This exhibition of Hiroyuki Hamada’s new sculptures comprises 11 works, both sculptures free standing and wall hanging. I hesitate to term all of the latter, “bas reliefs,” while several of the major works certainly are. And those are very similar in formulation to the free standing sculptures, although they are sans the hallmark pedestals, which stand to be part and parcel with the abstract forms they support.
Hiroyuki Hamada, #88, 2016 – 20, Painted Resin, 29 x 47 x 41″
The smaller wall hung pieces are more akin to bricolage painting; as folded, bent, and twisted scraps of what looks like metal or leather are affixed to flat, subtly toned, apparently wooden substrates. The larger works impart a distinctly Japanese aesthetic in their elegant, zen-like, and graceful simplicity of pure form; as such without any backing besides the wall -or they are free standing. What appear to be natural materials such as white or black ceramic tile, rusted iron, or stone are also displayed on bases of what look to be thoroughly rusted pipes. To be clear on this point: the artist considers these works painted sculptures. They are all constructed of synthetic materials. Hamada’s masterful use of trompe l’oeil surfacing is astounding. The rusty piping is in fact p v c and the aquiline shapes they support are carved insulation foam coated with painted plastreric resin. Polystyrenes have been popular with artists since at least the 1950s and 60s when Jean Dubuffet and Nikki de Saint Phalle first explored the then new found resource. The properties of these mediums allow for direct impulsive carving and so generally disregard the conventional sculptural necessity of pre constructing an armature or so to speak, skeleton within, thereby allowing the artist an unrestrained free hand in expression.
Hiroyuki Hamada, #100, 2023, Painted Resin, 38 x 63 x 26.5″, Base: 35 x 46 x 26.5″
Notably, Dubuffet topped off his monumental works with stucco while de Saint Phalle frequently embellished her works with mosaics. More recently others have crusted the artifice with epoxies, fiberglass, urethane putties, or other substances; then painted them in order to stave off degradation resulting from exposure to sunlight. These are industrial materials often used in construction, or automotive assembly, ship building; even for making surf boards. Significantly, pragmatic considerations have enabled artists to explore and discover various possibilities. These newfound materials were lightweight, comparatively inexpensive, and easily manipulated without the need of a foundry. If Hiroyuki Hamada’s works were composed of what they convincingly appear to be they would weigh more than could be lifted in this gallery’s elevator, or hung on its sheetrock walls. Yet there are laborious old school techniques which could enable his vision with a forge and kiln. Frankly, Hamada’s mastery of faux finishes over the coated, smoothed, and refined forms is so complete that I didn’t notice until he mentioned it. The illusionistic pragmatism is not what grabbed me. I was attracted to the work purely for its aesthetics – its elegance: the simple smooth forms which reference predecessors Isamu Noguchi and Jean Arp’s exigencies, amongst many functional designers, who modeled their modernist forms in traditional materials – whilst Hamada’s tasteful combinations of industrial supplies are not what they seem to be at all, presenting a fascinatingly duplicitous conundrum.
Hiroyuki Hamada, #108, 2025, Painted and pigmented Resin, 36.5 x 55 x 13″
Hiroyuki Hamada: New Sculpture, May 6 – June 13, 2025. Bookstein Projects, 39 East 78th Street, NYC
We had the good fortune of meeting Ed Nemeth and Nancy Parke-Taylor at a recent art opening for Steve Rockwell, the publisher of d’Art International magazine. Ed is a semi-retired pharmacologist and Nancy has currently retired from her career as a lawyer. After much chatting with Ed and Nancy, we discovered that these two lovely people had a fabulous collection of contemporary Canadian and American art. Lucky for us, we were invited to their home to see this wonderful and eclectic collection.
I must say, the house itself is a work of art, located on a beautiful street lined with large mature trees. Although the façade of the house is somewhat modern, its large open spaces are filled with paintings, photographs, sculpture, works on paper, and art books covering almost every subject one can imagine.
