Tonik Wojtyra Paragraph of Possibility Shaun Dacey Neela Kler

Tonik Wojtyra Paragraph of Possibility Shaun Dacey Neela Kler

Tonik Wojtyra
Paragraph of Possibility
Shaun Dacey
Neela Kler
Malika Montague
Sebastian Cichocki
Esoteric Footnotes
& Archive Primer
Paragraph of Possibility immersed Access
Gallery’s space for six weeks during November
and December in 2011. As part of the installation
I discretely and discreetly hung a small painting
into Access’s office space. Few viewers saw it.
It’s diminutive size and form apes the privately
hung signs that publicly trumpet NO PARKING
and NO TRESPASSING. Upon seeing the black
and red acrylic text work in my studio, Shaun
Dacey intuited that the work comments on the
convention of documenting social art practice and
performance art. It’s true. Often we see artworks
through crudely snapped digital photographs.
The archive for this project holds over a
thousand photos that document its conceptual
and narrative arch. Yet, after looking through
them, that body of production stills also contain
an infinite number of gaps that are necessary
to fully spell out the score of the Paragraph
of Possibility. Its endeavour from conception
to completion has been an improvisationally
scripted action whose shape can be described as
a deed. As a text work it was cast via letters, words
and sentences both written and spoken, from well
edited grants to unintelligible grunts. I realized
then that the Paragraph of Possibility is unfairly
framed by photographic documentation. This
humble introduction to the artwork’s archive like
the installation itself includes NO PHOTOS.
Tonik Wojtyra, January 2012
Paragraph of Possibility
with the residents of Ross House & the youthful energy
of the Urban Native Youth Association Monday night
drop-in-art class.
2011. Vowels, consonants, poetry, Joan & Jalene
arranging sentences, dot dot dots, Bob’s insights about
the global economy, Charles’ insights on the social
labyrinth, UNYA laughter, 313 Alexander Street conversation over Jeff‘s cooking, a porno cop moustache, the
way Ross’ eyes smile ying yang love when I’m walking
to the back garden where Cait works her soil magic,
colours, Cease’s giggle, offset print, satin paper, printing it with Boris, edition of seven billion or so.
73.6 x 52.1cm
我有一个梦
流浪的旅途中我想望
草莓和奶油
虛假的希望使我血灑心虛
絆倒在哪石頭門上
絆倒在同樣的往常
面對著同樣的法西斯統治
同樣的統治 統治 統治
我轉身超越視覺的來源
為了找到希望的起源
剎那間誠惶誠恐
我幻想誠實
我幻想優勝
我在誠惶誠恐中成熟
如同慢 停 行
這個世界千變
大江河流聚集成血
從龐克到白領到老天
我們想要的是七月的雪
一個正式的和平
一個擁抱的戰場
提前領款
草莓和奶油是最完美的
因為政治永沒答案
現實是錯誤的
詩詞才可解答所
夢是真實的。
Ja mam marzenie...
Podróż dystansu za kręciło mnie poza truskawki z śmietaną
Fałszywe nadzieje z kierowały wykrwawić się w przestrzeńi
żeby pukać w zawalone drzwi
żeby pukać na te same nie nie nie
żeby odpowiadać na te same faszystowskie reguły
te same reguły reguły reguły
Zwróciłem się do żriódła po za wzrokię
żeby odkryć coś którę mi da nadzieje
Okazja w niepokóju
Nie próbowałem uczciwości
Nie próbowałem zwyciestwa
Dojrzaje teras w spokóju
To jest tak jak by zwalniać stop
Słowa zmieniaję kształt
i
start
Nasza krew leci rzeką jednym kolorem przez kołó kolorów
od chuliganów do białych kołnierzy do zupełnego białego światła
Chcemy wrzyscy śnieg w lipcu
swięty spokój
armaty miłosci
mieć forsy jak lodu
truskawki z smietaną kompletnie są skorelowane
Polityka nie ma pojęcia
Poetyka rozwiąże wrzystko
Rzeczywistość jest błedne
Marzenia są prawdą
v
MESSY
Created and conceived in collaboration with
the community of Ross House (a small single
room occupancy residence) and the Monday
night drop-in art class at the Urban Native Youth
Association (UNYA), Tonik Wojtyra’s Paragraph
of Possibility was to stand as a public monument.
