point about reducing reusing and recycling is the “Bolero MMM.” Now, as you might suspect, I’m not big into haute couture. I’m more a jeans and t-shirt sort of person. Originally made for Maurizio Galante‘s January 2011 fashion show. (And as an aside what is in the air these days about putting fashion designers’ work in art galleries? Alexander McQueen at the Met, Jean-Paul Gaultier at the MBAM and Maurizio Galante at the MdC Frontenac… And I also find it interesting that in certain situations Mr. Galante gets the credit and in other situations Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli gets the credit…) According to the tag it’s made from candy, cardboard from melon boxes, cut up whiskas (I imagine that they really mean cut up Whiskas boxes) nylon string, cut up water bottles yarn knots all as they put it “assemblés.” All-in-all in the context of an art gallery it makes a pretty compelling argument about how much packaging there is that just goes to waste. Although I kind of have a feeling that it was as compelling of an argument when it was being worn on a Parisian catwalk. Personally I just want to know how much Mr. Galante is charging for Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli’s work (or the flip side, how much she charged him to make it).
"Bolero MMM" from Maurizio Galante 2011 Collection, photo from Faceculture
I also find it perplexing that given how important and significant the fibre arts are here in Montreal, between Concordia’s program in fibre, the Musée du costume et du textile du Québec and Diagonale sewing is pretty hot here in town, that Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli’s show hasn’t gotten more notice. Me on the other hand, despite not being able to take pictures am doing my darndest to let people know about Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli’s work.
And oops, before I forget there is one more set of stuff that deserves your attention. Just beside the doorway there’s a display case holding some necklaces and what are called “sculptures.”
Necklaces and Scultpures by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli
The show is up until the 27th of August, the MdC Frontenac is open Tuesday to Saturday from noon, and is on top of the Frontenac metro station. You have no excuse not to see it.