​A selection of more traditional drawings and paintings makes up the balance of this one-woman show. Pivotal for the artist is an acrylic painting entitled Self-Portrait With Personal Imagery. It combines painterly elements with stencils and gestural line elements. In this piece, created a year ago, for the first time, Mary Lou tells me, buildings make an appearance, in this case in the form of fenestrated blocks of colour in the background. Mary Lou has a degree in architecture. No surprise, then, that she now uses Mylar in an inventive way and has incorporated built structures into her work.

​At architecture school, life drawing was a requisite course, which, ironically, Mary Lou did not enjoy. Why draw people, she thought, even though she understood that humans populate architectural spaces. Perhaps as a counter to the exactitude of drafting, I suggest. Indeed, today Mary Lou loves life drawing, for the looseness of line it can afford, for the rapport she establishes with a model through intense observation, and for the energy a living being (versus a still life) embodies. 

​Mary Lou’s groupings of life drawings include black and white sculptural renderings of parts of bodies—forms suggesting a whole—as well as overlapping coloured lines that search out shapes in order to create a whole. The former are a nod to the technique she uses in her architectural fragments, and the latter are precursors to the human figures she draws on Mylar. By combining the two techniques she has taken greater risks, but also evolved in her search for meaningful ways of extending life drawing into her studio practice.

​Barb Carr and Jane Hamilton-Khaan each came to printmaking via a host of mediums, but in 2013 their artistic lives began to intertwine. Individually, these two artists are explorers.

In 1990, Barb was piqued by a watercolour course, the first step in her art practice.  She then moved on to acrylics, focussing on painting close-ups of textured granite. “After all that grey, I craved colour,” she told me. Collage provided an outlet for more varied expression. Today Barb pulls prints using multi-hued inks. Not content with only one medium, in the current show at the WAG she has included among her large monotypes a series of small prints to which she has added pastel.

​By profession Jane was a commercial artist concerned with precision and clarity. But gradually she explored mediums that allowed for more spontaneity. In 1984, pottery offered a welcome change that eventually led to her use of raku firing, a technique that involves many variables and unpredictable results. Jane then experimented with collage, but finally settled on printmaking, which she approaches intuitively. Three of the works in this show, however, also include an element of collage. 

​Hanging their work at the WAG on Thursday morning, Barb and Jane are clearly having a good time. I want to know which of their own pieces is their favourite. “This one,” says Barb, drawing my attention to an image that references a landscape, but stands out because of its graphic components. Contours is a study in contrasts: rich black vs. luminous gold and pink that camouflages subtle botanical forms; vertical shapes vs. curved shapes; opaque colour vs. transparent colour; hard edge vs. ripped edge; serendipity vs. planning. Barb passed Contours through the press four times to achieve the result she wanted.

​Jane, for her part, takes me over to the gallery’s dark grey wall where Walking Man hangs. She credits a painting by Kandinsky that she saw in the Tate Modern in England for her choice of colour and composition in this, her favourite monotype. On a blue and yellow background, which constituted the first pass, I see whimsical irregular shapes as well as geometric shapes in bold colours, positioned to draw the eye to the centre. The shapes became part of the composition when Jane carefully placed inked cut-outs on the dry ground and gave the print a second pass. 

​What was the trajectory that led these two artists to launch a duo exhibition, I want to know. The story goes that shortly after they met, Jane took a course in collage offered by Barb at the KSOA. Barb suggested Jane try printmaking in the school’s Friday Open Studio, where Barb had been working for several years. Jane plunged in. Both artists thrived as they worked alongside one another, experimenting with coloured inks, resists and stencils. Then, in 2016, along with a friend, Barb and Jane took a trip to Ireland, where they enrolled in a printmaking course together. What did they learn? “A foolproof registration system for overprinting,” answers Barb. “The Guinness was great!” laughs Jane.
            More Pressure presents prints by two artists working in the same medium while exhibiting very personal aesthetics. 

​“Flexible” describes Atallia Burke’s Saturday morning drawing course for 8- to 12-year-olds. Although she has projects prepared for each class, she will make changes on the fly if her students want to take a different approach or if they express interest in a different subject. Her teaching philosophy: Art has no parameters. When she presents a project she prefers not to give too much direction, recognizing that young students will enjoy an art activity more if they can add their own details, background or colour. 
​
Atallia is in her fourth year of teaching art to children at the KSOA. She usually begins her first class with a new group by asking students what kind of art they like, and then she asks them to draw it. Her purpose is twofold—to discover what interests them and to determine their skill level.

