Tag: ontario

A Rib Looks Like a Shoreline: Colin W. Davis at Between Pheasants Contemporary

Review May 12, 2022

By Alex Gregory

The romantic urban dream of starting a commune, or quaintly living in cottage country, differs greatly from the reality of maintaining a prosperous farm. Such urban perceptions of rural living can seem out of touch, as country life comes with a responsibility to the land and to maintaining community values. This reinforces gendered expectations because, even with modern machinery, the success and economic prosperity of farming, forestry, mining, etc., requires immense physical labour that is stereotypically associated with cis-gender men. Additionally, rural activities such as fishing, hunting or dirt biking require grit, and facilitate a type of camaraderie that is associated with “bro-culture.” 

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To Move; To Struggle; To Live;

Response December 20, 2021

By Kalina Nedelcheva


To Move; To Struggle; To Live;
Unspeakable truths— Capture my soul, It is negation;
I'm drowning, Twisted in thoughts of a present singularity That is a sovereign to my being.
Searching for a mediation between What is right and what is wrong— It exists in the crevices:
Beauty and the grotesque I am told these are universal truths, Of reality.
But they are absent, Like bird songs in winter; Reverberations of hope—
Unknown; To me, they are Escaping my ego which is
Broken. Lost in translation. Dead.
Are these abject apologies Truth or Lies
That ring in my ears… Is it my comfort, That stops the heart;
Belonging to those who struggle? Weighted down by all that is known? Venerated spectres
It is impossible For the cruel and insidious, The holy and benevolent that transition
To follow these narratives These spectacles of chaos… To the depths of the psyche
One relies on destruction, Resonating loudly, Like a cacophony of crumbling realities
To create meaning… Is to captivate; A distraction wasted on
The Drowned; The Saved— The human and nature;
There is no difference Only devastating similarities The sameness of the damned;
As moments Are captured, Histories are written, they are
Passing through time, unnoticed; Screaming for remembrance;
Unmarked and unidentified. They swirl like typhoons; But no one notices…
The ugliness diverts the eyes, Intertwined in devastation— We move on,
Change course; Somewhere close to truth again We forget who we are;
No one wants to look in detail Into the chasm Of human origin,
Because there lies the promise of Resilience; We don't know what to make of it
self-destruction Is The only answer—
A ticking bomb, Waiting… To erase;
Waiting to implode; To take my captured soul with it, And forget;
To devastate, Those who are left are Negations that propel you to oblivion,
And the only thing that stands in the way— Expecting The rejuvenation of life is
time. A return of what is lost. Gone.
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A Taxonomy of Strangers: Libby Oliver’s Soft Shells

Review November 24, 2021

By Tyler Muzzin

The photographs in Libby Oliver’s series Soft Shells engender the same paradoxical nature that the title implies: they are portraits that conceal the subject, while revealing more about the subject’s individuality than most portrait photography could ever hope to achieve. Exhibited at Gallery Stratford, on the edge of the Shakespeare Festival grounds and a short walk from one of the most celebrated costume departments in Canadian theatre, it’s only fitting to quote Jaques’ well-worn prologue to Act II of As You Like It as an epigraph: 

“All the world’s a stage, / And all the men and women merely players;”

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Grounding at the Art Gallery of Guelph

Review October 20, 2021

By Juilee Raje

While a second provincial lockdown was looming around the corner last winter, my mother and I managed to squeeze in one last visit to the Art Gallery of Guelph. The thrill of getting to see a few exhibitions in person (rather than the tiresome ordeal of clicking through virtual shows online) was much needed. We were restless to get out of the house, the days melting together more insistently than ever. Though I revisited the gallery a few times after, and with different people, this exhibition still sticks prominently in my mind as “the one where we tried to experience an olfactory installation while wearing masks.” 

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