More Than Art: Multidisciplinary artists feature the “screaming into the void” exhibition for KUUMBA

A collaboration between two multidisciplinary artists explores themes of Black identity

By Ann-Marie Njeru

On The Porch 2023 and Ronnie 2023, by Tiffany J Sutton at the Marilyn Brewer Convention Centre on February 11th, 2024 (CanCulture/Ann-Marie Njeru)

Multidisciplinary artists Aaron Jones and Tiffany J. Sutton collaborated on "Screaming into the Void," an exhibition exploring themes of Black identity, existence and the depth of shared human experiences for the KUUMBA festival. 

Aaron Jones, a Toronto-based artist, is recognized as an image builder who integrates materials such as books, magazines, personal photos and newspapers to forge captivating and unseen realities.

Tiffany J. Sutton is a Missouri-based portrait photographer who focuses on the Black gaze, placing Black femininity at the forefront through complex portraits of exclusively Black women. 

The exhibition featured separate works from both artists, representing the “Screaming into the void” theme of this collaborative process.

"I think screaming into the void meant that we were kind of yelling, we are sort of talking to a wider and whiter audience about the different varieties of Blackness within the community and the culture," said Sutton.

Sutton featured several different portraits of Black women. These photos speak about the community and the complexities they experience.  

Her work uses introspectiveness, abstract portraiture and layering photos to challenge the one-dimensional perception Black women face. She became inspired by her desire to connect more with the Black community and, more specifically, build friendships with Black women. 

Front Yard Trio by Tiffany J. Sutton at the Marilyn Brewer Convention Centre on February 11th, 2024 (CanCulture/Ann-Marie Njeru)

“It’s hard for me to make friends with other Black women for some reason, I just can't seem to manage it. I want to build a relationship, a friendship sort of thing with them and I want to build a community.”

As a Black woman, I feel heard and seen. It is very often that when expressing my emotions, someone treats me as if I can be reduced to a single stereotype; for example, the angry Black woman, a stigma many of us face. 

The overlaying on the portraits shows the complex emotions we deal with daily due to the convoluted lives we lead, all emerging from the challenges of being Black and a woman. It serves as a reminder that Black women are not a stereotype to dissect and are intricate like any other human.

Jones featured an incredible digital image, HARD DREAM, through a fusion of photorealism, whimsical abstraction and surreal fantasy.

HARD DREAM 2024 by Aaron Jones at the Marilyn Brewer Convention Centre on February 11th, 2024 (CanCulture/Ann-Marie Njeru)

The artwork explores the multi-faceted journey that humans experience. It delves into the realm of identity, immigration, spirituality, astral projection and loss and desire.

It includes the properties of Jones's artwork using newspapers, failed digital images and references from his previous work to create this profound and beautiful piece.

Jones’ piece uses a captivating blend of fantasy and science fiction, offering the viewer a deep and introspective experience. 

He invites us to reflect on our journeys and the obscurity of existence, and explore the relationship between nature and humans, nature and self and the natural world. Jones also urges viewers to reflect on ourselves, the challenges we face and how to have a harmonious relationship with nature.

When reflecting on the art piece I explored what nature meant to me and how I see myself as a part of it. As humans, I believe we must be stewards of the Earth which means taking care of nature and the people around us. The piece also speaks to the cycle of life and the co-existence of life in nature.

Turtle 2024, by Aaron Jones at the Marilyn Brewer Convention Centre on February 11th, 2024 (CanCulture/Ann-Marie Njeru)

In Aaron Jones' second work, a turtle shell symbolizes resilience, patience, and timelessness. The turtle's gradual sinking into obscurity represents the challenges faced by those who persevere despite setbacks.

The artwork encourages viewers to reflect on their determination during trying times. Standing alongside the turtle, they can contemplate the never-ending connection between nature and humanity. 

The piece is an emotional reminder of human resilience and our interconnectedness with the natural world. It is part of a broader exhibition that explores the richness and complexity of culture through the works of various artists. This exhibition aims to inspire viewers to reflect on their experiences and the human spirit's capacity for strength.

