In this article by Martine Turenne from Agence QMI, Simon Blais is quoted as saying that he raised the price on a Lemieux painting he is selling by $300,000 and that buying art is “always a safe bet.”
In this article by John Archer in the Gazette, he writes “buy pieces that will give you pleasure during your lifetime and not to worry about the investment component unless you play in that rarefied field of the ultra-rich collector.”
If you want to see the flip side to Lynne Marsh‘s Philharmonie Project (Bruckner: Symphonie No. 5 Movements 1 & 4) it’s relatively simple
Click on “play.” To back up slightly for those of you who might not know what I am talking about. As part of the The Québec Triennial the Musée d’art contemporain de Montréal decided to spread its wings and exhibit art outside of the museum. One of the pieces chosen for the extra-muro treatment is Lynne Marsh‘s Philharmonie Project (Bruckner: Symphonie No. 5 Movements 1 & 4). It is a four channel video projected on one screen in a small dark room off of the Espace Culturel Georges-Émile-Lapalme at Place des arts that has three sets of bleachers installed campfire style around the screen.
As is written in the press release Ms. Marsh “turned her camera [sic] on the crews shooting a concert by the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra as it plays a piece by Anton Bruckner.” That piece is his fifth symphony conducted by Bernard Haitink on March 12, 2011. If you have an extra €9.90, you can watch the entire concert here. (It’s the only performance of Bruckner’s Symphony No. 5 that has been filmed by the Berliner Philharmoniker prior to the Triennial).
Or more explicitly, there are four cameras trained on a bunch of different people in the broadcast booth, each of whom has a different responsibility during the broadcast. (And what is it with red and blue checks in the control room? The two main characters wear them; one on his shirt, the other on his scarf.)
I’m not certain why Ms. Marsh chose to only use the first and the fourth movements. I can only guess that it was either due to technical glitches while recording the second and third movements. Or perhaps a rights issue, and the Berliner Philharmoniker preferred not give her a complete recording. I don’t know enough about German Copyright law to venture an idea based on that, so I’ll stick to “something screwed up with the cameras, and there was this deadline, and, and, and…” But to remind you, I have been wrong in the past, and I will be wrong again in the future, so there is no guarantee that I am right, now.
When I went to see it, there was this homeless guy hanging out on the bleachers watching it. I guess I kind of like the idea that Ms. Marsh makes art that is for everyone. But at the same time, it was cold outside, the room was dark and I’m not certain if we woke him up or not. So I’m not 100% certain if he was there because he enjoyed it and was interested in seeing it, or if he was there for other reasons. Anyhows, he was the only one there besides us, and for that I’d have to blame the museum and Place des arts. A small dark room off of the Espace Culturel Georges-Émile-Lapalme (aka the hallway in between Salle Wilfred Pelletier and Theatre Maisonneuve) is not exactly screaming out “look at me!” to all the passers by. And with the amount of flashing, flashy and bright videos all over the place in Place des arts, it’s quite easy to not even notice the room, let alone get the nerve up to hangout with the homeless while watching the technical side to parts of a symphony by Bruckner.
Given that Ms. Marsh’s Philharmonie Project (Neilsen: Symphony No. 5) Dry Run (see below) was done in close collaboration with Johanna Meyer-Grohbrügge and Sam Chermayeff of June14 I’m very surprised that the seating and its placement are so common and utilitarian.
While I can understand in theory why the museum tried to spread its wings for the Triennial, in practice placing anything that is even potentially art-like in Espace Culturel Georges-Émile-Lapalme is going to end up as a train wreck. The recent renovations have ruined Pierre Granche’s sculpture Comme si le temps… de la rue and as evidenced by the crowds lack of people watching Lynne Marsh‘s Philharmonie Project (Bruckner: Symphonie No. 5 Movements 1 & 4) I can only shake my head.
