Elemental Opening Day

Elemental Exhibition

When you attend an indoor art exhibition, the weather outside isn’t particularly critical. But when you’re serving two kinds of gelato cones to guests (as well as prosecco, tiramisu cheesecake, biscotti, lattes, espresso and Italian sodas) it’s a nice touch when it’s a brilliant warm and sunny day (it was) and they can socialize on the patio.

Not that I remember eating or drinking anything nor hanging on the patio for that matter. The two-hour private view flew by and what I know is this: I didn’t speak with all of the guests and I didn’t take enough photographs so I could remember who was there. This leads me to make a Note to Self: when you’re having an exhibition you need to arrange for ANOTHER PHOTOGRAPHER to shoot the event. Otherwise, you’re in danger of either a) having few photos to show for your hard work (that was me) or b) having many photos and realizing you didn’t fulfill your social obligations, which is really unfortunate because I think that’s the point of the private view/vernissage, isn’t it?

I also realized that I need to brush up on how to work a room. Unlike the night before when we’d finished hanging the exhibition and everyone had left and I was sitting alone with the work (and glowing), the social viewing left me with a different feeling; it felt anti-climactic. I thought it was awfully generous of people to show up in the first place, and it looked like everyone was having a good time without me, and perhaps it was the promise of amiable company and excellent food and drink that really was the draw. And I’m perfectly fine with that, too.  That makes me kind of happy.

But it made me think of the origin of vernissage, which, at 19th century salons, was the day before the exhibition opened, when the public was invited to visit and engage with the artists as they touched up and varnished their paintings.  I like that sense of inclusion in the artistic process, of friends and patrons seeing a work in it’s unfinished state; it’s a more intimate and participatory approach to viewing art.

What if people came to the installation and ate and drank while they watched (or maybe even helped)?  Wouldn’t it be exciting to see the work unpacked and view the process? And couldn’t advice be solicited around arrangement of the work like I naturally did with my installer-friends? (“No, I think that one should be there and this one here”).

It would create an anticipatory slow-reveal instead of the voracious gobble, chew and spit out when taking a room in all at once. Could it build engagement with the work? Reveal connections between the pieces? Would it temper snap judgements?

I know there will be a next time (and a next time and a next time) for my exhibition openings. So next time I’m going to try something a little different.

Elemental Exhibition Andrea Cordonier
My friend and mentor, Dave Andrews, pops by for a pre-crowd look and “our” work
Elemental Exhibition Andrea Cordonier
This is Sam, who works with Dave, and knows my work almost as well as I do
Elemental Exhibition Andrea Cordonier
Lorenzo beneath his portrait
Elemental Exhibition Andrea Cordonier
The moment I realize I haven’t been snapping any photographs…

 

 

 

 

Elemental Thanks

Elemental Photographic Andrea Cordonier

Conceiving and organizing this show presented a great opportunity for me to begin to learn the biz from the ground up.

These are the people who showed me great kindness, who answered my endless questions and provided physical and mental labour to bring my first solo exhibition to fruition. This was a Big Deal and I am very grateful.

With special thanks to:

Dave Andrews of Digital Art & Restoration Ottawa for his exquisite advice, careful eye and unbounded generosity in investing time (hours of talk therapy!) in helping me jump feet first into the professional ranks of fine art photography.

Sam Hopkins, Dave’s right-hand man, for his kind encouragement and unsinkable positivity and for keeping the wheels on the bus going round and round.

Paz and the staff at Framed!, not only for their impeccable work, but for patiently responding to my repetitive questions about framing and installation best practices.

Terry and Lee at Geronimo for having the BEST space  and most welcoming coffee house for miles around. A special thanks for their patience in letting me “do my thing” in prepping the walls for the installation.

Lulu Hastings for being my perpetual sounding board and voice of reason: smart, thoughtful, unflappable, forthright, persistent, reliable and more fun than a barrel of monkeys.

Maitri Devi Tricya Morrice at TriWolf Shanti Healing for being a one-of-a-kind exquisite human being, a bringer of magic and beautiful energy. She lights up every room she steps into.

Eric Innanen for his humour, persistence and generosity of time invested in the Great Renovation Hoopla.

Jacob Dunning who dropped everything to help with the installation.

Chris Chinkiwsky at COBA for his enthusiastic and good-natured design help.

Craig Lane for his valued advice from afar.

My family who (mostly) willingly rides shotgun on my daily adventures.

Primping and Prepping for Elemental

Elemental Photographic

Geronimo Coffee House and Gallery inhabits the most beautiful space in Old Town Kemptville. The building dates from the late 1800’s and is blessed with super-high ceilings, a plate-glass front window that streams the light, a period bar, original floors and fixtures and a 40-ft long exposed brick wall. It’s charming in all the right ways.

Owners Terry and Lee took a leap-of-faith when they agreed to let me re-work  the main wall in preparation for my exhibition. I am a construction carpenter (I graduated from tradeschool a few years ago) so I do know what I’m doing. However, old buildings being what they are, it’s always a crapshoot when you touch anything. Drywall had been slapped over the existing lathe and plaster, making the walls sit proud of the trim. The drywall had to go.

Two long-weekends later, working while the shop was closed, it was done. The result was a simplified and more cohesive look. Of course I could have kept going and going, picking away, because vintage buildings are like that. There’s no such thing as perfection.

Elemental Photographic
A first peek at what’s behind the drywall…
Elemental Photographic
Could be worse…
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Many, many coats of fill…

Elemental Photographic

Elemental Photographic
Primer, more fill, more sanding, more primer…
Elemental Photographic
Final coats of paint

Up next – installation begins