Tag Archives: Musée des beaux-arts de Montréal

Master Masks

One of the joys of living where we do is being surrounded by woodland neighbors. For the most part they are shy, so we only hear them or see evidence of their presence. It’s a lucky day when we actually catch a fleeting glimpse of one of them going about their business.

4:37 AM, 05.05.2021 My husband has a game camera that he moves from place to place in our woods. In the wee hours of an early May morning a couple of years ago, he captured video of a bear, fox, raccoon, fisher cat and porcupine, all making their rounds at different times during the same night. We loved that they all chose to cross one of his bridges, rather than keeping their feet on the ground. Owls and pileated woodpeckers are less quiet and less elusive, but no less thrilling to see.

It was hard not to think of the animals who share their homes with us while visiting master carver Dempsey Bob’s retrospective “Wolves”, at the Montreal Museum of Fine Arts. The beauty and skill of his work is beyond spectacular. His poetic use of line interweaves forms with deceptive simplicity, conveying both depth of character and a seamless alliance between the conjoined animals.

Wolf Chief’s Hat © about 1993, Dempsey Bob, Red cedar, acrylic paint, operculum shell, horsehair, leather, ermine. Collection of Eric Savics

Eagle Chief’s Robe © about 1992, Designed by Dempsey Bob; Made by Linda Bob, Melton cloth, leather, abalone shell buttons, acrylic paint, deer hooves. Collection of Eric Savics. I couldn’t resist including this textile collaboration Bob created with his sister.

Each wooden surface is burnished to the sleekness of glass, its smoothness amplified by the textural attributes of the other natural materials he incorporates.

Wolf Eagle Frontlet © 1996 Dempsey Bob, Alder, acrylic paint, abalone shell, sea lion whiskers. Collection of Eric Savics. From the exhibit label: “Dempsey Bob has said, “I am a Wolf because my mother was a Wolf. …And her mother was a Wolf. … We get our clans and our traditional names, and also our songs, from our mother’s side of the family.”

Mosquito Mask © 1989 Dempsey Bob, Alder, acrylic paint, sea lion whiskers. Collection of Rod and Kira Dales. From the exhibit label: Deftly carved out of alder wood, one of Dempsey Bob’s most elegant and expressive works, Mosquito Mask exalts the lowliest form of pestilence in high style. The acutely concentrated features of the warrior figure below are dissected by the elongated beak of the mosquito above. Both faces are from a dream world and embellished with sea lion whiskers. “The warrior defended his village by slaying a fearsome monster, chopping his body up and burning it,” says Bob, adding, “The floating cinders became the stinging nuisance we know today.”

Eagle Transformation Mask As one moves around to the left of the above mask, a transformation appears.

Wolf, Frog, Bear, Eagle, Hawk, Raven, Shark, Killer Whale, Salmon and Beaver are all central characters in the cultural stories Bob’s pieces relay. The incorporation of sea lion whiskers, fur, hair, abalone and operculum shells — gifts from the animals themselves — add to the stunning beauty of these pieces while underscoring the native stories they reference.

As a viewer, I couldn’t help but feel reverence — for the work as well as for the creatures depicted. Intentional or not, Dempsey Bob’s art is a reminder of the essential role all creatures play in our collective histories and futures, and of the respect we owe them.

For more depth, this hour-long interview is filled with humor and history. Plus, in a segment that particularly resonated with me, Bob talks about the importance of drawing as a foundation for seeing and for making any type of art. To my mind, that’s the secret that says it all.

Can’t make the exhibit? There is a catalogue.

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…And considering my ongoing series, the cherry on top was this mask.

Old Woman Mask ©1974 Dempsey Bob, Alder, moose antler, copper, abalone shell, human hair, moose hide. Private Collection. From the exhibit label: Dempsey Bob’s teacher Freda Diesing was known for her remarkable Old Woman masks, which he paid homage to in this early work. The labret in the woman’s lower lip designates her high rank.

First steps on my next…

Serendipity

During my first months at college the world began to crack open.
Taking the obligatory introductory courses, each as different from the others as you might expect, I remember coming back to my room one afternoon and realizing that, despite their apparent disparity, threads of information were weaving together and overlapping such that a web of connection was beginning to form. Rather than merely providing separate pockets of information to be remembered for the inevitable test, a pathway was suddenly opening toward seeing the world as a unit composed of links and associations layered upon each other, offering a widened and enriched viewpoint reliant upon that interdependence. It was a seminal moment that has stayed with me.

Since then, it’s always a joy when unexpected associations appear between seemingly unrelated events/subjects, the discovery of which elevates the routine with a bit of the magical. Visiting Montreal this past weekend was one of those occasions when serendipity held the reins. Partway through the weekend I realized that the three major events we attended could not have been more interconnected, even though I wouldn’t have thought so at the onset.

VOLTA Cirque du Soleil photo credit: Patrice Lamoureaux

First, Cirque du Soleil never, ever, disappoints. An example of sensory enrichment on overload, the troupe’s mastery of color, light, sound and daring physical feats is unsurpassed. At a time when I sometimes feel we are sadly in danger of building immunity to a state of wonder, due mainly to our media-driven saturation of deadly events and despicable behavior world-wide, it is utter pleasure to put aside any jaded perspectives for a couple of hours in order to experience the pure joy of human creativity. The current show, Volta, “is a story of transformation. It is about being true to oneself, fulfilling one’s true potential, and the power of the group to make that possible. It celebrates freedom as a movement”.

