Imagining history

History is a tissue of lies, exclusions and evasions; for every narrative that is documented and recorded there are many others that go unacknowledged.

The faces I’m drawing for my installation at the Burnaby Art Gallery represent the real and imagined former inhabitants of this building. “Fairacres,” as it was first known, was built as a retirement estate by Vancouver realtor Henry Ceperley and his wife Grace in 1910.

Prior to its conversion to the gallery in 1967, the mansion housed four wealthy families, including the Ceperleys (1910-1939), a community of Benedictine monks (1939-1954), a controversial religious cult (1954-1965) and a university fraternity (1965-1966).

As I research my project I’m aware that many stories associated with this building can only be imagined. Best represented are the accounts and images of the wealthy men who lived at Fairacres in the early 1900s. Few records of their wives and children survive and none at all concerning the servants who worked in these households.

The monks are fairly well-documented as a community, but not as individuals. Information about the questionable religious group, The Canadian Temple of the Universal Foundation of More Abundant Life, focuses on their charismatic leader, William Franklin Wolsey (“Archbishop John”). The fraternity boys, who spent only a few months in the house, are mostly undocumented, as well.

Whenever possible, I’m using actual photographic references of the former residents for my drawings. But most of the faces I use will be surrogates–anonymous faces that represent the wives, children, servants and students whose sojourns went unrecorded.

A problematic genre

In his essay, “The Portrait’s Dispersal” Ernst Van Alphen describes contemporary portraiture as “a problematic genre” that represents “the loss of self instead of its consolidation.” The fragile and provisional subjectivity represented within a contemporary portrait cannot (and will not) bestow authority on its subject, as traditional portraiture was thought to do.

These small drawings represent faces that emerge from a process of  material exploration as well as a meditation on the limits of representation. If a face is not based on a particular subject, can it still be a face?

Each 4.25 x 5.5″ watercolour graphite on paper

Drawings of no one

It took a long time of pretending to work in my studio today to remember how to begin.

I’ve come to the realization that when I draw faces I’m not interested in representing a particular face (as portraits are thought to do). These drawings (of no one in particular) are simply about faces and our proclivity for finding and paying attention to them.

Uncertain faces

Until now, the drawings of faces I’ve produced are predicated on known faces. I recently started a series of drawings in which the face results from an exploration of the physical properties and characteristics of the materials used to produce the image: powdered graphite and a brush.