Of hurricanes and pollination – Vue Weekly

In “How Do We Know What We Know?” Licha does a brilliant job of opening up questions about journalism of such horrors through coverage of the recent political unrest in Syria. His film reveals the production behind a “real” live conflict, jumping between American news footage and video that records its production from the otherwise hidden windy hillside in Turkey. As the American production team leaves, a member of the local camera team asks a telling question: “How will it be when they’re gone?” Licha punctuates this question by showing how journalism makes an event real, alluding to the invisibility of stories that aren’t told in front of the camera.

Carolyn Jervis writes on our two new shows for this week’s Vue Weekly.

Look longer, think harder

In Vue this week, Carolyn Jervis reflects on some highlights of 2011 in Edmonton art—and we’re there:

Solo Exhibit: Gary James Joynes/Clinker, 12 Tones, Latitude 53

Latitude kicked off a strong year of programming with this powerful exhibit by Edmonton artist Joynes. This show provided more than a viewing experience—it was a powerful, overwhelming immersion in raw, tonal sound—sound seen, heard and felt through your whole body. This intensity was so well balanced by photos of sand mandalas, suggesting the meditative aspect of the art experience, each created through the vibration of one of those intense tones.

There’s lots more in the article from all around town. We’re looking forward to another great year, starting with our opening receptions this friday.

Just before our holiday break, Carolyn Jervis wrote about our two December shows, Taxonomia and Working Order in Vue:

Usually my first reaction upon seeing taxidermy, or representations thereof, is to be creeped out. The posed, stuffed animal skins with their vacant glassy eyes are so transparently false in their imitation of living breathing things. Somehow Maria Whiteman’s Taxonomia, Latitude 53’s current Main Space exhibition, manages to create a space for intimate relationships with these and other preserved creatures.

Read the rest at Vue Weekly.

For McLuhan experts and rookies alike

Check it out—our writer-in-residence alumnus Carolyn Jervis wrote a review of our current Main Space show, SPACES&PLACES in Vue Magazine. She writes:

Although Marshall McLuhan is a household name for the CBC-listening set, his ideas about how technology and media shapes our lives have faded from niche ubiquity, beyond his famous lines, “The medium is the message,” and, “Global village.” In honour of the 100th anniversary of McLuhan’s birth, Latitude 53 and curator Aidan Rowe have on offer an exhibition of artwork inspired by the visionary thinker.

Read the whole thing online here or grab a copy of this week’s Vue street-side.

Between Science and Art

Our friend Carolyn Jervis wrote about Of Brains and Magnets and When Dreams Lighten the Reality in this week’s Vue Weekly:

As a viewer, these three vignettes pose an interesting challenge for viewers, since they must sort through different relationships with a technology widely understood as a tool for scientific discovery and objective data collection. This is interesting to consider within an art gallery space, in which a viewer’s interaction with objects and information is interpretation, rooted in subjectivity. How is one to interpret data which at once reads as factual and as somewhat absurd and inconclusive exercises? The accompanying monograph text by formerly-Calgary-based artist Scott Rogers, whose loosely related words provide no insight or interpretive ways into Of Brains and Magnets, further reinforces the unresolved tension between understandings of scientific inquiry and art interpretation.

Read the full article here.

Vue Weekly: The world at play

Our friend Carolyn Jervis wrote about Mathieu Valade and Lisa Rezansoff’s new shows here at Latitude 53 for Vue Weekly. If you haven’t seen it yet, here’s part of her description of Cubic Units:

Startling art installation mischief, which is complementary to “Logotomy,” can be found in the show’s namesake piece. Innocuous-looking mirrored cubes cover one-third of the exhibition space, appearing to be quietly at home sitting on the grey floor and projecting reflected light onto grey walls and ceiling. Without warning, the diamond-shaped reflections abruptly disappear as the cubes reveal hockey puck-sized internal lights. The whole floor seems to vibrate and the cubes sound like a garburator chorus as they slowly migrate in no particular direction.

Read the article for the rest of her insights.

Carolyn Jervis covers our shows for VUE Weekly

Carolyn Jervis, formerly of L53 Writer-in-Residence fame (you can re-visit her posts here), reviewed both our current exhibitions in this week’s edition of VUE Weekly.