In hindsight it makes total sense that, in the midst of the surplus of color and visual excitement on view in Chagall: Colour and Music at the Musée des Beaux-Arts, I began to draw parallels with what I had seen under the big tent the night before. So much more than a chronological compilation of a lifetime’s work, the Chagall retrospective is also an extravaganza of color, light, sound (Chagall’s lifelong devotion to music was an integral part of his work), and daring physical feats — as seen in the trapeze artist below, or in the soaring lovers so often associated with his work.

Standing in a room devoted to paintings of the circus, the proverbial lightbulb went on as I realized that Chagall, who had escaped to the United States just in advance of World War II, created art that offered a source of respite and joy amid a world seemingly run amok. And similar to Cirque du Soleil, his work honors the principle Volta espouses: being wholly true to oneself. Reading the following quote on the wall of a gallery filled with Chagall’s circus collages and paintings made the connection with Cirque du Soleil all the more meaningful:

The Circus as a Metaphor for the World
Depictions of the circus, present in the imagery of Chagall’s earliest creations and an essential theme until the end of his life, arose from his vision of the world firmly rooted in Hasidism. This branch of Judaism conceives of the world as a game of divine will and apprehends God through overflowing joy, ecstasy, singing, dancing, music and acrobatics. For Hasidim, clownishness and humor are the incarnation of spiritual values that ensure the salvation of humanity. Traveling performers and musicians enlivened religious celebrations with their little shows in which biblical themes were intermingled with comic interludes, pantomimes and humorous plays accompanied by music.

Marc Chagall

And while I was aware that Chagall had worked with stained glass toward the end of his life (read about the windows he created for the Art Institute of Chicago in this post), there was much I didn’t realize. He also designed tapestries and was a sculptor and a ceramicist. His love of opera ultimately pulled him from a deep depression and an inability to create after the sudden death of his first wife. His return to work involved designing extensive costumes and sets for multiple operatic and balletic productions, culminating in the creation of a nearly 2,600 square foot painting that now graces the ceiling of the Paris Opera House. Immersed in his colorful world, which honored music as much as visual art, the fact that he had synesthesia makes perfect sense.

Fox costume designed for the ballet Aleko, Marc Chagall

As a final nod to the power of imagination and creative spectacle, we were incredibly fortunate that our visit coincided with the weekend that the giant marionettes of Royal de Luxe (a street theater company based in Nantes, France) roamed the streets of Montreal as part of its 375th birthday celebration. Leaving the Chagall exhibition, we made it to the Place des Arts just in time to get a ‘ring-side’ seat for the arrival of the Deep Sea Diver. Despite his enormity (50 ft.?), he was spectacularly deft as he strode into the square with eyes that blinked and seemed to look right at you. The acrobatics of 20-30 handlers, swarming over him like Lilliputians, brought him to life, enabling his movements via pulleys and ropes. They did nothing to break the spell he cast on the crowd and I don’t think I’m being too dramatic to say we could all only gasp in awe to be in the presence of a living giant.

The Deep Sea Diver arrives at Place des Arts, Montreal

Deep Sea Diver by Royal de Luxe

The word circus derives from the Greek kirkos, meaning “circle” or “ring”. How appropriate that these three exhibitions formed an unexpected circle of connection between each other, looping back and forth in their collective presentations of color, light, sound, and daring physical feats. And how serendipitous to have experienced them all in a single weekend.

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The exhibition Chagall: Color and Music runs through June 11, 2017

Cirque du Soleil Volta will be on view in Montreal through July 23

A Feast for the Eyes & Food for Thought

This past weekend we left the fireworks behind and ventured north for the Montreal Jazz Festival. I also had the ulterior motive of checking out “Pompeii” and “Toulouse-Lautrec Illustrates the Belle Époque” at the Musée des beaux-arts de Montréal.

They are both wonderful exhibits. The artifacts from Pompeii were extremely moving, not just for their incredible preservation and accessibility to a daily life we can all relate to, but also for the sheer beauty and, in many respects, almost contemporary feel in much of their design. Across the hall, I was in total awe over Toulouse-Lautrec’s facility with line and mesmerizing compositional skills. And because various states of many of his prints are on view, there is an enhanced opportunity for learning. To tell the truth, after being surrounded by so many posters of Parisian life, I left his exhibit feeling a touch of Paris-envy. (And how better to scratch that itch from far-away Vermont than with Paris Breakfasts? Carol Gillott’s world of patisseries, watercolors, and ‘la joie de la vie à paris’ is a visual confection.)

Now that I’m back at work, there has been a lot to think about, especially after a weekend exposed to such artistic mastery – both visual and musical. I keep a folder on my laptop of various quotes and passages — thoughts that resonate and, depending on the circumstance, often provide the perfect reinforcement in the studio when needed. As I’ve been stitching this week, humbly plugging away, the following two ideas keep running through my mind:

“Don’t play what’s there, play what’s not there.” – Miles Davis

And this from M.C. Richards’ Centering in Pottery, Poetry, and the Person:

“There are many marvelous stories of potters in ancient China. In one of them a noble is riding through a town and he passes a potter at work. He admires the pots the man is making: their grace and a kind of rude strength in them. He dismounts from his horse and speaks with the potter. ‘How are you able to form these vessels so that they possess such convincing beauty?’ ‘Oh,’ answers the potter, ‘you are looking at the mere outward shape. What I am forming lies within. I am interested only in what remains after the pot has been broken.’ It is not the pots we are forming, but ourselves.”

Wise words for keeping me on track. Can you relate?

Elizabeth Fram

Eye of the Needle

Tag Archives: Musée des beaux-arts de Montréal

Master Masks

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Serendipity

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A Feast for the Eyes & Food for Thought