Roberts Gallery 641 Yonge Street, Toronto, Ontario | 416 924 8731 Thu, 18 Apr 2019 16:35:26 +0000 en-CA hourly 1 ARTIST INTRODUCTION: ROBERT STRICKLAND Fri, 22 Mar 2019 18:13:15 +0000 View Article]]> Robert Strickland was born in 1988 in Richmond Hill, Ontario.  Strickland’s formal fine art education began at Sheridan College, where he immersed himself in painting, colour theory, draftsmanship, and design, all of which have become the foundation of his art. He furthered his education by receiving the Chalmers professional development Grant from the Ontario Arts council, this allowed him mentorship with revered artists in the United States.

With a keen eye for observation, Strickland from a young age always nurtured a deep curiosity for his surroundings that have defined his art. Painting alla prima (usually from life and in the moment) allowed Strickland to study his surroundings intimately and fed his curiosity. Being out in nature allowed him to discern subtleties in light and colour while he articulated it with paint. His family had a cottage near Algonquin Park which allowed him to explore the area more frequently and paint outdoors. Robert was inspired by artists like Tom Thomson, who immersed themselves in nature and developed their language in the Canadian landscape. As Robert grew older and spent more time within the city his language developed to articulate changing social dynamics and the urban landscape. His curiosity continued with his fascination with people. What are their lives like? What are their beliefs and values? What led to this moment? Robert pays homage to rich traditions while forging new conversations in contemporary art.

Strickland is part of a novo realist movement that rebels against the technological and mechanical world as well the art world dominated by modern and postmodernism. Unlike the mechanical process of a camera the painter interprets their empirical reality and projects it through their imagination, this is the human element of storytelling. It is a civilization long combined experience and practise in understanding the visual world, communicating, knowledge and spirit. He believes there are values associated with beauty, language and nature. Realism and impressionism have been misunderstood as a mimic art but in the right hands it can be a highly creative force in the way stories are told.

Shanghai Blues – Jimmy Perron Tue, 19 Mar 2019 15:12:24 +0000 View Article]]> In 2017, Jimmy Perron was invited to be part of a collective exhibition at the Jiangsu’s Traditional Painting Institute located in southwest China. During his stay, he discovered a contrasting world of grandeur and excess, dissonance and beauty; the change of scenery and the amazement are complete.

The city of Shanghai strikes the artist’s senses with its opulence, its stature and its various dualities. This can be found to be destabilizing at first, but merge in harmony after all.

Perron had a revelation as he discovered the art of paper and print made by stone carvings. This technique opened up new horizons to him, and enriches his pictorial language. This medium is now an important facet of his artistic approach and appears in most of the works shown in this exhibition.

This “Shanghai Blues” exhibition paints a subtle portrait of his journey by intertwining his Nordic reality and the indescribable marks left in his imagination by the Celestial Empire.

Bewabon Shilling – Tree Series Fri, 15 Feb 2019 20:01:33 +0000 View Article]]>

Video by: Maltese Media

Words from the Director, Paul Wildridge:

“It is always interesting to watch an artist develop throughout their career. In the case of Bewabon Shilling, we first met him when we started handling the work of his late father, Arthur Shilling. That was in 1989 when Be was 12. We followed his progression going through OCAD from 1998 to 2001 and started handling his work in 2002 at the age of 25.

Since that time he has experimented and developed. There have been series of landscapes, portraits, still life, fields, ice huts and forests. He has taken these ‘series’ and worked them in and out of abstraction, left them and then revisited them to develop them further.

Most recently his “Field” or “Trees” images have been a major interest. In October of 2017 Be was struggling with what he was going to paint next. He was ‘flat’ and uninspired. But as we sat at Art Toronto he started sending us “texts” with images of these new works he was producing right outside his studio window. Raking leaves on a beautiful Fall day gave him the boost to see a new subject. We were very excited as these images kept flowing our way and suggested that these were too good to not display them.

That led to a Pop Up show at our gallery in late November with 24 new works. The public’s reaction was the same as ours and we sold all of the pieces in 2 days. This series has developed since then and will be the focus of Be’s upcoming exhibition. The new Tree series is bigger, more colourful, filled with light and verging on abstraction.

