Pixelware :A Sublime Forgery
February 10 - March 12, 2005
Mathieu Bernard-Reymond, Penelope Umbrico, Sze Lin Pang, Sylvia Grace Borda
Pixelware is a collaborative project realized by Dazibao Gallery, Montreal, represented by France Choinière and Marissa Portolese, and Gallery 44, Toronto, represented by Sara Angelucci and Elaine Whittaker.

Pixelware brochure text
J.R. Carpenter

Mathieu Bernard-Reymond — Disparitions

I came and went and came and went and the horizon held its ground, like a recurring dream. I never knew how far I had travelled until after. I doubled back and found faint traces — not of myself, but of where I had been. I came and went and wore away at the scenery. The pathways of each day crisscrossed those of the last. The sky got so big that it couldn’t get any bigger, no matter how far back from it I stood. I came to see not what I saw, but what I thought I remembered. The beach became crowded; it emptied and filled up again. A paragraph of birds scrawled grey sentences on the parchment-pale sand. The birds took fright, took flight, rose up en masse, and turned in an arc in the air, on wings of punctuation. And then they alighted again, landing in their own footprints as if nothing had happened. I came and went, came back again and everything had changed. My own footprints were not where I had left them. The tide went out and out. I walked along the water’s frayed edge. The horizon kept its distance, squinting, razor thin.

Sze Lin Pang, Inscrutable 03 Coffee, Tea or Me?, 2003

Sze Lin Pang — Coffee, Tea or Me

I am always myself and someone else besides. I walk down the street and watch myself walking. On my way to meet you I wonder: When I get there, what will you see?

I stop at a street corner to wait for a light. A woman passes wearing a coat I almost bought, but didn’t. No pockets. I don’t know what to do with my hands. I shift my weight. Why did I wear these shoes? The light changes. I’m in a hurry now, for no real reason. My hair falls all over itself, trying a little too hard. I rush past shop windows. My reflection keeps pace. Towering mannequins look down on me with wooden grace
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At the café, I sit in the window and watch myself waiting. I see through my face, my careful outfit, my thin disguise. Nothing on the menu looks good to me. On the phone you said: "Let’s meet for coffee." "Sure," I said. Even though you know I only drink tea. I rehearse and revise your entrance a dozen times, mentally adjusting my brightness, contrast, hue and saturation. And then there you are — so perfectly put together I don’t see you at first. I quick copy and paste my smile. My reflection in the window does the same.

Sylvia G. Borda — Minimalist Portraits
Luminous bodies move through the sparse infinity of space. We observe, that is our nature. We classify, evaluate and analyze the spectacle of light. Light takes so long. The actual event of our origin eludes us. The visible universe is always out of date. We peer through pinprick peepholes in the night sky, at stars that don’t exist anymore. And we wait and wait for light to come our way from stars too young yet for us to see. Light changes as it travels. It bends in gravity and suffers from fatigue. Look at yourself in the mirror. The image of your face is already older than you are; it has lost time. Your face in the mirror is a fossil of light, deformed by its velocity. We are born. We die. In between, we travel through the universe tethered to relativity. Light whips past us at near infinite speed. Near, but not quite. What happens beyond light? Pure energy. What does not move at all? Utter blackness. Absolute zero is light turning in on itself, infinite immobility. Only thought has the capacity to travel instantly. Unbound by speed or time or gravity, our minds race through the dark universe looking for light.

Penelope Umbrico , Mirrors (From Catalogs) , 2004

Penelope Umbrico — Mirrors (from Catalogues)

Obsessed with the insides of other people’s houses, every time someone new moves onto our street, my mother drags me over.

"Don’t touch anything," she tells me before she rings the bell.
Our new neighbour answers the door with a made-for-TV smile, and leads us through room after perfect room. She has some we don’t have at our house: an office, pantry, and even a solarium, whatever that is. Now she’s in her state-of-the-art kitchen fetching us refreshments. We hear glass on granite, ice, and stainless steal.

We sit on the edge of our seats on a brand new sofa, waiting. My mother shoots me a look: "Don’t get any ideas." She chews on her lip, fingers whatever upholstery is within her reach, and scans the room for photographs, personal touches, clues.

The glass coffee table looks dangerous — just waiting for fingerprints. The bookcases are full of magazines. The fireplace is full of flowers. The throw pillows are too clean, too artfully arranged. In every high-gloss surface I search for escape routes. If I could I’d crawl right through the TV screen, out the bay window, up the flue. I want to scuff the baseboards, send crayon trees shooting up the wainscot, re-arrange the bookcase, and pull out all the drawers. But I won’t risk it. I’m on my best behaviour. My mother still thinks she can impress our new neighbour.

Biographies

Born in France, Mathieu Bernard-Reymond is a photographer currently working and residing in Switzerland. He holds a bachelor’s degree from the Institut d’Études Politiques de Grenoble and has studied in literature and art history. He has also completed a diploma from the Formation Supérieure de l’École des Arts Appliqués de Vevey. In 2003, he received the Prix de la Fondation CCF pour la Photographie (France).

Sylvia Grace Borda is a Vancouver-based artist working in photography and new technology. Borda received a BFA in Photography from the Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design and an MFA at the University of British Columbia. She is also currently pursuing a PhD at South Bank University of London, UK. She is an Associate Researcher and Lecturer in Digital Arts at the University of British Columbia and Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design.

Originally from Singapore, Sze Lin Pang received a BA at Brown University in Modern Culture and Media. She has recently moved to Chicago to pursue an MFA at University of Illinois at Chicago. Pang works in photography, digital arts, and video, as well as in sculpture. She has exhibited in New York, Chicago, London and Barcelona.

Penelope Umbrico, currently living and working in New York, has exhibited internationally for twenty years. Formally trained as a painter at Ontario College of Art, Umbrico received an MFA from the School of Visual Arts in New York. She has taught at the School of Visual Arts, Parsons School of Design, Rhode Island School of Design and is currently the Chair of the Photography department at Bard College.

J. R. Carpenter is a writer and visual artist living in Montreal. She holds a BFA from Concordia University. She has received several grants and fellowships to attend residencies and training programs within Canada and the U.S.A. She won the CBC/QWF Quebec Short Story Competition in 2003 for her story Precipice.