PRESENTING
“LUMINENTS,
2”
OIL
PAINTINGS BY JESSE LEPP
HERE
AT RISE ABOVE
in
St. Catharines, Ontario
December 2013 - February 2014
“Your
new moons and your appointed feasts my soul hateth:
they
are a trouble unto me, I am weary to bear them.
And
when ye spread forth your hands, I will hide mine eyes from you;
yea,
when ye make prayers, I will not hear: Your hands are full with
blood.”
—from
The Book of the Prophet Isaiah
“No;
I only eat food.”
—my
nephew (age 3) on eating Christmas turkey
Artist's
Statement
You
know how I respect and regard vegans! I'll tell you a dream I had. It
was your basic zombie movie and I was the protagonist, like the sort
of one you'd find in World War Z or, more mercifully,
Pontypool, a kind of man (or woman, as the case may be in a
dream) thrust to the forefront of an epidemic, only, in my dream, the
zombies were all gourmets – which was, one would think, weird.
Gourmets seemed the special point of the plot. Yes, the vegan zombies
were the best, for obvious reasons: they would collect hair and nail
clippings and make, I don't know, a toe-jam goulash . . . most people
I met, though, were 'ethical', meaning just that they would merely
take a non-life-essential limb or organ and let you get by. These
'ethicists' survived mostly on a black market of appendices and
tonsils if they were rich, an arm or a leg or a finger if they were
poor . . . the
carnists though, they were a different story. They'd set up a
spit and roast you alive for twelve hours and that would be the end
of you. Fat fizzing on the fire to satiate their bacchanalian
enjoyment of appetite for appetite's sake. Almost—almost—like the
ancient practice of sacrifice. Yeah . . . so, I had this dream as I
slept, after I was thinking of this show, here, at Rise Above,
for a few days—a few weeks ago now. I even thought up a good title
if I ever decide to write the screenplay: Goremet.
To
feast is too bogged down in the Bacchanalian, or the Bahktinian, if
you like . . . whereas meat eating has more to do with having
foodstuff that can move of its own accord (with a little coaxing),
which is, you could say, of little relevance now, now that mass
exodus is no longer an expected part of Canadian life;—whereas
meat eating is too survive without proper food, which is strange in a
time wherein horticulture is a perfect science, a real art. So, 'to
feast': co-opted by the quintessential 'invading army' (that great
American calling). . . an army's food (so you'd best like it), an
army's market. It seems—I see clearly perhaps that veganism is
another promise of peace . . . it is believable.
Johnny
is the better fisherman of the two of us pictured in
“Infrastructure,” which is a painting of a Dam near Biscotasing.
I remember, I had had this romantic ideal to eat a fish I had caught
myself upon deciding to accept John's invitation to accompany him on
one of his Northern excursions. Ah, Northern Ontario! It would be the
best fish I ever ate: for ethical reasons, you see. Oh, I caught the
fish . . . took it back to the cabin, took a picture of me and it.
John, though, said, “So, you want me to kill one of my friends?”
In an insane act of pedagogy he filleted the fish while it was alive
and flapping, presumably to put into my heart the hurt I was doing to
the world and to it by wishing to taste something, I don't know what
(je ne sais quoi, I think it's called). That's John's boat and
gas-can in “Esker”, a place he told me about where you could find
the holes in gourd sized black rocks made by diamonds as they twist
their oyster like singularity into all time. “Dr. Dahlah”, as
John liked to be called, remains to me a man with 'impeccable
judgement'.
.
. . really, here, I have to say thanks to Kasia for suggesting this
show to me and to her friends, Brian and Kelsy of Rise Above for
their better than merely ethical business ideal. The food here is
delicious, is it not? Living things that don't mind not minding, eh?
So
long as this restaurant is a good place to eat I will be heartened.
Nobody says we are at peace, anyone who does probably . . . well, we
find peace where we can . . .
Jesse
Lepp
N-O-T-L
LUMINENTS
The
Show:
|
One
Dozen Roses
|
$400.00
/ oil on canvas / unframed
|
|
The
Copse, Southern Ont.
|
1000
(framed)
|
|
Tiger
Lilies
|
400
(acrylic on styrofoam, framed)
|
|
Eskar,
Bisco., Ont.
|
500
|
|
The
Dreamers
|
1500
(framed)
|
|
Bacchus's
Theft of the Stars over Toronto
|
350
|
|
The
Soul, The Vine
|
100
|
|
Infrastructure,
Bisco., Ont.
|
380
|
|
Probability
of Winter, NOTL, Ont.
|
1100
|
|
Irrigation,
NOTL, Ont.
|
450
(framed)
|
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