Category Archives: Review

Circus, Montréal, Performance, Ramble, Rave, Review

Les 7 doigts de la main, Séquence 8

Howdy!

Due to the generosity of a bunch of folk I was able to see Les 7 doigts de la main latest and greatest show, Séquence 8, not once, but twice. The first time at the opening last week and then a second time on Tuesday night. I’m going to have to try to make a point of seeing more performances twice – it is extremely helpful in trying to get a handle on what’s happening. As I have pointed out before, all too frequently, the show that I see at a première and the show I see at the end of the world tour are two completely and utterly different beasts. Being able to see a show a second time allows for a certain familiarity and comfort, I kind of know what’s going to happen next, instead of jotting notes furiously trying to just keep up with what’s happening on stage – in effect being the play-by-play announcer, it affords a certain perspective so that I can also take notes that are the equivalent of the color commentary as well. In short a more well-rounded perspective, which in the case of a review, really can’t hurt.

To begin with, the logistics; at the première (where I was told by someone who seemed reliable) that every last ticket was comped (my back of the envelope math placed it about 950 to 1,000 seats). I couldn’t quite get a hang of where I fit in the Montreal performing arts hierarchy, other than understanding I’m in the top 1,000, because on the downside, the seats were in the absolute last row, so if I had any insecurities, I would have been absolutely crushed by having to walk up all of those stairs. But on the positive side the seats were pretty much as close to the center as they could be, so not only were there other people who were also in the back row, but they could only see the show from an angle, or in the worst case from behind the performers. If I had tried to I could have tripped myself and fallen into the laps of Shana Carroll and Sebastien Soldevila the two non-performing folk who were most responsible to the show. Something called Mise en scene and direction artistique (basically directing and artistic direction in the Devil’s language). And while I’m at it, Ms. Carroll was wearing a particularly smashing outfit, one of those tuxedo tail-like suit coats from like the 1880s or a Fred Astaire film, unfortunately she was nowhere to be seen last Tuesday. For the life of me I can’t remember at all anything that Mr. Soldevila wore.

I don’t know if it was because we got to Tohu earlier last week than this week, or if there is a significant difference in the traffic on the 40 between Thursday nights and Tuesday nights, but before the show on Tuesday and again at quite points there was a very distinct low rumble that could be heard. On the Tuesday night performance it wasn’t there, and I don’t know why. But at the time I guessed that it was from the large and particularly busy elevated highway that runs right beside the theatre. But since I wasn’t able to hear it on the Tuesday performance, it might be something else entirely, I dunno. But no matter how nice, good and sweet circus stuff and circus performers are, I’m still not to certain I would want to be working that close to cars and trucks going 60 miles an hour.

But enough about the stuff that has nothing to do with the show, despite any desires I have to discuss the atmosphere before the show, who else was sitting next to us, how slowly the crowd moved, the vaguely museum like display in the hallways or why it appeared that 75% of the people entered from stage right, I will refrain so that I can in fact get to the meat of the matter; Séquence 8.

Now this was my first time seeing Les 7 doigts de la main, and if you weren’t aware, they are one of these “new-fangled” circuses that don’t use animals and focus on the body, as in acrobatics, gymnastics, contortion and other stuff like that. After seeing the show twice, I’m trying to wrap my head around how exactly I would define a circus and a circus troupe. Because for the most part, it seems that a circus troupe is a collection of freelance performers who happen to be available to perform for the duration of whatever tour has been organized. As far as I am able to figure out, continuity of performers is not something that is a priority with a 21st century circus troupe. Similarly, it seems to me that a “new-fangled” circus is a loose collection of things that the performers can do, seemingly linked together by a director. Now that I think about it more and harder, I’m surprised that I haven’t seen (or more to the point heard, since I really haven’t seen tons of circuses) a circus that uses Frisbees and/or pogo sticks – after all there are tons of circii (that’s just pretentious, the plural of circus is circuses) which use hula-hoops, hacky-sacks and other products popularized by Wham-O. But if you haven’t noticed, I’ve digressed. Apologies.

The show itself starts when someone I think is Colin Davis plays at being some sort of host/presenter part starts reciting in badly accented French while dropping papers that look like those you get from fortune cookies something that after having seen the show twice I am completely and utterly unable to remember at all. Then it quickly becomes obvious that this is one of those “new-fangled” circuses as the seven other performers quickly run on stage and do an awful lot of tumbling, acrobatics, gymnastics, jumping around and rolling. After having seen the show twice, I get the distinct sensation that Ms. Carroll and M. Soldevila were the ones responsible for the parts like that trying to use the mass movement as some kind of unifying undertaking that makes it obvious they are all part of one unit and not disparate parts.

While the jumping up and down and the gymnastics were very well done, I’m not quite certain I buy into the concept of it making them all one unit. But I’ll get to that in more detail later. In total there are about 15 vignettes that for the most part spotlight the specialties of the performers. Because of them being very distinctly separated, any kind of half-assed, after the fact attempt to group them together is going to obviously come up short. Not only because the rolling and tumbling isn’t anybody’s specialty, but also due to the fact that by getting everyone to do kind of the same thing they all end up going down to the lowest common denominator, which is never a good thing, and when being juxtaposed against everyone’s best is only going to suffer, and suffer badly.

The first significant vignette, is Alexandra Royer‘s Russian Bar act. She acquitted herself very well, doing a bunch of double flips (which is about two more rotations than I am capable of doing) but what I found particularly weird was that the audience applauded on the simple flips and was pretty much silent on the more complicated ones. I also was able to take advantage of a thought I had towards the end of the first performance, that was to note how many times acts required spotters. Under the presumption that no spotters meant that whatever was being done was relatively easy, and spotters meant that, while not necessarily difficult, potentially dangerous. Ms. Royer had spotters. In between the first time I saw the show and the second time, there were (obviously) some changes made, most notably being the talk-show portion at the beginning between Mr. Davis and Eric Bates in French. I can’t say I missed it the second time around, and it left me wondering why they even thought that it was a good idea in the first place.

There’s a short segment that effectively kills some time while they play around with the pole during blackouts (the stage was made rather bare. Six large wooden cubes, one pole that was probably 15 to 20 fee tall, a desk with some very funky legs, and a backdrop made of some empty but ornate frames). Imagine assuming a pose on the pole, and then when the lights come back on there is another person or persons in completely different poses on the pole. Easy laugh. Which doesn’t quite lead into or progress naturally, but is succeeded by Maxim Laurin‘s trapeze act. Which is quite spectacular. On both nights it got the biggest round of applause up to that point, and I noted his stomach, which not only was the major muscle he used to manipulate his body, but was also very flat and made me realize that I probably could use a little bit more exercise than I am getting.

