>>PREVIEW
CHANTAL ROUSSEAU: WHAT WE HAVE IS THIS
Runs until December 16
The New Gallery
A video projection of a near-life-size tree presides over Chantal Rousseau’s installation. Hand drawn with simple black lines on a white background, the sapling resembles an illustration from a children’s book, just starting to come to life.
Each of the hundreds of tiny leaves is individually animated, as if rustling in a gentle breeze. But something is not quite right. The breeze does not seem to be blowing from any particular direction, and neither the branches, nor the trunk of the tree move an inch. Also, no soundtrack accompanies the piece, so the gallery is eerily quiet.
This conflux of natural and artificial elements sets the scene for the whole exhibition. Rousseau has created a sterile, laboratory-like environment to present her work, yet her images have an organic, handmade feel. In the artist’s world, humans and animals co-exist in strange, silent relationships.
Along the opposite wall of the gallery, an orderly row of five white video monitors is placed on individual white shelves. Each plays a short, black and white, looped animation.
In the first vignette, one bird is stuffed and mounted to a round base. Another bird pecks at the ground nearby. Periodically, it stops to peer at its curiously still counterpart. The situation repeats endlessly, neither one coming any closer to an understanding.
The second animation features a large bird of prey with a small lizard struggling in its talons. Its huge wings flap furiously as the lizard tries to escape. The lizard seems to get loose for a moment, but it’s soon caught and the confrontation continues again.
A woman sits still and expressionless in the next video. She is naked except for a set of straps that band her waist and vagina, separating her labia majora from her labia minora. She gives these a small, listless tug, then nothing. A hawk flies into the frame, landing on her arm. The arm moves, but it is unclear whether the hawk is manipulating it, or the woman is attempting to dislodge the bird. Either way, she remains without expression as the hawk flies out of the frame again.
In the bottom corner of the fourth screen, a small bird lies with its eyes closed and claws in the air. It seems to be dead, but after a minute or two, it blinks, flips over and flies away. The video loop returns the bird to its original position a moment later – a miraculous, split second of life.
In the final piece, a person’s head moves suggestively behind the trunk of a tree. It is unclear whether this is a man or a woman, and it is unclear what exactly is happening. Outdoor sex or some kind of arbour fellatio? The tree hides the answer. Soon a woodpecker lands on the other side of the trunk. Its pecking is a similar movement to what is happening on the other side of the tree, but much faster.
In Chantal Rousseau’s laboratory, the creatures under scrutiny are human. Animals appear, but only as stand-ins for people. Whether distant, deluded, passionate or violent, the relationships here are never clearly resolved. Messy and confusing, we are an ambiguous subject.
The New Gallery lives on
Recent reports of The New Gallery’s homeless status have struck dread in the hearts of Calgary art lovers, but fear not.
What We Have Is This is the final show that will take place at the gallery’s current 9th Avenue S.W. location. After its closure on December 16th, staff will move operations to a temporary space provided by Emmedia Gallery and Production Society.
TNG’s new digs will be comprised of approximately 1000 square feet of space with clean, white walls. The temporary abode will allow the gallery to continue with its planned schedule of shows while looking for a permanent home.
The New Gallery is Calgary’s oldest artist-run centre, and has occupied many different locations in its 32-year history. Despite the challenges of the city’s current boom, Director Sigrid Mahr is confident in the gallery’s future. She states emphatically, "We’re not going anywhere!"
The New Gallery’s next exhibition will feature an audio installation by Ken Friedman opening at 7 p.m., January 12, 2007 at 351-11th Avenue S.W., on the second floor.
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