Sharp show’s commentary dark and witty

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This article was published 23/04/2011 (5524 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

In a conceptually packed show at Urban Shaman, Métis artist Dylan Miner takes as his starting point Louis Riel’s provisional government of 1869-1870. When it comes down to it, the Michigan-based Miner suggests, everything is provisional.

Miner exposes the tricky nature of knowledge and authority, as history is reinterpreted, borders shift and power is up for grabs. The branding of sports teams becomes the metaphorical base of the show, sports being perhaps the ultimate provisional activity (with players traded, teams relocated, records broken, today’s bums becoming tomorrow’s heroes).

Curated by Manitoba-based curator Jenny Western, Provisional is a sharp, tight show that combines dense socio-political content with loads of visual flair.

The main gallery is strewn with vintage-look hand-sewn team pennants that celebrate the seven sacred teachings of traditional aboriginal culture. Hockey sticks jut aggressively out of one wall and baseball bats line the other, suggesting the territorial line between Canada and the U.S. The bats are incised with portraits of indigenous and foreign-born players who’ve become stars of what is seen as the iconic American pastime.

In another room, Miner has hung piñatas of historical figures, including Riel and John A. Macdonald. The effect is funny but dark, the smiley, festive look undercut by John A.’s solemn 19th-century outfit and by the morbid fact that Riel, who was hanged, is hanging.

Miner asks viewers to write their own versions of history on pieces of paper and stuff them into the backs of the piñatas. (And people seem to be responding.) He also invites viewers to take a whack at the figures with the nearby baseball bats. (So far, everyone has been too polite.)

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Every Line & Every Other Line, a group show at the Platform Centre, begins with a joke by 19th-century American artist John Singer Sargent that “a portrait is a painting with something wrong with the mouth.” Curator J.J. Kegan McFadden brings together photographic and video works by five Canadian artists in which something is deliberately, aggressively, uncomfortably “wrong” with the mouth.

A genre traditionally used for statements of social status (the swagger portraits of the 18th century) or explorations of psychological insight (the heartbreaking self-portraits of Rembrandt), portraiture takes a hard political turn in this show. By focusing on the mouth, often in extreme closeup, Every Line explores self-expression and censorship, identity and invisibility.

This is a small but dense show, with thoughtful and provocative work by Bruce Labruce, Brendan Fernandes and Arthur Renwick.

Large-scale photos from Suzy Lake’s sardonically titled series Beauty at a Proper Distance mix up conventional markers of femininity — red lipstick and dark, springing curls — with the less acceptable aspects of yellowing teeth, furrowed lines and haywire chin hairs. Lake’s self-portraits are unsparing, both for herself and for her viewer, as she dares to face the realities of age and change.

Cathy Busby’s ongoing series Sorry looks at the meaning and mythology of public apologies. Zoning in on media photos of the mouths of CEOs, religious leaders and politicians as they read statements of contrition, Busby catches fleeting — and often very revealing — micro-expressions.

The Halifax-based artist also supplies some Winnipeg content for this exhibition, highlighting Ford’s 2008 Drive It Like You Stole It advertising campaign, which backfired disastrously in our city, where car thefts often have fatal consequences.

alison.gillmor@freepress.mb.ca