Since I grew up as an only child until the age of eight, this often left me to my own devices in terms of entertainment. In the years that I waited patiently for my parents to conjure up a playmate for me, I developed a vivid imagination, and quite enjoyed retreating into my made-up world filled with my own cast of invented characters and stories. Frankly I've never really been able to stop this habit, and as an adult I remain someone who is very easily swept up by narratives and stories, which is why I suspect I am so drawn to the work of Kristi Malakoff.

While it certainly doesn't hurt, you don't have to be a hard-core day-dreamer to have appreciated Malakoff's recent exhibition The Circus and the Wishing Well, which just closed at the Southern Alberta Art Gallery in Lethbridge. The expansive body of work exhibited here struck a fine balance between saccharine nostalgia and darker impulses, and was so eclectic that there truly seemed to be something for everyone. From a tower that references an old Islamic mosaic style constructed from fruit loops, to the teensy paper scenes created entirely out of stamps from the German Democratic Republic. Malakoff's work draws unexpected materials and subject matter together, layering her ideas, and reveling in the complexities created by these dueling forces.

The artist believes that duality is the reality of the world around us, and finds inspiration for her art practice in this: "An idea/object/concept usually contains its 'opposite'. Many people are quite absolute in their thinking, and try to keep all their categories separate. I can understand the need to do this, as the world can be pretty overwhelming. Unfortunately/fortunately, the world is much, much more complicated and interconnected than this." The Circus and the Wishing Well juxtaposes sunny narratives such as "The End of the Rainbow," a large scale scene of fantastical creatures comprised from thousands of pictures of flowers, with those of considerably more menace exemplified in "Resting Swarm."

"Resting Swarm" is constructed from 21,000 pictures of bees, painstakingly cut out and installed in a corner near the entrance of the gallery. Despite being made of paper, the cumulative effect of all 21,000 bees arranged in the corner is quite life-like, and according to gallery staff actually frightens those suffering from deadly bee sting allergies.

As one could easily surmise from such a methodically executed and labour-intensive process, the materials Malakoff uses to make her work are of central importance. Malakoff explains that while it is important to her for the work to look good, the choice of materials is based upon a conceptual approach. Often each material carries with it a private meaning for the artist. While the aptly named "Untitled (Fruit Loop Tower)" is at once an exploration of Islamic design elements and a formalist experiment to see how the materials would respond to being used this way, the popular cereal embodies a personal contradiction for the artist: "It was my favorite cereal as a child, which I was never allowed to eat except on my birthday. As an adult, I am horrified that somebody actually markets it as a food product. They don't ever go bad, and even the mice won't eat them."

In a similar vein, the artist explores her love/hate relationship with the glitz, glam, and seediness of Las Vegas with her version of the sign from the Stardust Casino. "Stardust" is lovingly re-created from the Cold-War era version of the famed sign with tissue paper, combining a "little-girl craft" aesthetic with the hedonistic mythology of Vegas. The use of the iconic Stardust sign, which became a symbol of Las Vegas, creates a work that is not easily categorized as either entirely positive, or completely negative.

Enamoured with "movie magic", Malakoff endows each of her installations with all the trappings of a stage set. This is a very deliberate decision on the part of the artist who explains: "I like the feeling of knowing something is fake, but yet letting myself get caught up in the experience anyhow." Well you and I both, Kristi. While I know it's just part of my own make-believe world, most days given the choice I would probably run away with the circus. But of course I live in the real world - filled with bills, deadlines, and obligations. All of which combines to make the world Malakoff constructs with her artwork even more alluring. With the help of your imagination, this is a world where fantasy comes to life - if only for a little while.

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The Circus and the Wishing Well ran from June 27 to September 13, 2009.
All images are courtesy of the artist.