Toronto Outdoor Art Exhibition

Entering into its 50^th year, the Toronto Outdoor Art Exhibition is a juried showcase featuring contemporary fine art and craft that takes place annually at Nathan Phillips Square every July. As the largest juried show in Canada, TOAE is an ideal environment for established artists, undiscovered talent and creative students to sell their work to the admiring public and forge connections with art dealers and collectors.

I was fortunate enough to have had my work selected by their jury for the 2011 exhibition taking place on Nathan Phillips Square July 8, 9 and 10. I am located at Booth 306 in the Student Area of the exhibition. For a detailed floorplan of the event, please visit the Toronto Outdoor Art Exhibition Website at link. Come and visit me if you can! I hope to see many friendly faces.

Pagan Poetry

A filler illustration I completed for the Toronto Outdoor Art Exhibition while simultaneously working and researching paintings for my collective's upcoming gallery show. With Pagan Poetry, I was finally capable of balancing my purely decorative aesthetic with intellectual purpose. For an artist accustomed to carving layers of meaning into her pieces, this was a guilty pleasure. It is the harmonious combination of an elegant Greek goddess, a wooden helmet, owls, ancient stone, Gorgon beads and intricately braided corn rows .

The owl, a symbol of wisdom, was the emblem of Athena/Minerva, the goddess of war or more so the lighter side of war, 'victory'. The coin design hinted at in the background was issued in Athens in 479 B.C., after the Greeks wons decisive victories against the Persians.

Now for the tentative beginnings of Sophocles' infamous tragedy Oedipus Rex. Oedipus, as you may recall, was forsaken by his parents King Laius and Queen Jocasta of Thebes, and later unwittingly murdered his father and married his mother. When his newly begotten Queen learned of his relation to her, she committed suicide. In response, Oedipus gouged out his eyes, representing the King's dark descent into ignorance and faithlessness. My interpretation falls upon a common simile for life. Life is like a boat on an unknowable, unpredictable and vast sea. Unlike a river, an ocean has no preassigned destination. If one does not set his rudder properly he suffers a thrashing to the rocks or a watery death. We cannot navigate without a plan or destination. We must empower our own destiny. The tale of Oedipus Rex spells tragedy as the consequence of attempting to outsmart the inexorable, or fate. This is the last of the images I will show you from the upcoming gallery exhibit...the finals will make their debut at the gallery show. Stay tuned!

Black Mirror

When I was designated visual themes relating to History and Culture for my co-op exhibition, I deemed folklore an appropriate gateway to exploring archetypes and their universal, timeless presence in life, nature and society. Lately I’ve been sifting through cherished myths from a plethora of world cultures, including Scandinavia, Africa, China, Eastern Europe and South America. My third completed painting to date tells the Nordic tale of Prince Lindworm, which survives in several variations. To summarize, a childless Queen is approached by a wandering crone who offers to remedy her troubles with simple instructions. First the Queen is required to take a two handled cup and bury it on its head in her garden. The following morning, she must retrieve the forsaken cup and uncover two roses from the inside, one white, the other red. If she chooses to eat the white rose, she will give birth to a girl, if red, a boy. But under no condition should she eat both, otherwise grave, unforeseen penalties will ensue. However, at the moment of consumption, the Queen was struck by indecision and ate both. She was pregnant with a boy, as promised. But while in labor, she gave life to another entity as well…a lindworm, a hideous reptilian creature. She kept her grotesque bane of a child a secret for many years, but as he came of age, he could no longer tolerate confinement. One day as the Queen’s healthy son prepared to embark to faraway lands in search of a bride, the lindworm slithered across his path declaring, “I am the eldest, I am to be married first”. Every Princess foolishly coaxed into marrying the serpent was devoured on her wedding night. The situation of the kingdom grew desperate as the lindworm gained a notorious reputation for murdering his wives. A farmer’s young daughter was given up out of destitution to be the reptile’s latest sacrifice. Wallowing in disgust and fear for her predictable fate, the girl was approached by the same crone that aided the Queen. She gave her a blood-curdling list of responsibilities for the night of the wedding. The procedure involved the stripping of the lindworm’s multiple skins, whipping his bare flesh and bathing the wounds with milk. The bride did so, grudgingly, and managed to release the spell that imprisoned the prince in the body of a lindworm.

