Audio clip: Adobe Flash Player (version 9 or above) is required to play this audio clip. Download the latest version here. You also need to have JavaScript enabled in your browser.
Initially back at the beginning of the year when Publicité Sauvage started celebrating their silver anniversary I was quite excited. I figured that a year long celebration involving 15 different exhibits at a variety of different venues could be an amazing thing. Unfortunately my idea and those of Publicité Sauvage haven’t quite jibed. Where I was thinking some far reaching history of events in Montreal, rigorously documented and thematically linked, offering accessible but relevant exhibits than were engaging and entertaining. They were thinking something more along the lines of let’s try to hang as many old posters as we have in as many different places around the city as possible, and while we’re at it, documentation, visibility and coherence be damned.
What has been offered has been a hastily and shoddily thrown together series of exhibits that seem more like an afterthought to the book/catalogue (which itself is more like a hagiography than a critical analysis). None the less, any celebration of a past which is just far enough away that I can only view it through a serious haze is always welcome. Back at the start, I was all full of ideas about how I was going to write a gazillion and a half words on each and every show. I was going to do deep research to not only find out who designed each poster, but where it was printed, what kind of paper and then find reviews and articles on line that discussed the events on the poster. Yeah, right. That and $2 will get me a cup of coffee. As it turned out, I got to see four of the first five exhibits. (If you’re interested, you can read what I wrote about 1/15, 2/15 and 3/15 here and what I wrote about 5/15 here.)
So, since my sights have been lowered, I’m combining exhibits 6/15, 7/15, and 8/15 into one review here and now, and I reserve the right to change my mind again and again and again for any and all of the exhibits yet to come. Exhibit 6/15 was at city hall and involved a bunch of posters loosely grouped together as large events that happened in Montreal.
Installation view of the Publicité Sauvage 25½ exhibit 6/15 at City Hall.Installation view of the Publicité Sauvage 25½ exhibit 6/15 at City Hall.Installation view of the Publicité Sauvage 25½ exhibit 6/15 at City Hall.Installation view of the Publicité Sauvage 25½ exhibit 6/15 at City Hall.
Exhibit 7/15 was at the Monument National and involved (for the most part) things that had happened in theatres.
Installation view of the Publicité Sauvage 25½ exhibit 7/15 at the Monument NationalInstallation view of the Publicité Sauvage 25½ exhibit 7/15 at the Monument National
Exhibit 8/15 was way the heck out in the middle of buttfuck nowhere (aka Tohu) and consisted of some circus posters, and in passing was when and where I realized what was being shown on the walls, what was being written up in the book/catalogue, what was going to written up in the grant report and what was going to be remembered by people who saw any of the exhibits were four completely, utterly and entirely different things unrelated to each other like me, Buddha, Mama Cass Elliot and Fireball Roberts (go look them up on Wikipedia, I’ll wait)
Installation view of the Publicité Sauvage 25½ exhibit 8/15 at TohuInstallation view of the Publicité Sauvage 25½ exhibit 8/15 at Tohu
I don’t know who is responsible, but I can only guess that it is Marc H. Choko who is listed as curator all over the place. But he shows a remarkable lack of vision and creativity given the milieu he has chosen to immerse himself in. Pinning up old posters to office cubicle dividers, no matter how good or great awesome the posters are is just doing them a disservice. No they do not need to be framed, but the posters need to be treated with some respect. I would venture a guess that the book/catalogue will/has sold in the low four figures ($40 isn’t cheap, I need to thank Emmanuel Galland, yes that Emmanuel Galland for my copy, he was/is the publicist for the Publicité Sauvage 25½). However I would venture another guess that upwards 1 million people will see the individual exhibits, counting geeks like me seven different times for the seven different exhibits I’ve seen one time each. How many people walk through City Hall every day? 2,000? The exhibit was up there for two weeks. If my guess is right that means 30,000 people saw it. There are 14 other exhibits in certain cases, places that have even higher traffic for a longer period of time (number 9/15 is going to be at Place des Arts for a full month).
As I have seen them so far, the exhibits have served as a kind of variation on the game Concentration, or if you prefer, how many of the events shown can you remember? But then the minute I turned away from the exhibit, I forgot what posters were there. Instead of just presenting nine Cirque du Soleil posters with a minimum of information
Installation view of the Publicité Sauvage 25½ exhibit 8/15 at Tohu
how difficult would it have been to spend a couple of bucks at a printshop on some plastic lettering that was then stuck on the wall explaining which poster was the very first Cirque du Soleil poster that Publicité Sauvage handled. Or some bafflegab and goobledygook as to why they don’t have a complete collection of posters from the 30 productions the Cirque du Soleil has done to date. Or heck a headshot of the person who drew the first poster along with their name in something just a little bit larger than 10 point type.
