Toronto’. Trialogue by Guy Sioui Durand
Toronto’. Trialogue Guy Sioui Durand Tsei8ei 8enho8en ’ Notez l’apostrophe ajoutée à la fin de Toronto’. Symbole linguistique qui indique une coupure dans le son dans son appellation en langue huronne-wendat, il recèle une grande signification. Il suppose de rêver. Voilà l’inspiration à la…
The Spectral Ledger by Steven Cottingham
This text by STEVEN COTTINGHAM was published alongside KRISTA BELLE STEWART’S exhibition, A Guest a Host a Ghost. There can be no doubt that the colonial paradigm is a question of haunting. What remains for debate, however, is the assignation of roles. Who is haunting…
When Things Occur by Doreen Mende
When Things Occur (2016) by Oraib Toukan is based on Skype conversations with Gaza inhabitants who were behind the images that were transmitted from screen to screen in the summer of 2014. The subsequent remarks are organised in four short segments that end up with open questions which expand the reflections touched upon here.
Vol. 1: The Ward Players by Ellyn Walker
Indeed, histories of sport contain numerous social, cultural, and political narratives, many of which tell important stories of place and place-making across the lands now known as Canada. Both within and outside of these borders, there has existed a very narrow story of Black baseball within the public imaginary, in which Toronto-based artist Jalani Morgan intervenes with his new exhibition at YYZ Artists’ Outlet.
Beware: whoever pretends to be a ghost will eventually turn into one by Vincent Bonin
In the last few years, Court ‘s exhibitions have seemed to approach the question of responsiveness away from the presupposition that his role (and that of his collaborators) would be above all to “reveal,” once more, hidden meaning unspeakable by the institution hosting the work.
Presque-vu By Matthew Kyba
A strange phenomenon occurs when one can almost remember a memory, term, or detail, yet falls short as it barely escapes them. Concentration seems to grip the sand too tightly as whatever we hoped to recall slowly falls through our fingers. As an artist, Jen Aitken capitalizes on this sense of Presque-Vu, or almost seen.