Christina and I have been collaborating since 2016. We both started this journey together out of desperation to start creating work we loved again. Christina had started volunteering at a print studio (which she now works at full-time, so never think those volunteer hours go nowhere) and I was working at an art studio in Calgary. I may have been in a painting rut; mind you, I always feel like I'm in a painting rut. But I was out of art school with BIG DREAMS of becoming a well known fine artist but finding out that my likes and my art may not fit into what was considered 'fine art' (I'm cool with it now, never trade relatability for honesty- thanks Rupi). But for more clarity on my rut I got a really bad review on a painting I submitted for a jury show and it got torn apart. I essentially stopped painting for months. Never do that folks, don't let one artsy-gallery guy or gal's review of your work determine how you value or feel about your work. If you want to paint those mountain salmon pink and seafoam you go right away! CLEARLY it's an odd choice in colour- thanks artsy-gallery dude for your opinion- but it's your/my painting and your/my work and when you/I can pick ANY colour to make mountains, why, why, why would you/I chose the colours they already are. This reasoning is beyond me and probably why that salmon-pink-seafoam-mountain painting is still hung up in only my house.
Anyways, safe to say we (maybe more me) both needed something to get the juices flowing again and the idea of collaborating was really exciting. We were both fans of each others work, so that was a good start. We both agreed on similar artistic concepts and designs. So we applied to have a wall in a show at the gallery where Christina worked. We jumped with both feet in. We went from never creating work together (except that time we tried to make copper jewelry...but story for another time) to committing to a full fledge wall in an exhibition. Just to reiterate, Christina and I were provinces apart, with no intention of future travel. Any work we decided to make would have to either travel by mail or be made separately. So that's exactly what we did, and we pulled it off. Actually, we more than pulled it off- every single piece in that show sold. Every. Single. Piece.
Our second exhibition was made the same way- through snail mail. Not a single piece of that exhibition was made together, but yet it was. So although we have been creating work together for over 3 years, not a single piece of artwork has been created together in the same place. Not until our most recent series: Sandcastles with You at Nightfall.
Sandcastles with you at Nightfall was created in a two parts. The first part happened on a hot summer morning in August. Christina and I were finally in a print studio together since attending Sheridan college almost 8years ago. It was a big deal, we felt like magic was about to happen. We had the whole studio to ourselves and T Swift on the speaker. We also had NO PLAN. Again, we did this thing where we commit ourselves to an exhibition or in this case, studio time, with no plan. So we did what we did for our first exhibition; we jumped with both feet. We went through all the left over screen print colours(you know the ones where someone married all the left over colours that look similar to create a really funky salmon pink- HA MY FAV). We managed to find some we liked. Then we got the silkscreen. The silkscreen had not been used in a bit, thanks covid, so it was mostly bare except this one strip of emulsion that hung on and separated the screen in two. We could work with that. And we did. We experimented; we mixed random colours; we made stencils; we played with transparent ink. We pulled print after print until 3 hours and 2 cups of coffee later we had this compilation of abstract work that was made up of wispy, urgent and expressive marks and marbled colours with gold flecks. It was a success.
Part two happened on a cool September morning where the leaves are still trying to hold onto their green. We got into the studio much later than we wanted and only had one night together. We set ourselves up with a goal of creating a whole ten pieces for our take ten series. We didn't know what direction we were going in, except that we knew we had to do some cutting of the work we previously made. Armed with scissors, 40 pieces of mylar and any drawing mediums we could find in a print studio ( which was mostly crayola crayons and a gold pencil crayon), we started cutting shapes out. We felt like kids again. We were cutting and colouring with crayons. And then once we had enough shapes cut out- we started assembling. We layered the pieces and the shapes until we had these unique little landscapes made of rounded hilly mountains and teal moons. Because we were on such a time restriction, we didn't spend any time thinking. It's like when you're a kid at the beach, you and your best friend making this sandcastle and you're so invested in making the perfect tower of sand before the next wave comes to take it away. We were completely in the moment, so utterly overwhelmed with making art. It was so wonderful to be finally creating work, side by side. As for the the work, well we created work that completely reflects what we were feeling; playful, unexpected and imaginary.