Directors’ Note:
The literal meaning of our title points to the absurd notion of hunting while
being blind, akin to the idiom, “a shot in the dark” — in essence, guessing.
Thematically, Hunting Blind addresses futility and the repeated attempts to
isolate oneself from reality along with the ongoing quest for success and
resulting heroic failure. The journey imagined here lies in the animation of the
objects, from playful use to misuse, where hunting while blind could be seen
as disadvantage, a ‘hunting blind’ is not.2
ACT I SCENE ONE
(Leaving the security of the gallery, you walk
out onto the expansive third floor terrace.
The psychological stage3 is set. It feels like
you have missed something, or you are
in-between events. It’s a bit uncanny. There
are a number of objects on the stage. These
objects are props, things in themselves
as well as the things they refer to. You
are drawn to a large black tower, upstage
center. You are now center stage. You are
filled with anticipation and excitement.)
YOU
(What is this thing?)4
THE TOWER
It is part of a public artwork, almost a
monument, which stands like a sentinel
atop the museum. This black tower is
slightly quirky. It looks like a hunting blind,
a shelter used by hunters to hide from their
prey to give them a tactical advantage.
Maybe it is a club house, or a tree fort for
some exclusive and dangerous fraternity. It
evokes a watchtower and gallows. It is an
ominous, shadowy figure with almost no
surface. It is empty. This thing is strange.
(You are filled with trepidation, but you are still interested. You
speculate about how to get in. But there is no access to the tower,
only one short, protruding plank that looks a bit too risky to grasp.
You decide to try another approach. You are at the edge of the
terrace, upstage left. There are more objects here.)
ACT II SCENE ONE
THE SHIELDS
Five irregularly cut stainless steel figures with polished mirrored surfaces in
the shape of hoods or shields cluster together at the edge of the terrace. The
reflections seem vaguely familiar, but are black and distorted. At times, these
reflections disappear completely and the light is blinding. They are false
fronts.
(So much an extension of their environment, you almost didn’t see
them, but you are glad you do. They are made for you. You walk
behind them. There are seats. You can take your place.
Some other people enter the terrace, downstage right. You feel
somewhat exposed, but it is comfortable here, sitting with a crowd
of like people. The other people hardly notice you behind the
somewhat distorted mirrored-reflection of themselves. There is
safety in resembling your landscape, a form of passing, one must
become skilled at to survive. It’s
likely that they wouldn’t recognize
you even if they saw you. They
move off. You get comfortable
behind the shields and become
completely unaware of what
you can’t see.
With some effort, you
can look out through
the holes. You peek
again at the tower
and see some
things in the
distance.)
ACT III SCENE 1
THE PERCHES
Five large, minimal, black structures with shiny brass T-perches on top,
upstage right. Four objects closely grouped together on the steps and
one alone at the very back edge of the terrace. These black objects
are bigger than you, keeping the T-perches just out of reach. They
glint in the light.
(Peek. You see movement. Those people are now milling
around the tower. You hadn’t noticed them there. Like you,
they try to get in, they can’t. They continue to circle. One of
them is at the perches, upper stage right.)
YOU
(You are getting a stiff neck from all this peeking.)
(Their friend seems very interested in the perches, even
excited. Everyone leaves the tower and returns to the
perches. It is still unclear what these objects are exactly:
parts of something, maybe an un-built tower. They are kind
of comic, like Looney Tunes plunger detonators.)
YOU
(Maybe they can help you get inside the tower?)
(He is still struggling with something. His friends can see him
clearly, but you can’t see past the tower. You wish he were
more visible.)
YOU
(There is a surety in taking a shot at what is completely
visible, utterly exposed. But what if you can’t see?)
(They seem to be watching a performance. Whatever he’s
doing, it seems a bit risky, even disruptive.)
YOU
(Will someone see him? Will he be rewarded or
punished? Will it be beautiful or treacherous? Will
it get him into the tower?)
(No matter, for the moment they seem elated just to be
here. You wonder if they remember you are there. You
glance again at the tower. It is still partially blocking your
view. You could move, leave your place, but you might lose
it.)
YOU
(Your neck is very stiff now, and your bum is sore from the
hard seat. You are starting to feel a bit foolish, sitting here.)
ACT IV SCENE ONE
(The set is quiet. You can hear the city living beyond the
museum’s terrace. The people at the perches seem to have
gone. Maybe they are hiding? Everything looks the same.
You struggle to look past the tower. You see nothing. You
look directly at the tower. Have they gone inside? Did
you miss something? You see nothing. The tower seems
empty.)
YOU
(You are relieved, but disappointed.)
ACT V SCENE ONE
YOU
(Your bum has gone completely numb. Your back aches
and your legs are cramped. You are tired of this now.)
(Nothing is happening. It’s time to go back into the gallery.
