A Visit to the Capital: Washington DC, The National Portrait Gallery of the Smithsonian Institution

by Roy Bernardi

A trip to the Capital is incomplete without visiting the National Portrait Gallery of the Smithsonian Institution located at 8th and G Streets NW in Washington, DC, even for those who may not have a keen interest in art and culture.

If you could only choose one museum to visit among the many in Washington DC, this would undoubtedly be the one to prioritize. The structure itself is not just a spectacular building but also a remarkable museum. The National Portrait Gallery stands as a significant institution in Washington. It boasts a collection of over 26,000 works featuring renowned historical and contemporary figures. President Abraham Lincoln marked his second inauguration in the Great Hall. 

LEFT; Gilbert Stuart (1755-1828) George Washington (1732-1799) 1st President of the United States, 1789-1797, 1797 oil on canvas 95 × 59-13/16 inches.

RIGHT; George Peter Alexander Healy (1813-1894) Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865) 16th President of the United States, 1861-1865, 1869 oil on canvas 73-3/4 × 55-5/8 inches
LEFT; Gilbert Stuart (1755-1828) George Washington (1732-1799) 1st President of the United States, 1789-1797, 1797 oil on canvas 95 × 59-13/16 inches. RIGHT; George Peter Alexander Healy (1813-1894) Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865) 16th President of the United States, 1861-1865, 1869 oil on canvas 73-3/4 × 55-5/8 inches

Historically, the building was home to the nation’s founding documents and functioned as a site for government offices and public collections. In the 1950s, it narrowly escaped demolition and was revitalized as part of the Smithsonian following a comprehensive renovation from 1962 to 1968. A further renovation occurred in 2006, which introduced a distinctive feature that is highly favoured by guests: the Robert and Arlene Kogod Courtyard. This building is among the oldest public structures in Washington. In summary, the historic edifice is nothing short of magnificence. 

I had the opportunity to visit the museum with Elizabeth Diane White, a resident of Washington and the author of the book “55, Underemployed, and Faking Normal.” Upon our arrival at the museum, a fortunate group of eight, myself included, was granted the privilege of a private tour of the collection, which was conducted by a silver haired woman who’s insights revel the hidden stories and quiet wonder surrounding each piece of art. She was not only knowledgeable about the collection but also exhibited great enthusiasm in recounting stories about some of the featured portraits. It was genuinely delightful to listen to her.

Elaine de Kooning (1918-1989) John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) 35th President of the United States, 1961-1963, 1963 oil on canvas 102 × 44 inches
Elaine de Kooning (1918-1989) John F. Kennedy (1917-1963) 35th President of the United States, 1961-1963, 1963 oil on canvas 102 × 44 inches

Undoubtedly, the Presidential portraits are the most popular artworks in the museum. They feature every president from George Washington to the current president, Donald J. Trump. Notably, both Trump and Joe Biden do not have a painting/portrait of themselves but do have their photographs displayed on the walls. When asked about the lack of paintings for Trump and Biden in the collection, our tour guide responded, “that’s a very good question, one that I asked myself,” and clarified that portraits are only created after a president has completed their term in office. Joe Biden’s portrait is currently being painted. It is fascinating that one of the most frequently asked about presidential portraits is that of John F. Kennedy, painted by Elaine de Kooning, the wife of the famous abstract expressionist artist Willem de Kooning (1904-1997). Kennedy’s portrait is significant for being the first to break away from the traditional, photorealistic style. Another noteworthy painting is that of Richard M. Nixon, created by the beloved American artist Norman Rockwell, which was actually painted in the year he was elected president. This may have been his tactic to gain the trust of the American public and a way to support his election campaign. Nixon later donated the portrait to the museum, ensuring it would serve as a lasting tribute to himself among the other presidents that came before him. President George H. W. Bush and President George W. Bush were the first father and son to both serve as presidents of the United States. 

