Sarah Furlotte

The chat with Sarah Furlotte begins amongst an organized clutter of projects in a small room where a husky-lab-chow-malamute, named Tank, quietly enters like a beautiful cloud of fur, shortly followed by a shy and thinner husky-chow with loving bright sienna eyes.

Sarah’s paintings of tearing clouds, from her last show at the Defsup gallery, hang on the walls amongst earlier surreal landscapes featuring cats and rabbits. She apologizes for the mess as she sweeps strips of paper and bra parts into a corner. The mess suits an artist whose commitment to diversity takes up every spare surface of the room with hats, fur coats, hooves, horns, giant gold fairy wings, organized binders, books, oversized thematic bras, stacked large canvases, small canvases, misshapen paper constructions, and one of Sarah’s current loves, “assemblages,” the little worlds that look like maquette stage sets.
Although she loves to play with paint and paper, design costumes for shows (the past Derelicte5 Show and the upcoming Urban Infill), Sarah’s focus now is on making films, in collaboration with others, but she is eager to make her own film. And she will. Unlike so many who talk about making a film, or never manage to complete projects, it’s a near certainty that Sarah will.

As she pulls out a thick old book on engineering and flips through the drawings, she talks about her past experiences, rifling through countless projects she’s worked on. Recently she graduated from Confederations College’s film program, having made her own student films and having banked film projects with other students. She worked for seven years, mostly as a props coordinator and set painter at Magnus Theatre. One of her current jobs is as Artistic Director for Imaginarium, a successful film/video production company in town. She has also worked for local companies, Thunderstone Pictures, Apple Wagon Films, Shebandowan Films, Cinevate, and others. She taught a course in art direction at the college in their film program. The list of collaborations with individuals is also extensive. Currently, she is working with Will Rutledge on a science fiction film.

The point of all this resume chatter? Sarah represents the best kind of artist who gets things done, for herself, and others. She acts as spokes on a wheel, the wheel being the art community. Sarah is having a remarkable and wonderful influence. She’s one of the best go-to people in town. Few people like Sarah are able to work with just about anyone, from shy up-and-comers to downright bullies. Although Sarah refers to the film crowd as a bunch of boys, she is thoroughly happy to work for them, get them motivated and help complete their projects, to exceed their own expectations.

She laments the intense jealousy local filmmakers have of one another, not just petty envies over successes, but over equipment, funding, talent, connections, etc. Sarah believes Thunder Bay’s has the opportunity to be a thriving film community, but she sees how the badmouthing, gossip, and in some cases, actions to undermine each other are extremely harmful.

Despite this, Sarah is extremely positive about the city’s newfound vibrancy. “Thunder Bay is becoming fun,” she says. “There’s a lot of artiness going on. The openings are getting so much more fun. People are always out. People are talking. They’re getting out and having a fun time. There are gift shops, new galleries, and little offices for film companies in town now. The grants are really helping. People are doing more nationally comparable bodies of work, like that Nowadays graphic novel, and documentaries and stuff. There’s a lot to do and it’s getting better.”

Sarah is reading books by Christopher Lasch, Jean M. Twenge, Diana West, and others to understand a subject that fascinates her, a lost generation of “boys.” She laughs, and describes herself as a tomboy who does out of gender jobs.

Hopefully the film community will return favours when she begins work on her own film projects. Lots of the "boys" have a tendency to forget who helped them get their projects completed, or even started, for that matter.

3 New Shows at DEFSUP Gallery

The Definitely Superior Art Gallery on Park Avenue is currently hosting three art exhibitions in their gallery, running till February 9. This Saturday they have a fundraising fashion show at 8pm at Black Pirates Pub in downtown Port Arthur.

The Derelicte 5 fashion show is a must see. It mixes the practical with the fantastic where local designers show their latest fashions, interspersed with wonderful creations and performances by local artists who spend weeks creating elaborate costumes that are both brilliant and humorous works of art. Bring your camera! Live bands, belly dancers, raffles, and DJs stoke the pace and spirits throughout the night. For details, go to www.definitelysuperior.com. Seriously, this is a fantastic show.

In Gallery One at the DEFSUP galleries, local artist Ann Clarke’s works are featured in a show called Groundwork. Clarke is a professor of fine art at Lakehead University and a distinguished member of the Royal Canadian Academy of Arts.

