Just past noon, on a December day, I had the great privilege of interviewing Father Dan Donovan - a priest, teacher, and highly respected art collector of Canadian contemporary art.  Appropriately  dubbed 'The Donovan Collection', what began as his own passing interest continues to become the largest collection of uniquely Canadian, contemporary art.  I personally stumbled across a few pieces while I was still a student, and it has always left an impression with me.  Not only is the artwork of high quality, but together they stand as testimony to the potency of the curator's touch - and the power it has to draw spontaneous insight from the most blasé of viewers.  

The Donovan Collection consists of over 350 artworks dispersed throughout the corridors, libraries, assembly halls, boardrooms and open grounds of St. Michael's College at the University of Toronto.  Its genesis at the university began in the then-newly renovated Odette Hall in 1996, where Fr. Donovan holds an office, and has slowly spread to other parts of the campus such as John M. Kelly Library, Carr Hall, Madden Hall, and various student residences.  Teaching since 1971 at the college's Faculty of Theology and its Christianity and Culture Program, he is now Professor Emeritus of Theology for St. Michael's and has donated most of his collection to the college where he has spent most of his working life.  The collection is available for the public, staff and students to enjoy alike. 

Fr. Donovan is one of precious few tackling the country's widespread problem of poor education in the visual arts.  More than ever, as Canada's conservative government continues to depreciate arts-funding, it is imperative that the Canadian public recognize the true value of its country's talent.  Too many contemporary Canadian artists are forced to move to other countries, such as the United States, in order to get noticed.  That is why Fr. Donovan and his collection are so remarkable.  Here is someone  who is collecting the best of Canadian art and by doing so, is capturing an essence that retells the Canadian spirit in a complex way.  Most importantly, he is capturing this essence through today's art, as it happens, without the hindsight of the future but with the foresight of the past and present.  In other words, he is buying work based on the quality, not name and fame, which reflects some of Ontario's finest art in the past 32 years.  

The religious twist in the collection only enhances its intrigue.  Fr. Donovan is, of course, a Catholic priest, and therefore it is only natural that questions of faith should direct the flavour of his collecting practices.  However, rather than use art as a means of reaffirming his religious convictions, Fr. Donovan seems to seek work that pose more questions than they answer.  This promises a type of religious art that is far from simplistic or dogmatic; it promises work that most people can relate to, regardless of an individual's belief system, because it speaks of human experience.  "I have a good eye for the kind of human dimension that's in art," Donovan confessed.  "Very often I see things, and when I talk to the artist, that's exactly the kind of thing they're trying to express."  For this reason, and others, Fr. Donovan is sought out for guided tours by la crème of the contemporary art community, rather than merely a theological audience.

One thing that stands out when speaking with Fr. Donovan, is his enthusiasm.  After over 30 years of art collecting, and giving countless tours and interviews on the subject, he is still passionate about the art.  With my limited experience as an interviewer, he provided such a torrent of information that I barely knew where to begin writing this article.   I am very honoured to have been given the opportunity to speak personally with such an esteemed curator and collector.  Although I came prepared with a set of questions, Fr. Donovan's answer flew far and beyond - musing on the nature of art, what it means to be spiritual, personal 'aha!' moments, and the effects he perceives art to have on those it surrounds:  

What is art?  Some people will do a landscape and it's just a landscape.  Other people will do a landscape, and in doing it, are trying to articulate something of a deeper nature.  There are some artists that make art, and you look at it, and it would never occur to you that this is, of course, spiritual.  It could be very well made; it could be mathematical, or very sophisticated in terms of materials that are used.  But it never occurs to you that it's anything more than what it is.  There it is.  You got it.  Y'know?  But there's a lot of art, today, where you get a sense the art is struggling with something else, something deeper.  And it can be a very broad sort of sense --- meaning, meaninglessness, again some sort of longing, yearning, searching.  Or it could be about specifics, like death, confronting death, hope… y'see the point?  So in a sense, so many of the artists I talk to, that's a part of who they are.  And that's very hard to articulate. 

-  What inspired you to take an interest in the visual arts?

For sure, the major thing was Europe.  [In the early 1960s] I was two years in Rome, and I walked everyday.  Even the walk between where I lived and my school, the Canadian College on Quattro Fontane, ---  you go up half a block, and were on the Via Venti Settembre, and on the corner was a lovely little Bernini chapel, and then you had the great Quirinale Palace.  And then you turned to the Palace Della Pilotta --- you had a wonderful view on St. Peter's Dome, and so on.  So then when the holidays came, I travelled to various parts of Europe.  The visual was everywhere.  I started going to Museums in Florence, the great museums there, and then Munich, Paris, Berlin, Cologne and so forth.