The new show will also include revisited themes of ice huts, landscapes, fields and portraits.
Should be an exciting show!”

FRAGMENTS OF THE DAY… by Susan Oomen Fri, 14 Sep 2018 19:38:19 +0000 View Article]]> Often in the course of a day I find myself captivated by an image. It is usually a brief moment, when light and circumstance come together to create something that is unforgettable. It may somehow be linked to an event, or person, but often it is random. It was about 14 years ago when I was first captivated by a reflection of a red boat on still waters. Since then I find myself on the water whenever possible. It is a time of complete escape, when I can shut out everything, and lose myself in the visual.

When I am painting images from water excursions, it is more than an attempt to capture visual moments on a canvas; it is a desire to relive the experience. The challenge is usually in describing the light that was particular to a certain experience. I often revisit a subject hoping to get the feeling of light a little further to what is in my mind’s eye. The light is significant to the time of day, as afternoon and morning light create quite different effects on water. One such experience produced a painting titled ‘Island at Twilight’. This painting recalls a late afternoon outing on a lake near Algonquin. After an evening cookout, we walked in near darkness to shore. Coming out of darkened woods it was stunning to see the evening light on the water. An island floated in front of us in the mist, surrounded by the multi colours of a twilight sky, and perfectly reflected on a still lake. On the paddle back, floating on this completely still lake with sky reflection all around us, if you have experienced it, you will know that there is the sensation of flying.

An experience that was the inspiration for ‘Father, Daughter’ occurred just before sunset last fall. It was on Mazinaw Lake and I came across a young family in two canoes. The first canoe held what I assumed was the father and the oldest child, a girl of about five or six. The second canoe held the mother, and three smaller children. As they passed by they were framed by evening light. Their faces were mostly hidden in shadow. It was a fleeting moment, figures fringed by warm light, with a backdrop of sparkling water and darkening horizon….an arresting image. It also recalled my own memories of outings with family, and is a reminder to me of the passing of time, how these moments so quickly become memories.

Each painting in this show ‘fragments of the day’ recalls a moment on the water, a memory, an image that has stayed with me. The fragments are not all from one day, but from many days, random moments….afternoon light on dock chairs, boathouses lit by late morning light, images of canoes just after sunrise. They are images that linger, and recall joyful experiences.

CYRIL HENRY BARRAUD Fri, 17 Aug 2018 15:44:45 +0000 View Article]]> The exhibition focuses primarily on the etchings by Cyril H. Barraud (1877-1965) a British artist and graphic designer, who immigrated to Canada from England in 1913, and took up residence in Winnipeg. There, Barraud taught at the Winnipeg School of Art where his artistic influence had great impact on the community which included Walter J. Phillips to whom he taught etching. Other notable Canadian War Artists included are Dorothy Stevens, Frank and Caroline Armington, Gyrth Russell, James Kerr-Lawson, Samuel H. Maw, C. W. Jefferys and Arthur Lismer.

In 1990, I first came in contact with two of Barraud’s war etchings at a Ritchie’s auction sale. At that time, I had never heard of him nor had I seen any prior works. His compositions were deliberate
and carefully orchestrated. He transcribes the obliterated landscape with precision, sometimes using cryptic articulate lines and tone manipulation to heighten the visual aesthetics and atmospheric conditions. The war-shattered buildings were carefully delineated and precise in their endeavour to describe the
desolate devastations of war as seen in the etching titled, “The Great Square”. The figure, whether isolated or in groupings, added greatly to the dynamic tension found within the compositions.

Barraud was sent overseas in August 1915 with the 43rd Battalion, and in November 1917 was appointed an official War Artist. During his time in France and Belgium, Barraud sketched along the front lines and many of these sketches were later used to create etchings for the Canadian War Memorials Fund. These
images were part of the Canadian War Memorials Exhibition held in London in 1919.

Discussing his work with former curator Rosemarie Tovell of the Print and Drawing division at the National Gallery of Canada, she stated that Barraud etchings were the most expressive of all the Canadian War Artist. She went to describe such work as “Evening on Ypres” and “Entering Ypres at Dawn” “as poignant and moving masterpieces”.

