Portraits Beyond Social Media

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A carefully constructed and flattering self-image is hardly the invention of Facebook – portraits of showing the subject's status and success are seen throughout art history. Wealthy Egyptians immortalized themselves in tombs dating back to 1400 BC. In medieval times, donors were painted next to Christ, sometimes at a similar scale. Perhaps the main innovation of social media is the impression that everyone is always having fun, not to mention the ability to instantly gauge status based on the number of clicks.

Campbell Wallace’s exhibition, The Third Face, at the Scott Gallery in Edmonton until Nov. 10, demonstrates a quintessential anti-social media aesthetic. His paintings are like peepholes into people's private life, depicting them not as they wish to be seen, but as they actually are. Wallace’s unusual way of finding his subjects helps explain the stark impartiality of his gaze. A defining moment came when he discovered a stash of photographs hidden in a dresser he'd bought in a thrift store. This collection became immortalized in his meticulous oil paintings. Armed with a detachment and objectivity he had never thought possible, he began to search for more snapshots in trash bins, second-hand stores and, more recently, on the Internet.

Triviality, humour, despair and resilience shine from these paintings with radical honesty. Prosaic details of modern life become monumentalized; barely perceptible references to great masterpieces accentuate this effect. For instance, The Wrestler depicts a young woman stretched out on a cheap bed, her muscular legs thrust toward the viewer. At the centre of the painting, her short skirt reveals a provocative sliver of her underwear. It would be easy to dismiss this work as another example of the male gaze but for the references to Manet’s Olympia. There are obvious clues: both women lie on a scarf or shawl with a cat at their feet, both are outlined in black, bringing a three-dimensional hand into focus.

But it's the expressive content of the paintings that offers the most striking parallels. When first exhibited, Olympia was so scandalous special security was needed. The problem was not the clear reference to prostitution: it was Olympia’s direct, confrontational gaze, her hand covering her pubic hair, not coyly, but confidently. Manet had dared to depict a real woman instead of an idealized plaything. Wallace’s subject also gazes directly at the viewer, her hand at her belly, crotch exposed. She is at ease and fully in control.

Such references to historical art are not incidental – Wallace alters the original images to include them. Some of his paintings even bear the same title as the masterpiece. The viewer is left to search for clues, as in a detective novel. Some are so subtle it's hard to control a squeal of delight when spotted. At close inspection, both Hans Holbein’s and Wallace’s The Ambassadors reveal a tiny, finely painted crucifix in the upper left hand corner. And Holbein's famous distorted skull is replicated on the shorts of one of the young men.

It's easy to get lost in this show’s rich details: every cell phone, water bottle and piece of clothing is painted with precision. These snapshots of contemporary life, populated by nameless, ordinary people, leave a strong impression. Wallace’s traditional medium belies his radical refocus on what it means to be young today. The posed, constructed and perennially smiling social media persona is replaced by real people – the ones we pass every day on the street but rarely truly see.

Scott Gallery

10411 124 St, Edmonton, Alberta T5N 3Z5

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