Initially proposed as a text-based public neon
to be installed on the exterior of the Downtown
Community Courthouse at the intersection
of Powell and Gore in the Downtown Eastside
(DTES) of Vancouver. Conceptually, the neon
sought to engage the need for new dreams in
the wake of the supposed failure of the iconic
American dream. With housing bubbles, bank
bailouts, and high unemployment continuing to
batter the psyche of North Americans the idea of
everyone having equal opportunities to succeed
seems more a distant utopian fantasy rather than
a current or even past reality.
In theory, the Paragraph’s monumental bright
light (green-powered by a set of stationary bicycles
installed in the atrium of the courthouse) would
highlight new positive and uplifting dreams
written in collaboration with Ross House and
UNYA, presenting the voices of marginalized
communities within Vancouver, communities
who are constantly represented negatively via
mass media as sick, troubled, poor, and needy.
Unfortunately, like many public art proposals
the Paragraph neon never came to light, caught
instead in a web of bureaucratic red tape. After the
project received support and funds from various
levels of government, the courthouse backed out of
hosting the neon due to a future renovation of the
building (maybe also due to an upcoming election
year and an inability by the court to perhaps fully
control the content of the work).
Access Gallery was a partner in the
development of the project, initially offering
administrative support. As the Director/Curator
of Access I worked with Tonik throughout the
Paragraph project. I held many integral positions
for the project; one part administrator, one
part grant applicant, one part mentor, one part
therapist, one part collaborator, and eventually
one part curator, or perhaps all parts curator
(Curator equaling administrator, grant writer,
mentor, therapist, collaborator, host, cleaner,
etc.). With the loss of the courthouse space a few
months before the launch of the project, Access
became the main physical location for the project.
Working alongside Tonik, we re-conceived the
project while attempting to maintain a focus on
the dissemination of the Paragraph, foster inviting
and inclusive conversation regarding the DTES/
Chinatown and its future, and develop a sharing of
dreams as useful alternatives to current systems
and structures. Through the production of posters,
a letter writing campaign, roundtables, a film
screening series, an ever-changing installation,
an archive, and this publication, we implemented
a strategy of dissemination from Access Gallery
outwards encouraging conversation and giving
space to as many voices as possible.
From the onset, the organization of postering
throughout the city, mailouts, roundtables, film
screenings, the publication, and an installation
in the gallery personally gave me cold sweats. It
all felt like a large logistical, administrative, and
conceptual nightmare. Also, watching the artist
and collaborators transform the gallery space
into a chaotic and messy hub stood against my
formal training as a professional curator where
curatorial authorship, control, and maintenance
of the white cube is privileged. Each aspect of the
Paragraph project felt like an active experiment
that could either coalesce into a compelling
project or spiral out of control at any moment.
This energy of uncertainty was fruitful. The
gallery space and installation was in constant flux,
centered around a large roundtable and a rainbow
of felt covered pillows, which Tonik produced
collaboratively with Russell Baker, a furniture
designer, art collector, and local shop owner. The
gallery held an aesthetic installation comprised
of the Paragraph postered in a cascading colour
gradient on one wall, the roundtable centered
in the room, a collaboratively produced set of
matryoshka dolls entitled From Punk to White
Collar, and individual paintings and collage works
by Tonik. This material installation became the
placeholder for the immaterial actions central to
the project. These immaterial actions being the
daily labour, exchange, and conversation between
Tonik, his collaborators, myself, gallery patrons,
and various others who encountered the project
by receiving and/or responding to the Paragraph
or participating in roundtable discussions.
Not concerned with being translatable
to a mass public Tonik’s project excelled at
engaging individuals. Individuals entering the
gallery were instantly filled with confusion and
uncertainty, lost in the cacophony of objects,
people, and limited didactics. Forced to engage in
conversation, many would eventually ask “What is
this?” or “ Are you guys installing?” These initial
stumbling blocks and awkward moments were
successful in achieving a verbal interaction and
dialogue either between the artists/collaborators
and viewer or viewer and gallery staff. These
sorts of interaction were the conceptual core of
the project. The daily conversations gave depth
and colour to the words in the Paragraph and the
installation in Access’ white cube. Without the
sharing of ideas around the table, handwritten
letter correspondence, or casual conversations
that arose from viewing the work, the project
would lose its conceptual edge. The physical
record of this, the detritus, the mess left behind
from daily human interaction, the mess that began
to fill the gallery day after day became the form
and material record of the immaterial concept.