One thing that struck me early on, was that architecture influences the way people feel.  For example, you go into a great Gothic Church, and it seems to be moving upwards, kind of dramatic.  But the ones I really loved were the Romanesque church, where it is kind of more intimate, and envelopes you and surrounds you.  I remember going into a beautiful, great Romanesque church and I didn't like it, but it was clearly like a statement:  this was power.  It was a huge big building.

I would think of artists in terms of my own feelings.  Once I had been in Rome for two years, I came back to Canada for a month, and then I was going to Munster, Northern Germany.  And I lived in Paris for a week, then flew on to Dusseldorf, and then, changed trains to Munster.  And, I had to spend a couple hours in Dusseldorf waiting for the train, so I started walking by the Rhine.  Paris has been sunny, beautiful, September, and here it was dark, cloudy and overcast.  The boats going on the Rhine were kind of dirty.  I thought, 'Oh my god!  What have I got myself into?'  And then I remembered!  that in Rome, Raffael's delights, and Umbria, and so on.  All of that fit together.  The light of the country with the art.  And then I remembered that I really liked Rembrandt, and he was dark and more interior, and very much like that area that I was moving into.  

It's funny how you start to relate architecture to feeling, and different artistic expressions evoke different experiences.

-  Your first pieces were bought out of personal interest, as a way of remembering your time in Munster.  How did you begin collecting in a more serious manner?

Yes, it's interesting.  The first two pieces, they were very personal for the very reason you said.  And they were in no sense the beginning of anything.  They were just, kind of, souvenirs.  And in the 70s, I used to go to New York, but it never occurred to me to buy art.  I wasn't buying art --- those were something special. 
 
And then this large piece of Kosso Eloul out here, you know the one by the little park?  He had a show up at a little gallery that no longer exists, up on Cumberland.  And there was a large photograph of this piece that he had done in Japan, and so on and so forth.  And I just looked at it and I thought, "Gee, that would look great in this little park."  Just like that.  And I had some money in the bank, so I thought, "I'll buy it.  I'll donate it to St. Michael's College."  Which I did.  So that was a huge step, 'cause that wasn't cheap.  A huge step.

-  What do you look for in an artwork?

For me art is, first of all, a visual thing.  I mean, I'm interested in the visual arts in all its forms.  Therefore it needs to work visually.  There has to be something that is attractive, striking, in some way beautiful --- that is a very broad term, of course, it can take many forms.  Then, I like it to engage you, to draw you into it, I want you to think more about it and ask yourself questions.  And in some cases, allow yourself to be asked questions by it.  

-  How do you go about interpreting a piece? 

Interpreting is a question of mind.  It's a question of emotion ---  of intuition, sensitivity.  But it's a culmination, or accumulation, of all that one is and has become in the course of one's life.  In other words, we're constantly growing and developing, and we do this through study, reflection, through meeting people, through looking at art, through --- in the case of art, talking to artists.  

Many artists, not all, but many artists will have an idea and then they will transform this idea into something.  And then, they'll start to ask themselves, "What have I done?  What is this thing?"  And then, might notice things about what they've done that they haven't pre-thought --- and in doing it, it suddenly opens up possibilities.  And so, they enjoy talking to somebody like myself.  I don't know what or how much of this is a natural gift, but I have a good eye in art in terms of the quality.  But I also have a good eye for the kind of human dimension that's in art and very often I see things, and when I talk to the artist, that's exactly the kind of thing they're trying to talk about, to express.  So it's an ongoing kind of dialogue.

-  To what do you wish to draw attention when you buy art and curate for a student audience?  

Number one:  that it's there.  And then, that it is so interesting, and there is such a variety of things going on.  Hopefully, it starts to expand your notion of art, and brings an awareness on how art can transform space.  A sense of the range of art.  And a sense of the good things that are being created by Canadians.

-  How does art make a difference in people's lives?

It's interesting how it does make a difference.  It makes a difference on many different levels for different people.  I think some people see nothing, literally nothing, and I think it's really interesting.  I'm fascinated by people who don't notice anything --- and they're really, very smart people.    But they don't see anything, they just don't see it.  So there's that.  But then there are other people who are aware of it, and don't engage in any kind of personal way with it… but there's a kind of sense in which its presence makes a difference. 

 One of the things around here that I think has happened, is that is raises the quality, it raises the tone, it gives a kind of dignity, a sense of value and so on.  And on some level I think some some students --- indirectly, I think it communicates to them that people here think a lot of them; they think they're important.  That somebody, some institution, whatever, has put all that stuff up on the wall.  They may not be aware of what it costs, but they know it costs something, and there's an effort behind all this, and that somehow, it's for them.  