Unlike Rafael Lozano-Hemmer’s Architecture relationnelle 18. Intersection articulée Ms. Marsh’s piece was installed so as to be crowd unfriendly. As you enter into the dark room with the homeless man, you are first confronted by the backs of the bleachers that are at least five feet high, effectively creating a third barrier between you and the piece (the first being entering into a dark room in public, the second being entering into a room with someone who is homeless already there). Then as with most “Art” video installations, this is on an endless loop, which to me means that whomever is responsible for exhibiting the video has completely and thoroughly abdicated all responsibility towards making the artwork understandable. [Ed Note: To their credit, there is a 9:12 second gap at the end in order to make the entire loop 60 minutes. But there is no signage anywhere explaining when things start, and when I was there it started at 10 after the hour – I guess someone hit play a little late that morning]
OK, in some cases there actually are videos on a loop that do not have a beginning, a middle and an end, but as Ms. Marsh’s piece is based completely on a piece of music that does have a beginning, a middle and an end, to force the viewer to enter during the middle of the performance watch the end and then wait another 9 minutes for the beginning is just plain ridiculous. And that’s not even taking into consideration the fact that Ms. Marsh has truncated the performance itself by lopping off two movements.
As I mentioned earlier, multi-channel videos focusing on what happens behind the scenes of some insanely large public spectacle is not exactly an original idea. Which then leads me to ponder Ms. Marsh’s use of the first and last movements from Bruckner’s 5th symphony. (If you’d like to hear them, click on these: Movement 1: Introduction (Adagio) — Allegro. Movement 4: Finale (Adagio) — Allegro moderato).
I’m not exactly the best musicologist, but with a little bit of Google-Fu it’s possible to discover all sorts of things about Bruckner’s fifth symphony. According to Gabriel Engel [pdf alert] Bruckner “saw the Fifth as the deeply personal expression of a genius doomed to utter loneliness by the scorn and neglect of
a misunderstanding world. He caught in the Adagio the true spiritual keynote of the work. Its brooding main theme was the despairing utterance of abandoned genius.” It would have been nice if some of that personal expression had seeped through into Ms. Marsh’s video. Engel continues, “Far more than any of his other symphonies it is a polyphonic work, the composer’s proud description, ‘my contrapuntal masterpiece,’ testifying to the extraordinary care with which he had fashioned its many-voiced strains.”
Given the multichannel nature of Ms. Marsh’s video it would have been fairly simple to have used the video to, if not copy or follow the counterpoint, to create her own, but sadly she chose not to. Two of the cameras are entirely static and the other two for the most part do slow pans across a very limited field of vision.
If you’re interested in reading the score, click on this.
Lynne Marsh, Philharmonie Project (Neilsen: Symphony No. 5) Dry Run (picture taken from the catalogue to the Quebec Triennal 2011)
Interestingly enough in the catalogue to the Triennal, the pages committed to Ms. Marsh’s work also show images from something called Philharmonie Project (Neilsen: Symphony No. 5) Dry Run and in Marie Fraser’s essay that makes mention of Ms. Marsh she alludes to there having filmed the technicians during a performance of something by Mahler as well. Unfortunately Ms. Marsh’s website is not up to date so there is no information about it there. However, concurrently with the Triennal, she is exhibiting something called Philharmonie Project (Neilsen: Symphony No. 5) at Program in Berlin. According to the notes “the Philharmonie Project is a study on the staging of power systems, the cultural expression of mass consumption and the support structures that enable it to happen.” Which somehow gets translated for Quebec in the pages dedicated to Ms. Marsh in the catalogue of the Triennal as Ms. Marsh’s “practice is fuelled by a reflection on how these social spaces and their ideological orientation can be reconfigured through the camera lens.” I’m not so certain that I agree with either one. Earlier in the catalogue to the Triennal, Marie Fraser quotes Ms. Marsh as likening “the filming to a choreography, a dance where the rhythm and intensity of the music are translated by the action of the cameramen. Each image is precisely rendered: this is the camera as performer.”
If this was the case, then someone would be selling tickets to watch the cameras and not selling tickets to hear the music (or watch the soccer game, stock car race, etc.) What Ms. Marsh is doing is shedding light on what goes on behind the scenes, which while interesting to some, ultimately can’t compare to the the original cultural event or performance. In the same way many more people will see Hamlet than will ever see Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead.