At various points all of the gentlemen performers performed shirtless, and there was an entire time killing segment where three of them (including one lady performer) very slowly disrobed, after putting on a bunch of excess layers. For the most part it was what I called the time killing segments that while not bad per se, didn’t really seem to me to serve any purpose other than possibly allowing some folks to catch their breath. Specifically the thing with the tape, the thing with the loop machine and the previously mentioned cut talk show bit. I could understand how initially they might have been put there to either establish character, or further the plot, but when they finally put the show together, there wasn’t any plot and beyond being themselves, there weren’t any characters. The only time killing segment that even came close to working was the ring the bell one, where Mr. Davis asked questions of the audience and M. Laurin had to climb the pole to ring the bell.

I also was unable to figure out any connections between the music played and what was happening on stage. The music veered from a really bad lounge jazz version of Cry Me A River by Lisa Ekdahl

to a pretty pathetic attempt at hip hop sung and performed by the performers themselves. Note to future show producers, if you have cast members who know how to juggle and/or do acrobatics in the air and on the ground, it doesn’t mean, and in fact is extremely unlikely, that they also are great singers and musicians. If you haven’t noticed when you’re even a halfway decent singer you get paid an awful lot more than being a great circus artist. If I had a choice between doing flips in the air and singing on how I wanted to express my creativity, the songs would win out every time, and while I recognize that I don’t think like everyone, in this particular case I do think I am in the majority.

But enough of the negativity, despite the past couple of paragraphs, it really was a good show. Besides the Russian Bar and the Trapeze, there were five other circus vignettes. Mr. Bates juggling cigar boxes, Devin Henderson and Mr. Davis doing a Chinese hoops act, Tristan Nielsen and Camille Legris doing some hand-to-hand act, Ugo Dario and M. Laurin on a Korean Plank and Ms. Royer on and in an aerial hoop. All of which were particularly good. If you want to get a general sense of the circus-y stuff that was in the show, I would suggest watching the videos that I put in the preview article I wrote about the show.

While watching it the first time, it seemed like each performer brought their specialty to the table and then someone else tried to link them together into some whole. It ended up giving the performance a sincere but naïve sense. Sincere in that all the circus stuff was dead-bang on, drop dead amazing. Naive in that it almost seemed like the performers had written the show.

On the second night I saw it, everyone seemed to have a case of the dropsies, although on both nights when the Chinese hoops were lined three high it took the same number of tries for Mr. Henderson to make it through the triple high stack, which on one hand-made me question the possibility that he missed on purpose. And on the other caused the audience to become incredibly sympathetic, actively cheering for him each successive try, until he got it. Which led to the evening’s largest and loudest round of applause. On Tuesday Mr. Bates dropped boxes, the trumpet failed during the rap number and there were a couple of other non-scripted moments.

Despite that, I thought that the second performance I saw was much tighter. I don’t know if that would be due to the revisions made in between, or if it only seemed that way because I had seen everything before, or if my concept of “tightness” as it applies to a circus performance is woefully outdated. Personally I prefer the first one. I also should point out that on the first night I was almost sitting next to Teklieng Lim who had been hired by the 7 doigts de la main to draw some sketches of the show,

Teklieng Lim's sketch of Alexandra Royer of Les Sept Doigts de la Main in Séquence 8
Teklieng Lim’s sketch of Alexandra Royer of Les Sept Doigts de la Main in Séquence 8

You can see all the other sketches here.

The actual circus stuff in Les 7 doigts de la main’s Séquence 8 is quite good, actually even better than that. I think I could easily watch Mr. Bates, Ms. Royer, M. Laurin, Mr. Henderson, Mr. Davis, Mr. Nielsen, Ms. Legris and Mr. Dario do their stuff many more times than the twice I have already. However, I have no real need to hear them sing or watch them act even if it was something written by Shakespeare sung to a tune written by Bach. Trying to link various circus acts together with characters and plot just doesn’t work in this case, I’d almost go so far as to say that it would be better titled as Eight Séquences instead of Séquence 8.

If you haven’t seen it, it is still playing here in Montreal until Sunday, and then after that you’re going to have to go to Monte Carlo, Graz, Philadelphia, Boston or Toulouse to see it (although judging by the schedule there will be more performances added, there are some holes

Art, Montréal, Photography, Public Art, Ramble, Review, Visual Art

Mouvement Art Public at Place Émilie-Gamelin

Howdy!

In theory I really like the concept and ideas behind Mouvement art public, in practice, not so much. But let me back up a little bit. Back in 2007, Manuel Bujold, a friend of mine was able to convince a whack of people that any unused inventory of ad space on bus shelters should be given over to quote art, unquote. All fine and dandy, until I saw it in action. Basically, besides the photographs they reproduced there was also some text about Mouvement art public, the artist and if I remember correctly, the artist as well. I’m still undecided if I like the fact that they were blatantly obvious about the images being reproductions or not, and while I like some information about the artist, especially when they are not well known artists, I prefer to have to figure out the actual art myself.

They continued in 2008 adding some fairly well known artists, like Ed Burtynsky into the mix. Then they started branching out into those ubiquitous billboard like structures that the city uses on some major streets like McGill College in a misguided attempt to get people to stroll along a rather desolate but none-the-less major thoroughfare. Then for unknown reasons they installed them over at the Atwater Market, Place Émilie-Gamelin and Marche Maisonneuve.

These people sized (as opposed to highway sized) billboards ditched the excess text explaining stuff, and made it look like the images being presented were if not originals, intended to be exhibited that way. Digging slightly deeper, it seems that once, or twice a year they change what’s being shown. Although as you might expect it doesn’t get an awful lot of press.

Anyhows, in my meanderings around the city, I’ve seen two exhibits at Place Émilie-Gamelin and one at Marche Maisonneuve. The exhibits at Place Émilie-Gamelin were called Why Don’t We Do It In The Road, and Backstage. Today I am going to focus on the exhibits at Place Émilie-Gamelin, and if I am real good I’ll get down to the Atwater Market to find out what they have up there sometime soon.

