









At the harbourfront I was impressed by this wave boardwalk for children to play on ...
Another show I briefly saw was Christina Leslie's photographic series (MISSED) PERCEIVED at the Gladstone Hotel. It showcases multiple portraits and deals with satirical representations, for example the portraits reference the sambo character and representations of othering in media and popular culture. Leslie juxtaposes the sitters actual portrait with their 'caricatures'. Here are some photographs I took at the show ...





Maybe I've just become obsessed with dirty cloth & dull rags, objects that have been touched by a million different hands then set back down--right there--just for me. Things that are made by chance or found on the side of a road, rather than bought or sold. What's a story anyways? Why do people tell them?
My first memory was when I was a year old. Imagine that. Lyin' by a river bed, Arizona is hot in the summer, and even worse when you have an earache. One-year-old with no pants on, screaming and crying like it would help or something, my face bright RED. The blanket I was lying on, made of prickly pear green wool. If that cloth was still around, it would tell you a story. But its long gone, underground somewhere, tired.
I've been shittin' and pissin' for 20 years since that day. Most of the time I miss, but I "make photos" now, valued by some. Who are these people? One of my favorites is still that one my mom took, my dad cuttin' into a turkey like a man--in prison since, my grandma laughin' drunk in the foreground--dead now. I still have that one. As for why, who knows? This is where I am and what I'm doing. Everyone I've ever met is responsible for it, and those eyes of theirs--never blank--always tryin' to focus right there on the pupil. It's always difficult to get a good look at both of 'em. Go ahead and try. You'll just end up starin' right at the bridge of the nose.
The photos. I want people to see 'em just as you'd want to tell someone a good story. Nobody enjoys boredom. And when I'm good and dead, maybe my lungs'll still be around, with some words beneath. Everything comes as a surprise--thank GOD.
While Rachelle credits Vancouver-based artist Evan Lee and British artist Helen Chadwick with the technical inspiration behind the work, even more interesting is her imagery which alludes to various artistic genres and literature. Rachelle captures the morbid symbolism of 16th and 17th Century vanitas still life paintings with wilting flowers, rotting grapes, and an hourglass. The artist herself projects lifelessness by keeping her eyes firmly shut. The vanitas theme reminds the viewer that pleasure is futile and death is inevitable. Despite their foreboding qualities, the images remain undeniably beautiful and hint at a sexual tension. Blushing flower petals rustle open, suggesting a naughty peek under a woman’s shirt, and the flushed skin, tousled hair and parted lips of the artist’s face could be simultaneously interpreted as either qualities of the vanitas theme or lusty indulgences.
I felt that the work’s technique and style could refer to Evergon’s exotic Ramboy series and the recent, collaged photographs of Gilbert and George. I was subsequently reminded of Ophelia, one of Shakespeare’s most tragic heroines, and her mad descent into a watery grave. Most importantly however are Rachelle’s allusions to Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland books. Tiny tea spoons, white roses, seashells, and the infamously tardy white rabbit all appear to be accompanying Alice as she tumbles endlessly down the rabbit hole.
Joseph Anderson
Here are the six works I had in the show - Vanitas series