The gallery became a cluttered hub of ideas, the
table and gallery floor filled with envelopes, food
containers, pens, and markers.
Allowing the artist and collaborators to
inhabit the gallery, experiment, and problem
solve aesthetic and conceptual ideas ultimately
lead to an enriching dialogue. At first, what
seemed bewildering and obtuse as an installation
actually began to question my role as a curator
and also the role of artist-run spaces like Access.
I embraced a collaborative vision that felt natural
in my curatorial role. Tonik and I responded to
issues and ideas at hand and rode a learning
curve through the whole process. My curatorial
role became less concentrated in controlling and
deciphering the work and/or space and instead
was focused in nurturing collaboration, support,
and mentorship. My curatorial position at Access
seems different than many other spaces, the
focus being more on enabling experimentation
rather than explicitly implementing a personal
curatorial vision. This project more so than others
I’ve completed at Access has been concerned
primarily with being open, allowing openness
to let artistic ideas and experiments unfold or
grow wildly against my curatorial urges to control
them. As an artist-run centre, Access is a space
for experimentation and emergent contemporary
practices. We invite artists to take risks without
having to think about the commercial aspects
of their work. In many ways I view Access as an
incubator for new ideas.
In conclusion, the best thing that could have
happened to the Paragraph project happened
when the courthouse dropped out and the public
monument never came to be. The installation
and subsequent side projects, such as the poster,
roundtables, mail outs, and film screenings,
cultivated an integral dialogue among artists,
residents, city planners, activists, gallery patrons,
and various others. These integral conversations
felt open, honest, and most importantly, urgent
in respect to the current gentrification and
re-development of the DTES and Chinatown.
Versus a neon with its grand monumental scale
and singular voice, the Paragraph of Possiblity
approached communities and individuals on a
one to one scale allowing for an equal sharing of
numerous feelings and opinions.
Shaun Dacey, January 2012
102-313 Alexander Street with two ___________.
with Russell Baker & Bombast Furniture
2011. Red, Black, White acrylic, 23k gold, canvas,
stretcher bars, red felt, two Mies van der Rohe Brno
chairs (1929)
75 x 66cm canvas, 57.8 x 80 x 57.1cm chairs (each)
An aligned sigh
I am huge,
Spacious, expansive
I reach out
like the cold that wraps around your body
Words Change Shape
with a frame from Jonathan Syme, The Workshop
2011. Paper, pencil-crayon, glass, wood, a couple
coffees from the Dunlevy Snackbar
29.7 x 21cm
Prickles your skin
makes every hair slowly start to stand
to reach
nerves
Like the brain when lit up, or leaves in autumn
I swell and fall
A cloud materialized
I merge and float through
The darklands of ephemerality and dreams
where I cannot see my own entity
White paper wands bound by ribbon
Mapped a circular formation
A landing pad
A satellite
We gathered there daily
at its centre
sometimes over red candle light.
Where three coins were cast down,
2 halves touched.
Forming portals in palpability
It could be assumed that
Grey clouds further south,
a flame comes into sight from nowhere
it’s raining on the beach
A wheeled barrow
where a sizeable pile of ash and paper
In late November
will somehow
Pushing west
A large Vision
find a way underground
a well-raised ideal
to the roots of the Quaking Aspen
And every pass, through hands like yours
standing bare of its circular leaves
one day
revealing a hidden trail
Imbued
Implicated
Neela Kler, December 2011
Intended
to pierce the hardest of minds
Not with a thought, but with a mystery
Strengthened with paper
and canvas antennae held high into the sky
we marched
casting
Across a long, wide scar that was summoned here
2 years after a dreamer died
while Angela was being fired
this whole place was being bulldozed
words representing everyone and no one
have yet to be undone
Tomato Saffron Soup
This soup gets an aromatic boost from sweet (red) vermouth.
1 large onion, chopped
2 or 3 cloves garlic, chopped
2 tbsp butter
1/2 tsp garam masala
6-8 strands saffron
1 pinch toasted cumin
1/4 to 1/2 cup sweet vermouth
2 16 oz tins whole tomatoes (if substituting fresh tomatoes, after
blending soup, you may want to strain it)
~1/2 cup water
1/4 cup whipping cream, yogurt, or substitute.
salt and pepper to taste.