"Screaming into the Void," highlights a captivating narrative that delves into Afro-futurism and reflects on nature and spirituality. It celebrates the richness and strength of Black culture, celebrating Black women, spirituality and nature. It emphasizes the importance of diverse perspectives and interpretations in art. 

Beyond displaying individual artworks, the exhibition embodies the ongoing spirit of innovation and the boundless potential for creative expression. Both artists do a remarkable job using multimedia elements to expand on their work, showcasing the passion and creativity Sutton and Jones bring to the world of art.

‘The public has a right to art’: Review of Keith Haring’s ‘Art Is For Everybody’ on its Only Canadian Stop in Toronto

The AGO’s latest exhibit brings the protest art of Haring’s work to life 

By Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng

The AGO’s ‘Art Is For Everybody’ exhibit opened early this November and runs until March. Many of Keith Haring’s designs are featured in a wide range of merch, including this piggy bank. (Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng/CanCulture)

“Let’s go find the piece about dying,” someone said to their friend as they passed me in the hall of AGO’s latest exhibit featuring selected works from the late Keith Haring. On its opening night, the room was filled with chatter and folks moving around from room to room in the gallery. 

Haring was a pop artist active for 10 years in New York during the AIDS crisis, creating his now-iconic illustrations on public spaces like subway stations in the 1980s. 

Through the clean-cut, zig-zaggy lines of Haring’s art, the world is portrayed vividly, at its most on-edge and feeling. Many featured works represent fears of nuclear disaster, political malignancy and apartheid. 

Death, yes. But much more so, life lived while possible, life lived on a deadline set out by a careless state that didn’t care if it cut lives short. Haring’s piece mocking ‘serial killer’ Ronald Reagan was one of my favourite artworks in the entire gallery. 

Haring’s cut-out-headline work on Reagan is political dissent at its finest and funniest.  (Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng/CanCulture)

Haring’s work is instantly recognizable. The hollow outlined stick-people style he’s known, either from the art itself or your friend’s boyfriend’s t-shirt, sprawls the gallery walls and the merch shop's shelves, as you’re funnelled into the store through the exit. It’s incredible how much prolific work he managed to create in a short span of time. It’s even more staggering to think how much more work, art and life we’d have today had the AIDS crisis not been purposely mishandled. We now know that massive oversight by the United States government caused the HIV/AIDS epidemic, when they refused to initially take it seriously, according to leaked records. 

Resistance to oppressive forces in search of queer joy and liberation are intrinsic in the visuals and themes of Haring’s work. 

‘Free South Africa’ by Haring in 1985, condemning the apartheid system of racial segregation enforced by the state. . (Anna-Gisele-Funes-Eng/CanCulture)

An exhibited journal entry from Haring reads,“The Public has a right to art [...] The public needs art and it is the responsibility of a “self-proclaimed artist” to realize the public needs art and not just bourgeois art for the few and ignore the masses. Art is for everybody.”

Haring’s journal entry from October 1978, where the exhibit takes its name. (Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng/CanCulture)

With such a strong emphasis on Haring’s passion for accessible art in public spaces like subways, it’s hard to ignore the irony in the bourgeois commodification of his work present at the shop at the front of the AGO and the end of the exhibit. 

The entirety of the exhibit, Haring’s words and the volume of merch available make you wonder where the line is between creating accessibility to the art and collapsing its political symbolism. Having t-shirts or other merchandise can serve as a gateway to learning about queer history, but when does the excess of merch become overt consumerism?

Stephen Severn, an artist, PhD student and instructor at Toronto Metropolitan University, noted that the original messages of Haring’s work have been diluted despite their popularity ringing true. They say the historical context has to be considered when analyzing and consuming the art. 

“40 years later and it's still in public spaces because people are wearing it as they walk around the city […] Although I don't think that a lot of people understand necessarily the political climate that it was made in or the reasons for making the art or art as being a form of activism,” said Severn.

