Tuesday, January 04, 2011

January 28th 2011 Art Exhibition John Cadiz Life Stories

John Cadiz Life Stories
Art Exhibition
Friday January 28th to Sunday February 20th 2011
Ideas Incorporated Gallery
1081 Bathurst St.

John can be reached at 416-854-5687 johnmcadiz@gmail.com

"Lively and anarchic, Cadiz's paintings replicate dreamscapes where the real and the unlikely slide together as easily, and tastily, as warm butter and hot milk."   R.M.Vaughan, The Globe and Mail, Saturday January 29th 2011

Limited edition prints 24"X 36" poster
$50












Launching the boat 1989

My father bought an old boat with the intention of repairing and returning it to the sea. After about fifteen years of intermittent labour we realized that it would probably never happen. I decided to launch it for him.

Morning Glory 2008

There's nothing like watching the dawn at sea. On the first day of our cruise I went up on deck with a cup of coffee and Harry to watch the sunrise. A huge bank of cloud lined the horizon. I painted as I remembered it except I included Monica and Leela and referenced the ship's railings from photographs.
Man in the car 2006
$1250 sold

The solitary hike ends just over the hill. But the hiker has to first pass an obstacle; a derelict car which shows signs of human habitation. There is no man in the car. At the first sign of someone approaching ( suggested by the barking dog ) he hides in the bushes to observe.
The Plantation 1998
$1250

My uncle worked in the oilfields of Trinidad. Once when we visited the family the kids ran off to play in the bush and came upon an abandoned oil well marked by a large pool of oil. The oil field is the new plantation. The worker covered in oil had fallen into the pool and turned black.
Venus de Kaboom 2005
$950

This painting shows my sadness and disgust for suicide bombers generally but particularly women suicide bombers who would willingly destroy themselves and others for something I can’t quite understand. The subject is so repellent that I’ve resorted to cartoon humour and misogynist jokes.

Dolly Bissoon 2002

When my family first moved to our new house on the outskirts of Arima, a little girl named Dolly who lived in a tapia hut at the end of the road and probably sent by her family to greet us, arrived in her Sunday best and ensconced herself on our front porch. My mother, outraged at her presumption, immediately sent her away. I wondered how the experience affected Dolly.
Bettina's garten 2000

Set in the backyard of 1006 Ossington Ave., I've tried to show the contrasting personalities of Monica and her sister in law Poonam who occupied a room at the house. Bettina, a German tenant, started a garden in the backyard.
Camping with the Mon 1992

Our first camping experience at Tobermory Provincial Park. A very windy evening with a flapping tarp and campfire smoke blowing in our eyes. My only romantic painting.

Fall 2006
$1450

This work was supposed to be a fairly typical "driving down to Toronto from Up North during the Fall" painting. But then I remembered having day dreams while driving and added an aircraft falling from the sky. It could as easily have been a tornado or some other disaster. But to offset the impending tragedy I added some cartoon black humour.
 

Curtains 2008
$750 sold

I’ve always wanted to do my version of a sunset. This painting represents the end of life with the “lights” shutting down in a final blaze of energy.


Mourning in Arima 1987

An early morning on the front porch. My mother and I would sit quietly drinking coffee or cocoa, watching the dawn break and the first Tobago flight of the day. The dogs, lazy with sleep, would stretch and cuddle. But then my brother died and it was never the same.



The family reunion 2007

I thought I’d have a fantasy reunion, a kind of snapshot with the picture taker trying to get everyone to take a bow at the same time with the usual fooling around. The family would be together one last time when we were all happy. The painting represents us as we were around 1966. Late in September that year the dying started and for me there was no more happiness. The family home in the background is as I think it was at the time.



Putting down Sambo 2007

Our dog Sambo was dying. To avoid the trouble of going to a vet to have him put down, my father decided to do the deed himself but botched it. I watched from the front porch as the drama unfolded. I hated my dad for what he did but looking back realize how deeply it affected him. He loved the dogs.
 
 Invasion of the water buffalo 1998

Before dawn one morning a herd of water buffalo escaped from a nearby breeding farm and crossed the family property. My father for years after claimed that he smelled them before he saw them. The herd was accompanied by a small flock of cattle egrets and harassed by the family dogs.


@#$% Gridlock 2004
$1450

Travelling on a bus to a warehouse job out in the boonies was so depressing that I would sometimes fantasize that if traffic were held up for an execution to take place, jaded commuters would still complain about the gridlock instead of showing any empathy for the condemned.

 
Bertie and Mr. Marine 2004

When I was a child, the builders erecting houses nearby would sometimes allow us kids to play in the mounds of sand on site. The workers weren't always friendly but tolerated us. Cartoon bubbles add to the story.


Shadow 1987

Shadow was the nickname of the taxi driver my mother and my aunt hired to ferry about nine kids back and forth to school. But his taxi was licensed to carry only five passengers so when we passed the local police station some of us would duck so that only five heads would show. I was one who would automatically lower my head and so became intimately acquainted with the dashboard and steering wheel.

Roth Johnson and me 1990

I wanted to do a painting of my friends so before visiting them I decided that I would try to memorize details of the visit to use as reference. Unfortunately, Roth's sister suffered a personal crisis that day which affected the mood of the evening so when I did the painting it carried over into the work.
 
 
 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

The text and paintings are fabulous. I love the way you tell the story of how or why you chose to paint a particular way.