Hugh Alcock: In the Dusk of the Woods / Gallery 1313

This review originally appeared in ARTORONTO.CA in December 2019

‘They can’t see the forest for the trees’ is an expression applied to someone who can’t understand the whole because they’re too engrossed in the parts. This conventional wisdom elevates the understanding of patterns over the focus on particulars. Hugh Alcock’s work suggests the opposite: he argues for the virtue of detail. In his show at Gallery 1313, he brings out attention to bear on the intricate patterns and textures within forests.

Installation view of Hugh Alcock, In the Dusk of the Woods in the Cell Gallery at Gallery 1313

Alcock’s installation asks us to follow the artist in looking very closely at trees. Large drawings adorn the walls of the gallery and a wood and burlap sculptural figure stands on the floor. The drawings are heavily worked with several layers of chalk, charcoal, and subtle hints of colour. In these images, we are in the midst of dense thickets and undergrowth. It’s the kind of forest where we push through branches that reach out to scratch skin and catch clothes. We’re deep inside the forest, only glimpsing fragments of sky while dense vegetation limits our vision to foreground details.

“Glen Nevis, Scotland”, 2019, pastel and charcoal on paper, 40 x 64 in

There is a serenity and stillness in these images and yet the linework and geometry in Alcock’s depictions illustrate that there’s a dynamic living process at work, if at a pace and timescale that we cannot perceive.

Alcock bases these drawings on photographs taken during walks in the woods. Often, elements from different photos have been combined into one drawing.  Each drawing starts with a thin wash of pigment over thick watercolour paper.  This background sets the general colour cast of the image and informs some of the layout. In “Dead Tree, Rouge Valley” for example, drips and streaks in the pigment determine the arrangement of the trees and branches. He builds up detail with dark charcoal lines and white pastel as well as a restrained application of greens and browns. 

“Dead Tree, Rouge Valley”, 2019, pastel and charcoal on paper, 40 x 60 in

Alcock explains that his work reflects a careful study of the forest rather than an expression of personal artistic intent. His work closely examines the shape and texture of branches, bark and leaves while resisting the conventional constructs of what we might expect ‘beautiful landscapes’ to be. Alcock see trees as “emblematic of the natural world, that is, the world independent of us and our narrow interests and preoccupations.”   

“Devon Woods”, 2018, pastel and charcoal on paper, 36 x 50 in

More recently, Alcock has extended his interest in trees to the production of sculptures, one of which occupies the floor of the gallery. Alcock collects sticks and small branches that he finds interesting. He feels that each fragmentary piece tells a story – it shows the history of its growth and development; it hints at how it fit into the larger system of a tree. He arranges these individual sticks into groups and assemblies according to his own particular aesthetic and structural rules. The structures are held together with simple hardware and are then fleshed out with burlap fabric and baling twine. Of these assemblies, the artist says that they “resemble animated creatures. Maybe they are manifestations of what in mythology are called ‘tree spirits’ or ‘drayads’.” 

“Sculpture, Untitled # 2”, 2019, wood burlap and twine, 34 x 36 x 64 in

Again, as in the drawings, the work evolves through the careful study of trees and branches. The sculptures are the result of the materials and the rules of the process. The artist acts more like the editor rather than simply the author of the work.  

“Forest, Dorset”, 2018, pastel and charcoal on paper, 36 x 72 in

Alcock acknowledges the irony of presenting an experience of nature in the mediated and sanitized environment of a gallery. He emphasizes that the work is not intended as a simulation of nature, but rather a study of it. Unlike photography, a drawing gives us insight into how an artist has experienced a scene. As we follow the lines and marks, we’re following the perception of the artist and for a moment we can see the world through somebody else’s eyes. This aspect of drawings, this borrowed vision, can only help enrich our own experience and bring us closer to see the world as it exists “independent of us.”

Text and photo: Mikael Sandblom

*Exhibition information: December 4 – 15, 2019, Gallery 1313, 1313 Queen St W, Toronto. Gallery hours: Tue – Sun, 1 – 6 pm.

Joe Fleming at General Hardware Contemporary

This review originally appeared in ARTORONTO.CA in June 2019

It’s an evocative title. Silver Harley conjures the sinewy curves of chromed pipes and machinery; the near sub-sonic growl of a motorcycle engine. It’s a title that works well for this show of unusual paintings.

Installation view of Joe Fleming, Silver Harley at General Hardware Contemporary. Photo: Laura Findlay

Maybe ‘paintings’ is too narrow a category. Although they conform to the traditional, rectangular wall space, they may be more aptly described as constructions, or wall-mounted sculpture: ‘paintings++’. As you step closer, the surfaces become more complex. There is depth to them. Areas are partially and sometimes completely transparent. What are they made of? Curiosity pulls you in closer. There’s paint on both sides of a thick transparent material. Grooves have been cut into the surface and are partially filled with paint. Shadows on the wall behind become yet another layer of depth. You find yourself pulled in, just a few inches away from the surfaces figuring this all out. It’s this physical presence that makes them more things than images; that gives them their ‘Harleyness’.

