I’m not the sharpest tool in the shed, nor do I claim to be. So I’m going to get this out in the open right now and say I’m just not much of an art guy.
I try, and I appreciate what people do; I can barely draw a stick figure. I drew a princess for my daughter the other day, at her request, and she said it looked “weird.” So when people make things that look good, I’m impressed. I don’t understand the whole “painting fruit in a bowl” rubbish, though.
Anyway, I grew up around these parts, so I’ve long been frustrated with Emily Carr. Why? Because I just never really got her paintings. Emily Carr Collected (Douglas & McIntyre, $19.95) helps me ease a bit of that frustration.
Collecting a bunch of the artist’s best work in a small, easy-to-deal-with format, printed on paper that allows the colours to both pop and maintain their subtlety when needed, the book may not be essential for Carr followers who have most of this stuff in their collection already, but it’s a great introduction.
Some of it still doesn’t grab me, but when it does, it’s striking: the depth of the colours, the passion of the imagery, the west coast tone.
The book features an introduction by Ian Thom, who has held senior curatorial positions at the Art Gallery of Greater Victoria and the McMichael Canadian Art Collection. In the intro, Thom talks about Carr’s art and her life, starting off with the anecdote of Carr referring to herself as a “lone old tree” in 1933. As this book proves, sometimes those who feel most alone create some of the most timeless art.
The intro also helps paint some context into all the works found in the book, which is very helpful for newcomers like myself. It also gives a glimpse into Carr’s mindset and what was happening in her life at the time of various works.
Like I say, I’m not the smartest guy in the world when it comes to art (although I’m smart enough to know that paintings of fruit in bowls are silly), but this book just helped ease me a bit further into a rich and rewarding world.