When I met Fee, he was pretty much exclusively a photographer. He specialized in event photography, with a distinct preference for the dark and weird. We either met at Brides of March (a bridal-themed pub crawl over the Ides of March. Everyone wears a wedding dress) or at Lunacy Cabaret (a monthly Vaudeville Circus show I danced in for a while). So there's history there.
At some point in the recent past few years, Fee all but completely lost interest in photography. He kept up with what he calls his 'Boredom Series' using his iPhone to collect texturized shots he'd then rearrange into abstract artwork, but his interest was almost completely shifted to an entirely different focus.
Assemblage. Fee's father had, among other technological interests, a shortwave radio station. Though Fee lacked direct interest in learning the exact sciences and mechanics of his father's work, he had an appreciation for the beauty of the parts.
As the years passed, he saw technology come and go, developing and changing rapidly. The profound sadness of losing some of these pieces forever plagued him as much as the knowledge that they would just be more landfill. More human waste to ruin the environment we live in.
So he began putting parts together. Sometimes abstractly, sometimes arranging them to be representational, as I will show with future posts this week and next as the show continues. Each and every one of them has a story. A story of personal history, as well as a story about the parts themselves. Encased in resin after assembled, they look polished and shine brightly. They also have a perfectly preserved effect, like an ancient mosquito might have in amber.
I don't know the specifics behind this piece, but that it's so stunning and I can't believe it hasn't found a buyer yet. Kind of shocking to me. At least that means I get the opportunity to show it again.
Anyways. Always so much more to say, but also always so much more to get done in a day. Signing off for now, but as ever, if you're in Toronto, come say hi at 222 Spadina in the concourse. We are more than happy to accept tips, split evenly between me (the curator) and the current artist.