In a restaurant called The Drake Commissary in Toronto, next to the MOCA, is an exhibition piece called “Fast Forward” by Maxwell N. Burnstein. It wasn’t something I had planned to see. It wasn’t something that I had sought out. It was something that was just there. Perhaps that’s what made this piece more intriguing than most of the artwork I experienced at the museum/galley right next door. Maxwell Burnstein is a Canadian artist who specialises in hand made photographic collages by cutting them with an x-acto knife to create different images, especially in the fashion industry.

The work is hung up on a chalkboard with a wooden frame around it. The chalkboard is split up into four sections, the center two is words written in plain white chalk, white the two chalk panels on the side are photographs protruding from the dark background. The photographs are of two people, model looking and professional, like a fashion photoshoot. Pieces of their clothing are cut out to reveal the blank board at the back. Three lights are positioned above the words and the two images. This light casts a shadow through the cut-out parts of the photos to create an almost abstract sort of shadow in the background. The text in the center is titled “THINGS THAT ARE DISTANT THOUGH NEAR” and below list different things that fit the title. A poem written by Suzanne Buffam, a famous Canadian poet.

The mix of words and imagery in this piece compliments each other in a way that makes both pieces of work stronger than if they were individual. The photographs absence of certain pieces through cutting gives a feeling of emptiness, and the shadows behind these empty spaces give a pattern behind that looks abstract at first, but when looked at more almost looks like a second body behind the person, a 3D shadow. The two pictures are of a male and a female. The empty parts of them feels like they are the ones who are distant though near. Their shadows are distant but near, their pictures are distant but near. Almost as if their own happiness and completeness is the basis for the words written in the center.

I had gone to the MOCA before I went to the Drake Commissary with my graduating class. I looked at quite a few other art pieces. None of them grabbed my attention. Perhaps because I was so overwhelmed with the large group of young adults discussing and traversing their way around these pieces. Perhaps because I don’t have the mind to appreciate the meaning and small nuances that artists the MOCA exhibits convey through their mediums. I appreciate the pieces, I appreciate the work that go into them, but for some art pieces they don’t grab me in any sort of deep thought way. They don’t make me feel, they don’t give me a pause.

That’s when I went to The Drake Commissary. The rest of the group split up, going their separate ways. I don’t really connect with people well so I decided to go out and have a beer by myself. The restaurant was nice, but being midday on a Thursday it was quite empty. Even so, sitting alone in a restaurant looks and feels odd. The place the waitress sat me was directly under “Fast Forward”. I didn’t notice it at first, but eventually I looked at it, and then I couldn’t stop. I read the words over and over again and I felt it. I realised then I had felt it all day. I see these empty, cut out pieces of my classmates, of my friends, even of the waitress that talked to me while I drank. These things that are distant although near, they are around us every day. For my friends and classmates, one of those things is “adulthood”. This concept for us is so close, just weeks away from the end of our school. Yet so many are going on to more education, or are confused and scared of the future. People working jobs just to get by and not being able to advance any further with their lives or career. It’s all this distance of adulthood that we constantly avoid, yet it’s near. It’s very near.

Maybe that’s why this piece stood out so much. It’s relatable. It’s something I was thinking all day but never could put into words. I watched us all play and laugh and stack giant cushions in the MOCA entrance and crawl through a tunnel. Even watching my professor crawl through the cushion tunnel we built. Childhood and Adulthood. These empty holes in us, distant but near.

I think the setting of this exhibit amplifies this feeling. Going to art galleries and museums are nice, and I certainly appreciate the art and the artists behind it, but at the same time it’s a different feeling in this environment. This sort of cold, white feeling with not so happy workers in suits with tags staring daggers at you to make sure you don’t so much as breathe when you look at the art. It’s almost uncomfortable, and it’s hard to appreciate and understand when you are uncomfortable. Some of the best artwork my friends and I have seen were in places that you wouldn’t expect. Bars in Detroit, graffiti in alleys in Toronto, exhibitions in restaurants. This sort of more relaxed, fun environment seems to be more attractive when viewing art. Maybe because the art doesn’t have a “forbidden, better than thou” sort of feeling to it. It feels like the art is on your level, there to not make you feel inferior or insignificant, but to be something for you and your friends to notice and talk about over a beer or two. It’s more cozy and down to earth feeling.

 

This piece goes well in so many ways. From the setting in a dark and cozy restaurant/bar, to the thought-provoking poetry in the center written in plain chalk, to the interesting collage photographs that pull it all together. It is a piece to discover, not a piece to seek out. It’s a surprise, a pleasant one, that relates and reminds us of all the things that we consider distant but near.