2018 marked the Centenary Commemorative Anniversary of Armistice that ended World War 1. Canada along with other Allied countries continue to remember and honour the Memories of all those who served, died and were affected by the war, both at home and abroad.

This Centenary Exhibition of War Images is in recognition of the sacrifice of those men and woman who fought, as well as a tribute to the artists who created the artwork, each telling its own story of a time and place once was.

Words from the Collector Thu, 09 Aug 2018 16:17:52 +0000 View Article]]> In my quest for Barrauds, I was fortunate to have had the opportunity to speak with family members both in Kingston Ontario, and in England whose grandfather or great grandfather had participated in the First World War.

I was able to purchase ‘The Great Square’ drawing from a gallery in England some time ago and was told that on the back side is another drawing of women with purses and wearing hats and skirts. Upon receiving the drawing, I quickly realized that it was the preparatory sketch for the oil painting, “The Stretcher- Bearer Party” that is currently in the collection of the Canadian War Museum, Ottawa

The search for Barrauds was a great education onto itself. His war etchings are difficult to find as many are in private collections, institutions, galleries and museums around the world.

My hope is that you will appreciate his draughtsmanship skills as much as I enjoyed the process of collecting them.  One writer wrote, “the inevitable destruction of these locations is as carefully rendered as the original idyllic settings. It is hard to picture these romantic scenes coming from a soldier living in the trenches, yet his vision, despite his surroundings, was a graceful one.”

Barraud retired from service at the end of August 1919. He died in England in 1965, but his artwork continues to offer us a rare but permanent record of the life and death of villages along the frontline.

I would like to thank the entire staff at Roberts Gallery for undertaking this Centenary Exhibition of Canadian etchings and for highlighting the significant contributions that Cyril H. Barraud’s artwork has made to the Canadian art establishment.

MESSAGE FROM RICHARD MONTPETIT Tue, 08 May 2018 13:59:37 +0000 View Article]]> I would like to share the spirit in which I prepared my work for my upcoming show at Roberts Gallery. I ask myself what I am expressing in my work and the clear answer is to try to witness the nourishing and richness that I experience in a subject. Beauty brings me deep peace.

My goal is to have the viewer feel like they are there having the same emotions. To that purpose I ask myself, what are the characteristics that reveal the location, the season and the time of day in that piece. Intuition and sensitivity go much deeper than logical thinking in studying the light that creates that unique moment. All the colours must work together in the same key, then it means something more than the esthetic aspect.

My living in the country for the past few years has made me more involved with the landscape and nature scenes that I encounter on my walks. Reflections in the water or a close-up where the light and shadows build the composition allow me to paint in an abstract way so that the colours are making the painting. Colour in is its own mystery give sensations and express emotions just like music. I understand why Riopelle did not see any difference between figurative and abstract painting.
Whether I am painting a street scene or a landscape, my search is the same and it has brought me further in the study of harmony and colour. I am using saturated pastel colours with lower contrasts so that the light is coming from the colour itself. The contemplative aspect of those nature scenes, a fluid drawing with arabesques and the design of some decorative leaves give an oriental touch to my impressionist style. There is no coincidence in this evolution. My art without any didactic intention simply reflects my soul and my quest.

-Richard Montpetit

Discussing the Muse and other ways to invent art Tue, 10 Apr 2018 18:00:00 +0000 View Article]]>

People often ask me about the creative process, about my work, plein-air sketches and studio paintings. There are many answers to that question. Almost as many as there are works since they all come about somehow through a different mental process.

