BRUCE MONTCOMBROUX, KYLE BEAL AND JASON SHEPPARD, "LES CHOSES SONT CONTRE NOUS," AKA Gallery, Saskatoon, Jan 14 - Mar 4, 2011

×

1 of 2

Expand

"LES CHOSES SONT CONTRE NOUS"

Bruce Montcombroux, Kyle Beal and Jason Sheppard, "LES CHOSES SONT CONTRE NOUS," mixed media, installation dimensions variable, AKA Gallery, 2011.

×

2 of 2

Expand

"LES CHOSES SONT CONTRE NOUS"

Bruce Montcombroux, Kyle Beal and Jason Sheppard, "LES CHOSES SONT CONTRE NOUS," mixed media, installation dimensions variable, AKA Gallery, 2011.

Prev

Next

BRUCE MONTCOMBROUX, KYLE BEAL AND JASON SHEPPARD, LES CHOSES SONT CONTRE NOUS

AKA Gallery, Saskatoon

Jan 14 - Mar 4, 2011

By Lissa Robinson

Collaboration among artists can yield surprising and interesting results, particularly if the artists have different aesthetics or work in different matters and mediums, or in the case of Les Choses Sont Contre Nous - a recent exhibition at AKA Gallery in Saskatoon - was initiated mostly through “virtual activity.”

Using a combination of sculpture, interactive kinetic elements, performance, photography and architectural intervention, the exhibition is a humorous and poetic commentary on the way everyday objects confound us in subtle and provocative ways while also engaging the gallery as a space of social and institutional interaction.

Artists Bruce Montcombroux (Saskatoon), Kyle Beal (Montreal) and Jason Sheppard (Denver, Colorado) met at the Vermont Studio Centre in 2009 where all three artists participated in independent residencies. Continuing their new connection virtually, the three decided to reunite and work collaboratively over a span of four days with only a conceptual framework for what they would produce for the exhibition.

The title of the show, Les Choses Sont Contre Nous, sets the tone, and is the pièce de résistance to unravelling the puzzling configuration of artworks. Taken from the slogan for Resistentialism, it means "things are against us." The philosophy is a brilliant spoof of existentialism coined by British humourist Paul Jennings in 1963. It’s based on the belief that inanimate objects have a natural antipathy towards humans.

With this in mind, much of the exhibition confronts us with occurrences that poke fun at the fallibility of objects, the precincts of space and our resistance to accepting that ‘things’ often work against us.

At the entrance of the gallery sits a framed structure that forces the viewer to zigzag through its faux queue. What seems at first like a pointless, forced entry reveals the gallery as a setting used to choreograph the viewing or reading of objects.

The arrangements of approximately 15 works are surrounded by an orange dashed line that runs horizontally around the perimeter of the room (and parts of the frame). I am reminded of a quote from Paul Klee: “a line is a dot that went out for a walk.” It’s a funny image that animates the space while anchoring itself to other objects like an orange duct tape-covered ball that floats in space at the other end of the gallery.

The odd floating ball (another anchoring or framing device perhaps) is situated between two DIYesque sculptures and a video projection that loops two performances of one artist struggling with the mishaps of using a pencil. The video makes a subtle but funny commentary on the creative struggle of an artist while insinuating itself into the framing devices, punctuated lines and the two orange accented sculptures.

One of these sculptures is a cinder block resting on the floor, on one edge, that is stabilized by a dangling, tangling bungee cord. Although simple in both form and construction, there is something salient about its careful but precarious arrangement. A few feet away, the second of the two sculptures, is a garage door mechanism that is partially suspended and partially resting on the floor. Set up with a sensor, any subtle movement lights it up and sends this disembodied object into a tangent as it stretches and pushes forward and then exhausts swinging backwards. This piece seems to best capture the idea that indeed “things’ do have a mind of their own.

However, it’s at this point that the more lyrical connections between works and the exhibition as a whole begin to unravel. Running the length of the wall opposite the entrance is a series of found objects including a misbuttoned shirt, a single sock and a red-edged sheet of paper. On their own, the objects would have held up well against the more subtle expressions of the other works, had they not been accompanied by labels that too didactically described the objects’ misbehaviours: i.e. ,i>Case of Beer (handle ripped) or Toast and Butter (slipped off plate). But given the short time the artists worked together, and the breadth of territory they explored individually and collaboratively, it’s fair to excuse this one mishap in an otherwise subtle and very clever show.