Ed Nemeth and Nancy Parke-Taylor with Tony Calzetta work
Upon entering the living room, your eye takes you to a beautiful painting by Toronto artist Tony Calzetta. It’s big and bold. Over the fireplace hangs an abstract by Toronto based artist Seo Eun Kim, who often goes by the name Sunny Kim. When viewed from afar, the surface of the painting resembles a needle point embroidery, when in fact, most of the surface is created by use of a baker’s piping bag.
Alcove with Barker Fairly paintings
The opposite side of the room has three lovely landscapes by Barker Fairley. The trio is serene and peaceful. To the left hangs a wonderful Harold Town single autographic print and below a landscape by Charles Comfort. And below to the left of that, a lovely Ray Mead ink abstract. Directly below the Fairleys sits a very large and quirky ceramic sculpture by David James Gilhooly. It’s fantastic and the juxtaposition of these works is so much fun. Also scattered among the table tops are intriguing metal sculptures by Santa Fe sculptor Kevin Box. Some of the pieces bring to mind origami works due to their extreme thinness and fine detail.
Ed Nemeth and a wall of abstract works
Similar to numerous collectors, Ed and Nancy’s collection comprises various pieces by the same artist, reflecting different stages of the artist’s life. Their collection features multiple works by Barker Fairley, ranging from landscapes (as depicted) to several portraits. The same goes for several pieces by Tony Calzetta from various phases of his artistic journey. A significant portion of their collection showcases multiple works by the same artist, with some displayed together while others are dispersed throughout the house, each hanging alone or in clusters in different rooms.
Robert Longo work
From here we stroll into the dining room where on one wall hangs two large scale black and white lithographs by American artist Robert Longo. The male and female are captured in a dance-like motion creating an amazing dynamism between the two.
The opposite walls are covered in a variety of black and white photographs of various individuals including two photographs by renowned photographer Sally Mann. Among this collection is one of a young girl who once adorned the cover of an issue of American Fiction magazine. There is one striking photograph by Alfred Eisenstaedt of Dr. Joseph Goebbels, Propaganda Minister of the German Third Reich. There’s a fascinating story behind this photo. After Eisenstaedt took the photograph, there was a knock on his door one evening. Fear engulfed him as he thought he would be arrested and taken away by the Gestapo but, to his surprise and complete relief, he was simply asked for a copy of the photograph for Dr. Goebbels’ personal collection.
As we leave the dining room, we walk through what I would consider a reading room filled with hundreds of art books and a fabulous Janet Cardiff abstract work of art. Such a unique piece as Cardiff is primarily known for her sound performance works and videos. Cardiff, along with George Bures Miller represented Canada at the 49th Venice Biennale in 2001. Truly an amazing find.
In this room hangs a number of photographs by Mark Hogancamp who works with toy figures, placing them in certain spaces and in certain positions in order to create a fictional city. Mark Hogancamp produced a book of his photographs titled “Welcome to Marwencol” which later became part of the idea behind the movie with Steve Carell, an American actor and comedian, called “Welcome to Marwen” released in 2018.
Belgian artist Jean Pierre Schoss blue metal sculpture
This room leads into the next which looks out into a well cared for garden. You’ll see a massive blue metal sculpture against the fence by Belgian artist Jean Pierre Schoss of Dog Bite Steel. His quirkiness and comedic appeal makes him look like a big, old friendly monster: he’s simply fabulous. Schoss uses recycled materials such as steel and creates fascinating creatures and animals. He feels the discarded material has a lot of character and always tells a life story. There are many smaller pieces scattered throughout this and other rooms. They’re very sweet and quite charming. But the outdoor monster is the best!
What is intriguing about their collection is that the arrangement of the works is perfectly curated. They appear to be positioned in a way that they all complement one another, reflecting similar themes, artistic styles, and colours harmonizing seamlessly.
What a treat it is to walk throughout the house and see works by Rita Letendre, Harold Town, Ray Mead, Barker Fairley, Robert Longo, Robert Chandler, Ian McKay, Katherine Bemrose, Steve Rockwell, Christopher Winter, Robert Marchessault, John Massey, Tim Deverell and Sally Mann, just to name a few.
