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Trepanier Baer Gallery

A shared exhibition of new and recent works by veteran figurative sculptors Stephan Balkenhol and Evan Penny is a tour of the human figure. Curated by Yves Trépanier and Kevin Baer, the show at Trepanier Baer gallery is a refresher course on the value of craftsmanship and old-fashioned observation in contemporary art.

Balkenhol’s contribution to the exhibition begins with Mann mit rosem Hemd (Man with Pink Shirt), perched in the gallery’s foyer. Balkenhol’s 51-cm figure standing on a plinth of 120 cm, is captivating in its simplicity.

With his salmon shirt and high-waisted trousers, disinterested look and roughly hewn carving, it is up to the viewer to get close and allow his or her eyes to roam over the product of Balkenhol’s inspired hand — looking into the subject’s face, the folds of his ears and ribbons of hair. Mann mit rosem Hemd acts as ambassador to the show, welcoming and embodying the unifying themes of craftsmanship and observation between the radically different processes of the two artists. It is a stroke of brilliant planning to have placed the piece there.

Although made of different materials, many of Balkenhol’s sculptures and reliefs are of a similar design — a stripped-down exploration of the human figure. Too many pieces could be repetitious and boring, but this exhibition doesn’t overdo it. Mann Janus (Janus Man) plays wonderfully on people’s inability to live in an uncomfortable present, where the past disappoints them and the future is frightening. Mann (relief grün), a delightful, small etching of a man in an orange shirt, gets lost in the enormity of the white walls upon which it hangs.

Kopfrelief, an etched wood image of a woman, is better placed, but the smoothness of the black shoulder is too incongruous with the otherwise rough texture of the image, especially the brown hair.

As a contrast to the simplicity and earthiness of Balkenhol’s wood and bronze, Penny’s silicone sculptures are incredibly detailed in their rendering of the softness and imperfections of the human body. The viewer can see the crinkles, creases and spots in the flesh as well as the glassiness of the eyes.

Penny, however, does not slavishly imitate nature. His silicones are distorted, usually by elongating features and distorting perspective. The effect is to question how people see each other.

Shelley, the first silicone, is looking over her shoulder, with flame-red hair and pointed, elongated features. It’s just a touch beyond reality, and forces the viewer to reflect on the emotional effect of seeing a face rendered this way.

The self-portrait, Self, is more distorted than Shelley. From early 2009, Self brings the question of appearances raised by Penny’s works to the forefront. The extension of the cranium into an unfathomable angle creates a monstrous appearance. Penny turns the investigative process regarding perspective on himself and examines how people build opinions about themselves. With bulbous eyes, a painfully craned neck and deep-set wrinkles, the self-portrait speaks of Penny’s honesty.

However, not everything in Penny’s work is silicone. Sitting in the display window overlooking the street is a 1982 bronze sculpture, Camille. This piece follows a classical approach to sculpting the human body, but the most distinctive effect is its relationship to natural light, with rays of sun dancing off the polished, smooth surface of Camille’s skin. However, the deep grooves in her hair are roughly done, and contrast too strongly with the elegant surface of the body.

With 13 pieces in all, the Balkenhol and Penny show gives an insightful overview of the work and process of these two skilled artists. Trépanier and Baer both believe there is a movement underway to return to figurative sculpture, and, says Baer, “It’s because of these guys.”