Backstage is a series of photographic portraits of pop musicians before or after performing taken by Valerie Jodoin Keaton.

From Backstage by Valerie Jodoin Keaton
From Backstage by Valerie Jodoin Keaton
From Backstage by Valerie Jodoin Keaton
From Backstage by Valerie Jodoin Keaton
From Backstage by Valerie Jodoin Keaton
From Backstage by Valerie Jodoin Keaton

Initially, because of the location and the rather scruffy nature of the various Green Rooms, I thought that they were in fact portraits of folks who were itinerant in nature, which goes to show you how much I pay attention to pop music. I personally know a couple of people who also do that sort of photography, namely Eva Blue and Susan Moss. Both of them take much better pictures of musicians than Ms. Jodoin Keaton

And that is ultimately why I like the concept in theory more than practice, when push comes to shove, it truly is about the art, and if the art doesn’t cut it, then no amount of posturing is going to save it. Her black and white portraits don’t really capture anything about any of the musicians. They are more voyeuristic, but not in a good way, attempting to document something ephemeral or transient. More in a “I got to go backstage, and you didn’t” sort of way.

In particular, I find her insistence on converting her images to black and white completely annoying and thoroughly useless. It’s a pathetic attempt to give some thin veneer of history to some rather pedestrian pictures of pop stars, whose music for the most part will not be remembered for much longer than the time it takes to sing one of their songs.

Why Don't We Do It In The Road? By The Blind Artists Collective
Why Don’t We Do It In The Road? By The Blind Artists Collective
From Why Don't We Do It In The Road? By The Blind Artists Collective
From Why Don’t We Do It In The Road? By The Blind Artists Collective

Why Don’t We Do It In The Road? By The Blind Artists Collective while significantly better than Ms. Jodoin Keaton’s pictures, isn’t sufficiently strong to make up for them. Maddeningly obtuse, trying to find any information about the artists, the images or just about anything else on-line was an exercise in frustration. The only thing I could find was this blurb on the Mouvement Art Public’s website, which doesn’t say bupkis.

A series of images, obviously, taken on the street. Each is colorful in its own way. They are all strong enough that they were able to wrestle my attention away from the various dramas happening in and around Place Émilie-Gamelin. But not sufficiently strong to be truly memorable. I’m torn between deciding that it is a good thing that they have been defaced by the various people who frequent Place Émilie-Gamelin, or if it is in fact a bad thing. Given that it is so obviously some kind of empowering project for disadvantaged folk, the idea that the “collective” is larger than just the people squeezing the shutter button is intriguing. But at the same time, I’m not that keen on condoning obvious vandalism.

Ultimately, I think that this is the kind of art that Mouvement Art Public showcases best. It’s just a matter of getting more information about it out there, and attempting to get more attention paid to it at the same time.

History, Québec, Ramble, Review

Aimé Despatis – De l’encre dans les veines at Maison Bélisle in Terrebonne

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Howdy!

Recently I went out to Terrebonne, ostensibly to see the exhibit on Aimé Despatis at the Maison Bélisle. It’s a good thing that it was a nice day and that the whole Île-des-Moulins area there is very nice, because the exhibit itself was anything but.

Half of the Aimé Despatis, de l'encre dans les veines exhibit
Half of the Aimé Despatis, de l’encre dans les veines exhibit

I confused Aimé Despatis with William-Edmond Blumhart and didn’t realize my mistake until I walked up to the second floor of the Maison Bélisle, which must be all of 500 square feet, saw the eight panels, and asked myself “we drove an hour to see this?”

While M. Despatis might have been a significant person in Terrebonne’s history, the exhibit kind of left me with the idea that Terrebonne’s history wasn’t anything to write home about. Besides the brightly colored panels there was a video screen that had some interview on a continuous loop, which is never a good idea, and even less so in an exhibit without many visitors.

They did have a copy of the first edition of L’Écho de Terrebonne

L'Écho de Terrebonne Vol 1 No. 1
L’Écho de Terrebonne Vol 1 No. 1

Which was a precursor to La Revue de Terrebonne and an old typewriter that I presume was used by M. Despatis. But I can see old typewriters in coffee shops wanting to impart an atmosphere and junk shops that haven’t quite realized we’re in the 21st century yet. And while the first edition of L’Écho might be significant, it really is yesterday’s news and isn’t particularly relevant now.

This all might have been appeased if there had been some particularly compelling content, but reading about some local dude, who wasn’t from my locality, that had started a weekly newspaper wasn’t compelling to me. The local newspapers can for the most part be browsed on-line (L’Echo de Terrebonne, Le Courrier de Terrebonne) so there has got to be something more to make an exhibit worthwhile – and I’m not even going to get into the fact that they charge $6 to get in.

Two display cases containing medals, an army bag, some pictures and a beret doesn’t cut it. If M. Despatis was so significant to Terrebonne’s history, why didn’t they show this more concretely? Instead of digital reproductions of newspapers printed on panels, kind of like what I would expect from some eighth grade history presentation, why didn’t they get out more old newspapers?

Instead of bundling up some copies of La Revue for me to sit on and leaving copies of books on the history of Terrebone to read, why didn’t they blow-up and reprint some pictures from those old issues of La Revue and then take pictures from the same spot today so as to illustrate the advance of time on Terrebonne? Why couldn’t they have recreated M. Despatis’ desk? Or compile a list of everyone who had written for La Revue? I’m certain that they could have found some famous people who got there start there. Or as I presume that M. Despatis wrote a lot of the content in La Revue, how about coming up with some concrete method to display approximately the number of words he wrote in his lifetime.

While it would be extremely easy to dis La Bande a Paul for their exhibition design to my eye, it doesn’t look like they were given an awful lot of material to work with. Despite what people think about today’s technological advances, I can’t think of anytime in history when words on a wall made for a good exhibit.

Art, Montréal, Painting, Ramble, Rave, Review, Visual Art

Mirana Zuger, Vrtlar at the McClure Gallery

Howdy!

[Edit, July 31, 2012: I received an email from Maskull Lasserre, about some of the things I wrote, and have added it to the article.]