A new gallery has opened in Toronto – Sheff Contemporary – located in a surprisingly airy basement on Danforth Ave. Given the number of commercial galleries that have closed in recent years, its opening is in itself something to celebrate. Its inaugural show highlights the work of Steve Rockwell. The gallery’s owner, Saeed Mohamed has known Rockwell many years, and has always been greatly impressed by his work.
The space, Mohamed explains, is important in the sense that he understands how art is ineluctably an in-person experience. Indeed, it the experiencing of art in the gallery setting that is a central idea of Rockwell’s work. At the same time, Mohamed is not committed to keeping the gallery in one location. Rather, he appreciates that it is the people – artists, audience, buyers etc. – who together are the essential elements of this experience. Art, he feels, is often elitist and he is keen, instead, to promote art in a way that makes it more relatable to the public, who like himself, may not be connoisseurs in the traditional sense. His hope is to foster an inclusive crowd of art enthusiasts who will facilitate this aim. He sees his role as providing the space and the opportunity to experience art. Certainly judging from the crowd who showed up for the opening reception, he’s off to a good start.
Installation view of Steve Rockwell Meditation on Space at Sheff Contemporary, 2025. Photo: Hugh Alcock
Rockwell’s show is about art. It is, one might say, second order art. Moreover it is a breed of conceptual art, based on performance of a peculiarly inconspicuous kind. Rockwell’s work invariably has some story behind it. For instance, in one of his black and white paintings, one confronts an image of the artist himself, arms fully spread, with bright light radiating from his torso, titled My Spirit Lives Here! (1996). Nearby is another image of him, titled Blackout, which in contrast to his effulgent self, has him shrouded in darkness – his features barely discernible.
My Spirit Lives Here! 1996, acrylic on masonite, 32 x 32 inches (Inspired by the January 2, 1996 visit to the Ernie Wolfe Gallery in Santa Monica, California). Courtesy of the artist
These two paintings are part of a series of five, on the theme of meditating on various spaces in galleries, that is ostensibly based on a story akin to that in the Bible of the conversion of Paul on the road to Damascus. A journey from the infidel’s blindness to the light of faith. But any such story line surmised by the viewer, it turns out, is post hoc. The order of the paintings was chosen long afterwards. Each is a record of some event he experienced while executing a performance he titled Meditations on Space. It involved him showing up in some reputable gallery in Switzerland, France, Toronto, Los Angeles or New York, announcing to its custodians that he was there to meditate on the gallery space. Most acquiesced and let him be. But part of the performance concerned his interactions with people and with the space itself. While in the Ernie Wolfe Gallery, Los Angeles, for instance, its owner shouted out to Rockwell ‘This is where I live. My spirit lives here!’, hence the title of the painting mentioned above.
Meditations on Space, 1996, acrylic on masonite, 32 x 32 inches (Inspired by the September 20, 1995 visit to Galerie Jamile Weber in Zurich, Switzerland). Courtesy of the artist
While these works are not literally biblical in derivation, they do touch on big questions – on life and death specifically. In Blackout we see a grainy barely discernible image of Rockwell’s face. It inspired by an episode while visiting and meditating on a gallery space when he was suddenly plunged into darkness, due to a power outage of course. In his depiction of this event Rockwell chose to render himself, despite the almost total darkness, as a comment on our perception of darkness. As Rockwell points out, normally – at night, closing our eyes etc., – we do not in fact experience total black. Instead we ‘see’ what are sometimes called phosphenes, namely internally generated patterns. The image of his face that we see imitates this experience. Only death leads to true blackness in this sense. Likewise, light is obviously associated with life. Hence Rockwell’s choice of painting in black and white – emblematic of pure light and darkness, i.e., life and death.
