Category Archives: Sculpture

Pierre Granche, Comme si le temps… de la rue

Howdy!

One of my favorite Montreal sculptures is Comme si le temps… de la rue by Pierre Granche. Unfortunately, in the most recent set of renovations to what used to be the Hall des Pas perdus of Place des Arts, but that they now call Espace culturel Georges-Émile-Lapalme they have just about killed it.

Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche
Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche

A little background; back in the early 90’s the Musée d’art contemporain de Montréal was planning on moving from Cité du Havre to downtown and getting themselves a brand spanking new building in the process. As the law stipulated, 1% of the project had to be dedicated to creating art. Even if it was a museum they still had to make more art specifically for the place (that’s one of the things I like most in theory about the 1% for art law, is that it ends up creating site specific work).

Anyhows, Pierre Granche [pdf alert] a sculptor and a teacher (he was one of the people responsible for the Universite de Montreal‘s visual arts department – and now that he’s dead, they no longer have one. Make of that what you will…) submitted a proposal and won. (I’m still going to have to try and find out who was one the jury.) And in 1992, what ended up getting built was Comme si le temps… de la rue.

The view from the bar of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche
The view from the bar of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche

Basically it was a bunch of aluminum cutouts in a semi circle with a waterfall. It was open to the sky and viewable from the esplanade of Place des Arts, which gave a viewer the chance to have a complete overview of the entire piece (which is not a small piece by any stretch of the imagination). And there is a skylight looking down into the Musée d’art contemporain de Montréal’s restoration workshops.

[Old pictures here, here, here, and here]

I never gave it much thought, always figuring that at some time in the future I would hunker down and give it the time, energy and thought that it required.

Well that time is now (actually, Sunday night, as I try to write these posts in advance of posting them). Because I was passing by over the weekend and from where I sit the powers that be (in reality Consortium Menkès, Schooner, Dagenais, Le Tourneux/Provencher, Roy Jean-Pierre Le Tourneux, concepteur Claude Bourbeau, chargé de projet) have completely and thoroughly killed, destroyed, ruined and entirely screwed up Comme si le temps… de la rue [pdf alert] by Pierre Granche.

In short, by placing a roof over it and turning off the waterfall, they have stripped the sculpture of all meaning, significance and comprehensibility. it is now no more than the equivalent of a fancy-ass and extremely expensive indoor lawn ornament for the Deschamps bar at Place des Arts.

Another view from the bar of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche
Another view from the bar of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche

From the seats at the the Deschamps bar, it is completely and thoroughly impossible to get any perspective on the piece. By being so close to it, you literally can’t see the forest for the trees.

The third view from the bar of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche
The third view from the bar of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche

The roof of the bar prevents you from seeing the tops of the sculptures. And by being so close you can no longer gain any perspective on the base. And perspective was what Comme si le temps… de la rue was all about. There are two extremely large and two merely large aluminum sculptures that depending on which way you swing could represent either the ancient Egyptian god Sobek, or the ancient Egyptian god Set. There are also a couple of construction cranes, and seven things, that again (depending on which way you swing) could either be some sort of vaguely sphinx-like objects, or if you squint really heard could be viewed as some kind of deer or reindeer-like domesticated animal.

The plaque for Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche
The plaque for Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche

My quick and dirty translation of the plaque for the blokes in the house

Pierre Granche’s installation offers a mythical vision of Montreal. Inspired from Greek Theatre and Egyptian iconography, it works a representation of the urban fabric between Mount Royal and the St. Lawrence River through the use of a waterfall. Sculptured female figures used as a columns in an Egyptian style with bird’s heads refer to the history of art and architecture in a totem pole fashion. The sphinxes with deer antlers make their presence known on the outskirts of a city in action. And finally, the bird’s eye view of the work was from the esplanade of Place des Arts Preview, reflects the city as the top of Mont Royal.

OK, how many mistakes can you spot? If I were a tourist wandering through Espace culturel Georges-Émile-Lapalme I’d be scratching my head in wonder, trying to figure out what the heck they were talking about. Waterfall? Bird’s eye view? There ain’t none, no more.

