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.
An occupational hazard is a danger that comes with doing a job, and the phrase is usually said of risks accepted as routine. The cans are the products of such jobs: a degreaser, a wood-panel cleaner, a household cleaner. Their printing is mostly hazard notice. The black can at the left reads “extremely flammable liquid,” “may cause flash fire,” “contents under pressure” and “vapor harmful,” and it refers the reader to precautions on the side panel. On the red can a red octagon and the word DANGER are partly legible. The warnings have survived the crushing intact, while the cans themselves are flattened.
The black can is the one upright element, and it is the darkest and most severe thing in the piece. Its white horizontal rules and its bars of blue and violet give it the look of a printed form or a ledger. Beside it, three cans lie on their sides, stacked like rungs: pink and white with a barcode, then red and gold, then green with a barcode. Two bare silver cans close them in above and below. The stripes on the black can run in the same direction as these horizontal cans, but they sit on an upright surface that turns the other way. Each hazard has its own colour and its own label, and the stack is ordered like shelves in a storeroom.
The outline is a rough disc, flattened along the left where the black can stands. The two silver cans have lost nearly all their printing and are creased and torn along their edges. Rust-coloured spots dot the lower one, and a red stain sits near the valve at the upper left. These are the only cans that carry marks of wear, and they bracket the labelled ones. The bar codes appear on two of the labelled cans, and nothing on any of them offers a remedy. The cans carry their warnings and nothing else.
“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
