Jardin d’Amour

Crushed cans, 12 x 12, 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 Garden of Love is a standing subject in European painting: a planted, enclosed place where lovers meet, with flowers, foliage and light as its setting. The title gives the cans that setting, and the surface supplies the garden. Bright green covers nearly every can, thick and mottled like moss or new leaf, with bare silver showing through in patches. The silver reads as light breaking through foliage. Rust-red and brown stains gather on the lower centre can like turned earth or fallen petals.

The structure is a garden’s. Four upright cans stand side by side in the lower half, like plantings in a bed or a hedge. One broad can lies across the top of them as a canopy. A pink disc sits in the upper centre of that top can, soft against the green, and it reads as a single bloom. At the right a green valve stem extends from the mass with a small flared end, like a flower on a stalk. A narrow dark slit opens between the canopy and the centre can, the only gap in the piece, and it reads as a gate into the garden.

The tone is tender. The green is bright, the folds in the metal are soft, and the outline is a plump, rounded mass with no hard corners. Crushed cans are usually read as damage, and these look overgrown instead. The garden has grown over the cans, and the one pink bloom among the green gives the piece its sentiment.


“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

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