People watching is so fresh for me in my repatriation from Dubai — especially in Vancouver’s quirky cultural pockets. For the last two years in sterile Dubai there has been; no 40 somethings at the skateboard park, no men pushing prams, no pets, no lesbians kissing on the bench, no 19-24 year old demographic, no elderly walking to the grocery stores. No overgrown lush greenery, or cool breezes in the shade of the trees. No Richmond ditches, no swamps, no frogs.
Dubai has no dog culture. (The very few pets are seen getting a walk by the Filipino nannies.) Enjoying the dog humor in Pixar’s “Up” at a Dubai movie theatre felt odd. But Dubai is a city that has no walkways, or sense of pedestrian traffic. In Vancouver you could enjoy only driving on the weekend — to Whistler.
I can enjoy wearing my heels on Robson Street — but in trendy Yaletown — my style better be one up on those highly groomed Pomeranians at the Cafés. The middle class dog culture on Commercial Drive doesn’t compare. (Children actually seem to rate higher on the class system.) I am enjoying my culture shock coming back to something familiar, but at the same time feeling out of place.
I trade my heels for rubber boots as we dog-sit my brother’s Cairn terrier. We watch young families throw dog toys at Trout Lake’s shallow end. Children wearing Crocs and socks giggle, making their innocent mistakes in dog obedience with no judgment from the adults. “Dog humor is so much nicer than people humor.” says a passerby.
My son finds more interest in the swamp today. He has been asking for nets since we swam in the Arabian Gulf. As he peers in the sludginess, he is excited about tadpoles that could have featured in X-files. The little dogs cool off prancing in the yucky marshy bog of muck my 6-year-old considers Heaven.
“Mom! Look a frog!!” he says to me.
I leave the safe gravel and climb down onto muddy bank. A frog patiently looks at us from the surface.
“Can we catch it?!!” My son is so excited, I can’t help but try.
I step on one log in my tall waterproof rubber boots and try to reach the frog. I step across on another log, but it is not secure, it’s floating. I step back and the frog skims the very surface towards us. Closer, but still out of reach. My sons and I are quiet, focused, a still life. I must help them see their very first frog.
The frog sits calmly infront of us. We persevere. I can see his whole slimy green warty body in the clear water. Beside him is some peat moss. PERFECT! I think. Slowly, quietly I step over him onto the peat moss that immediately gives way — and PLOP!!! I am chest deep in absolutely cold stinky Yuckiness! Dis*gust*ing, Aagck! I realize quickly there is no help coming and we laugh our heads off at Mom in the muck. “It’s ok Mom. We’re not going anywhere special today.” says my four year old.
I get over myself as quickly as possible and give my son my wet muddy phone from my pocket before I climb out of the reeds.
Walmart Fishing Nets 18.99
Rubber Boots 9.99
Catching a Frog – Priceless.







Abu Dhabi Art Fair
November 25th, 2009The Guggenheim reality becomes closer as they curate a selection of work on display at Emirates Palace. The outreach programs of lectures and workshops are evident. The Abu Dhabi Artfair displayed Hirst, Warhol, Picasso, Cezanne, but my favorite artist Safwan Dahoul’s work was an inspiration at Ayyam Gallery’s booth. The Beirut/ Damascus/ Dubai gallery produced a beautiful retrospective book of his work.
“For over twenty years, Syrian artist Safwan Dahoul has frequently used just a single word to title his paintings: ‘Dream.’…” Ayyam Gallery
“In May 2008, Safwan lost Nawar, his college sweetheart and wife of 20 years to cancer… In the fall of 2008, Safwan exhibited these eight paintings at Ayyam Gallery… as a memorial honoring the life of Nawar.”
We discuss the iconographic style and the gallerist tells me how people ask where is the male in the paintings? His form represented by the chair containing/comforting the female.
“Safwan originally from Hawa, travels to Belgium in 1990 and is engrossed in the works of Flemish masters Bosch (1453-1516) and Bruegal the Elder (1525-69) exploring universal themes. He never abandoned his roots… his palette would become muted as the Levantine landscape that surrounded him, while his figures would take on the stylized attributes of the Egyptian pharaohs and Assyrian warriors.”
Safwan Dahoul Ayyam Gallery
Hauntingly beautiful, I find his work romantic and powerful, sincere. Executed beautifully with precision and care, the palette transforms me to another space I believe is real. I was thankful Myriam made time to speak with me about this profound artist who was next to the British Ice Cube Booth.
Safwan connected with my heart, was more evocative to me than the cold work of BritBrat Damien Hirst
“I can’t wait to get into a position to make really bad art and get away with it. At the moment if I did certain things people would look at it, consider it and then say ‘f off’. But after a while you can get away with things.” Quoted on Wikipedia.
Damien Hirst Butterflies
“Hirst explores the uncertainty at the core of human experience; love, life, death, loyalty and betrayal through unexpected and unconventional media.” -WhiteCube His Butterfly paintings (taking the wings of tropical butterflies) and his work using animals does not amuse animal-right activists.
So cold compared to Safwan, I enjoy being influenced by the Middle Eastern art, and bring this emotion to my work. “Wouldn’t the world be a better place if people would wear their halos instead of their masks?” – Safwan. The identity of the artist is so important to the work. The collector, interested in how each artist chooses to express themselves.
Tags: KAREN LORENA PARKER BLOG
Posted in Karen Lorena Parker's personal art blog, BremerPark.com, Personal comments | No Comments »