On Brandon A. Dalmer’s Too Drunk to Fuck, she writes:

“[Brandon A.] Dalmer plays upon the human imperative to find pleasure in voyeurism through his series of peep holes, dioramas and prints of mundane and disconcerting neighbourhood life. ….This feeling of covert looking… is seductive, and creates an intense desire to scour each object and scene to seek out the story.

“Dalmer bars viewers from the satisfaction of a clear and singular story in any of his works by refusing to give the spectator enough information to create one. ….[He] draw[s] viewers in through voyeurism and nostalgia, only to present the realization that something sinister is going on beneath the veneer of these clean and tidy neighbourhood scenes.”

And on Gary James Joynes/Clinker’s Frequency Painting: 12 Tones:

“These images are fascinating to think of as snapshots of sand sculpted by sound. This is where the sense of awe comes in, as you consider that the striking differences in how every sand sculpture was formed is due to a manipulation of hertz. ….Experiencing this exhibition is an exercise in endurance. It is more than just visual or aural presentation. It is a visceral encounter to view beautiful images made through a stunning process, and to do so while the sounds reverberate through your body.”

You can read the rest of Carolyn’s article here.

Stop by the gallery this week, and see these two amazing shows for yourself. And don’t miss out on Gary James Joynes’ artist talk, this Saturday (Feb 5) at 2:00 PM! Check out the Facebook event for more info.

Banana Moments: Why investing in the arts is worth the risk

This is the last post of Latitude 53’s first Writer in Residence, Carolyn Jervis. She wrote critically about Latitude 53 programming, the community and more on a regular basis over a six month term from April to September. Read more about the Writer In Residence program.

It was a quintessential Edmonton arts scene moment as I circulated through Latitude’s gallery space on the first full day of Visualeyez, banana in hand. The small number of people who came to be spectators and participants for Adina Bier’s performance illustrated some of those key character traits that make our community special:

“Did you get a banana yet?” “Have you eaten a banana?” “How many have you had?” “Make sure you don’t throw out the peel!”

The sincerity and compassionate, nervous desire with which those in attendance took up the banana consumption cause (Adina attempted to get visitors to consume a total of 364 bananas) was pretty stunning. Participants didn’t just submit themselves to following steps one through four, as listed on the audience participation instruction sheet, and consider their job done. They saw beyond their role as individuals the artist needed in order to complete a desired task and instead became active in a leadership role. These visitors took part in the outreach that was needed to maximize the artist’s success through engaging with those just entering the gallery. This didn’t just serve to help out an artist, it also illustrated that Latitude has some very dedicated and supportive community members. They clearly had a complex understanding that there was a need for collective participation to ensure the success of the project.

I don’t imagine that these ideas were factored into Bier’s desired outcome for her performance. Perhaps she would have preferred that 364 people show up and each eat a solitary banana.

On Tuesday I talked about how I am learning to negotiate my own involvement in the arts. In my final installment as Latitude’s Writer in Residence, I want to discuss what can be learned from moments like that banana moment: learning about the benefits of personally investing in the arts.

I’ve heard that people with lots of money invest in stocks and in business ventures because they believe that they will benefit positively by doing so in the form of dividends and other kinds of monetary returns. I don’t imagine that if one of these people approached a business that they wanted to invest in and only spoke ill of the existing work being done, making no investment whatsoever, that anyone would benefit. The prospective investment company would go without an investor, and the investor would be left exactly where she or he started. Without the risk there is no reward. But what would happen if this hypothetical person searched for potential in that chosen business instead of in the problems? What if he or she invested enough to become a major stockholder in that business and shared their expertise, helping to turn potential into the realization of excellence?

This summer I had a chat with a fellow arts community member, and as I told her about all of the projects I was excitedly working on, including this writer in residence position, she spoke in a way I found very disheartening. She told me that in the decades she had spent as part of Edmonton’s visual arts community, she didn’t believe anything had really changed – not the people, and not the work getting made. I don’t think it is fair to presume that this was her intention, but the result of our conversation was that I felt like this person I respected and looked up to thought the work I was doing and the position I was advocating for was useless and a waste of time. Because nothing’s ever going to change anyway, so why bother? But the conclusion that I came to about that conversation, upon further reflection, is that I don’t care if it’s true. What I do know is it doesn’t sound like any fun to live without the belief that change and excellence is always possible.