And while I’m at it, there isn’t any Greekness (theatre or iconography or anything else) in the piece. When they are writing in French they use the word cariatides or in squarehead speak: caryatid, or in plain English “a sculpted female figure serving as an architectural support taking the place of a column or a pillar supporting moldings and bands on her head.” (Thanks Wikipedia!) And they speak of it as the parts that are Greek. One problem though, a column by definition supports something. And these objects don’t support a darn thing. Comme si le temps… de la rue is 100% Egyptian in its influences.

A slightly different interior view of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche
A slightly different interior view of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche

And as long as I am disputing the “official” wall plaque. Those aren’t deer antlers on the sphinxes either. I don’t think that there ever was a 37 point buck that ever lived… anywhere.

One of the sphinx-like objects in Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche.
One of the sphinx-like objects in Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche.

However, if you go with the idea that the two extremely large and the two merely large sculptures are representations of the Egyptian god Set, the god of chaos and foreign lands. Then I think we’re getting someplace. The early 1990s in Quebec were a volatile place. Quebec was on the cusp of a referendum to separate, the Bloc Quebecois were founded in 1991. In between 1990 and 1993 there were 46 major buildings built in Montreal. The Montreal Expos were sold in 1991 and subsequently became one of the best teams in major league baseball in the early 1990s. 1992 was also the 375th anniversary of the founding of Montreal. There were a ton of things happening in Montreal at the time and there was most definitely a sense of chaos in the air (if you don’t trust me, ask someone else who lived here then).

Interior view of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche
Interior view of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche

Also if you look closely, on each of the Sets, there is a cityscape, with some sort of root structure. I’m not quite certain what to make of the root structures. But if you flip them upside down, they become the deer antlers on the sphinxes. And there are no known instances of deer appearing in ancient Egypt. But maybe, kind of, perhaps it has something to do with some sort of family tree-like structure? I dunno.

But we’re getting off the point here. Comme si le temps… de la rue is all about Montreal. There’s a representation of the mountain on the largest Set, and the waterfall was a direct reference to the river.

Detail of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche showing the mountain on Set's head.
Detail of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche showing the mountain on Set's head.
Detail of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche showing the (now dry) waterfall
Detail of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche showing the (now dry) waterfall
Detail of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche showing the drain
Detail of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche showing the drain

And while we’re showing lots of pictures, here are some of it from above.

As you approach to view of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche
As you approach to view of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche
A horrible view of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche
A horrible view of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche
Still another horrible view of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche
Still another horrible view of Comme si le temps... de la rue by Pierre Granche

And then in consideration of the unilingual people in the house, Comme si le temps… de la rue translates as “As if time… from the street.” You can fill in the blank yourself, but by referring back to ancient Egyptian times Granche endows Montreal with a similar sense of history. Despite it being made when Montreal was only 350 years-old, if you squint hard enough (or maybe click your heels three times or go to the Neighborhood of Make-Believe) you can pretend that Montreal has been around for more than 5,000 years, just like Egypt.

Then my last question is, if it was made for the construction of the Musée d’art contemporain de Montréal and is directly on top of their restoration workshops, why does it belong to the Place des Arts collection? Shouldn’t it belong to the Musée d’art contemporain de Montréal?

Glen Le Mesurier, Arcane de Mer

Howdy!

What is it about Montreal and place temporary sculpture exhibits in parks where junkies hang out? Last month I wrote about Robert Lorrain at the Parc des Faubourgs, and at about the same time as I was writing that, I discovered the Glen Le Mesurier exhibit called Arcane de Mer at Cabot Square.

Cabot Square, for those who don’t frequent it all that often, is across the street from the Pepsi Forum and is notorious for being a hangout for junkies, hookers, hustlers and other assorted members of the not-quite-ready-for-the-nine-to-five lifestyle. I, myself, can remember selling oregano cigarettes, 3 for $5 there before a Gentle Giant show there in the 1970s.

The Pedagogic Panel for Glen Le Mesurier's Arcane de Mer.
The Pedagogic Panel for Glen Le Mesurier's Arcane de Mer.

Yeah, I know it’s not a great photo, but if you squint you can make out what it says. For the francophobes reading this, it roughly translates as

Glen Le Mesurier is a prolific artist know for making environmental sculptures. For 25 years he has show his work in Europe and the United States. In Montreal his work is on display at Sunset Garden [Ed note: it sounds WAY better in French as Le Jardin du Crépuscule] a permanent exhibit in the hipster neighborhood, Mile End. There are over 100 of his sculptures all over the world, Montreal and even in some private homes and stores. This exhibit of 10 sculptures made out of steel recycled from trains and ships took over two years to make. In memory of the voyages that Cabot made. These sculptures form an allegorical triptych combining movement, shipbuilding and spirit of adventure.