You could stop at the perches on your way in. You decide
not to. You are already tired, and stopping would just take
more time. No one else is here anymore, anyway. While
you are going in, you pass some people coming out. Your
desire5 returns.)
End notes
1 Robin Arseneault and Paul Jackson’s Hunting Blind, a semi-permanent collaborative
installation commissioned by the Alberta Foundation for the Arts and the Art Gallery
of Alberta for the AGA’s City of Edmonton’s Terrace.
2 Robin Arseneault and Paul Jackson, Hunting Blind Proposal, May 17, 2010.
3 Robin Arseneault, Artist’s Statement, 2011.
4 Bill Brown, “Thing Theory,” Critical Inquiry 28:1 “Things,” (2001), 1-22.
“Thing Theory” builds on Hegel’s differentiation between objects and things to suggest
that an object’s thingness is in its strangeness, in its alienation, or in “…how it stands
out against the world in which it exists.”(4) He describes “the history in things” as
“the crystallization of the anxieties and aspirations that linger there in the material
object.”(5) Brown’s “story of objects asserting themselves as things, then, is the story
of a changed relation to the human subject and thus the story of how the thing really
names less an object than a particular subject-object relation.”(7)
5 René Girard, Deceit, Desire and the Novel: Self and Other in Literary Structure (1961),
Trans. Yvonne Freccero, (Baltimore/London: John Hopkins University Press, 1976).
Writer Biography
Diana Sherlock is a Calgary-based independent curator, writer
and educator. She co-curated, with Catherine Crowston, the
Alberta Biennial of Contemporary Art 2002 for the Edmonton
Art Gallery and Nickle Arts Museum. In 2003, Sherlock guest
curated Super Modern World of Beauty at The Banff Centre’s
Walter Phillips Gallery. For the independent web-based
project Artificial-Life.net (2006-), she commissioned new
works examining conceptual art practices within the realm
of generative technology. Since 2001, she has also produced
exhibitions with Stride Gallery, Lorch + Seidel Contemporary
Berlin (2010), and for the Medicine Hat’s Esplanade Arts &
Heritage Centre (2012). She publishes regularly in gallery
catalogues and contemporary art journals including Canadian
Art, FUSE, Blackflash, Ceramics Art & Perception and Border
Crossings. Sherlock is a juror for the 2011 RBC Canadian Painting
Competition. She teaches critical theory and professional
practice in the Liberal Studies Department at the Alberta
College of Art & Design in Calgary.
The literal meaning of our title points to the absurd notion of hunting while
being blind, akin to the idiom, “a shot in the dark” — in essence, guessing.
Thematically, Hunting Blind addresses futility and the repeated attempts to
isolate oneself from reality along with the ongoing quest for success and
resulting heroic failure. The journey imagined here lies in the animation of the
objects, from playful use to misuse, where hunting while blind could be seen
as disadvantage, a ‘hunting blind’ is not.2
ACT I SCENE ONE
(Leaving the security of the gallery, you walk
out onto the expansive third floor terrace.
The psychological stage3 is set. It feels like
you have missed something, or you are
in-between events. It’s a bit uncanny. There
are a number of objects on the stage. These
objects are props, things in themselves
as well as the things they refer to. You
are drawn to a large black tower, upstage
center. You are now center stage. You are
filled with anticipation and excitement.)
YOU
(What is this thing?)4
THE TOWER
It is part of a public artwork, almost a
monument, which stands like a sentinel
atop the museum. This black tower is
slightly quirky. It looks like a hunting blind,
a shelter used by hunters to hide from their
prey to give them a tactical advantage.
Maybe it is a club house, or a tree fort for
some exclusive and dangerous fraternity. It
evokes a watchtower and gallows. It is an
ominous, shadowy figure with almost no
surface. It is empty. This thing is strange.
(You are filled with trepidation, but you are still interested. You
speculate about how to get in. But there is no access to the tower,
only one short, protruding plank that looks a bit too risky to grasp.
You decide to try another approach. You are at the edge of the
terrace, upstage left. There are more objects here.)
ACT II SCENE ONE
THE SHIELDS
Five irregularly cut stainless steel figures with polished mirrored surfaces in
the shape of hoods or shields cluster together at the edge of the terrace. The
reflections seem vaguely familiar, but are black and distorted. At times, these
reflections disappear completely and the light is blinding. They are false
fronts.
(So much an extension of their environment, you almost didn’t see
them, but you are glad you do. They are made for you. You walk
behind them. There are seats. You can take your place.
Some other people enter the terrace, downstage right. You feel
somewhat exposed, but it is comfortable here, sitting with a crowd
of like people. The other people hardly notice you behind the
somewhat distorted mirrored-reflection of themselves. There is
safety in resembling your landscape, a form of passing, one must
become skilled at to survive. It’s
likely that they wouldn’t recognize
you even if they saw you. They
move off. You get comfortable
behind the shields and become
completely unaware of what
you can’t see.