It’s almost as if M. Choko insisted that he follow the guidelines for the actual poster hangers that Publicité Sauvage hires. But without the added benefit of having multiple copies to hang.
Then if I really let loose, I honestly don’t think that an exhibit at the Centre d’Histoire de Montreal in 1995 counts as a “événements marquants de Montréal” (and it probably wouldn’t hurt either if they figured out some way to stop the posters from gapping while being exhibited, but I might be nitpicking here…)
Installation view of the Publicité Sauvage 25½ exhibit 6/15 at City Hall
Nor do I think a poster for an album belongs in a collection of theatre posters
Installation view of the Publicité Sauvage 25½ exhibit 7/15 at the Monument National
And then for the biggest WTF, did Publicité Sauvage somehow build a Latvian division after they couldn’t even figure out Toronto to save their life
Installation view of the Publicité Sauvage 25½ exhibit 8/15 at Tohu
Or did they, after the fact discover that there was way more wall space at Tohu than posters that they had mounted? I dunno, but as you can tell by the awesome amount of publicity that M. Galland has been able to accrue since January the entire city has been held enthralled by multiple exhibits of self-serving publicity that Publicité Sauvage has been able to garner – end sarcasm now.
I’ll wait until later in the year to even bring up to various conflicts of interest. And my expectations for 9/15 through 15/15 have been knocked lower than any sub basement you’ve ever visited in your life. I’m going to do my best to see the remaining shows, but while I’m fairly convinced that I am the only person in the entire universe who isn’t paid by Publicité Sauvage who has seen 87.5% of the shows so far, it ain’t like I’ve seen them all, and as a consequence trying to keep up to some unattainable level and promising to see every last one, is just a little bit beyond me now. Hopefully M. Choko is capabloe of learning from past mistakes and the stuff that he shows in the fall/winter season lives up to my initial expectations.
But I’m not holding my breath… Nor would I suggest you do either.
I’ve seen some banners on lampposts over town advertising artactuelcentreville.com. I kept trying to remember to see what it was about, but somehow it took me a good year (at least) before I came across one of their maps at Vox, and stuck it in my pocket as a mnemonic aid – note to self, banners on lampposts are not a very good way to publicize websites.
I think it was something started by Artexte, and professes to be, In their own words, an “essential tool for locating downtown Montreal’s many contemporary art venues…”
Can you say, in my words, “No,” “Major Fail,” and “Embarrassingly Bad”?
Art Actuel Centre Ville Montreal Map
Yup, that’s right, according to Artexte (who should know better) and GreenCopper, the folk who designed it, there are only eight (8), yes that’s right, two more than half-a-dozen, places and 24 art venues exhibiting contemporary art in downtown Montreal (and they’ve even gone so far as to include one place in Old Montreal, too)
I won’t even mention that somehow they believe that downtown Montreal starts at Saint Alexandre street and only goes as far east as Berri. But to make things even more egregious, they do include a bookstore and a cinema, and administrative offices for a Cultural NGO, none of which (as far as I know) have ever shown any contemporary art ever. For a place that has as a mandate “the advancement of the visual arts through reliable information sources” this is a gross abdication of their responsibilities, made worse because they used public money to make it. Public money for the arts from the Federal Government for which I am certain there are many, if not tons of other organizations and artists that could have used it, and put it to much better use.
On Tuesday I went to the auction of (mostly) Canadian Art at Iegor – Hôtel des Encans. It was vaguely frustrating as less than 50% of the lots offered up for sale sold. I don’t know if that was due to reserves being placed to high, or lack of interest, or if it was more indicative of lower quality work, or something else entirely.
The scene before the auction at Iegor De Saint Hippolyte’s place.
I was interested in it because of a bunch of items, specifically two Marcel Barbeau paintings, prints by a Johanne Corno, Alfred Pellan and Jacques Hurtubise, a Zilon painting and a Robert Roussil sculpture. Along the way there was also Vladimir Lebedev print, some Frère Jérôme stuff and three Fernand Toupins that looked kind of funky. Overall Iegor – Hôtel des Encans grossed almost $250,000. (Please take care when quoting my figures, taking notes at an Iegor auction is not an easy thing, there are numerous question marks in my notes and while I would feel comfortable using them as a rough guide, I would not trust them to be the definitive word – there is a reason why M. De Saint Hippolyte is extremely secretive).