“It kind of becomes the Mona Lisa, just an image that's been produced constantly and kind of loses its meaning,” they added. 

Haring’s own words encapsulate the juxtaposition of the strong anti-bourgeois message in the art and the $225 French wooden chair no child would sit on willingly (for sad stiff children of the esteemed) featured in the merch stores. 

Children should absolutely learn about Haring and his art through books like the one pictured above, though I’m not totally convinced they’d want to read it from a tiny solid wooden chair. (Anna-Giselle/CanCulture)

Haring would be 65 today. He died at 31 in 1996 of AIDS-related complications. His art, life and work are not distant memories, and it’s difficult not to think about how differently the world would look if he and so many others who lost their lives to the AIDS crisis were here, living the life they deserved to. While we don’t have him here, it is integral that we honour them and learn about their stories.  

Seeing the delight of other queer folks as they explored the different sections of the exhibit and partake in that remembrance was joyous. 

The exhibit honours the basis of Haring’s work by centring the complexity of the queer experience in the explicit joy that comes from community, the joy that comes from seeking collective liberation and expressing those beliefs freely through art. 

“I am interested in making art to be experienced and explored by as many individuals as possible, with as many different individual ideas about the given piece with no final meaning attached,” he says from the wall, above a painting of Mickey Mouse pleasuring himself. 

Mickey is a recurring character in Haring’s art. At times, he appears standing in money, in an Andy-Warhol hybrid. Sometimes Haring’s depiction is used for collabs with Disney, Uniqlo and Coach.  You know, small, local, anti-capitalist brands. 

Haring did face critiques of commercialism while he was alive when opening his store, The Pop Shop in New York, according to his foundation. He responded by saying his goal was, “to continue the same sort of communication as with the subway drawings [...] to attract the same wide range of people, and I wanted it to be a place where not only collectors could come, but also kids from the Bronx.”

“No final meaning attached” leaves room for time to shift meanings. There is room to understand that a Disney Swatch with Haring’s design is not as impactful of a message as the t-shirts from the 80s encouraging people to “Act up, Fight Aids.” There is room for an interpretation that Mickey pleasuring himself represents the Disney corporation’s capitalistic craving for wealth. 

The meaning in Haring’s art may be ambiguous at times, but it extends beyond even death. His final piece, Unfinished Painting from 1989, leaves more than half of the canvas blank as paint drips down from an incomplete corner. 

Keith Haring’s Unfinished Painting was undeniably my favourite piece in the gallery. It reminds us that even in death, art and activism live on. (Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng/CanCulture)

Like all art, the meaning of this is up to you! (Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng/CanCulture)

There is no final meaning, even in death. All meaning in art is up for grabs, which Haring knew. Art is for everybody. 

Haring speaks beyond the grave; there can be no fixed or singular message. He calls us to act up, fight the power, and to do it in the community. 

And that’s a great place for everybody to start. 

Gallery visitors looked upon this piece like it was the holy grail. ‘The Great White Way’ painted by Keith Haring in 1988. (Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng/CanCulture)

People 25 and under can visit the AGO for free with the yearly youth pass. The Keith Haring Exhibit runs until March 17. 

Interview with professor Stephen Severn done by Grace Henkel

Many of Haring’s pieces depict phallic imagery, this being one of the longest showcased at the exhibition. (Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng/CanCulture)

Haring’s political messages in his art became a major slogan used in activism during the 1980s and 90s. (Anna-Giselle Funes-Eng/CanCulture)

‘Good Foot Forward’: Art Toronto Focus Exhibition Brings Visitors Down to Earth with Visceral Multimedia Works

Artists from a multitude of galleries across Canada carve a pathway through domestic spaces and handmade creation, retracing deep histories and unearthing contemporary issues.

By Grace Henkel

Art Toronto’s Focus Exhibition, “Good Foot Forward,” opened in late October (Grace Henkel/CanCulture Magazine).

Dangling from the ceilings, stretching along the floor, or creeping up along the walls, artworks at the Art Toronto Focus Exhibition generated an intimate exchange with the earth and the complex threads of human experience intertwined with it.