Blackout, 1996, acrylic on masonite, 32 x 32 inches (Inspired by the October 3, 1995 visit to Galerie Lahumiere in Paris, France). Courtesy of the artist
Rockwell’s performances on the theme of galleries goes back to about a decade earlier. In 1988 he decided to drop by at 64 of Toronto’s galleries, and ask their owners or administrators to fill out a form indicating in which direction their main entrance faces – north, east, south or west. Using the information he received he built a model, displayed on the wall, representing each gallery as a compartment on a square grid. A small aperture on the respective wall of each indicates the direction of the entrance. Here one is reminded of Sol Le Witt’s work, e.g., his permutations of the edges of a cube. The appearance of the material art object is entirely determined by the rules underwriting its construction. Indeed, Le Witt has been a major influence on Rockwell. This year Rockwell repeated the performance. In the updated version he struggled, sadly, to find 64 galleries in the city.
Gallery Space, 1988 (left) and Gallery Space 2025 (right) both house paint on mahogony panel and card, laser transfer text, 14 x 14 x 2 inches. Photo: Hugh Alcock
Rockwell’s original motive for this earlier gallery performance was to find a way to introduce himself to the various galleries, and learn how they operate. This kernel of an idea became an abiding theme for him. As well, it is illustrative of Rockwell’s entrepreneurship, his willingness to go out and introduce himself and his ideas, more importantly, to people. As testament to the footwork this performance demanded, he has chosen to encase, and thus preserve, the very pair of shoes he wore walking around the city.
Gallery Space (Shoes), 1988, acrylic, wood floor, shoes, 14 x 14 x 15 inches. Courtesy of the artist
Here we see Rockwell’s wit – humour and sharp intelligence – shining through. Although physically the work occupies a modest amount of space, it brims over with ideas and reflections on the nature of art itself. Clearly Rockwell loves art, both the making of it and as its cultural wealth. Not to be missed as well is an array of collages he has meticulously produced – small works on paper – that investigate the margins of pictures and images. Beautiful work altogether.
Installation view with collages, each 2025, dArt pages with oil, 7 x 8.5 inches. Photo: Hugh Alcock
*Exhibition information: Steve Rockwell, Meditations on Space, June 5 – 30, 2025, Sheff Contemporary, 1276 Danforth Ave, Toronto. By appointment only (416-792-7792).
byD. Dominick Lombardi, curator and participating artist
September 6 to November 16, 2025 Hammond Museum & Japanese Stroll Garden
Cary Leibowitz, Painting is Not Dead? Painting is Dead? (1998), marker on found photographs, 10 x 16 inches, 11 x 17 x 1 inches framed
Humor in Contemporary Art is a funny thing. Seriously. An exhibition with humor as its specific theme is not something you often see in galleries or museums. There have been exceptions over the years, where artists like Saul Steinberg, who straddled the two worlds of fine and commercial art with his many brilliant The New Yorker Magazine covers; and the outlandish works of Marisol Escobar and H. C. Westermann who have their own unique brand of humor, can be seen in museums throughout the world – artists that would not have been as successful without the recognition of their wit and humor. Today, some form of humor, albeit on the darker side, can be experienced in the contemporary works of numerous well known artists such as Carroll Dunham, Sarah Lucas, Barbara Kruger, Peter Saul, Erwin Wurm and last, but definitely not least, Maurizio Cattelan, who all have varying levels of dark humor in their creations.
Maurizio Cattelan, A Perfect Day (1999)
The title of this exhibition, “You Think That’s Funny?,” comes from an email conversation I had with Mike Cockrill, one of the artists in the exhibition, who has been toying with the limits of humor in art since forever. He sees humor and the extent of what can be publicly tolerated as a satisfying challenge. He, like many of the artists in the exhibition, presents us with something to make us laugh privately, but maybe feels a bit uncomfortable when expressed in the public realm.
The artists selected for this exhibition have accepted the fact that there is humor in their art. Using a variety of media, styles, references and messaging, they all have created narrative art that should make visitors at the very least smile, or at times laugh out loud. What is also important to note is the substance beyond the initial humor. Humor only goes so far, so while these artists have your attention you can appreciate the abilities and techniques used in the fabrication of their very intriguing work.