The blockbuster, if you can call it that, was a pair of Cloisonné Qilin (Cloisonnéd Qilins?) that went for $30,353.40 with the 20% buyer’s premium and taxes included (all prices quoted here have the 20% buyer’s premium and taxes included). It seems to me that while M. De Saint Hippolyte initially made his name selling Quebecois art, he is more and more moving into the more generalized practice that really doesn’t differentiate objects that cost a chunk of change and takes advantage of the fact that most potential buyers will be first time, only time buyers from him. Emphasizing that while they know the objects in question (such as the Cloisonné Qilin in question) and therefore unlikely to overpay, there are a bunch of practices that M. De Saint Hippolyte can employ to obtain fair market value.
Iegor – Hôtel des Encans, Lot #11, June 19, 2012 Pair of Qilin Cloisonné
I’m always a large believer in taking full advantage of arbitrage, buying winter coats and boots in the middle of the summer, buying baseball cards of Tampa Bay Rays’ players in Seattle, playing Beach Boys songs in December, etc. In short going against the grain. Shorter still: Contrarian.
So you’d figure that after this much time M. De Saint Hippolyte would have figured out how to maximize sales of and on Quebecois artists. That he would have fostered and promoted collectors of Quebecois art. But as far as I can tell paintings by Stanley Cosgrove, Goodrich Roberts and others of their ilk are still selling for about $5,000, like they were a decade and a half ago. a rising tide is supposed to lift all boats, but if the tide never comes then everything just remains beached. And from where I am sitting Quebecois art has been beached and left out to rot for the longest time. If a new painting by Zilon will cost something like five figure but you can pick up an older pre-loved one for $1,793.61 like someone did on Tuesday, why in anyone’s name would you buy new?
That all being said, I will repeat myself again and say that there is sole pretty gosh darn phenomenal art being made here right now (and in the past as well) but the people whose job and responsibility it is (like M. De Saint Hippolyte, Nathalie Bondil, Simon Blais, and others) to make the rest of the world aware of how amazing, kick-ass and wonderful the art made here is are dropping the ball and screwing around big time.
The Marcel Barbeau paintings at Iegor – Hôtel des Encans June 19, 2012. Neither one sold.Johanne Corno, Breast and Blue at Iegor – Hôtel des Encans, June 19, 2012. Did not sellJacques Hurtubise, Citrique at Iegor – Hôtel des Encans June 19, 2012. Sold for $1,655.64Alfred Pellan prints at Iegor – Hôtel des Encans, June 19, 2012
Pop Shop, the one on top sold for $1,103.76.l Au bord de la mer (on the bottom) did not sell.
Robert Roussil sculpture The tree of life from the Iegor – Hôtel des Encans auction June 19, 2012. Sold for $12,417.30.Zilon, Se dire adieu at the Iegor – Hôtel des Encans auction June 19, 2012. Sold for $1,793.61Zilon, Se dire adieu at Iegor – Hôtel des Encans (detail)
And then finally, if you’d like my spreadsheet of prices from the auction, download this.
Back in 2004 I saw a show by Henri Venne at the Musée d’art contemporain de Montréal, I wasn’t impressed. I have a vague memory of large blue paintings of the sky, or something similar. Filed him away as a decent Quebecois artists whose work I wasn’t particularly fond of, kind of like Pierre Lalonde or Boom Desjardins. Someone kind of faceless in the crowd, who is required in order to have a crowd.
I don’t think I particularly noticed when he got a show at the Musee d’art de Joliette (and shouldn’t an artist with a career that’s going places first have a show in Joliette and then in Montreal? And not the other way around?) nor was I expecting to see his work when I went to Art Mûr – I had trucked up there ostensibly to see something else, more on that later. Anyhows, I was quite impressed.
One of the sensations I kind of remember from his show in 2004 was some kind of meditative spin on things, him trying to paint (I think they were paintings) the space in between dozing off and a full sleep. That kind of trance you can end up in if you repeat the same word, gesture or action over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over (ain’t copy/paste grand?!). As far as I can tell there are lots of people out there who believe that those trances are good. I’m not one of them, which is why I probably lumped him in the same space as Boom Desjardins.
This time however I was very impressed at the shininess of his current work. Where the work of his in my memory was kind of flat with a subtle texture (again, I think) from the brush. Which kind of aided to at least understand the Zen-like sensations I felt I was supposed to feel. These photographs are shiny to the point where if they were laid on the floor, you could almost dive right in. All of them are photographs roughly two feet by three feet that are mounted underneath a very thick piece of plexiglass.