Clarke’s smaller paintings hold together as finished colourful works. They are fun and have a sense of play about them, but the larger paintings, similar in style, fall apart. With Clarke’s smaller works the eye can find a focal point more easily, and rest for a moment. With the larger works, it’s as if two biological entities were trying to eat each other. As disharmonious compositions, the clean and colourful 1960s Op art sections appear to be dropped randomly on 1970s woolly rugs. The effect is jarring, but could be intentional. It’s hard to tell.

When there is no focal point, and no subject in a painting the eyes dance aimlessly around, as does the mind, which goes wandering, trying to relate what is seen with what is known outside of the art world, looking for a story. Often that story can be found either in the written description of the work, or from the Acoustiguide audio tour that a museum might provide, or in the life of the artist.

Paintings such as Clarke’s can only be judged by what is on the picture plain as there are no references to subject matter, nor any visual clues or history suggested, unless you can compare these aesthetics to another artist’s aesthetic choices. But this is more of a game for art aficionados requiring an extensive knowledge of modern art. The result is that appreciation for this kind of art is limited, where approval for one kind of aesthetic choice over another is similar to a choice of what’s in fashion or not.

Playing with aesthetic styles without resolution or a human subject, theme or action can give the appearance that the paintings are part of a learning process, as if the artist is still in school. Which is why many contemporary artists tend to stick to one style. This is great for marketing purposes, but can show commitment, which most fine art students are taught reveals maturity on the part of the artist.

Which leads to Bob Chaudri’s collection in Gallery Two called Redux 13, a sampling of Canadian contemporary artists. The artists’ works that Bob has collected over the years are famous for their very individual styles, styles immediately recognizable as belonging to particular artists because the aesthetics are so distinct and the artists are pretty much dedicated to one style for their career. Again, subject matter is limited, but the feelings generated from mystery, doubt, anger, ugliness, humour, and occasional beauty, make this little eclectic show interesting and a good sampling of the kinds of modernist works that were produced in the 1990s and beyond

Gallery Three features video projections of some amazing work by contemporary artists that stretch both terms “engineer” and “art,” mixing the two wildly. The creative people here are referred to as “technical poets” and it’s an apt description for some mind-boggling imagery and ideas. The massive “thing” that walks on the beach, for instance, is fascinating, but also unsettling. You’ll love it or find it creepy, but you won’t forget it. 

Carl Beam's Monumental Show

Anything truly huge can grab your attention, and there’s a bit of monumental in everything relating to the show of Carl Beam’s manly art at the Thunder Bay Art Gallery, including what it took to install the works, the size of the works, the language used to describe the pieces, and the subject matter.

In order to host this show, the TBAG had to meet the requirements of the National Gallery in Ottawa, which included hiring a monitor to oversee the hanging process, as the works are difficult to hang, and valuable. Two transport trucks delivered the art and ten people were involved in the unrolling of the largest work on canvas, called Time Warp. It is stapled to the wall. A wall extension had to be built for it. All this stretched the human and financial resources of the TBAG.

Carl Beam, born Carl Edward Migwans, passed away in 2005, gaining notoriety in the 1980s with his fierce approach to primarily aboriginal subjects, part of his heritage from his mother’s side who was Ojibwe. His father was an American soldier who died as a prisoner of war in WWII. He was raised by his Ojibwe grandparents, yet also in a residential school in Spanish, Ontario, near Sudbury.

The TBAG has had a mandate to focus on contemporary aboriginal art since the 1980s, which is why the TBAG hosted Carl Beam’s first solo show in 1984. At that time the gallery commissioned a piece of work, which resulted in a painting called Exorcism in which arrows and an axe protrude. A local archer, shot the arrows into the canvas with direction from Beam, creating an event at the gallery that people still talk about today.
At times, the language used to describe much of Beam’s work gives the impression that Beam’s work is high art, art dealing with big thematic subjects that the public will recognize and be able to respond to, much like the classicists of the past. Instead Beam’s work infers meaning. Beam himself refers to his works as puzzles. Thus Beam’s work is more fine art than high art, appealing more to the fine art community and those willing to spend some time working on the puzzles. It helps to know a little about the artist, and a bit about the past.
In the 1980s to even suggest that Christopher Columbus was really a mass murderer, or that residential schools could be a torturous experience was controversial. As a result, Beam’s imagery, and personal experience reflected in the paintings had a big impact. Today the works still have a deep foreboding quality. And, inspired by artists Rauschenberg and Warhol, he produced a template-like style inspirational for other First Nation artists, showing how mixed imagery, personal symbols and related objects could be used to create large scale visual poems.

