That these pieces “live” as they do is overwhelmingly apparent in Mid-Sentence; they exist in conversation with each other across distance and time, a living interaction, and they evoke a sense beyond the physically sculptural, beyond image, to live in relation to the viewer.
With New Found Lands, curators Pamela Edmonds and Bushra Junaid have reimagined a narrative by magnifying its margins.
WhiteFeather Hunter is creating living textiles: using her own hair, silk or gut sutures and mini 3D-printed looms and crochet hooks to weave scaffolding upon which connective tissue can foster.
Inspired by the terrifying tales of mythical monsters she connected with as a child, Marigold Santos unravels her memories and experiences to form her own personal myths, inspiring viewers to do the same.
In an art world unbeholden to market forces, what’s the correlation between the jurors of funding councils and awards to who they render visible and the image of Canadian that presents to the rest of the world?
There’s a soft delicacy in the works that comprise Rilla Marshall’s Liminal Project, which makes the realization of its decidedly uncomfortable subject matter all the more jarring and arresting.
Delving into the personal and surreal, Neil LaPierre is committed to bringing the HA-HA’s into art discourse.
Richard Mueller is not so interested in coherent pictorial space or literal depiction as in the potential of formal arrangements to engender associative and emotional responses “independent of literal language.”
L’Acadie Mythique, a travelling exhibition that recently visited the Saint Mary’s University Art Gallery, is curated by Harlan Johnson and features nearly twenty different artists from across the Acadian diaspora.
As we walked downtown, my friend described how two old hags had chewed on either side of her neck the night before. It wasn’t the first time. “I’ve learned that the trick,” she told me, “is that I just have to let it happen, to remind myself that it’s not real.” This was a...
Cathy Busby displays the artworks that the Confederation Centre Art Gallery’s first director, Moncrieff Williamson, acquired half a century ago on a shoestring budget ahead of a royal visit from the Queen. Or at least, what was left of them.
While exploring Anatomica, I experienced several moments of disorientation, unsure whether I was approaching a piece with stronger connections to an artists’ studio or a laboratory. Take the human spine curving from a steel frame in the gallery. From a distance, artist Sarah Maloney’s Vertebrae, Sacrum, Coccyx looks like a replica meant to be...