Port de Grave Peddler

 


Port de Grave Peddler, oil on canvas, 38" x 41", Steven Rhude


"It's not what you look at that matters, it's what you see." 

Henry David Thoreau


Making subject matter is a preoccupation with painters that value narrative. However, narrative is not always so willing or apparent a partner to the painter until well after the fact; that is, well after a visual encounter may have taken place and time has lapsed. The painter relies on memory, notes, drawings, etc., to re kindle the experience, but eventually it is the unpacking of a scene by the subconscious and the recurrence of its characteristics that evolve to the point where a commitment to canvas is made, and a painting is eventually executed. 

I'm particularly fond of the fishing community of Port de Grave, Newfoundland. It's one of those places that seems to transport me to a particular crossroads where I tend to operate. It's that strange twilight between the tangible world I belong to and that painted world of creation. The peddler, or cyclist, has reoccurred  in my paintings over the years and Port de Grave is the latest installment. 

 My dreams from childhood to adulthood have been traversed with images of a cyclist, and it is fair to say it is no stranger to art. Cycling was also a subject that mattered greatly to Canadian artist Greg Curnoe who painted his ten speed several times and even made self portraits in his cycling gear. They are some of the most unique images in Canadian art. Mainstream cinema has over the years certainly used the bicycle as a potent symbol of opportunity and exploration as well. And in class driven Britain, the very first episode (1960) of Coronation Street ends with Ken Barlow snobbishly pondering his working class father and brother as they patch a bicycle tire in front of the living room fireplace with Susan his date assisting. 

The world has changed since 1960 and the cultural explosion of cycling is now in top gear, and is a powerful icon of community and independence. I'm not finished with bicycles and I doubt they're finished with me. My "peddler" or cyclist, is not only a subject - but something in which the bike is both a literal and metaphorical means of exploration. 

Steven Rhude, Wolfville, NS


              

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Passing through Dildo and toponyms to remember

Image
The place name "Dildo" is attested in this area since at least 1711, though how this came to be is unknown. The origin of the word "dildo" itself is obscure. It was once used to reference a phallus-shaped pin stuck in the edging of a row boat to act as a pivot for the oar (also known as a "thole pin" or "dole pin.") [1] Passing Through Dildo, oil on canvas, 35"x 60", Steven Rhude, Emma Butler Gallery The Rock isn't just known for its colourful buildings and people. Newfoundland place names have inspired some of the most lively discussions over the centuries and, in many instances avoided sanitising by a 1904 Nomenclature Board, that according to Gordon Hancock (faculty member at Memorial University and a member of the Advisory Committee on Toponymic Research) was formed to eliminate postal code chaos and what at the time was considered to be "local embarassment that resulted from duplicate or unfortunate toponyms".
Read more

The Saving of Everett Lewis

Image
“One believes with the heart and so is justified, and one confesses with the mouth and so is saved” (St. Paul, Rom. 10:10). On October 23rd, 2018 I met and interviewed Reverend Stephen Wade in Paradise, Nova Scotia. In 1978, New Years Eve day, Reverend Wade met and provided spiritual consolation hours before Everett Lewis was murdered. Port Lorne, Nova Scotia, 2013 - a power outage owing to a winter storm. He went out to his garage to start up his generator which was in need of fuel. The power was out and emergency sirens could be heard through out the region. It was one of those winter nights.  I'm reminded of the power of gasoline, my own can stored in a shed ... pull back the plastic lock to release the cap into motion and then turn the cap counter clockwise to expose the flammable agent... did it a thousand times. The odour staining my nostrils, as I eventually fill my lawn mower gas tank to cut my grass and maintain a common, and collective suburban exercise. An im
Read more

What really happened in Marshalltown?

Image
"In 1851 including idiots and imbiciles, there was one insane person for every 593 of the population; in 1861 this ratio had risen to one in 504; while in 1871 there was no less than one to 309." He further noted that "the advance of the population was at 40 percent, while the number of those with unsound mind increased 169 percent in the same period."  - Dr. DeWolfe, Report of the inspector of Humane Institutions April1, 1955 to March 31, 1956, Province of Nova Scotia Poor Farm, oil on canvas, 60" x 128", Steven Rhude      This time of year dodging the weather is an art form in itself - the two hour journey from Wolfville to Marshalltown on a two lane highway must be timed accordingly and approached with caution. Winds from the north mountain can easily buffet a car as one contemplates their destination. On other occasions, engulfed in white outs, I've turned back; "keep your eye on the road mister." That said, driving through
Read more