For quite a few of days now I haven’t been feeling very verbally inspired. I guess you could say it’s a small case of writer’s block and I’ve got my fingers crossed that it will soon pass. In the meantime I thought I’d share some photos I took last Friday in Woodstock. I read somewhere that there is a Kendell Geers exhibition currently running at the Goodman Gallery, so my sister and I decided to go have a look. It took us a while to find the place, but eventually we did and it was well worth the search.
And of course as you enter, the very first thing you see is the Fuck Wall.
There were some interesting beaded artworks on the walls that look like random shapes and patterns, but are actually letters that combine and divide to make up words. There were words like love, hate, believe, hope etc. but apparently the Xhosa women who worked on the beading refused to do one with the word fuck. Funny.
The lady who works at the gallery was really sweet and told us a lot of cool stuff about the artist and some interesting things that he likes to do. She also pointed out to us that the totem pole-like sculptures in the middle of the room were in fact the negative space created by different words, a sort of continuation of his beaded word-play works. Amazing. And to think it almost went completely over our heads!
By the time we left, we were feeling so inspired, we decided to check out the Michael Stevenson gallery down the road. There was this incredibly creepy artwork by Jane Alexander that completely fascinated us. It’s called Yield and consists of a room filled with strange creatures, rubber gloves and machetes.
What makes it even weirder is that you get to walk around the room, viewing the creatures up close and stepping on weapons and gloves. We spent quite a bit of time in there and when we left I noticed a TV screen outside the room that shows whatever is happening inside the room.
The voyeuristic element just added about three more levels of creepiness to it and although I was intrigued, I was also quite keen to move along. We looked around some more and then stumbled upon the best artwork of all.
Can’t you just picture snooty art critics inspecting the wall and nodding in approval? Too funny. We had such a laugh when we saw this and my sister remarked that now it actually is an artwork. But let’s not get into a debate on what is art and what is not, I’m still not feeling quite my verbal self.