And then as long as I am questioning things, given that the Triennal is a highly political exhibit, I’m not quite certain what to make of the fact that Ms. Marsh has been in both. Especially since she is no longer considered a “young” artist, and she’s got a gig as a senior lecturer at the University of Hertfordshire.
I haven’t quite come up with any specific theory or idea on or about the Triennal. But I also haven’t written anything about any of the art actually in the museum yet, either. I’m certain it’ll come, I just hope it’ll come sooner rather than later, because if I end up writing something like this for each of the artists involved, I’ll never get it done by the end of the week.
The Work Ahead of Us, indeed! I’ve heard some people mention that I haven’t been writing too too much about art recently, sorry. And now I’m about to make up for it. Since I have broached the multi-part review, I figure I can do it again, and again, and, well you get the picture. Last week I was able to go see The Québec Triennial 2011 and given that there are something like 50 different artists involved along with a 500 page catalogue, there should be a lot of work involved in reviewing it. If this works out, I figure it’ll take me at least five parts to wrest everything I think about the show out of my system. Apologies in advance if you like things short and sweet.
But since the show itself is a large sprawling show, I figure a large sprawling review is appropriate. I can only hope that my worst paragraphs aren’t as bad as the worst parts of the Triennial, but somehow I have this sinking suspicion that in fact they will be worse. More apologies in advance.
As far as I could tell, there was no real structure to the show. The first piece from it that I saw was Rafael Lozano-Hemmer‘s Architecture relationnelle 18. Intersection articulée.
I had gone to a friend’s house which just so happens to be about a block away from Place des Festivals and while I wasn’t able to make a special trip down there to go see it, once I was there, it seemed pretty darn foolish to ignore it.
So I played with the joysticks for about five minutes, looking up at the giant light sabres in the sky kind of trying to figure out how the whole thing worked. Somewhere I had heard that Mr. Lozano-Hemmer was using the very same spotlights that were used by the US government on the Mexican border, and that there was some kind of political statement being made by virtue of the fact that “the public” could in fact manipulate the search lights, in opposition to how they were normally controlled, which is by U.S. Customs and Border Protection Guards.
I’m not convinced that it works as such. The documentation was kind of sketchy, and having a political piece about the U.S. – Mexican border in downtown Montreal seems a little far-fetched. Almost like being a fan of the Canadiens in Mexico City.
However as a pretty spectacle temporarily juxtaposed against the Place Ville Marie searchlights on the Montreal skyline it worked very well. The chaotic nature of the 18 spotlights, all for the most part aimed vertically, versus the regularity and horizontal nature of the lights on Place Ville Marie make for a very nice couple.
One of the more interesting things about going to see it, was how self-referential it was. When someone would play with the joystick, they were pretty much always looking at the light that they controlled. If you weren’t controlling a joystick you were most likely taking a picture or a video of your friend who was controlling a joystick.
Viewing it from afar, it would crop up in your field of view, and compete for your attention depending on where you were in town, but very rarely would it be able to keep your (read “my”) attention for more than a couple of seconds.
Architecture relationnelle 18. Intersection articulée also works as a proxy for the entire Triennale québécoise 2011 in that it is self-referential, attracts attention briefly and like all the artwork that pops up on Place des Festivals disappears without leaving a trace.
I could also write about how Architecture relationnelle 18. Intersection articulée also was designed for people with short attention spans, wasn’t too too deep and the similarity to those searchlights that are rented by event planners for the opening of a new car dealership or a discotheque in order to attract more attention. But instead of doing that, I’ll leave it up to you to make those connections and any others that you can think of. Otherwise this review could end up as long as the catalogue.
How the heck is anyone going to get any sort of understanding or deeper comprehension on an exhibit that professes to be the definitive statement on art in Quebec in 2011 if the people who are paid to explain it to the general population, don’t even give it more than lip service. And what’s probably even worse is that I imagine the fine folk at the museum who are charged with things like tracking reviews are all quite chuffed about the reviews the show has received.
For the record, this is at 926 words and I’ve only mentioned one piece of art, in passing. In for a penny, in for a pound.
