Tag Archives: Roadsworth

Roadsworth by Roadsworth and Bethany Gibson with a foreword by Scott Burnham

Howdy!

A book review. Click here for details on the book.

I’ve read the Roadsworth book twice now. This is also the second time I’m writing a review. My first one was crap – take my word for it. I’m kind of torn about the book, which is quite possibly the reason why my first try at a review wasn’t good. On one hand I want to like it very much, on the other it could have been so much better. Neither animal, vegetable or mineral, it falls somewhere in between a catalogue of Peter Gibson’s work, a biography about Peter Gibson, and a pretty book of pictures taken by Peter Gibson. But let me back up a little bit.

A bunch of years ago (late 2004 to be exact) I met Peter Gibson. He (like me) has a second name, his is Roadsworth. When I was running Zeke’s Gallery I came across some of his work, took pictures of it and published them on the Zeke’s Gallery blog. Each time I came across another one, it was kind of a big deal. At the time there were some folk working with me, and when they would find another one of his pieces we’d all kind of jump up and down with glee and then I’d ask them to take a picture of it so as to try and compile some sort of online portfolio or something.

Anyhows, after publishing a bunch of pictures, Peter introduced himself to me, and me being the inquisitive person that I am, I asked him if I could interview him; for the record, on the blog. Much to my pleasure, he said “yes.” If you’d like to read it (all 17,000+ words…) it’s still kicking around (Part One, Part Two, Part Three, and Part Four). I’ve tried on a number of occasions to re-read it, but something always ends up dragging me into the present. I figure at some point I might get my act in gear and try to use them for something off-line, at which point I will probably be forced to re-read them (along with other things from my past) but until then, I think it far better to concentrate on the here and now.

All of which is a long-winded way of getting to the fact that after he got busted I decided that I wasn’t too fond of the idea of the city of Montreal attempting to put Peter in jail. So I did what I could to help to prevent it. About halfway through the book (unfortunately it does not have page numbers) he explains my involvement. Also, I should probably mention that this is about as far from an “objective” review as you can get as I am also thanked on the penultimate page of the book.

I’m not certain what it was exactly that first attracted me to his work. Knowing that my memory is crap, I can try to use hindsight to make some connections, but your guess is as good as mine if it is in fact “The Truth,” or just something that happens to make sense to me at this moment… I do know that I have always had an interest in what was on, and how the actual street/sidewalk was made. From playing skully and hopscotch as a young child, to carving my name in freshly poured concrete as a teenager and young adult, to duct taping “Zeke’s Gallery” on the sidewalk as an ersatz sign as a full-fledged adult, to critiquing sidewalk aesthetics as a middle aged man (soon come, promise) I’ve always paid attention to what was below my feet – heck, I don’t think I have stepped in dogshit in over 30 years. I also have a sneaking suspicion that my bicycle riding might have some bearing on it (after all, when riding a road bike an awful lot of your time is spent looking at the road.

While I’m fairly certain that Peter was not the first artist in the world to use the street/sidewalk/road as his canvas, he quite likely was the first one in Montreal. As such he definitely stood out from the crowd. Off the top of my head, other than the straight green line painted down Sainte-Catherine street to mark the route of the Saint Patrick’s day parade, I can’t think of any other official or unofficial redesign of Montreal streets prior to Peter’s interventions. The very nature of being “first,” enables an awful lot. Whether it is winning a race or garnering outsized attention, being first always helps.

The book itself reads kind of like an oversized business card or perhaps an embellished CV. Which in itself is made even more obvious by the inclusion of an artsy embellished CV at the end of the book, conveniently labeled “chronology.” While the book doesn’t quite go from birth to the present, it also reads somewhat like a biography. Peter was born in Toronto, moved to Montreal to go to school, starts stenciling illegally, gets busted, becomes famous, ends up stenciling legally, rides off into the sunset with his girlfriend, roll credits (ok, I made those last two bits up, but you get the picture).

As I was reading it, I wrote down some of the more interesting passages, such as: “There is an experiential harmony in the process of understanding Roadsworth’s work – a harmony between learning his language and reconsidering our own understanding and behavior within the city.” Perfect grant application vocabulary that doesn’t really say or add anything about the work.

For the most part, the most effective pieces done by Peter are those that are 2D visual puns. They are short, sweet and to the point. Adding to existing signage or features of the urban landscape he tweaks things. Similar to Henny Youngman or Don Rickles in that his best work is effectively a one-liner that makes you laugh. Trying to imbue it with a deeper meaning or more significance just really doesn’t work.

