a wave in other words

A black and white Lynne Cohen photograph of a tiled spa interior dominated by a round white structure that fills the low-ceilinged space
June 18, 2021 to September 5, 2021

Curated by Crystal Mowry

Featuring works by Hattie Amit'naaq, Shuvinai Ashoona, Irene Avaalaaqiaq, Deanna Bowen, Christo, Lynne Cohen, Stanley Cosgrove, Kathleen Daly Pepper, Elizabeth Eastman, Colwyn Griffith, Milutin Gubash, Adad Hannah, April Hickox, David Peter Hunsberger, Paul Hutner, Mary Kavanagh, Wanda Koop, Geela Keenainak, An Te Liu, Shelley Niro, Daphne Odjig, Margaret Priest, Amanda Rhodenizer, Wilfrid H. Schultz, Robert Sinclair, Arnold Shives, H.F. Smyth, C.V. Stübbe-Teglbjaerg, Jacoposie Tiglik, Ruth Annaqtuusi Tulurialik, and Andrew Wright

In the last year and more we have spoken of time differently. Phrases such as “the before times” have become a tidy way to convey the period before the pandemic spurred a reimagining of how we connect with others. We spoke of time “slowing down” in the periods when the newly-housebound among us decried the loss of familiar routines. The opposite may be true for those of us who are caring for others constantly, losing time on our own.

We may ask ourselves, “when did we become the clock?”

By now we have all assumed that plans of any scale must include a pause or pivot contingency. Echoes, waves, or other linear interruptions are frequently mentioned in relation to public health and lockdown moods alike.

What if we aren’t the clock but the pendulum?

The works convened for this exhibition highlight how a shared resource such as the Permanent Collection can offer insights on various themes that have emerged in the last year. New acquisitions by Deanna Bowen and Mary Kavanagh reveal how abstraction and omission can be factors in collective remembrance. Lynne Cohen’s uncanny images of unpopulated spaces hint at the shifting role of the commons. In Daphne Odjig’s Little Mothers, we are reminded of how the burden of care may be gendered. During this period of swings and stasis, how will we each choose to acknowledge our respective circumstances? Will we focus on the pause or will we try our hand at defining the pendulum?


Lynne Cohen (Canadian, b. USA 1944-2014), Spa, 1991. Gelatin silver print, 110.5cm x 128.3cm (framed). Kitchener-Waterloo Art Gallery Collection. Gift of Andrew Lugg, 2017. © Estate of Lynne Cohen. Used by permission. Photo: Lynne Cohen.