Heartspace, my debut solo exhibition at The Red Head Gallery, is in its final week this Weds–Sat noon–5pm. I will be there for the final Saturday (Nov 23) all afternoon, or as close to it as I can manage!

After that the work comes down except for some of the small works which will be part of the group show that follows right after mine, #foxypopup.

Heartfelt thanks to my amazing sponsors!

I have thanked my sponsors in print at the show itself, but it's about time I thanked them here on my website.

They took some pressure off, lightening the load on my mind as I headed into, and worked away in, my studio, and they also made some things possible, thereby helping to make this show as interesting and diverse as my ideas called for.

Here are my generous sponsors: 

• Miriam Snell
• Josef (Joe) Rich
• Abigail Johnson
• Joanna Czub
• The Conspiracy to Promote Artists
• Ruth Austin
• Nancy Moniz
• Lindsay Isaac
• Anne Cook

I also owe a very special thanks to Kal Honey, who helps me in every way imaginable. Thanks also to Tim Marshall who along with Kal installed the show so I feel happy every time I look at it!

Part two of this blog series is up!
​To go directly to it, click here.

The 2018 In Situ multi-arts festival took place November 8–10 at the Small Arms Inspection Building (a former WWII munitions factory now partially refurbished as a creative hub) in Mississauga, Ontario.

'Hearts in Place' was a whole-room installation comprised of: ten 7-foot high scrolls, eight of which were transfer-printed (a hand-pulled process), two were hand-painted; two paper-and-fibre "veined" panels (centre); two veiling textile panels; one built-onsite sculpture/assemblage which you can see a sliver of light from at the centre of this photo; and the wall behind me as I photographed the room panorama was a mural drawing which I drew a portion of as a live performance each of the three evenings of the festival.

Like the first In Situ festival in 2016, this was an extraordinary experience and a creative high, but with the benefit of central heating and running water!

I am still exhausted from the experience of preparing all of this new work, performing and then taking it all down just days later. As a result I will keep this entry shorter than I might have, but will share with you some photographs. Thanks go to the numerous – generous – photographers and friends, (all credited individually), who made this possible, documenting when I could not.

​Many thanks to the many people who came out to experience the festival and visited my room! If you were there, please let me know what you thought in the comments below.

On Sunday I went to The Power Plant in Toronto to catch the Ydessa Hendeles show ‘The Milliner’s Daughter’ before it closed a day later. I went because an artist friend of mine, Victoria Cowan, pointed out its connection to what I do. 

There were many rooms of work, each with a different story to tell. What struck me most strongly at first was how extraordinary the objects were, gathered by Hendeles over many years – a lifetime even.

Some items such as the numerous vitrines and two pairs of oversized pince-nez, were exquisitely crafted, as were the focus of my visit: the truly amazing collection of mannequins.

Some were tiny miniatures some life sized or larger; some mechanical toys, but most the kind used by artists to this day.

The combinations, poses, containment or not, scale contrasts whether between figures or between a figure and the furniture it was placed on, they all set up narrative possibilities, which were hard for the brain to resist.

The uncanny feeling of these articulated dolls comes from the conflict between our cognitive understanding that yes, of course these are inanimate, often very stylized mannequins, but on the other hand how life-like their presence was.

It was very interesting to me as someone who teaches figure and portrait to note how little our brains need to register something as a human being, much like the instances of well-known, often religious figures' faces being found on pieces of toast or a stain on a wall.

​As for the connection to my work, some of which is pictured here, I think I’ll let it speak for itself except to say these ‘Boxed In’ figure works formed the basis for a broader range of work and media concerned with barriers, boundaries and constraints, both physical and not.

​That formed the basis for my Chains Unlinked show at the Art Gallery of Mississauga, the mural portion is pictured here. It was also the origin of my 'Containment' installation at In Situ in 2016, particularly the drawers-turned-to-lightboxes, with solitary figures and faces inside, like the one shown here.