Henri Venne, You Should Have Seen What I’ve Seen (detail) 2012
I accidentally forgot my measuring tape in my other pants when I visited Art Mûr so I can’t tell you if it’s ¼” or ½” or something even thicker. But great gosh-a’mighty that plexiglass made them shiny as all get go. Now I kind of have this hate/hate relationship with shiny contemporary art. I tend to look at it as a extremely facile and simplistic method to make otherwise unremarkable art extremely sellable. Normally it’s done with multiple layers of varnish which requires some (not much) skill – as an aside it’s because of the varnishing that here in Quebec we call an art opening a Vernissage. Back in the good old days, once a painter finished some paintings for a an exhibition, he’d invite his friends over to help him varnish them so that they would be suitable for display. Since varnishing a painting is a fairly tedious job, he’d (back in the good old days 99% of your professional artists were men) have to bribe them with bottles of wine to keep them happy. As a consequence, these varnishing parties could get quite boisterous, and it was only a matter of time before a vernissage became synonymous with the opening of an exhibit. But I digress…
Henri Venne, Somewhere in Between at Art Mur, installation view
M. Venne’s work in this show is eight nearly monochromatic, nearly featureless, photographs (there are only seven pieces of art, because one of the pieces, I’ll Keep You There… So Long is a diptych). As simple as rain on a window, the most prevalent feature of these photographs is the color. They are for the most part gradients of primary color (gradiented primary color? Primary color gradients?) – there is one that is orange – and look pretty much like what I would imagine the world looks like if you were severely myopic.
Henri Venne, I’ll Keep You There… So Long (diptych), digital print mounted under plexiglass, 67cm x 183cm, 2012
Extremely simple in concept and form, it’s the sort of thing which makes me gnash my teeth. Instead of using new and improved tools to make new and improved art. M. Venne uses new and improved tools (in this case a fancy-ass digital camera, and fancy-ass digital printer, and a fancy-ass laminator) to make the same old, same old. While I probably should applaud him for being consistent with his art, I can’t help but feel a little bit cheated, because the picture itself is meaningless. Without a title and the title of the show itself all they are are shiny contemporary versions of medium sized colorfields. They aren’t breaking any new ground nor they aren’t earth-shattering, and while all art doesn’t have to be ground-breaking or earth-shattering, when you are using current technologies it helps, a lot. Because if your art isn’t ground-breaking and earth-shattering then it runs the risk of being mundane. Being mundane isn’t a good thing.
Henri Venne, Tomorrow Started, 85cm x 102cm, digital print mounted under plexiglass
It’s the kind of work that I am used to seeing from artists at Galerie de Bellefeuille or Simon Blais. While I am not against the commercialization of art, there are certain times when it hits me that something “art-like” is much closer to being a commodity, and this is one of those times, right down to the fact that he does not bother to mention to size of the print run for each of the pictures.
Despite the bafflegab and gobbledy-gook in Art Mûr’s magazine about pensiveness, and reflection, to me M. Venne’s work is all about sellability. There are some times when shopping can cause a sensation of bliss, or at least that’s what I’ve been told. So I really shouldn’t be raining on anyone’s parade. Especially, since I think that M. Venne’s work is incredibly sellable. They’re priced appropriately, in that region that will make the buyer instantaneously recognize that the work is serious, while at the same time not being outrageous. Or if you prefer, about 57¢/cm2 a pop or $3.59/in2. (66¢/cm2 with taxes. If you’re buying Quebecois art, you can save some serious change by having it shipped either out of province or out of the country).
Henri Venne, Somewhere in Between at Art Mur, installation view
At that price, don’t forget that it probably would help immensely to bring both a swatch from your couch and a paint chip from your wall color so as to make sure that they match the picture.
Henri Venne: Somewhere in Between was exhibited at Art Mûr from April 26 until June 16, 2012
Unfortunately I didn’t have my camera with me, but yesterday I noticed that they are tearing up the travertine inside Westmount Square. As far as I could tell, it was just the entry on Greene Avenue, and I have no idea if they are going to replace it once whatever repairs have been made.
Then, to further the fiasco that is Ontario street in between Jeanne Mance and Saint Urbain, I also noticed that they city has created a second bicycle path along Ontario that parallels the one along de Maisonneuve, because the Quartier des Spectacles refuses to allow bikes. I wonder how much it cost, and who was the bright wag that signed off on the bike path through the QdS in the first place? Again, apologies for the lack of pictures, but you’re just going to have to take my word.
I freaking hate it, when I ask if I can take pictures at an exhibit, and some person who doesn’t know any better starts spouting about copyright and uses that as the excuse why they won’t let me take a snapshot. Listen people, the Canadian copyright act is right here. In it there’s a paragraph, number 29 to be exact, that talks about Fair Dealing. If I am writing a review of your show, I can use pictures that I took to illustrate the article and not impinge, infringe or otherwise step on your intellectual property. So folks, how about this? Next time I show up and ask to take pictures, understand I am being courteous and polite and be courteous and polite in return and say, “yes.”