Overall it’s a nice enough exhibit. I didn’t get (or see) and of the kineticism of the sculptures, nor did any of them remind me of shipbuilding or Giovanni Cabot. But maybe whomever wrote the offending paragraph on the sign didn’t actually have a chance to see the sculptures before writing what they wrote.

A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.

As none of the sculptures had titles (or had titles that I was able to ascertain) it’s tough to figure out what M. Le Mesurier had in mind. If you squint hard, this one can look like a ships wheel. But to my eye it looks way more like an eye or perhaps a compass. Then again, it also could be some sort of monument to a sun god or any number of other things depending on which way you look at it.

A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.

This one, I’m not certain what to make of it, a bunch of circles, and semicircles, arranged in a vaguely totemic fashion. It doesn’t make me think much about the sea or ships unless I squint hard and then perhaps, maybe it reminds me of something kind of like a lighthouse. But if M. Le Mesurier had decided to name the exhibit Arcane de Haida then the connection to totem poles would be much more evident. And what’s with the use of the word “Arcane” in the title? On one hand, if he wanted to keep things mysterious, secret and obscure, I would have suggested picking a title that didn’t attract attention to the mysterious, the secret and the obscure. But on the other hand, I can’t help but think that the title has something to do with Tarot cards, but there are only 10 sculptures, whereas there are 22 arcana major cards and 56 arcana minor cards so the numerology is not quite there.

A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.

I don’t quite know what to make of this one, especially since it has a hat on. The gears inside kind of confuse me as well. Up close it reminds me of a film projector. But I have a sinking suspicion, that I’m missing something.

Close up of a sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
Close up of a sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.

This sculpture, appeared to me, to be placed in the wrong direction. It’s on the northwest side of Cabot Square, facing Lambert Closse. Which is all fine and dandy if you want the buses to be able to see what it looks like from the front. Because they are the only things on Lambert Closse. If whomever had installed it, had twisted it 180 degrees, then the denizens of the square would have been able to see it from the front.

A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.

No matter how hard I try the only thing I can think of when I see this sculpture, is Fozzie Bear. I think it has to do with what I would call “the mouth.”

Close up of a sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
Close up of a sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.

However the only thing I can find about Fozzie Bear being at sea is from the 220th episode of the Muppet Show, with Petula Clark as the guest, where they did this sketch called “Sea Chantey.”

Which still leaves us stretching for meanings.

A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.

At which point it probably would be better to start talking about form. If you notice, three of the five sculptures so far are columns with a circular piece on top, frequently the circular piece on top has some sort of mass inside. For those that aren’t made to look like magnifying glasses, M. Le Mesurier still manages to work a lot of circular parts in and on to the sculptures.

Now other than Cabot being fairly instrumental in proving that the world was round, I don’t see any other connections between the sculptures themselves and “Arcane de Mer.” And the world being round isn’t exactly the most obscure fact around.

Close up of a sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
Close up of a sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.

What’s not to like about really big rusted chains?

A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.

Front and back views of what I think is my favorite sculpture in the exhibit. I don’t know if it is because there is text on the metal, or because he is using an I-beam for a pedestal, or if it is due to the reproduction of the Roman aqueducts being stuck on the front, or something entirely different.

In a nutshell, with this piece M. Le Mesurier has exploded his normal methodology. Instead of having a circular piece with something insde it on top of a column, he has taken the guts (the stuff that would normally be inside the circle) and placed multiple circles around it (and also depending on your perspective, in it and on it). In effect exploding his typical style.

As a consequence, where the sculptures that look like a magnifying glass kind of focus your view on one spot, your eye ends up roaming all over the place on this one.

A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.

The only thing that comes to mind upon seeing this one, is Etta James’ song Tell Mama.

“…and I’ll make everything alright.” Granted there are no legs, and the sculpture isn’t quite as voluptuous as Etta James is, but those arms look extremely inviting and comforting. It might have something to do with the lack of detail in the face, and as a result you end up imposing your own ideas on it, and mine say “Etta James.”