What do you think, what connections do you see? Did you see either show? Please let me know in the comments below.

The In Situ arts festival in late October was an extraordinary experience for me as an artist and a fun one in general.

With two large scale pieces in the main space and an entire room installation (allowing plenty of space for dancers to perform in), it was wonderful to stretch out (mentally and physically) into so much space.

The intensity required to conceive and execute so much in so little time is not sustainable for long (by me at least) but has some benefits. As I was just describing to a friend, it kept the threads of my thoughts white-hot, so every hour of work built 100% onto the previous hours, days and weeks of work – since most other distractions had been put aside... even sleep!

As well, working with the festival's fabulous lighting designer Joe Pagnan and working with light in the drawers and other components of my room installation 'Containment', has forever changed my thinking around light.

The incredible support and enthusiasm of Heather Snell, director/artistic director of the festival, and her wonderful husband Ken, was fertile ground in which to grow (thank you both!).

While I had nothing like enough time to get ready (in fact I am still trying to recover from the 24/7 preparations) but the joyful, creative and expansive experience that this was, coupled with the new work I produced for it, means I am glad and grateful for the opportunity.

And I still love that gorgeous, decrepit building!

Thanks to all who visited! For any who could not, I hope these photos will go some way toward compensating.

For the past several weeks I have been working on a new, ambitious installation for In Situ, an event I wrote about in more detail here (click to open).

What I want to focus on in this post is the relationship between artworks and their space, in a deeper sense than "does this painting go with my couch?"

I leapt at the chance to be part of In Situ even though it would cost me money I don't have, even though there was not enough time to prepare, all because of the space!

​Soaring ceilings, tiny welder's booths, classic windows, exposed pipes, industrial fixtures, peeling paint... what's not to love?

The Small Arms Building is a wonderful network of spaces in a gorgeous state of neglect, the perfect location to stage artworks (not just visual but also performance-based) that relate to this remarkable, untamed space.

As an artist working on projects in an imaginative-but-real world, I wear a number of hats. I put a couple on right away when first touring the space: the Practical Hat (the one that wants me to sleep 8 hours every night, not get up to my eyeballs in debt, see my friends and family more often and regularly, eat well and work out, you know the one) – it thinks about what work I already have that could work in this space; the Dreamer Hat looks at the vast potential of all the spaces in the building and imagines a fantastic array of mostly-impossible (for me in these circumstances at least) ways to transform them and create remarkable experiences.

I am grateful to both Hats: one for keeping me alive (more or less, depending!); the other for enticing me to stretch and attempt things that while less-than-sensible have been glorious to thinking about, to see realized, to watch people interact with and to talk with some of them about.

The photo above shows the space that will be all mine (insert evil laugh here). The room is 20ft by 50ft. A dance performance and its audience will need a pathway through it to the next room, but allowing for that I can do what I want!

At right (I hope it's that way for mobile users as well) is a shot showing a fraction of the drawers I have collected or had set aside for me so I can build my main new sculpture. I won't really know until they are in the space how many I will need, which is part of the fun (and also part of what tells me I have fully transitioned to being an artist now, as my designer self would have wanted to control every detail in advance!). 

In addition to drawers and boxes, I will be working with a lot of photo-digital image transfers, plexiglass and light. This work's roots are my 'Boxed In' figure drawings from 2010 and it will connect up to all of the 'Subject to Limitation' thematic work since.

I will be showing a few existing pieces, one reconfigured specifically for the space it will be in (not pictured here). One of the others has only been shown in BC back in 2012: "Turbulence" a 21ft long photo-digital mixed media piece comprised of six angled panels that will be hung high and look down on the people below. It should suit the main space very well!

So in answer to the question posed in the title of this post: both. I've had the idea for the drawers portion of the main sculpture piece for a few years now but other aspects of the installation that it will be part of were inspired by the context. Also the actual configuration and some of the details of the sculpture are responses to the space and particularities of the event.

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