Another interesting passage; he “creates brief moments where the imbalance of presence among the elements sharing the streets is redressed.” Or “a rare element of poetic discovery of the potential stored within the normally anonymous pavements.” Or “Roadsworth awakens and reveals a dormant energy contained within the street and the urban ephemera.” I could go on, but you get the point. Thankfully there are pictures, lots and lots of pictures. And to be fair, the whole book isn’t written in grant-speak.

One surprising thing for me to discover was that when he ‘really’ got busted by the cops, it wasn’t completely out of the blue. They had picked him up once and given him a warning, caught him a second time and given him a ticket before The Bust in November 2004. That was one of the things that had always bugged me about Peter’s getting busted. It seemed to me to be way too hard and heavy for a first time.

In 2001 I was exhibiting art by Maclean, which included, ostensibly the ‘first’ Art/Arrret sign he did. Before you get completely lost and your eyes glaze over, let me back up slightly. In Montreal, for those who don’t know, Stop signs say “Arret.” Maclean had decided that he was going to use red duct tape to cover up the first R and the E of the word “Arret.” In effect telling cars to stop for art. It was extremely simple, very catchy, effective and garnered a fair bit of attention.

As a consequence of him putting duct tape on stop signs, Maclean was invited to “chat” with the cops. After his “chat” he decided to stop putting duct tape on stop signs. I had previously thought for some reason or another that wasn’t the case with Peter. Call me naïve, simpleminded or just plain silly. I’ll definitely cop a guilty plea to that.

The middle of the book goes into some detail about some of his larger pieces locally (at the Darling Foundry, Place D’Armes metro and the Canadian Centre for Architecture). Mostly about the process and circumstances. It does veer off into some territory that could be called theoretical and preachy. Then towards the end it loses all sense of narrative and becomes more of a picture book.

Which brings me to my main point, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone write of or about, nor heard anyone speak of or about specific works by Peter. It always seems to be gross generalizations. With writers, some books are better than others. With actors some performances are better than others. With artists some paintings are better than others. With Peter I haven’t heard a peep about his zippers versus his owl versus his bike paths versus his flocks of birds, etc.

It’s all the more surprising since Scott Burnham, the guy who was supposed to co-curate the 2009 Montreal Biennale but bailed at the last minute, writes the foreward to the book. It would have been a perfect place to do a serious critique of Peter’s work. But instead he decided to use an awful lot of extra syllables to say not a whole heck of a lot. (Most of the quotes I took were from the foreward). I’m already on record as to what I think of Peter’s most recent work, someone else should go back over his earlier work and try to explain how it all fits together.

It would have been nice to know when and where all the pictures were taken, instead of just presenting them as stand-alone objects. Which makes me think, that despite all the preaching about integrating Peter’s work with the environment and how context is king, that in fact instead of being a “street” artist, he really would like to have the photographs of the work he has done considered as art.

Given Peter’s inherent ambivalence, I shouldn’t be surprised that the book is like New Shimmer (It’s a floor wax! No, it’s a desert topping!) but because it tries so hard to be so many things, it ends up leaving me kind of empty.

Roadsworth & Brian Armstrong, Fragile at the Eaton Centre

Howdy!

Your friend and mine, Roadsworth appears to be cashing in on his fame. If you haven’t heard, The fine folk who own the Eaton Centre hired him and his friend Brian Armstrong to make a quote, installation, unquote. Initially I thought “great!” but then upon hearing more about it, I started to think that it might just be an attempt to Greenwash Ivanhoe Cambridge (aka the Caisse de dépôt et placement du Québec).

It’s gotten a fair bit of mainstream press (more and still more) some random bloggers, and a bunch of websites made by (and for) the creators, but no real critical analysis. Which further solidified my thoughts about the Greenwashing. But I figured I would reserve any and all judgment until after I visited the mecca of consumerism.

Generic photo of "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre
Generic photo of "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre

Well I made it there today. And in my humble estimation, it is Greenwashing.

I hear you ask; “Hey dude, why do you think it is Greenwashing?” Well let me tell you…

Part of the didactic display for "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre.
Part of the didactic display for "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre.
Another generic photo of "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre where I was unable to avoid the advertisement for Virgin mobile.
Another generic photo of "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre where I was unable to avoid the advertisement for Virgin mobile.

First off, if it wasn’t greenwashing, why does the didactic display look like some sort of advertisement?

Second off, if it wasn’t greenwashing, why is it impossible to avoid the ads when looking at the “art?”

And third off, if it isn’t greenwashing, why is it that there are 12 year-olds in Montreal who could have done a better job? I don’t know how many of you saw Arrimage 2010 – Distortion, but I did, and this is what I said about it last year. And for that matter Arrimage happens every year at the Musée d’art contemporain de Montréal (2009 version, 2011 version) It is an exhibit of art made by elementary and high school students that is then exhibited at Musée d’art contemporain de Montréal. Since schools don’t have an awful lot of cash for art supplies, very frequently they use trash and other recycled material. And I can say without a doubt, that there is stuff I’ve seen in the Arrimages that beats Fragile hand-down.

