Author: Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre

Eric Goldstein and Jenny Judge are different in their backgrounds and creative philosophies, in their media and techniques, but they have two characteristics in common: their images are abstract, and strings drive their artistic perceptions. (photo by Jenny Judge)

A string is a simple, utilitarian object. Usually, it connects things, but rarely is it associated with beauty. However, String Theory, the current two-artist exhibition at the Zack Gallery, definitely brings beauty to gallery patrons.

The artists participating in the show – Jenny Judge and Eric Goldstein – are different in their backgrounds and creative philosophies, in their media and techniques, but they have two characteristics in common: their images are abstract, and strings drive their artistic perceptions.

Judge has been an installation artist for decades.

“I received a BFA in sculpture and printmaking in 1983 and completed an MFA in sculpture in 1991,” she told the Independent. “I often integrate a variety of craft-based material and processes in my installations, and I have exhibited them in Canada and abroad, but I have never exhibited my drawings before this show. I’ve been drawing for a long time, but my drawings were never the focus of my art. They were for clearing my head, as was my writing, which is also essential to my practice. Both helped me understand my own concepts better. I guess it is time for my drawings to be in the foreground of a show.”

Like her installations, Judge’s drawings have depth, displaying multiple layers of texture and meaning.

“The heart of these drawings is transition, the two different sides coming together, connected by lines or strings,” she explained. “Light versus dark. Old age versus youth. Northern hemisphere versus southern. Sky versus water. My family lives in Canada and New Zealand, and I’m often traveling from there to here and back. My drawings help me to make sense of these transitions.”

All her pieces in the show are a wash of muted paint in the background overlaid by a network of strings and nodes in faintly contrasting colours. The web of strings and their junctions is complex and delicate, the lines gossamer-thin, reflecting the artist’s contemplation of belonging to the emotional and physical landscape of both Canada and New Zealand. 

“My drawing are like landscapes,” she said. “There is even a horizon line in most of them, the line where two different worlds meet, the areas of constant shifting and negotiations. But there is much more to the story I want to tell. That’s why I paint in the abstract style. A simple landscape is just that – a landscape, a forest or a mountain. But an abstract picture always leaves room for interpretation. Everyone can come up with their own story.”  

Like her images, Judge’s titles are also open to interpretation: “Crossing,” “Striations,” “Pass Through,” for example.

“They underscore my feelings of not always knowing where I am in time and space, of always seeking connections,” she said.     

Inspired by the concepts of meeting points, of confluence and repetition, Judge also sees parallels between her compositions and knitting.

“I learned to knit from my mother when I was 10. I remember sitting with her as we talked, knitted and counted stitches. I still enjoy knitting. When you knit, you have one string of yarn and you repeat the same pattern over and over again. And, suddenly, you have something else: a scarf or a sweater. That’s what I do when I draw. I repeat endless variations of the same pattern until something meaningful emerges,” she said.  

Another link between her drawings and her knitting is the tool she employs. She draws with a bamboo skewer (very like a knitting needle), dipped in acrylic ink. “It is a very domestic item,” she said. “But it has a sharp point, sharper than any brush. It allows me to draw very thin lines. I build those webs of lines over one another, rows and layers, until I’m satisfied with the result. Sometimes, it takes several layers until the whole starts making sense. Of course, it takes a long time to draw all the lines I visualize for even one painting.”

Perhaps the length of time it takes her to create her pieces contributes to the fact that she doesn’t take commissions. “I tried,” she said. “But I didn’t like the clients’ constant demands. I don’t create art for the money.”     

Goldstein, however, does take commissions and he relishes seeing his pieces in people’s homes.

“I create mixed media collages,” he said. “I use coloured fibres, gold foil, glass, paint, plaster.”

While Judge’s web-like pictures imply multiple dimensions, Goldstein’s fibre string collages tend to one-directional geometries, either horizontal or vertical, their colour patterns cheerful and dazzlingly bright. The gold foil and the glass fragments provide even more pizzazz to his deceptively simple compositions. “I build my canvasses like an architect builds a building,” he said. 

Goldstein came to the visual art from the movie industry. Over the past three decades, he has been the director of photography for more than 75 film projects, from Hollywood features to documentaries. Creating gorgeous, highly decorative fibre collages for the last 15 years has provided him with a different outlet for his artistic vision. 

“I’m inspired by nature, by the West Coast landscape,” he said. “Not as it appears on the surface. Instead, I want to capture how it feels to experience it – often chaotic, often incomprehensible. I try to convey feelings. As a mixed-media artist, I delve into the intricate, visual storytelling of people and the world around us.”  

The pieces Goldstein presents in this show have rather mundane titles, in contrast to the elaborate poetry of the images themselves. “I call my paintings ‘Poetic narratives with kinetic energy,’” he said. 

One of the paintings, “View of the Bay,” is a symphony of blue, where glass tiles twinkle among the strings like windows on the far shore. “No Curtains Needed,” on the other hand, is a subtler image, hinting at an open window and a playful light. The artist offers a short description for every canvas, and this one reads: “The absence of curtains allows for unfiltered light to dance freely upon the walls. It creates a sense of freedom and awe. Reminding us to let go of our barriers, both physical and cerebral, so we can.” 

One of his most notable pieces in the exhibit – the white and blue “What Remains” – feels like a scream of the artist’s soul.

“The colours are the deconstructed Israeli flag,” he said. And his description of the image reads like a part of a poem: “This is my way of bearing witness to the horror unfolding in Israel and Gaza. It expresses my profound sense of conflict and loss of a meaningful identity. This piece isn’t about right or wrong or even resolution; it’s about holding space for complexity, for grief and empathy, and hope that something sacred remains.”  

Goldstein exhibits a lot, and his works are in demand. “Next month, I’ll have a show at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre,” he said. “I’ll have 12 paintings there.”

Judge and Goldstein didn’t know each other before Sarah Dobbs, the gallery curator, decided that their works were complementary. “Together,” she said, “Judge and Goldstein show that both our lives and the universe are shaped by invisible threads – of memory, matter and meaning. String Theory is … about the poetic links between the personal and the cosmic, reminding us that everything is connected.” Both artists agree.  

String Theory is at the Zack Gallery until Sept. 22. To learn more, check the artists’ websites: ericgoldsteinart.com and jennyjudge.com. 

Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].