Michael Snow

by King, James;

  In this installation, the pastoral (Sheeploop) in its small space invites the audience into a larger one. Once there, the domestic (Solar Breath), the hectic (In the Way), and the sublime (Condensation) confront the viewer. And, as is to be expected, there is no guideline of any kind to how to respond and so each visitor will obviously make a different decision and so act as a co-creator with the artist.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE:

  SMOKE AND MIRRORS

  This book has suggested that Michael Snow’s existence as an artist inhabits his life. From his young manhood, the truth of his life resides there, even if truth — as he constantly observes — is an impossible entity to capture. The lives of many artists are histories of their work. This observation is especially true for Snow.

  Nevertheless, he has sometimes hinted at the “real” Michael Snow. However, although he has often used himself as the “model” for some of his photographic works, pieces such as Authorization or Venetian Blind cannot be read autobiographically. There are some pieces, though, where the artist seems to present momentary glimpses into his inner life. The acrylic on canvas Derma (1990) is one such piece.

  The nude male, his back to the viewer, tentatively touches (or attempts to touch) what looks like a canvas containing a brightly coloured abstract (highly saturated oranges, yellows, blues, reds). Immediately, this becomes a work-within-a-work — a self-reflective piece in which a canvas is depicted. The title refers to skin, but does it refer to the skin of the abstract or the accentuated, burnished skin of the male figure? If so, what is the relationship between the two? This acrylic can be read as a commentary on the process that the artist goes through to create. He must make a distinction between life and art and recognize that the two may interact but always remain separate from each other. In that sense, there is a poignancy to the fact that the two remain distinct. The human figure may wish to enter the world of art and become an artifact, but he cannot do so. In “The Circus Animals’ Desertion” and “Sailing to Byzantium,” W.B. Yeats had voiced similar sentiments.

  FIGURE 136. Michael Snow, Derma, 1990.

  The oil Biograph (1991) is divided into two canvases. On the left-hand side, Michael Snow, glimpsed through a camera, is taking a picture — one in which presumably his representation will be captured. However, the image on the right defeats this expectation. That image — an arrangement of the same colours as its companion — is a grid-like abstraction. The artist, it would seem, puts himself into his art but the transformation that occurs is difficult to discern. The artist may be present in his work, but he constantly reconfigures himself.

  The C-print Smoke and Mirrors (1994) shows Michael Snow, dressed very much as he is in the earlier image, again taking a photograph: this time, the upper portion of his body is encased in a circle, but the entire image is in the process of burning and thus being obliterated.

  The term “smoke and mirrors” refers to a complicated act of subterfuge that diverts attention from what is really happening. Here, not only do we not see the photograph taken by Michael Snow but he is also displaying his image being burnt — about to disappear. In this sense, the artist is hinting that his intent is to conceal his real identity and may take elaborate, complicated steps to do so. If there is a “truth,” it may be inaccessible.

  FIGURE 137. Michael Snow, Biograph, 1991.

  FIGURE 138. Michael Snow, Smoke and Mirrors, 1994.

  Snow returned to the WW format in Adam and Eve (1997) in which his face is that of the famous figure but the resulting image shows a blend of male and female. Here, Adam and Eve are conjoined in a Michael Snow who is presented in a Janus-like manner. This may be a clue to seeing Michael Snow as a composite of opposites.

  Still Living (9 x 4 Acts, Scene 1) (1982) — an edition of ten portfolios each containing nine pages and thirty-six images shot with a Polaroid SX-70 — depicts a series of “incidents” (Snow’s terminology) in which various objects belonging to the artist are rendered as still lifes; thus, the photographs, taken at the Newfoundland cottage, provide a taxonomy of the artist at that moment in his life. “The simple elegance of these arrangements,” Adelina Vlas has observed, “lends these images a theatrical quality, as their presentation follows a narrative established by the artist.”1

  FIGURE 139. Michael Snow, page from Still Living (9 x 4 Acts, Scene 1), 1982.

