Toronto's artistic renaissance

Year exemplifed by Degas and Beatrix Potter exhibitions as well as alternative fare

This year's wave of art shows swelled to full capacity and could not be caught up with. It felt as though going to art openings and viewing the entire wealth of visual lushness the city had to offer could be a virtual full-time job, a job I had claimed for myself, but was never quite able to fulfill. The shows I managed to see almost always blew me away. Is it the fact of implicit hopefulness present in the act of creating and displaying art in such futile times that inspired me? Or was it those few brief months of abstinence from the art world that made going back all the more intoxicating, such that even Beatrix Potter's minor sketches alongside letters worked like little lasers along my skin?
I confess that among my personal favourite exhibitions this year was the ROM's Beatrix Potter exhibit. Though more historical than artistic per se, Potter's worn clogs juxtaposed with her devotion to lettuce frills and water-coloured carrot bunches proved thrilling for an old fan. Also on the traditional bent of curatorial choice was the Degas exhibit at the AGO. Sure, the final stages of bronze may not have been even touched by Degas, but the controversy which arose out of this exhibit raised interesting questions about art, authenticity, and the buyer. As well, Degas' perfection in roughness pushed and pulled the body in fresh positions that remade clay into the animate medium it was destined to be.
And speaking of the body, Casey McGlynn's Not Real at the Katherine Mulherin Gallery took the case of cut-outs to a new level, telling humiliating slash compulsively fascinating stories of his sexual history in comic book fashion, but with wood. His simultaneous plays on pop, memory, and nostalgia turn the viewer into a child who must view his own history frame by frame.
The Joseph D. Carrier Gallery's Connections exhibit also challenged preconceptions of the body by making space for artists with supposed physical disabilities. This juried show of paintings and sculptures pried open the limit of the 'dis' and showcased only ability and vision on themes of desire.
As for my absolute favourite shows, I have to mention the Power Plant's Stretch exhibit of international contemporary minimalist work. Here, Roni Horn's translucent glass blocks, Fernando Arias' coffin constructed from Lego pieces, Oscar Munoz's round steel mirrors and Iran do Esp'rito Santo's sheets of glass leaning against the wall all give disparate clues to an on-going narrative of urbanity. In this show, materials were pressed to their limit and part of the puzzle was the 'how' of the exhibition. The pieces were mostly glossy and prosthetic, and begged for touch, as if your hand could melt through ala Alice in Wonderland.
Another favourite exhibition at the Power Plant was Ask the Dust, a show of drawings by Canada's infamous Royal Art Lodge. Collaging, drawing, and painting the Art Lodge renders simplicity in complexity in a quirkiness that makes them immediately endearing. Seemingly personal, there is an inside-joke/love letter quality to their work that triggers one's endorphins and makes you want to write back in response.
However, at the top of my list is an unapologetically highly personal first choice, because I shamelessly love his work - Canadian art star painter Graham Gilmore, represented by the Monte Clarke Gallery in the Distillery District. Gilmore's play with language spews across the canvas, so you can barely read his messages, such as "I love you, in theory" and "you really know how to kill a moment".
Gilmore's work alone makes Toronto a brilliant city to live in. But a walk along the newly named (officially according to the street signs) art and design district, Queen Street West's prolific art scene reveals that Toronto is only at the beginning stages of a full-on aesthetic renaissance.

Publication Date: 2004-01-11
Story Location: http://tandemnews.com/viewstory.php?storyid=3517