olafur! olafur! what is in your brain? three tigers, two bears and a shark on cocaine

Mandy Bubble - performance caniche bleu royal

I am not too interested in gossiping in written form, I prefer to do this orally

F.R. DAVID, edition autumn 2008, "A is for `Orses`(Not for Asses).

Out of the editorial:
"(...) To those who are flocking (back) to the spaces of art because they have been called, erroneously and rather unimaginatively, the churches of the post-secular world, where all come to assemble and bow down before the mute gospel of art`s profound mysteriousness, to all those craving for the comforting, uterine darkness of the cultic, we would like to say that (apart from the obvious and the obviously important, namely: "Attention! There is no God!"), although words don`t come easy, silence - the darkness of language - is not the answer. To all those who have come to gather in the smoky, musty incense-infested caverns of post-secular art (there must be a relationship here with the historical triumph of the black box or dark room over the white cube as the foremost space of the institutional definition of art - a point we cannot explore in further detail here), we would like to send out the following warning: "we shall now switch the lights back on!" Dark rooms are for dark ages - and those we ultimately bring down upon us ourselves. Prayers are for priests - and they can only thrive under the incantatory spell of some authoritarian omerta, which we will continuously strive to break up with relentless chatter, our noise, our mumbo-jumbo, if not plain language. (...)"

J'ai fait de l'insomnie hier...

Comment exprimer le plaisir d’assister au tout dernier vernissage du centre Skol ? Si l’espace se trouve régulièrement bondé de monde lors de ces réunions quasi mensuelles, le vendredi 20 février dernier se démarque sans doute par l’heureux mariage de la crème de DARE-DARE à celle de Skol. (Pour ceux qui pourraient se sentir lésés de n’y avoir su faire acte de présence, sachez que la crème a la vertu de tourner suffisamment vite pour que votre tour vienne bien assez tôt). Pour n’en citer que quelques uns, notons la présence d’Anne Bertrand (coordonnatrice de Skol) et hôtesse de la soirée, Eve Dorais (coordonnatrice du dernier projet de publication de DARE-DARE), l’élégante discrétion de Robin Simpson (cofondateur de Pavilion Project), l’intarissable amabilité de Doug Scholes (membre du Conseil d’administration de DARE-DARE), la présence du très charmant Frank Norbert (soulignant délicieusement l’absence de Jean-François Prost), l’inconditionnelle Nathalie Bachand, sans oublier Helena Martin Franco, Cédric Dussault, Louis Fortier, Fabien Loszach, Marie-Suzanne Désilets, Geneviève Rousseau, Nadège Grebmeier Forget, Claude De Passillé, Alexis Bellavance, Gina Badger, Matthew Biederman, Constanza Camelo Suarez, Isabelle Marie Cyr, Adriana de Oliveira, Dominic Gagnon, Toby Heys, Marcio Lana-Lopez, Sophie Le-Phat Ho, Luc Lévesque, Chih-Chien Wang Dominique Sirois, Patric Lacasse, Myriam Yates et leur charmant jeune Lyll. Quant aux autres, non moins nombreux, ils jouèrent le rôle essentiel de liant au sein de cette heureuse assemblée. Peut-on alors se déclarer surpris en remarquant Simon Lafrenière affairé à s’occuper du bar ? Cette implication bénévole à Skol d’un si grand habitué de DARE-DARE nous confirme indubitablement la fusion qui semblait s’être opérée entre les faunes de ces deux centres d’artistes, lesquels, en dépit de leurs approches radicalement distinctes, s’harmonisèrent soudain autour d’un propos et d’intérêts communs.

Une courte déception cependant : comment, alors que l’espace aseptisé de la galerie l’aurait si aisément permis, Jean-Maxime Dufresne a-t-il pensé encombrer l’espace de tables et de bancs à profusion, plutôt que de laisser les visiteurs s’installer plus près du sol ? La surprise est plus forte lorsque l’on connaît la grande spontanéité que pratique cet artiste dans l’art inégalé de s’asseoir à terre avec un naturel désarmant en toutes circonstances. Le temps du vernissage, l’installation appelait la désinvolture des nappes de pique-nique. La liesse qui s’est progressivement emparée du monde ne me fait pas mentir. Tout a commencé lorsque Yann Pocreau (chef de Clark) a déposé un furtif baiser dans le creux de la gorge d’Asseman Ssabett. Le contact de cette courte barbe sur la peau nue de la jeune femme avait quelque chose d’électrisant. Clara Bonnes fut ensuite surprise à déposer ses lèvres sur le lisse pétale bleu ciel serti au charmant lobe de l’oreille de Virginie Laganière. Je ne suis cependant pas surprise que personne n’ait poussé l’audace jusqu’à porter ses lèvres au décolleté par trop tardivement dévoilé de Maryse Larivière (cofondateur de Pavilion Project), elle aussi affairé à s’occuper du bar. La plus grande classe se démontre parfois par la qualité du respect qu’elle nous inspire. Cependant je ne doute pas un instant que cet objet précis du regard n’ait été maintes fois caressé par des yeux se voulant aussi discrets que l’invitation était à peine esquissée. Plus la soirée avançait, donc, plus la candeur se propageait et nous baignait dans une douce allégresse contrastant instantanément avec la profondeur du propos de L’agence. Le point culminant de cet élan contaminant fut atteint vers 22h00, lorsque Jean-Pierre Caissie su choisir avec un soin constant les 45 tours qui finirent par faire céder les barrières sociales restantes pour entraîner les quelques derniers dans une danse effrénée jusqu’à ce que certains pieds logés dans des escarpins à talons hauts s’oublient dans l’instant au risque de se réveiller endoloris le lendemain matin.

