Posts by Christine Frost
Last Look: Context is Everything by Monique Martin
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Monique Martin’s expansive public art exhibit Context is Everything closes on November 10. Since October 1, paper dandelions and their images set root in familiar spaces in Downtown Edmonton, bringing with them light, colour and a message of hope. Monique Martin’s print series Critical Pieces will remain on display in the Alley of Light Art Boxes into the new year. 

 

In preparing this exhibit, we reflected on the rich symbolism of the dandelion. Dandelions are complex symbols for growth and resilience. They are non-native to these territories and non-invasive; supposedly noxious, yet edible and medicinal. Context is Everything cultivates the categorical and symbolic ambivalence between wildflowers and weeds, while honouring the complex materiality of a plant with stories and propagations of its own. When context is everything, what can the dandelion mean to you? 

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Keep the dandelion in mind this winter with these readings on dandelions, Invasive Species and Growing in Harsh Ground:

Nicholas Reo, “'Every plant and animal is useful to us': Indigenous professor re-thinking how we deal with invasive species,” interview by Rosanna Deerchild, Unreserved, CBC Radio, April 20, 2018. https://bit.ly/3kSFfE8

Caitlin Berrigan, “Life Cycle of a Common Weed,” 2012, in The Multispecies Salon, ed. Eben Kirksey (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2014), 154-180. https://www.multispecies-salon.org/berrigan/

Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing, “Blasted Landscapes (and the Gentle Arts of Mushroom Picking),” in The Multispecies Salon, ed. Eben Kirksey (Durham and London: Duke University Press, 2014), 87-109. https://www.multispecies-salon.org/tsing/

Nicholas Reo, Kyle Whyte, Darren Ranco, Jodi Brandt, Emily Blackmer, and Braden Elliott, “Invasive Species, Indigenous Stewards, and Vulnerability Discourse,” American Indian Quarterly 41, no. 3 (2017), 201–23. doi:10.5250/amerindiquar.41.3.0201. https://cpb-us-e1.wpmucdn.com/sites.dartmouth.edu/dist/9/52/files/2012/10/Reo_etal_AIQ_invasive_species_2017.pdf

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Christine Frost Comments
Dyscorpia
Detail of  “Solastalgia”, Brad Necyk and Dan Harvey, 2019

Detail of “Solastalgia”, Brad Necyk and Dan Harvey, 2019

By: Alfred Muszynski, Production Assisstant.

The fascinating thing about digitization of the body is that you will not notice it on your physical self. The discovery of the digital body is a bit like discovering yourself as the host of your own doppelgänger. And after seeing the Dyscorpia exhibit at the Enterprise Square Gallery, you might have the feeling this “Body 2.0” is, at last, trying to shed it’s skin with disregard for it’s biological home. 

One of the great achievement of this exhibit is giving you the feeling that you are meeting on equal grounds with technology. The reason for this reconciliation is that this meeting occurs inside and on your very familiar and somewhat predictable body. In Brad Neck and Dan Harvey’s “Solastalgia” you find yourself surrounded by screens of deformed natural landscape and you can easily imagine that if your digital identity was to look for a natural haven, this could be it. An overwhelming nature which still manages to leave space for rest and control. A text reads: “Solastagia names the melancholy experienced when home itself becomes new and uncanny” and upon reading it I realized that maybe it was about time, we welcomed our body into the digital home we denied it access to. 

The mind has been an overpowering presence in our consumption of virtual space and any introduction of the body into it feels clumsy and unpractical. But when you enter the A-Life team’s project “Human in the Loop” you can see your body transferring to digital space in a way that is simple, intuitive but meaningful nonetheless. Your presence is captured by visual captor to then be projected in front of you where it is consumed by many geometric creatures powered by a constantly learning artificial intelligence. While it might not be physically interacted with, your body is accounted for and stimulated. It’s presence or absence has a significance. What I thoroughly enjoy about this project is that it does not consider the body as a mere support for a VR headset that might feel to some like an unnatural extension. It is a fluid transfer of a presence which then acts productively in the digital world by being a learning tool for AI. 

The second great aspect of this piece is that it answers an other great issue of virtuality which is the lack of digital literacy. It does so by presenting in detail the code behind the installation for all to see and learn from. 

I could go on about the many projects that have captivated me in Dyscorpia but my personal take away is that most of these projects have given my lonely digital body a sense of home and vulnerability which is lacking in the current cyberspace. My body has found common ground with immateriality and I believe that for the time of my visit my digital alter ego has shed it’s old skin and found itself a place to rest for a while.