Typical of his work, except for the monumental size, is Time Warp. It is a 40 foot giant poem on canvas with handprints, numbers that represent passing time, photo images, painted images, great washes of colour, splatter, and various other elements. It’s a bold expression of feeling and coded personal meaning, demanding a closer look and some thought.
The result of so many bold works is a very strong, and big, exhibition, definitely worth seeing if you’ve never heard of Carl Beam. A great opportunity to learn more is offered by the showing of the documentary, Aakideh: The Art and Legacy of Carl Beam, on Friday, February 15 at 7:30 at the Paramount Theatre, 24 Court St., South. Admission is by donation. 

The Big Grey Area of Appropriation in the Art World

Last week I wrote about con artists in Thunder Bay. Within two days of the article’s printing I received five emails, two from legitimately concerned citizens and three from likely con artists who were, A) fishing for information as to whether I was talking about them or not, B) if I was, they were warning me that they were capable of hurting me – legally or damaging my reputation, C) attempting to assure me that they were legitimate.

It was weird, and required a lot of reading between the lines, but it followed a pattern, revealing how psychologically messed up con artists really are. I’m glad I’m not an authority, but a victim. I wrote about my experience with two con artists in Vancouver in a short story called Case 5323. I also had dealings with a con artist in Victoria, and two local con artists. Fortunately, by that time, I had learned a few lessons.

These responses dredged up another subject that is controversial in the art world, which is appropriation. Appropriation is a world of grey, and although all of us writers, painters, sculptors, musicians, etc. do it in varying degrees, we are conscious of those who do it a little too much. There is no fine line in the art world as to what is truly inspiration or when we emulate those we admire to the point that we are absolutely ripping off another artist.  

In our times of mass reproduction, visually and sonically, sampling occurs regularly where everyone is inspired by someone else, consciously and subconsciously to the point where nothing seems entirely original, and claims of originality cause a raising of the eyebrows.

But at what point does inspiration from another artist become stealing? It should be obvious that if the person doing the appropriating feels some sense of guilt or has to look hard for justification for doing so, then they are probably getting a little too inspired. Yet, if an artist doesn’t have, or listen to, a little alarm bell system in their head, then who will call them out? Their mother?

At its extreme, there are people who steal directly from other artists, possibly because it’s profitable and certainly because it’s easy. And still some even claim to be the great defenders of the people they steal from. It’s a bit like the woman who appeared years ago on an American news program, as light entertainment, who said she LOVES butterflies. So much so that she had a collection of thousands of them. The TV cameras panned the walls of her home. From floor to ceiling of her huge house she had covered her walls with little dead butterflies.

An artist in Victoria, Ron Stacy, a white guy, took a break from painting for several years, returning to it using a new style, because he took seriously the criticism he was getting, mostly from non-natives, for using native imagery in his art. Even though Stacy’s knowledge of First Nations culture was extensive and he treated the culture with great respect, he felt it necessary to do some reflecting. It shows in his change of style, which is more original. He can be commended for his ability to reflect on the situation. And he’s a good artist.

Although no one person can claim to own a style, collectors and admirers of art have expectations that when purchasing work that looks distinctly like First Nations art, that the artist is native person, metis, or at least someone who has some kind of close heritage. When a totally white guy does it, it begs a few questions.

It’s certainly the case when artists apply for grants. Jurors routinely deal with having to question the authenticity and legitimate aims of the person applying. The attempt to win the hearts of jurors by aiming to help/save/comment on/celebrate/ask questions/expose, etc. any aspect of another culture is met with serious debate. Without authority on the subject and without the necessary research a jury can quickly vote “no” on the application. This happens especially fast when a member of the community that the application intends to deal with, is on the jury.

And then appropriation gets even more complicated and enters a realm where I have no experience and can only ask questions. As it is obvious when a white guy inappropriately appropriates, what’s the dynamic when first nation artists appropriate other first nations artist’s styles and subject matter? To what degree is it okay? Is there any kind of self-policing on who gets to use a style? And to what degree is native, native? How Metis is Metis? Does blood and history and tribe matter, or is the knowledge of the subject and culture more important? It’s somewhat confusing, but also very interesting.  

Con Artists in Thunder Bay

Everyone is ringing in the New Year with a high degree of oversight. So much stake was put into the end of the Mayan calendar’s 13^th Baktun, 12/12/12, and since our hotels don’t have a 13^th floor, and some people suffer from triskaidekaphobia (fear of anything associated with the number thirteen), then one has to wonder why there has been no emphasis put on our new year of 2013. Logically, especially if you are superstitious, then 2013 should be an unlucky year for all of us.

