On Sunday we went to the AGA - the Art Gallery of Alberta. It has been called the "
Eyesore of the Month" by James Howard Kunstler, the same man who discredits Wal-Marts as "places not worth caring about." Now, I completely agree that Wal-Marts and the insidious box-store tumours that grow on the edges (and centre!) of cities are ugly, and take up waaaaay too much flat space. I, for one, don't care about them at all. Frankly, I avoid them.
But, I do adore the
AGA. It's such an intriguing structure on the outside, and the best part is that it flows inside and out with the metal 'wave' intersecting with glass and the metal frame. The exhibits this weekend were astonishing too. Walter Philips, Emily Carr, a collection of traditional and modern Haida folk pieces and art, Lawren Harris, Sarah Fuller (a photo collection, "bubble"diorama of her experience of Banff), and the 3rd floor feature: Andy Warhol - Manufactured.
At the start I wanted to just go in, sans technology (phone, notepad, music, etc), and view the artwork. y'know just it and me, questioning each other. But, that lasted no more than 20-30 minutes, after the first exhibit -Lawren Harris -began to raise questions of my own practice of art (haphazard, random, and rarely completed for lack of "form"... I had to start writing these thoughts down. So, in the second exhibit - Walter Phillips, I had to bring out my phone with it's handy dandy notepad feature.
The first thing that I felt compelled to write down - was the name and information recorded on a tiny machine in the corner of this gallery. It is a device called a hydrothermograph. It measures humidity and temperature within the room, and ultimately allows the gallery staff to preserve the collection on display. I was intrigued by the name (so close to the weather gathering instruments I was exposed to in a class in 2nd year) and for an upcoming class next semester - Museum Studies. If nothing else, I can pointless harbour the knowledge of what this thing is called, and that it measured 19 degrees Celcius and ~50% RH in the room that day. I assume that's on par with the average and/or required for most museums, so I'll test that assumption in class someday if it comes up.
Anyways, the more interesting things of the day was definitely the rest of Phillips' exhibit - he was influenced by various members of the Group of Seven in Western Canada, after moving from England mid-life, and later on picked up wood-block printing techniques characteristic of the Japanese. The collection was extensive and showed his progression and fallback to favorite techniques. Overall he enjoyed watercolour, and the intricate depth and detail produced by wood-block printing. His focus subject was landscapes, but only those which had been modified by humans. It was the human influence - such as a dock on the beach, boats on the water, or people at settlements or travelling which he focused on. Even what seemed to be a study of a patch of trees drew attention to the emptiness in the foreground - perhaps where some trees had been previously removed. At a certain midpoint in Phillips' career he experimented with mixing old and new techniques. The result: images of vacationers on Banff slopes, and white men conversing with Natives. In both scenarios the wood cut print and the certain contrast of water colour and sharp black outline identified these as "cartoony" in my mind. Perhaps it was because of the touristy nature of both images... ? The caricature of tourism in a natural landscape was of particular interest to me as a geographer...as well as his entire commentary of ensuring the importance of human
place-making ...Which is maybe why I enjoyed the exhibit so much.
Later, Sarah Fuller's
My Banff (a collection of photo portraits of friends she met while living in Banff for a decade, as well as a "bubble" diorama to put the individuals in context to her life) explored the reality of the touristy reality of Banff in a modern context. A quote from her information booklet tethered to the wall in the gallery reads
"the Local is defined by its unfamiliar counterparts. A peculiar tension exists between around here and out there... So many of us have arrived recently in the places we call home."
I found this such a pertinent quote - because it can be for the strangest reasons that we come to call a particular place home. That reason might be a re-location for a job, a temporary move for school, a friend's family who takes you in as their own child, or perhaps, just one place at the right time - exactly when you needed what it had to offer. The trickiest part is that it's
always different for everyone. And that's why this exhibit was awesome, in my opinion. Sarah expressed to the viewing audience why she saw Banff as her home, and included all the reasons why. Usually those reasons were the people AND the way they experienced the town and landscape together.
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I don't have too much to say about Emily Carr and Haida - though they deserve huge volumes of praise and critique - other than it was a moment of relaxation for me to view her art and the Haida folk art. I have a few lingering questions about Haida spirituality, shamans, and their reliance on animals (as many Native groups also hold)...And I completely respect Carr's style. I felt like I was literally lost in her West Coast forest of swirling green and the rich brown-red of the redwoods. She is a fascinating artist, making great strides in the Group of Seven - and I learned of her interest in Theosophy [a combination of Western Philosophy and Eastern mysticism]. I can see how she would be drawn to the totem poles and spiritual myths of the West Coast with that direction of interest...
Lawren Harris was the feature of a small introductory exhibit; he worked in the early 20th century and reminded me of Kandinsky for all the reliance he had on geometric shapes. Some of the sketches were too abstract to really understand on their own, but the 5 or so large colour paintings added a lot of OOMPH. Some were mimics of landscapes, while others were oscillating colour - representing thought patterns. That's where I really enjoyed the abstractness of it. I'd never heard of or seen Harris' work before - and his perspective and attention to line detail and colour play was just awesome!
Last but not least was the Warhol: Manufactured exhibit. The entire 3rd floor (and part of the 4th) was used for the collection of Warhol's progression into his famous silkscreen print making technique. One of the most stunning was a 10'x10' (or more) seemingly "unfinished" canvas of a typewriter painting. There was about 2/3 of the body of the typewriter filled in and detailed with black, the rest of the penciled in outline left untouched... I found it funny that even Warhol couldn't finish a Warhol (he found the painting in of the penciled in image too tedious - and too personal). [as an art student in high school I completed an acrylic copy of Warhol's Beethoven and was driven to insanity because of it. But, I suppose had I been true to
his technique I wouldn't have been so frustrated I'm sure...]
The one thing which was emphasized in the exhibit was how much Warhol enjoyed machinery, and he desired to be a machine himself. This was why he used mechanical painting techniques (ink blots early on, silk screen presses later), and pursued a career as an artist for advertisements. He loved advertising and logos for their simplicity. He enjoyed celebrities because they became idyllic to the public -
just a face, repeated over and over again. Some may misjudge his fascination with consumer culture as a criticism of it in Post-War America, yet it was exactly the opposite. He celebrated it. He represented it - he demanded people not try to look "deeper" into him, his wigs, plastic-expressions, and facsimile style art was purposefully meant to remove himself from his person - the creation of a mechanical being.
The
coolest part of the Warhol exhibit was on the 4th floor, with 20 or so
silvery
crinkly
Jiffy-Pop style
floating/hovering
rectangular
"clouds".
They honestly just lingered in the air, due to whatever gas was in them.
If you stood and looked up at them slowly moving around you your body felt weightless after a while.
I'm guessing it was some body-mind experiment Warhol enjoyed or toyed with.
So. cool. I poked and prodded at a few.Spun them around. Jumped to try to catch them. I could imagine it would be so wonderful to draw or write in a room of those. :)
It was a lovely day at the gallery - I bought ROBOT stickers, and a book on Pop Art at the gift store. Plus, a can of Campbell's soup for the Edmonton food drive. Of course, right? :P
I just love art. <3
The AGA is
definitely a place worth caring about, Mr. Kunstler.
Peace.
-Jude
