You Think That’s Funny?

by D. 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
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)
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
(left) Todd Colby, To the Future (2024), acrylic and mixed media on canvas, 24 x 24 inches; (right) Peregrine Honig, Wonky 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
(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 reveals 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
(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 witty 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
(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
(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 galleries 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
(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) Cathay 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
(left) Cathay 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 steel tank filled with a 5% solution of formaldehyde.

Adam Niklewicz, ERWIN (2024), cardboard box, rubber boot, 30 x 12 x 14 inches
Adam Niklewicz, ERWIN (2024), cardboard box, rubber boot, 30 x 12 x 14 inches

Adam Niklewicz joins the fun with ERWIN (2024), an homage to the outrageous sculptures and photographs of Erwin Wurm. Like Wurm, Niklewicz often pairs absurdly unlike objects in penetrating ways to twist, confuse and delight – it’s physical comedy in 3D, yet there is something deeper and darker looming in the unconscious here. It’s called unencumbered imagining, free association, the ability to literally think outside the box and get excited about some of the most banal objects of the day-to-day.

Gary Michael Dault: A Self Interview

“…but it is extremely difficult to watch oneself working….”

                       –Xavier deMaistre, Voyage Around My Room, 1794.

Q: When did you first paint?

A: In 1952, when I was twelve. My friend, Robert Nunn and I walked to the edge of the St. Lawrence river (we lived in Kingston) and despoiled a canvas board each. His despoiling was better than mine; his painting was bolder, louder and more decisive than mine.  He was a barely pubescent Vlaminck or Derain. My painting was timid, abashed.  It was a timidity, a diffidence, I then set about to outgrow.

Q: When did you first exhibit?

A: In lots of momentary, glancing-blow places, but my first SERIOUS exhibition was in 1983, at the Jane Corkin Gallery in Toronto.  It was a big show of works on Paper. I was forty-three and in the throes of teaching and writing about art—other peoples’ art. 

Writer turned painter: Gary Michael Dault; the former art critic for The Star; shown here with his painting Burnished Day or Conch Of The Voice (mixed media; 1983) opened his one-man show at the Jane Corkin Gallery yesterday. The show runs until April 23.
Writer turned painter: Gary Michael Dault; the former art critic for The Star; shown here with his painting Burnished Day or Conch Of The Voice (mixed media; 1983) opened his one-man show at the Jane Corkin Gallery yesterday. The show runs until April 23.

Q: Let’s jump ahead about 40 years. How did your summer-long exhibition at the Periphery come about?

A: Entirely through the kindness and courtliness—the agency—of architect, artist and musician Dimitri Papatheodorou, for whom the Periphery is both a country home and a six-acre estate-wide workshop near the pastoral, pixilated village of Warkworth, Ontario.  Papatheodorou describes the Periphery as a landscape containing visual art, music, performance and architecture, seeing it as a “time-based project” where he pursues his painting (in the exquisite new studio he has recently designed and had built) and, in a spacious gallery next to it, mounts summer-long exhibitions of some artist whose work he likes (last summer’s exhibition was of paintings by Toronto-based artist Greg Angus).

Q: What makes up your Periphery exhibition?

A: It’s in two parts. The first is a small retrospective, a mounting of a dozen works on paper from 2005 to 2015. The second part, titled Passatempi, Painting in the Meantime, is a wall-sized array of about 75 recent small paintings (acrylic with collage) on rough hunks of raw cardboard, some of them (my favourites) only a few inches wide.

Q: What are they like?

A: They’re muscular and messy, wildly gestural, impatient, ecstatic, frenetic and as far as I’m concerned, almost unbearably beautiful. They make my chest tight.

Q: They are, as you say, awfully small.  Why?

A: Because they are painted on very small pieces of throwaway cardboard—distaff, disreputable, ignoble shardsof cardboard, a lot of which come to me as the wrappings around books I’ve ordered or the boxes some foodstuffs like pasta come in.  I save them all for painting.  I love cardboard.  I like its used look. It has a history.

Q: When do you paint?

A: Between writing poems.  Which is to say, all the time.

Q: How long do you spend on a painting?

A: About 2-3 minutes.  5 minutes tops.

Q: What’s the rush?

A: I’m getting old.  I’m eighty-five now.

Q: That’s the reason?

A: Nah.  In fact, I’ve always worked that way.  Back in 2010, when I was exhibiting my 1 Minute Cereal Box Landscapes everywhere, each one of them took me only a minute apiece.  I’d make a whole exhibition in an hour.  Labouring over a painting is okay, I guess, if you’re Magritte or somebody.

Q: What do you like about these rapid-fire cardboards?

A: Their hecticity, the rush of them, the meaning (sometimes august, symbolic and even mythic) that always—always—emerges from them.  Not one of them is ever non-representational.  And yet not one of them knows where it’s going when it starts out.

Q: What if you make a mistake?

A: I can’t.  If a painting begins not to work—to bore me, for example—I subject it to some cleansing, cataclysmic event, like a sluicing of white paint—and then I start in to fix it.  I haven’t lost one yet.   

