Archives 2004 ()

5 November-10 December 2004

rhopography #36

Rhopography, and archaic tern frequently used in the 19th century for still life painting, derives from the Greek work rhopos (trivial objects, small wares, trifles).Through constructing still life insects of food scraps, Joachim Froese’s work refers specifically to the historical tradition of Flemish and Spanish still life painting. The precise rendering of objects in the Flemish tradition was reflective of the theological attitude that the essence of things was inaccessible to human nature. Seemingly, realistic depictions  were at the same time highly subjective constructions of, and reflections on, society, and religion. The spanish still life painters such as Juan Sanchez Cotan, arranged their objects according to geometric formulas and were underpinned by monastic ideas of order and discipline.
Froese’s black and white photographs are a modern reflection on both of these traditions, while challenging the notion of truthfulness in photography. Rhopography  leaves the viewer guessing whether the depicted creatures are in fact dead or alive, whether the Kafkaesque scenery is real or imagined.

13 August- 3 September  2004

First exhibit in the new main floor location, where Platform is currently located.

16 July- 28 August 2004

Andrew Forster

Chris MacDonald

14 May-25 June 2004

still film #2 (You always swam…) 2001-2002

have clean hands

We remember streets, cars, smells, trees and pockets. We remember voices, hallways, frustrations, trouble and thinking about it all. We record, recode, revisit and recreate. We think about colour. Certain shades of blue-green-degrees of hue and saturation. We document carefully, things that are unimportant and ignore things that are. We create a way we want to be seen and fight against the ways we think we are seen. There is a safety and danger and rules. We indulge in the good times, the greener grasses. Jumping in a lake and eating blueberry pie. We feel the corners and the edges and perform for the camera. We record everything now and decide what is important later.                                                ~Derek Dunlop

There is an importance placed on moments as soon as they are deemed worthy to be captured, presumably forever, on film. It begins when we are children… our parents record our ‘firsts’: steps, haircuts, days of school and vacations. These quickly become personal tributes, stored in albums or mounted in frames, only to be amassed over too many years and then forgotten about. In Derek Dunlop’s case, he has unearthed his family’s archives and reinterpreted the years of Super 8 film by incorporating found and original text with domestic scenes. The result is highly personal, at times eerie, always intriguing and certainly beautiful.
In have clean hands, Dunlop works with images of the city, the landscape, leisure and home. Within these minimalist comfort-zones, we become relaxed, eager to explore the picture plane but are often jolted back to reality when confronted with language. A mixture of grammar lessons from vintage textbooks and poetic thought, Dunlop’s cryptic wording is as important to the work as his culled archival imagery. He has also enhanced the image, staying true to the grainy and blurred quality through re-shooting and digitization.
These lake, home and street scenes, speak to the minutia of memory. The fixed driveways and ordered flower boxes, the vastness of prairie highways and rural lakes all reinforce the notion of family and memory. It is interesting what we choose to remember and how we learn to do so. For instance, in one work, the artist juxtaposes a lush sunset with the reflection you always swam with a drink in your hand, i thought you were famous. It is this naivete of a young child that relates Dunlop’s sentimentality and really allows the audience to connect with his work. In another piece, the artist offers it came down to recording the important information like the corner rocking chair. We then think of our own past and the moments of our own lives that were misrepresented through family photographs; or perhaps not captured at all, due to the type of censorship that inevitably occurs in home video. Too often the monumental events are overshadowed by the mundane. have clean hands is a testimonial to Dunlop’’s own experience, but in many ways, it also speaks to the aspects of family and memory we all share.

J.J. Kegan McFadden
Communications Assistant,
Platform centre for photographic + digital arts

Derek Dunlop grew up in Winnipeg and has studied at the University of Manitoba,  the University of Victoria, Simon Frasier University (BFA) and Charles University in Prague. His work will be included in the group exhibition curated by David Garneau- Making It Like A Man! Masculinities in Canadian Art and Culture, June 5th- August 22nd 2004, organized by the MacKenzie Art Gallery and the University of Regina.

March 26 - May 7, 2004

My work stem from questions relating to landscape planning and design. I reflect upon the manner in which we perceive and transform space, the way we infuse it with our presence and thoughts. A reciprocal relationship exists between images of landscape itself, one in which our modes of existence are revealed. landscape representations are attitudes of awareness; our interpretations of them, like their spatial composition, update our vision of the world and our entire being.
Our present-day cities are in a state of transition: from a post-industrial space to a technological era. In the highly mediatized space that we now inhabit the physical and temporal boundaries, which define the real world, are disappearing. Our perceptions are conditioned by the mechanisms of a technical culture, one that transforms, condenses and draws these perceptions into a world in which reality and fiction are melding to the point of inextricably. Gradually a new world order is unfolding, and the landscape that springs from it is beyond time and space, both everywhere and nowhere.
These non-specific landscapes, these non-sites, reveal much about this transitional state. As sites of instability and change, lacking roots, they are infused with both our presence and absence: we transform them but do not inhabit them. Proliferating around the city’s edges are vague and chaotic spaces full of disconnected events. Hesitating between city and country without opting for either, these unclassifiable areas often go unnoticed. And yet they illustrate the tensions, clashes and disappearances that characterize the social and urban fabric. These forms of urban disorganization are reflections of our era and expose certain ills of our societies. Sources of revelations and challenges, they appear to vacillate between several possible courses, awaiting a new plan.
This notion is central in my recent work. I documented wastelands, urban fringes, abandoned industrial sites and modified “natural” environments. I track down the signs, traces and artifacts which reveal the contradictions and ruptures in contemporary landscapes. I then alter my photographic images in order to extend their meaning; I doctor and distort them, adding something unexpected or unusual. I lend an element of doubt, and additional layer of ambiguity which leads to a dialectical interplay of fracture and union. The resulting landscapes maintain a singular relationship with reality: they present a world situated at the edge of plausibility. Our eyes roam their spaces, spotting inconsistencies which surface here and there to betray them. The strangeness inherent in these image becomes a narrative for those observing them, producing a feeling of both repulsion and satisfaction. Constructed from abandoned, disordered and marginal spaces, these landscapes of silence in turn move us. Their time appears suspended, granted a reprieve.
These new mise en scenes push back the limits of the medium of photography, diverting its documentary function towards falsification and invention. Computer manipulation masks the compositional process, turning the digital photo-montages into realistic and probable images. Although they appear familiar, they are the result of various manipulations and simulations and have no real existence. Their verisimilitude is troubling because they show us how easy it is to create convincing illusions and to manipulate factual information. The reconstruction of the landscapes by image-transformation techniques underscores our ability to act upon the world and to intervene in the course of events. In the realm of the possible, these uncertain landscapes raise the question of responsibility-for our planning of space and for our imaginative powers. They should be seen as expressions requiring deeper analysis, as visions that inform us about the state of the world and ourselves.

January 30- March 12, 2004