Demented cats,
demon dogs and zombie toddlers
by PAUL GESSELL
ART AND THE CITY
Ottawa Citizen
May 11, 2006
Arts Section F1 - Review
Dana Holst is one of the scariest figurative artists in Canada today.
Anyone who hates kids and dogs can’t be all bad, according to the late actor W.C. Fields.
Well, we know for certain what Edmonton artist Dana Holst thinks of kids. She has built a national reputation around several series of paintings of demented children. Holst’s brood include beady-eyed babies, zombie toddlers and bratty little ballerinas.
Brandy and Goober don't look like the type of cats you'd want to leave alone
in a room with a baby.
Now, Holst has aimed her
poisoned brush at homeless dogs and cats she found within the confines of
the Edmonton Humane Society. Those who don’t know Holst’s work will probably
wonder why such seemingly cutesy-poo paintings of puppies and kittens are
currently on the walls of Galerie St. Laurent-Hill in the Byward Market.
But look more closely at these orphaned animals seemingly floating on backgrounds of solid black or pastels. The animals are, after careful scrutiny, not all adorable and cuddly. Some look ready to pounce. Some are hiding secrets. Some look suspiciously neurotic. One cat brazenly bares its claws. Two bunnies look positively possessed.
I wouldn’t, for instance, leave the cats in Brandy and Goober alone in a room with a baby. And as for Lucky, the big, black dog: He seems to be daring you to pick up that red ball in front of him for a game of fetch. But watch out, Lucky’s motives are unclear.
It is, of course, possible to be overly influenced by Holst’s mischievous past and read more into these paintings than is really there. And, truth be told, Holst is a dog lover and maintains she loves dogs more than humans. Nevertheless, whether capturing pets or humans, Holst is one of the scariest figurative artists in Canada today.
Holst was inspired to do this series of work, called Pounding, after visiting the Edmonton Humane Society shelter in 2001 to adopt a mixed-breed pooch named Oscar. Following that visit, Holst writes on her website, she was “haunted by the emotional distress experienced by the animals and the shades of human error responsible.”
Beloved pets have long been a subject in art. During the 19th century especially, pet owners loved to put a frilly collar on Fido and immortalize him on canvas. Holst’s paintings, including some miniatures on antique ivory piano keys, reference those affectionate portraits. But she adds an extra layer to take into account that these are pets of the abandoned and abused variety. These are, she writes, pets with a “troubled past.” Hence, these are also pets with a “pounding” heart.
Pounding, which continues until May 24, holds a mirror in front of what Holst calls “our throwaway society.” In the end, Pounding is more provocative and disturbing than Holst’s past rooms full of macabre, evil-intentioned children.