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About the author: Born in New York in 1998, Alfred Muszynski is an interdisciplinary artist working in new medias,performance and painting. He lives and works in Montreal and is now working towards a BFA at Concordia University. His work acts as a contemplative experience of virtuality, evolution and spatialdimensions. His process is also heavily inspired by the theory of the independent cyberspace popularized by John Perry Barlow. He has exhibited at Quebec’s intercollegiate of visual arts for two consecutive years and has participated in multiple student exhibitions such as Metamorphosis, held at Espace Cercle Carré, Montreal which allowed him to be featured in an online publication on LaPresse. 

The Work Behind the Walls

By: Claire MacMahon, Production Assistant.

Drawn In, Stephanie Medford, 2019

Drawn In, Stephanie Medford, 2019

Before coming to work with The Works as a production intern, I can’t say I ever thought about the logistics of making a festival tent into a professional art gallery, but accomplishing this task is one of the most important parts of festival set up and take down. Luckily for my fellow interns and I, there were years of interns before us who figured out the logistics. We just had to learn them. So, here is what you need and how it works:

What you will need and how it works!

1) The walls

When lining a 20 by 20 ft tent with portable walls, one of the most important tools is teamwork. The walls each weigh over 150lbs so lifting them into place is impossible to accomplish on one’s own. Through teamwork, with some people in front, some behind and some even on ladders, we accomplished our task. This is when I realized how much of a team the production interns had really become. It was incredible to go from hardly knowing each other and ever imagining putting up a wall, to feeling comfortable putting them up as a cohesive team.

2) Paint tape and lots of Magic Erasers

Once the walls are up, the next step is a lot of fine tuning. When one thinks of a professional art gallery, pristine white walls usually come to mind. There are few tricks and tools we use to get as close to this as possible. The first is tape. Our walls are only four feet long, so we are left with a lot of seams to distract from the art. A quick solution is to cover them with white tape. Add a little paint on top and it could almost be part of the wall. Finally, when it comes to getting that pristine art gallery look, a box full of Magic Erasers can take the walls from looking worn and old to art ready.

3) Clip lights and a web of extension cords

When working outdoors, lighting can be unpredictable. On a nice sunny day the art may be very well lit, but when the clouds blow in, it is a very different story. Clip lights can help. Clip lights give us the ability to clamp them to the cables at the top of the tent, but there is only one plugin per tent. Extension cords are very useful and through the magic of a lot of winding and tucking of cords, we now have our gallery lit with minimal exposed cords.

One of our cleanest and most pristine galleries holds Stephanie Medford’s piece Drawn In, not because you can see all the details and hard work that I mentioned above, but because you can’t. It is beautifully lit with clean white walls, which if done right doesn’t draw your attention, but instead focuses it on the art. It is very rewarding to create an atmosphere where people can appreciate great artists and the art that we have within the gallery walls.

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About the author: Claire MacMahon is a mixed media artist who primarily works in sculpture. She is entering into her third year at Alberta University of the Arts in Calgary, where she has started exploring medias such as glass blowing and metal work. Recently Claire has been mixing new medias such as video and projection with traditional mediums like glass blowing and ceramics to create immersive environments within her work. Another passion of Claire’s that has started to bleed into her art is researching sea life and aquatic plants: she has incorporated this into her ceramic work. 

Festival Survival Guide for Production interns

By: Callum McKenzie, Production Assistant.

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Working for The Works is a lot of work. Especially in the week and half leading up to festival. You learn a lot about things you weren’t expecting to learn a lot about. Like wood, screws, prerequisites for Instagram swipe links and Verified status, and office acronyms. Problem solving becomes second nature to you, or you at least learn how to hum and haw in ways that inspire others in their problem solving. Production interns are instrumental in preparing for, setting up, and running a free art festival. You contribute to an awesome experience for so many people, but the week leading up to festival feels less than awesome. There are many things you learn through experience, in-class sessions and conversations with your peers. However, there are some things you can not truly grasp until you experience them. The pre-festival scramble is a great indicator of things you did not know that you did not know, or that you did not know how best to prepare for. So, I have put together a list of a three key festival survival tips to help you prepare:

1. Whether it’s rain or shine, prepare for the weather.

Who knew just how blinding white paint is when it’s reflecting full sun? You did not until you were squinting your way through a paint-job on a FTP (I still don’t fully know what that stands for, but I know it’s a wall…). Painting white walls or plinths or other miscellaneous objects in the glaring sun is a lot less painful with sunglasses and sunscreen. Sunscreen is vital, so you don’t get crispy fried working outside in the sun for most of the day… and you are outside a lot.