(left) Todd Colby, To the Future (2024), acrylic and mixed media on canvas, 24 x 24 inches; (right) Peregrine Honig, Wonkey Donkey (2006), pen and ink, Gum Arabic, pigment on Strathmore, 10 ½ x 10 ½ x 1 ½ inches, all images courtesy of the artists
Todd Colby uses words and images to create weirdly symbolic, diaristic mixed media collages, paintings and sticker commentary that all have substantive impact. As a poet, writer and visual artist, Colby blends an endless series of investigative thoughts and images ignited by keen observations that, when added to a common surface, shed a humorous light on the often brazen and hard to bear new realities in our current sociocultural and political landscape. Peregrine Honig also utilizes words and images to create humorous vignettes, however in this instance, Honig’s art is more specific and far more intimate. Working with pen and ink, Gum Arabic and pigment on paper, Honig presents previously innocent stuffed animals in far more mature social situations that many adults can easily relate to. In doing so, humor is maintained, but in a very different light, whereby the source of one’s distinct personality traits, positive and negative, can be traced back to one’s early days at play.
(left) Rita Valley, WTF (2019), mixed materials: silk brocade, vinyl, satin, paracord. 48 x 47 inches; (right) Norm Magnusson, Horse (2025), archival computer print, 24 x 18 inches
Rita Valley is fed up with the state of our union. Utilizing her skills with fabric and fringes, Valley gets right to the point as she confronts the viewer with familiar terms of dissent. Using fancy patterns, shiny surfaces and heavily textured accents, Valley projects a passionate belief system that is being attacked on all sides. However, at first glance, the feeling one may get from her art is one of a universal, reactionary-type of humor, pulling the viewer in, as they think more deeply about what is hounding their own worlds. The art of Norm Magnusson revals a multi-pronged approach to humor that varies between county fair controversy and lowbrow art bombs to more serious issues regarding our collective state of mind. Magnusson is a master at pairing words and images, contrasting references and recognising timely subliminal links that creep up on you unexpectedly. Magnusson constantly reminds us to stay engaged and to look at the world with both delight and suspicion.
(left) Judy Haberl,Sausages (2020-25), jewelry, pearls, sausage casings, acrylic medium, sizes variable; (right) Bret DePalma, Art Ham (2024), acrylic,collage on canvas, 48 x 48 inches
Judy Haberl grew up in a home where food was often extremely experimental, as her father advised NASA on their “food in space program…”. Her family ate “…dehydrated foods to test for edibility,” which were usually godawful, as these early experiences with laboratory food still influences her art to this day. Included in this exhibition are her humorous sausage casings filled with faux jewelry, and whitty Baby Cakes made of colored Hydrostone as she reminds us that it’s all getting too far afield from wholesome whole foods. Bret DePalma pushes his narratives well past reason. Nothing fits, yet it all works once his paintings are completed. No color, perspective, symbol or representation is off the table, as he weaves through uncharted spaces that sweep across his mind. The humor, which is very complex and layered, begins slowly and tentatively as the viewer comes to terms with what is in front of them as they wonder where all this wizardry comes from.
(left) Susan Meyer, Maggie, 2025, wood, foam, acrylic, Apoxie Sculpt, paint, 2 x 3 inches; (right) Jeff Starr, Landolakes (2024), acrylic, marker on paper, 15 x 13 inches
Susan Meyer’s sculptures have a B-movie type futuristic look to them that feels timid in one way and grandiose in another. A bold mix of emotions that gives her work a unique sort of humor that is subtle but effective. This is not to say that there is no depth here, there is, and much of it as exemplified by elements of High Modernism as a distinct placeholder, especially with respect to the aesthetic, while the presentation of materials in their curious shapes and colors adds contrasting notes of frivolity and seriousness. Jeff Starr creates mixed media paintings that feature multiplanar realities. These planes, which could not be more different, shift back and forth between an idealized ‘real world’ and an imagined astral plane that transcends what is considered normal processing of space and time. This overlapping of universes forms a visually halting transition, perhaps the way alien space travelers may perceive our world on their terms, focusing more on unknown elements we can not see, while turning the whole thing into an absurd visual conversation.