A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.
A sculpture by Glen Le Mesurier in Arcane de mer at Cabot Square.

The last two sculptures at Cabot Square. I find them kind of “meh” but you may think differently.

Overall, it’s nice to see that the city takes the initiative to install temporary sculpture exhibits in disadvantaged neighborhoods during the summer. And Glen Le Mesurier’s work is a far sight better than that by Robert Lorrain at the Parc des Faubourgs, but M. Le Mesurier still has a long ways to go if these works are examples of his latest work. These sculptures are far too similar, bordering on clichéd, the only thing that they have going for them is their massive nature, but after a while, even extremely large gets mundane.

Other than making the presumption that M. Le Mesurier used old bits of ships to create the works, I can see no connection to the sea (even an obscure one) and with a lack of titles trying to find a quote, deeper, unquote meaning is going to take just a little bit more time than I have to invest in M. Le Mesurier’s work.

Ultimately I just wish that the city would be able to install a better caliber of work in both Cabot Square and Parc des Faubourgs.

Roadsworth & Brian Armstrong, Fragile at the Eaton Centre

Howdy!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Invisible Show at The Long Haul / Le Corrid’art

Howdy!

Back in May I went to the vernissage for the Invisible show at The Long Haul / Le Corrid’art. It was the day after I had bought my video camera, so obviously I had to film it… With a little bit of luck and some practice my filmmaking skills will get better.

Episode 296 [8:36]

Watch

The pieces in order seen:
Kate Puxley
Still Life with Mouse
Taxidermy tilapia, bird and mouse, various plastics, Plexiglas, wire
2011

Kate Puxley
Senza Terra: Rat
Taxidermy rat and shadow box
2010

Suzanne Desbiens
Burqa ou Bikini ?
Technique mixte sur masonite
2011

Marc Knowles Studio 3
Unseen Polar Phenomenon 3
Acrylic, ink and household latex paint on wood
2011

Vanessa Yanow
Cashmere
Inherited sweater, lint roller and gel medium
2011

Dan Svatek & Rosalie Chrétien
Parallax Rosalies
Acrylic, oil, sparkles and jellybeans on canvas
2011

Vanessa Yanow
Collaborating with Her Story — Incarnation III (Anon.)
Unfinished anonymous embroidery project, flame-worked glass, kiln-formed and etched glass, paint, ink, copper wire, embroidery thread, needles, linen on wood and photograph mounted on Plexiglas
2011

Samantha Purdy
Broadcast
Cross-stitch, paper clips, tapestry wool, felt on Aida cloth
2011

Madeleine Mayo
A Sad Lovesong
Oil on canvas
2011

Stephen H. Kawai
A Device that Sucks the Darkness from the World, Makes It Invisible and Turns It into Salt
Glass, hematite, onyx, rutilated quartz, wire, salt
2011

Jocelyne Pronovost
L’indivisible tourment de l’être humain
Contenant de métal, peinture acrylique et graphite
2011

Anna Beaudin
Sound
Oil on wood panel
2011

David Giral’s photo of Affinité by Hans Schleeh is not likely to be a ‘hot’ seller…

Howdy!

As many of you might already know, my crank gets turned by public art. So much so, that I’ve even tried to make a map of it here in town


View Public Art in Montreal in a larger map

Anyways I was real happy to see that this guy, David Giral, had taken some pictures of public art in town. And I was especially happy to see that he was taking pictures of some of the more obscure public art in town such as Affinité by Hans Schleeh. Which just might be the most obscure piece of public art in town.

<em data-recalc-dims=Affinité by Hans Schleeh, photo by David Giral” title=”Affinité by Hans Schleeh, photo by David Giral” width=”372″ height=”560″ class=”size-large wp-image-2673″ />
Affinité by Hans Schleeh, photo by David Giral

But I digress, as David Giral’s website is so obviously set up to sell his pictures, I naturally clicked on some links wanting to get an idea of how much he wanted for an 8×10, or something along those lines. So I clicked on the “buy image” button, and the first thing I was asked to do was to “Select a usage region.” After that I was asked to answer seven (7!) other questions via drop down menus. None of them offering a simple 8×10. But that’s not my problem, M. Giral only wants to sell to businesses. Which is fine. But if he really thinks that there is someone somewhere who wants a five-year worldwide license (and once I clicked on worldwide, it still asked me for a “sub-region”) to display his photo of Affinité by Hans Schleeh on one JumbroTron (doesn’t he know that they stopped making them in 2001?) and is willing to give him $3,059.28 (why not an even $3K?) I have some swampland in Florida that he might just be interested in purchasing from me…

And if I am wrong and there is some sucker who wants to pay more than $3,000 for the permission to display David Giral’s photo of Affinité by Hans Schleeh, I want to know how much is he paying in royalties to Schleeh Design? Who I think is the company that owns the rights to Affinité by Hans Schleeh.