Well one way to be lucky is to be a bit of a skeptic, and to be prepared. The art world attracts all sorts of wannabes, new agers, gurus, and con artists. The trouble with con artists is that some don’t know they are con artists.

Con artists lack empathy, and although some start with legitimate aims to help others, it’s always with selfish motives, involving a complicated mix of insecurities, the need to be appreciated, a reliance on the help of others, and always feeling disenfranchised by society. They are doomed to fail, not because they are unlucky, but because they are extremely self-centered. They dream big, brag about their achievements, if they have any, and if not, they tell lofty tales about who they are associated with, and what they will accomplish in the future.

They can be very convincing; especially to younger and eager artists who haven’t learnt that not everyone claiming to do so wants to help them. This is why when someone gets ripped off it comes as such a shock. And the con artists have learned how to make the victim feel it was their fault. Con artists justify coercion, fraud, theft and lying as a balancing act of fair play, bringing fairness back to the universe, for themselves. And with no empathy, they don’t feel anything for their victims, even young victims whose careers could be destroyed by the trauma of the theft.

Thunder Bay has three con artists at work who have a history of ripping off artists. Currently they don’t run any galleries or picture frame shops, but they have in the past. One, who helped forge Norval Morrisseau paintings when Morrisseau was alive, is back in town after twenty years. If you want to know who they are, simply ask around in the art community. In a small city like Thunder Bay, their names are well known. For younger residents and university students and others who have moved here, it’s good to ask around before dealing with anyone claiming to want to represent them and show their work.

Also, it’s good to know that a contract, no matter how well written, can be worthless if you’re dealing with a con artist. To them it’s a piece of paper, and because they skirt the law so often, they will know more about the law than most any other artist. Although a contract in the art world isn’t worth much these days, which can be disconcerting, it’s still good to have, yet important to have it looked over by a lawyer before it’s signed.

So, if you think you’re dealing with a con artist, listen to your gut. Lots of little warning bells will sound. Get references. Ask around. And if you are conned and you want your artwork back, or the money from a sale, don’t be a victim. Call the police first, then seek out a lawyer. And if that seems hopeless, then be as nutty as the con artist. Threaten to expose them, or steal back the items. Or worse. There’s nothing that scares a con artist more than someone like themselves. The mirror can reveal a horrible reality. 

The Value of Buying Art

Thunder Bay, like many other small cities, are more likely to have artists who are in tune with their community. Artists here are getting more support as a trend for buying original art from walls in galleries, coffee shops, and other spaces, is increasing. Despite the progress, the variety of opportunities that could be offered to artists in a town like Thunder Bay, is slowed by some old ideas that die hard.

The greatest misnomer that artists bear is that their art may be more valuable after they are dead. It’s a belief that someone, somewhere, at some future date, will come to appreciate an artist’s life’s work, because the chance of it being so in the present seems slim.

According to economists who study art, such as William D. Grampp (Pricing the Priceless), it’s 95 percent, or more, likely that any artist’s work will be thrown on the trash heap within fifty years after the artists’ death, whether or not they are famous during their lifetime. So much for being celebrated after death or the art being more valuable.

However, we live in the here and now, and if artists and collectors focus on the present, not some fantasy future of appreciation, then they can get a lot out of their art, they can appreciate it for what it does, and for the enjoyment it offers in the present. If you have a couch, you sit in it, and enjoy the comfort. You don’t stand around waiting for your couch to become history, a more valuable seat after you’re dead that other people will appreciate for its aesthetics, but not sit in, because they can’t touch it when it’s in a museum space. It’s crazy.

But this is what many artists do. This is what many are taught. And that the word “modern” is still the catch-all total aim for gallery artists, it presumes that the future is always better than the past or present. The game becomes one of constant catch-up. So many artists don’t follow their instincts, or try to figure out what artists have done traditionally for thousands of years that might have kept them gainfully employed. They follow the higher authorities of today, usually originating from critics and art professionals of New York City, who are backed up by millionaires and billionaires who can afford to invest in the high end stuff that the rest of us can’t afford or don’t have much interest in.