“Some of the works in “Good Foot Forward” direct our eyes downward toward the ground and by extension toward issues of land sovereignty and ancestral knowledge as well as the political economy of real estate, the undersides of domesticity and the labour of the handmade and assembled,” said renowned curator Kitty Scott, who brought the exhibition together.

Confronting themes like patriarchal perceptions of aging and womanhood, empowerment of queer love, and Indigenous ancestral knowledge and sovereignty to the land, "Good Foot Forward" incorporates a variety of multimedia works.

“There’s a long history of artists subverting conventions in artwork through uses of gravity,” said Jonah Strub, an artist who guided visitors through the exhibition. This has included “throwing things on the ground, [art] that doesn’t take place on a wall, that takes up space and [is] attached to the physics of the real world.”

Scott identified Duane Linklater’s “i want to forget the english language (ulterior)” as a piece that drew her to the themes explored in the focus exhibition.

“This title, written in lowercase letters, is provocative and it brings to the fore, a much larger and richer conversation about what it means to willfully want to lose a language,” said Scott.

Linklater’s piece, constructed of tipi poles, wooden and plastic crates, a museum dolly, and a chandelier suspended just above the ground, initiates tension between movement and fragility, and the deeper forces shaping contemporary life; Indigenous ancestral histories and inextricable ties to the land.

Duane Linklater’s sculpture “i want to forget the english language (ulterior)” (Grace Henkel/CanCulture)

“Diviner’s Grasses” by Charlene Vickers stands solemnly against one wall of the exhibition. The sculpture of reed-like forms is rendered from braided grasses, bamboo, strips of cotton, and human hair, mourning the tragedies of missing and murdered Indigenous women in Canada, while invoking regeneration, hope, and healing.

“Diviner’s Grasses” by Charlene Vickers contemplates grief and hope in response to the ongoing crisis of missing and murdered Indigenous women and girls in Canada (Grace Henkel/CanCulture).

Artist collaboration FASTWÜRMS explores “primordial geo-queer liberation” through their painting “Rainbow Volcano Atoll #1.” The vivid piece centres the volcano as both a generative and destructive force of nature, an allegory for realms of human self and experience intrinsically tied to the earth: queer joy, sexual euphoria and empowerment.

“Rainbow Volcano Atoll #1” by artist collaborative FASTWÜRMS, right (Grace Henkel/CanCulture)

Elizabeth Zvonar’s sculpture, “History, Onus, Old bag” calls to terminology used against women as they age, initiating a dialogue on value as perceived from outside and within. There is a stark contrast between the carpet bag, cast into a heavy, cold, unmoving shell, and the organic quality of the tree stump it rests upon.

“History, Onus, Old Bag” by Elizabeth Zvonar contemplates the weight of superficiality and patriarchal views of womanhood (Grace Henkel/CanCulture)

The process, according to Strub, represents “something that doesn’t traditionally have value,” being “[cast] in bronze to make it a commodity and a valuable object.”

Some of the “undersides of domesticity” surface with Brenda Draney’s painting “Split Pea.” The piece depicts a jarring scene of an abstracted figure in a darkened kitchen, a smattering of green escaping their blender. The piece is evocative of unexpressed anxieties and frustrations of domestic space and isolation.

Brenda Draney’s painting “Split Pea,” left, “Fell,” centre, and “Lodge,” right. (Grace Henkel/CanCulture)

Resting on a raw shipping palette, Kara Hamilton’s piece “Nothing is Wild” presses brass instruments between a canvas cushion, with the opening of the instruments peeking out underneath, vaguely reminiscent of something living and organic beneath the constraints of commodification.

Kara Hamilton’s piece “Nothing is Wild” (Grace Henkel/CanCulture)

The Focus Exhibition title selected by Scott, “Good Foot Forward,” is borrowed from lyrics in Bob Dylan’s “Gonna Change My Way of Thinking.”

