The history of the Galerie de l’UQAM, and more precisely that of the art collection of the University of Quebec of Montreal, is woven of affinities, families, and belonging. And inventories, as the title of the exhibition says, which brings together around fifty works (almost as many artists) and multiple archives.
With 4,000 pieces, the UQAM art collection has developed in fits and starts, in disparate batches and sometimes according to unusual processes — such as that of “loaned” works. Inventories of a collection tells its long story, which began more than a century ago with the arrival in Montreal, in 1919, of a convoy sent from Paris intended for the “museum of French art”, an aborted project. It is not without reason that the exhibition is funnyly paced. There are feats of strength, holes, surprises, incongruities too.
The Hetep-Bastet mummy, exhibited once and only for one day in 2016, is not there this time. But another Egyptian antiquity, yes — a stone lion dating back to 300 BCE. Youthful engravings too — signed Monic Brassard (of the future duo COZIC) or Michèle Cournoyer (renowned animation filmmaker), to name only these ex-students of Albert Dumouchel. Wall and metal sculpture Wallflower No. 2 (1970) by Henry Saxe, an artist who is hardly exhibited anywhere anymore, takes pride of place thanks to the elegant twisting of his pipes, flanked by works from the same years by Pierre Ayot and Serge Lemoyne.
The trio of curators, members of the Uqam family (doctoral student Lisa Bouraly and, from the teaching staff, Marie Fraser and Louis-Charles Lasnier), sorted the collection by inventory — ten in all. Some groupings are at least natural, such as inventory no 1 which reconstitutes the Fund of the School of Fine Arts, inherited by UQAM at the time of its founding, in 1969. Others are intriguing like the no 8, called “Moving the collection”. Between “Donations of works of art” (no 4), “Works in circulation” (no 5) or “Lists by artists” (no 9), the guideline becomes confusing, especially since the commissioners, in their layout, favored the mixing of lots and periods.
However, it is not rocket science: each inventory is a temporal marker, as expressed by the years which accompany their titles. Thus, the periods 1969-2003 and 2003-2024 which determined “Lists by artists” mark a turning point in the review of the collection. The year 2003 marks the entry into force of a more rigorous acquisition policy and therefore aligned with the programming of the Galerie de l’UQAM. Each artist who exhibits there does not necessarily enter the collection, but each work acquired, with some exceptions, it is assumed, results from the passage of its author in the university gallery.
But why exhibit a sculpture by David Altmejd from a private collection? A “promise of donation” accompanies it, of course, but does the university not have any other work by this graduate of the house and darling of the Galerie de l’UQAM for several years? Amazing.
Lots of questions
This distortion of the announced program – only works from the UQAM collection – is all the more surprising since the curators seem to have carried out careful work, supported by the examination of a plethora of documents. The texts on the walls and the long table in the heart of the room detail the results obtained. And the unobtainable ones.
There are gray areas that color the history of the collection, and many questions remain unanswered. The inventory no 7, “Disappeared works”, is, of course, the emblematic case. We no longer have any trace of many works, although they were identified in written documents or in photographs. The two large enlargements that open the exhibition, for example, show plaster casts, including a Rodin, as they were placed at the top of the stairs in the old School of Fine Arts. Where are they today? Nobody knows.
In order to broaden the understanding of the collection, the curators invited personalities from the arts community to choose a work from one of the ten lots. Individuals from the Uqamian fold (from the gallery director, Louise Déry, to the artist and professor Manon de Pauw) participated, as did people from outside, such as the Nunavik artist Asinnajaq or the curator independent Dominique Fontaine.
By choosing a set of rare small paintings by Pierre Dorion, Eunice Bélidor is not only highlighting a singular work. She also asks questions. “Why did the Galerie de l’UQAM accept the donation of a work that does not represent the artist’s current practice? Is it precisely to demonstrate research and experimentation in an academic collection? »
Rather than collecting masterpieces, Inventories of a collection delves into the underside of a conservation project for works of disparate origins. It’s like a tour behind the scenes, where decisions are made. If these may once have been of the cronyism type, or almost improvised, they are now of a high degree of professionalism.
