Kelly Mark – Stupid Heaven

I went and saw the new Kelly Mark show, Stupid Heaven, at the Justina M. Barnicke Gallery at the University of Toronto a few weeks ago. I’ve only seen a few of her pieces before, mostly in group shows, and have heard a lot about her as a person from other artists and curators, but hadn’t really seen a substantial body of work from her before. I always had the suspicion that I’d like her work, and fortunately Barbara Fischer’s show proved me right.

A lot has been written in reviews of the show about the emphasis on work and labour in Mark’s pieces. While I think the theme of labour is key in Mark’s art production – her time cards that are stamped to document the amount of time she spends at work in her studio, for instance, are fantastic, and one piece in the show, an invoice billing the gallery for the artist’s time spent painting the walls white before installing the exhibit, succinctly and wryly turns the traditional distinction between artist and labourer on its head – I’m much more interested in her pieces that deal with television.

I’ve heard amazing stories about her series of “Glow Houses”, and am fascinated by how she uses TVs as a sculptural medium and form rather than just as a way to present video. One of my favourite pieces in the Stupid Heaven show was “The Kiss” – a sculpture of two small screen televisions, pulsating with rose-coloured light, which were placed screen-to-screen, as though kissing, in their own secluded corner of the gallery. Coming across them was like stumbling upon a couple making out on the bed where all the coats have been piled at a winter house party: surprising, a bit embarrassing, but also strangely heart-warming.

Mark’s new project, “REM”, is an epic montage/collage of different television shows and movies on TV that is presented in four distinct living room environments in the gallery. Much like the “Glow Houses,” part of the attraction to this piece is the light cast onto the gallery walls, as well as the constructed walls of the “living rooms”, by the synchronized TVs. Once you find a seat in the living room of your choice, however, the strange narratives Mark has created through her splicing of television culture hook you. The segment we saw included a montage of different characters on the phone where the audience sees only one side of the conversation. Mark has an incredible sense of timing and editing and puts the clips together in a fashion that seems to almost make sense, to almost complete a story, but that always leaves you hanging (often through a fake “commercial break”). It was like watching the master of visual mash-ups at work. I’d love to go back and see more of it, maybe this weekend while my sister (another huge fan of Mark’s work – especially the pieces involving her cat) is in town.