Features
All Over the Place
Spanish scholar draws on eclectic ideas collected in his travels for new art show
BY DAVID DICENZO
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| Prof. Lee L'Clerc finds inspiration and a form of therapy in painting. Photo by Martin Schwalbe |
Prof. Lee L'Clerc, Languages and Literatures, lives on Toronto Island, but it's not exactly home. Born in Lyon, France , he also likes to spend time in Tobago, Italy and Spain, where his mother was born. L'Clerc, who's an artist as well as a Spanish scholar, says his nomadic existence reminds him of a line from a song by legendary jazz singer Nina Simone: “I don't belong here, I don't belong there.”
It seems only appropriate, then, that his latest art exhibition, running Nov. 25 to Dec. 31 at Lehmann Leskiw Fine Art in Toronto , is called “All Over the Place.”
“One of the reasons the show is called that is because I don't feel like I'm grounded anywhere,” he says. “I feel like I'm from all over the place.”
Whether in his Toronto-based studio or the apartment he rents behind La Fenice opera house in Venice, the city he feels most comfortable in after annual visits for the past 18 years, L'Clerc has devoted a good part of his life to putting his thoughts on canvas. “All Over the Place,” his 16th show since 1988, is a collection of works that feature subjects ranging from falling objects and desert scenes to a plane crash. The latter painting was inspired by a terrifying experience he had last year en route to Tobago, when there was trouble with his plane's landing gear.
The show includes oil-based portraits, landscapes, sculpture and even one unique piece made up of 45 small canvases nailed together.
L'Clerc notes that art dealers today, particularly in North America, tend to group works under a single theme to create a brand that makes it easy to identify the artist. It's a concept he wanted to avoid.
“I was going to call this show ‘Digression' because I wanted to depart from the traditional curatorial format you find in most galleries. I've noticed that there's a shift among certain younger artists to abandon the signature style. I decided I didn't want to have any uniformities. In the work itself, there is no uniformity. There is not a continuous narrative, but there is a concept that links all the paintings, which is to be all over the place.”
Throughout his formal education, L'Clerc was actually quite stationary, completing his BA, MA and PhD at the University of Toronto. He arrived in Canada in the early 1980s after spending seven years travelling with his parents through Latin America, including a stint in Havana, where he attended high school. Encouraged by his parents to study at an English university, he chose to come north.
In January 2000, Guelph was added to his long list of destinations when he was hired as a sessional to teach Spanish grammar. He began a contractually limited appointment as an assistant professor in 2004.
Today L'Clerc's teaching load includes an introductory course on Hispanic literature and a course on Spanish civilization, which allows him to incorporate art into history and literature, as he did with his PhD thesis. His doctoral research focused on the interrelationship between visual imagery and the text in the Latin American novel, including a comparative study of a Japanese novel that deals with the iconography of St. Sebastian as a queer icon.
He is currently writing an article called “Installation, Monument or the Marketing of a Tragedy?” about the work of contemporary Cuban installation artist Kcho and the interplay of language and object, Cuba 's boat people and the making of politically sanctioned art.
L'Clerc was about 18 when he knew he wanted to be painter, but he also understood what a struggle the life of an artist can be, so he decided to also pursue studies in languages and literature. Ultimately, he'd like to develop and teach a university course about the merging of art and literature. He has intertwined his two loves whenever possible, but the actual process of creating something on canvas is what inspires him most.
“It's active — that's what I like, the psychology of the whole thing, of painting, erasing, sitting back to look at what you're doing. It's like an addiction, a need to put ideas on a canvas.”
It's also a form of therapy for L'Clerc. “One thing I've heard in Canada is: ‘Thank God it's Friday.' People look forward to Friday because it's a time to relax. It would be equivalent to the way I approach painting — every time I find the time to paint, that's my Friday.”
L'Clerc admits that painting has interfered with his personal life at times, affecting relationships because, as he puts it: “Creativity doesn't work nine to five. In certain cases, painting can be a curse. You're on your own.”
The worst part of being an artist is the opening day of an exhibition, he says. He likens it to being stripped down and vulnerable, prompting people to point and criticize. But he understands that it's part of the artistic process and a necessity if he wants to show others what he's done.
Although there's a natural element of fear associated with revealing his deepest thoughts, L'Clerc also exudes a sense of pride in his work, especially with this latest show. “It's something we can all relate to. In these days of globalization, we're always moving from place to place.”