With some effort, you
can look out through
the holes. You peek
again at the tower
and see some
things in the
distance.)
ACT III SCENE 1
THE PERCHES
Five large, minimal, black structures with shiny brass T-perches on top,
upstage right. Four objects closely grouped together on the steps and
one alone at the very back edge of the terrace. These black objects
are bigger than you, keeping the T-perches just out of reach. They
glint in the light.
(Peek. You see movement. Those people are now milling
around the tower. You hadn’t noticed them there. Like you,
they try to get in, they can’t. They continue to circle. One of
them is at the perches, upper stage right.)
YOU
(You are getting a stiff neck from all this peeking.)
(Their friend seems very interested in the perches, even
excited. Everyone leaves the tower and returns to the
perches. It is still unclear what these objects are exactly:
parts of something, maybe an un-built tower. They are kind
of comic, like Looney Tunes plunger detonators.)
YOU
(Maybe they can help you get inside the tower?)
(He is still struggling with something. His friends can see him
clearly, but you can’t see past the tower. You wish he were
more visible.)
YOU
(There is a surety in taking a shot at what is completely
visible, utterly exposed. But what if you can’t see?)
(They seem to be watching a performance. Whatever he’s
doing, it seems a bit risky, even disruptive.)
YOU
(Will someone see him? Will he be rewarded or
punished? Will it be beautiful or treacherous? Will
it get him into the tower?)
(No matter, for the moment they seem elated just to be
here. You wonder if they remember you are there. You
glance again at the tower. It is still partially blocking your
view. You could move, leave your place, but you might lose
it.)
YOU
(Your neck is very stiff now, and your bum is sore from the
hard seat. You are starting to feel a bit foolish, sitting here.)
ACT IV SCENE ONE
(The set is quiet. You can hear the city living beyond the
museum’s terrace. The people at the perches seem to have
gone. Maybe they are hiding? Everything looks the same.
You struggle to look past the tower. You see nothing. You
look directly at the tower. Have they gone inside? Did
you miss something? You see nothing. The tower seems
empty.)
YOU
(You are relieved, but disappointed.)
ACT V SCENE ONE
YOU
(Your bum has gone completely numb. Your back aches
and your legs are cramped. You are tired of this now.)
(Nothing is happening. It’s time to go back into the gallery.
You could stop at the perches on your way in. You decide
not to. You are already tired, and stopping would just take
more time. No one else is here anymore, anyway. While
you are going in, you pass some people coming out. Your
desire5 returns.)
End notes
1 Robin Arseneault and Paul Jackson’s Hunting Blind, a semi-permanent collaborative
installation commissioned by the Alberta Foundation for the Arts and the Art Gallery
of Alberta for the AGA’s City of Edmonton’s Terrace.
2 Robin Arseneault and Paul Jackson, Hunting Blind Proposal, May 17, 2010.
3 Robin Arseneault, Artist’s Statement, 2011.
4 Bill Brown, “Thing Theory,” Critical Inquiry 28:1 “Things,” (2001), 1-22.
“Thing Theory” builds on Hegel’s differentiation between objects and things to suggest
that an object’s thingness is in its strangeness, in its alienation, or in “…how it stands
out against the world in which it exists.”(4) He describes “the history in things” as
“the crystallization of the anxieties and aspirations that linger there in the material
object.”(5) Brown’s “story of objects asserting themselves as things, then, is the story
of a changed relation to the human subject and thus the story of how the thing really
names less an object than a particular subject-object relation.”(7)
5 René Girard, Deceit, Desire and the Novel: Self and Other in Literary Structure (1961),
Trans. Yvonne Freccero, (Baltimore/London: John Hopkins University Press, 1976).
Writer Biography
Diana Sherlock is a Calgary-based independent curator, writer
and educator. She co-curated, with Catherine Crowston, the
Alberta Biennial of Contemporary Art 2002 for the Edmonton
Art Gallery and Nickle Arts Museum. In 2003, Sherlock guest
curated Super Modern World of Beauty at The Banff Centre’s
Walter Phillips Gallery. For the independent web-based
project Artificial-Life.net (2006-), she commissioned new
works examining conceptual art practices within the realm
of generative technology. Since 2001, she has also produced
exhibitions with Stride Gallery, Lorch + Seidel Contemporary
Berlin (2010), and for the Medicine Hat’s Esplanade Arts &
Heritage Centre (2012). She publishes regularly in gallery
catalogues and contemporary art journals including Canadian
Art, FUSE, Blackflash, Ceramics Art & Perception and Border
Crossings. Sherlock is a juror for the 2011 RBC Canadian Painting
Competition. She teaches critical theory and professional
practice in the Liberal Studies Department at the Alberta
College of Art & Design in Calgary.