By following what is considered to be modern or “contemporary” as it is now called, what many fine artists (gallery artists) are trying to do is get into intellectual byzantium - the place where artist go after death - heaven for artists, something similar to making it into the history books. And it has nothing to do with status obtained from earning money either. It’s a battle for status and acceptance, hopefully by the right people, which money isn’t supposed to buy. It’s similar to the way a rock guitarist would like to get into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. But for many visual artists, public appeal or basic functions is not what they’re looking for. Validation comes from erudite art professionals, not you, the public. So the aim for many artists, either taught or self-imposed, is not to service the public, the community, other’s beliefs, but to aim for this bizarre heaven.

If you want to help artists get a grip on reality, keep them rooted to the ground and community, there are methods; namely, buy the art you like. Or commission artists.

You may not realize it, but you already are. Every time your purchase a comic book, graphic novel, book of political cartoons, a children’s picture book or chapter book, a movie, video game, or even watch TV, you are investing in visual art. Thousands and thousands of artists are gainfully employed doing what artists have done for thousands of years, but now they have even more avenues other than hanging work in a gallery. Many are told or taught that popular art isn’t worthy, that the focus for artists should be on intellectual byzantium - heaven for artists. But why support this “death instinct” that we Westerners seem to have. Why not live for the day.

Luke Nicol

Luke Nicol is a soft-spoken professional artist with talent, commitment and courage, who has achieved financial stability for the last seven years with his art, an unusual feat in Thunder Bay. Most artists consider leaving the city for greener opportunities and galleries. It turns out that there are many here who appreciate local artists and original art, enough that a few artists can call themselves professionals. 

Most of Luke’s income comes from his many commissions, many garnered as a result of a solo show he had at the Thunder Bay Art Gallery back in 2009. He is represented by the Waters of Superior Gallery in Canal Park in Duluth and his work is currently on display at The Growing Season on Algoma. He paints primarily landscapes and surrealistic works where landscape and human figures are a jumping off point for free painting. Often the paintings have a spontaneous-sketch look, created with a stream of consciousness approach. They can be seen on his website, www.lukenicol.com. 

The site is great. It’s clean, direct and image based. Nicol has sold a few works as a result of having the website. The layout allows for immediate access to his consistent years of production.  

Currently, backed with a Northern Ontario Arts grant, Nicol is focusing on a series of drawings that is a thematic exploration of a kind of landscape stillness applied to the human figure. Nicol is dealing with subtleties of human activity - daily life where there is less of  dramatic statement compared to his previous works which are a mix of low brow art and a 1940s American Expressionist style, a style reworked successfully by Richard Attila Lukacs. Nicol also has a great sense of humour. Heard of Dogs Playing Poker? Nicol’s own Chimpanzee’s Jamming depicts chimps sitting sedately working a tune while human rockers are trapped in a painting on the wall wondering what happened. This and many other works can be seen on his website.

Drawings are considered a harder sell, primarily because they lack colour, and the subjects are more personal. From a collector’s standpoint, drawings are of great interest as they are the most immediate expression of an artist’s thoughts. Unfettered by the complications of colour, composition, depth, etc. they can be awkward, but shine as dramatic signature works. Also, the artist doesn’t expect anyone to see the drawings, so the artist feels more free to play with the subject matter.  

The funding relieves Nicol from having to worry about selling the final product, or taking on a part time job while he creates the work. He is free to experiment without fear of the future or worrying about family obligations. (He and his wife have two children.) Nicol has enough talent to accomplish whatever he sets out to do, and what he is working towards is the philosophical aspect to art that allows for more interpretation than his usual work. Not that there is anything at all wrong with landscapes. Nicol’s landscapes are beautiful and great representations of the area, but some artists occasionally need a change of direction once in a while. It’s a direction that may also be beneficial to an audience who get to see and ponder a subject from a unique perspective. Nicol is certainly thoughtful and knowledgeable. His future work is sure to generate worthwhile results.

More below added for this blog. 

Luke sells many prints through his website and whenever he takes part in home shows or walkabouts like the October Studio Walkabout or the Regent Street Art Show. He has a show coming up at the Pictograph gallery in Atikokan in May. He has a hard time building up enough works for a show as most of his painting is dedicated to commissions. But it’s not a bad situation to be in for an artist. 

Influences come from all over. He’s a big fan of Ingres, Durer, Rembrandt, and at the same time the lowbrow art you might find in Juxtapoz Magazine, by the likes of Robert Williams and Gary Baseman. He is a big gallery goer. He’s traveled to Europe and in the U.S., primarily California. He’s a big fan of the low brow galleries. See: www.laluzdejesus.com

Like many artist in their youth, he had the desire to reach that one big breakthrough show that put his name on a map - or at least in the mind of collectors and galleries. This kind of event is very rare, and what Luke has learned is that being consistent and taking lots of little steps will get you there - to be a success which is now a matter of making a living, doing what he loves to do. 

