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.
To pile on is to add weight to something already down. The three cans are the result of that: containers built to hold gas under pressure, pressed flat and laid one on another. The pressure that once defined them is gone, and what remains is a heap of things that have been pushed down and then pushed on.
The lowest can is insect repellent, and its label reads “Off!” with the O missing. A repellent exists to keep things away from a body. Its command sits under two other cans and carries their weight without effect. “Pile on” and “Off” are opposite orders, and the sculpture shows both at once: the stack obeys the first, and the lettering issues the second to no one. The oven cleaner above it ends in “SY-OFF”, so the command appears again on a second can, and again the can beneath it is ignored.
Without its O, “ff!” also reads as a sound, the hiss of an aerosol letting go. The spray was the last thing these containers did, and the exclamation stands in for that release. The title’s parenthesis is what the cans say, and “Pile On” is what has been done to them.
The top can has no printing left. It lies at the summit of the heap, bare and silver, with no command to give, and the two labelled cans below it do the shouting.
“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
