Betty Woodman

Hilarious. A Miami patio in an upscale part of the city. This screams Florida and wealth to me. The over-the-top recreate of Greco-Roman pleasure palaces as seen through the commercial American lens.

I don’t know what else I can say about it. It is hilarious. What does it smell like? I want it to smell like vanilla and faint spices, simply to again echo those commercial spaces. Pretending towards the exotic and distant. I want it to live harmoniously in a space populated by form-firming spandex and plastic surgery.

Faig Ahmed

I grew up in a house filled with carpets my family brought back from a trip to Turkey when I was young. For a time, my mother assisted a friend who ran a carpet store in my hometown. I have memories of laying on stacked carpets and drifting off to sleep. I can smell the dry air in central Anatolia as my father negotiated for yet another carpet to pack into our too-small car. Carpets are memories, for me.

I’ve loved Faig Ahmed’s work for a long time. The weaving, the design and the symbol of the rug remind me of growing up in my parent’s house. The flowing, breaking way he turns these rugs into pools of liquid is like paint coming off a painting. They’re like a printer stuck on a single row, smearing an image across a page. They’re delightful.

And like many of the artists I’m looking at here, they are useable items intentionally made unusable. Crafted works for the purposes of aesthetics.

Ed Rossbach

I had the pleasure of encountering this piece as part of The Woven Histories exhibit currently on show at the National Gallery of Canada. Attending with my mother — a weaver — was very interesting, as she knows much of the context of the artists on show. This piece jumped at me because it is a painting. Or, to me, it is a painting. I see a starburst, perhaps, in the density of knots. Perhaps fireworks, given the colours.

Looking across his other works, there are baskets and usable objects constructed in ways that make them perhaps unusable. This wall hanging is a blanket that provides no warmth. It is a crafted object purely for the aesthetic.

Susan Avishai

Repurposing clothing, in particular dress shirts, and therefore interrupting a waste stream is important to Avishai. Many of the materials are donated to her, rather than thrifted or directly sourced for a work.

Avishai’s argument against what she calls “inattentive consumption” resonates with me, and echoes into the work that I created in this project. In fact, without my attendance at a show of this artist’s, last year, I may not have come up with my idea of the crown of ties/helm of inequity.

Omar Mismar

The Venice Biennale was impactful in terms of what I consider “open” to me for painting. Yes, this work is mosaic (and Kapwangi Kiwanga’s work is a bead installation) and yet these can be paintings.

Navigating queerness, and otherness, through such an ancient and storied form as mosaic is fascinating. What else and where else can this be applied. How does this medium alter the message.

I want to explore. That is what I get from this artist.

Lynette Yiadom-Boakye

I’m a sucker for a weaving reference, therefore this selection. I love the idea of portraits of non-existent people. Created, and constructed fictional normal people. Her artist’s statement at the Jack Shainman Gallery speaks to people disconnected or unconnected to a time and place. I don’t know if I entirely buy that: I recognize the fashions and furniture that I see. There is at least an era, and approximate place, to her constructions. We can’t hope to escape our environmental influences, perhaps.

Yiadom-Boakye’s intent, though, resonates strongly with me. I paint a great number of figures and people and have slowly been chasing myself away from painter-as-photographer realism. I don’t need to replicate my references or paint the person that is in front of me (unless it is intended as an actual portrait). Why can’t I paint the people in my mind, and leave more story open to interpretation?

Cherry Pickles

Cherry Pickles gets me looking in the mirror, so to speak. I paint a lot of bearded male figures. Perhaps because I’m a bearded male figure. My friends ask me about all the different self-portraits, which aren’t self-portraits, that I’ve painted. I don’t intentionally insert myself, or adopt these painted personas. And yet, there I am perhaps. And yet, again, I know the names(or Instagram handles) of every model. That one is Matt, or James, or Toby.

I really like Cherry Pickles’ adoption of identities in their paintings. Looking at these works, led me to Peter Brathwaite and Rediscovering Black Portraiture.

I don’t know if I can articulate the influences of the exactness of the threads I’m pulling here, but I’m definitely pulling them into my work.

I love the humour.

Hew Locke

What can I say? “Yes” ? I see the colours of Latin and South America. I see symbols and forms of that region. I can see colonial symbolism. Looking at the writeup for Procession, I can see some of what I spot to be aligned. Intersections of history, and power.

These are sculptures, but I wonder what they might be like as performance. If these were people in a parade, would that change the impact? I’m reminded of the Solstice Parade, here in Toronto.

Given my explorations of King Corporate, I can see why tutors and students were suggesting Hew Locke. However, I can’t see myself creating something as static as Procession. Movement is needed.

Monster Chetwynd

Again, a “yes”! Enthusiastically. With a distinct sense of joy.

In the YouTube video Monster Chetwynd | Drawn to Transformation, the artist references joy in the process. Abandon, and release and becoming.

I’m not going to be very coherent here, and although my work will be more restrained, I feel like I’m paddling the same river. Humor, and questioning established roles. Satirizing what is. These all feel like my own paintbrushes, if you will — though mine are recently acquired and hers are well loved.

Cannupa Hanska Luger

A First Nations/Indigenous artist based in New Mexico, what drew me to the artist was the costume work based on recycled and reimagined materials. Their work is Afrofuturism parallel, but based and formed from First Nation’s eyes. I don’t know a catchy word to describe it, but it is wonderful

We Live reminds me of a short story I wrote years ago, that follows somewhat similar themes — though different viewpoints. At the time, I was developing a comic book. I should get back to that — time is ever the enemy.

In the now, this artist’s thinking about costume and constructing rituals feels right as I think about King Corporate as I start to think about how to realize a performance from that character.

Link to video