I bring this up, because last weekend, I went to Galerie Mile End, and asked to take pictures. The woman who was there, didn’t know copyright from a hole in the wall, but insisted that was the reason why I couldn’t take pictures. She then proceeded to watch me for five minutes (there was no one else in the gallery except the two of us) until I realized that the only reason she was watching me was that I had not put my camera away (like I’m going to surreptitiously snap a picture and copy someone’s art and call it my own! Gimme a break!). So I put away the camera, she went back to making art, but then to make matters worse insisted on coming out once every five minutes for the next 15 minutes with some supposedly helpful suggestion (“the artists’ have their business cards over here, if you take them, you can call them and ask them if it is ok to take pictures,” “the artist who did these pieces is going to be here at 2:30, if you wait you can ask her if it is ok to take pictures of her work,” “if there was any of my work in the show, I’d let you take pictures of it”).
Suffice it to say, I was not in a good mood, and slowly got more and more annoyed at her as time progressed. Instead of snapping and throwing or shouting something. I gripped my pen and clipboard even tighter still, took a couple of deep breaths and did my best not to let my foul mood cloud my judgement or opinion of the work on the walls – but man, oh, man was it tough. All the way home I was contemplating some kind of savage ripost or 10,000 word screed. Or just spiking the whole darn thing. But when I got home, I put on Brahm’s Symphony #1, took a nap, and when I woke up, everything was much better. Thanks Johannes.
OK, now that I got that off my chest, some background. Galerie Mile End is an offshoot of the Park Avenue YMCA. It’s a kind of community centre/art studios/gallery/collective type of thing. You know, one of those places where people with day jobs that aren’t quite as fulfilling as they hoped, go after work to do creative things. Paint, Sculpt, Draw, etc. As a consequence a small supportive community arises out of and around them, and the people making the art don’t get driven crazy by their jobs/commute/relationships/kids, etc. Just in case yo9u thought I was being 100% literal, sorry, I over simplified things – it obviously isn’t that easy in real life, but you get the point. I’d like to say that I have followed the members of Galerie Mile End closely for the past 14 years and as a consequence can say with authority, that none of their members have ever gone on to make the jump from day job to full-time artist. But I haven’t, so I can’t and that’s just the last little bit of frustration leaking out of me, pay it never no mind. Things start looking up from here on it, I promise.
The reason I was interested in going to see the exhibit was because En Masse has kind of been taking over the city. It seems that everywhere I look, there is some very large black and white cartoon-like mural made by something like 70 dozen different local artists. It seems to me that Black and White is the new black – or maybe the new Friday, or something like that. Anyhows, I was curious to see if En Masse had had any influence on the fine folk at Galerie Mile End. In short no. While the exhibit at Galerie Mile End was a group show, it was not collaborative in the least. While there was something approaching thematic unity based on the title, I did see some greens, and a couple of other colors that were not black or white – and there was quite a lot of gray as well, which technically I figure is alright, but if I wanted to get all nit-picky about it, I could. But I think I have gotten rid of all the frustration I had over the weekend (I actually listened to the Brahms #1, something like four times…) so we’ll let it slide.
There were about three dozen different artists involved. Some of them showing multiple pieces (alright), some of them showing multiple pieces in very different media (not so hot). Anytime I look at any type of collection of art (or for that matter a collection of anything else) I try to make some sense out of it by looking for connections. When I am introduced to an artists’ work, it is extremely difficult to be able to grasp what they do, how they think, why they create or the thoughts behind their creations if their output goes from one extreme to another – especially with artists that I am unfamiliar with. It’s all fine and dandy for Picasso to sculpt, paint, and draw, he’s been dead for almost 40 years and his art is fairly well known in the Western world. He is not trying to impress anyone with his art anymore. However, some artist who isn’t quite as well known as Mr. Picasso ends up confusing the heck out of me if the first time I see some of their work there’s an abstract sculpture, a painting of some flowers and a cliched photograph with some kind of motivational text on it. I’m left wondering if the artist thinks that these particular objects are in fact their best work, or if in fact they think that absolutely everything they make is worthy of being exhibited? While I realize that people have many different facets to their personalities, trying to group the three pieces together into on e larger understanding of the motivation of the artist is not exactly easy. From where I sit, it would be better to have a show of just abstract sculptures, then another show of flower paintings a third of cliched motivational photography and only then have a show combining all three media. But that’s my personal preference, your may be different.
So as I can get it out of the way, and not have to try to remember to do it, these are the names of the artists participating in Blanc et Noir at Galerie Mile End: Anne Salomon, Bouthaina Bouzid, Celine Landry, Claude Lépine, Claudette Seguin-Beaulieu, Emily Wai Yee Leong, Esther Kanfi, Gaby Orbach, Henri Enfant, Josée Laurion, Laila Maestari, Louise Rousseau, Marcia Campillo, Michelle Bonneville, Monique Corbeil, Myles Johnston, Olga Maksimova, Paulette Dufresne, Pierre Foret, Rachel Dionne, Sandra Glenns, Thibauld Lelievre, and yves vaillancourt. By my count I think I liked four pieces (or at least that’s how many I starred in my notes). Not a good percentage in any way shape of form.