(left) Jim Kempner, The $6 Million Dollar Banana Split, video, running time 5:33; (right) Cary Leibowitz, Cubism? (1998), marker on found photograph, 8 x 10 inches, 11 ¼ x 9 ¼ x 1 ¼ inches framed
Jim Kempner, a well known, decades long art dealer on the corner of 23rd Street and 10th Avenue in New York City’s Chelsea District, is one of the more colorful individuals on the scene. A passionate purveyor of prints, sculptures, drawings and paintings, Kempner sees the humor in his daily reality and does something about it. His seven season video series, The Madness of Art, is a much needed breath of fresh air, a break from the austere atmosphere NYC gallery’s too often project when coming face to face with the general public. Cary Leibowitz uses words masterfully, and we never know if he is being cheeky or in the middle of a crippling crisis. Or is it both? Either way, Leibowitz’s art will forever stir things up by disrupting the viewer’s typical train of thought. Whether it’s cute stuffed animals, symbolic ceramics, intricately cut placards, pennants, paintings, shopping bags or an all out outdoor installation, Leibowitz leaves us with an indelibly blazing, bold and unexpected mark on many things searingly sociopolitical to the brilliantly benign.
(left) Mike Cockrill, The Door (2013), acrylic on canvas, 46 x 36 inches; (right) Mary Bailey, Pox – Let’s Go Viral (2025), wood, acrylic paint, 5 x 2 ½ x ⅞ inches
Mike Cockrill’s art portrays feelings of hopelessness, futility, ecstasy or enlightenment. Using easily recognizable figures like clowns and the typical office worker stuck on a never ending wheel to nowhere, Cockrill strikes at the heart of the circumstances he presents in ways that will make the viewer smile or laugh at first, until the weight of the situation breaks through. After that, it’s back to the humor in a continuous cycle of responses that would never be as potent if not for the clever, straightforward, high quality of Cockrill’s art. Mary Bailey’s primary medium is painted or scribed wood that, when messages or symbols are added, has anywhere from unique tinges of Surrealism to a persuasive form of Pop. In her most recent series of symbolic cigarette packages, Bailey sends powerful socio-political statements utilizing her own brand of dark humor to make her point, concerns that are growing more and more troubling every new day. In the end, Bailey dives deep into realities that are best served with a little humor or all is lost.
(left) Cathy Wysocki,Expeller of Erroneous Thought (2022) acrylic, collage, sand, glitter, beads on canvas 20 x 16 inches; (right) D. Dominick Lombardi, CC 113 UC (The Impossibility of a Skinned Knee) (2021), sand, papier-mâché, gesso, acrylic medium and objects, 11 1/2 x 12 x 9 inches
Cathy Wysocki makes art that swings back and forth between fear and fantasy. Wild colors and crazy narratives somehow make everything oddly copacetic. The limits of which are stretched to the breaking point in every imaginable way. Hideous/Beauteous comes to mind here as Wysocki weaves her way through highly textured surfaces where emotions run raw and rampant propelled by a limitless and lively aesthetic. Very often in my paintings and sculptures, humor is presented as a prompt or a reward for looking at the art. With the sculpture CC 113 UC (The Impossibility of a Skinned Knee) (2021), I take a shot at the art world in general, and Damian Hirst specifically by making reference to his most famous early work The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living (1991) where a tiger shark is suspended in a clear glass and steal tank filled with a 5% solution of formaldehyde.
Seeing the description for Sylvia Galbraith’s Loretta’s Place in the catalogue for CONTACT 2025 I was hooked right away. Then I received an email from Abbozzo Gallery promoting Galbraith’s exhibition and the image looked as though it was in 3D—projected on the wall of the gallery. But when I finally visited the gallery, I saw the actual artwork—a large photograph on the main wall. I stood rooted in front of it, forgetting about the place and time— I just floated into its magic world.
