#theme:blueart

[thisisnotartcritique]

Blue Art, Red Wine

How did we choose this theme? Blue art to see at midnight (you and me)

M: Well, it was late at night, I was drinking with Peter and Johann, and we were frankly tired of art. The rhetoric, the jargon, the rigid categories of art, god, it was all so boring and conformist. The boundaries of location and time, for example, Dutch Still Life 1700s, no longer apply in this day and age. We wanted to move beyond that, into the soul, and truly connect with youth. Pete’s even got us hooked on this uh what’s it called low, low music? 

P: Right, we are inspired by lo-fi music album titles, it puts you in the mood to look at art. When you get home from a tiring day at work, I like to pour a glass of red wine and listen to lo-fi. It reminds you of the hours between midnight and dark rainy mornings, when the sky is dark with a tint of blue. It clears my dusty soul...

J: I love the night! Makes me feel alive. Forgive me, I’m still a bit inebriated. My age must be catching up to me… 

M: Ah careful, what if those are your last words, Johann?

J: So be it. 

Why did you choose your piece of art or exhibition?

P: I am more of the techy one here, unlike Hans and Mike, those two are too consumed by their back pains. Though I have to admit, being on my phone in bed has not been great for my neck either...hahaha…. Anyways, I see myself in Chiao’s drawing, of course except that my room wouldn’t be full of silly posters and uncanny adornments. But the colours, the “vibe”, the little human figure, everything is so relatable, yet in perfect harmony. I aim to achieve that level contentment in life, and I want my readers to feel the same. 

J: I would take offense to Peter’s comment, but unfortunately I learned how to ride a bike just a few months ago. Aside from the unsolicited comments, I’ve been feeling absolutely wonderful after a summer trip to a very hot place (definitely not Hell), and am now undertaking an infestation at a quaint old house in Toronto, which as you can imagine, is a very large ordeal. I’m honoured. Living in a city really allows you to become acquainted with what humanity really tastes feels like, and I find that there is creativity everywhere. Just yesterday I saw a tasteful mural on a fence by the grocery store! It’s as if that mural could transport us to a different time: these thoughts are what reminded me of Kanghee Kim’s photographs.

M: Oh I’m all about adventure, sweetheart. As a man plagued by insomnia and burnout and Instagram, I… need to escape. We all need that. Especially when you have “friends” like Pete and Hans. 

The merging of art & architecture in New Circadia was simply sublime.When I went last year, each time was better than the last. The naps - bellissima! The soft pillow gear, the disco ball, the low-lights and hum, the recorded dreams all coalesced into this sanctuary. 

After all, I write about what I’m drawn to — and maybe my next piece will be about a certain interviewer. 

P: Of course the naps got you Mike. I agree with you that the New Circadia was indeed a much needed escape, simply the act of pushing through the heavy curtains resets my brain. Sometimes I don’t realize how tired I am until I lay in bed, and that was my experience with New Circadia. This brings me to think about our relationship with rest in everyday contemporary life, who decided to place such a heavy emphasis on productivity and efficiency. Do you live to work, or work to live?

J: Who doesn’t like a healthy dose of existential dread on a Monday morning? Although I haven’t personally visited the New Circadia exhibit, I have to say, I don’t find the idea of softness enticing. I prefer the hard cement of a Satanist church’s basement, or perhaps even the deteriorating wooden beams within an old Victorian house. But back to your question, Peter… I don’t know. I’ve been alive for as long as I can recall, but working for only the past two years.

M: That’s because no one would hire you, Hans. 

J: As an immortal being, I have no need for earthly pleasure and glib monetary transactions! Plus, McDonalds already had a supernatural being working for them.

M: Then pay us back for the bubble tea. 

J: If you want the money so badly, come and get it.

M: I’ll cut you in half, demon boy! 

*muffled shuffling sounds, a singular groan of pain followed by heavy breathing from opposite sides of the room*

P: Idiots. Hopefully, you’ll feel better in the morning. I’m not writing this blog by myself.