Q:  How did you decide on their installation?

A: Dimitri did that. He’s an architect. He has a perfect sense of form.

Gary Michael Dault

July 16, 2025

Peter Templeman: Into the Void

by Steve Rockwell

Peter Templeman, Petroglyphs, 2024, acrylic on panel, 16 x 20 inches (40.5 x 51 cm)
Peter Templeman, Petroglyphs, 2024, acrylic on panel, 16 x 20 inches (40.5 x 51 cm)

In his exhibition at the Christopher Cutts Gallery, Peter Templeman, having gone “Into the Void” returns here with the painted evidence of his journey. “Big Phase No. 5” (1997), an oil on canvas measures 72 x 84 inches, and the appropriately named acrylic on canvas “Wheel” (2022), at a mere eight inches square, serve as bookends to Templeman’s odyssey. The 2024 acrylic on panel, “Petroglyphs” have the qualities of an Egyptian cartouche, its “hieroglyphs” enclosed within their customary oval. Cryptic, yet conversely transparent, the panel amounts to an artist signature or seal, somehow punctuating his work as official – as if carved in stone.

Peter Templeman, Phase No. 2, 1997, oil on canvas, 72 x 60 inches (183 x 152.5 cm)
Peter Templeman, Phase No. 2, 1997, oil on canvas, 72 x 60 inches (183 x 152.5 cm)

Centrepieces of the “Into the Void” works are four major paintings that Christoper Cutts acquired subsequent to a late 1990s visit to the artist studio. After decades in storage, these were combined and displayed here with contemporary works from Templeman’s studio. A visit by the artist by the artist to the Cutts Gallery this past winter tweaked a reminder of the stored works, thereby kicking its exhibition wheel into full gear. The “Phase Series (No. 2, No. 3, No. 4, and Big Phase No. 5)” are significant paintings in Templeman’s oeuvre. Besides their relative scale to the rest of the exhibition, they exemplify a successful synthesis of control and abandonment. Templeman’s painterly forays into his “void” divide variously into the more or less ordered. His “Paintings 1 – 9” as a group, paints the abyss as roiled chaos. His 2014 “Rocking on the High Seas” has the artist steering directly into the eye of the storm.

Peter Templeman, Rocking on the High Seas, 2014, oil on canvas, 24 x 18 inches (61 x 45.5 cm)
Peter Templeman, Rocking on the High Seas, 2014, oil on canvas, 24 x 18 inches (61 x 45.5 cm)

An unflinching resolve to go to the wall with each painterly outing is typical fare with Templeman. Relatively early in the artist’s career, the French Symbolist literature of Gide, Rimbaud and Beaudelaire, had primed the young artist to a receptivity of the unconscious realm. The “wall,” seemingly without exception here, is the dark unknown, against which every scumbled brush stroke gleams. In geologic terms, “Big Phase No. 5” may be seen as a motherlode, the artist’s repository of countless layers of paint. Their formation amounts to the congeal of phantasms into ever-shifting tectonic plates of pigment. Through a kind of alchemy, the deposit of everyday sight and sound minutiae is made precious in the act of having been made visible.

Peter Templeman, Big Phase No. 5, 1997, oil on canvas, 72 x 84 inches (183 x 213.5 cm)
Peter Templeman, Big Phase No. 5, 1997, oil on canvas, 72 x 84 inches (183 x 213.5 cm)

Templeman’s 2014 oil on panel ,”The Void,” features a window or portal. The viewer, once entered, is drawn into a vortex where tumult is the price of admission. The effect is one of tunnelling, amplifying a sense of dimension within dimensions. Here the artist is possibly throwing us the key to his creative “tripping,” with some of the GPS signposts along the way. Its loosely brushed “O” shape around the window hub might suggest the Greek last letter omega. Regardless, a sense of the cosmic is inferred with the artist stretching his craft to an existential limit. The 2015 canvasses such as “Top Knot” and “Physual” read as an interlacing of enigmatic glyphs. As syllabic utterances that coalesce, they exemplify the body of works where Templeman has tamed his tempests.

Peter Templeman, The Void, 2014, oil on panel, 42 x 36 inches (106.5 x 91.5 cm)
Peter Templeman, The Void, 2014, oil on panel, 42 x 36 inches (106.5 x 91.5 cm) 

With a 50-year-long career and many artists of note that Templeman has rubbed shoulders with, a consistency of development and vision predominates. While Graham Coughtry had impacted the artist as a student, Toronto’s Three Schools of Art introduced him to the art of John MacGregor, who’s improvisational surrealist method provided a significant building block. Templeman’s now distinct brushed iconography is part of a connective abstract tradition that threads generations.

Hiroyuki Hamada: New Sculpture

by Christopher Hart Chambers

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"
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"
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, #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

An Afternoon with Collectors Ed Nemeth and Nancy Parke-Taylor

by Roy Bernardi and Jennifer Leskiw

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
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
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
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
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
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.