Cassils' work "Becoming An Image
Performance Still No. 4" was part of a groundbreaking show at the University of Victoria's Legacy Gallery titled "Trans Hirstory in 99 Objects." (This c-print image from 2013 was taken during a performance at the National Theatre Studio as part of the SPILL Festival, London (edition of 5, photo by Cassils with Manuel Vason; courtesy the artist and Ronald Feldman Gallery, New York)
It was the year of #metoo, a time when women everywhere seemed to be speaking their truth about sexual assault and inappropriate workplace behaviour. But an ongoing examination of contemporary masculinity also percolated along, and awareness of issues affecting trans and non-binary people continued to grow. Is it any wonder that artists weighed in?
Some Western Canadian shows stood out as groundbreaking. One in particular was Trans Hirstory in 99 Objects, at the University of Victoria's Legacy Gallery. It was part of an ongoing project curated by American artist Chris Vargas, the founder of the Museum of Transgender Hirstory and Art, an imaginary institution that coalesces for temporary events.
Vargas curated art and archival material from UVic’s Transgender Archives, a remarkable collection that includes everything from books and newspaper clippings to photographs and paintings. According to Aaron Devore, the university’s chair of transgender studies, it’s the largest such archive in the world.
The show included work by Cassils, a Canadian artist who attacked a one-ton block of clay in the dark to evoke the struggles of trans people, and a series of recreated family snapshots by Canadian artist Vivek Shraya.
Another initiative, Re-Imaging Normal, described by Edmonton arts writer Fish Griwkowsky as "a compelling little whirl of a show" considered changing conceptions of gender and sexual identity. Launched at the Visual Arts Alberta-CARFAC project space in Edmonton, it will tour to schools and libraries across the province.
"Think of the semi-trailer museums you may have seen in the ’70s and ’80s," Griwkowsky writes in Galleries West, "but full of content that could save more than a few lives with its suggestion that Barbie or Ken aren’t the only checkboxes."
Dayna Danger's 2017 digital photograph “Gi Jiit” was included in "Not the Camera, But the Filing Cabinet: Performative Body Archives in Contemporary Art"
At the University of Winnipeg's Gallery 1C03, Noor Bhangu curated Not the Camera, But the Filing Cabinet: Performative Body Archives in Contemporary Art, which looked at how female and non-binary artists access history and memory through the body. As Bhangu made clear in her curatorial essay, the show's aim was “to lift women, queer and non-binary voices out of a discourse that is interested in a single story toward one that recognizes agency, diversity and refusal.”
Meanwhile, at UBC’s Morris and Helen Belkin Art Gallery, Beginning with the Seventies: Glut looked at the archive as it pertains to art, activism and the women's movement.
One show that took aim at misogyny – and U.S. President Donald Trump – came courtesy of Calgary artist Veronica Funk, who painted 100 portraits of women for her show at Inglewood Fine Arts in Calgary, pointedly titled Nasty Women.
Jay Senetchko, “Death of the Standing Nude,” 2018
oil on canvas, 72" x 48"
Vancouver artist Jay Senetchko took another approach to unsettling the male gaze, painting portraits of heroic female figures that would be at home in Soviet propaganda. The works were displayed as part of a three-person exhibition, Unseated, at Vancouver’s Parker Projects.
Regina's Madhu Kumar sought to raise understanding about immigrant women by painting their portraits. Their stories – some of them harrowing – speak of hope and resilience. Kumar's show, The Stories of Immigrant Women, is on view at the Shurniak Art Gallery in Assiniboia, Sask., until Feb. 28.
Meanwhile, shows that considered contemporary masculinity were also part of the mix. Edmonton artist Craig Le Blanc, for instance, exhibited vinyl-covered shields with text that expressed his doubts and anxieties. “They are my confessions,” Le Blanc said of his work at Edmonton's Front Gallery. “They are things in life I am not always proud of.” ■