I’m certain that James D. Campbell is a nice person, loved by many and appreciated by even more. However, I got a couple of bones to pick with him. The reason I’m doing it here is because he has written one of the essays in the catalogue for Mirana Zuger‘s exhibit Vrtlar (Serbo-Croatian for gardener). Actually 33 bones to pick with him. Thirty for his use of the following fancy-ass words (some even made up) in his essay in the catalogue that do nothing to make Ms. Zuger’s paintings understandable. Semiotic, immanent, coeval, chroma, pictographic, gnomic, tactuality (the adverb of tactual is actually tactually) excrescences, mien, amuletic, Voudoum (I don’t think this exists as a word as Google only gives about 79 results), traceries, palimpsests, irremediably, performative, anfractuous, coagula, coruscating, concatenation, gravid, praxis, balletics, fixity, cicatrices, auratic (I’m not sure this one exists either as it only shows up on wikitionary), processual, diasporae (the plural of diaspora is in fact diasporas), lingua adamica, primogenitary and vitrification. Then another bone because he gets the title of the film he cites in the essay wrong, as you can see by watching the film.

The film is called: Divine Horsemen: The Living Gods of Haiti, not The Voodoo Gods of Haiti (and after reading a little about Maya Deren, it looks like it could be a very interesting film). He then proceeds to spell David Michael Levin‘s name wrong, and finally he obviously hasn’t spent all that much time around street artists, because graffiti is anything but spontaneous. When was the last time you “just happened” to be carrying some cans of spray paint around “in case” you suddenly had the urge to be artistic in public?

But despite all the excess baggage and nonsense that he adds to the show, Ms. Zugler’s work is up to the task and came through with shining colors. (The show itself was on exhibit at the McClure Gallery from June 1 to 23, this year). If you ‘d like to see some of her work, she is currently exhibiting at the Eleanor London Côte Saint-Luc Public Library.

Installation view of Vrtlar by Mirana Zuger at the McClure Gallery, showing Fooling and Hibou.
Installation view of Vrtlar by Mirana Zuger at the McClure Gallery, showing Fooling and Hibou.

Her name blipped on my radar when I was doing some research on Coriolis by Maskull Lasserre. She took some of the pictures to document the making of Coriolis, and something clicked when I saw her name come up as exhibiting at the McClure. Thankfully I was able to get over there slightly more than a week before the show closed. It consisted of ten paintings of various sizes and one small sculpture, the pieces had titles like Beet Root, Betty, and Hibou, or in simpler language, not exactly the most helpful in trying to decipher her paintings. There was one called The Tough Guy and the Texan which at least gave me a leg up on trying to figure out something.

The idea that Mr. Campbell would then go as far as to add another thick and very opaque layer between a viewer and the paintings just made me see something that resembled Zelena. I much preferred the piece written by Françoise Sullivan at the back of the catalogue. Simple, direct and to the point. It made it clear that Ms. Zuger is an abstract painter in the grand old tradition of the Automatistes. While she does guidelines and a framework for painting what she paints, it is at the opposite end of the scale when compared to someone like say, a Guido Molinari or a Claude Tousignant. Not quite spilling and brushing the paint any which way but loose, but close.

Precipitation by Mirana Zuger
Precipitation by Mirana Zuger

There are some of her paintings that kind of remind me of something that Mark Rothko could have made, others remind me a little bit of the work of Leopold Plotek. There was one painting done on paper and another small bronze sculpture, Baseline and Wish respectively. Had I been asked, I would have suggested that they be left out of the exhibit in place of two other paintings. Back when I had Zeke’s Gallery, I would try to keep the shows as focused as possible. I would mention to the artists that when they were 80 years-old, it would be fine and dandy to have a retrospective that incorporated painting, sculpture, drawing, video any gosh darn thing that they pleased. But at the beginning of a career it is extremely helpful to present a fairly uniform body of work. I imagine it is part of the reason Paul McCartney and Elvis Costello did not compose classical music until they had already established themselves. Why Elvis Presley did not record Gospel music until his name (and voice) had been firmly established.

Baseline and Wish make it obvious that Ms. Zuger can and does work using lots of different materials, I can’t help but think that being able to see two other paintings would have helped enormously in furthering the understanding and comprehension of her work. And besides when you’re dealing with abstract paintings that large, things can get pretty hairy and fairly powerful – when they’re done up right, it kind of feels like how I would imagine being in the eye of a hurricane would feel. By exhibiting the sculpture and paper, it brings down the intensity to something more akin to a really strong thunderstorm.

Installation view of Vrtlar by Mirana Zuger at the McClure Gallery, showing Zelena and Baseline
Installation view of Vrtlar by Mirana Zuger at the McClure Gallery, showing Zelena and Baseline

One other nit picky point, some of the paintings are labelled as being on “rabbit skin sized canvas.” Being the hardheaded blowhard and duffer that I am, I was initially going to call her on what I thought was a large bluff. Not even if I skinned Harvey would I be able to get a canvas that was five feet by six feet. Besides while bunnies are delicious, I can’t quite believe that leather made from their skin would make for a great object to paint on. But thankfully I went to her website, and things became clearer. She uses something called “Rabbit Skin Glue” to do something similar to priming her canvases. Sizing being something you do to protect and glaze a piece of paper or textile.

Installation view of Vrtlar by Mirana Zuger at the McClure Gallery
Installation view of Vrtlar by Mirana Zuger at the McClure Gallery

I can only guess at why Ms. Zuger decided to call the show Gardener (in Serbo-Croat). There is obviously some sort of connection to her culture (if I remember correctly, her grandfather came to Canada from Yugoslavia, back when it was still called Yugoslavia) but whether she thinks that the painting Vrtlar was the best one in the exhibit and therefore worthy of naming the whole show, or it has something to do with the bright colors reminding Ms. Zuger of flowers, or the care and work she took in making the various paintings was similar to that which she would have done in creating a garden, or something completely different I have no idea. Nor does it really matter, because as Ms. Sullivan so eloquently writes Ms. Zuger’s “brushwork, her vigorous form and colour come with a sense of renewal, a feeling that it is right.”

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
3) that poetic or artistic license, visual literacy – and, while we’re at it, basic literacy – never mind “semiotic” and “performative“, are all terms with which a self professed “culture guy” should be comfortable.
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 Coriolis are in response to an article I wrote about a month before this one on a piece of art that M. Lasserre made.

Art, Montréal, Ramble, Review, Visual Art

Presence at Wilder & Davis

Howdy!