However (at some point I am going to have to either drop the use of the word “however” altogether, or start using it even more) that is not to say that the other works were not good, just that they weren’t up my alley. Using a different method of scoring, I would say that that about 90% of the works exhibited were technically good, proficient. That the artist making the work knew how to use their tools properly. That’s a much better percentage, don’t you think? But either way an exhibit is only as good as the worst piece in the show. And no matter how you cut it, there was some stuff in the exhibit that was weak both on a technical level and personally on an aesthetic level. If you’re going to use something as vague as “Black and White” as a unifying theme the quality of the art by definition needs to be of the highest caliber. I don’t know who was responsible for picking and choosing the art, but somehow I get the distinct impression that there was some kind of call made, and anyone and everyone who responded (including the people with art that included green) was accepted.
The show was hung, not so much with an eye to balancing the works. Nor did it seem to me as being hung in order to create (the dreaded) dialogue between pieces. The way that I saw it, the show was hung in an attempt to maximize the number of pieces that could be shown while for the most part trying to keep everything at eye level. As a consequence I either would hate to see the work that wasn’t accepted or I strongly suspect nothing was turned down.
Initially, in my outline this was where I was going to write about “The Good Stuff.” But now, I realize that really wouldn’t serve any purpose other than to piss people off – and given that I was pissed off over the weekend, passing it on doesn’t strike me as being particularly useful. As I said there are good pieces in the show, and there are even pieces in the show that I quite like, a lot. But the instant I make that division, someone is not going to be happy. Unfortunately, I really didn’t like the show itself. By now, that should be obvious. To me it was kind of like going to a restaurant where there was one dish that was amazing and wonderful, the rest of the meal was acceptable but the service was horrendous. An art exhibition is more than just slapping some art on the walls and serving some cheap wine at an opening. There needs to be something holding it together. There needs to be some focus and while there doesn’t need to be some theory behind it, it certainly doesn’t hurt. Then finally there should always be some threshold of what is acceptable to exhibit. It’s all fine and dandy to be polite and diplomatic in person and with people. Art (for the most part) is made up of inanimate objects that do not have feelings that would be hurt if they weren’t exhibited. Someone needs to take charge and draw that line when organizing an exhibition. That and let me take some pictures as well.
Blanc et Noir at Galerie Mile End, 5345 Park Ave. until June 17, 2012.
[Edit, July 31, 2012: I received an email from M. Lasserre, and have added it to the article, I have also corrected the line I wrote with regards to the ownership of Coriolis.]
Coriolis by Maskull Lasserre, image courtesy maskulllasserre.com
And I always thought that it was pretty gosh darn cool, somehow M. Lasserre had squished an upright piano with a rock. So when I had a chance to go see it at L’espace musée Québecor I figured what the hey. Especially since L’espace musée Québecor is one of the few places in town where you can go see art on a Monday.
Well color me very disappointed. Turns out it’s not a piano at all. Just a bunch of steel made to look like an upright piano and then left outside to rust.
Detail of Coriolis by Maskull Lasserre at L’espace musée Québecor
It’s almost like discovering that the Emperor has no clothes. Then on top of that I have no idea how M. Lasserre think that Gaspard-Gustave Coriolis has anything to do with what happened to his faux-piano. He dropped the rock from 40 feet. Which is way too small of a distance with way too heavy an object for the earth’s rotational forces to have any appreciable effect on the resulting collision. In fact if you look at this picture taken by Mirana Zuger of the moments just before impact
Coriolis by Maskull Lasserre image courtesy maskulllasserre.com
You can see how the place where M. Lasserre wants the impact to happen and where it in fact does happen are one and the same. If he were taking any Coriolic forces into account his dropping of the rock would have been much more like a billiards shot. Not just a straight drop from 40 feet. If he decides to make something similar (after all his gallery was successful in getting Québecor someone to buy it, maybe he should make another) he should call the next one Galilei (or perhaps Kepler, Descartes or Newton) since they were all pretty instrumental (pun intended) in describing the various physical forces on a falling rock. Then finally I’d also suggest he use a tuba, sousaphone, harp or kazoo as he instrument to crush as they all are made out of metal (or in the case of the harp, can be made out of metal).
That all being said, it is momentarily interesting in a sort of I’m-hungry-let’s-go-for-lunch-no-I-don’t-care-where-I-just-want-a-sandwich kind of way.
