Canada Wry: Douglas Coupland's Pop Fizz

CEBU, Philippines - It was warm and sunny, a perfect summer's day in Vancouver.  Despite the lure of the beach and the great outdoors, I made my way to Robson Street, where the Vancouver Art Gallery is located, and plunged into the dim, cool lobby of the museum.  There, waiting for me in a wild explosion of colors, was the museum's

retrospective on Douglas Coupland, an exhibit that occupied the entire first floor of the gallery.And what a wise decision it was to forego the summer heat, I discovered, even if there were buff bodies playing beach volleyball or simply broiling in the sun.  What awaited my arrival was enough to offset the gorgeous day outside, the artist's keen intellect firing up the gallery goer's hearts with its witty yet biting take on life.

Entitled "everywhere is anywhere is anything is everything," the exhibit is a stunning kaleidoscope, a testament to pop art and the very serious issues they can and do take on despite the frivolity of the hues and materials sometimes chosen as the artist's medium of expression.

As a prelude though, pedestrians were treated to a clever introduction to Douglas Coupland, although he is already well known to a sizable chunk of the population, not just because of his talents as an artist, but also as a hit novelist that introduced the world to the term 'Gen-X' with novels such as Microserfs and the seminal Generation X: Tales for an Accelerated Culture.  With 14 novels under his belt, Coupland should be an instantly recognizable face.  But since he's not, Coupland took matters in his own hands.

Creating a gigantic replica of his head, Coupland planted his mug right on the street, titled it "Gumhead," and invited passers-by to stick their chewed chewing gum on to his face.  He describes it as a "gum-based, crowd sourced, publically interactive social sculpture."  And a lot of enthusiastic bubble gum users did (and still do) plant their sticky refuse on to this artwork, the idea being that eventually, Coupland's face will be submerged in a featureless sea of sticky rubber.  How's that for a come-on? 

And so, after this hilarious encounter, on to the exhibit I went.  First up, not Americana, but, well, Canadiana?

"National Pantry" is a series of shelves stocked with everyday objects.  But these objects are meant to define Canadian identity.  Apparently, Coupland collected knickknacks, grocery items, and household furnishings that are representative of Canada life. His goal: to amass objects that would look familiar to an American, yet would actually trigger peculiar feelings.

So we see little toys and tins and crackers, even lunchboxes and license plates, all items that one might see in America, but are actually homegrown in Canada and uniquely Canadian.  Coupland also offers ice machines, boxes containing seasoning, and pepsi cola signs, designed to situate Canadians in this world economy.  Definitively Canuck.

In another section of the exhibit, we land in what could be Legoland, as Coupland capitalizes on the building block that is Lego, and creates fantastical skyscrapers in the sculpture entitled "Towers."  A 2014 work that originated from crowdsourcing activities where the artist invited both adults and children to reimagine their urban jungle, "Towers" is a jaw dropping feat of the imagination, with a sprawling cityscape that rivals Shanghai or Hong Kong.

A favorite piece is "Tokyo Harbour" which is just a collection of plastic bottles in plasticky colors holding liquid laundry soap.  The story is, Douglas Coupland purchased these bottles and dumped their contents in the hotel  sink, where presumably, they all ended up dumped onto the harbors of Tokyo.  Hence, the title.

Yet this piece does not end there, as apparently, it is meant as a commentary on the similarity between American and Japanese designs for laundry soap bottles (as narrated by a guide lecturing his charges as I walked by), as well as the pollution that is prevalent not just in Tokyo, but also in Vancouver's beaches and other parts of the world.  Coupland also recalls the flotsam and jetsam that the 2012 tsunami in Japan washed up on Canadian shores.

There is also the artist collaborating with the author, as rooms full of quips and clever sayings are offered to inundate the hapless viewer with points of view that might or might not ring true.  How, for example, should one take the pov that "Poor famous people are depressing"?  Or "I miss being clueless"?  What about "Opposites attract.  Then they attack"?

Is a good chuckle in order?  Or should one be offended at the shallowness of the thought, or the lack of compassion thereon"?   Whatever one's reaction is, these quips can and do provoke discussion.

Not everything is richly colored, though, as Coupland also offers monochromatic landscapes. However, these are not just the bucolic scenes of fields and vales we are used to when we view landscapes.  Instead, Coupland uses palettes of gray, black and white, as well as cloth patterns of houndstooth and checks to create what we suddenly realize are vistas of icebergs and jagged mountains, steep ravines and wild, empty frontiers.  It is a superb feat of representational art that Coupland demonstrates in this series, as well as, again, a reference to the identity of Canada as a wild and harsh country.

Coupland also features black and white graphic art that are, so to speak, artful.  Composed of dots positioned just so, the images are extremely difficult to divine - unless one positions his smartphone viewer in front of the canvass.  Suddenly, the painting reconfigures itself into something recognizable, and the brain realizes (through one's phone) just what the artist tried to convey.  A personal favorite is "The Lovers," which is not just the collection of dots that it seems like.  Rather, it is the swift fall of two bodies, joined hand in hand, from the height of the World Trade Center minutes before the New York landmark dissolves into 9-11's ashes and flames.

The finale of this collection is a piece entitled "The Brain," which is an assemblage of found objects and collectibles that were collected by Coupland for over 20 long years.  The piece straddles an enormous room, and seeks to represent what is found in the brain by filling the space with what tends to occupy the mind.  Hence, we get toys and fashion and practical objects, as well as the thousand other things (as represented by the five thousand plus pieces installed by the artist) that clutter our brain.

Coupland drapes cloth tendrils over the six distinct sections of the work, supposedly to represent the electric synapses that communicate from one part of the brain to the other.  One section has been sprayed entirely with white. There is even a chair installed high up, to represent the higher consciousness driving man, the rational animal.

All in all, the sculpture is a stunning feat of patience, and leads us to wonder, "what on earth was he thinking?" But then, perhaps that is what art is supposed to do.  To make us think. To make us wonder. And sometimes, to make us laugh.

The Douglas Coupland collection is on show in the Vancouver Art Gallery until this month only. (FREEMAN)