by Denise Holland

Puzzled, speechless, searching for meaning: Lara Favaretto’s work leaves us feeling groundless and grasping for hints. The need to find the artists’ meaning is often the primary agenda of visitors as they walk through the doors of the Wing Sang Building. At some museums, visitors find comfort with large explanatory signs, brochures or audio recordings that describe what the artists envisioned and how the work was created. These tools deliver meaning, albeit typically of a few limited perspectives.

Visitors to Favaretto’s presentation at the Rennie Collection do not have access to these props. Instead, we are encouraged to think, discuss and share our thoughts about the artworks during a one hour tour guided by an exhibition docent. All perspectives are valid and essential to provide a more complete view of the world. Suspending meaning entirely is also avidly encouraged.

Favaretto’s work provides us with an ideal opportunity to disrupt our thinking and revel in the temporary, magical suspension of meaning. She expertly plays with this tension by presenting us with a glimpse of the familiar in an obscure way–our imaginations can’t help but take the bait.

Take Lost & Found (1998) for example: a simple forlorn suitcase that sits quietly on the floor. At first glance, we may write-off the object. However, when recalling that we are in an art space, we make the connection of how unusual the piece seems in this setting. The work is part of a series, in which Favaretto purchases old forgotten suitcases from flea markets, auctions or similar sales of unwanted objects. She sorts through the items in the case, takes some out, leaves some items in or adds more at her discretion. She then padlocks the case and throws away the key.

The mystery inside the suitcase is too much for our imaginations to bear. Our brains light up thinking of possibilities: What is inside? Who left the suitcase behind? Are the keys truly gone? Doesn’t anyone know what is in there? This simple act of concealment has allowed the work, expressed through this seemingly banal object, to linger much longer in our minds.

To add further intrigue to Lost & Found, the gallery cleaning staff has been instructed by Favaretto to move the suitcase anywhere they would like within the space. When placed close to another work, the conversation expands to consider the pieces together and the dialog between them. Favaretto’s work seems to unfold long after she has finished her installations.

Although born after the arte povera movement, Favaretto has absorbed some of its cheek. The movement started in the early 1960s in Turin, Italy, where Favaretto now lives and works, as a general opposition to American Minimalism and Scientific rationalism. Arte povera artists “…conjured a world of myth whose mysteries couldn’t be easily explained. Or they presented absurd, jarring and comical juxtapositions, often of the new and the old, or the highly processed and pre-industrial.”* This whimsically dark style is evident in Favaretto’s work.

An artist linked to the root of arte povera, Piero Manzoni also included “unknown contents” in his work titled Artist’s Shit (1961). While living in Milan, he produced 90 cans, each individually numbered. Curator Sophie Howarth states that “…the cans of Artist’s Shit have become the most notorious, in part because of a lingering uncertainty about whether they do indeed contain Manzoni’s faeces. At times when Manzoni’s reputation has seen the market value of these works increase, such uncertainties have imbued them with an additional level of irony.”** As with Favaretto’s suitcase, the art of concealment plays impishly with our minds, allowing the mystery to linger.

In 225 (2014) Favaretto also creates mystery by revealing only hints of an image concealed behind brightly coloured fuchsia yarn. Visitors often see a central figure wearing a robe flanked by two other figures in the found painting beneath the yarn. Some even see an animated airplane face. No one is wrong because no one really knows what is behind the string except for Favaretto. Her penchant for keeping us guessing holds us in a magical spell and plays with our imagination. Our brains are in limbo; we search for meaning but it is elusive and out of grasp.

In Coppie Semplici / Simple Couples (2009) names of couples such as “Harold & Maude” and “Bobby & Laura” are completely concealed from view. Hidden within the control boxes of the car wash brushes, only the staff glimpse the names of each pair when they turn the exhibit on. Favaretto doesn’t display these names openly for visitors to see. Is she counting on the exhibit guides to spread the secret of the names, allowing visitors an insider’s view of the work? Does knowing the names of the couples expand or limit the meaning of the work?

Concealment adds mystery and allows us to linger, ponder and consider the unknown. We rely on what our primary senses detect but the art of concealment challenges us to imagine the energy of the object beneath. Largely known for their large-scale temporary projects, artists Christo and Jean-Claude have spent their lifetimes using techniques of concealment wrapping buildings, fences and walls on a grand scale. An earlier series of works created from 1958-1969, Packages, strongly exemplifies the mystery of concealment. Fabric covers everyday objects and is frantically bound to create a multitude of sectional planes across the surface of the package. The simple twine and burlap materials anchor us in the familiar while the context and shapes hold our attention in mysterious ways.***

We may walk out of the Favaretto exhibit with more questions than answers; that is the show’s true success. Favaretto’s works confound our programmed thinking and allow us the time to revel in suspended meaning long after having walked out the doors and back into our lives. The work is not so much shocking as it is a slow, chilling realization that our minds are seeing familiar objects, often in a partially obscured way, that stops our brains dead in their tracks–even if just for a moment. Revel in that moment. They don’t come along often enough in our busy world.

* The Art Story Foundation. Arte Povera. Web.
** Howarth, Sophie. Artist’s Shit, Piero Manzoni. 2000. Tate. Web.
*** Blackbourn, Adam Thomas. Packages. 2011. Christo and Jean-Claude. Web.