“In a time of great change, high anxiety levels and deep despair, art offers a different register and new perspectives. What will lift us out of the current situation we find ourselves in?”

— Kitty Scott, curator

Kitty Scott, curator of the Art Toronto Focus Exhibition (Craig Boyko/Courtesy of Michael Usling)

CanCulture had the opportunity to do an email interview with Curator Kitty Scott, who brought this year’s Focus Exhibition together:

What conversations are you hoping to spark through the Focus exhibition?

Group exhibitions have the ability to do many different things. They call on us to think about individual art works and the distinct ways in which artists are makers. They ask us too, to look at the whole and the meaning inherent in these objects as they are read one after the other. Duane Linklater’s work is titled, “i want to forget the english language, ulterior.” This title, written in lowercase letters, is provocative and it brings to the fore, a much larger and richer conversation about what it means to willfully want to lose a language. If we start to look closely at the objects in the work we see the makings of a tipi, a dolly, a box, a chandelier….

As the Focus exhibition’s title, “Good Foot Forward” emphasizes making contact with the land and with others, how do you hope the themes explored will resonate in the post-pandemic world that is returning to tangible spaces and experiences?

Some of the works in “Good Foot Forward” direct our eyes downward toward the ground and by extension toward issues of land sovereignty and ancestral knowledge as well as the political economy of real estate, the undersides of domesticity and the labor of the handmade and assembled. In a time of great change, high anxiety levels and deep despair, art offers a different register and new perspectives. What will lift us out of the current situation we find ourselves in?

What aspects of the subject matter, whether technical or thematic, did you find most compelling when putting together the exhibition?

I greatly enjoyed the time I was able to spend with art and artists in the process of making the exhibition. Art and artists open up new ways of looking at the world. We are in immense need of new ways to see and understand the places we inhabit. I am looking to the artists.

Are there any aspects of the exhibition that resonate with you on a personal level?

In recent years I have found titles for exhibitions in the world of music. The title I used for the Liverpool Biennial, “Beautiful World Where Are You” came from a book I was reading on Schubert. “Good Foot Forward” was borrowed from one of my favourite Bob Dylan songs, “Gonna Change My Way of Thinking.” Listen to it…

Do you believe in fairies? Visit this enchanting exhibit in downtown Toronto

With less than a month left, don’t wait to visit Mischief and Mirth: The Wonderful World of Fairies this February

By: Julia Lawrence

(From In Fairyland: A Series of Pictures from the Elf-World, Richard Doyle)

Discover the origin of fairies and explore their magical history at Mischief and Mirth: The Wonderful World of Fairies until Feb. 26. The exhibit is held at the TD Gallery within the Toronto Reference Library, under the Toronto Public Library (TPL).

The gallery’s exhibit focuses on the myth and magic of fairies within rare books, prints, writing and original artwork from TPL's Osborne Collection of Early Children's Books, Merril Collection of Science Fiction, Speculation & Fantasy and Arthur Conan Doyle Collection.

As it covers the sightings and portrayal of fairies in a detailed storyline from records dating back from the 13th century to the modern-day story, visitors learn the backstory of the multi-faceted creature and how it has been woven into our history.

A main theme throughout the exhibit is its efforts to not only show the “magical pixie dust” face of these characters but also how fairies have been portrayed to be tricksters with not-so-friendly intentions.

One of the gallery texts says this common, protagonistic depiction was largely due to, “an abundance of children’s stories with friendly winged fairies,” being published in the Victorian era.

“Stories from this period emphasized that fairies were good and friendly. At the same time, stories about fairies for adults were turning to darker folkloric roots. A clear division between small, winged fairies and those who were not began to arise,” TPL added.

Mischief and Mirth also share stories about the well-known Tooth Fairy, fairy godmothers, magical realms and fairies played on stage.

For an in-depth visual learning experience, discover more about the land of fairies at TPL’s Mischief and Mirth: The Wonderful World of Fairies this February.

Can’t visit in person? View select exhibit items through TPL’s virtual tour.

(Julia Lawrence/CanCulture Magazine)