Street Art in Montreal

Howdy!

Back in April I was passing by the Atwater metro, and I saw that someone had been very creative with some garbage bags…

Flatter and from the back
Flatter and from the back

They had made what appeared to be blow-up animals, that were inflated by the exhaust from the metro.

Flat from the back
Flat from the back

a

A different angle
A different angle

In this one you can see one inflated.

From the back
From the back

And both of them.

In action
In action

I unfortunately, like with most street art, have no idea who made these.

Deflating
Deflating

But congrats, while it isn’t completely an original idea, it was very nicely executed.

Both of them blowing in the exhaust
Both of them blowing in the exhaust
The Big one blown up
The Big one blown up
The small one blown up
The small one blown up
Close up of the big one blown up
Close up of the big one blown up
Getting Blown Up Again
Getting Blown Up Again
Flat
Flat
Completely flat
Completely flat
Just about to be blown up...
Just about to be blown up...

Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli at the Maison de la Culture Frontenac

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You’d think in a town with so many art magazines, and so much art, that it wouldn’t be that difficult to get a review someplace. Especially for an out-of-towner, someone from Belgium, someone who’s had a career for more than 20 years. But nope, getting a review in this town is not as easy as you would think.

Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli is a case in point. According to the press release she is Director of Contemporary Textile Art Research at the Centre de la Tapisserie, des Arts du Tissu et des Arts muraux de la Communauté française de Belgique (yeah, it’s a mouthful). So we know that some people someplace think she’s important. Born 74 years ago, you’d again think that with a continental culture, like we have here in Quebec, that there would be some respect towards elders. But nary a word. And then on top of it, one of the significant themes of her work is recycling and by extension saving the planet – but no one has seen fit to write about her or her work. Except of course for your trusty scribe here.

Rouge Baleri by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli
Rouge Baleri by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli

It might have been easier if they allowed picture taking at the Maison de la Culture Frontenac, but they don’t so don’t tell anyone you saw these pictures, ok? It can be our secret. Without pictures it would be kind of tough to show you what Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli’s work looks like. And while the internet it still mainly text based a well placed picture, even if taken badly by your trusty scribe, can go a long way towards illustrating things.

On first glace Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli’s work looks kind of like what I imagine Mediterranean fishing nets from the 1920s would look like. Albeit instead of being hung from strings on a beach to dry, they’re suspended in a couple of different ways on the walls of what they call “Studio 1” and lit in an extremely dramatic fashion. Imagine if you will that the beach is dark because it is night, and there is a thunderstorm and while you can’t hear the thunder, when the lightning strikes it illuminates the nets, which just so happen to be brightly colored in a variety of hues.

I screwed up and didn't write down the name of the title to this piece by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli
I screwed up and didn't write down the name of the title to this piece by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli

There are also some smaller framed swatches of fabric (and things approaching fabric) which I wasn’t all that impressed with, and a bolero jacket worthy of the finest Carmen Miranda impersonator ever along with some pretty gosh darn cool necklaces and/or bracelets.

However, in fact, they aren’t old-school fishing nets at all. But rolled up and knotted candy wrappers (for the most part). I’m not certain if I would love or hate being Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli’s dentist. Because I can’t imagine that she throws away the candy just because she needs the wrapping. Either they are making scads of cash because of all of her cavities, or all the cavities I imagine she has from of eating all that candy, or they are completely overworked because of all of her cavities (imagined or real).

For the most part they are European brands so I am not as familiar with the candies themselves, but they do make for some stunning work. What she does is roll ’em up so that they become string like and then tie them together, all the while attaching other wrappers in order to add texture and depth. There’s a white one along one wall, a red one suspended against a corner, a red and white one along another wall and a multicolored one in a corner on the floor.

