Make friends with your past

Art exhibit cleanses the palate of repression

William O’Donnell, staff

Restructuring the Past, the latest exhibit presented at the Martha Street Studio features only two artists’ work, that of Frank Mikuska and Calvin Yarush, respectively. On all of its promotional material, this quote from Katherine Govier is featured: “[t]hey were such old friends they weren’t really friends anymore, they were refugees from a common past. They were individuals with ever diverging beliefs locked into a treaty of mutual defence.” Suggesting a powerful sense of conflict, I supposed the quote would relate to the two artists. During my first tour of the gallery, I found myself ignoring this quote and most any labels within the gallery, for the creations seemed to hold greater and more complex meaning than any label or quote could summarize or try to explain.

Mikuska and Yarush’s art is mixed together rather informally, completely contradicting any feeling of conflict I initially sensed. This method of presentation aided my appreciation of Yarush’s work in particular. At a quick glance, Yarush’s pieces could appear to be separations from one ultimate canvas, puzzle pieces if you will, that could be joined together to form a largely black mass of India ink. These bleakly coloured but highly textured pieces work great separately. I kept envisioning them as being wonderful wall art for most any home, not because of any Ikea placidity they resembled, but because of the way that they can, with different glances of the eye, either blend into the wall or stand out profusely.

This “homey” (for lack of a better term) sensation is something I felt from all of the pieces. Each one of Mikuska’s abstract prints had this mystical way of taking my memory back to several homes I had visited in the past where I became fascinated by some sort of abstract art. Like the way I used to stare at the patterns in my grandmother’s tile floor in the hopes of seeing a face of some sort.

Such romantic notions of nostalgia suddenly made the gallery’s theme of “past” and “memory” hold a meaning, subjectively personal as it may have been. I suppose one is supposed to always find their own meaning in art, that is “the point” according to many artists and lecturers (I was also taken back to many an art class in my memory).

My enjoyment of the creations was greatest when a piece seemed to be less definitive in its emotion or mood. Not to necessarily suggest a complete sense of ambiguity, but something of that sort, allowing my aforementioned nostalgia and interpretations to plant themselves into both the art and my emotional reactions.

Being alone in this relatively tiny gallery was an asset. I was followed only by the hollow echo of my boots, as I toured the gallery many times over, getting more enjoyment from them at each pass.

Located at 11 Martha St. (tucked around the theatre district), this is a tough gallery to find and easy one to miss. You have until Feb. 15 to come find your own meaning in this fine gallery.