editorial

71 - Inventories - Hiver - 2011
Sylvette Babin

Ever since artists have sought to bring art and everyday life closer together and turned the “mundane” into an important material of their practice, collecting — a part of many people’s activities — has frequently been transformed into an artistic gesture. The collection of worthless objects, of diverse traces, or even concepts, has become the raw material of numerous artistic productions in which the observation and dissection of the real, inventorying and archiving play a dominant role. For many artists' this is not just another project, but rather a distinct tendency. It is evident that the staging of everyday and private life has not lost its attraction over the years; on the contrary it is displaying a renewed vigour, especially since the advent of new technologies and social media. Many artist inventories are thus collections of images made possible by the profusion of digital photographs uploaded on the web, which has undoubtedly become an inexhaustible supply source for image gleaners.

However, the object has not entirely disappeared from the collections regularly proposed by artists. The current issue is a testimony to this and it can in a way be viewed as a cabinet of curiosities where one will discover the traces and archives of these practices, which at times border on the obsessive. There is perhaps something contagious about this, for I myself got caught up in the game by inventorying and cataloguing the collections of several esse colleagues and friends. Let us also point out that the magazine’s graphic design is once again directly inspired by the theme. This time around it provides readers with a methodical grid, which they will certainly have fun in deciphering.

70 - Miniature - Automne - 2010
Sylvette Babin

Things tiny and things gigantic — or every entity that greatly differs in size from that of humans — have an immense power to fascinate. Perhaps it is because small-scale objects inevitably call to mind the world of childhood and the numerous miniatures it contains (dollhouses, scale models, figurines) and, by association, the phantasmagorical universe of such fairy tales as Little Thumb, Alice in Wonderland, and Gulliver’s Travels. Or perhaps it is these miniature works’ fine details and apparent perfection that create a sense of wonder. As John Mack notes in The Art of Small Things, “Enlargement magnifies imperfection; reduction diminishes it. One aspect of the miniature is that it erases such physical defects and resolves them, in the eye of the beholder, into fragile beauty.”(1) But what lurks behind such frail beauty? Are miniatures really about ideal and marvellous worlds?

The small scale of miniatures allows one to take in that which in normal circumstances would exceed one’s visual capacities. Beyond such a utilitarian function, which makes models useful in such fields as architecture, cinema, and theatre, small-scale representations afford the possibility of a panoptic vision of things normally lying beyond the visual field. As a result, new perceptions of the world are sometimes engendered. When Jonathan Swift’s Gulliver observes the customs of the Lilliputians from his “giant’s” vantage point, that society’s shortcomings come into sharp focus. Although such microcosms, be they literary miniatures or small-scale artworks, seem merely to contain wonderful kinds of worlds, a closer look reveals, in many cases, that they are in fact the stage on which particularly sombre situations are played out.

This issue’s thematic section is devoted to the analysis of a few cases of miniaturization in contemporary art. Be it due to chance or to the nature of current artistic preoccupations, the majority of projects covered are three-dimensional or photographic. Here, the works’ delicate natures will no doubt initially catch one’s fancy, and to the inattentive viewer they might remain bucolic landscapes, quaint genre scenes, or even pleasant utopias. However, in many instances a more attentive eye will discover hidden dystopias. In fact, the works at hand are a far cry from the world of fairy tales, as these miniatures reproduce very real situations. Ecological disaster, the excesses of industrialization, historical conflicts, or the undermining of modernist architecture — such are some of the issues addressed by these works — which openly sustain a form of social critique. Moreover, the essays’ respective authors argue the case for the pertinence of the miniature in contemporary art from diverse vantage points. Thus, their potentially expansive readings of these minute constructions make use of such categories as the playful, the deceptive, and the simulacral; some texts also address the beholder’s relation the intimate.

