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mattbellOn the Eastern side of Toronto there is a new multi-use development project called the Distillery. The masterminds of this project are engaged in a transfer of coolness on an unprecedented scale. The massive renovation of an old distillery contains numerous artists' studios and galleries but also some extremely pretentious restaurants and condominiums. The galleries are the crossroads of this transfer... the artists strut their stuff hoping for sustenance from patrons, while the yuppies can feel edgy and hip by walking among the seeds of the artists' creative minds.
The shocking part was the totally unexpected presence of two very large sculptures from Burningman. One was the giant climbable Tripod alien, minus the laddder that makes it climbable. The other was one of my favorites from a couple of years back– a giant enigma-headed crouched figure. The Tripod alien was presiding over some sort of outdoor catered event. I felt this Indiana Jones-esque rage burning inside of me, as if some treasure is about to be whisked off by the Nazis -- “That belongs on the PLAYA!” This must be how the Mission hipsters felt when the yuppies started moving in. In my ideal world, all the sculptures from past burningmen are placed in giant sculpture parks that can be rented out for all-night dance parties.
However, I had some rational thoughts about this after getting over my initial distaste. First, this means that the artists are getting revenue off their work and this will lead to more future work. Second, Burningman art is designed to be accessible. It has to work when the primary audience is a bunch of brain-fried Burners wandering through a city of loud, intense wonders. As a result, unlike, say, Abstract Minimalism, Burningman art is easy for almost everyone to relate to and often has a playful, hands-on appeal. This means even trophy wives will like it. They will be shaken out of whatever routine they're in and captivated momentarily by something very alien to them. I watched it happen several times. Perhaps this is even more important than showing it to Burners. Now all I have to do is get over my whiny exclusionist visceral distaste.
The shocking part was the totally unexpected presence of two very large sculptures from Burningman. One was the giant climbable Tripod alien, minus the laddder that makes it climbable. The other was one of my favorites from a couple of years back– a giant enigma-headed crouched figure. The Tripod alien was presiding over some sort of outdoor catered event. I felt this Indiana Jones-esque rage burning inside of me, as if some treasure is about to be whisked off by the Nazis -- “That belongs on the PLAYA!” This must be how the Mission hipsters felt when the yuppies started moving in. In my ideal world, all the sculptures from past burningmen are placed in giant sculpture parks that can be rented out for all-night dance parties.
However, I had some rational thoughts about this after getting over my initial distaste. First, this means that the artists are getting revenue off their work and this will lead to more future work. Second, Burningman art is designed to be accessible. It has to work when the primary audience is a bunch of brain-fried Burners wandering through a city of loud, intense wonders. As a result, unlike, say, Abstract Minimalism, Burningman art is easy for almost everyone to relate to and often has a playful, hands-on appeal. This means even trophy wives will like it. They will be shaken out of whatever routine they're in and captivated momentarily by something very alien to them. I watched it happen several times. Perhaps this is even more important than showing it to Burners. Now all I have to do is get over my whiny exclusionist visceral distaste.