  Snow has compared his use of the still life tradition here to Chardin’s Attributes of Music (1765), in which the artist employs musical instruments, books, and sheets from a composition in a careful arrangement with a deliberately limited colour range. Sound may be absent but is strongly implied. If the various parts were arranged together in real life, music could be played. A similar methodology is used by Snow in Still Living so that each “miniature assemblage” contains various “actors” to suggest movement and real life. “The actors are not at all still,” as Snow points out.2 His ambition became focused in an attempt, as Snow put it, “to indicate the merging of textural, painting, sculptural, theatrical and photographic concerns.” In other words, these various images and their interactions with each other, are attempts to encapsulate the Michael Snow who has used a plurality of genres in his career. He may have accomplished a great deal but he is “still living” and, presumably, still striving.

  In an article in Vanguard, Christopher Dewdney paid close attention to “how each” of the images in Still Living “are grouped in such a manner that they are denuded of their previous contexts and are assembled in a new grammar of identity.… Many of the ‘scenes’ are the enactment of highly personal, compulsive dramas of anthropomorphism. Many are rigorously humorous, some are darkly ironic. Highly complex, each photograph is a theatre of connotation.”3

  Perhaps the life of this artist is captured in the presentation of the objects which, by metonymy, are him. His aura can be felt, but what that aura is cannot be stated with any degree of certainty. These photos are allegorical in that the series of objects shown represent or stand in for the artist — especially the twists and turns in his imagination. However, the arrangement of objects might not seem at first glance to relate to each other but are interconnected in the creator’s imagination. The result is a deliberately constructed puzzle that the viewer is invited to put together. Again, however, there are hints but no certain truths.

  As a young man, Snow, upon discovering that his destiny was to become an artist, tentatively explored that world and then became completely engaged with it. Fully energized, he found more and more ways to make art. He moved to New York in order to test himself in that challenging environment. He returned to Canada, where he constantly found — and continues to find — new ways to express his creative energy. This is an unfolding process. Central to all his work from the beginning is the notion of seeing — what do we behold when we use our eyes?

  FIGURE 140. Michael Snow, Ocul, 1954.

  In a commencement address in 2016, Michael Snow, reflecting on his career, said, “En somme, parlant de la foundation de mon travail comme artiste, je crois que je peux dire qu’il y a eu deux grandes influences sur mon travail et ma carrière. La première était Elzéar Lévesque, et la deuxième Pablo Picasso.”4 [In short, speaking of the beginning of my work as an artist, I think I can say that there were two great influences on my work and my career. The first was Elzéar Lévesque, and the second was Pablo Picasso.]

  Michael Snow is a firm believer in ancestry as the key to understanding someone’s life and career and, in paying tribute to his maternal grandfather, he is acknowledging this. He is also calling attention to the fact that his surname might be Anglo-Saxon but that his mother was Quebecois.

  FIGURE 141. Craig Boyko, Michael Snow, 2012.

  The choice of Picasso might seem an odd one, but one of Snow’s first surviving pieces of art is based on his response to an article in LIFE magazine on the great Spanish painter. Moreover, Picasso worked in a wide variety of genres and was always open to various kinds of experimentation during his long career. The same
observation can be made about Michael Snow.

  In his talk, Snow defined himself as a Canadian artist, one whose talents derive in large part from circumstances of birth. However, he went on to align himself with an artist known for his protean accomplishments. Put another way, Snow is a Canadian artist who dared to tackle many genres and in many different ways.

  The outer events in Snow’s existence — his lives as man and artist — have been described in this narrative, but the inner life can only be discerned in the works. There the inner man can be seen, the artist whose entire career has been a succession of daring experiments.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  For assistance in researching and writing this book, I wish to thank the following who spoke with me about Michael Snow: Robert Fones, Peggy Gale, Denyse Rynard, and Georgine Ferguson Strathy. Sarah Milroy suggested I write a life of Snow, and I am grateful to her for gentle prodding. Mani Manzini, Snow’s assistant and collaborator, has helped me in many ways.

  I am deeply indebted to the writings on Snow, especially the work of Regina Cornwell, Louise Dompierre, R. Bruce Elder, Adele Freedman, Robert Fulford, Gerald Hannon, Martha Langford, David Lancashire, Annette Michelson, Dennis Reid, P. Adams Sitney, and Adelina Vlas.

  Amy Furness at the Art Gallery of Ontario provided excellent guidance to using the Snow fonds. I am especially grateful to AGO archivist Marilyn Nazar for her kind, generous assistance.