Swoop by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli
Swoop by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli

The red one is called “Rouge Baleri” and was made in 2008. I need to double check, but I think the tag on the floor explaining the whos, whats and whens of the piece has a mistake. I wrote down “Baler Cerutti,” when in fact there is a pretty fancy-ass Italian design company called Cerutti Baleri. Apparently the piece was made for them and is now owned by their art director Federico Carandini. What initially got me wasn’t how it was made, or what it was made of, but the shadows that it cast. I told you that the work was lit in a very dramatic fashion.

It is suspended across the far corner of “Studio 1” and is lit by spotlights that cast shadows on the floor and walls. See the picture that I wasn’t allowed to take for more information.

The shadows cast by Rouge Baleri by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli
The shadows cast by Rouge Baleri by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli

Now you can make some obvious and overt connections between the medium that Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli uses (bits of paper that are typically discarded) and recycling, consumerism and a wide variety themes of a similar nature. But that’s like shooting fish in a barrel. What I would prefer to know is how Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli gets her bits of paper. I can’t quite imagine her dumpster diving, and at the same time I can’t quite envision her going to whatever is the Belgian equivalent of Walmart or Costco and buying all their Bacci chocolates. If I were in her shoes, I’d probably end up going to the candy company and asking if they would give or sell me a mess of their wrappers. And if this is the case, then it kind of puts a crimp in any recycling/consumerism theme. Kind of like driving to the voting station in your SUV in order to vote for the Green Party.

But enough of trying to rain on Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli’s parade, that’s not what I want to do at all. I quite like her work, but there are certain times when you don’t want to be in lockstep with the party.

Bolero MMM by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli
Bolero MMM by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli

One piece though that does make a very strong point about reducing reusing and recycling is the “Bolero MMM.” Now, as you might suspect, I’m not big into haute couture. I’m more a jeans and t-shirt sort of person. Originally made for Maurizio Galante‘s January 2011 fashion show. (And as an aside what is in the air these days about putting fashion designers’ work in art galleries? Alexander McQueen at the Met, Jean-Paul Gaultier at the MBAM and Maurizio Galante at the MdC Frontenac… And I also find it interesting that in certain situations Mr. Galante gets the credit and in other situations Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli gets the credit…) According to the tag it’s made from candy, cardboard from melon boxes, cut up whiskas (I imagine that they really mean cut up Whiskas boxes) nylon string, cut up water bottles yarn knots all as they put it “assemblés.” All-in-all in the context of an art gallery it makes a pretty compelling argument about how much packaging there is that just goes to waste. Although I kind of have a feeling that it was as compelling of an argument when it was being worn on a Parisian catwalk. Personally I just want to know how much Mr. Galante is charging for Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli’s work (or the flip side, how much she charged him to make it).

"Bolero MMM" from Maurizio Galante 2011 Collection, photo from Faceculture
"Bolero MMM" from Maurizio Galante 2011 Collection, photo from Faceculture

I also find it perplexing that given how important and significant the fibre arts are here in Montreal, between Concordia’s program in fibre, the Musée du costume et du textile du Québec and Diagonale sewing is pretty hot here in town, that Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli’s show hasn’t gotten more notice. Me on the other hand, despite not being able to take pictures am doing my darndest to let people know about Ms. Vermeiren Zucoli’s work.

And oops, before I forget there is one more set of stuff that deserves your attention. Just beside the doorway there’s a display case holding some necklaces and what are called “sculptures.”

Necklaces and Scultpures by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli
Necklaces and Scultpures by Arlette Vermeiren Zucoli

The show is up until the 27th of August, the MdC Frontenac is open Tuesday to Saturday from noon, and is on top of the Frontenac metro station. You have no excuse not to see it.

Robert Lorrain at the Parc des Faubourgs

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Sometimes too much yoga can be a bad thing. Or let me rephrase that slightly; one of yoga’s basic premises is the attainment of tranquility, and tranquil art puts me to sleep. How’s that? Last week, I was riding a bixi along Ontario street and I was stopped dead in my tracks by this at the corner of De Lorimier:

Le jeu by Robert Lorrain
Le jeu by Robert Lorrain

I always have an emotional response when I’m at the corner of De Lorimier and Ontario for two reasons. A) I lived there back in the 1980s and B) Delormier Downs used to be there. But anyhows, pretty much right where our front door used to be was this thing, this object that appeared to me to be some sort of something or other that I couldn’t quite figure out. So I got off my bixi and looked closer. This is where it hit me, “Omigawd!! That’s supposed to be a football game!” And I promptly burst out laughing. Then I slowly looked around and realized that there were easily a dozen more statues scattered throughout Le Parc des Faubourgs (the urban greenspace that currently occupies where I used to live – full disclosure: I know the guy who designed the park). So I got off the bixi and started roaming around.