Thierry de Duve

Conversation from a sauna
Her: I was attending Thierry de Duve's conference at UQAM
Him: How was it ?
Her: He puts all kinds of unrelated references in the same bag.
Him: Does he shakes it with bread crumbs and bakes it in the oven ?
Her: How do you know ? LOL
Her (after taking a deep breath): He really did put a bunch of objects in a brown bag with NON-ART written on it !
Him: And then what ? He cuts off two holes and put the bag over his head ?
Her: LOL !!!!

ESSE Art + Opinions - Fragilité

Matthew Barney and Sophie Calle ? This is so 5 years ago !

ok, enough said ; )

Beauty plus pity

Thursday night: a bazillion degrees below zero and hot hot hot for contemporary art in Montreal.

First, I took a quick peek in on the Duke and Battersby talk at the VAV Gallery. The couple introduced their latest work, screening a video from their recent installation at Toronto's Power Plant. The video was about God and how he's going a little crazy and that the animal world are really pissed off at him and maybe we should be too. Aside from the artists I saw no one I needed to know there, unless I need a keffiyeh wrapping lesson from one of the Urban Outfitters frequent flyers in the primarily student audience.


Around the corner at one of Concordia University's 'other' galleries was Hair Follies curated by Leisure Projects. The vernissage was filled to the brim with the rosy cheeked anglophone half of the arts scene. The Leisure ladies, Meredith Carruthers and Susannah Wesley, stylish as always, floated through their exhibition, a tangle of hair related works of art. I spotted the towering Jon Knowles peering down at the fab stylings of Bernard Perreault a late-mid-century stylist that would make any earth girl swoon. MACM curator (and Leisure beau) Marc Lancot was there, off hours of course with a bit of vino in hand. The exhibition also features the dreamy AGAC director and exhibiting artist Mathieu Gauvin. The visiting members of the Icelandic Love Corporation were spotted taking in the whole hairy mess of it all.

Hair today gone tomorrow! I slipped out, down to the metro and across down to the Wim ' The Belgium Stallion' Delvoye vernissage at Gallery UQAM. Famished and hearing that there was a feast prepared by artists Valérie Blass + Anthony Burnham, Sylvie Cotton, and Stephen Schofield, I bounced past Olivia Boudreau's show in the second space and down into the carpeted sub-basement of UQAM. The food in front of me was delectable, yet when I reached towards one of Sylive Cotton's loafs, a gallery assistant slapped my hand away, the food was not for the guests it was for the host – Delvoye's caca producing Cloaca machine. No worries I was handed an invitation to the private reception. If the gilded caca god was paid such respect, a social of my standing would surely be dinning like Antoinette. I arrived at the small bar around the corner (size is proportionate to exclusivity, the smaller the better in this case), not letting the fact that I had to hang my own coat up ruin my night, I headed to the bar for my free drink, upon receiving my wine I was asked to pay! I had a bill to break any way, but take note Montreal - in this little girl's world a ticket entails a drink or two. To the end of the room I spotted the spread... à-la-provigo, black plastic trays with tuna on crackers, I guess we the scene (it only takes one) are playing second fiddle to the shit machine tonight. Really, the most delicious thing there was Delvoye's girlfriend's Chanel purse. Here I was immersed in the other side of Montreal, the UQAM scene. Esse magazine subscribers abound. I did see the bigger is better dealer Donald Browne surveying the room. Another vertically gifted member of the scene Thierry Marceau was seated most of the time. Painter Wil Murray was there, skull, cross bones, and hair (Wil we missed you at the Hair Folies show!). Our favorite snob Adrian Norvid humored the whole fiasco. Marc-Antoine K. Phaneuf, the Martin Picard of contemporary art, had no problem paying for his wine. Despite a few culinary and beverage misteps, UQAM Gallery curator Louise Dery, if you're reading this: you are an absolutely fab host!!!


Rumor had it that the studly DHC/ART tech crew, were throwing a little “power drill” of their own that night. Suitably motivated I put heel to ice and headed north of the 60th parallel (Ave. Van Horne) to the untamed industrial hinterland of Beaubien Village.

Much mmmmMuah!!!
Mandy Bubbles