As long as we are on this tangent, I might as well apologize for the lack of pictures and videos, I asked the museum if I could go and take videos and was politely rebuffed, and after the issues the last two times I went to take still pictures, I decided to take my doctor’s advice and keep my blood pressure down, so we’re stuck with whatever I can find on YouTube, Flickr and the lousy reproductions I take myself from the catalogue (cf. paragraph 29 of the Canadian Copyright Act).
So how can I get this review back on track? Well, let’s start with perception, for those of you who have been under a rock for the last little while (and to be honest, I don’t blame you) or those of you from out-of-town and who don’t obsess over the microscopic Quebecois art world happenings, this is the second Triennial (website for the first is here). There is also a Biennial (more properly known here in town as The Biennale) and then just down the river there’s the Manif d’art (aka The Manifestation Internationale D’Art de Quebec). Or in other words there is a large overview of art made in Quebec, funded by the government every year (the Manif and the Biennale alternate years) and sometimes (like this year) there are two.
[As an aside, if you’re interested in hearing and seeing what I thought of this past year’s Biennale watch these.]
Given that any organization that gets money from the government and is successful in bringing in tourists, shouts about it from not only the tallest rooftops, but every darn rooftop in town; one, two, etc) I can only presume that since I haven’t heard about how many tourist dollars these art exhibits are responsible for, that they aren’t responsible for any. Which translates into they are all only playing for the locals. Which when you come to think about it, could be one major reason why art from Quebec isn’t appreciated much beyond the borders.
It’s that “definitive statement on art in Quebec in 2011” that kind of sticks in my craw. Looking back at the press release, they use sentences like “arriving at a comprehensive sense of Québec artistic practice in these early years of the twenty-first century.” and “a reference work on contemporary art in Québec” and while it’s very easy to think that something so large is definitive and comprehensive; from my perspective there are whacks and whacks (or if you prefer scads and scads) of artists who have been left out and ignored.
And that’s one place where I have some difficulties with The Triennale québécoise 2011 Le travail qui nous attend / The Work Ahead of Us. Like Rafael Lozano-Hemmer‘s Architecture relationnelle 18. Intersection articulée which can also be seen as just a bunch of light beams moving spastically across the sky, kind of like an ephemeral game of pick up sticks, there is something to be said about the spaces between the sticks that allow you to pick up the sticks without dislodging the others. The Triennial can also be likened to a random collection of similar objects that need to be organized, but once you recognize that the spaces in between the objects is as important as the objects themselves then it becomes easier to glom on to and get a grip on the show.
Initially, I thought I would reference my notes, the catalogue and what I could find on the internet to write about a paragraph or so on each artist involved in The Triennale québécoise 2011 Le travail qui nous attend / The Work Ahead of Us, but now I’m not so sure. I’m still going to reference my notes, the catalogue and what I can find on the internet to talk about the show, I’m just not so certain that a) It’s going to be a paragraph for each artist, and b) I hope that tomorrow I can discuss more than one work.
The Epic Meal Time BoysYouppiMichael VickMichael VickSome sort of mouseWhat happens when you do brick work on a wall with graffiti.Last year's piece by the artists who did the Epic Meal Time boys this year.The gasmask is pretty cool, and Cope2 is some kind of graffiti vedette.Maybe it's a skullAround the corner on EadieAround the corner on Eadie
On Sunday I went to Patrick Blaizel‘s La Maison des Encans de Montréal to see his auction of Canadian Art (and other things as well). I was only able to stay for 127 lots. By my count only 11 lots didn’t sell, which is a very big difference from the results at Iegor – Hôtel des Encans, where they only sold 46% of the lots.
By my calculations they grossed about $175,000 on those 116 lots. (Once again, take any figures I give with a grain of salt, trying to juggle a video camera, pen, paper and keep track of what happens is fraught with the possibility of making mistakes.) – All prices noted here include the 15% buyers premium and all local sales taxes. All the lots and how much they sold for are here.
The Auction Rules at Patrick Blaizel's La Maison des Encans de Montréal
Which sold for $12,446.31 and $10,088.06 respectively.
