Utopia is unsettling. Equality will never exist but, as great humans, we can try sometimes, or think about it occasionally after work. Are ideas a commodity? We think so. What if ideas were free? Letting go of authorship is renewing a sense of freedom, encouraged by spiritual practitioners. It feels good.
This anthology gives away ideas that aren’t being used by people who think of ideas all the time. Everything within this book is public domain. You are encouraged, if you have the desire and resources, to pursue any of the ideas presented here.
Julian Hou & Tiziana La Melia
CN Tower Liquidation
Life of a Craphead
Tyler Clark Burke
Jay Isaac is a maverick ideas man who, with his recent exhibition at Paul Petro Contemporary Art in Toronto, claimed to dispense with the ideational altogether. The Zone of No Ideas, which presented an ambitious suite of 12 new paintings, dared to pursue a relentlessly â€œnon-ceptualâ€ set of painterly problems in a moment dominated by linear, neo-conceptual logic. According to the artist, his newly abstract approach and enlarged scale, is â€œthe natural evolution after reaching the limits of object making.â€ That evolution began in 2006 with a period of reinvention which saw the artist immerse himself in the present tense of observation while painting the New Brunswick landscape out of the back of his parentsâ€™ Volvo.
The â€œpresent-moment activityâ€ recorded by Isaac in those earlier, observational works could, paradoxically, be seen as a bid for the timelessness that is a central tenet of the romantic aesthetics to which the title of the artistâ€™s resulting 2007 exhibition, also at Paul Petro, alluded: â€œThe Beauty of Things, In This World, Now and Always.â€ In common with works predating that period of perceptual retrainingâ€”which juxtaposed elements drawn from disparate moments in the continuum of modernism and its pop-cultural discontentsâ€”Isaacâ€™s recent paintings do not propose a tidy reconciliation of the ephemeral and the eternal. Returning his attention to the presentness of studio practice, the artist has brought forward a longstanding engagement with science fiction, now refracted through the lens of non-representation: envisioning perceptual encounters with differently constituted beings in end times.
â€œI am a person who acknowledges changing,â€ states Isaac in collaborator Tony Romanoâ€™s timely film portrait of the artist, Beautiful Monster (screened at roughly the same time as Isaacâ€™s show in an exhibition of Romanoâ€™s recent work at Diaz Contemporary). While specifically addressing the stylistic permutations which have been a consistent feature of his career, this avowal might just as well apply to the form and content of his recent work, which reveals new contours relative to oneâ€™s vantage point. These are open-ended pieces in which past process and future reception play out on the same electric- and sherbet-tinted surface. Seemingly non-objective at first sight (all works are Untitled), the fugitive outlines of psychedelic bouquets and molten silhouettesâ€”familiar from earlier bodies of workâ€”emerge from impastoed (but only modestly gestural) underpainting and feathery surfaces upon sustained viewing.
Isaacâ€™s work has always repaid attentive looking, yet these latest works demand viewersâ€™ full attention. And attentionâ€”as Isaac, in his role as co-editor of the magazine Hunter and Cook, well knowsâ€”can be a zero-sum game in these accelerated times. Furthermore, abstraction has had a long history of running a deficit in Toronto (Painters Eleven notwithstanding). Since Bertram Brookerâ€™s debut at the Arts and Letters Club in 1927, audiences in this harried city have consistently viewed abstraction with suspicion: an eccentric commodity not worth the temporal investment. Given this context, it is all the more to be applauded that Isaac has produced such a complete and mature statement in an unapologetically slow idiom.
(from Canadian Art)