Norman Rockwell (1894-1978) Richard M. Nixon (1913-1994) 37th President of the United States, 1969-1974, 1968 oil on canvas 18 × 26 inches
Norman Rockwell (1894-1978) Richard M. Nixon (1913-1994) 37th President of the United States, 1969-1974, 1968 oil on canvas 18 × 26 inches
Chuck Close (1940-2021) William J. Clinton (1946-       ) 42nd President of the United States, 1993-2001, 2006 oil on canvas 108 × 84 inches
Chuck Close (1940-2021) William J. Clinton (1946-       ) 42nd President of the United States, 1993-2001, 2006 oil on canvas 108 × 84 inches
LEFT; Ronald N. Sherr (1952 - 2022) George H. W. Bush (1924-1918) 41st President of the United States, 1989-1993, 1994-1995 oil on canvas 58-1/2 x 43-1/2 x 5 inches.

RIGHT; Robert A. Anderson (1946-      ) George W. Bush (1946-        ) 43rd President of the United States, 2001-2009, 2008 oil on canvas 52-1/8 x 36-1/2 inches.
LEFT; Ronald N. Sherr (1952 – 2022) George H. W. Bush (1924-1918) 41st President of the United States, 1989-1993, 1994-1995 oil on canvas 58-1/2 x 43-1/2 x 5 inches. RIGHT; Robert A. Anderson (1946-      ) George W. Bush (1946-        ) 43rd President of the United States, 2001-2009, 2008 oil on canvas 52-1/8 x 36-1/2 inches

William (Bill) Clinton’s portrait, created by the innovative American conceptual portrait artist Chuck Close, immediately captures attention upon entering the room due to its striking contemporary style and impressive size. Its rich, powerful colours almost sparkle and radiate with a sense of exuberance. In contrast, Barack Obama’s portrait, painted by American portrait artist Kehinde Wiley, evokes multiple meanings that can be interpreted differently by each viewer. For instance, as one observes Obama’s hands, they appear larger than life, symbolizing the burden and weight of caring for the world. The foliage that surrounds him may represent the evolution and fragility of life itself as an ever-growing entity.

Kehinde Wiley (1977-      ) Barack Obama (1961-       ) 44th President of the United States, 2009-2017, 2018 oil on canvas 84 x 58 inches
Kehinde Wiley (1977-      ) Barack Obama (1961-       ) 44th President of the United States, 2009-2017, 2018 oil on canvas 84 x 58 inches

The museum exudes an eerie atmosphere, resonating with the spirits of the lives captured within the portraits, each possessing its own narrative of triumph or sorrow. As you meander through the corridors and rooms, filled exclusively with an array of portraits ranging from the renowned to the obscure, from inventors to innovators, from affluent individuals to the less fortunate, from musicians to sports icons, from centuries past to the current century, and spanning every facet of life, you can genuinely sense and unconsciously feel their presence. One of the most remarkable pieces currently on view is the portrait of Toni Morrison by American artist Robert McCurdy, an oil on canvas that boasts such meticulous detail it resembles a photograph. Upon viewing the portrait, my lovely guide to Washington Elizabeth Diane White promptly requested to have her photograph taken alongside the painting. As a woman of colour, she shares a connection with Toni Morrison, who was also a writer and a significant influence in her life. It is fascinating how various portraits can evoke different responses in different individuals.

Edward Hughes (1832-1908) Juliette Gordon Low (1860-1927),1887 oil on canvas 52-1/2 x 37-7/8 inches
Edward Hughes (1832-1908) Juliette Gordon Low (1860-1927),1887 oil on canvas 52-1/2 x 37-7/8 inches
LEFT; Julius Rolshoven (1858-1930) Carol Mitchell Phelps Stokes (1875-1962), circa 1900 oil on canvas 54-1/8 × 44-3/4 inches.