One of my favorite galleries is Wilder & Davis Luthiers. Mostly because its primary purpose is not to display art, but to fix and make violins, violas and cellos (and maybe the occasional double bass as well). It’s in a wonderful two story building just down the street from my place. I’m friends with Elizabeth Barbosa who is the director of the space. There’s something extremely comforting and nice about people who know bend and shape exotic wood so that it can sing also like not only having pretty pictures around, but also opening up their place of business so that other people can see them as well. All in my neighborhood as well, what more could you ask for?

Installation view of Judith Klugerman's work in Présence at Wilder & Davis
Installation view of Judith Klugerman’s work in Présence at Wilder & Davis

In my mind, it’s pretty much a perfect example of how Quebec culture works. Not only making sure it is an integral part of life, but so completely integrated into the fabric of the community that to be without the art life would seem weird. While Wilder & Davis Luthiers aren’t a government run Maison de la Culture, they are the for-profit commercial equivalent, and in certain respects might actually be doing better than any of the Maison de la Culture as they are open 8½ hours/day 6 days/week, which is far more than any MdC.

Installation view of Nicole Doré-Brune's work in the Violin room at Wilder and Davis.
Installation view of Nicole Doré-Brune’s work in the Violin room at Wilder and Davis.

This particular show is called Présence (it is up on their walls until July 20). Guest curated by Wah Wing Chan it features fourteen different artists all showing work on paper that somehow is an interpretation of the word presence. Kind of a stretch if you ask me, since it is an extremely vague and nebulous concept that could potentially be used on just about any piece of art.

None the less, tossing the title and concept out the window, it also was an opportunity to see some good work, some great work as well as some not so great work (as is the case in just about every group show I’ve ever seen or organized). On the positive side though by viewing art in a real-world situation, such as a working luthier, it enables the art that is not so strong (read as a polite way to say something not so good) to become background and not stick out so much.

Installation view of Jean Fitzgerald's work in Présence in the Cello room of Wilder and Davis.
Installation view of Jean Fitzgerald’s work in Présence in the Cello room of Wilder and Davis.

On the flip side, seeing good and great art in a real-world situation ends up making it somewhat more difficult to fully appreciate. With all the distractions, it can get a little bit dicey. But invariably great art will win out and win over its surroundings in kind of the same way that the sun always manages to be seen despite any temporary clouds.

Now I think is the time to start naming names, the fourteen artists are Hannah Alpha, Marie-Ange Brassard, Nicole Doré-Brunet, Jean Fitzgerald, Mustafa Hacalaki, Julianna Joos, Ingeborg Jürgensen Hiscox, Judith Klugerman, Ann McCall, Mary Milne, Yveline Montiglio, Rolande Pelletier, Anaïs Ronceray and Todd Stewart.

Todd Stewart, Saint Zotique, Print, 2011
Todd Stewart, Saint Zotique, Print, 2011

Google Street View of the same house.

There was nothing really earth shattering. As I mentioned, the art ran the gamut from not good to very good. The combination of the instruments and the art had a calming effect, not quite the same as being in a church, but similar. It gave a certain weight to the prints that I don’t think they would have had in say a cafe. A sense of comfort if you will.

Another reason why I’m not all that keen on the concept of the exhibit is that Présence (in French) and Presence (in English) have different meanings. The primary definition in both languages is fairly similar, but once you get below the surface – which, to my understanding is what art is supposed to do – the meanings diverge widely, with the French being much closer to the ideas of church and spirit, and the English sticking to the more concrete. But that all being said, it’s still a good collection of artists in an extremely nice setting that is not your standard issues white cube.

Présence at Galerie Wilder & Davis, 257 Rachel Est until July 20.

Art, Montréal, Painting, Québec, Ramble, Rant, Review, Visual Art

Canadian Art Auction at Iegor – Hôtel des Encans

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Howdy!

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.
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
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.
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 sell
Johanne Corno, Breast and Blue at Iegor – Hôtel des Encans, June 19, 2012. Did not sell
Jacques Hurtubise, Citrique at Iegor - Hôtel des Encans June 19, 2012. Sold for $1,655.64
Jacques Hurtubise, Citrique at Iegor – Hôtel des Encans June 19, 2012. Sold for $1,655.64
Alfred Pellan prints at Iegor - Hôtel des Encans, June 19, 2012
Alfred 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.
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 $1,793.61
Zilon, Se dire adieu at the Iegor – Hôtel des Encans auction June 19, 2012. Sold for $1,793.61
Zilon, Se dire adieu at Iegor - Hôtel des Encans (detail)
Zilon, 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.

Art, Montréal, Painting, Ramble, Rave, Review, Visual Art

Claude Tousignant : Périphériques et Retables at Art Mûr

Howdy!

So do you know what a retable is? As a good Jew and a card carrying squarehead and bloke, I had no freaking clue what so ever. But after seeing the exhibit by Claude Tousignant at Art Mûr and then looking the words up on Wikipedia, Google and a couple of other places just to make sure, it all made sense. I could kind of muddle through “périphériques.” Ditch the accents, modify the “ques” to an “als” and even the most stubborn monolingual Francophobe can get an idea of what Claude Tousignant meant, but the second part of the title is a little bit more obscure, Especially if you were born after the Quiet Revolution. Although to be honest, the paintings look to me, more along the lines of Devices and Altarpieces and not quite Periphials and Retables, slightly less precise terms leave a lot more room for interpretation of the art.

If you weren’t aware, Claude Tousignant is one of the heavy hitters of contemporary Quebecois art. He is, along with Françoise Sullivan, Armand Vaillancourt, Fernand Leduc, Jacques Hurtubise and Marcel Barbeau kind of like the really, really old guard. Still working away and making things (although I am not certain if M. Leduc is still making things, and I wonder why M. Barbeau hasn’t received a prix Borduas yet, but I digress…). The people who signed manifestos and who actually caused change here. Although I have never met him, I imagine he is a very nice person. Or at least one of his daughters is. I got to know Isa Tousignant via her sweetie and the local across the street from Zeke’s Gallery where a bunch of us would have a glass or two of beer after work.

Claude Tousignant, Retables #2,
Claude Tousignant, Retables #2,

One of the things that caught my eye, was how Art Mûr did not print any prices on the wall tags. Normally, when something like that happens, it is the super-secret-art-world-insider-code for “too rich for your type.” But in this case I am not so certain, because upstairs they were exhibiting a sculpture with a price tag of $160,000 clearly marked. And despite how many times I buy a 6/49 ticket, $160K is too rich for my type. Maybe M. Tousignant is not only a very nice guy, but a private one as well, and isn’t quite comfortable with something potentially as crass as cash money. I don’t think I have ever seen a painting of his go up for auction, and if my memory is correct the prints of his that I’ve seen have gone for something like a couple of thousand dollars. So it is quite possible that the Périphériques and Retables weren’t outrageously expensive, merely a lot of money. If anybody knows what the prices were don’t hesitate to pipe up.