Linda and Marianne Brown at the Thunder Bay Art Gallery

The Chronicle Journal: Oct. 7, 2007

Two surprisingly distinct and wonderful environments have been created at the Thunder Bay Art Gallery with works not generally exalted as bona fide art – small works of craft. Light, shadow and natural debris surround these works of craft adding importance and focus, encouraging the viewer to reflect on parts that make the miniscule so much more delightful to dip into - and so much more valuable as art. The two shows organized by curator, Glenn Allison, feature the works of local artist Linda Brown and her sister Marianne Brown, from Cowichan, B.C.. Their exhibit is in the central gallery for a show titled “Well Tempered.” From Red Deer, Alberta, internationally known Canadian artists Trudy Ellen Golley and husband, Paul Leathers are featured in the main gallery for a show titled “Confluens: Flowing Together.”
Awesome small surprises of precious detailing make each piece from both shows individually grand, with a few occasional bold statements; look for the phrase “…the delivery of beauty is the teeth of risk” in the “Confluens” show and you will be happily rewarded. Look for the results of risk and beauty made with the florets of the hydrangea plant in Linda’s vessels and you will be awestruck by the malleability of metal.

In Confluens, ceramic works by Trudy called Reliquaries are inhabited by miniature metal works by Paul. The combination of talents into these Reliquaries mimic ancient Stonehenge monuments and Neolithic homes of stone, complete with doorways, awnings, and peeling stucco walls. The inhabitants have the gall to advertise their wealth with small stands in the doorways displaying layers of plates of precious metals, as in one work, the colours and pattern repeat the lavender and green web-work detail of the stone home’s outer walls. On the artist’s part, this is a welcome deliberate flaunting of beauty and technique. And, look for the gold! The use of gold in many of these works intentionally throws reflected light onto the gallery walls; cutting through dark shadows, and creates interesting mirroring effects.

Spirals are always eye grabbers. The spiral, used here as symbolic of Chinese cloud patterns, is a theme that is never redundant, so looking for spirals becomes a delightful game to see how they are incorporated: as a precious item to be kept in a jewelry box, as a gathering of clouds, a wave when perpendicular, or a cliff of reflecting interiors when horizontal.

Made worthy by their environment, vessels and jewelry created by Linda and Marianne respectively, become valuable on a par with any other art form. The instillation of actual tree branches, pinecones, and paper leaves within plexiglass boxes give an otherworldly feel. You could only hope to stumble across such a find in the bush. It’s a refreshingly novel way to display craft works. Linda jauntily recounted what a trial it was to get the displays set up and the effort was well worth it. The encasing of the works add a protective quality to the show, as if to suggest that when the lights go out at night at the gallery the security lasers are turned on.

The vessels are hammered and folded into shapes where the natural creases in the folds seem skin-like, often contradicting what metal usually suggests – strength. In these works delicacy intrudes so much into the metal that the details, the lines and etched elements, etherealize the works. This effect is also achieved with Marianne’s jewelry, slung across branches, at first seems ingloriously cast aside, but also suggest that the owners of the works have fled, and we are seeing only a portion of the time-encased results of some great transition of people of an ancient culture forced to dispense with their possessions to save their lives.

Although the works in both shows are for sale, they don’t appear to be, and this is a compliment in itself. Since the majority of craft I’ve ever seen has a price tag near and is usually displayed at a kiosk or fair, the works in these two shows appear cherished, owned or previously owned by someone who has great taste, and loves the work.

Outside the Gallery: Artist Opportunities

Artists can overlook opportunities that seem unworthy, like being asked to do a pet portrait, or asked to cover the walls of a confectionary, or when only two people show up to an opening where one is the mother trying to stop her son from eating all the host's cookies. A bad experience, even though it’s fairly benign, can end a career. On the opposite end of the spectrum, young artists can have all their work stolen; yet the artists persevere.

So galleries are sought out and seen as the appropriate career makers. They can certainly generate status for the artist, yet not always earn them money. Some commercial galleries, mostly in bigger cities can be entirely corrupt. Even public galleries, because the staff get regular paychecks from the government and not earn money from sales, often have no interest in selling the artist’s work, or even know how to. So it’s good to keep options open, and good to remember that one can be a successful and professional artist without ever having to show work in a gallery. Small venues, odd locales, and unusual experiences can have great advantages.