Few people have seen my sketches. Ink or pencil and watercolor sketches that contribute a great deal to my inspiration. Travelling in Provence, Italy, England or in the state of Maine, I spend a lot of time sketching. I am married to an understanding woman who can keep busy with other things while I sit and draw. Sketching is learning. Learning about places and people. It helps one feel at home anywhere. So much for travel anxiety!
Sketching brings fresh ideas to the studio inventions I design on canvas in my studio. I use the word inventions because the studio work comes from the mind as the sketches come from observation. I never copy a sketch in acrylics. But I do go back to the sketchbooks and leaf through past experiences. Sketches tell me a lot more to work from than would a photo because of the things that happen around me when I’m sketching that come to mind leafing the sketchbook. Most of my paintings would never happen without the field research.
As an example, today, I created a painting over another I had erased with gesso yesterday, after hours of frustration and rage. And what came to my brush was a bunch of peonies I saw in St-Rémy-de-Provence flower market last spring. Peonies almost as wonderful to look at as the young woman who sold them.
Paintings come from the heart. Sketches come from the subject the artist observes in bright sunlight somewhere overlooking the Mediterranean or sitting in a small provençal shaded garden. Every painting, as I have said before, tells much more about the artist that it does about the subject depicted. The concept comes in mysterious ways. So mysterious that it gave birth to the notion of Muse. A fleeting woman who whispers the idea to the artist and disappears. Forever unknown, untouched as light sweeping the landscape for a moment on a cloudy day.
That mysterious whisper is the essence. Maybe you have to be an artist to grasp that. And maybe not.

– Claude A. Simard
August 16, 2012

Entre le croquis sur le motif et la création finale

On me demande souvent comment se passe le processus de création d’une de mes toiles. Question complexe puisque la réponse n’est pas nécessairement toujours la même.

Parlons d’abord de mes croquis que peu de personnes ont vus et qui représentent un aspect de mon travail de création. Il est certain que les croquis de contribuent une part importante à mon inspiration. En Provence, en Italie, en Angleterre ou dans le Maine, je dessine tout le temps. Cette manière de passer le temps influence nécessairement les toiles que j’inventerai en atelier plus tard. Remarquez le mot inventer. Quand j’invente une toile, je ne reproduis pas un sketch fait précédemment. Ça serait bien trop monotone de redire. Mais il est vrai que je consulte régulièrement les carnets de croquis et qu’ils allument des concepts qui ne seraient pas possibles si je ne faisais pas l’exercice du croquis.
J’ai souvent dit que faire un sketch, c’est apprendre le sujet. Une fois appris, l’objet, le paysage, la personne dessinés s’ajoutent à ma banque d’idées. Ils deviennent de l’acquis. Ils sont disponibles dans ma mémoire pour usage dans une éventuelle création, composition.
Aujourd’hui, by example, je me suis remis à une toile à moitié blanchie hier par désespoir ou rage. Et ce qui m’est venu au bout du pinceau, c’est un bouquet de pivoines que j’ai vu à St-Rémy le printemps dernier. Qu’elles étaient belles ces pivoines! Belle comme fille en pleine jeunesse.
Dans l’atelier, j’invente le propos de l’oeuvre, alors que sur le motif je dessine à peu près ce que je vois. L’impression de ce que je vois. Je triche bien sur. je triche. Même dans les croquis je sublime un peu la réalité qui peut être si ennuyeuse. Le croquis vient principalement de l’observation alors que le tableau d’atelier vient de l’âme. Chaque toile raconte qui je suis. Elle vient de mon passé et de mon aujourd’hui. D’une femme rencontrée par hasard, si belle qu’on en fait la Provence. Peut-être faut-il être un artiste pour comprendre cela. Et peut-être pas…

– Claude A. Simard
NIGHT PAINTING Tue, 03 Apr 2018 17:39:14 +0000 View Article]]> FROM MCINNIS STUDIO


Obviously, digital cameras have made it easier for the artist who wishes to do “Night Paintings”. They take to night better than did print film. Colour slides  were better. But those days are past.

Historically, serious artists worked from life. When Tom Thomson painted his moose-at-night sketch, you can tell by the quality of the paint that it was done quickly, at shoreline: thin scrub…he could barely see in what little light there was…only the moon as the title tells us. (Moose at Night, Moonlight. Panel, 8 1/2”x 10 1/2” The National Gallery of Canada, Ottawa).

I know the experience. Because of that painting by Thomson, the first image in the first “art book” I ever bought (THOMSON  The Gallery of Canada Art: 2, by R.H. Hubbard. McClelland and Stewart Limited, 1962) I took to going out at night to capture images in emulation. This was in Rockcliffe Park, in Ottawa, (I was in the RCAF at the time as a photographer at Station Rockcliffe and at the same time nurturing an art career). I availed myself of street lamps instead of the moon. Van Gogh, to paint his night scenes, added candles to his straw hat so he could see at night. Inventive, aren’t we?