Fairy tales offer a moral crux by forewarning against disobedience, curiosity or immoral actions. The idea of devastating consequence drove the visual for this piece, and the archetypal mirror became my tool for conveying this premonition. Elements of the real world are horribly distorted and reinterpreted: the woman’s torque is a serpent, and the candle smoke is the spirit of an unfortunate wife being strangled. I cannot express just how much pain and pleasure was invested into the creation of this painting. Researching staple Nordic clothing, ornaments and symbols was a delight, as was my intense study of candlelit environments. The execution was scrupulous, wearisome. In the past, I would take little care into preparing my painting materials beforehand. With Prince Lindworm, my masonite board was gessoed and sanded so many times that the tooth was indistinguishable. It was a dream to paint on. I apologize for the poor quality of the photos. The painting's strong colour variation and details are completely eluded. I plan to have the piece properly scanned and framed soon! :D              

Heart of a Lion

"He that is kind is free, though he is a slave; he that is evil is a slave, though he be a king"
-St. Augustine

A circular icon of Poland's iconic Zygmunt I Stary, or as he is better known in the West, Sigismund I the Old. Sigismund I (1467-1548) of the Jagiellon dynasty reigned as King of Poland and Duke of Lithuania from 1506-1548. He was also the husband of Renaissance personality and cultural reformer, Bona Sforza. During his reign, Sigismund faced the challenge of consolidating his country's internal power in order to face larger external threats. The greatest of these outside conflicts formed part of the Muscovite Wars, whereby Poland was intermittently at war with Vasily III of Muscovy. 1514 became the year that marked the fall of Smolensk (under Lithuanian domination) to the Muscovite forces.

Apart from my admiration for Sigismund I and Eastern European history in particular, I just had the impulse to paint a king. A friend was kind enough to lend me a book on Polish nobility and kings. I quickly took inspiration from Sigismund's costume and began a quick underpainting during a nightime stretch between 2-5 AM (as always, inspiration opportunely seizes me when I should be toiling away at more pressing responsibilities). I made the mistake of experimenting with a gloss medium on hot press watercolour paper. The result? I was eventually forced to rip off the king's cheek after excessive paint build-up. It was only within the past two days that I found his forsaken, lacerated visage under a pile of paper. I decided to breathe some life into him again. This attitude is consistent with my approach to art, and for that matter, life. I don't believe in letting anything die prematurely. I have too much faith. The result shows some potential :) My first attempt at impasto.

 

Summer Co-op Sketchbook Week 3

As of this week, fellow Illustration student Rachel Idzerda and I have finally settled into our new studio space for co-op. With some adjusting and decorating, it will eventually become our summer home. The best part? It's located in one of Woodbridge's main entertainment hubs, a bowling alley! I sincerely hope that the following weeks will bring bountiful art production. Stay tuned for lots of sketch documentation.

Tiberius the Rhino was no match for the Kitchen Aquarium Shark. A songstress and her keyboard.

My wonderful cousins Olivia and Elizabeth at an Italian community event.

Mother's Day and a rainy commute.

Rachel's friend Rachelle came to model for us one day at the studio. I sat into their painting session and sketched.

Death is the Road to Awe

Hans Christian Andersen's (1805-1875), The Nightingale--a beautiful tale of redemption, pity and intense longing.

"The poor Emperor could scarcely breathe; he felt as if something were sitting on his chest; he opened his eyes and saw that it was Death, wearing the Emperor's gold crown and holding in one hand the Imperial sword and in the other the Imperial banner. All around the bed, in the folds of the velvet curtains, were strange faces--some kind, some friendly, some hideous and hateful. They were the emperor's good and evil deeds, clustered about him, as Death sat on his heart..All at once by the window, the sweetest song rang out. It was the living nightgale, sitting on a branch outside..And as she sang, the ghostly faces grew fainter and fainter; the blood began to pulse more strongly through the Emperor's feeble limbs; even Death listened in and said, 'Go on little nightingale, go on!'"

A conceptual sketch for Death and the artificial nightingale that ousts the once beloved real nightingale from the empire.

Summer Co-op Sketchbook

The beginnings of a summer co-op diary. Each sketch is a documented portrait of my whereabouts. Good friends/co-workers and family are featured, as are many rural and urban landscapes. Unfortunately, I'm unable to experiment with media in this sketchbook. The pages are waif-thin and only allow for delicate pencil lines.

"Those tend'rer tints, that shun the careless eye,
And in the world's contagious circle, die"
Anne Radcliffe (1764-1823), The Mysteries of Udolfo