Monday, August 22, 2011

RIP Jack Layton

Hallowe'en costume, 2008. Photo refurbished in honour of Jack Layton,
former leader of the New Democratic Party of Canada whose lengthy
battle with cancer came to an end August 22nd, 2011.
 



Sunday, July 31, 2011

KOTV extended cut with Snuff Crew remix of "Still On About Keith Cole"




Here's an extended cut of the footage we shot with KOTV last month. Feat. Snuff Crew's mix of "Still On About Keith Cole".

Monday, July 11, 2011

To What Earth Does This Sweet Cold Belong? Review in Magenta Magazine

Just reviewed the most recent group show at the Power Plant Gallery in Toronto, To What Earth Does This Sweet Cold Belong? featuring artists Andrea Carlson, Annie MacDonell, Erin Sheriff, Jennifer Rose Sciarrino, and Kevin Schmidt.

"Powerful, desolate, and largely uninhabited, a lot of the landscape remains a question mark to the majority of Canadians and Americans, except in art, photography and film. In images portraying the more remote areas of our Continent, we’re typically subjected to either painting that had its day during the turn of the last century, or shocked by the magnitude of our impact on the environment north of the 60th parallel as seen on Planet Earth or The Nature of Things.


The five artists in the show To What Earth Does This Sweet Cold Belong - three Canadians and two Americans - take the North American landscape and use it to develop vastly different conceptual pieces. Kevin Schmidt’s ongoing landscape-based video and photography work takes us to a tree trunk painted to look weak, as though it had been hollowed out to serve as a view-finder for the landscape beyond..."
Read the full review here.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011

Vazaleen Teaser Filmed with KOTV!



To donate to the charity: Queer and Trans People Living With Cancer started in Will's name - Go to the www.the519.org website and scroll down to the link at the bottom of the page. Indicate in the message portion that the donation is for Will's fund.





Street Furniture: Attack of the Charette

Originally published on EyeWeekly.com
Street Furniture: Attack of the Charette

Analyzing the aesthetic rationale at the street-furniture exhibition in Toronto City Hall yesterday was trying at best. This was especially true when I took a Mayor Miller quote into account that these new street furniture structures were meant to, “improve… elevate and celebrate Toronto’s urban beauty.”

For Jonathan Goldsbie of the Toronto Public Space Committee, Miller’s statement falls terrible short of the bike post: “For the most part, [all of the designs here] simply have no interest in the viewing pleasure for the public.”

This design charette included proposals from Astral Media, Clear Channel and CBS, but only one company will be given the contract to build. Although the victim of our design conclusions is often the dreaded advertisement, Neal Panchuk of the Zeidler Design Team for Clear Channel pointed out, “How else are you going to pay for them?”

Good point, but that simply points to a lack of municipal funding, which is really at the heart of the city’s need to contract externally in the first place. Panchuk, a resident of the city, aptly defended his team’s design pointing out various niceties that he, as a resident, would like to see on our streets.

“Public bathrooms in parks, proper poster boards, more flower planters… All of these things are good for a city to maintain, and that’s what we’re hoping will happen with our Clear Channel proposal.”

And what of other details the public might benefit from, say, above street level? Designing street lamps to reduce light pollution always seems like an overlooked idea, and they currently aren’t on any company’s agenda. Only one mock-up (Astral) includes thin, sleek lamps that look as though they were an afterthought.


Image courtesy of the Torontoist.com
This is perhaps less of a concern as opposed to bus stops and on-street advertising, but last time I checked, lamps were still integral to any city space. And yes, they count as furniture.

When I mentioned their inclusion in the Astral models, Panchuk explained, “We haven’t put them in there because it wasn’t part of the [city’s] initial request. Besides, there’s only so much you can design before the quality becomes compromised.”

At what point does that quality become compromised? Apparently, it’s when at which the design team is awarded the contract and city starts making their real demands.

“This is only a fraction of the many things we could do with streets and sidewalks,” explained Panchuk. There are apparently many things on the table post-win that the public won’t get or comment upon until the designs actually hit our streets.

This charette is simply meant to give examples of a much larger beast, and smaller details like lamps and bicycle posts are left biting the dust, one might conclude, because they’re just too small to slap ads anywhere on their surfaces. And while I’d like to retain some optimism for more fresh ideas come construction time, my doubts still remain.



Sol Lewitt 1928 - 2007

Image courtesy of MOMA.
Originally posted at EyeWeekly.com
Art: Sol LeWitt 1928-2007
Carolyn Tripp
2007

The American-born artist Sol LeWitt, 78, died due to cancer-related complications on April 8.

One of the true pioneers of The Geometric, LeWitt enjoyed an impressive career that was born out of 1960s Minimalism and spanned the next four decades. His transitions from one medium to the next were seamless, including his endeavors in sculpture, photography, and his much-lauded painting installations.
Out of his work in the Toronto area, one such piece that falls into the painted category is LeWitt’s project at Pearson International Airport. The work entitled, “Wall Drawing #1100, Concentric Band” has lines shaped into a pattern bend into the shape of an airport skylight, poised above one of the incoming gates.
Much of his work was just as site-specific, including his more recent showings at the Art Gallery of Ontario, who exhibited his work at Swing Space and in the Shape of Colour exhibition.
Considering LeWitt’s considerable stature, it’s curious to consider that the artist also remained press-shy. Curator David Moos of the AGO agrees: “He never did public lectures, and was never a rabid self-promoter.”
Rather, Moos — who worked with the artist on a number of occasions — insists that the work is of such a caliber that there was little need for excess promotion.
Moos explains that this is also part and parcel of LeWitt’s strong artistic philosophy. “So many artists have to be out there, selling their work, networking, being generally social, but [LeWitt] never operated that way.
“1960s Minimalism was a launch-pad from which LeWitt developed his work, but he was also one of the most popular artists who effectively removed his work from his own personality and persona. As much as his work is about process, so too we see the work being absent from the artist’s own personality.” Logically, declining interviews and distinctly lacking public eccentricities would be part of that equation.
Logic and rhythm were also essential components of LeWitt’s work, as Moos explains. “He was very rational in his approach to every piece, especially as it related to his work at both the AGO and Pearson Airport.
“Equally intriguing were his ideas of free-association, however, as he also created work in processes that involved several professionals after an idea had been conceived,” says Moos about the manner in which LeWitt’s wall paintings were applied, and at the AGO’s Swing Space in particular.
“Pieces were often for a team of artists to complete, many of whom had worked with LeWitt before…. making his ideas that much more radical,” Moos adds. “When he began these sorts of endeavors in the ’60s, the idea of a painter was still applying oil, with a brush, on a piece of canvas.”
And in many instances, it still is. But as compelling as the Swing Space work is both as a process and a finished piece, it too is temporary. The installation will remain only until the current gallery/building renovations are complete.
This is where one can find the context in which LeWitt’s work remains truly timeless: it may be conceived again, without the artist present, in a different space, should an institution acquire the rights to do so. The artist specifications survive, and so too do the individuals that worked with him so closely to ensure their execution. So conceivably, LeWitt works can continue to be installed according to his specifications for years to come. And while art history always mourns the loss of a giant, this last, subtle gesture wins as the most profound.