Didactic Panel for Robert Lorrain Exhibit at Parc des Faubourgs
Didactic Panel for Robert Lorrain Exhibit at Parc des Faubourgs

To my untrained eye it looked like someone had decided to throw a Robert Lorrain fest in eastern Ville-marie. I had no idea who Robert Lorrain was, nor did I have any idea when, how or why his sculptures had been plopped down there. But I figured it was worth a look/see. My mistake, that’s 30 minutes of my life that I can’t get back again. Using some basic Googling skills (read: typing the words “robert” and “lorrain” into Google) I discovered that there had been a Robert Lorrain fest in Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu, last year.

My guess would be that M. Lorrain successfully leveraged that exhibit to get this one. Woe betide whatever city or town that chooses to host the Robert Lorrain fest next year. Now I have no clue who or what would be the person or organization that decided what gets plopped in Parc des Faubourgs, but the Bureau d’art publique de Montreal probably would be as good of a place as any to start. And so I emailed them. As soon as I hear a response, I’ll let you know.

(Edit July 18, 20011, 11h27: The Bureau d’art publique de Montreal replied, and this is the link to follow for the forms that need to be filled out).

But given M. Lorrain’s sculptures, it can’t have been too rigorous of an application. As I wrote at the top, tranquil art puts me to sleep, and that’s me being diplomatic about his work. I would also guess that the city/borough/bureaucracy paid some coin in order to get them installed. If only to pay the salaries of the guys who made sure that they didn’t fall over. But it wouldn’t be a far stretch to get artist’s fees, curator fees, transportation fees, reproduction fees, maintenance fees and you get the picture. Pulling a number out of my hat, I’d say $5,000.

Now this neighborhood desperately needs public art. Eastern Ville-marie, or Les faubourgs, as they like to call it these days (how anyone would confuse it with suburbs is beyond me) has a paucity of thought provoking objects (aka Art) to look at while you walk around. 38 of them (including graffiti murals) in an area that stretches from Berri to Préfontaine, Sherbrooke to the river, roughly 8,000 km2, or less than one every 200 km2. Unfortunately M. Lorrain’s sculptures don’t cut it.

There are some great pieces of public art in the neighborhood, Jardin Punk et Jardin De La Forêt Urbaine, Révolutions and Neuf Couleurs Au Vent to name most of them. But you can never have too much good art and you never ever can have too much good public art. Given how well designed and grandiose the Parc des Faubourgs is (did I mention that I know and like the guy who made it?) to plop some uninspired, badly made and completely unoriginal hunks of bronze and concrete down in the name of the public good is just flat out ridiculous.

But let me explain why I think that they are uninspired, badly made and completely unoriginal hunks of bronze and concrete. Let’s take Laskmi [sic] as an example.

Laskmi by Robert Lorrain
Laskmi by Robert Lorrain

Off the top: A) It really should be spelled Lakshmi (the Hindu goddess of beauty and wealth). And B) Instead of having her hand out as if asking for alms (especially given the circumstances of the sculpture being placed dead smack on axis facing Notre-Dame-de-Guadalupe) the sculpture should instead be giving money (or at least appearing to be giving away money) as Lakshmi is the goddess of wealth. Then once you start looking at the sculpture itself, it is the proverbial case of “my kid could have made that!” M. Lorrain’s technique is extremely simplistic, and very unskilled. And while simple and unskilled can be effective in art brut and naive art when there is a vision and an idea behind the art. Laskmi exhibits none of these qualities. On his website M. Lorrain writes “L’oeuvre est ici puissament inspirée d’une conception qui accentue et idéalise les rondeurs du corps féminin.” Or if you prefer, using Google translate: “The work is powerfully inspired by a design that accentuates the curves and idealizes the female body.” That doesn’t sound like a vision or an idea, it sounds like someone who hasn’t gotten laid in a while.