In medium soup pot, cook onion on medium heat in butter until
almost clear. Grind up the saffron a little with the back of a spoon or
a mortar and pestle.Add garlic and spices, cook a few more minutes
until aromatic. Add vermouth or wine, cook for 5 minutes longer.
Add tomatoes and bring to a boil, simmer for 10 to 15 minutes. Taste
and season with salt and pepper, add a little water for consistency
if desired.Blend with hand blender or allow to cool slightly before
blending in batches. Drizzle cream or yogurt on top and serve.
Malika Montague, January 2012
Bez tytuły (połamany scenariusz dla A.W.) 2011
Untitled (a broken scenario for A.W.), 2011
*
*
The real (that is, naturally following the present) future of the town P.
was nonchalantly set aside for a faraway plan. Precisely, things were
planned for the year 2037.
In the very centre of town two rivers cross one another. A true
phenomenon as the waters of the two rivers do not blend together.
Numerous research studies have confirmed this.
It seems perhaps that this is the source of this whole mess.
So things in P. mold themselves without consequences, and also
without clear reasons.
That’s why people meet one another in the street but never remember
their neighbour’s faces. Children freeze up unable to learn by heart
even one simple poem,
in
proper
chronological order.
The doldrums in which P. dug itself into is nonetheless more awkward
than overwhelming.
Anna would call this state a “small catastrophe of mind and matter”.
A ceaseless collision course.
Boom!
Prawdziwa (czyli naturalnie następująca po teraźniejszości) przyszłość
miasteczka P. została beztrosko odsunięta na dalszy plan. Dokładnie
rzecz ujmując zaplanowana została na 2037 rok.
W samym środku miasta krzyżują się ze sobą dwie rzeki. To
prawdziwy fenomen bo woda z obu rzek nie miesza się ze sobą.
Potwierdziły to liczne badania naukowe.
Wydawać się może, że tu właśnie tkwi źródło całego bałaganu.
Rzeczy w P. toczą się więc same bez konsekwencji, ale i bez jasnej
przyczyny.
Dlatego ludzie wpadają na siebie na ulicy ale nigdy nie zapamiętują
twarzy nieznajomych. Dzieci wpadają w odrętwienie nie mogąc
przyswoić sobie na pamięć nawet jednego wiersza,
w
porządku
chronologicznym.
Bezczas w którym pogrążyło się P. był jednak raczej niezdarny niż
przytłaczający.
Anna nazwałaby ten stan „małą katastrofą umysłu i materii”.
Nieustanny kurs kolizyjny.
Bum!
*
*
Untitled (obituary)
Bez tytułu (nekrolog)
A. H. W. H. +
J. L. F. M. S. S. +
W. Z. +
J. C. +
L. L. +
W. H. P. H. H. S. -
A. H. W. H. +
J. L. F. M. S. S. +
W. Z. +
J. C. +
L. L. +
W. H. P. H. H. S. -
A sign on a wall (modified in the event of death of an individual, whose
initials have been used), font Genath, 2008
Napis na ścianie (modyfikowany w przypadku śmierci osoby, której
inicjały zostały użyte), font Genath, 2008
*
*
A parable about a sandbox, popular within the town of P. :
Przypowieść o piaskownicy, popularna wśród w miasteczku P. :
There was a sandbox filled to its brim with
black
and white
sand.
Black sand
filled the right side of the sandbox.
White sand
filled the left side of the sandbox.
One day a small child stepped into the sandbox and walked
in a circle
clockwise
for many hours.
When it stopped, the sand was
gray.
Then the child decided to undo the chaos and began walking
in a circle
counter clockwise
Była sobie piaskownica wypełniona po brzegi
czarnym
i białym
piaskiem.
Czarny piasek
wypełniał prawą stronę piaskownicy.
Biały piasek
wypełniał lewą stronę piaskownicy.
Któregoś dnia małe dziecko weszło do piaskownicy i chodziło
w kółko
zgodnie z ruchem wskazówek zegara
przez wiele godzin.
Kiedy skończyło, piasek był
szary.
Wtedy dziecko postanowiło odwrócić ten chaos i zaczęło chodzić
w kółko
w kierunku odwrotnym do ruchu wskazówek zegara
for many hours.
The longer it walked, the more the sand was
gray.
Crying didn’t help.
Chaos entered the sandbox for ever.
przez wiele godzin.
Im dłużej chodziło tym bardziej piasek był
szary.
Na nic się dały płacze.