So perhaps sometimes we have to detach ourselves from a grand vision unrealized, like the dream of having an audience eat 364 bananas. Because didn’t that provide the chance for something wonderful to happen instead? I think that it’s worth identifying moments like that as a success and committing mental energy to think about how to keep building upon them. This is distinctly different from settling or lowering expectations. I just don’t know how, as a community, we can truly be taking every opportunity to learn how to be better and do better if we can’t celebrate our successes.

There’s a hitch with this approach, one that I think would be a deal breaker for that arts community member I spoke of. If you invest in something, as Bier’s participants did, and get personally involved, you are as responsible for successes as you are for failures. Although my acquaintance might be dissatisfied with the status quo in Edmonton’s art scene, her peripheral involvement means that she can’t be directly held responsible. To step up and be part of change makes you complicit for any possible all outcomes, positive and negative. But at least if you are taking a risk you have an opportunity for new learning, and wouldn’t you rather learn from a risk than stand forever static and dissatisfied on the sidelines? After all, doing anything new and innovative always means taking a risk without knowing with complete confidence that there will be a successful conclusion.

I would like you to think about whether or not you would like to be a fair-weather friend to the arts, which ensures that you get to participate in the fun and interesting programming in this city as it stands, or whether you would rather be an investor. Are you going to agreeably eat a single banana or invite your friends and neighbours in order to get a dozen consumed? Take ownership, take leadership, and take a risk.

As for me, I leave this Writer in Residence position feeling ready to soldier on in my cerebral journey through a world of art and ideas. Many thanks to Latitude 53 - and particularly Todd Janes - for taking the risk in inviting me to be their first Writer in Residence, especially since I didn’t even know that I was one. I’m excited about the learning and leadership in store for me in my work with public art, working for The Works’ Art & Design in Public Places program. I will be continuing to stir up art and activism nation-wide through my community mail art project, Love Letters to Feminism, as it travels to Toronto in November for exhibition.

Thanks for reading, for commenting, and for challenging me over the past six months. Let’s keep getting down and dirty in Edmonton’s visual arts scene, shall we?

Learning to take care of the arts and take care of myself – Part One

This post is written by Latitude 53’s Writer In Residence, Carolyn Jervis. She writes critically about Latitude 53 programming, the community and more on a regular basis over a six month term from April to September. Read more about the Writer In Residence program.

I’ve been putting off writing the final two posts for my writer in residence work. Or, rather, they’ve been put off for me. Saturday was my first day off in three weeks from my full-time arts job. It shouldn’t come as much of surprise that I found myself ill when my historically hearty immune system just could not take the pressure when stress and the influenza around the office joined forces. I don’t want to ignore just how many people in countless other industries are overworking as a necessity, from corporate executives to academics and so on. However, there is a particular kind of staggering workload taken on by arts professionals that I find difficult to understand, despite being complicit in overworking myself. When is dedication to getting the work done pushing the limits of my health too far?

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Social Vitamins and Minerals: How might food shape our everyday performances?

This post is written by Latitude 53’s Writer In Residence, Carolyn Jervis. She will be writing critically about Latitude 53 programming, the community and more on a regular basis over a six month term from April to September. Read more about the Writer In Residence program.

Food guides and official wisdom have been telling us for years to think about food visually and spatially. Protein should resemble a deck of cards, cheese: two fingers, a potato: your fist. And in the end, your daily intake should resemble a pyramid. To compliment these visual food serving size parameters is the optical understanding of what our bodies are supposed to look like as a result of this compliance.

Highly public figures like the United States’ First Lady and British Chef Jamie Oliver have been aggressively crusading to change the way people eat, and what they think of as appealing to ingest. It’s worth thinking about what the political and the official guidance has to offer us, or, what is does to us. As we move closer to the food-themed performative explorations that will take place at VisualEyez, up for discussion now is the way in which food can be a tool for understanding how we come to be ourselves. How do we see, and how do we perform, our sense of autonomy and uniqueness?

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