A nineteen year old in Vancouver paid for her university education by taking advantage of a surprise opportunity. Before she handed over her pet portrait to her grandmother, she slid the portrait into the outer clear plastic sleeve of a portfolio she recently purchased in order to see what reaction her work might get from strangers. Soon after, on a bus ride, she got a commission. From then on she kept her best work in the clear sleeve everywhere she went. Whether it was walking, riding the bus, taking the Skytrain or ferry she became a walking display and self-promoter. She charged $300 per pet portrait, taking half in advance, sometimes on the bus, and half upon completion. She was doing nearly two pet portraits a week.

It helped her to be in a big city. Yet locally, in coffee shops and restaurants, sales  can happen regularly if the prices are reasonable, or priced to match the other goods or the atmosphere. Over time works in such locations can be seen by many hundreds of people, often more than if the work were in a gallery. So it's not unusual to see the work of both beginners and professionals at these venues.

In the 1990s an artist was making more than $30,000 a year selling his work in a posh restaurant in Ottawa. Based in Victoria, a landscape painter had his work in fifty different locations, small galleries, craft shops, coffee shops and restaurants. He made more than $50,000 a year, supporting his three children. Of course, he painted like a madman. There are lots of artists like this, but they can be cagey about their success.

Artists have sold work through laundry mats, gelato shops, offices (doctors, dentists, politicians), bakeries, bookstores, banks, hotel lobbies, and their own homes as demonstrated by local walking art tours. Or like former Thunder Bay resident, Pamela Masik, a controversial artist and rare exception to our concept of starving artists, she opened her own gallery.

Masik is doing very well in Vancouver, selling her paintings for many thousands of dollars, along with creating performance art and music. She often has her silver Porsche sitting outside her gallery. If you are a collector or a reporter, her agent will give you a tour of the gallery before you meet her in person. Masik will be covered in paint and holding a glass of red wine. Masik started out with a blog and grew her fan base over many years, taking efforts to stay in the public eye.

Alexis, a co-owner of Calicos, is delighted to show local artists’ work. The artists decorate her shop and keep it fresh with a new look every month. Currently, Victoria Beldoc is showing her work of pretty birds and other animals at Calicos. She is also Calicos' contact for organizing the shows (vbolduc@lakeheadu.ca).

At other venues artists can talk to the owners. Some include; Sweet Peas (now showing Patricia Ambrose and Kathleen Beda), the Growing Season (Luke Nicol), Starbucks in Chapters (Crystal Nielson), Gargoyles (Guy Dufrense), Lot 66 (revolving show), The Bean Fiend (walls available), Portobello Home (Megan Stout), Bistro One (Leslie Shaw).

If you know of other venues showing original art by local artists, please let me know.

Nowadays: First Graphic Novel for the Region

Heads up! There are zombies in Thunder Bay! Heads get lobbed. :::Cool::: Arms and legs are severed with some swordplay. :::Awesome::: People get gobbled up by ravenous zombies. :::Right on::: And there's gun play, with small arms and rifles. :::Nice::: And even the animals become zombies. :::Radical!::: And some zombies have a sense of morality. :::What! Morality? That sucks:::

Actually, no it doesn't. This is what makes Nowadays, a 300 page graphic novel written by Kurt Martell and illustrated by Chris Merkley an original zombie tale with unexpected dimensions and humanist themes. And the themes don't get in the way of the violence and action that zombie fans crave, which graphically explode on the pages with Murkell's excellent illustrations. You can see his work at www.merkasylum.ca.

Chris and Kurt have pulled off a major feat, a massive 304 page graphic novel, a first for the region sure to inspire other writers and artists. Especially now that printing costs have dropped (outside of Thunder Bay) and the Internet offers unique methods of funding and promotion. The back pages of Nowadays credit contributors including friends, family, local businesses, the Ontario Arts Council for financial help with its production, and Indiegogo, an Internet site where arts enthusiasts pick projects they like. They were intrigued enough to contribute over $20,000.00 for the printing costs.

At first, the main characters in this graphic novel seem to have little potential for character development or for serious action. None are cops, scientists, accountants, ex-navy seals, movie stars, playboys or doctors. Good thing too. Why not be original? These are young people on their way to plant trees when the apocalypse begins. As the story unfolds the characters develop, including the dog's. The good guys separate from the bad and when they reveal their addictions, more intrigue is generated. It’s a brilliant concept is that the zombies are also addicts, but for blood, which allows for discussions of addiction, unusual fair for the zombie genre.