Chaos wdał się do piaskownicy na zawsze.
*
*
Neon sign, which was installed the night of the 7th and 8th of
September 2011 on the facade of the Princess Hotel in Vancouver on
the occasion of the city’s 125th birthday:
Neonowy napis, który został zainstalowany w nocy z 7 na 8 września
2011 roku na fasadzie hotelu Princess w Vancouver z okazji 125-lecia
miasta:
SUPERSTARS ARE FADING
SUPERSTARS ARE FADING
*
*
Untitled (recommended camera-targeted activities while travelling, in
private)
Set # 2.
Bez tytułu (polecane działania do-kamerowe w podróży, bez udziału
publiczności)
Zestaw nr 2.
1. Black square with sides measuring 120cm in length, burnt into
grass. Lighter, rope, 4 wooden pegs.
2. Telephone booth, a phone number chosen with the help of dice,
carrying on conversation with a stranger for as long as is possible
(language of conversation to be chosen freely)
3. Moths (100 pieces) set free in a hotel room at night, tightly shut
window, an operating strobe light. Duration: 60 minutes.
4. An automobile windshield being poured on with maple syrup until
the operating wipers cease, the passenger side window ajar, radio.
5. Tracking a feral cat for 24 hours. Documentation: drawings,
photographs, 35mm film, audio recording.
1. Czarny kwadrat o długości boku 120 cm, wypalony w trawie.
Zapalniczka, sznurek, 4 drewniane kołki.
2. Budka telefoniczna, numer wybrany przy pomocy kostki do gry,
podtrzymywanie konwersacji z nieznajomym tak długo jak to tylko
możliwe (język konwersacji dowolny).
3. Ćmy (100 sztuk) wypuszczone w pokoju hotelowym nocą, szczelnie
zamknięte okno, włączona lampa stroboskopowa. Czas trwania: 60
minut.
4. Przednia szyba samochodu polewana syropem klonowym aż do
unieruchomienia włączonych wycieraczek, uchylona szyba od strony
kierowcy, radio.
5. Śledzenie bezdomnego kota przez jedną dobę. Dokumentacja:
rysunki, fotografie, film 35 mm, zapis audio.
Sebastian Cichocki, December 2011
Paragraph of Possibility Archive can be accessed at:
Access Gallery, 222 East Georgia Street, Vancouver BC V6A 1Z7
http://accessgallery.ca/paragraph-of-possibility
This project was conceived in 2009 and could not have been possible without the
help, imagination and work of The Monday night drop-in art class at the Urban Native
Youth Association, the residents of Ross House at 313 Alexander Street, Charles
Haynes, Ashley Haynes, Liz Vander Zaag, Karen Henry, Barbara Cole, Ken & Paloma
Lum, Bryan Newson, Douglas Durand, Kristen Lambertson, Cherryl Masters, Erica
Wilk, Neela Kler, Cease Wyss, Robin, Carly Dickinson, Elvis, Joan, Larissa, TJ, Shaun
Dacey, Bob Greenwood, Jon Elder, Joji Kumagai & The Strathcona BIA, Russell Baker
& Bombast, Rob Shantz at Neonworks, Kitty Scott, Sarah Fuller, Jenifer Papararo, Kim
Nguyen, Malika Montague, Simoooone, Brandon Edwards, Jalene, Sebastian Cichocki,
Brian McBay, Doug McBay, Hannah Elizabeth Reinhart, Jeff Williams, Robert Fisher,
Caitlin Hurley, Theo Lloyd-Kohls, Bernadette Phan and Carnegie Outreach, Sharon
Belli, Cecily Nicholson, Ivan Drury, Oliver Li, Nadja Schnetzler, Markus Mettler, Kristina
Matthiessen, Fan-Ling Suen, Jess Guthrie, Ken Yuen, Jaz Lally, Bogusław Wojtyra,
finally Miles Collyer & Ann Dean for...
Access Gallery gratefully acknowledges support from the City of Vancouver’s 125th
Anniversary Grants Program and the participation of the Government of Canada, the
Canada Council for the Arts, BC Arts Council, our members and volunteers.
Black
CMYK
Pantone
From punk to white collar
with the Urban Native Youth Association Monday night
drop-in art class.
2011. Gouache, pencil, seven nesting Matryoshka dolls,
Robin’s excitement, Simone’s drawing prowess, all of
our giddiness.
Dimensions Variable