As many of you who follow my work know, since 1994 I have held an annual one-night solo exhibition in Edmonton at the Fairmont Hotel Macdonald. It is a kind of armature around which I have formed my art career and way of life really, shaping each year in terms of time management, travel and creative output. For my collectors, volunteers, friends and family, it is a time to gather together to see most of a year’s work, to socialize and to celebrate the start of their Christmas season. It is a tradition.
And then... 2020.
After 27 years of finely tuning the exhibition, I was forced along with the rest of the planet, to change tack (I resist using the overused and now-annoying “pivot”) and I’m grateful and fortunate that I had the choice and ability to do so. That being said, I felt whiny and put out and unsure, and well - scared.
(It was even more unsettling as my bi-annual solo exhibition at Canada House Gallery opened this spring at the very height of the first wave of the pandemic, when the town of Banff was actually closed to visitors. It felt like I had delivered an entire exhibition into quarantine. In spite of the limitations of lock-down, the gallery made sure the work was seen and appreciated in a covid-safe manner. They changed tack.)
Following that, and as the pandemic accelerated in scope, it dawned on me that my November show really could not take place as usual. So, I kept calm and carried on. NOT. It was closer to panic than composure.
I moved the exhibition to a hybrid model, holding the opening as an online event, becoming somewhat more "techy" than I’m comfortable with in order to bring my website up to exhibition speed. That was part one. Part two was to schedule timed, private appointments over 10 days for those who wished to see the work in person, which meant moving all of the furniture out of our house, hanging and lighting 27 paintings. It meant sanitizing every surface between appointments, of course wearing masks, and keeping the house spotless. It meant giving up the celebratory atmosphere and energy of an opening night, and a fair degree of certainty. It also meant being more flexible than normal while trying to uphold those traditions we were able to.
27th Annual Exhibition, Annesley Studio, November 2020.
Having more time to converse with viewers and collectors without the pressure of a crowd was enjoyable and valuable, which I feel was a shared sentiment.
I learned that art seems to be more meaningful and necessary in this time of isolation, and that is reassuring. I learned that even though we all may feel as if we are working in a vacuum at this moment, your supporters are still there, and you and your work, whatever it is, are needed.
I also learned that sticking battery operated LED spot lights to your ceiling will likely not end well. Another post for another time.
Hopefully over this next year and especially during this next few weeks you can maintain at least a few traditions, and that you can change tack when necessary and enjoy the new direction it takes you.
27th Annual Exhibition, Annesley Studio, November 2020.
P.S. After we struck the exhibition, I took the opportunity of a furniture-less house to clean and polish the floors, as well as re-paint. The “removal” of the stick-on spotlights also may have had an influence on this decision. It has taken the past 3 solid weeks but it is finally done. Though it is “just” wall painting, there is a certain freedom in using larger brushes and tools to make big gestural physical strokes; a complete departure to my usual controlled and detailed work. The change of colour and pattern is refreshing, and I can’t wait to host friends for dinner as soon as it is safe. I also can’t wait to return to making paintings instead of walls.
