Detour

7 November 2020 – I’d planned to stick with West 4th, all the way to Cambie, but roadworks force a detour. I angle through a parking lot just past Manitoba St., to catch the nearest alley.

First glimpse of the alley, and I think: “This could be fun.”

Turns out that guy isn’t pointing at Grecian Goddess there on the wall: he’s concerned about a stack of boxes inside the doorway beside her, and wants his buddy’s opinion.

I hit the alley and stand stock-still, mesmerized by all that it offers.

Finger-Pointing Guy asks, with kind concern, “Are you okay?” I reassure him. “I’m just stunned by all this art.” He blinks at me. Art???

Yes, art. Look.

If the style of those writhing creatures seems familiar …

perhaps you’re remembering the wolf sculpture by Paige Bowman (‘birdfingersss”) I celebrated in my Animal Flow post. This is also her work..

Human being to the left is suitably horrified.

Soothing waves just a bit farther west …

and a musical pirate opposite. (A lute-loving pirate! Not to be confused with any loot-loving pirate you may happen to know.)

Beyond the pirate, a dead ringer (or so I think) for Sammy Davis Jr., flying from one adventure to the next, the length of this entire mural …

from his first brave leap, upper left …

through repeated moments of great concentration …

to a confrontation with some Force of Evil, upper right.

Swivel head back across the alley, and … change of pace.

Something Escher might do, were he alive now and more fascinated by tubing than by fish and birds.

A few more steps (a few more paces, ho ho), and … change of pace.

I hit Columbia St., the next intersection, and look back with appreciation. Lots of surprises, in amidst all that scruffiness.

I decide to stick with the alley for one more block, but expect nothing more from it. After all, how do you top technicolour LOVE?

You write an erudite pun in neat blue letters on a white wall, is how.

Clever, but — I am happy to report — without any evidence, either visible or olfactory, to back the claim.

Animal Flow

9 August 2020 – That’s where it starts. Sheer visual reference.

I see Paige Bowman’s canine prowling a street corner opposite Jonathan Rogers Park.

It flips my mind back to Brian Jungen’s whale, which I saw last week at the VAG (Vancouver Art Gallery) …

and farther back than that, back to 2013, when Ai Weiwei’s snake coiled across the ceiling at the AGO.

Three works, connected by subject matter — an animal — but, above all, by flow.

Flow. The sheer pulsing energy that the artist has infused into each element of each creature.

The rib cage & attendant structures …

the head …

the vertebrae.

But the flow transcends physical form, as I realize when I look up Paige Bowman and re-acquaint myself with these specific works by Brian Jungen and Ai Weiwei.

The works, like the artists, also flow across identity, voice, appropriation and meaning.

Paige Bowman is a Vancouver illustrator who self-identifies as “human dog,” chooses the pronoun references of “they/them,” and — like the art they create, lives “on the unceded territory of the musqueam, squamish and tseil-watuth, or so called vancouver.”

Brian Jungen, born in northern BC of Swiss/ Dane-Zaa heritage, has built up a rich body of work in which he repurposes running shoes, golf bags, hockey masks, car fenders and plastic chairs into representations of indigenous masks and war bonnets, furniture, and ┬áliving creatures. Cetology, shown here, a complete whale skeleton created from patio chairs, is owned by the VAG and was on loan last year to the AGO for its 2019 retrospective of Jungen’s work, “Friendship Centre.” Jungen has cheerfully pointed out how suitable it is that he appropriate sports equipment for his sculptures, given how freely sports organizations have appropriated native terminology for team names. (A practice that now appears to be in sharp reversal, at least here in North America.)

In Snake Ceiling, Ai Weiwei uses a favourite Jungen material, backpacks, to give voice to those literally buried by the 2008 Sichuan earthquake and buried again by Chinese official silence about the disaster. Some 5,000 of the est. 90,000 victims were schoolchildren, killed when their shoddy schools collapsed around them. Each segment of that snake is a child’s backpack: as an AGO volunteer at the time, I watched visiting schoolchildren listen to the story, their faces changing from polite semi-attention to focused shock and empathy. Every element of that exhibition (“Ai Weiwei: According to What?”) flowed across the boundaries of its material; told stories; pulsed its connection with a viewer willing to flow with it, and connect.

Shape-shifting works, shape-shifting concepts, in our shape-shifting times.

 

 

 

 

  • WALKING… & SEEING

    "Traveller, there is no path. Paths are made by walking" -- Antonio Machado (1875-1939)

    "The voyage of discovery is not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes" -- Marcel Proust (1871-1922)

    "A city is a language, a repository of possibilities, and walking is the act of speaking that language, of selecting from those possibilities" -- Rebecca Solnit, "Wanderlust: A History of Walking"

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