Many night scenes were done from open doorways with lights overhead, or from studio windows. Many of my studios afforded such opportunities. I remember once, in winter, opening the door after shutting down the furnace, wearing my winter parka, sitting on a chair in the kitchen doorway (Prince George B.C.) painting the  Monet-like row of poplars in front of me, timed to  get the moon as it rose through the trees. (I did the same with sun-rises in fog, a red ball, through the same trees). I would take my sketch book outside and pinpoint the stars as they were at that hour, then dab them in  in white on the black surface of the painting, giving so accurate a map of the sky that an astrologer could read time and location. I was having fun!

Quebec City was a brightly lit place for doing paintings at night of the Terrace or the  ferry coming in from the Levis side.  Later, I used my imagination, especially on the prairie. I used blue in winter to create night, or an erie greeny shade, as Thomson did, for some of his night scenes. For this, I could work from  drawings or turn a daytime oil sketch into a night scene. What ever it took.

However we arrive at it, artists have  long been fascinated by the moon and capturing it one way or another, even in interiors as Jeannette Perrault so aptly does. Quebec’s late painter Jean-Paul Lemieux made great use of the night sky in many of his most familiar paintings. Most notable is “Orion”, showing a lone figure against a snow-covered background and a black sky between the hills, the constellation “Orion” prominent in the  sky.

Night Painting is challenging but offers an opportunity to create moods that ordinary paintings do not. It is this challenge that appeals to many artists as this show at Roberts Gallery attests.




Rachel Gareau (An Education) Thu, 22 Mar 2018 15:38:43 +0000 View Article]]> A personal message from Daniel Gallay on what Gareau’s work means to him:

“I’ve been with Roberts Gallery for about 12 years now. The first time I walked in I knew nothing about art or galleries except that I wanted to be the type of person who did. In the time I’ve spent here, I’ve learned huge amounts about art and artists, skill and material, history and culture. It’s taken time to learn and relearn these things, and it’s a rare and valuable education. There have also been parts of this education that have been very personal, and one of the first of those moments came from the work of Rachel Gareau.

In one of my first years at the gallery, while I was helping to pack for an art fair, the gallery received some last-minute things from the framer. Among them were some small works on paper by Rachel, and I knelt down to look at one in particular. As I held it up to look at it more closely, I had one of the first of what have been very important experiences. I don’t remember the piece exactly, but I do remember it was blue – mostly shades of cerulean and ultramarine. The way the colours were applied reminded me of images of stained glass by Chagall. What those blues made me experience was a glimpse of a very ancient relationship to the world – a sense of how we related to colours before we gave them names. Before we had language, before we called blue “blue”, what was our relationship to it? Blue was the sky, and blue was the ocean. Blue was infinite and all-encompassing, it sheltered us and sustained us. It surrounded us but was always unreachable, and it was almost nowhere else in nature. It was eternal and rare at once: blue was sacred. The feeling I had while holding this small painting was a sense of what is very human about experiencing the world.

I’ve tried over the years to communicate what it is in Rachel’s work that I find so special. I’ve talked about how she builds up layers of colour, creating a sense of depth and atmosphere. I’ve talked about her textures, and how she experiments but never at the expense of a piece. I’ve talked about how while some artists depict light, Rachel’s work is more of an expression of light – not what light does, but what light is. That, in a way, explains what I find most important about her work – not how it’s made, but how it is. The sense I’ve always gotten from her work is that as she makes it, she is both active and passive. She makes deliberate choices but still remains receptive to how the work is evolving and, in a way, expressing itself. There is an openness to her work — she seems to expect the work to be nothing more than what it is. The work in turn seems to expect the same from you. As I look at it I am met with a presence that who I am and how I choose to engage with it are entirely valid and accepted. In the space of that experience, I feel accepted for who I am, as I am. It is an experience I’ve tried to my best to translate into how I am and how I live in the world. It’s a very beautiful part of this rare education, and I’m grateful for it.”

Image detail: LE CIEL SEMBLE EN TRAIN DE DESCENDRE, 2018 by Rachel Gareau / 8 x 8 inches /mixed media on paper