The patina, or if you prefer, the verdigris looks like she spilled some pickle juice, chartreuse, or crème de menthe all over her right side. Her hands and head are completely out of proportion to the rest of her body. The only animals that I know whose hands go down to their knees are members of the ape family, not Hindu goddesses. There is no expression on her face and her hair looks like some sort of bird landed on her head.

And it isn’t like Laskmi is an anomaly. There are a bunch of other sculptures just as badly executed.

Le dignitaire by Robert Lorrain
Le dignitaire by Robert Lorrain

Le dignitaire, which I would not translate as “the dignitary,” but as “Dignity” without the definite article, as in dignity personified. Mostly due to the preponderance of other sculptures named after and about weighty topics and big ideas, like L’elan, Progrès en mouvement, and Aspiration. Again there is no facial expression, which is something that just confuses the heck out of me. Just a blank face with closed eyes. I have no idea if this is because M. Lorrain cannot do facial expressions, or if he really and truly believes that dignity is the same as boredom is the same as apathy. And I also don’t quite understand the towel. I’m not so certain that waiters, bathroom attendants and masseuses are dignity personified. Yes, they are honorable professions but they aren’t the first jobs I think of when I think of dignity. And then if you notice, down at the bottom of the sculpture, there are two braces sunk in the concrete pedestal holding the base of the sculpture so that it doesn’t fall over backwards.

Detail of Le dignitaire by Robert Lorrain
Detail of Le dignitaire by Robert Lorrain

I could go on, but I trust you get the picture. Now the reason that I keep bringing up the yoga stuff, is that among the results of my googling, I came across an interview with M. Lorrain in the January 2004 edition of Auroville Today which places a whole heck of a lot of emphasis on how he was the “long-time sadhak of Sri Aurobindo’s integral yoga” and how he had a “deep interest in spirituality.” And while it is fine and dandy to express an interest in Hinduism and alternative methods of being spiritual, it does not work as an excuse or a crutch for making bad art. No matter how honorable and deeply held your beliefs are, bad art is and will always be bad art.

Progrès en mouvement by Robert Lorrain
Progrès en mouvement by Robert Lorrain

Speaking of Progrès en mouvement, I gotta admit that of the works in Parc des faubourgs, it is the one that appeals to me the most. But unfortunately for all the wrong reasons. Of the dozen or so works on display it was (at least when I saw them) the only one that had been vandalized. Taken a whack of red paint and sprayed gallons of it on the eyes, and then added something looking like the word “EVIL” along with various inverted crosses and other satanic imagery. By doing that whoever the vandal was added a sense of character to the piece. Now let me put this straight, I’m not condoning vandalism in any way, shape or form. Vandalism is bad, wrong despicable and against the law. But what this particular piece of vandalism highlights is how vapid, bland and unimaginative all the pieces are.

In the exact same way that TVs that are on without sound work like blinders by forcing us to ignore them and end up make us just slightly more inured to things that are happening around us, M. Lorrain’s sculptures enable governments to think that they are doing good by exhibiting art in underprivileged neighborhoods, when in fact all they are doing is making people think that most public art useless and unenlightening.

If you’d like to see more Continue reading Robert Lorrain at the Parc des Faubourgs

Cameron Skene, Anish Kapoor [Zeke’s Alternate Art Conversation]

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Episode 255 [18:35]
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Chris ‘Zeke’ Hand in conversation with Cameron Skene about the Anish Kapoor retrospective at the National Gallery of Modern Art, Delhi.

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Originally published on Zeke’s Alternate Art #%^$#@!

‘Public Art’ in Old Montréal by Jaume Plensa, Fernando Botero, César Baldaccini, Jim Dine, Robert Indiana, & Fernand Léger [Zeke’s Alternate Art Ramble]

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Episode 172 [16:35]
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Chris ‘Zeke’ Hand having a rambling discussion with Liz Pieres about some ‘public art’ on display in Old Montréal until September 2010. Specifically Shadows II by Jaume Plensa, The Volumptuous Man by Fernando Botero, Hommage à Eiffel by César Baldaccini (who also has An Ostrich on Roller Skates on exhibit in Old Montréal), Three Hearts on a Rock by Jim Dine, Love by Robert Indiana and Le tournesol polychrome by Fernand Léger.

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Originally published on Zeke’s Alternate Art #%^$#@!