Back to the Start: A Review of Where Do We Go From Here?
Vancouver Art Gallery, 12 December 2020–13 June 2021
To have survived the past year is to have witnessed the failures of capitalist democracy, and the further entrenchment of societal fissures that trace their tragic beginnings to the colonial age. For those who had forgotten, by way of denial or waking-dream, that the cities and monuments that line our nations are bloodied, the murder of George Floyd and the summer of protest that followed were wake-up calls. The exhibition Where Do We Go From Here?, on view at the Vancouver Art Gallery (VAG) until mid-June 2021, invites viewers to reflect on, critique, and reformulate their understandings of Canadian historical narratives from a wide variety of differing, but interconnected perspectives. The exhibition features a diverse group of artists — including Jessie Addo, Rebecca Bair, Lauren Brevner and James Nexw’Kalus-Xwalacktun Harry, Vanessa Brown, Gabi Dao, Jeneen Frei Njootli, Chantal Gibson, Maureen Gruben, Gabrielle L’Hirondelle Hill, Ocean Hyland, Nanyamka (Nya) Lewis, Cindy Mochizuki, Audie Murray, Gailan Ngan, Tafui, Charlene Vickers, Jan Wade, Tania Willard, Hyung-min Yoon, and Elizabeth Zvonar — many of whom are presenting work at the VAG for the first time.
Although lacking a singular theme or viewpoint, Where Do We Go From Here? challenges colonial methods of representation by bringing diasporic and Indigenous voices to the forefront. By extension, the exhibition provides a platform for the radical reconceptualization of what constitutes Canada’s imagined community and the various peoples to whom it belongs. Upon entering the exhibition, on the third floor of the VAG’s grandiose, neoclassical building, viewers encounter Naya Lewis’ installation Commit Us to Memory (Lewis was also part of the exhibition’s curatorial team). This work reminds us that Canadian narratives operate on myths that, at best, ignore the contributions of marginalized groups, and, at worst, dehumanize BIPOC individuals and communities. On the lintels of each entrance, just under the VAG’s iconic dome, read the words, “The Myth of the Black Canadian” and “The Promise to the Black Canadian.” On the walls under these two phrases are several short poems concerning African-Canadian history, resilience, and our collective need to “go back to the start.”
From this decolonizing starting point, the exhibition explores a myriad of mediums and contemplations of time, space, and the cultures we carry. One of the most memorable works is The Doors, by Hyung-min Yoon. It consists of a collection of photographs featuring a sculpture of the Chinese character 門, which means “gate” or “door,” and has been suggested to have originally alluded to the entrance of a shrine. In the hands of Yoon, it comes to refer to a portal — a gate to a sacred space. The artist utilizes the character’s spiritual connotations and superimposes it over bodies of water and recognizable landscapes, most notably a stream of water leading to the Vancouver International Airport. Just as impressive is Tafui’s Patois, an imposing mural made in her signature black-and-white style, which, by way of its sheer size and bold strokes, pulls onlookers towards its towering expression of Jamaican language and culture. Tafui’s combination of grandeur and intricate patterning disrupts the colonial ambiance seeping from the VAG’s neoclassical architecture.
Sna7m (Strong Spirit), by Lauren Brevner and James (Nexw’Kalus-Xwalacktun) Harry, is undeniably the most enthralling work in the exhibition. Brevner, a Japanese-Trinidadian-Canadian who creates mixed-media portraiture, and Harry, who produces sculptures, carvings and totems reflecting his mixed Squamish Nation (Swxwú7meshḵ) and European (Scottish and German) heritage, have combined their styles and traditions to create a work that contests singular categorization, both culturally and artistically. The work — which is coloured with acrylic paint, chiyogami, copper leaf, and yuzen — features a carving of a human figure with swooping limbs layered over what appears to be the head of a wolf and a dense forest. Through its elegant marriage of disciplines and cultures, Sna7m (Strong Spirit) stands as a testament to reclamation, reconceptualization, and society in transition. The final installation of Where Do We Go From Here?, Rebecca Bair’s We Are Not Who We Are Oppressed To Be (Black Speaker, White Walls), immerses viewers with its disorienting use of sound, story, and lighting. The installation features a suspended lampshade encircled by nine rectangle speakers. The outside of the lampshade is covered with blurred images of several Black women. Bair overlaps several recordings, which together resemble the discordant conversations of an audience eagerly waiting for a performance. However, with careful listening, one can hear several accounts regarding issues pertinent to Black hair and womanhood in white spaces. The installation leaves viewers truly pondering, Where do we go from here?
For the most part, Where Do We Go From Here? is transgressive and powerful. However, the exhibition is not without some low points. Specifically, works such as Gailan Ngan’s Blob and Vanessa Brown’s Reverse Photosynthesis feel out of place and fail to communicate anything in particular. Aptly named, Blob is an installation featuring several spherically shaped, glazed ceramics. Although the installation is unique, it is easily overshadowed by the quality and depth of other works. Similarly, Reverse Photosynthesis, with its abstract take on natural processes, leaves something to be desired. Fortunately for the exhibition, these pieces are outliers.
Over all, Where Do We Go From Here? is a harrowing exhibition, one that challenges the very basis of Canada’s raison d’être by centring diasporic and Indigenous voices in a colonial space. By extension, the exhibition challenges the VAG’s framing of Canadian history, culture, and peoples. Through careful curating, artistic versatility, and the use of nuanced perspectives, Where Do We Go From Here? prompts deeper reflection on truths that have been rendered invisible by the continuing legacy of colonialism and the institutionalization of whiteness. As such, the exhibition is not only awe-inspiring, but also necessary. A true reckoning with Canada’s rendition of the colonial tragedy necessitates the reformulation of what we Canadians deem Canadian. If Indigenous sovereignty matters, our institutions must reconsider the calloused stances they ratify in the face of genocide and land theft. If Black lives matter, our institutions must answer for their continued attack on Black bodies, and their complicity in the erasure of African-Canadian history. The Vancouver Art Gallery appears to be moving in the right direction.
— Noah Lubendo, 2021
