Crows: an aceart bookwork including the works of Marian Butler, April Hickox, Joanne Bristol, Karilee Fuglem, Sheila Spence, Susan Mills, Dagmar Dahle, Candace Savage
December 16, 2001
a response to the exhibition by Jen Loewen
I find myself thinking about crow.
Crow weaves its way in and out of the world. Making its place, it meanders between not-quite-welcome and outcast. A carrion bird who likes to play with shiny objects. It sees opportunity when others would only see death and collects insignificance for reasons only it can know. Crow builds its life, moment to moment, around that which is present. This is its energy.
Weather Vane: curated by Marian Butler
December 12 – December 15, 2001
a response to the exhibition by Alissa York
“What’s it like out?” we ask. And, literally speaking, the weather is just that — out, the prevailing conditions beyond our bodies (and our buildings, those bodily extensions within which we dwell).
But we all know there’s more to it than that. Continue reading
send + receive festival of sound : Steve Heimbecker, Diane Landry and CinDy
October 16 – October 20, 2001
a response to the exhibition by Steve Bates
There are always challenges associated with hosting send + receive, although 2001 was particularly acute. Having just emerged from the chaos and turmoil of September 11 and its dramatic and far-reaching repercussions, send + receive
Much of the activity around last year’s festival was hosted by ace teetered on the edge of cancellation.artinc. and included, among others, Québécois artist Diane Landry. Landry’s sensitive, playful and poetic work was exhibited earlier in the month as part of Québéque ! New York. Held in New York City and featuring the work of numerous Québécois artists, this group exhibition was located in various galleries around what became known as Ground Zero. The piece Landry was originally scheduled to install during send + receive lay silent under a coating of dust, residue from the Trade Tower collapse.
École d’Aviation / Flying School: Diane Landry
October 14 – November 10, 2001
a response to the exhibition by Rodney LaTourelle
“And for everything which is visible there is a copy of that which is hidden.” –Gary Hill
A kind of trance is induced as soon as one hears the faint whistling and begins to sense the slow, sure motions of Diane Landry’s installation, École d’aviation (Flying School). If you are trying to quit smoking, it may be hard to bear.
how are things? Stairwell Installation Project #3: Michael Dumontier and Tom Elliott
March 23 – April 21, 2001
a response to the exhibition by Kevin Matthews
Between the world that is and anything else is imagination, to navigate and render conceivable. Here the compass is largely created by the mechanisms of poetry – analogy is how we provoke this mechanism into revolution; it is what How are things? ultimately pokes at with its own means.
moving: Doug Melnyk
March 23 – April 21, 2001
a response to the exhibition by Shawna Dempsey
It is a laughable irony that we struggle so hard to create images and shapes which move and provoke our audiences, when we all know that nothing is more beautiful or challenging than the myriad of forms found in nature, not the least of which are our own narcissistically fascinating, endlessly varied and magnificently finely-wrought bodies. The fantastic artwork of evolution leaves us all in the dust, imitators at best. Nothing we can build, paint or perform comes close to skin against skin, an animal’s gait, a hand, a paw, a smile, yet we cannot resist echoing the process that brought us here. Each artist struggles to make something new; make something better. Within us explode big bangs of creation, ideas demanding to be built, painted and performed, evolutions which we ink onto paper. We refine these generations of thought and image, make them relevant to our time and place. The resulting ideas change and move continuously, moving us (as people and artists) forward.
trace: Leah Decter
January 19 – February 17, 2001
a response to the exhibition by Lori Fontaine
upon entering, i am drawn to the left – a long wall running the length of the gallery, broken by 3 pillars. here, evenly spaced, are 21 “tooth boxes”. within each meticulously-framed square is a single tooth, sculpted and then cast in lead, apparently suspended in space – held fast by a horizontal lead post.