The altar with all the expensive pieces
The lowlight of the auction had to be this painting by André Bergeron, which even when the opening bid was lowered down to $50, did not get a single bid.
A print by André Bergeron
But besides the obvious differences between the auctions of M. Blaizel and M. de Saint Hippolyte, M. Blaizel sold real estate, furniture, collectibles and other things besides the art, the thing that fascinated me was the differences in their style of selling art. M. Blaizel clearly points towards the current high bidder, talks with the audience, offers certificates of authenticity, tells the audience when something doesn’t meet the reserve price and in general is much more transparent in how he does business.
Last week I went to see the Armand Vaillancourt exhibit at the Galerie Lounge TD in the Maison du Festival Rio Tinto Alcan. Off the top; I think that M. Vaillancourt is the bomb. Kick-Ass. About as close to godlike status you can get when you’re agnostic, atheistic or just can’t be bothered. So as advance warning, it is not likely that I am going to be objective.
The first thing that surprised me was that I wasn’t the only person in the gallery. I had heard that there had been some sort of peinture-en-direct event the week previous and figured that the folks behind the Jazz Festival, the Francofolies, the Hydro-Quebec festival of electricity (now that I write that name in jest, why hasn’t any Jewish, Hindu or Persian organization raised a fuss about Spectra completely co-opting Hanukah, Diwali and Chaharshanbe Suri? – For the agnostics, atheists and folk who just can’t be bothered in the house, Hanukah, Diwali and Chaharshanbe Suri some fairly heavy duty religious holidays that are also known as Festival of Light. The Spectra folk do this thing called the “Festival en lumiere” in order to rationalize how much money Hydro-Quebec gives them, that happens in February. Not that I’m saying anything. But just saying…
But I digress. Apologies. As I was saying, I completely and utterly expected to be the only person in the room, seeing as there hadn’t been any advertising that I had seen talking about how this was your last chance to see the Armand Vaillancourt exhibit. You know, the kind we’re about to be bombarded with for the Jean-Paul Gaultier show at the MBAM… But I wasn’t. There was actually a healthy crowd. I would venture a guess of about two dozen folk wandered in and around me during the hour that I hung out there. But as long as I’m being the extreme cynic, I’m convinced that all of them, all two dozen were heathen tourists from beyond our borders who wouldn’t know kick-ass art if it hit them in the ass and just were mindlessly following some hack tourist guide book that had taken journalistic shortcuts by republishing press releases issued by Spectra. Or maybe Spectra has started publishing tour guide books. I don’t know, but it was very surprising.
What wasn’t surprising, was that most of the work being exhibited was for sale and at very healthy prices I might add. Unfortunately I didn’t see any red dots signifying works that had sold. But that just might mean that the Spectra folk who are responsible for the gallery don’t know about red dots and how they are used to signify that a particular piece of art has in fact been sold. Although when I inquired at the desk (which thankfully was not staffed by a 20 year-old woman in a black micro mini skirt and 12 inch heels) if there was a list of all the works in the show, I was told that all the information was on the wall tags. Which would lead me to believe that if I had indeed (or one of the tourists) wanted to purchase a piece I would have been given M. Vaillancourt’s telephone number and told to contact him myself. So my best guess would be that a) nothing sold and b) that the Spectra folk don’t know about red dots.
But enough about the organization of the show, what about the art? Well, it was mostly made up of painting and prints. There were a couple of sculptures scattered about the room along with a couple of political pieces as well. The paintings and prints expressing quite clearly that M. Vaillancourt is an amazing sculptor. The political pieces show he has a great sense of humor but is better served earning his living as a sculptor than as a stand up comedian.
Installation view of the Armand Vaillancourt exhibit at the Galerie Lounge TD
There’s not much that can be said about the colorful abstract paintings. Well actually there is an awful lot that can be said about them. Things like the colors, the method of application to the canvas, the density, the patterns that they create and lots more. So if I were to be more precise, there’s not an awful lot that I want to say about the colorful abstract paintings. And even less about the monochromatic abstract prints. They are perfectly suited for hotels, large corporations and benefit auctions, all places where people like having “serious” art but really don’t spend all that much time looking at it and where the name “Armand Vaillancourt” will elicit sage head nodding and depending on what benefit auction or large corporation certain feelings of Quebecois pride.