RIGHT; Julius Rolshoven (1858-1930) Anson Phelps Stokes (1874-1958), circa 1900 oil on canvas 54-1/8 × 44-3/4 inches
LEFT; Julius Rolshoven (1858-1930) Carol Mitchell Phelps Stokes (1875-1962), circa 1900 oil on canvas 54-1/8 × 44-3/4 inches. RIGHT; Julius Rolshoven (1858-1930) Anson Phelps Stokes (1874-1958), circa 1900 oil on canvas 54-1/8 × 44-3/4 inches

A portrait that our museum guide particularly admired was that of Juliette Gordon Low, created by the British Victorian artist Edward Hughes, renowned for his royal portraits, including one of Queen Mary in 1895. The guide recounted the poignant story of Juliette’s life, which ultimately led her to establish the Girl Scouts of the United States of America. Born into a socially and financially prominent Southern family, Juliette married the affluent cotton merchant William Mackay Low, whom she regarded as her true love, on December 21, 1886. However, their marriage was marred by William’s frequent travels to Warwickshire, England, where he began an affair with actress Anna Bateman. In 1901, William’s request for divorce shocked society, leaving Juliette heartbroken as she returned to America. There, she encountered William Baden-Powell, the founder of the Boy Scouts, which inspired her to create the American Girl Guides. Tragically, before the divorce could be finalized, William passed away from a seizure while traveling with his mistress. On March 12, 1912, Juliette registered the first troop of American Girl Guides, consisting of 18 girls, which was later renamed the Girl Scouts in 1913.

Elizabeth Diane White (Author and Entrepreneur) at the National Portrait Gallery in Washington, DC posing in front of Robert McCurdy (1952-       ) Untitled (Toni Morrison 1931-2019), 2006, oil on canvas 73 x 68 inches.
Elizabeth Diane White (Author and Entrepreneur) at the National Portrait Gallery in Washington, DC posing in front of Robert McCurdy (1952-       ) Untitled (Toni Morrison 1931-2019), 2006, oil on canvas 73 x 68 inches

The staff at the National Portrait Gallery are exceptionally kind and eager to assist you in locating any portrait you might be seeking. I inquired about the portraits created by the Detroit-born artist Julius Rolshoven, of which the museum possesses two in its collection. Rolshoven painted a portrait of Anson Phelps Stokes, a prosperous American merchant, banker, and property developer, as well as a portrait of philanthropist Carol Mitchell Phelps Stokes. Unfortunately, these works are currently stored away and not on display, but they were generous enough to provide me with images of them. I was genuinely impressed by their willingness to help me find a portrait of interest. An interesting remark was also made; I was informed that 90% of the collection is in storage, although it is rotated frequently.

Allan Rand: Painting that Questions the Law as a Uniform Enforcer of Conformity

by Chunbum Park

Icon for Safe Passage across the Seas (2025), 45 x 67.5 cm, Abalone shell, iridescent medium, acrylic, gesso on cotton (t-shirt fragment), cheesecloth and wood board.
Allan Rand, Icon for Safe Passage across the Seas (2025), 45 x 67.5 cm, Abalone shell, iridescent medium, acrylic, gesso on cotton (t-shirt fragment), cheesecloth and wood board

Allan Rand’s solo exhibition titled, “Transportation,” at YveYang is an earnest exploration of painting in all of its conceptual, material, and formal dimensions. How does Rand treat painting as a material and aesthetic object rather than an illustrational endeavor? This is a body of work, which Rand began as he researched the subjects sent to the penal colony of Australia, where he currently lives (he is from Denmark). The artist exhibits an ideological affinity for egalitarian and progressive thought that questions the state power and the oppressive nature of the law by the nature of its uniformity.

To an uninformed eye, “Icon for Safe Passage across the Seas” (2025) could be literally seen as a t-shirt fragment pasted onto a cotton stretched onto a wooden board. However, the work expands the material vocabulary, substituting the large brush work with the pasting of the fabric, which then becomes this wide expanse of a turbulent sea. The use of iridescent medium invokes the mysterious quality of the light of the celestial bodies visible in the night sky (perhaps within the eye of a hurricane or typhoon), as in J. M. W. Turner’s paintings. The work is very much a post-minimalist type that asks the viewer to give more in order to receive. It neither illustrates nor gives in a literal fashion; the work is highly abstract and minimal, asking the viewer to settle into the quietness of the painting and to ask questions within a slow, meditational-style state of mind.