Coriolis by Maskull Lasserre at L’espace musée QuébecorCoriolis by Maskull Lasserre at L’espace musée QuébecorDetail of Coriolis by Maskull Lasserre at L’espace musée QuébecorDetail of Coriolis by Maskull Lasserre at L’espace musée Québecor
RE: I’m-hungry-let’s-go-for-lunch-no-I-don’t-care-where-I-just-want-a-sandwich
maskull lasserre Sun, Jul 29, 2012 at 9:40 PM
To: zeke@zeke.com
Dear Chris,
I must admit that I am seldom moved to respond to the types of postings that appear on your blog, but when someone teeters, publicly, so perilously between being misinformed and ignorant, I can’t help but try to right the balance in the public interest, and in so doing give you the benefit of the doubt.
I came upon your piece about Coriolis when I was forwarded your post on Vrtlar, at the McClure Gallery, earlier this summer. I will not be as exhaustive in my redaction (and I apologize for the “fancy-ass” words, but you can look them up here and here) as you were of Mr. Campbell’s text – although you should really have a look to see that he was correct in his reference to the Divine Horsemen: The Voodoo Gods of Haiti, Chelsea House / Delta, 1970. I will, however, suggest the following links to, albeit after the fact, inform you that:
1) Coriolis is in a private collection, and does not belong to Quebecor,
2) the Coriolis effect does register on every falling mass, though measurable more easily on a planetary scale, and
Although these posts are probably more embarrassing to their author than they are to the people they exploit for their petty picking of criticism’s low-hanging fruit and the disingenuous slights that border on adolescent slander, maybe you should stick to writing about sandwiches.
Sincerely,
Maskull Lasserre
The comments about the film, and vocabulary, are in reference to this review I wrote about a month afterwards.
Back in 1988 there was much consternation as Westmount Square was renovated. As part of the renovations, the Travertine was removed from the plaza and replaced with granite. If I remember correctly the excuse used was that it wasn’t able to stand up to the extreme weather here in Montreal.
The Westmount Square Plaza
They started to build Westmount Square in 1965. So the travertine was about 23 years old when they replaced it. The granite 24 years old this year. It isn’t doing much better. I think they should redo it and replace the granite with travertine.
The Westmount Square Plaza
And while they are at it, get rid of the skylights, and bring the fountain back.
The fountain on the Westmount Square PlazaThe skylights on the Westmount Square Plaza
Sorry Miriam, Diary of a Neighbourhood has got to be one of the worst pieces of public/community art I have ever seen in a long time, if not my entire life. I’m addressing Miriam Ginestier, head of Studio 303 and one of the partners in Michael Toppings project called Diary of a Neighbourhood because I really like her and her organization what they do and how they try to do it. But in this case not one bit, so I want to make extremely clear and 100% sure that she understands that this isn’t personal. Now that I got that out of the way, let me backtrack slightly so that the rest of you (all 10 of you) understand as well.
Yesterday, I was walking down Jeanne Mance, when as I crossed Léo-Pariseau and went to take a picture of MAI, I noticed that there was some writing in their windows. I vaguely remembered having seen writing (standard issue plastic stenciled lettering) in some some the other windows in some of the apartments facing MAI. Now normally, I am a big fan of this type of community-building public art. Bringing art to the masses, one for art – art for all, that sort of thing, but this just fails on so many different levels, that it shows how removed from the actual art made the decision makers and signers of checks are, and it is unfortunate, if not really really sad that CALQ gave Mr. Topping $20K to pull this off (the Canada Council also gave a significant chunk of change, but their database stops at 2010, so I have no idea how much he got – and then upon looking a little further it appears as if he got some cash from someone named Margaret Rind, the city and possibly the Cirque du Soleil as well).
If you want the CliffsNotes version of why Diary of a Neighbourhood sucks the big one, aka is really horrible or is just bad art, I have five words for you: unoriginal and impossible to view. Then to make matters worse not only is it unoriginal and impossible to view, but had Mr. Topping had even a moment to pause and reflect, instead of just slapping some letters up on some windows and then wrapping everything in multisyllabic nonsense designed to confuse bureaucrats and take advantage of the fact that he is an English Canadian in Quebec, he actually could have pulled off something cool, interesting, effective and useful. Pity.
Now that we got that out of the way, let me explain why it’s unreadable, and that’s simple enough. For some strange reason Mr. Topping decided to use windows that were on the third and fourth floors along with some lower level windows that were obscured by foliage.
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael ToppingsDiary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Plus, I strongly doubt that in the time that MAI has been around there have been more than two dozen people who have walked along Jeanne Mance and looked up at their windows. So while technically it may be possible to see what’s written on their windows, for all intents and purposes no one is going to.
