NFB's Log Driver's Waltz

Concept: 5 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: The word is "birling".

The Long Version: There are a few things that always make me feel Canadian: American attitudes towards firearms, their Republian party, and my fond memories of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation. When I was a kid in the `80's, CBC-TV would play the Log Driver's Waltz, a short film from the National Film Board, in between my saturday morning cartoons. I loved it then, and still smile when I see it today.

Watch it on the NFB's web site here.

Seeing it now – as an adult – I have a better appreciation for its opening cheekiness, and I wonder what sort of reaction it received in 1979. ('If you ask any girl … what pleases her most from her head to her toes, she'll say "I'm not sure that it's business of yours…') The now-classic animation is playful and fun, and I can't imagine any way that the latest computer technology would make it any better.

Something that would benefit from modern technology is the NFB's store; they sell their collection on DVD instead of allowing digital downloads. I'd happy buy a high-resolution digital copy even though it's streamed for free, but I just can't bring myself to pay the premium for yet another plastic disk. Instead I've had to make do with downloading just the song by Kate and Anna McGarrigle, which is good but not quite the same thing.

last updated 1 July 2011

Abstract Expressionist New York at the Art Gallery of Ontario

Concept: 2 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: Everything's bigger in New York.

The Long Version: I've always wanted to be able to say: "Well, when I saw this show in New York, ____________" and now I finally can. Almost. While they're both called Abstract Expressionist New York, the AGO exhibit has the tagline "Masterpieces from the Museum of Modern Art". That's a subtle but important difference between the Art Gallery of Ontario and the MoMA show, from which the AGO takes all of its multimedia. I'll return to that at the end of this review.

The AGO's AbExNY show is nicely put together, with large information cards at the base of each painting. These can be read from anywhere in front of the art, and provide information about the artist and perhaps a bit about their work. This is a vast improvement over the little 5x7" cards on the wall that need people to come right up to read them, and must be a huge part of why the AGO's guards were so relaxed. Now I wonder why it hasn't always been done that way.

The larger rooms have carpeting with a metre-wide hard border on their perimeter, which is a nice way of enforcing a respectful distance. Smaller rooms with wooden floors have the traditional calf-high rope barrier to identify the art – a cue that's often appreciated for modern works – and ensure that it remains unperturbed. Photographing any art is explicitly prohibited by the AGO, but I didn't see that ban enforced in any of the many times that I saw it being broken.

The two biggest stars of abstract expressionism must be Jackson Pollock and Mark Rothko. Rothko is represented by two of his surrealist works, three of his brighter paintings, and three from his darker period. The lighting in his room was nicely done, with a lower ambient level that let the colourful paintings be brightly lit while the more somber ones were allowed to be darker. It was both sensitive and suitable. It's just a pity that the seating in the centre of the room is too uncomfortable to spend quality time on.

Given Rothko's appeal – his was by far the most crowded room, both in Toronto and New York – and the scale of his work, it makes sense that these are among the largest canvases in the show. It was Rothko's work that first caught my interest and introduced me to colour field art, and it is worth the price of admission just to see these six paintings.

The other headliner of the collection, Jackson Pollock, is likewise given a room to himself – his wife is left to wait outside – and is also represented by a good range of work. My tastes have always run toward minimalism, so Pollock's not a good fit for me, but this is still a room that's worth spending a lot of time in. The seats here are considerably more comfortable than those in the Rothko display.

The AGO's AbEx exhibit spans from the late 1940's to the end of the 1960's, and while the headliners of Rothko and Pollock are clearly the stars of the show, there's a sampling of other works from their contemporaries as well. Some of these stray into surrealism or recognizable subjects, but for the most part the focus is confined to a slice of time and geography that won't disappoint anyone looking for the popular abstract expressionist art. If this sounds like you, and you're within striking distance of Dundas and McCaul, it's worth spending an hour or two at the AGO.

And really, that concludes my review of AbEx:AGO, and writing it has stressed my knowledge of art far too much already. If what I've already written sounds good, you will like the AGO's Abstract Expressionist show. It's the reason why I bought an AGO membership, and have gone to see the collection three times in its first two weeks. I've been quite happy with the AGO's accomplishment of having the art moved to Toronto for the summer, but that's not quite my only reaction. What follows is merely a wildly impractical and personal reaction, unfounded supposition, and general nonsense.

When I saw the Abstract Expressionist show in New York, it was huge. An entire floor of MoMA had been devoted to it, where the art spanned a wider range and went into a greater depth. On my first visit to the AGO's AbEx show I found myself looking for the rest of it. ("Nope, that's the gift shop.") The AGO exhibit, as exceptional as it is, is clearly a travelling show. I can't help but feel that display space, transportation, and insurance value all played a huge part in the art selection process.

The exhibition in New York gave Barnett Newman a room to himself that was dominated by massive canvasses, while the AGO has only a few of his smaller and narrower paintings. As good as Abraham is, it's no substitute for Vir Heroicus Sublimis. In Toronto Jackson Pollock is also represented by mostly smaller canvases that simply don't convey the same impression as the bigger paintings carry in their home city. Perhaps perversely, I found myself disappointed that one of Rothko's smaller peices from MoMA's display – an untitled work in grey and black, with a white border – didn't make the trip. Some people are just never satisfied.

Likewise Cy Twombly and Jasper Johns are nowhere to be found, and while I recognize that Johns mostly lies outside of the scope of abstract expressionism, his gesture paintings were included in New York and would have been a great challenge to the Pollock/Rothko pairing. At the same time, the AGO has devoted two large walls to small framed photographs from Aaron Siskind, Harry Callahan, and others. While these are worth seeing, they're not why anyone is coming to Abstract Expressionist New York. On the positive side, they're framed with such reflective glass that looking at the photos is a great way to see the rest of the show.

