Crushed cans, 11 x 11, 2006.
The aerosol cans that these pieces are constructed from can be imagined narratively as the peripheral artifacts of creation, bearing more than a passing resemblance to a traditional painter’s flattened, empty metallic tubes of oil paint. Viewing the sculptures literally, this conception expands to represent the peripheral artifacts of life itself: cans of brake fluid, oven cleaner, insect repellent, spray paint, et cetera. In the context of the Art Gallery of Alberta’s “flat” exhibition, these crushed spray paint give a nod, and a wink, in homage to Jules Olitski’s spray paintings, also on view.
These crushed can pieces are all shown one-sided, literally flat on the wall, and thus can be perceived as pictures. Yet, their images are identical with their material supports, not applied as a surface design; therefore, the works remain in the world of physical objects, and are more accurately described as polychrome bas-relief sculptures.
The question as to where such sculptures belong within our contemporary artistic landscape is a pleasing puzzle. Formally, these works might bring to mind the shaped canvases, riotous colours, and metallic reflections of some of Olitski’s (and notably, Clement Greenberg’s) artistic followers, like Edmonton’s Graham Peacock and his fellow ‘New New Painters’; or, the well-known crushed metal sculptures of John Chamberlain. Conversely, some of the works, with more overt references to consumer products, encourage a Pop or Fluxxus-inspired interpretation since, unlike modernist paintings, these pieces are what a Duchampiste would call “objets trouvé.”
Each of these individual works are indeed found objects; conscientiously selected, rather than intentionally created, as artworks. Through a simple change in perspective, detritus is transformed into an aesthetic object. Although a Duchampian reading could lead some to interpret these works as a rejection of Greenbergian sensibilities, that would be a mistake. Greenberg often wrote and spoke appreciatively of Duchamp’s better readymades. Indeed, these crushed can artworks represent a celebration of the true breadth and inclusiveness of Clement Greenberg’s allegedly unfriendly “formalist” aesthetic: anything that can be appreciated aesthetically can be appreciated as art.
The beehive is the hairstyle: a tall, rounded mass of backcombed hair, fashionable in the late 1950s and 1960s, and held in shape by aerosol lacquer. The red can at the left is a hair product, with the name Schwarzkopf & Henkel printed on its label and its directions in French. It is the tallest element in the sculpture, tapering up to a crimped neck and valve cap above everything else, as the style rises above the head. The word also names the insects’ home, and the can along the bottom is an insecticide. Its label is partly legible, with a starburst behind the lettering, and its lettering includes “Ear”, presumably for earwig. One name covers a product that builds a beehive and a product that destroys one, and the sculpture has a can of each.
The four cans form a ring around a dark, empty centre. The red hair-product can makes the left side, the silver cans make the top and the inner edge, and the insecticide closes the bottom. A hive is a shelter with an interior, and the interior here is a void bounded on all sides by flattened metal.
At the right, a can end shows concentric rings around a central valve stem, and it is the only circle in the work. It sits where the ring is closest to being open, and it reads as an entrance to the enclosure. The silver cans next to it are scarred with rust and with traces of green, like old comb.
“Ryan McCourt’s flattened aerosol cans are relatively pure as Duchampian gestures. They are what they already are. They are each modified, but with rigorous similarity – like widgets stamped from a machine. They are ‘altered ready-mades’, and their aesthetic merit (differentiating them from everything else in the world that is not art) hinges on one thing: the artist’s choice. In spite of the evocative and mostly humorous titles, these objects are almost completely self-evident: no secret patented technique, no relief from the here and now, no window to somewhere else – just beautiful, flattened cans.”
—Marcus Miller, curator, Art Gallery of Alberta, 2007
“Waste, regarded as worthless material, is a human-defined and controlled concept. When we designate something as waste and discard it into the trash bin, it undergoes a nullification of its monetary value and its symbolic meaning changes. The symbolism of waste extends beyond its origin and final destination, delving into the deeper relationship between humans, the material world, and the land.”
—Yuluo Anita Wei, curator, Steelcase Art Projects, 2024
