Review
REview
Nicola Hawkins, Slicing the Polar Pie, 2011. Mixed media. 91 cm x 366 cm.
Photo: Mark Bennett, courtesy of The Rooms Provincial Art Gallery, NL
Nicola Hawkins, Junkosphere exhibit, 2012 (Value Added? in foreground).
Photo: Mark Bennett, courtesy of The Rooms Provincial Art Gallery, NL
Junkosphere
Nicola Hawkins
The Rooms Provincial Art Gallery
December 17, 2011 - April 15, 2012
Review by GLORIA HICKEY
Junkosphere by Nicola Hawkins was an exhibition of stunning, epic-scaled collages and sculpture –composed from
repurposed materials and magazine images–that the public
adored but some art insiders probably misjudged as too
well resolved. “What was the problem?” you may ask. In a
nutshell, the art was meticulously crafted and incredibly well
designed. By contrast, its topic was the ugly truth embedded
in our wasteful over consumption of goods and resources. I
would be so bold as to suggest that Nicola Hawkins might
be craft’s version of photographer Ed Burtynski, who is internationally known for his gorgeous photographs of pollution,
strip mining and the world teetering on the edge of environmental disaster.
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Fall | Winter 2012 - 2013
Today, Hawkins lives in Admiral’s Cove, a rural, picture postcard community with a millionaire’s view of the ocean. It is
pristine. And a bold contrast from the big city life that Hawkins
and her husband Andy Perlis left behind in Boston more than
a dozen years ago. She says it was the experience of living
amid such natural beauty in Admiral’s Cove that transformed
her from a formalist abstract painter into a mixed media artist
possessed with a highly charged message. Newfoundland’s
beauty may be rugged in appearance but like every place on
the planet it is vulnerable.
Unlike many of the artists in Canada’s eastern-most province, Nicola Hawkins is not a landscape artist. The terrain she
depicts, for example in Slicing the Polar Pie, is biting social
commentary reminiscent of the chaotic, vice-ridden scenes of
Hieronymus Bosch. Using a combination of collaged images–
painstakingly cut from glossy magazines– and hand painted
elements, Hawkins points out the absurdity of our gas guzzling
car culture, designer garbage bags, and oh-so pure bottled
water. Polar bears balance on over turned cars, a shackled,
naked baby climbs on to the hood of another vehicle while a
neglectful, model pretty mum lounges nearby–and this is just
a small sample from a generous collage that stretches twelve
feet in width (365.8 centimetres).
All of the works in the exhibition reward sustained viewing
with wave after wave of detail. As viewers, we are taken on a
visual journey that alternates between laugh-out-loud absurdities worthy of Monty Python and tragic despair that you don’t
have to be David Suzuki to appreciate.
At the center of Junksophere is its namesake sculpture, a
giant device that combines a paper maché globe radiating
towers and debris with a bicycle-like set of pedals that allow
gallery visitors to rotate the globe. The sculpture drives home
two important points that are, for me, key to the success of
this show. Succinctly put, they are the role of the individual
and the illusion of decorative art.
Junkosphere is a kinetic sculpture dependant on the individual for motion. The individual has control, and given the theme
of this exhibition that means responsibility for his or her own
actions. Collages like The Collector with its dizzying array of
consumer goods and living creatures question our need for
“stuff” both manufactured and natural. Are we so empty
inside that we need to mindlessly amass things? The cookietin clad truck, a life-sized sculpture titled End of the Road,
suggests that we might be better off putting the brakes on our
dependence on vehicles. It would be easy for Nicola Hawkins
to fall into lecturing yet she doesn’t. Her work is passionate and
content-rich but it isn’t propaganda. I think that was why this
exhibition was so popular, the public felt empowered by it. The
images are accessible and the options clear but left up to the
individual.
Hawkins understands the decorative impulse, its ability to
create harmony amid apparent chaos and to convey meaning.
In that aspect, she has a craftsperson’s aesthetic. Hawkins and
Perlis have spent years making repeat trips to rural India, documenting its evolving craft traditions, often amongst relative
poverty. Her richly detailed collages and sculpture are akin to
elaborate embroideries or carved architecture. It is hard to say
which has had more influence on her design sense, Hawkins’
travels or her two degrees in visual arts. Either way, the result
is an exhibition of art that some may judge to be “decorative”
but surely is not shallow.
It is easy to confuse the pleasing quality of Hawkins’ compositions, her sense of design, with naiveté. She is not just an
eager recycler; she is a seductress. The overall beauty of her
work lures you in to consider the uncomfortable truth in the
details. Hawkins is an artist in the manner of Jennifer Angus
who creates large-scale installations featuring insects within a
framework of beautiful designs or Lynn Cohen who captures
an otherworldly beauty in her lush photographs of interiors.
Hawkins’ art is not edgy or gritty. The skillful beauty is meant
to make us linger and think. And hopefully act. n
Nicola Hawkins, Junkosphere, 2011. Mixed media. 508 cm x 488 cm.
Photo: Mark Bennett, courtesy of The Rooms Provincial Art Gallery, NL
Studio
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