What are we looking at? Is this representational or abstract, or both? Is this a cropping of a life-sized portrait or a scene cut from an expansive landscape? Are the colors staying consistent, or are they flipping between warm and cool colors, and what does this mean for the painting? The use of abalone shell glitter alongside the iridescent paint material is highly symbolic, conjuring up the idea or the metaphor of a defensive shell that protects a treasure-like core. Furthermore, the flipping of hues suggests the artist’s inclination to seek freedom and to resist conformity or uniformity. A lot is being said, and a great deal needs to be heard, despite the silent nature of this painting.

Allan Rand, Stoop Culture (for B.B.) (2025), 64.4 x 33.2 cm, Oil, emulsion, watercolour, charcoal, chalk pencil, coloured pencil, oil pencil, gesso, acrylic, brick pigment, acrylic (gold metallic), on burlap, linen, calico and wood panel.
Allan Rand, Stoop Culture (for B.B.) (2025), 64.4 x 33.2 cm, Oil, emulsion, watercolour, charcoal, chalk pencil, coloured pencil, oil pencil, gesso, acrylic, brick pigment, acrylic (gold metallic), on burlap, linen, calico and wood panel

A favorite in the show could be “Stoop Culture (for B.B.)” (2025), which the artist began off a story that he had heard of a building in the West Village of Manhattan that had its front facade fall off during a hurricane. Rand also heard stories of a demi-monde badger game taking place in another building, where extortionists had men lured by women into having sexual intercourse with them and then exposed the men through the setup by kicking down the door (and entering at the moment of climax). Rand’s work does not involve illustration in a literal fashion, but combines the two buildings into an atemporal archetype that stands outside a particular reference to a time within a linear or historical timeline. The narrative elements manifest as lines of charcoal, gently colored with passionate, rosy, and warm pinks and hot burnt siennas, some of which are made with ground-up bricks that originate from the Australian prisons.

This is the contradiction of Rand’s work – he positions the criminal figures in the story as the protagonists , like the movie “Ocean’s Eleven,” rather than automatically condemning them. This tendency of Rand’s to question the uniform requirement of the law, for everyone to obey the law and to not question it, could serve as a healthy dose of counter narrative or non-conformity against easy condemnation and judgment. Similar to how Philip Guston tried to understand the KKK by depicting himself as one, Rand feels the need to investigate the inner workings of the criminal mindset and psyche and thereby positions them within his own imaginative framework as the protagonists and the self. It is akin to method acting, in which the artist positions himself as true to the roles of his story, whether they are the “good” or “bad” characters.

It is this flipping of color, value, or perspective, which gives us the hint that Rand’s art is actively trying to understand… He is attempting to comprehend criminality in relation to the law and the subjectivity of the criminals. This understanding for the criminals involves the psychological, and the qualitative and quantitative complexity of and the subjective reasons for the criminal acts and the subjecthood of the criminals themselves. The complexity could manifest as a graph or a spectrum (in terms of the degree and the nature of the crime, whether petty or severe, and the person’s situational difficulty). (The law would be Procrustean if it treated petty and severe crimes with similar or same sentencing beyond the seas.)

What is justice if we are not allowed to question and challenge it? The bedrock for Rand is the need to understand the subjectivity and the shared humanity… or the need to respect criminals as human beings, despite their denigrated status and their denied humanity. This is the kind of painting and the accompanying dialogue that we should all learn to appreciate, despite their demanding nature… which requires bravery and honesty from us for ourselves… for the sake of truth, whichever that may be.

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

Steve Rockwell at Sheff Contemporary

by Hugh Alcock

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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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).