One week ago today my friend Sylvia and I visited the Art Gallery of Ontario to see the Florine Stettheimer show before it closed the next day.
Nothing I could write would top the New York Times' gushing review of the show, which you can find here.
From a less reverential perspective, I thought the pictures were charming, fun, sometimes complex in their composition and wilfully primitive, as if Grandma Moses went to Fifth Avenue. They seemed a window on a world of privilege, vast wealth and character untested by any of life's harder lessons.
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| Shopping frenzy: spring sale at the favourite dress shop. |
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| Florine liked to put her dog in her paintings. |
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| Detail from Florine's self-described masterpiece: herself, her sisters and her mother high above Manhattan. |
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| Detail from self-portrait. |
After we saw everything there was to be seen by Florine, we wandered around the galleries for a while.
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| One of a series of large panels in a room on the second floor. |
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| Vast mural, dots of acrylic paint on black ground, simulating bead work. |
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| Wolves prowled among the post-modern art. |
Two hours of gawking at pictures builds an appetite. Sylvia and I went to the AGO Bistro, which used to be Frank's.
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| My lunch, pasta carbonara; yummy. |
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| Sylvia's Za'atar-Roasted Portobello |
Thanks for reading!
Karen
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