American Imperialism by Armand Vaillancourt
One look at the political pieces and you get the point. They’re the proverbial one-trick pony. Which depending on your point of view is either exactly how they are supposed to work; get the point across quickly, easily and forcefully. Or their downfall; simplistic, lacking any depth and cartoonish. I tend to think of them as both. Sort of like a three-dimensional editorial cartoon designed to bring attention to some cause through the use of M. Vaillancourt’s name. It would be nice to have shown some of the more obscure causes that M. Vaillancourt supports instead of going for well-known and easy ones. But no one asked me.
Place Publique by Armand Vaillancourt (I think)
Which pretty much leaves us the maquettes or sculptures. There were four of them. If I remember correctly, they were called something like “Place Publique” or something else equally memorable (as an aside I made the complete and utter faux-pas of neither taking notes, nor taking pictures of the wall tags. I was totally unprofessional. Does anybody have a wet noodle handy? And sorry, I promise it won’t happen again.
Place Publique by Armand Vaillancourt (I think)
But now that I have that out of the way, I gotta say that despite the silly cutouts of people from magazines, that they were drop-dead gorgeous and amazing. I, honest to god, caught myself on a couple of times doing one of those reverse whistle intakes of breath and even once letting out a long low whistle. If they hadn’t been playing so much music from the 1980s in the place where I’ve been writing this, I might have even gone so far as to quote the band Berlin.
All but one were on stainless steel bases and used (what I presume) were recycled bits of metal to create forms based on symmetry and repetition. They kind of prove (to me at least) that M. Vaillancourt is a master of the form (or should I write that Master of the Form?) At some point I’m going to have to ask him how he came up with the ideas for them and how difficult it was to make them. From the monochromatic prints it is possible to see how they would lead to the maquettes. And I truly hope that they are indeed maquettes and not fully realized sculptures, because they would be breathtaking if blown up to monument size.
Place Publique by Armand Vaillancourt (I think)
Unfortunately my snapshots don’t do them the justice that they deserve. Some of them were placed directly in front of windows and I haven’t quite figured out what buttons I need to push on my camera when objects that I want to photograph are back lit and I also am not in the habit of carrying around a set of lights with me. Next time, I promise.
Beyond that, there wasn’t much. It kind of left me torn, one one side I really really liked the maquettes or sculptures. On the other side everything else kind of seemed “meh.” And while “I think that M. Vaillancourt is the bomb. Kick-Ass. About as close to godlike status you can get when you’re agnostic, atheistic or just can’t be bothered.” This show did nothing really to support my belief. I dunno, maybe the out and out commercialism in the “Galerie Lounge TD” or the way that everything was set up more as if it was a store than an art gallery had a stronger influence than I would like to admit.
Last week I went to Iegor – Hôtel des Encans to watch their auction of Canadian art (the first part at least). In total they were offering 350 lots. I stayed for about 170 or so, stopped taking notes at lot 149. It’s kind of difficult, keeping track of opening prices, closing prices, what sells, what doesn’t sell, and videotaping all at the same time… Next time I want to go with an assistant!
By my count (please take with a large grain of salt) 64 of the approximately 140 lots sold, or almost 46%. I have no idea if that is a good percentage or a bad percentage, although I’m, leaning towards a bad percentage. I’m going to have to track other auctions and other auction houses to see how this one compares.
Using my same rough calculation I would estimate the Canadian art section of the sale grossed about $230,000 – that’s including the 20% buyers premium and all taxes. (All prices noted here include the 20% buyers premium and all local sales taxes.)
The highlights being Tarozita by Jacques Hurtubise Tarozita By Jacques Hurtubise. Oil on Canvas, 1977 64" x 80"
Tarozita By Jacques Hurtubise. Oil on Canvas, 1977 64" x 80"Tarozita By Jacques Hurtubise. Oil on Canvas, 1977 64" x 80"Detail of Tarozita By Jacques Hurtubise. Oil on Canvas, 1977 64" x 80"Detail of Tarozita By Jacques Hurtubise. Oil on Canvas, 1977 64" x 80"
Which sold for $33,493.95.
