Another Time

My moving to Switzerland, years ago, brought a major shift in my creative activities, from more visually-based art painting and printmaking, to words and text-based output. A great deal of that was due to the dramatic cultural change, between the two continents involved, and the plain reality that making a decent living from visual arts in Switzerland is a true rarity. The lucky, the highly connected or the annoyingly noisy get a crack at it, but very few others.

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Same brushstrokes, different folks

The olden and not so golden

The kindness, care and appreciation of a handful of excellent gallery owners and art dealers, back in Canada, allowed my work to find its way into many private collections, as well as some slick corporate ones including BP and Mobil Oil. With a wry smile, one could wonder if there might be a connection between those hydrocarbon giants and the fact that I was working mostly in oil paints... It would make sense now, maybe, that some recent mini-works on my Samsung tablet could one day end up at some big electronic company, or in their collection, as electrons and lithium now push oil and petroleum off the stage. Silly comparison, I know, but a fun thought.


Back to more serious things, it would be fair and proper, to acknowledge the kind support of Mrs. Ruth Freiman, owner of Robertson Galleries in Ottawa some time ago, Natalie Szabo and Greg Best, the Images on Elgin gallery in Ottawa, Dimension Plus in Montreal, Progressive Editions in Toronto and a handful of others including Mr. Laurier Dubé, who showed my work for the first time in Europe, and also organized a barter with one of my favourite Greek artists, Mr. Alekos Fassianos, whose lithograph still proudly hangs here today, in Fribourg. I love the piece as much now as I did when the barter was first done, and I hope that Alekos still enjoys my own handmade serigraph, wherever he has it hanging.


Like all artists have always done, dating back to those Canadian days, I kept a handful of pieces, and not to stare that career fracture too squarely in the face, I never went back into those cartons and portfolios but just stored them away. At various times, the portfolios were under beds, behind furniture, up in the attic, where they remain today. Now though, in late 2019, I am beginning to consider that it might be important, if only to close off that part of my life, to go back into that storage to have a look, if the spiders have left me any part intact. In all fairness, I wish I could tackle that process in the company of the dozens of friends and patrons-become-friends that I left behind, when I left Canada, that they too might share in the unveiling. Many would probably want to slap me around a bit, for leaving Canada without so much as a word of goodbye, while for years since, they have been staring at my artwork in their kitchen every morning. Sorry Jadranka, sorry Kim, sorry Janice and a dozen others. How and why it happened is inexcusable, but part of an unfinished book that I never returned to. Nonetheless, there are a lot of paintings out there, hopefully still being enjoyed, and I admit that it was a lovely coincidence in bad circumstances when my Toronto policewoman-sister showed up at some anonymous home in that city of over 3 million souls, to gather evidence after a break-in, and by chance saw that one of my artworks was hanging on the wall.


So, long story short, I plan to display photos of some of that "stashed" artwork here, in the coming months. It will be fairly cathartic for me to get it online, for the above reasons, as well as a few others which I probably cannot really discern at this point in time. Some may even be for sale, who knows. Keep an eye on the place, from time to time.