  Allison Hirst, as always, has been an exemplary editor: thorough, intuitive, and kind. Dominic Farrell has carefully, precisely, and intuitively copy-edited my manuscript.

  My greatest indebtedness is to Michael Snow, who opened the doors to his home and his studio to me, answered all my many questions, read three drafts of this book, and, in every conceivable way, helped me to understand the complexities of his many lives and works.

  SHORT TITLES

  AGO

  Michael Snow fonds at the Art Gallery of Ontario.

  Almost

  Michael Snow Almost Cover to Cover. Essays by Catsou Roberts, Martha Langford, A.L. Rees, Amy Taubin, Malcolm LeGrice, and John Pruitt. London: Black Dog Press, 2001.

  Baird

  Daniel Baird. “Riffing: Jazz Inspired Michael Snow, the Most Influential Canadian Artist of All Time, to Explore the Unexplored,” The Walrus (March 2011).

  Collected Writings

  Michael Snow. The Collected Writings, ed. Louise Dompierre. Waterloo: Wilfred Laurier University Press, 1994.

  Cornwell

  Regina Cornwell. Snow Seen: The Films and Photographs of Michael Snow. Toronto: Peter Martin Associates, 1980.

  Dompierre

  Louise Dompierre. Walking Woman Works. Kingston: Agnes Etherington Art Gallery, Queens University, 1983.

  Freedman

  Adele Freedman. “The Disappearing Man,” Canadian Art (Spring 1994).

  Hannon

  Gerald Hannon. “Provocateur (Profile of Michael Snow),” Toronto Life (April 1994).

  Lancashire

  David Lancashire et al., ed. The Michael Snow Project: Music/Sound, 1948–1993. Toronto: Knopf, 1994.

  Lind

  Jane Lind. Joyce Wieland: Artist on Fire. Toronto: Lorimer, 2001.

  Nowell

  Iris Nowell. Joyce Wieland: A Life in Art. Toronto: ECW, 2001.

  Photo-Centric

  Adelina Vlas, ed. Photo-Centric. Essays by Vlas and Michael Snow. Philadelphia: Philadelphia Museum of Art, 2014.

  Reid

  Dennis Reid et al., ed. The Michael Snow Project: Visual Art, 1951–1993. Toronto: Knopf, 1994.

  Sequences

  Michael Snow. Michael Snow — Sequences — A History of His Art. Barcelona: Ediciones Poligrafa, 2015.

  Survey

  Michael Snow. Michael Snow/A Survey. Toronto: Art Gallery of Ontario, 1970.

  Touching

  Jean Arnaud. “Touching to See,” October 114 (Autumn 2005).

  NOTES

  Introduction

  1. Michael Snow, “Michael Snow,” evidence 2 (Spring 1961), unpaginated.

  2. Michael Snow, “Artist Statement” (1967), reprinted in Collected Writings, 26.

  3. John Bentley Mays, “‘It’s Often Necessary,’ Snow says, ‘To Define Your Own Direction,’” Globe and Mail, December 1, 1984.

  4. Michael Snow, interview with Nicole Gringas, Art Press 234 (April 1998), 21.

  5. Malcolm Turvey, “The Child in the Machine: On the Use of CGI in Michael Snow’s *Corpus Callosum, October 114 (Fall 2005), 29.

  6. Robert Fones, “Michael Snow’s Bent: Image Distortion in 1956,” Ciel Variable 100 (Spring 2015), 65.

  7. Catsou Roberts and Michael Snow, “An Intercontinental Collage,” Almost, 12.

  8. Christopher Dewdney, as quoted by Susan Walker in “Blizzard of Snow Ahead,” Toronto Star, March 5, 1994.

  9. Baird.

  10. Hannon.

  11. Kate Taylor, “In the Eye of a Snow Storm,” Globe and Mail, March 12, 1994.

  12. Baird.

  Chapter One: Origins

  1. Denyse Rynard, interview with James King, March 12, 2017.

  2. Convocation Address, Université du Québec à Chicoutimi, April 2016.

  3. Ibid.

  4. Rynard interview.

  5. Convocation Address.

  6. Hannon.

  7. Survey, 127.

  Chapter Two: Conversion

  1. Lancashire, 36.

  2. Freedman.

  3. Michael Snow, quoted in Manny Farber, “The Arts: Farewell to a Lady,” Time (Canadian Edition), January 24, 1969, 17.

  Chapter Three: Jazz Band

  1. Lancashire, 45.

  2. Hannon.

  3. Ibid.

  4. Snow in conversation with Louise Dompierre, October 4, 1982. Taped interview.

  5. See Hajo Düchting, Paul Klee: Painting Music (Munich: Prestel, 2016).

  6. Ibid., 13–14.

  7. “Ontario Society of Artists Uncovers New Talents,” Canadian Art 9 (Summer 1952), 170–71.