In the final analysis, to broach the question of works in miniature is to change one’s relation to space. It may well be that miniature worlds have little impact on our understanding of them when we regard them from our human scale. A closer look is often insufficient. Since we cannot become tiny at will like Alice in Wonderland and enter into these small universes, we are compelled to make use of our imagination. We are thus required to constantly shift our attention to-and-fro: as giants we seize the work in totality; as Lilliputians we take part in the situations they present.

[Translated from the French by Eduardo Ralickas]

1. John Mack, The Art of Small Things, Harvard University Press, 2007, 12.

69 - bling-bling - Printemps / été - 2010
Sylvette Babin

The interest for bling-bling art, like kitsch art which it resembles in some regards, is far from unanimous, since the aesthetic of excess, flash and glitz is generally viewed as superficial. Fron the outset, it bears mentioning that there is, strictly speaking, no such thing as a bling-bling trend in contemporary art. The term, which was initially associated with the hip-hop movement, has been taken up to describe various forms of ostentatious behaviour on public or artistic stages. It is often employed to name works that use a profusion of flashy materials, or make reference to fashion or pop culture. It also designates the phenomena of celebrification or life politics. Even though nowadays such practices abound in artistic projects presented in galleries and large international art fairs, most of the artists who make use of “glitz,” on occasion or regularly, do not call themselves bling-bling artists for that matter. Furthermore, it would be incorrect to limit the bling-bling phenomenon and works derived from it to a mere display of wealth. Although the approach proposed in this issue provides an analysis of bling-bling's aesthetic manifestation, it also widens the horizon to include various reflections on different so-called bling-bling attitudes in contemporary society.
Several texts in this issue directly examine some of our postmodern behaviour by focusing on commodity fetishism, cynical mercantilism, the excesses of contemporary art and its cult of celebrity or of financial speculation. A number of artists presented here also take up this critical position, sometimes through works whose style has nothing flashy about it. Conversely, other artists personally use bling-bling codes or exuberant staging strategies to question the figure of the artist or certain of the art market's excesses. This approach also raises questions regarding the pitfalls of using such strategies. All things considered, the use of glitz as a parody or as a means to critique the tactics of art’s mediatization reaches (or attempts to reach) similar goals to those of the works it denounces, more specifically that of receiving recognition by way of an exacerbated showiness. Whatever the case may be, it is of course with much humour that such bling-bling parodies insinuate themselves in the art system, and if they at times succeed in reaching the market they parody, their market value will most likely be closer to that of zircon than diamonds.
This publication, overflowing as it is with golden bling-bling glitz and chains, provides plenty of space for texts that are unrelated to the issue’s theme. Approximately fifteen essays or critical reviews covering various works from many disciplines and exhibitions presented in Canada and on the international scene thus complement the magazine.

[Translated from the French by Bernard Schütze]

68 - Sabotage - Hiver - 2010
Sylvette Babin
Alain Declercq, Make-up (detail), from the series Security, 2002. Photo: courtesy of the artist & galerie Loevenbruck, Paris

Despite a resurgence of art focused on the commodifiable object, practices favouring experience and politically engaged interventions are not completely absent from twenty-first-century artistic production. Among those practices often marked by social critique one finds some willing to shake up various value systems (including that of the arts) and disrupt public order, sometimes by attacking it directly, sometimes using more discreet—or barely visible—methods. The dossier presented here addresses the diverse forms of sabotage perpetrated by artists, both within and outside of the art world, and across disciplines as varied as performance, painting, installation, architecture and cinema. The infiltration of political and commercial structures, détournement, cultural dissidence, image-parasitism, questioning the notion of the signature, or scuttling one’s own project, are just a few of the strategies adopted by those practicing artistic sabotage.
The works analyzed in this issue generally have little to do with acts of material destruction or iconoclastic gestures. They are more subtle, but no less pointed, forms of sabotage in which the artist amuses him or herself with circumventing generally accepted rules—sometimes flirting with illegality, or sometimes blurring artistic codes and thus inviting us to question their role and range. Completing the idea of the artist as killjoy explored in the preceding issue, the artist-saboteur may have an even more negative image and thus one that is heavier to take on. Nonetheless, one notes that these practices lack neither humour nor a playful spirit. Moreover, it takes a certain measure of such to attack one’s own image. And, while on the subject, we opted to not merely bear passive witness to a variety of artistic sabotages, but to put them into practice ourselves by sabotaging this issue. This gesture of collusion with our graphic designers is, like all forms of sabotage, a little risky. Readers will likely find themselves disoriented to discover here, an incoherence in the normal order of pages and sections, and there, a graphic alteration of an image. This is not an attempt to trick the reader by obscuring our intentions (which would, in any case, be a mere hoax) but is rather one of trying out the concepts considered in these pages by shaking up the aesthetic comfort into which a magazine can all too easily settle.

