You might notice some repetition in this newsletter. The same artists mentioned frequently. This indicates how I interact with the art world. It’s not about quantity, constantly chasing to discover new artists, but something more sustainable: The thrill of following an artist’s career, participating in milestones alongside them, watching them succeed, and supporting them in various ways. Support can take the form of collecting to attending to sharing.
Michael Thompson is one of these artists. I first saw Thompson’s work in 2022 when I was asked to write an exhibition text for a solo exhibition during his MFA at Guelph University. I read his thesis and delved deeply into the materiality of his work and the references behind the images he chose to paint. I was thrilled when he started showing at Franz Kaka in Toronto (also often mentioned in Art Forecast).
Last year, after months of pining for one of his works, I was disappointed to learn it had sold. This is a lesson I’ve learned the hard way: If you wait too long to collect something, it will slip through your fingers. I started considering other pieces, but my heart was still with the tiny goose painting. On Christmas, I opened a stocky rectangle package to discover that Keiran had bought the painting months ago to surprise me. It now sits on our mantel as one of the more thoughtful gifts ever given to me.
Two excerpts from the 2022 exhibition text that I wrote for Thompson’s show, Idle Hour Weaver at Lalani-Jennings:
Michael Thompson’s paintings echo a similar feeling of looking at a cropped image of a well-known destination. A button attached to a jacket is depicted with minute scope. The painterly lens is pointed at the middle of the jacket, focussing on the gleam of the buttons and the ripples in the fabric. There’s the sense that the wearer has just taken a large breath, the oxygen in their lungs pushing the apparel towards the viewer. The almost 1:1 scale between the painting and the viewer, which is hung at about shoulder level, creates the sense that one could step forward and wear the painting. The boundary between fiction and reality blurs, and the viewer is acutely made aware of their own body in the space.
The mirroring of a canvas jacket and a painting on canvas increases a feeling of familiarity and the painting’s ability to copy life through aesthetics and material. Thompson’s textural depictions—slightly distressed and oscillating between opaque and transparent—emulate the condition of a well-worn object. These visual cues aid in filling in the details around the close crop offered to the viewer. Thompson's painting exists in a vague world without temporal, historical, or geographical markers, allowing projection and a sense of putting together pieces of a puzzle.
Michael Thompson has paintings in the upcoming GTA 2024 Triennial Exhibition at MOCA that opens on March 22nd. If you’re thinking of attending the opening, message me! If there’s enough interest, I’ll get a group together to go together.