  8. Georgine Ferguson Strathy, interview with James King, July 12, 2017.

  9. Snow, interview with Dompierre.

  Chapter Four: A Man Drawing Lines

  1. Hannon.

  2. Ibid.

  3. Snow, interview with Dompierre.

  4. Ibid.

  5. Ibid.

  6. Ibid.

  7. Lancashire, 58.

  8. Sequences, 65.

  9. Michael Snow, letter to his parents, January 16, 1955. MS: AGO.

  10. John Grande, “The Michael Snow Project,” ETC 27 (1994), 1–4.

  Chapter Five: Intimations

  1. Snow, interview with Dompierre.

  2. Peter Goddard, “Remembering Toronto’s 1960s Spadina Art Scene,” Canadian Art (July 2014).

  3. Michael Snow quoted in Isaacs Seen: 50 Years on the Art Front; A Gallery Scrapbook, ed. Donnalu Wigmore (Toronto: Justina M. Barnicke Gallery, Hart House, 2005), 40.

  4. Isaacs Seen, 9.

  5. Typescript is dated January 6, 1955. AGO.

  6. Hannon.

  7. Barrie Hale, Toronto Paintings 1953–1969 (Ottawa: National Gallery, 1972), 57.

  8. Alex K. Gigeroff, “Nude Controversy Painters Outline Personal Attitude,” Varsity, January 10, 1955.

  9. Lotta Dempsey, “Person to Person,” Globe and Mail, February 16, 1956.

  10. Les Lawrence, “Open Up New Gallery,” Varsity, February 3, 1956.

  11. Sequences, 59.

  12. Hannon.

  Chapter Six: Gestures

  1. Hannon.

  2. Ibid.

  3. Nowell, 133.

  4. Hannon.

  5. Lancashire, 63–64.

  6. Sequences, 65.

  7. Robert Fulford, “World of Art: Cool and Playful,” Toronto Star, March 4, 1961.

  8. Sequences, 65–66.

  9. Paul Duval, “Accent on Art: Intent and Serious,” Toronto Telegram, March 18, 1961.

  10. Elizabeth Kilbourn, “Coast to Coast in Art: Toronto-Hamilton,�
� Canadian Art 18 (May–June 1961), 184.

  11. Robert Fulford, “World of Art: Snow Explored Edge of Art,” Toronto Star, March 7, 1959.

  12. “CJBC Views the Shows, Excerpts.” MS: AGO.

  13. Kilbourn, 184.

  14. Dennis Burton: A Retrospective (Oshawa: Robert McLaughlin Gallery, 1977), 88.

  Chapter Seven: Drawn Out

  1. “About Michael Snow,” Paintings, Sculptures, Drawings by Michael Snow (Toronto: Greenwich Gallery, 1956).

  2. Pearl McCarthy, “Art and Artists: Younger Group Rising Over Weary Sterilities,” Globe and Mail, October 20, 1956.

  3. Robert Fulford, “Triple-Threat in Abstracts,” Mayfair 30 (June 1956), 51–52.

  4. Robert Fulford, “World of Art: Cool and Playful,” Toronto Star, March 4, 1961.

  5. Sequences, 65.

  6. Robert Fulford, The Best Seat in the House: Memoirs of a Lucky Man (Toronto: Collins, 1988), 93, 94.

  Chapter Eight: A Lot of Near Mrs.

  1. Kathe Gray, “Michael Snow: An Interview with the Artist,” Ontarion 116, issue 2 (January 17–23, 1995).

  2. Collected Writings, 10.

  3. Reid, 114.

  4. Michael Snow to Linda Milrod, February 5, 1979. MS: Agnes Etherington Centre.

  5. Sequences, 79.

  6. Reid, 61.

  7. Sequences, 79.

  8. Gray.