Myth, memory, and motion: KAC’s first Gaze and Gather

As a contributor to the Kelowna Arts Council’s blog, I have the unique opportunity to engage attentively with the Okanagan’s local arts scene and the artists who bring it to life. Naturally, I was thrilled to be invited to KAC’s Gaze and Gather event on January 30th, held at the Bricks and Mortar creative space. The event featured works by KAC members Barbara Bell and Keri Andreas, both of whom were on hand to meet and mingle with patrons. The first of what promises to be a monthly event, January’s Gaze and Gather had a buzz of curious excitement.

The entrance to the Gaze and Gather room at Bricks and Mortar.

Being sensitive to new places and people, I was alert upon entering but was quickly put at ease. I was greeted at the entrance by Bricks and Mortar’s owner, Carla Bond-Fisher, and KAC president Robyn Santamaria. Both were quick to say hello and converse with me about the space, the plans for future KAC events, and the artists featured. After my introduction, Carla and Robyn ushered me to the display area. The room was small in a comforting way, feeling more cozy than claustrophobic. The lighting allowed viewers to take in the detail of the artwork but felt warm and not offensively bright. The patrons were enthusiastic but respectful, their quiet observations and friendly exchanges with the artists providing a gentle hum that gave the event a lively buzz without being abrasive.

Meeting with Barbara and discussing her art style.

I first met Barbara, who gave me a brief description of her creative process and art style, inviting me to explore her work. Her abstract style featured blends of colors that stirred memories in me. Her greens and yellows reminded me of long walks through lush, wooded areas like Mission Creek and Scenic Canyon, while her shades of blue and grey invoked a Pacific coastal aura of ethereal fog and rainy skies. Her paintings were unexpectedly compelling, each one holding me in its space for a little while. For the first time in my life, I understood the concept of abstract art: Its vagueness allows individuals to interpret the piece through their own experience, creating a wholly unique perspective for each person that interacts with it.

Moving on to Keri’s side of the room, I felt a different energy, one of vibrant colors and familiar scenes. Immediately I was taken in by images that I knew intimately from my upbringing. Keri’s paintings of grain elevators took me back to my childhood home on the prairies, where they stood as monoliths above their communities, monuments to the farming spirit of the region. But her elevators weren’t the same: they were colorful and vibrant, transcending the faded, mundane nature of their real-life counterparts. They still looked like the community stalwarts I was familiar with, but infused with a reverence that made them feel mythical, like a treasured relic of a time and place long forgotten. When I spoke with Keri, she told me that they were “an homage” to her mother, who had grown up on the prairies. Later, I wondered if the nostalgic, almost mythical quality of her elevators came from her mother’s stories, like inherited memories, and I’m eager to discuss this with Keri in the future.

Keri poses with her work.

Next, I took in Keri’s other featured works, her hockey paintings. Despite being still images, many gave the impression of rhythm and movement as though the players were ready to breeze off the canvas and into the room. Others benefited from Keri’s mythical style, blending the game’s modern speed and power with its historical roots. Keri told me that her scenes were based on real life images from hockey games but left vague enough that specific team logos and players weren’t explicitly identified. As Keri’s website states, “I’ve purposely painted these scenes without any recognizable teams or logos, stripping away the politics, rivalries, and baggage that often overshadow the beauty of the sport.”

Keri’s visions of the game have a rawness that allows viewers to appreciate the subtle beauty in the sport: the motion, poise, and grace of each movement on the ice. And though they intentionally leave out certain details, I got a feeling of satisfaction from recognizing the specific players, teams and moments that had inspired some of the pieces. Just standing in front of Keri’s work conjured faint sounds in my head of blades carving the ice, sticks clattering together, referee whistles, and even an old pipe organ.

For someone with sensory issues, Gaze and Gather left me feeling calm, welcomed, and excited for future events. The space was small enough to comfortably take in the event, but large enough to move comfortably, and the lighting was warm and accommodating. The hosts of the event were welcoming, the artists approachable, and the patrons were excited but poised. Thus, I was able to lower my guard and appreciate the artists and their work.

Barbara and Keri’s paintings were unique enough to stand on their own, but also complemented each other well, with Barbara’s calm moods contrasting beautifully with Keri’s colorful vibrance. I’m looking forward to connecting further with both artists, and I’m excited to meet new creative minds and explore their work at the next Gaze and Gather. Events like this showcase the inspiring and welcoming nature of the Okanagan’s arts community, and I can’t wait to experience it all again.