But enough about the background, what about the paintings themselves? They are variations on a theme. The two Retables are each three canvases attached side to side to side, with the middle canvas being slightly higher than the ones on the sides. Number One uses canvases 4′ 2″ square, Number Two has two canvases of 5′ square and one of 5′ 2″ square. For lack of a Pantone chart, Number One consists of a white, a blue and an red canvas, while Number Two’s canvases are green, purple and orange. I presume that the date and M. Tousignant’s signature is on the back. Overall they are quite stately and imposing. I preferred Number Two, although that might just be because it was the first one I saw and has a much more significant placement within the gallery. Now I could go completely off on abstract painting, post-painterly abstraction, color fields and minimalism, but I won’t. I’m fairly certain that if you want to, you can find someone or someplace that will expound upon them to your heart’s content.

Claude Tousignant, Retables #1
Claude Tousignant, Retables #1

Obviously made to be hung in the front of a church, I’m not entirely certain what denomination of Catholicism would be appropriate. Despite the fact that I refuse to use a flash, it’s still possible to tell from the crappy pictures I took that Number Two is the three secondary colors. The closest I can get to figuring out the color theory behind Number One is that M. Tousignant took the Russian flag and turned it on its side. The Périphériques are where the fun kicks in. There are four of them exhibited, but as the largest number in the titles is thirteen (they are all part of a series, which I presume is numbered consecutively), there are at least nine others kicking around someplace. All marked as “variable dimensions,” that incredibly useful phrase to hide (or ignore) all sorts of details. Each consists of a collection of smallish square canvases painted one color. These canvases are then arrayed on the wall in a way that on first glance looks like some sort of cubic solar system or a three dimensional still from one of those trippy-dippy animated films that the NFB made in the sixties.

With the Périphériques, the big deal is how M. Tousignant uses the wall as part of the installation. His instructions for installing them are shown in the inside front page of the magazine that Art Mûr publishes, and I was very surprised to see that the dimensions are in inches (and in certain cases sixteenths of an inch) nor does it appear that there is any theory behind how they are hung. It’d be kind of neat to see what M. Tousignant could do if he got rid of the canvases and started painting directly on the wall. Not quite Sol Lewitt, but kind of. I’m certain that if I studied each one close enough, I could possibly knock together some kind of color/size theory on how they were created. But I instead, decided just to try and get a sense of what M. Tousignant was getting at. Trying to get into his frame of mind by proxy if you will. Where the Retables come across as heavy and domineering, like one of those chords on an organ, the Périphériques are much more recorder like, similar to one of those renaissance songs with the typos and the musicians in all sorts of puffy clothing.

Claude Tousignant, Compostion Murale #1 (suite Périphérique)
Claude Tousignant, Compostion Murale #1 (suite Périphérique)

It’s extremely heartening to see an artist of M. Tousignant’s caliber exhibiting in a gallery such as Art Mûr, it obviously speaks highly of Rhéal Olivier Lanthier and François St-Jacques, the two guys who run it. The one slight negative thing I would have to say, is just I wish that they were capable of getting M. Tousignant’s work noticed on an international level. There is not a single museum outside of Canada listed on his CV in the Art Mûr magazine. Which is a glaring hole, but to be expected with how Quebecois Art is viewed (or not viewed) in the rest of the world.

If I had any theories about Contemporary Abstract Art made in Quebec, this would be the place to state them. But I don’t, I just kind of look at it, wonder why it doesn’t get better recognition in the rest of the world and then go look at it some more, M. Tousignant’s work to my mind, is on a par, if not better than any other living artist in the world today (including such folks as Gerhard Richter, Peter Doig and David Hockney) if Art Mûr is in fact charging millions of dollars for M. Tousignant’s work, then I am completely and utterly astonished and will gladly take back everything I have ever said about Contemporary Quebecois Art not getting the fiscal respect (and all other types of respect that go along with it) that it deserves. Baring that, M. Tousigant’s work makes me hope that I can make as effective, entertaining, interesting and kick-ass work when I am 80 years-old.

Art, Fashion, Montréal, Painting, Ramble, Review, Visual Art

East vs. West at Three Monkeys

Howdy!

Since I’m on the topic of sellable art, I should mention that I also went to see the East vs. West exhibit at Three Monkeys. I don’t think anyone has ever done a study on it, but I would venture a guess that if you own a store, putting art up on the walls and hosting exhibits is a cheap and effective way to market and promote the store. On the other hand, wall space is valuable real estate for merchandising, and if it was truly effective than there probably would be more stores that did it, right?

Anyhow, either way by presenting the show, it succeeded in getting me into a clothing store, which is no mean feat. According to the folderol that they put out on Facebook and Twitter

the show was organized with the help of the Ayden Gallery in Vancouver and some clothing company called Lifetime Collective. My guess would be that the folk at Ayden put some art in the mail, and the folk at Lifetime sent a check – but I could be wrong. The large majority of it is arranged grid-like on the back wall of the store. There are a couple of other places as well where they have managed to hang some stuff, but as it really and truly is a clothing store, the art is not quite as front and center as I would have preferred.

East vs. West at Three Monkeys, installation view, image courtesy Three Monkeys and Facebook
East vs. West at Three Monkeys, installation view, image courtesy Three Monkeys and Facebook

It’s a fairly large group of artists, thirteen to be exact, six from Vancouver and nine Montrealers (Peter Ricq was identified as being from both Montreal and Vancouver). Other than the geography, there isn’t really anything linking the art together which depending on where you sit could be a good thing or a bad thing. Bad in that anytime you try to start making links between art it is unlikely to work as well as you think, and there is a strong chance that someone like me will come along and question just about everything. Good in that it does give the viewer some kind of hook on which they can hang their hat. The geography thing does work as the hook in this case.

East vs. West at Three Monkeys, installation view
East vs. West at Three Monkeys, installation view

But since there was nothing on the tags to identify who came from where, and I didn’t really go from one end of the store to the other to double check against the list that was written by the door, I didn’t really get any sense of regional identity for any of the artists. It was much more like, “here it is, look at it.”