There are two different worlds combined into that one image of a rather abandoned looking room with a bed frame, as though someone had just departed or the room was waiting for a new occupant. There is a rug on the floor and wood we expect to see on the floor now on the ceiling. But what makes this image unique is the upside-down landscape on the walls. Galbraith used a camera obscura when photographing the landscapes in Newfoundland, so the inverted images are inverted. But it is much more than that. Neither the room nor the rural landscape is interesting in its own. However, through combining them in this way, they undergo a metamorphosis. The interior opens and the landscape becomes part of the room, but not like a picture on the wall. Grass grows, buildings emerge, and we no longer know when the inside ends and the outside begins. Inside and outside become one, a mesmerizing symbiosis.
The Exhibition Statement mentions that the artist was “particularly interested in relationships between buildings and people”. However, none the photographs include people. Galbraith talks about people in their absence, like poetry does. The objects and landscapes resemble history, social status and there are real landscapes in their physicality. But what is physical? Can it be modified by our perception or even by the technique of the camera obscura? When does reality end and our dreams and memories start filling the place? In these photographs you can no longer separate them, they merge, creating an illusion that overshadows any possible reality. Looking at them you find yourself in a very different world, where interior and exterior no longer exist; an ethereal place has been created.
The title of the exhibition What Time Is This Place?, is very important. The photographs depict the rural landscape of Newfoundland in reality, as an outpost with common buildings. How do those people get here? Why? Is it an escape or a conscientious choice? Do they fit in or misplaced? We can guess their history, past and present and their social status. In Loretta’s Place the bottom of the walls in the room are sky-blue, the landscape is green, the buildings are yellow and white while the floor, the bed and the ceiling are dark, creating a dramatic contrast. The bed made me think of possible interactions between objects and people. It is just the frame, hinting at the absence of a person. But what does an absence really mean? Years ago, when I moved into my apartment, there was abandoned furniture in it that an old person left behind. For some time, I felt the presence of him, like a imprint of his memory was still there. The same is true for Galbraith photographs. Loretta might be a poor person, in a small, rural place, who still needs to buy a mattress and bed clothes. Very little else can fit into that tiny place. I think she is somewhat misplaced. This room can’t be the place she dreamed about.
Gary’s Place, Living Room (2019) is a comfortable space with a couch and framed pictures on the wall, that are overlapped with the landscape. A piano at the wall suggests that he is a music lover. His story is very different from Loretta’s. I am aware that I am creating my own narrative here, and I am sure everyone else will do the same. It is a good thing to be so deeply involved in the image.
Some of the photographs give away their locations, like Main Road with Boats and Butterflies (2022), where the landscape is dominant. It is a nicely painted room with an antique lamp and books on a dresser, suggesting that the person who lives in it can afford beautiful, expensive things. The landscape depicts a harbor and a more populated area, a village or a small town. Butterflies fly out of the landscape, further confusing the viewer about where the landscapes ends and the interior takes over. The ceiling is another photograph that looks like a rock with some grass. It is not easy to decipher what we see or where we are.
Morning in the Red Cliffe Kitchen (2024), located in a town, where the only thing you can see is the wall and windows of the neighboring building, giving me the feeling of a suffocating, little space. Everything is old—almost grandmotherly—the stove, the couch, covered with a blanket, a chair with a pillow, the lace curtain. As in all Galbraith’s photographs, the colors are important. The vibrant reddish brown on the left contrasts the white stove, the shining kettle and the white fence, creating a quiet interior.
Each photograph combines the inside of a living area with the surrounding landscape, focusing on the interaction between them. Every place has a strong impact on the people occupying them. Our personality is formed by our surroundings, whether it’s a busy city with noisy traffic or the countryside with a lake or ocean. According to that we become busy, hurried or eccentric, peaceful.
Our influence on the landscape can be positive or hurtful. I also believe that we may influence the buildings we live in. Whatever we do—work, cook or play the piano—our happiness or sadness leave a print on the walls and our memories live on in them. These photographs capture these ideas beautifully. As gallery manager, Blake Zigrossi said, they are more than photographs, they are “meta-photographs”, metaphors of our life.
Sylvia Galbraith, What Time Is This Place?, May 9 – June 7, 2025, Abbozzo Gallery, 401 Richmond Street West, Suite 128, Toronto. Gallery hours: Tue – Fri 11am – 6pm, Sat 11am – 5pm.