Rain can also be a pain, but for other reasons. It makes you cold and damp if you’re not dressed for it. There is a significant difference between water resistant and water proof. I hope you don’t learn this the hard way. Having a good rain jacket on hand is very useful, but also grab a few extra layers for underneath. Maybe some water repellant pants while you’re at it. You never know when you’ll be lying beneath an uncovered stair case in the pouring rain to secure the lower steps.

2. Tell your friends, family and even your dog that you might not be able to reliably be there for them.

Everyone in at the Works gets in a lot of overtime leading up to and during the festival. Some projects take a lot longer than anticipated or complications arise, so you need to be prepared to stick around and help your team. It’s inevitable that this overtime gets in the way of your social life and that’s okay. Be aware that you might have to cancel or postpone plans so just keep the people in your life updated. Tell your mom you’ll be late for dinner, tell your friends you might need to hang out another day, tell your pet that you value and love them unconditionally but they might have to eat a little later in the evening.

3. Take care of yourself.

You are a human being and you have basic needs. Fulfill them. Eat enough food, drink enough water, get enough sleep. It’s easier said than done, but making sure you’re well rested and energized makes the long work days so much easier to get through. Bring snacks to fend off the hunger and stabilize your energy levels but try to avoid snacks that are high in sugar so your energy doesn’t crash an hour after eating them. If you have the capacity to do so, bring some snacks to share with your team. You’ll help them stay functioning and you’ll all be happy together.

Those were just a few tips that are useful and applicable to every festival since the specific festival requirements change every year. They’re mostly common sense, but sometimes stress makes common sense less common. In those kind of stressful situations, little reminders can be useful.

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About the author: Callum McKenzie is a visual communication design and printmaking student at the University of Alberta. He has shown work at various galleries and exhibitions including the Change Climate exhibition and a group show at Coral Plaza in his hometown of Edmonton. Callum explores the intersections of masculinity, queerness and emotional expression through his print work. He hopes to highlight alternative and healthy forms of masculinity. In addition to design and printmaking, Callum practices his drawing skills and obsesses over paper. He combines his passions in the practice of bookbinding. To see some of his work, check out his Instagram profile, @humdrum_and_callum.

Stand and Deliver: Stacey Cann and the Art of Labour

By: Brittany Gergel, Curatorial Coordinator.

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Image: Scrub, by Stacey Cann. 

A figure in a red, polka-dotted dress emerges from the wings of The Works Art & Design Festival’s Capital Plaza. She carries a mop bucket and tucks a duster against the small of her back. Her heeled loafers tap delicately against the tiled ground. A pause. The figure falls to her knees. She removes a sponge from her bucket and scrubs the well-traversed tile before her. Without fanfare, Deliver has begun.

Stacey Cann’s durational performance explores the gendered expectations of labour. Through publicly enacting the gestures of domestic labour⁠—coordinating tasks, organizing and cleaning up after⁠—Cann bears and amplifies the weight of these gestures. Her body tenses with each scrubbing and dusting motion. Sweat beads on her brow, no doubt exacerbated by her gendered polyester garb. She is all at once exaggeratedly deliberate and skillfully subtle.

In the tradition of the performance of domestic labour (Mierle Laderman Ukeles’ Maintainance Art comes to mind), a compelling aspect of Deliver is the artistic treatment Cann gives the unfairly prescribed yet necessary. Cann’s labour-come-art is both hyper-visible and invisible. Her dress and loafers are a legible caricature of the mid-century American housewife, transplanted into a 2019 public. More telling, however, is how easily Cann and her aestheticized labour blend into her environment. The tidying, clearing and washing enacted by Cann are absurdly ordinary, and subsumed by the action of the Downtown festival. Besides the adjacent display of a handwritten chore chart and a tongue-in-cheek sign reading ‘men at work,’ the gestures associated with Deliver are easily naturalized as “just someone cleaning up”⁠—a terrifying appraisal that wherever you are, a woman in uniform is likely tidying up after those around her.

Please pay Stacey Cann and the labouring women around you diligence for what they deliver. And make sure your Food Street refuse ends up in a trash can.

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About the author: Brittany Gergel is currently completing a BA Honours in the History of Art, Design and Visual Culture at the University of Alberta. She participated in the Faculty of Art & Design’s 2018 collaboration project “Anthropocities,” publishing art interpretation in the project’s peer-reviewed catalogue and for display at the IPCC’s Cities and Climate Change Conference. She received the Faculty’s Margret Andrekson Scholarship in Art History in 2018 for superior academic achievement. In 2019, she completed an honours thesis, “Obstetrical Authority in an Atlas with Flaps.” Her areas of focus are Anthropocene ethics and the history of medicine as they intersect with visual and material culture.