Suspended uses collaged photographs and drawings that mine childhood memories, reflecting the volatility of nature, community and identity through the evocation of the summertime family retreat Camp Naivelt (Yiddish for “New World”). Located in Brampton, it was centred on secularist, progressive socialist values, activism, and a celebration of Jewish and Yiddish culture. At one time Naivelt was frequented by up to 5,000 people on any given weekend. While growing up, the artist experienced it as a place of sanctuary and freedom.
The installation references a poignant childhood memory. Visiting Naivelt in the spring off-season, when the artist's family came upon enormous ice floes ejected from the Credit River that runs through the camp. Unpeopled and distant from the bustle and heat of summer, the site was made stranger still by this dramatic scene. The massive ice blocks were both organic and oddly unnatural. Similarly, to this haven of radical politics was in itself outside the norms of the Jewish mainstream. The ice-covered land evoked the gradual deterioration of the site alongside the dwindling of the community. Naivelt continues until today albeit with more modest participation. In the exhibition, the terrain of memory interweaves with the textures of College Street as perennial graffiti markings on our window enter the piece, linking the past with present-day realities where the artist’s self-conception is firmly grounded. An image of the Naivelt bridge appears signaling possibilities in connecting two seemingly distinct realms, holding out the potential for crossing into the promise of a new world.
Review
Curator's Remarks
Window Text
Suspended uses collaged photographs and drawings that mine childhood memories, reflecting the volatility of nature, community and identity through the evocation of the summertime family retreat Camp Naivelt (Yiddish for “New World”). Located in Brampton, it was centred on secularist, progressive socialist values, activism, and a celebration of Jewish and Yiddish culture. At one time Naivelt was frequented by up to 5,000 people on any given weekend. While growing up, the artist experienced it as a place of sanctuary and freedom.
The installation references a poignant childhood memory. Visiting Naivelt in the spring off-season, when the artist's family came upon enormous ice floes ejected from the Credit River that runs through the camp. Unpeopled and distant from the bustle and heat of summer, the site was made stranger still by this dramatic scene. The massive ice blocks were both organic and oddly unnatural. Similarly, to this haven of radical politics was in itself outside the norms of the Jewish mainstream. The ice-covered land evoked the gradual deterioration of the site alongside the dwindling of the community. Naivelt continues until today albeit with more modest participation. In the exhibition, the terrain of memory interweaves with the textures of College Street as perennial graffiti markings on our window enter the piece, linking the past with present-day realities where the artist’s self-conception is firmly grounded. An image of the Naivelt bridge appears signaling possibilities in connecting two seemingly distinct realms, holding out the potential for crossing into the promise of a new world.
Review
Curator's Remarks
Window Text