Silver Harley, detail. (The surface depth does not fully translate on the photographs)

As you stand back, you discover that the markings are not random. There are images here, but they are fragmentary and complex. There are parts of cartoon figures and objects as well as graphic elements that look like letters or arrows. The effect is reminiscent of a comic book fight: a dust-cloud with arms and legs appearing at the edges. You can’t help but try to decipher these images, but they remain mysterious and only partially legible. The difficulty reading these complex images echoes the initial experience of understanding the material surface: you don’t see it all at once and the process feels like a series of little discoveries.

Untitled, 2019, enamel on polycarbonate, 36″ x 28″

The making of the pieces in Silver Harley involved several steps. The initial work was done on paper, cutting up and rearranging a series of cartoon illustrations. These collages were then scanned and transformed into graphic line art. As digital files, these graphics were used to control a computerized router that engraved the images into the polycarbonate sheets. Fleming then worked both the front and back surfaces with paint and, in some cases, power tools. The routered grooves on the front trap paint and create thick, smooth graphic lines. The paint on the back is applied in a variety of ways: as spray paint, as thick and wide brushstrokes and as solid constructivist shapes. Other layers are partially scraped off leaving a hazy translucent surface.

Untitled, 2019, enamel on polycarbonate, 20.5″ x 14.5″

Fleming’s methods allow us to follow the various decisions and choices that he makes along the way. Because the material is transparent, everything shows. The order of the application of each layer of paint is visible. The paint on the back reveals the first gestures on top with subsequent applications behind. Fleming has to be completely confident in his paint handling. Nothing can be ‘covered up’ in this process; no finicky touch-ups. Whatever went down first, stays on top.

The result can be transparent and crisp as in Micah’s Melody or almost completely opaque as in Silver Touch. As different as they ended up, these two images started with the same engraved graphic.  

Micah’s Melody, 46″ x 38″ (left) and Silver Touch, 50″ x 40″, both enamel on polycarbonate, 2019

Fleming has used technology to re-invigorate the perennial art of painting. Computers, power tools and construction materials have been pressed into service alongside the traditional paint and brush. The work is firmly rooted in the history of modernist painting with elements of both abstract expressionism and pop art. In this sense, Fleming is part of a long line of artists such as Sigmar Polke, John Baldessari, and Albert Oehlen, who have enriched the painting tradition by mixing in new materials and technologies. 

Glamping, 2019, enamel on polycarbonate, 50″ x 40″

With innovative processes, there is always the risk that the technique hijacks the work; that it distracts the artist from their original vision. Fleming maintains control and does not let the technology dictate the terms. To paraphrase Oehlen, Fleming ensures that the artist has the last word, not the technology.

Mikael Sandblom

Images are courtesy of General Hardware Contemporary

Exhibition information: June 13 – July 20, 2019, General Hardware Contemporary, Front Gallery, 1520 Queen Street West, Toronto. Gallery hours: Wed – Sat, 12 – 6 pm.

Paul Collins: Marginalia / General Hardware

This review originally appeared in ARTORONTO.CA in March 2019

Paul Collins’ show at General Hardware Contemporary represents an interesting new direction for the artist. Building on his earlier processes and techniques, he takes the work into fresh territory, offering subtle surprises along the way.

Installation view of Paul Collins Marginalia. Photo: Mikael Sandblom

On first impression, these eight paintings seem to be inspired by modernist abstraction. There are geometric connections to cubist works by artists such as Juan Gris. The arrangement of rectangular and curved shapes recalls the compositions of Ben Nicholson. One is tempted to ‘decipher’ the images.  Are there figures in these shapes? Or objects? Typography? The paintings don’t willingly resolve to a depiction of subject matter; they remain abstract, non-representational compositions.

Untitled (Felix’s Magic Bag), 2019, acrylic on Linen, 39” x 32”. full image on left, detail on right. Courtesy of General Hardware Contemporary

On closer inspection, patterns emerge within the fields of colour.  In some areas there are textures reminiscent of wood grain or, as in Untitled (Felix’s Magic Bag) soft lattice patterns. You’re drawn in to examine the materiality of the surface. Close up, you discover that the shapes are made up of fine grids. The hazy, gossamer patterns are the result of stacked grids that create interference, or moiré patterns. It looks almost like fabric, but it’s all paint, applied in a special print-like method developed by the artist.  

Untitled (Bingo), 2019, acrylic on linen, 39” x 32”. Full image on left, detail on right. Courtesy of General Hardware Contemporary

While still up close, there’s another surprise to be discovered. Each painting has a small rubber-stamped image strategically placed on the surface. Had they been larger elements within the compositions, these little cartoons would read as pop-art references, but their small size makes the experience very different. Marginalia, the title of the show, refers to comments or marks made in the margin of a text. Like a margin note, these images have the effect of adding to, as well as disrupting the main narrative of the image. They add humour to the pieces, and they may send you off again, trying to decipher meaning in these enigmatic paintings. 

