The year began with a January visit to Regina as an artist included in the exhibition On The Table at the Dunlop Art Gallery and to scout the city's climate for my impending move. Some of the best art and weather of 2016 happened that week. On the Table was like a banquet over-flowing with food-themed artworks. If I had to mention just one, it would be Song Dong’s Bread (After Song Dong's "Bread" 1994), an ordinary, store-bought loaf of bread encased in a glass vitrine that had been allowed to mould and atrophy – a metaphor for the transformation of Chinese society. A staple food and symbol for nourishment turned abstract landscape, fetishized art object and unbearably noxious. (The gallery staff had to wear HAZMAT gear while installing the loaf.)
Anthony McCall, Line Describing a Cone 2.0, 2010, video projector, computer, digital file, haze machine (photo: Don Hall)
At the same time, the MacKenzie Art Gallery was showing a recent acquisition: Line Describing a Cone 2.0. This 21st Century iteration of British-born artist Anthony McCall's “solid light” installation was originally shown in movie theatres in the 1970s. McCall's stark animations sculpted volumes in projector light bounced off of airborne smoke particles. Who could ever imagine that people giving up smoking would basically ruin your art? In 2016, vapour machines were used to fog the air. (I hope that McCall might collaborate with dudes who congregate in vape shops for his future projects.) I encouraged a stranger entering the gallery to stick his hand into the trough of light created by a white dot's progress across the black screen. He did so, and we both giggled – perception at odds with knowledge.
We all have some personal connection to the things that we like the best. I don't think it's just because I volunteered to perform as a naked demon lady for Lechedevirgen Trimegisto's Inferno Varieté that makes it stand out for me, but it was quite an introduction to my new city. For years, the simultaneous festivals Queer City Cinema and Performatorium have been creating a queer mecca on the prairies. Mexican artist Lechedevirgen's performance at this year's festival was remarkable: balancing feats of exertion with heart-breaking vulnerability and levity. At its climax, the oppressiveness of machismo was palpably illustrated by Lechedevirgen's legs, skinny as pipe cleaners, trembling as he bucked his hips, swinging a pair of pendulous bull testicles tied to his own testicles. Blood streamed down his face from a row of fresh piercing on his forehead caused by small darts with feathered ends that looked like bandilleras used to weaken bulls.
Sandee Moore is a nationally exhibited artist, arts administrator, occasional art writer, and newcomer to Regina. She can be followed on Twitter @SandeeMoore.
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2016 Critic's Picks
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