April 2001 - Nr. 4
Views and Reviews
by Alidë Kohlhaas
There is now a retrospective of his work at the Art Gallery of Ontario until June 25. Called Life & Stuff, the title reflects Curnoe’s preoccupation with the little things around him. These he made into collages, or Dadaist assemblages.
There are about 150 oil paintings, drawings, constructions, collages, and assemblages in this show. In his paintings and watercolours one sees a strong colourist, and sometimes superb draftsman. One enjoys paintings of views from windows in his home, and a well-rendered nude, even his view of the CN Tower. His line drawings, however, leave much to be desired.
Curnoe was an avid cyclist, an obsessive nationalist, and rabidly anti-American. Such things should not influence one when viewing an artist’s work. Curnoe, however, integrated all three into his pieces. He revealed his love of cycling in drawings and paintings. His other two personality quirks are shown in paintings that consist solely of words or sentences in large stencilled letters. On other works he added messages or lists of words.
Despite his regionalism and nationalism, his work lacks a specific Canadian identity. It could have been created by an artist anywhere. Yes, his Dadaist pieces sometimes identified his space, but, so what?
As for his anti-American stance, and seemingly pro-Soviet leanings, they speak of naiveté and lack of real experience abroad other than through short visits that appear to have failed to broaden his horizon. He formed the Nihilist Party, yet negated its philosophy by collecting objects, and by celebrating the concrete, the specific in his life. He taught his son disrespect for authority, yet held authority as a teacher. His Nihilist Spasm Band thrived on jazz, the one art form that is truly American. He appeared to snub the world, yet his writings show that he had craved its attention and its lack disappointed him. Such contradictions show in his work, and so, sadly deflect from what he could have been, but never was.
For centuries visitors to Paris have strolled along its wide boulevards, sat in its outdoor cafés, roamed through Montmartre, and enjoyed its cathedrals and museums. They walked along the Seine, over and under its more than 30 bridges, the oldest of which is called Pont Neuf. They viewed it as romantic, or as too crowded, they admired its architecture, and felt either enchanted or appalled by its crumbling old buildings, its narrow and filthy streets, its noise and smells. Whatever Paris means to people, it leaves an impression that cannot be erased. It has seen many changes, yet in some ways, it has remained the same.
One man set out to record the changes within the city in a remarkable way. He was Eugène Atget. From 1898 until his death in 1927, he photographed Paris as no one else has done since. He made around 5,000 negatives of Paris, his "photographic documents".
Now 181 of his photos can be seen at the Art Gallery of Ontario until May 27 in an exhibit organized by the Musée Carnavalet of Paris in 1999. It then moved to the Museum of the City of New York, and thence here. These Atget photos show that though many areas have changed since his time, the city’s essence remains.
All
our work experiences are different. There must have been moments, however,
for members of the audience in Norm Foster’s comedy, Office Hours, when
these took on a personal note. Most of us have met someone who made it up
the ladder through connections rather than merit; we have seen older
individuals suddenly made irrelevant; who has not heard of someone in the
office, who has cheated on a mate, etc. etc. Such things in real life may
not be funny, but through Foster’s pen they take on a comic hue, and we
smile, or even laugh outright at them.
There are six scenes in this play. Each one is in a different office, all taking place on the same Friday afternoon, and each one is strangely connected to the next one. Finally, there is a surprise ending that ties everything together. Foster calls each scene a "little play", and director Max Reimer certainly treated each as such, which added greatly to the enjoyment of the overall production.
It isn’t easy to have to play completely different roles from one scene to the next, often even changing shape and age. The six cast members all executed this task with great aplomb.
The audience is taken on a journey from a television station’s producer’s office, to that of a film producer. From there the scene shifts to the office of an agent, then to that a young entertainment lawyer. Suddenly the play veers off in a different direction to the office at a race track, and ends up in that of a harried psychiatrist. Through all of them runs a thread that connects these offices and their inhabitants, and, as mentioned above, that thread is tied nicely into an unexpected bow in the final moments of the play. Office Hours runs until April 7, 2001 at the Irving Zucker Theatre in the du Maurier Centre in Hamilton.
If
you crave spring, that reluctant season that doesn’t want to come this
year, here is an antidote to the lack of colour around us. Go and read
"Hummingbirds", a book by Nancy Newfield. This table book is not
only impressive for its size (roughly 10 ½" by 11 ½"), but for
its wonderful photographs of these tiny, exotic birds that are only to be
found in the western hemisphere, and for Newfield’s fine text. The book
can be called a harbinger of spring. It is full of information about these
unusual birds, the only ones that can fly backwards and even up-side-down.[Hummingbird
by Nancy Newfield, Key Porter, 143 pages, hardcover, $29.95]
Comments to: alide@echoworld.com