East vs. West at Three Monkeys, installation view
East vs. West at Three Monkeys, installation view

So I did. The quality of the work was uniformly pretty good, there wasn’t anything that really jumped out a beat me over the head with how great it was. The closest would have been the double exposure portrait by Andrew Young, either because it was centered on the back wall, it was a larger piece, because of its unusual canvas, or more likely all three.

Andrew Young, Untitled, Oil on Wood,
Andrew Young, Untitled, Oil on Wood

Another piece I quite liked was the group piece on the bottom of one column in the store, judging by their facebook photo album it was done by at least Mr. Ricq and Guillaume Blackburn. probably due to them copying the En Masse style.

Overall, as you might have guessed, I’m quite fond of shows like this. A sort of pop-up gallery if you will, furthering the idea that art should be an inegral part of everyone’s life. It especially helps that there wasn’t any heavy theory behind it, and that the quality of all the work was above average. I hope that the people who attended the vernissage bought some clothes as well as some art, so that more exhibits like this can be done.

If you want to take a gander at it, Three Monkeys is on the Metcalfe side of Les Cours Mont Royal right next to the fountain, and the show itself is up until the end of the month.

Description of show
Highlights
Mention of NYTimes article

Art, Montréal, Photography, Québec, Ramble, Rant, Review, Visual Art

Henri Venne : Somewhere in Between at Art Mûr

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Howdy!

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
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
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
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
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
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

Montréal, Music, Performance, Québec, Ramble, Rave, Review

Yannick Nézet-Séguin and the Orchestre Métropolitain’s Brahms Symphonic Cycle

Howdy!

It must’ve been a pretty big thing. Three of the six daily newspapers in town did preview articles about the Brahms Cycle (Symphony 1, Symphony 2, Symphony 3, Symphony 4) that Yannick Nézet-Séguin and the Orchestre Métropolitain performed over the weekend (one, two, three). What with everything else happening in town at the same time, I’m impressed that it got that much coverage. After the fact, it got some as well in La Presse, Le Devoir, The Gazette, La Scena Musicale and someplace called Bachtrack. I bring this up, because I was invited by the orchestra to watch them play as well, and while I’m not certain I would have classified it as a big deal, it was fun.

It was my first visit inside the Maison Symphonique which still is not completed (anyone want to take bets on when it will be done?) I will continue to wait to comment on the building until it is finished. But that’s not going to stop me from commenting about the concerts. The first one, on Saturday evening was of Symphonies One and Two. Then on Sunday afternoon they performed Symphonies Three and Four along with Brahms’ Violin Concerto. For the most part I’ve been concentrating on the Symphonies. No slight intended to Benjamin Beilman, he was very good, but the majority of this piece is not going to be about him. It was also my first time in a long time, something like two or three years, seeing an orchestra. For whatever reasons I’ve been concentrating on chamber music recently. After seeing the Orchestre Métropolitain, I’m going to have to get back into the habit again.

It appears that Maestro Nézet-Séguin is on some kind of Brahms streak right now. In going back over his concerts since September 2006, he performed Brahms’ symphonies eight times with four different orchestras prior to May of this year. Then from May 11 to August 31 of this year (as far in advance as the calendar on his website goes) he will be performing them fourteen times with all three orchestras that he directs! Although we are lucky here as we are the only city to get to hear the third symphony. Rotterdam is getting One and Two, and Philadelphia is getting One and Four. In doing the research for this article both the Rotterdams Philharmonisch and the Orchestre Métropolitain made promo videos (I guess the Philadelphia Orchestra isn’t quite in a position to be able to afford to make promo videos just yet).

The Rotterdam promo

And the Orchestre Métropolitain promo

All nice enough, nothing terribly earth shattering, although it’s kind of cool that Maestro Nézet-Séguin has a favorite conductor. Also, as long as I am talking about the stuff in advance of the concert, I must, respectfully take exception to what Arthur Kaptainis wrote. While his logic was reasonable, he was completely and thoroughly wrong. None of the symphonies Maestro Nézet-Séguin conducted were particularly slow. I would also presume that the performances with the different orchestras will be as different as the orchestras themselves.

I also came across this interview with him from twelve years ago. I wonder how long it is going to take for him to shake the “young conductor” label. I know that when I was 37, I certainly didn’t think of myself as a youngster.

But enough of the rambling. I really should get to the meat of the matter. For the first concert we were seated right beside (if slightly above) the orchestra. They were definitely entertaining seats, as we had a clear view of Maestro Nézet-Séguin conducting and were almost on top of Jean-Guy Plante. I can remember one other time being that close to an orchestra, and while I can understand the allure of being further back so that the sound (theoretically) is better, given that a concert is a live performance, being that close gives you a lot of things to look at. As I said, highly entertaining. Being that close also enabled me to see my favorite violinist and viola players, Celine Arcand and Jean Rene. I wasn’t close enough to make out their playing individually, but I know that they were great.

Maestro Nézet-Séguin mentioned that the set up of the orchestra was Viennese, which as he pointed out meant that the Double Basses were behind the brass section, however the trumpet players were also using rotary-valve trumpets which is particular to the Vienna Philharmonic. My ear isn’t good enough to know if they tuned to A443 or if they used any other techniques, specific instruments or ideas from the Vienna Philharmonic, but I would venture a guess as to yes. It would be interesting to see if he got his other two orchestras to do the same when they do their Brahms gigs.

The back row of a Viennese Orchestra setup.
The back row of a Viennese Orchestra setup.

As I mentioned earlier, Maestro Nézet-Séguin’s tempos weren’t particularly slow. I was able to get my hands on a bunch of different recordings and for the First Symphony it sounded to me as if he was leading them at pretty much the same tempo as Antal Doráti‘s recordings from the late 50s and early 60s. While it would have been nice if I could have identified the tempos of the other symphonies, my sense of timing is not quite as good as my sense of tone, so you’re just going to have to trust me on this one.

The one thing that I was able to pick up on was that in comparison to the recordings that I heard, the Orchestre Métropolitain did not have as much of a dynamic range. However I do not know if that was due to where I was sitting or if it was in fact due to the orchestra. Given that they were a small bunch to start with (about 58 musicians onstage) it might have been a case of not being large enough to get really loud, and therefore the quieter parts didn’t sound as dramatically different.