Collins’ unique process is a result of continual experimentation.  Throughout his career, his work has spanned media and techniques from photography, printmaking, painting and music. Printing as painting is something that he has investigated before. In the nineties he developed a process of mono-print painting where he would create images with bubble wrap. Popped and un-popped bubbles acted as pixels when run through a printing press.

A common thread shared with his earlier work is what Collins calls ‘distanced’ painting. The idea is that there is a mediating element between the hand of the artist and the paint on the canvas. The materials that produce the image: the bubble-wrap, the width of masking tape and now the screens, stand between the artist and the image that is generated.

Six untitled collages, 2017, collage and ink on paper, 12 ” x 9″ each. Photo: Mikael Sandblom

Collins sees this new body of work as a breakthrough. It started with small collages produced in the summer while away from the studio. Made with a canvas patterned rubber stamp, they combine rectangles of overlapping coloured ink with collaged images from an illustrated book from the 60’s: Atomic Energy by Matthew J. Gaines (1969).

Searching for a method to scale things up, Collins tried ‘printing’ with various types of rough fabric onto canvas. He eventually settled on fly-screen mesh.  His process involves gently gluing cut-out mesh to the canvas, stenciling paint through it, and then pulling the mesh away. Further research went into determining the timing of the process, the requisite viscosity of the paint and the influence of other factors such as room temperature and humidity.

Untitled (Un bon fauteuil), 2019, acrylic on linen, 39” x 32”.  Full image on left, detail on right. Courtesy of General Hardware Contemporary

The process of making each piece involves giving up some control. The artist alternates between making decisions about what to do and reacting to what the paint does. To start a piece, Collins decides on the first shape and paints through it. When he pulls the mesh off, he discovers how the capillary action has moved the paint around. He then arranges the next piece and decides on a colour. If the piece overlaps the first shape, he has some control of the moiré pattern as he rotates the mesh. As the paint penetrates the mesh, random factors determine how dense and opaque the colour is. The result then informs the artist’s next move. Collins keeps going until he determines that the composition is finished. As a last step, the little rubber stamp image is added. The choice of stamp and its placement might be related to visual elements in the painting or to the creative act itself.

Installation view of Paul Collins, Marginalia.Photo: Mikael Sandblom

Collins’ Marginalia series is the result of a methodical process that is paradoxically balanced between intent and randomness. He describes his earlier work as having a defined set of steps, whereas of the Marginalia work he says, “for the first time in decades, I don’t know what is happening.” The work is disciplined by the constraints that the artist has put around the process: the consistent canvas size and background, the use of mesh for every shape and single stamped image. Within this system, the artist must react to the image as it evolves. Collins has designed a generative system where the results can not be imagined at the start of the process; where the happy accidents of technique help build the painting.

Mikael Sandblom

*Exhibition information: March 2 – 31, 2019, General Hardware Contemporary, Front Gallery, 1520 Queen Street West, Toronto. Gallery hours: Wed – Sat, 12 – 6 pm

Terra Incognita


Over this ocean the familiar lodestar of Polaris never rises. The year is 1769.  James Cook's Endeavour is exploring and charting the southern ocean.  The alien constellations of the south glimmer above the clouds.  Below, in the darker parts of the water, the wheels and pinions of clockwork appear.  Due to the careful observation of the sun and stars, in combination with the invention of a reliable marine chronometer, the crew of this ship knows where they are. 


Celestial navigation. Their immediate surroundings provide no hint to the crew as to their location.  Paradoxically, only by observing distant heavenly bodies, and by knowing the precise time on the other side of the globe, can they determine their exact location. 



Sometimes, it is only by observing that which is very far away, that we can determine where we are now. 




Mapping Newfoundland

Between 1762 and 1767 during the summer months, James Cook surveyed the coast of Newfoundland.  His ship and crew traveled around the island and precisely locating every bay and island using the new science of celestial navigation. 



The world was being captured in a map.  Every point was precisely located within the grid of latitude and longitude.  The wilderness was transformed into territory; property of the British Crown. 



But when all the world had been found, was something lost? When there was nothing left uncharted, did something else go missing?   









Joshua in the North Atlantic

Joshua Slocum's boat 'Spray' sails through an ocean that seems to be breaking apart. Between the gaps in the waves it appears as though a ship could fall into the sky.


This little ship that carried its single occupant across vast oceans tells two stories. On one hand it illustrates the resilience and ingenuity of the individual to accomplish remarkable things. On the other hand it shows how small and short-lived these achievements are on a larger scale.  The sailor is a tiny dot; the ocean is vast.  The human achievement is a fleeting journey; the ocean endures forever.


A decade after this successful voyage, Slocum and his boat were once again in the North Atlantic. He was headed for the west indies when he disappeared without a trace.  No wreckage or debris was ever found.