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Grandma's Boy | One of Peter Kingstone's many interviewees in 100 Stories About My Grandmother

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Latitude 53

This week, Jill and Mandy return to Latitude 53, one of our favourite artist-run centres, to take in Peter Kingstone’s exhibition 100 Stories About My Grandmother.

Jill: When you first walk into Kingstone’s current installation at Latitude’s main gallery space, it’s like you’re walking into Grandmas’ house, complete with ornate floral-patterned couches and half-filled bowls of colourfully wrapped hard candy. Except this space is much, much sparser.

Mandy: Those couches greatly endeared themselves to me. Also, the sheer number of doilies. Joyous kitsch aside, though, this is a very emotionally jarring exhibition. Kingstone presents to us two seemingly disparate worlds: the world of Grandma, and the world of male sex trade workers. By combining them, he brings out the strangeness and unexplored themes of both.

Jill: I thought this was a really interesting concept: videotaping sex trade workers as they recall stories about their grandmothers, thereby bringing them into the realm of the everyday as well as portraying them as emotionally vulnerable. I’m really glad he stayed away from presenting his subject in a kind of negative fashion. Instead, he uses uplifting memories and experiences that can be shared by everyone — his subjects and his audience alike.

Mandy: Actually, the interviews that I listened to were not all that uplifting. I mean, some were very sweet, but the ones that really stuck with me were kind of difficult to hear. A lot of kind of vague, dark recollections of some pretty hard-sounding women. One man in particular managed to both break my heart and piss me off. He had been brought up in foster care, and his story wasn’t about a grandmother, but was instead full of violent and angry imagery.

Jill: I kind of wished it was a bit... more. You know? I thought Kingstone could have pushed it: made the room more Grandma-ish. I also thought that the show itself would have benefitted if Kingstone had taken the very stark contrast inherent in his subject matter and translated it somehow into the actual visuals. If someone were to simply go into the room and listen to the individuals without any prior knowledge of Kingstone’s statement, I fear a lot of the meaning might be lost.

Mandy: Ironically, that’s exactly what I did. I didn’t know the “sex-trade” connection of the people interviewed until after I had already viewed the show. Is “interviewed” even the right word here? No, it’s more like storytelling. Anyway, the stories felt very powerful to me even before knowing the exact context of the individuals or intent of the artist.

Jill: And maybe that’s part of the point of the exhibition, too. Well, of course it is — to make people realize that these individuals are, in fact, individuals who can’t be reduced to stereotypes of any kind. Still, I have to wonder what it might have been like if the installation aspect of the piece had been pushed just a teensy bit further.

Mandy: It’s difficult to say. I thought the fundamental aesthetic presentation was solid. Those couches are absolutely synonymous with the idea of Grandma’s to me. But, as for teensy pushing, perhaps an alternative idea would be having actual grandmothers present, reading aloud transcripts of the videotaped recordings?

Jill: I thought it was a very inclusive show, considering the subject matter. The icing on the cake: some excellent couches, and Grandma-style hard candies!

Mandy: That’s it. Cage fight: Grandma vs. Grandma. Winner gets lifetime supply of doilies.