​Last Saturday morning, while Atallia’s students were warming up doing pencil drawings on large pieces of newsprint, they told me what they liked about the course and what they had learned. Cameron, a thoughtful 11-year-old who also attended summer art camp, learned how to add detail to his drawings. Sragvi, age 8, who was delightedly showing me a teeny-tiny drawing of herself (recognizable because of the boots), liked that she could use materials different from those offered at her school. Ethan, 11, a fan of digital art creation, learned about perspective and said he had especially enjoyed the class in which he drew a chair with pillows and draped fabric. Molly, also 11, liked the student-teacher ratio (4 to 1 in this course). She learned to draw what she sees, and not what she thinks a thing looks like. She also learned that if she is looser in her movements, drawing is easier. And, finally, she learned to take more time.

​The class began as Atallia had her students choose a donkey or an easel in the back room of the school in preparation for the morning’s life drawing activity. She then became the (clothed) model while the young artists used pencil to draw stick figures on newsprint, paying attention to the tilt of shoulders and hips. “What direction is my body moving?” she asked. And later, as she circulated to look at the students’ work: “Great lean!” Then it was my turn to model for a few minutes while Atallia provided individual help. Next, each member of the class took a turn at posing. “It’s a good way to make them conscious of the dynamism of a movement,” Atallia told me. To the students she said, “Draw just the outline of the body. Pay attention to all the bumps. Don’t look at your paper!” The result: Overlapping blind contours in crayon and oil pastel. And all the while students were rotating from donkeys to standing easel in order to get the feel of working at both. Finally, Atallia handed out large sheets of yellow paper. She mounted the dais again, positioned a light source and found a comfortable pose that she held for 10 minutes. Now students could add detail and shadows. Cameron was the last model of the morning. “If you were drawing small, draw big,” Atallia then suggested.
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Although there is repetition from course to course in the projects Atallia does, each new set of students approaches them with excitement. She likes nothing better than when her young artists surprise her by going beyond expectations. And she has witnessed growth, in Sragvi, for example, who is taking the course for a second time.
As the class cleaned up before going home, Atallia reminded them, “Make sure you sign your drawings.”

​Bruce St. Clair juried this year’s Paint the Town! entries, which are currently on display at the WAG. He opened his remarks by saying that the show, although small, displayed high-quality work in terms of composition and skill of execution. Following are excerpts from his feedback to winners and honourable mentions.

​Wanda Slawinski, Pawn Shop (acrylic)
“… the artist has exercised her artistic prerogative, choosing viewpoint and positioning of content to create this strong abstract impression of the location ... this brave little painting reveals an adventurous side to her artistic personality.”

​Phil Chadwick, Albert Street Alley (oil)
“Cool observation and carefully considered composition are a hallmark of his work … I chose this one because it gives us … an interior view--more intimate than the usual street scene. We can feel we're being enticed to sneak between the houses, see what's really back there; we can't help but be drawn by that white shed.”

​Nancy Steele, Albert Street (oil)
“Perhaps what I enjoy the most about this wee piece is the confident brush action, every stroke true to its intent and free of the mud and mess so difficult to avoid in alla prima oil painting … A true impressionist painting, full of light and colour.”

​Elizabeth Pulker, At Memorial Pool (lino print)
“… succeeds very well as an abstract design … the fence … obeys the guidelines of composition, directing us to enter rather than keeping us on the outside looking in.”

​Cyndy Nute, Dappled Tree (acrylic)
“… effective use of aerial perspective ... the wonderful exuberance of the tree branches contrasts with the serenity of the simple bush shapes, gentle shadows and flat lawn.”

​Cindy Mitchell, Beyond the Trees (oil)
“Although the flower bed in the foreground circles around in front of us, it doesn't hinder our footsteps as we follow the grassy pathway into the sunlit interior… a little Pre-Raphaelite leaf painting adds to the illusion of depth.”

​Carol Lynne Rice, Darbar Exotic Indian Cuisine (pastel on sanded paper)
“Its darkness actually invites us to look more closely… we discover two people… having a conversation! …The words aren't that easy to read, which is why the balloons manage to become simply an unobtrusive part of the over-all composition.”

​Indeed, Emebet’s artworks reflect ties to her birthplace. Her series of female portraits, often back or side views that show head coverings and hairstyles, are a kind of homage to Ethiopia. The paintings were created after she attended an Ethiopian New Year’s celebration in Toronto. The streets, which had been closed off, were filled with her people, and she revelled in the festivities and the familiarity.