Submitted by Max Himsl
In a sudden plot twist we move far from the bucolic landscape of Art Farm and dive deep into the edgy urban underground of Weyburn’s art scene. And it is underground. A secretive night time visit to a grim landscape of neat lawyers offices and modern medical clinics surrounding a ghetto complex of clean well-kept apartments. I venture down a stark basement hallway, intimidated by the edgy urban subversive sound of classic rock blasting from a radio, every door the same except for the numbers and ponder the risks of proceeding.
I was going to meet Tanya and Christopher Borshowa, Real Underground Artists.
When I arrive, I am admitted to the apartment by Tanya, a self-described “facilitator,” before being ushered into the living room to find Christopher, clad in combat boots and camo pants, cleaning his cameras. He looks sideways at me from a camera he is affixing a lens to. “You ever shoot a man?” he asks. He points the loaded camera at me and I jump as the flash explodes with a small click. He grins. “Too slow.”
Inevitably, this couple is a study in harmonious contradiction. He appears as a two-meter-long vertical line connecting head and shoes. A black, rock band t-shirt makes his subversive artist’s identity plain. She, voluptuous and shapely and of a height that invites him to use her head as an arm rest, much to her frequent annoyance. He stands for the interview while she remains seated, emphasizing the obvious. Everything is an artistic statement with these two.
I pose my first question. “Who is your target audience?”
“Everyone,” Tanya says. “You have to watch everyone all the time because you never know what they will do next.”
Christopher fondles his camera restlessly, adjusting settings, poking buttons, unnervingly pointing and shooting at random objects. He pauses, camera still raised and says “My images are for adults only, 18 and over. My art is not for kids and it is definitely NSFW.” I squirm as he focuses his lens on my belt buckle and zooms in close. I cross my legs and rearrange my notebook.
“What is your favorite subject matter?”
“I watch people,” says Tanya. “ I’m fascinated by the way they walk, what they say, the places they scratch and the things they wear. You can get to know so much about a person just by staring at them.”
Chris fidgets with his camera, bizarrely turning it backwards and shooting himself in the face while Tanya chatters brightly, interjecting during a rare pause for breath, “I really enjoy photographing the sides of themselves that people want to keep hidden.” His fingertips whiten as he squeezes the camera and his eyebrows clench. “I focus on my subjects fears and vulnerabilities. Through deep inspection I show that exposure subverts and eliminates fear. The confidence instilled flows from the subject to the viewer. Say,” he adds, by way of an afterthought, “That’s quite a set of love handles you have there. I would really like to shoot you.”
I smooth my T-shirt over my slender(ish) waist. “Umm, you know, busy busy. Um. Where do you show it?”
Tanya waves her hands theatrically encompassing the whole room, or possibly the entirety of creation. “Everywhere,” she says. “I keep an eye on those around me all the time. I’ve been watching you since you came in here. Did you know your ears aren’t even? And there is something in your pocket. Is it a lighter or a tube of lipstick or what? I want to know.”
I cross my legs the other way and drop my notebook and Christopher picks up the answer. “I show it by doing whatever I want. It’s my camera, I’ve got a right to shoot whatever I want. No one tells me what to do. If I want to break basic rules of photography no one’s going to stop me, you hear me?” He swings the camera wildly squeezing off shots from the hip. “There and there and there. HaHahahaa!”
Wild and crazy artists indeed. But the truth, no matter how unsavory, must be told. “Why do you keep doing it?”
“Well for pleasure, of course,” says Tanya. “I find no better entertainment in the world than in looking at people and imagining their lives. Who knows? Maybe the stories I make up and tell about them are really true or are perhaps they are just allegories? See? Art is the truth, even when it lies.”
“I do it,” says Chris, “because I want to make people strong. When I see someone looking weak or helpless all my darkest emotions surge up and I want to shoot that weakness, that fear, shoot it and shoot it until I have captured its’ essence and the weakness is transformed to beauty and strength in my photos.”
“When do you talk about it?”
“Always. I really like interrogating everyone I meet. You hear such fascinating stories.”
Christopher nods in agreement. “I’ll talk to anyone willing to listen. Don’t you listen to what they say. That whole threats and intimidation rap was so bogus, never even went to court. But I’ve got a bit of a reputation now, eh? More and more, when I talk, people listen. I like it.”
Art Farm V will be held on Saturday, June 10 at the van der Breggan farm from noon until 7 p.m. Admission is $4, with children ages six and under free.