[thisisnotartcritique]

NEW CIRCADIA (Adventures in Mental Spelunking), 2020

Photo by Bob Grundu

...

are you tired (like me)

do you dream (like me)

the city never sleeps (but it should but we should)

/// 

Evocative and immersive — a space for weary travelers and thinkers in Toronto. A haven to rest from the world and technology. I still recall New Circadia, the bold inaugural exhibition from the basement gallery of the UofT Daniels Faculty of Architecture, Landscape, & Design. From its opening to the end, each time I went was sublime. 

At night, a spotlight would shine “New Circadia” at the east door. The building lobby’s walls had more info about the exhibition, along with colorful pie charts about sleep — people put pins to answer. As you walk down the metal staircase and past the silvery wall stating “New Circadia (Adventures in Metal Spelunking), you go into the gallery. 

The exhibition had three zones: the Transitory for storing your shoes & belongings and donning vibrant pillow gear, the Dark with thick felt curtains and abstract humming chairs, and the Oneiroi, a small private zone for listening to and recording dreams. The disco ball on the ground. The grey fabric hanging from the ceiling. The low lights. 

Otherworldly.

As a man who’s been alive for centuries, a good nap is life-changing. As products in a capitalistic society, we truly do not prioritize sleep — we work until we die. We sell our lives. I have done so much, and yet so little… Is it ambition or propaganda? 

New Circadia was a safe zone. The occasional events from an opening concert, movie nights, to bedtime stories with drag queens underscored the importance of downtime.  

However, while the public and the students (the latter who had access at midnight) enjoyed the space, what does its temporality and impact mean for a design institution? As all-nighter culture is so deeply entrenched in design education & industries, what more can be done? How do we incorporate healthy practices in all spaces? 

Ultimately, I’m sad to see New Circadia go. As we indulge in digital art from our homes instead, I can’t wait to see what’s next from this unique gallery. Aren’t you? 

MMXX at your service

...

https://www.daniels.utoronto.ca/events/2019/11/07/new-circadia-adventures-mental-spelunking 

https://oneiroi.ca/stations

[thisisnotartcritique]

You’ll Feel Better In the Morning, Felicia Chiao, 2020

by Peter P. Smithson 

...

Water-based markers, Ink, Tanned paper

My phone’s screen turned dark, as I first tried to zoom into this drawing to figure out what kind of plant it is on the window sill. In the 5.5”x2.8” screen, I see the soft flare of moonlight reflected off my glasses, and a tiresome figure fading into the dark. You Will Feel Better in the Morning casts a reflection on the viewer, as the fleshy figure embodies no one and everyone at the same time. While the drawing seems like it can be accompanied by a Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto, Chiao embraces the modern loneliness as the little figure lies in the dark, content. 

In the era of technology, we can all relate to the immense amount of guilt from binging on social media before bed, which somehow occurs naturally after setting the alarm. Nonetheless, through the contrast between the chaotic content and the uniform lines - plastic grocery bag spilling over on the carpet, outlined by thin, unbroken curves, Chiao finds a balance - nothing more, nothing less. In the familiar scene, contentment is found. We often associate staying in bed as unproductive, but here, staying in bed is acceptable. In Chiao’s own words, she only got a desk after quarantine, and has always created works on the bed. “Turn your screen around to view it in any orientation,” Chiao even encourages you to use your phone in this very instance. 

Alone in the room, the desaturated colour palette brings melancholy, but also calmness, like the nostalgic nights. As the little figure browses its phone, it wanders into the photo album, diving deeper and deeper into the colossal photo collection. In isolation, the modern device provides connection, and a place of consolation.

Blue art to see at midnight - Chiao leaves us a message of encouragement in the title. 

...

Felicia Chiao’s drawing represents the mundane everyday life, but somehow manages to incorporate our day dreams about sitting in Moroccan baths all day and having a giant pigeon crashing in the attic. 

Find out more: https://www.instagram.com/feliciachiao/?hl=en

[thisisnotartcritique]