Something that looks like a frog made out of a milk container sitting on a cardboard lily at "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre.
Something that looks like a frog made out of a milk container sitting on a cardboard lily at "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre.
Flowers made from soda cans and cups at "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre.
Flowers made from soda cans and cups at "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre.

Now my not-even-two-year-old nephew could have made those. (Actually I take that back, his mother would have killed me and then strung me up by my balls for the dogs to eat if I let him use a pair of scissors to cut up the cups.) But you get my drift, right?

The underside of "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at teh Eaton Centre.
The underside of "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at teh Eaton Centre.

Now, despite my complaining, it isn’t all crap. I gotta hand it to whomever was the person who came up with the idea of turning one of the holes in the Eaton Centre into a 3-D pond. The quote, fish, unquote, below the quote, water, unquote, is a stroke of genius. Pity that that level of thought couldn’t be upheld for the entire project.

BGL on the other hand, is a group of artists who can keep up a certain level of quality in their art, while at the same time making extremely pointed commentary on consumerist culture.

And as long as I am handing out compliments, Fragile by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre does get noticed by the shoppers.

Some shoppers looking at "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre.
Some shoppers looking at "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre.
Some more shoppers looking at "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre.
Some more shoppers looking at "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre.

And I presume that getting people to stop is one of its primary purposes.

Another reason that I think it is Greenwashing, is this:

The massive touch screen thing used to explain an ecosystem almost as far removed from The Eaton Centre as the moon. It gets bonus points for allowing the organizers to use the words "interactivity" and "multi-media."
The massive touch screen thing used to explain an ecosystem almost as far removed from The Eaton Centre as the moon. It gets bonus points for allowing the organizers to use the words "interactivity" and "multi-media."

Quick, guess how much that thing cost? And then how much to create the program (ok, you can call it an app, if you like) to explain ecosystems? And while I’m at it, although you really can’t tell it from here, the screen is not at an appropriate height for children, who I would presume are the intended audience.

Oh, and if you’re interested, my guess would be about $10,000 for the touch screen and another $10,000 for the program. I wonder if Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong saw any of it? Personally I would think that most of the cash was scooped up by Genevieve Kelly who appears to be the brains behind Projek room. Because not only is there the massive touch screen, but then there are also the videos! (Click on this link for the Projek room’s videos) All five of them.

Given that the Eaton Centre has displayed the corpses of Chinese political prisoners, I’m inclined to believe that their ethics, when it comes to presenting exhibitions are not of the highest caliber. And while one might think that they present exhibitions in order to entice people in the doors, figuring that once you’re in the Eaton Centre, you are much more likely to make a purchase than if you were not. But I personally believe that they are actually looking to manipulate their public image. Or in blunter terminology, they want to look good, they don’t really want people to think that all they are interested in is more money.

When more than 75,000 people each day walk through it (more than 3,000/hour if it was open 24 hours every day) it’s kind of difficult to get a handle on whether there are more people showing up at the Eaton Centre because of an exhibit, or if they present an exhibit in order to appease and appeal to the people who already frequent the Eaton Centre. My guess is the later. But as I am fond of saying, I have been wrong before, and I will be wrong in the future.

As well, I’ve rambled on here for more than 1,200 words. Far more than I intended. I think I’ve made my point that the actual exhibit is more craft-like than art; that it doesn’t represent the highest caliber of craft; and that I think it is all an attempt on the part of Ivanhoe Cambridge (aka the Caisse de dépôt et placement du Québec) to make most people think that they actually care about the environment, when in fact all they really care about is accumulating as much money as possible.

I’ve got some more pictures, but I really should wrap it up here. By all means go see it yourself and make up your own mind. They don’t throw it out until the end of October.

Oooh! An elevator shaft covered in cardboard!
Oooh! An elevator shaft covered in cardboard!
OMIGAWD!! Used water bottles stuck to the side of an escalator in a wavy pattern!!!
OMIGAWD!! Used water bottles stuck to the side of an escalator in a wavy pattern!!!
The view from above
The view from above
More cardboard used to cover columns.
More cardboard used to cover columns.
Superfluous photo of a young-ish woman taking a picture of "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre.
Superfluous photo of a young-ish woman taking a picture of "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre.
Superfluous photo of an older woman taking a picture of "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre.
Superfluous photo of an older woman taking a picture of "Fragile" by Roadsworth and Brian Armstrong at the Eaton Centre.