While it may seem churlish of me to compare an exhibition drawn from MoMA's vast collection to the display that they sent to another nation, the AGO invites the comparison by using the multimedia from the MoMA exhibit. Have a look at those videos for a glimpse of the scope and depth that was offered in New York – the "Masterpieces from the Museum of Modern Art" isn't quite the same. I'm thrilled to have such a great collection so close to home, even if it's only for the summer, but doesn't replace a trip to New York and its many exceptional galleries. My advice: do both.

last updated 7 june 2011

William Eggleston: Democratic Camera

Concept: 3 out of 5
Execution: 4 out of 5
Yeah, but: It's a twofer - a review of the book and the exhibition.

The Long Version: William Eggleston is one of the early greats of colour photography - the American south's version of Henri Cartier-Bresson, perhaps. While they're certainly not for everyone, Eggleston's casual and spontaneous-looking photos typically have a deeper structure and content that rewards extended viewing. (I've never really 'gotten' HC-B's images, but perhaps like William Albert Allard, I see in colour.) But even beyond the question of personal taste, there's no doubt that Eggleston is an important and pioneering photographer, and this collection of images that spans nearly fifty years is a fascinating study of a strongly consistent body of work.

The reproductions in the book "William Eggleston: Democratic Camera" (ISBN 978-0300126211) are beautifully done, and the book is well produced. Images typically occupy only the right page, with some two-page layouts where the photographs strengthen each other. Only the occasional image is spoilt by extending across the gutter; I continue to miss the appeal of that approach, but it is a fairly common thing for photography books. Rounding out the front and back are essays and information that provides additional context for the photography.

The book is a physical experience in its own right, being almost a foot tall and over an inch thick; my kitchen scale thinks that it weighs just under five pounds. Finding it for sale might also be an experience, as Amazon in the USA and Canada are "temporarily out of stock". Currently the Canadian chain Chapers/Indigo is also sold out, and at a price that's about 50% higher. Nifty work, that. And while I'm on the subject, Amazon's Canadian sold-out price is also almost 20% higher than it was when they shipped me my copy. I'm not about to endorse the prices that some of the used vendors are asking for, but if I had paid $60 for mine, I would still think it's a good deal. It also happens to be one of the best souvenirs I could hope for.

Doorway detail, taken with permission, ARTIC.

Put together by the Whitney Museum of American Art - in association with Haus der Kunst, Munich - the exhibition "William Eggleston: Democratic Camera, Photographs and Video, 1961-2008" is a vast photographic collection that's currently on tour. I was lucky enough to catch it at the Art Institute of Chicago, where it's on display until May 23. Starting in November, and lasting through the start of their so-called winter, the exhibition will end its tour at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. As good as the book is, the originals are much better.

Many of the images on display use the sublime Dye Transfer printing process. The reds of this famous photograph are intense, rich and varied; blue skies are smooth and keep their colour all the way to the edge of black. The application of this expensive and nearly extinct process to Eggleston's snapshot-like photographs of ubiquitous objects can translate into a certain gravitas; it could be the launching point for a discussion of fine-art photography and its place in the (art) world. Instead, I'll just say that it produces some amazing results, and leave it at that.

The photo reproduced above is one of my favourite images - how could it not be? - and it's also an excellent example of why seeing the book, and the original prints in the show, is so important. Mine is an absolutely horrible reproduction. Nothing looks the way it should. In the book, the sky has sophisticated colours and tones; in the dye-sub print, the sign is almost luminous with a beautiful colour harmony. This feeble copy has been demolished by its colour space and compression.

It's tempting for me to pretend that what's on the screen looks like reality. Seeing good art, either in person or in quality reproductions, is worth the extra effort. William Eggleston: Democratic Camera has been a refreshing experience.

For a lively, interesting, and much better-educated discussion of the Art Institute's exhibition of William Eggleston's works, head over to The Online Photographer for the articles written by Mike Johnson and Ken Tanaka. All I can really add to their insights is that I didn't think it was that dark in there.

What The Duck Signed Prints

Concept: 4 out of 5
Execution: 3 out of 5
Yeah, but: This one's personal.

The Long Version: I reviewed What The Duck, the cartoon for photographers, back in June. I'm happy to report that the daily strip by Aaron Johnson remains funny. But this isn't a review of a comic strip, this is about art. Art that happens to be a comic.

For a modest fee, Aaron Johnson will print, personalize, and mail you a strip of your choice. All you need is the number of the strip, which is available in the archives, and a PayPal account. Since eBay is quite reasonably outlawing all forms of payment that it doesn't own, you'll eventually need one of those anyway.

The idea of signed prints is a good one. The doodle is a nice touch, adding a suitable touch of whimsy, and elevates the finished product from an interchangeable inkjet print to a unique work. (But I do have to admit that I wonder about how much the dedication hurts the resale value.) My only real complaint is that the paper used is fairly lightweight; a more substantial grade would have given the print a much better feel. But once the paper gets behind glass, it doesn't matter.

On a value-for-the-money ratio, the print was considerably cheaper than the frame, making this personalized art print an excellent deal. There is also a pay-for-pixels option, which is an affordable way to get a print-at-home image, but it loses the personalization and old-fashioned 'buying something physical' feeling. It's an option I might consider for ones that I like but wouldn't want to frame.

My final thought is the first thing that struck me about the print: it's not a photograph. It's single tones, simple colours, and ink put down on a page. The blank spots are blank, and the black lines are clearly inked on top of them. It really does look like a cartoon. I occasionally believe that an image isn't really a photo until it's a print; maybe the same is true of comics as well.