In the first concert I completely missed the First Symphony’s transition from the third to fourth movement, and then when paying particularly close attention during the Second Symphony understood why. In the Second Symphony the pause was incredibly short, barely enough time for the musicians to turn the page in their scores. I would imagine that it was similar in the First Symphony as well – or perhaps I just fell asleep at the wrong time.

The music itself was very nice. In my notes I refer to it not being syrupy at all, and in certain parts being extremely fluid. If you’re really interested, when I have finished Walter Frisch‘s book Brahms: The Four Symphonies I’ll be in a much better position to describe what was happening as the music was playing, but for the time being you’re going to have to put up with things like “it sounds like they are skipping through a field,” and “kind of like suspended in amber.”

Yannick Nézet-Séguin and the Orchestre Métropolitain
Yannick Nézet-Séguin and the Orchestre Métropolitain

I couldn’t understand, nor did I really like or appreciate that during the intermission there were some children sawing their way through Vivaldi right beside the bar. Afterwards I discovered that there had been some kind of community outreach by the orchestra and Maestro Nézet-Séguin to a local high school. That’s all fine and dandy, but playing inappropriate background music where there really shouldn’t be any is not the way to do it. Working with musicians from the orchestra and being conducted (is that the proper way to say it?) by Maestro Nézet-Séguin definitely fits the bill, and as long as I am at it, I also think they should have been invited to both concerts, not just one. After the intermission, it was back to our seats for Symphony Number Two. In the program they mentioned how “Brahms’s Concerto for Violin displays features that make it almost a companion piece to his Symphony No. 2.” Which made me wonder why they didn’t play them on the same night.

Of the four symphonies I heard them play, the second was, to my ears the weakest. Which is not to say it wasn’t good, just that the other three were better. Specifically in the third movement where they seemed to be alternating between being sloppy and being sludgy. Of the four it was the one that sounded the least emotional to me. Not robotic or mechanical, but more “rote” than “with feeling.” I don’t know where the thought came from, but it occurred to me that it might a=have been a case of not having enough practice time. Maestro Nézet-Séguin tweeted that they only did seven rehearsals which means that one of the symphonies only got one rehearsal. If that was the case, my money is on the second.

Yannick Nézet-Séguin and the Orchestre Métropolitain
Yannick Nézet-Séguin and the Orchestre Métropolitain

On Sunday we returned to the still unfinished Maison Symphonique. This time our seats were one row back and on the other side of the orchestra. I definitely know that being one row further back is not a good thing, but I’m undecided as to which side is better. Ultimately when given a gift of tickets, it’s exceedingly difficult to request specific seats. Although I was able to see Mr. Kaptainis from the Gazette sitting fairly far back, on the floor, towards the left. In your standard issue critic’s seats. I think that maybe the ones directly behind the orchestra might be pretty cool. But at some point (once they have completed the building) I’m going to have to try out a variety of different seats to see which ones sound best – after all they have been touting about how great the acoustics are in the building.

The usher in our section wasn’t particularly well trained. We had accidentally entered on the wrong side of the stage and were making our way through the seats to get to the other side, when he stopped us and tried to make us go the opposite way through a large crowd of people walking through a small doorway. Kind of like swimming upstream through quicksand. We didn’t pay him any attention, and hopefully someone will give him some training on how to seat people properly. Then also in looking around at the crowd, the Orchestre Métropolitain really needs to do some work on getting people with different colored skin to show up to their concerts. It was quite easy to see how they had made very good progress in getting a younger crowd to come see them. But I was able to count on my fingers and toes the number of people in the audience whose skin was darker than mine. Next year when they tour the island of Montreal they only play in one neighborhood with a significant recent immigrant population. If anyone is interested, I’d suggest that they play in Montreal North and St. Michel as often as they play in Hochelaga-Maisonneuve, Saint Laurent and Pierrefonds.

The Third Symphony seemed to me to be slower than that of the Dorati version I had been listening to. And I think that I made a mistake in listening to it before the concert. Instead of using the concert as my baseline/benchmark and comparing everything I heard to it. I ended up with the Dorati version being the baseline/benchmark and unfortunately comparing the concert to the recording instead of the other way around. Overall it was very light, in a good way. I noted that at various points it almost seemed as if Maestro Nézet-Séguin let the musicians themselves set the pace, which to my ears seemed like a good thing.

We then got the Violin Concerto, and Mr. Beilman acquitted himself very well. I can’t find anything on YouTube of him playing any Brahms, and after all the reading and listening I did for the symphonies, I just wasn’t able to find the time to get to the Violin Concerto, sorry.

The Fourth Symphony started out like a large boat cruising down an even larger river, at various points it sounded to me like some graceful nymphs, tip toeing and very lyrical. But the thing that most impressed me was the fourth movement, where I was incapable of writing one word down – I was just that riveted by the music. While the third movement of Brahms’ Fourth Symphony is the famous one and always reminds me of some B-movie western from the 50s in technicaolor

What Maestro Nézet-Séguin did with the fourth movement was better than particularly nice, it was downright gorgeous and very pretty (I should also point out that Marie-Andrée Benny did an awesome job as well). If I could make it down to Saratoga in August to hear him perform it with the Philadelphia Orchestra I would. If you can, you should. And don’t forget that Yannick Nézet-Séguin and the Orchestre Métropolitain will be playing Brahms’ First Symphony again on July 22 at the Domain Forget and are playing two free concerts at Theatre de Verdure on July 20 and August 4.

Then to wrap things up (this has become rather large) I noticed in the program that Maestro Nézet-Séguin donated more than $50,000 to the Orchestre Métropolitain. Which confused the heck out of me, wouldn’t it just be simpler to reduce his salary? It’s quite the gesture and should be done by many more people, but made me realize that conductors are a little bit like NASCAR drivers. The way they earn their money is vary opaque and coming from a variety of very different sources, and as a consequence isn’t exactly clear. Overall though I’m very happy to see that he is making enough money to donate such a large chunk of change.

Overall I’d have to say I was quite pleased with how things turned out. I’m not sure I’d always be interested in doing a sort of marathon of music devoted to on composer, but this one worked out well. Whatever the reason, it was very good to see an orchestra again, and finally get to see Maestro Nézet-Séguin in action. I’m looking forward to the next time. And then lastly (if you’re still reading this far) you should take this quick, easy and very silly test.