Shotgun-Review.ca: Making Always War

Making Always War at Stride Gallery

by Carly Slade

Walking into Stride Gallery I was suddenly silenced by a large pillar that stoically filled my field of vision and cast a large ominous shadow on the floor. Making Always War is an installation by internationally renowned multidisciplinary artist Rebecca Belmore. The installation documents a performance she did during a residency at the University of British Columbia in March 2008. As I crept past the pillar it began to take on a tombstone-like feel. The pillar is not actually a tombstone, but several army shirts wrapped around a large block of wood with obvious intention. The shirts are held in place with nails that have aged and rusted. At the far end of the room, suspended in mid-air is a small screen with the video documentation of the performance projected onto it.

Rebecca Belmore, Making Always War at Stride Gallery, 2009.

The pillar was slightly taller than me and about my width, but its visual weight filled the room. My silence was suddenly broken by the sound of a drum beat soon followed by aboriginal pow-wow singing coming from the video projection at the far end of the room. The video begins with Belmore and a partner unloading supplies from the back of a small red truck in a park area on campus. Belmore first empties a bag of sand onto a shallow concrete base which she carefully smooths and levels. Next she pours out a bag of nails into 2 piles and casually tosses a hammer between them. It feels almost like she is just off to another day at work, as though this act is simply one of many. The fact that she doesn't ever acknowledge the audience, and travels to and from the site in the truck leads me feel like it was just luck that I happened to witness the event.

Rebecca Belmore, Making Always War at Stride Gallery, 2009.

The music blares out of the open truck doors as she methodically preps her work space. The performance began in the last few minutes of dusk and soon the only thing left illuminating the scene are the headlights from the truck. Belmore and her partner unload a large block of wood from the back of the truck , approximately the size of a coffin. I realized that this block was the same one I had skirted around to reach the screen. Next she takes 6 neatly-folded camouflage army shirts from the truck and lays them out, 3 on each side, as thought they were pallbearers and the wood was a coffin. In a frenzy, Belmore begins to tear the shirts open and methodically wrap them around the wood. There is a tension between her deliberate shirt placement and haphazard hammering. After she is satisfied with her completed task of wrapping the block, Belmore heads back to the truck for a sip of beer and to enlist her partner's help to stand the pillar on the concrete base. After one last inspection, Belmore hops in the truck and drives menacingly close to the beam before quickly reversing and peeling away.

Rebecca Belmore, Making Always War at Stride Gallery, 2009.

The audience of the performance, as well as those who see the installation at Stride, are left to gaze upon an eerie memorial of what they have witnessed. The seemingly casual manner with which Belmore undertook her performance mirrors our desensitization to war. We are bombarded everyday with images of war, and have been so saturated with them that they no longer occupy our conscious minds. We need a piece such as this one to remind us of what is happening globally, and drive home the reality of war with every nail hammered into place.

--
Carly Slade is a 4th year Ceramics major currently attending the Alberta College of Art and Design. She is interested in critical writing and discourse on contemporary art, and is working with Shotgun-Review.ca as part of her practicum class.

Posted March 25, 2009 7:39 PM (659 words)

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	Making Always War at Stride Gallery by Carly Slade Walking into Stride Gallery I was suddenly silenced by a large pillar that stoically filled my field of vision and cast a large ominous shadow on the floor. Making Always War is an installation by internationally renowned multidisciplinary artist Rebecca Belmore. The installation documents a performance she did during a residency at the University of British Columbia in March 2008. As I crept past the pillar it began to take on a tombstone-like feel. The pillar is not actually a tombstone, but several army shirts wrapped around a large block of wood with obvious intention. The shirts are held in place with nails that have aged and rusted. At the far end of the room, suspended in mid-air is a small screen with the video documentation of the performance projected onto it. Rebecca Belmore, Making Always War at Stride Gallery, 2009. The pillar was slightly taller than me and about my width, but its visual weight filled the room. My silence was suddenly broken by the sound of a drum beat soon followed by aboriginal pow-wow singing coming from the video projection at the far end of the room. The video begins with Belmore and a partner unloading supplies from the back of a small red truck in a park area on campus. Belmore first empties a bag of sand onto a shallow concrete base which she carefully smooths and levels. Next she pours out a bag of nails into 2 piles and casually tosses a hammer between them. It feels almost like she is just off to another day at work, as though this act is simply one of many. The fact that she doesn't ever acknowledge the audience, and travels to and from the site in the truck leads me feel like it was just luck that I happened to witness the event. Rebecca Belmore, Making Always War at Stride Gallery, 2009. The music blares out of the open truck doors as she methodically preps her work space. The performance began in the last few minutes of dusk and soon the only thing left illuminating the scene are the headlights from the truck. Belmore and her partner unload a large block of wood from the back of the truck , approximately the size of a coffin. I realized that this block was the same one I had skirted around to reach the screen. Next she takes 6 neatly-folded camouflage army shirts from the truck and lays them out, 3 on each side, as thought they were pallbearers and the wood was a coffin. In a frenzy, Belmore begins to tear the shirts open and methodically wrap them around the wood. There is a tension between her deliberate shirt placement and haphazard hammering. After she is satisfied with her completed task of wrapping the block, Belmore heads back to the truck for a sip of beer and to enlist her partner's help to stand the pillar on the concrete base. After one last inspection, Belmore hops in the truck and drives menacingly close to the beam before quickly reversing and peeling away. Rebecca Belmore, Making Always War at Stride Gallery, 2009. The audience of the performance, as well as those who see the installation at Stride, are left to gaze upon an eerie memorial of what they have witnessed. The seemingly casual manner with which Belmore undertook her performance mirrors our desensitization to war. We are bombarded everyday with images of war, and have been so saturated with them that they no longer occupy our conscious minds. We need a piece such as this one to remind us of what is happening globally, and drive home the reality of war with every nail hammered into place. -- Carly Slade is a 4th year Ceramics major currently attending the Alberta College of Art and Design. She is interested in critical writing and discourse on contemporary art, and is working with Shotgun-Review.ca as part of her practicum class. Posted March 25, 2009 7:39 PM (659 words) « The Puppet Collective \| Home \| Edward Burtynsky: The Residual Landscapes »		Comments Post a comment Name: Email: Comments: (you may use HTML tags for style)