Once I was able to get past the preconceived notions of what constituted “Canadian” photography I was able to find photographers who not only had historical presence, but artists who fit within a different context other than the sole conceptual realm of the “Vancouver School”. The artist that fits within this territory and seems to stand out in my mind is Montréal based Lynne Cohen. Cohen is an artist that you could place beside Candida Höfer or Jeff Wall, a photographer who produces images that are social, political, and highly conceptual.

© Lynne Cohen
Sometimes these photographs are bunched together in a series, but for the most part, Cohen is treating picture making as a one-by-one process, a concept that is close to the way Jeff Wall works. These are photos of institutional and domestic spaces, images that often are completely devoid of human presence.

© Lynne Cohen
Another photographer who follows a conceptual line of documentary images is Robert Bourdeau. Although Bourdeau’s practice is similar to Cohen’s, his ultimate goal with these images is not to document but to express a poetic undertone within each space depicted recorded.

Le Grand Palais, Paris, France, 2001 © Robert Bourdeau
Bourdeau’s photography is at times brooding and explores the sublime quality of light and depth within photographs that often contain a limited colour palette. It is a search for an implicit mood caught between the cracks of structures, places, and landscapes in transition.

Gooderham Worts Distillery, Toronto, Ontario, 2002 © Robert Bourdeau
This idea of transition is no better exemplified then in the photography of Edward Burtynsky. Burtynsky’s images are concerned with the change that man has inflicted on the landscape, an often brutal and always seductive depiction.

Nickel Tailings No. 34, Sudbury, Ontario, 1996 © Edward Burtynsky
Where Bourdeau seems more concerned with tone and feeling, Burtynsky’s photography places social concern as an equal factor within his art. These are images that not only want to seduce the viewer through a play of colour and chiaroscuro, but they function as informative frames of reality that critique our relation to each other as human beings.

Oxford Tire Pile No. 8, Westley, California, 1999 © Edward Burtynsky
These three photographers represented to me an alternative style of Canadian photography. They are a grouping of artists that are intertwined with not only conceptual ideals, but they are photographers that hold within themselves an importance of documentary observation. What is particularly interesting is that Cohen, Bourdeau and Burtynsky are based on the eastern side of Canada, clearly showcasing the difference between a west and east aesthetic within Canadian photographic practice.
It was clear to me that these two groups of photographers were producing images that are different not only in context, but in individual intent. For myself this difference has more to do with location. Canada is a large nation, a fact that many overlook when evaluating Canadian historical presence within the arts. When you consider that most countries in the world don’t even fill the space that makes up one of our provinces, you start to get the idea that space is an important element when trying to pinpoint a national style.
Thus, it is my opinion that one cannot fully define a unique Canadian style. There are in fact two distinct groups that define something that could be called a national style, both rooted separately; one on the west side of Canada (Jeff Wall, Rodney Graham, Ken Lum, and Stan Douglas) and the other on the east side of Canada (Lynne Cohen, Robert Bordeau, and Edward Burtynsky). This is not a definitive account of what Canadian photographic style is, it is simply an attempt to make a general consensus with individual photographers acting as examples of my claims. I know that I have left out many great and interesting Canadian photographers but this is not a book it is a blog. Comments are welcome.
March 20, 2008 at 9:44 am
Hi Noel,
you’re questions are similar to the first pages of Faking Death by Penny Cousineau-Levine. I don’t know if you’ve read this book, i’ve flipped through it and it is on my to read list. But after reading your posts, I asked myself the question of what I thought was Canadian style….i drew a bit of of a blank. and this is not to say that I don’t know any Canadian photographers they’re are many great ones but should their be more refined history classes on Canadian art/photography in photography programs? Would that strengthen a style?
Aislinn
March 20, 2008 at 11:34 pm
Thank you for your comment Aislinn.
Interesting, I’ve heard about “Faking Death” from friends but no I haven’t read it, I’ll defiantly check it out. Reading a couple different descriptions of Penny Cousineau-Levine’s argument, the book sounds fascinating. Thank you for pointing it out. As for your question, I’m a little on the fence about this one.
I think that more discourse, whether it takes place in institutions or not, is always beneficial to breeding an interest in a Canadian national identity. However, what I think I should have written as follow up to my “Do Canadians Have Style” post is the importance of such an identity. Is there a need to unify our cultural attitudes? If so, would this not dampen what many consider to be a nation of unexpected artistic discoveries? Of course, almost anything in life that is unified creates power both good and bad. It could be beneficial. Building history is something I know many Canadian curators have struggled with. So if we as a nation were to be known and even produce an exciting range of discourse in the arts, it would defiantly set up our cultural pursuits to succeed.
However, I think the problematic nature of this endeavor (a distinct national identity) in anything Canadian is often skewed by false perceptions. Canada, both in coming to terms with who it actually is as an evolving young nation, as well as what it means to actually find itself, is still an issue which is misunderstood. When the subject of national identity is addressed by writers, critics, and such, I’ve found, particularly recently, that the outlook is that Canada is a nation of multi-cultures, made up of diverse cultural attitudes that perhaps slow down the process of creating a unifying voice within the arts. In my opinion this is just not true. Our country is not quite there in terms of being the truly multicultural nation it so often boasts about, particularly the belief that the country accepts different cultures; just look at our treatment of Aboriginals.
I know that my education in Canada has often resided in an international view of the overall picture. This is something that I believe is crucial to not only unifying Canada, but in how we understand our global concerns. In a world that is becoming increasingly more aware of its own presence as a whole, I ultimately think that national unity is not important.
So why did I even bother writing about our lack of a national style? I think that it points out the sometimes derivative nature of such ideals, a problem that usually halts the evolution of any medium, as always, I could be wrong.