Kurt also brings up other philosophical questions in Nowadays without being didactic, using another unique addition to the genre: as a zombie obtains more blood, the more it is able to think, have some sense of morality and regenerate. Unable to get blood, it becomes more ugly and more likely to turn into a crazed unthinking animal chasing humans down the street.

The craving for blood, like the craving for narcotics, can bring out the best or the worst in a character who has become a zombie, especially one satiated on blood and which had no scruples when human. Without scruples it is a very deadly zombie. Along with being more powerful, it can plan and set traps. It is more frightening than the traditional zombie, harder to kill, and more evil than a vampire. Vampires are distracted by beautiful women, can't go out during the day, are afraid of crosses, holy water, and garlic.

In Nowadays, when a character first wakes as a zombie, it hears a mysterious voice, speaking the single Latin phrase, "Cruor est vox." And although brief, there's a dream sequence involving a love scene. Together these elements suggest that a higher power might be involved in the madness. It's a wonderful way to maintain suspense and offers opportunities for sequels, which could build on the mysteries.

Kurt wrote the first draft for Nowadays in 1999, originally as a screenplay; inspired by zombie movies and later from a film he starred in, Zombie Massacre (the first full length feature film to be shot in Thunder Bay in 75 years). He later married his co-star, Sarah Boyer. They now have two children. Chris Merkley worked full time for three years on the illustrations. They printed two thousand copies and have sold over four hundred copies in just a couple months, so it’s a raging success and found an eager audience. Nowadays can be found at Comix Plus, Hill City Comics, True North Community Co-op, Gallery 33, The Loop, and soon at Chapters/Indigo.

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An incredible amount of work has to be plotted for the most basic scenes, backgrounds, layouts wiht characters, placing, pacing, action, etc. Chris sticks to drawing people primarily, and uses photos as backdrops, but with some basic photoshop tricks the photos become mottled and blurred when necessary to suggest motion, and layered to suggest depth and perspective when needed. He explained that this was no easy feat, that it would have been easier to have drawn the backgrounds. He had to scout for locations, get permission to use the locales, and sort through thousands of images to pick the ones that would best suit the background for the action. This is a collage method, which is supposed to make the task easier.

Collage was first used by illustrators long before Braque and Picasso claimed to have invented it, by the likes of Maxfield Parrish, to assemble images together that might otherwise be complex to draw, and create jarring effects. Chris uses images of trees, cars, shop exteriors, shop interiors with stocked shelves, clouds and ATVs. With his drawing and photo combination, he pulls of an impressive one man show of visual art. Once in a while the backgrounds invade the foreground, but not often enough to affect the ensemble.

There's a good deal of suspense in the novel as well. One is quickly swept up. Part of this is successfully achieved by the simplicity of the drawing, where the details don't rule, and the characters are full of motion and emotion. Close ups images intersect on the same page with setting shots. Backgrounds change to suit the mood of a scene. Panels change to suit the action.

The potential for the story is crazy and complex - where morality and philosophy about what we are gets involved. Zombies that slide in and out of the ability to think and love is a great allegory for who we might be, or at least for a certain percentage of us. We are supposed to be at our best when we are at our worst, but what if that isn't true? What if when times are bad, many of us become bad? There were a great number of suicides during the first Great Depression, but some referred to these times as the greatest time of their life, where people came together to share and celebrate life, because they needed each other and were able to appreciate the little things.

Even the dog in Nowadays presents a great allegorical dynamic. The reader is unsure as to weather Kurt is giving the dog the ability to think and talk, or if it's a zombie, high on blood that makes him imagine he can communicate with the dog. It's a great way to introduce sideline stories involving animals that become zombies, yet develop human characteristics should they eat human blood.

And the reader can't help asking, so what virus is in this blood? It must be airborne. And the mysteries suggest that this could be the beginning of an alien invasion, like Day of the Triffids, but with much crueler intent. The possibilities for multiple story lines with this new concept are endless and could be developed into an extended series.

Some great lines in Nowadays are: "Thanks again for not eating me!" "It's hard to get assholes to think of anybody but themselves." "Nowadays, the monsters have no need to hide." "If nobody truly dies, what's to stop people from being their true selves."

Nowadays presents opportunities for Kurt and other writers to tread down new allegorical paths, yet keep all the bloodthirsty fun and violence - spurring more creative stories within the zombie genre. And Nowadays would make a worthwhile film.