121 and 222
Two shows in 2025
I've been quiet for a while because I've been getting ready for two shows in two galleries, one in Belleville, Ontario and the other in Toronto. They are both relatively small shows but I take them all seriously.
I am a guest artist sharing a space with Elizabeth Fearon at 121, a cooperative gallery in Belleville, where I am showing 16 small iPhone 11 photographs of arrangements of small objects treated as still lifes (example above). The show opens this Saturday, August 30th from 2 to 4, and runs to October 4th.
To me, it seems mildly transgressive to photograph a still life, something which is much more usually painted or drawn. My advice is, try using the wrong tool for the job.
They are also not manipulated in any way, nothing was fixed in “post”. Phone-photographs are automatic and easy, and although the technology is amazingly impressive, they nonetheless remind me of Polaroid sx70 photos. The ease of both devises creates limitations for photographers, but these shortcomings are a gateway for artists’ intentions beyond the technical considerations- think of the Polaroid work of Lucas Samaras for instance. Formal restrictions create manoeuvrability, and that’ll get you to metaphor.
For the second show, I will be with the K8N Collective at Gallery 222 in Toronto from Sept. 26 to Oct. 11, located at 222 Spadina Ave., mall concourse level. The opening reception is Saturday, September 27 from 4 to 7. Our three person artist collective consists of Elizabeth Fearon, Rupen, and me (Steve Armstrong).
I've long been interested in our perceptual process of seeing a three dimensional world. I find a rich metaphor in it that leads me to questions about knowledge, or what is knowable. This unavoidable habit of our vision seems most apparent in the ways we see a virtual third dimension on a flat surface. This is something that can be achieved with both colour dynamics or Renaissance perspective.
A line from John Donne, “At the round earth’s imagin’d corners” gave me the idea for map cubes. Thank you, Mr. Donne, and what a beautiful metaphor that is.