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
By using the MAI windows, Mr. Topping also sends a mixed message, because they use the exact same type of signage to publicize the events that they organize, it muddles whatever message Mr. Topping is trying to send. Is a list of visual art exhibits and plays part of the artistic intervention? Or not? I don’t know. You tell me.
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Then, again while I realize that technically a neighborhood can and does include the people who work there. Practically, it means the people who interact with each other in some kind of loosely (or tightly) defined geographic area. So the people working in a neighborhood would be for the most part the store clerks, cashiers, bus drivers, waiters, etc. Faceless bureaucrats working in a low-rise office building (even if it for the most part only has artistic organizations as tenants) really don’t do much to a neighborhood. They show up at about 10 o’clock in the morning, work in their cubicles, eat lunch in the food court or park nearby depending on the weather and how much their salary is, then leave and go home at about 6 o’clock, to their own neighborhoods. Yes, there might be some people who work at 3680 Jeanne-Mance who walk to work. But the vast majority of the couple of hundred or so people who work there drive, bike or take the 80/435 to get to work and as a consequence are minimally part of the neighborhood around Jeanne Mance and Léo-Pariseau. The lines written in the windows of MAI imply a completely different type of story than those on the windows of a house.
Nor do I understand why the church at the corner of Prince Arthur that was turned into condos was not included. Aren’t the people living there as much a part of the neighborhood as the people on the east side of the street?
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
The, don’t even get me started on the voyeuristic nature of this project. In order to read it you have to stare directly into people’s living rooms and bedrooms.
Apparently, there were some events happening as part of this intervention. Unfortunately, I wasn’t aware of them until way too late, so I was unable to participate, but it strikes me that these would be events that were fairly insular in nature and designed and organized around the people already participating instead of being more open inviting and inclusive. There was nothing on the street explaining to the outsider what was happening or why. Given the very strong negative values associated with being a voyeur and/or inquiring into things that are obviously not your business, I’d be hard pressed to believe that anyone besides the aforementioned people in the neighborhood and the people involved in the project took part in any of the events. And as there are over 40 people (not including “all those volunteers making up the mob scene”) mentioned by name on Mr. Toppings website in the credits, and I counted over 60 separate entrances to apartments I would hope that in his reports to the various funding agencies that he got at least 1,000 people to participate in his 21 separate events. While 1,000 sounds like a lot of folk, that’s actually less than 50 per event. With 60 apartments and 40 people involved, that’s a very low threshold to cross.
To me this is a perfect example of what I would call Grant Art. It involves what the grant officer would presume were not regular grant recipients. There were two well established arts organizations willing to help. It was multicultural. Sounds way more complicated than it is. Used large multisyllabic words. And is forgotten as soon as it is over.
Then, to get very specific (I was scanning Mr. Topping’s description of the project, while writing that last paragraph) if Diary of a Neighbourhood is truly “a self-penned literary work.” Then what exactly are the “quotations from a large pool of disparate sources – David Wojnarowicz, Hart Crane, WU LYF, Nietzche, Jeanette Winterson?” Is he implicating himself as a plagarist? And I’m not quite certain what he means when he writes “With the actual neighbourhood as stage, performers infiltrate by assuming the role of resident, rendering portrayals of the everyday and the banal alongside deconstructions and gender inversions of film and theatre classics such as Network and A Streetcar Named Desire.” He self-penned it (whatever that means) then has quotations included, and during the events he’s going to have one person yell out their window
And another one yell
Gimme a break! But as long as I am discussing the content, I might as well add that what bits I was able to read were not compelling in any way, shape or form. It appeared to me as more of “ain’t I cool, that I can everyone (or almost everyone) to do this.” Thank any real literary work. I realize that there is such a category as Experimental Fiction, but until I see otherwise Mr. Topping can’t hold a candle to what Robert Coover, Gail Scott or Georges Perec write. Add to that, the fact that easily a third to half of the entire project is physically unreadable and I just guess that in practice the actual content of this “literary work” was secondary, if not tertiary to whatever the main objectives really were.
Personally, if I had $50,000 (what I guess he raised from the various sources) and really wanted to do “a community-based initiative, implicating the residents of one street in one Montréal neighbourhood. Envisioned as a trans-disciplinary project… [encompassing] public art, print art, installation, street theatre and performance but remains, in essence, a literary work.” I would have thrown a street party to end all street parties, and then simply asked everyone who participated to write down their thoughts and impressions. I would have then published everything and given each participant a copy of the book. But then, maybe that’s why I don’t apply for grants.
Oh, and one last thing. I might be blind, but while I was looking at and taking pictures of the various texts on the windows, while I did see text in French, English, Spanish, Arabic, and Chinese, I did not see the Braille.
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
Diary of a Neighbourhood: a literary work by Michael Toppings