***

On a last note, I would like to add that The Donovan Collection is a wonderful tool for visual art students, especially those who wish to enter the curating field.  Here is a fabulous example of how curating can have a tremendous impact on how an artwork is understood, and how pieces play off each other to create new meaning.  The collection demonstrates how a successful curator can be synonymous with the role of teacher, in that, curation makes obvious certain subtle nuances and meanings of artworks, which would be missed otherwise.  In this particular case, Fr. Donovan acts as a bridge between the average Canadian viewer and an (at times) isolated visual arts community.  If only more people knew about the collection!  

An outpouring of thanks to Fr. Donovan for sharing his story, and for having the patience to bear with me on my first interview article.  I am truly grateful, and only hope I did the subject justice. 

For more information on The Donovan Collection, please visit:

http://www.ccca.ca/videoportrait/english/donovan.html?languagePref=en&

Interview edited and written by Donia Almassi

Back in June, I had the pleasure of interviewing artist Mel Day about her most recent body of work, "Study Guide on Experimental Contemplatives".  A direct result of Day's residency at Stanford University, the exhibition explored the meaning of faith, in both a religious and secular context, and the possibilities of transcending the limitations of belief.   One video piece, a set of light-box images, as well as a series of stunning photographs were included in the show.  Some of the images can be previewed via the links below.  Enjoy!

Mel Day is an interdisciplinary artist, educator, designer, and experimental contemplative working across a range of media including video, sound, drawing, photography, and social practice. In recent work, she continues to investigate the instability of belief systems of all kinds through a constellation of multi-sensory, multi-media, and multi-faith effects, most recently focused in a speculative series of “Study Guides for Experimental Contemplatives.”

For more information on Mel Day's work, visit:
www.peakgallery.com/exhibitions/exhibitions_2011/Day.htm
www.mmd.ca

    Andrew Wright’s Coronae exhibit is no slap in the face.  The new series of work at Peak Gallery, winner of CONTACT’s BMW Exhibition Prize, does not flatten the viewer with colour and movement, or a plethora of cultural references.  Instead, Coronae slowly sucks you into its visual vortex, gently persuading of a truth that transcends all the chatter.  The more one experiences these works (in person, as is absolutely essential), the more one absorbs them like a towel soaks up wine. They are truly innovative, complex and beautiful works – a fitting winner for this year’s CONTACT prize.

The six 60” x 60” digital chromogenic prints were crafted by boring holes, using an electric drill, into slide film canisters with spools of 35mm film wound within them.  You know, the little cylinders of film we used to buy for our 90s cameras?  With only a small hole drilled through all the layers of film, they were left to sit and collect whatever light that trickled through the opening.  Once the film was developed, Wright re-photographed the chromogenic prints into digital format, resulting in the final work displayed at Peak Gallery.

Large swathes of inky blackness envelop the central image – the ‘corona’ – so that, one is unsure as to whether one is pushed away from a hard, black, table-top surface, or falling into the plush depths of an untouched universe.  This becomes a central theme in Andrew Wright’s new work.  “I’m particularly interested in the idea that black can be both surface and space, so that as surface, you relate to it as a body, not just a set of eyes,” stated Wright in an interview with ArtSync.  “The body relates to the world that you’re in.”  He then commented on photography’s tendency to portray other spaces, and how he hopes this series of new work will successfully fall between the physical “here” and fictive “there”.  Indeed, Coronae explores photography’s inherent voyeurism by complicating the traditional gaze:  one is not sure if the photograph, as a physical object, is imposing on the viewer’s space, or the viewer is imposing on the photograph by entering its visual wormhole.  This ambiguity gives Coronae the heavy presence of an object whilst retaining photography’s ability to serve as a private window into a different landscape.

The close visual similarities between a mere pin-prick of light through a film canister, and photographs of the larger cosmos, is remarkable.  Appropriately, “corona” is defined as a circle of halo around a luminous body, such as the sun or moon during an eclipse, but can be applied to anything crown-like (corona being latin for crown).  The macroscopic and microscopic, so interchangeable in such a body of work, seems to link the whole spectrum of life in-between – with an intensely spiritual effect.  One cannot help but be reminded, whether religious or no, of the biblical phrase “ashes to ashes, dust to dust”.  Very large to very small; beginnings to endings; birth to death: there is a familiarity between the outermost reaches of any one thing, which draws it all together like a neat package.  Andrew Wright’s work touches on these “deathbed” questions – questions which, although most certainly timeless, may seem on the heavy side for some viewers.  However, those who relish the visual arts for those kick-in-the-pants moments – aka art that really makes you think – will not be fazed.  Coronae will be an undeniable pleasure.

‘Coronae’ exhibited at Peak Gallery in Toronto, April 28th - June 11th, 2011.

Review by Donia Almassi