An ink and watercolor composition by Jean-Paul Riopelle from 1961. Composition by Jean Paul Riopelle. Ink and watercolor on paper, 1961. 20" x 26"
Which sold for $24,607.80.
And a oil on masonite painting by Albert Dumouchel from the early 1960s called L’Alcazar which sold for $14,012.78.
Unfortunately Il a neigé sur Opinaca by Jean Paul Riopelle did not meet the reserve and did not sell.
Il a neigé sur Opinaca by Jean Paul Riopelle. Oil on canvas, 1967 36" x 26"The altar with all the expensive pieces
Oh, yeah. There was also this pair of lamps described as a “rare pair of Moor floor lamps. Glass and gilt metal chandeliers on glazed porcelain Moor busts on enameled metal pedestal. Milano, Italy circa 1960.” And apparently they were made by Piero Fornasetti.
A "rare pair of Moor floor lamps. Glass and gilt metal chandeliers on glazed porcelain Moor busts on enameled metal pedestal. Milano, Italy circa 1960." Made by Piero Fornasetti.A "rare pair of Moor floor lamps. Glass and gilt metal chandeliers on glazed porcelain Moor busts on enameled metal pedestal. Milano, Italy circa 1960." Made by Piero Fornasetti.
A short and mostly silent viseo I made on the exhibit at the Musée d’art contemporain de Montréal. Déjà, La Grand Déploiement de la Collection was the first time that the permanent collection had been exhibited in all eight galleries of the museum.
Episode 301 [11:30]
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The exhibition ran from May 26 to September 4, 2011 and was curated by Josée Bélisle.
An oil painting of either strawberries or potatoes (or perhaps red rocks from 3484 Hutchison) by Claude Picher made in 1973.An oil painting of a farmhouse by Claude Picher made in 1973.
Jean-François Talbot, Sylvie Dubuc and lain Dumouchel are the new “art cops” in Quebec these days and they are looking for these two paintings. If you’ve seen the paintings they ask that you contact them at (514) 598-4134 or art.alert@surete.qc.ca.
Back in May I went to the vernissage for the Invisible show at The Long Haul / Le Corrid’art. It was the day after I had bought my video camera, so obviously I had to film it… With a little bit of luck and some practice my filmmaking skills will get better.
Episode 296 [8:36]
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The pieces in order seen:
Kate Puxley
Still Life with Mouse
Taxidermy tilapia, bird and mouse, various plastics, Plexiglas, wire
2011
Kate Puxley
Senza Terra: Rat
Taxidermy rat and shadow box
2010
Suzanne Desbiens
Burqa ou Bikini ?
Technique mixte sur masonite
2011
Marc Knowles Studio 3
Unseen Polar Phenomenon 3
Acrylic, ink and household latex paint on wood
2011
Vanessa Yanow
Cashmere
Inherited sweater, lint roller and gel medium
2011
Dan Svatek & Rosalie Chrétien
Parallax Rosalies
Acrylic, oil, sparkles and jellybeans on canvas
2011
Vanessa Yanow
Collaborating with Her Story — Incarnation III (Anon.)
Unfinished anonymous embroidery project, flame-worked glass, kiln-formed and etched glass, paint, ink, copper wire, embroidery thread, needles, linen on wood and photograph mounted on Plexiglas
2011
Samantha Purdy
Broadcast
Cross-stitch, paper clips, tapestry wool, felt on Aida cloth
2011
Madeleine Mayo
A Sad Lovesong
Oil on canvas
2011
Stephen H. Kawai
A Device that Sucks the Darkness from the World, Makes It Invisible and Turns It into Salt
Glass, hematite, onyx, rutilated quartz, wire, salt
2011
Jocelyne Pronovost
L’indivisible tourment de l’être humain
Contenant de métal, peinture acrylique et graphite
2011