[Translated from the French by Peter Dubé]

67 - Killjoy - Automne - 2009
Sylvette Babin

With this issue we chose to clearly mark our 25th anniversary, not by producing a commemorative publication but by focussing on the present rather than the past. A celebration of the present? Yes, but what’s there to celebrate in 2009? Aside from feeling proud of what has been accomplished, underlining an anniversary requires additional work and investment—the size of this publication proves it—yet with the same limited resources. In the context of a crisis that has ramifications in the cultural sector, the desire to celebrate is certainly not as strong. Moreover, how is it possible to rejoice when our leaders are progressively and slyly withdrawing their support to culture?(1) In such circumstances, celebration takes on a more sour, cynical twist. And so, it is under the sign of anti-celebration that esse marks 25 years of activities.

The double theme of trouble-fête (party pooper) and killjoy seemed the perfect locus for this kind of event. From a citizen perspective, we assert a critical stance against the multiplication of celebrations that tend to get lost in increasingly trivial considerations; as a cultural organization, we proclaim our indignation concerning the withdrawal of state funding in culture. As a publisher, what we want the most is to open our pages to committed texts exploring the meaning of celebration. For this reason we’ve brought together eleven authors whose writing we particularly appreciate. Some are faithful friends and contributors to the magazine, while others are first-timers. They have been invited to consider the theme not only of celebration, but also of commemoration, which is often inherent to anniversaries. In these essays, celebration is at times analyzed for its unifying potential, at times for its deceptiveness. Among others, it has a critical power that numerous artists have decided to exploit, while others prefer reactivating the festive in art—celebration for celebration’s sake. Different forms of commemoration are also studied, critiquing in passing the duty to remember that sometimes tends to make the present seem better. The resulting works and actions—re-enactments, transient memorials, spontaneous monuments or anti-monuments—testify to the multiplicity of forms possible and foreground some attempts at preserving memory through the use of the monument—a practice we thought worth questioning.

We are also publishing an impressive portfolio bringing together fourteen artists whose twenty works are particularly in synch with the theme, be it by the various codes of celebration they employ, a commemorative impact that evokes the monument or anti-monument, or a critical or ironic approach using killjoy strategies. Also, Michel F. (T.) Côté, who has always accepted the challenge of basing his “Affaire de zouave” column on our chosen themes, proposes five tried-and-true killjoy rules. Once a killjoy, always a killjoy—that’s the esse spirit.

But let’s be frank. Beyond its deliberately ironic and provoking title and its diverse critical expressions, Trouble-fête/Killjoy still underscores esse’s lasting presence on the artistic scene. After all, this 25th anniversary also acknowledges our enduring involvement in contemporary art, which would not have had the same impact without the support of our financial partners and, most importantly, of our readers. We also owe the evolution of our magazine through the years to our numerous contributors who have ensured its success, be it by participating in one issue, for one year, a decade or two. We sincerely thank you all.

1. It is impossible not to mention, aside from the important cuts in a dozen or so cultural programs a year ago in August, the obtuse policy of Canadian Heritage in regard to funding cultural magazines, which led recently to their withdrawing their financial support to esse.

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