You also want an ePaper? Increase the reach of your titles

YUMPU automatically turns print PDFs into web optimized ePapers that Google loves.

<strong>MONDAY</strong><br />

<strong>ARTPOST</strong><br />

<strong>0829</strong>-<strong>2022</strong><br />

ISSN1918-6991<br />

<strong>MONDAY</strong><strong>ARTPOST</strong>.COM<br />

Columns by Artists and Writers<br />

Bob Black / bq / Cem Turgay /<br />

Fiona Smyth / Gary Michael Dault<br />

/ Holly Lee / Kai Chan / Kamelia<br />

Pezeshki / Ngan Chun-tung /Shelley<br />

Savor / Tamara Chatterjee / Wilson<br />

Tsang / + DOUBLESPREAD (Lee Ka-sing)<br />

/ Picnic (Holly Lee)<br />

<strong>MONDAY</strong> <strong>ARTPOST</strong> published on Mondays. Columns by Artists and Writers. All Right Reserved. Published since 2002.<br />

An Ocean and Pounds publication. ISSN 1918-6991. email to: mail@oceanpounds.com

A number of WAYS to not miss your weekly<br />

<strong>MONDAY</strong> <strong>ARTPOST</strong><br />

Subscribe inbox Notifications about new issue<br />

https://oceanpounds.com/pages/artpost<br />

Browse OCEANPOUNDS front page<br />

https://oceanpounds.com<br />

Visit OCEAN POUNDS Reading Room<br />

https://oceanpounds.com/blogs/rr<br />

Follow FACEBOOK Page<br />

https://facebook.com/mondayartpost<br />

Follow INSTAGRAM<br />

https://www.instagram.com/oceanpounds<br />

Follow TWITTER<br />

https://twitter.com/ocean_pounds<br />

Join PATREON membership<br />

https://patreon.com/doubledoublestudio<br />

“He who is not content<br />

with what he has, would<br />

not be content with what<br />

he would like to have.”<br />


Yesterday Hong Kong<br />

Ngan Chun Tung<br />

Ngan Chun-Tung 顏 震 東 (1926-2005)<br />

Ngan started his photographic career<br />

in the darkroom. Basically self-taught,<br />

he perfected his printing technique<br />

and offered printing service since<br />

1954. For almost a decade, he also<br />

gained his living by participating<br />

in photography contests, earning a<br />

modest amount of money and fame.<br />

He was awarded Hon. member of<br />

The Photographic Society of Hong<br />

Kong in 1964, and was President<br />

and Vice President of The Chinese<br />

Photographic Association of Hong<br />

Kong during 1968 to 1982. As soon<br />

as he retired in 1982, he set up<br />

school, focusing on teaching printing<br />

in the darkroom. Ngan had published<br />

books on practicing photography<br />

and darkroom techniques. His only<br />

monograph “Ngan Chun-Tung Black<br />

and White Photo Collection” was<br />

published in 2003.<br />

Hope For A Better Tomorrow (Hollywood Road, 1958)<br />

by Ngan Chun-tung<br />

8x10 inch, gelatin siver photograph printed in the nineties<br />

Edition 3/20, signed and titled on verso<br />

From the collection of Lee Ka-sing and Holly Lee

Leaving Taichung<br />

Station<br />

Bob Black<br />

The following poem, Hong Kong: Songs from the<br />

Rooftops, is an 8-part poem that was written over the<br />

course of the last 5 years. Each part corresponds to<br />

a part of Hong Kong and each part also is dedicated<br />

to a friend. It was completed this past spring. This<br />

poem is dedicated to 8 friends, for whom the city<br />

is a constant conversation in my head and heart,<br />

regardless of the shape and tune.<br />

This poem is dedicated to: Holly & Ka-sing Lee,<br />

Nancy Li, Kai Chan, Yam Lau, Chris Song and Ting,<br />

TimTim Cheng, Tammy Ho and Kristee Quinn.<br />

May they always be filled with voices, food and<br />

sound. Carry on.

Hong Kong: Songs from the Rooftops<br />

“In these shaken times, who more than you holds<br />

In the wind, our bittermelon, steadily facing<br />

Worlds of confused bees and butterflies and a garden gone wild”<br />

-- 梁 秉 鈞 , Bittermelon<br />

VI. Kwun Ton: 觀 塘 區 , Birds Clapping<br />

We awoke<br />

6am the birds clapping the thin morning light<br />

into the first raising in 3 days of rain<br />

into the first opening in which I do not think of birth<br />

days, slicking<br />

the eyefocus shimmer as mirage, the dropped I<br />

water buffalo eyewinking long in the distant horizon, so too they and all now<br />

awakening.<br />

We watch the curtain in our bedroom lung in and lunge out in unfocused breath,<br />

recall<br />

a tear<br />

up a moment<br />

listen<br />

for the earthworms singing up their group, a murder of black hyphens in the sky<br />

the new dandelions pop<br />

as the night’s oxygen bubbles from underneath, going in their longing,<br />

at the birds cacao<br />

An alluring song<br />

ca·coph·o·nous<br />

death<br />

sometimes you just want to be,<br />

quiet in language<br />

Death<br />

sometimes we just want to be,<br />

silent in song<br />

So<br />

you re-read, test anew, an extraordinary tea-stained page<br />

poems multiplying back the book--<br />

we are alive this am.<br />

The opaque Saturday morning silvering soon.<br />

The same cannot be said of everyone who has entered and exited your life, the breaks<br />

of life, or porcelain verbs and inherited vases,<br />

your hope, my heart,<br />

Perpetual<br />

Ly<br />

the gone, the songs, the scars, the reappeared and reassembled.<br />

All those lives, the mahjong and the sextoy store, the old man teething his tai chi poems<br />

and no one listens, only the birds<br />

Sentence Eliminations.<br />

Multiple Choice<br />

Strung up, thrown out copper coins with an eye of emptiness pressed out in the brass<br />

the void around which the wheel moves toward the hand and food pressed in a slot<br />

and all those birds.<br />

The birds<br />

The light kept appearing<br />

The going keep going<br />

and<br />

you put life down for a moment<br />

this morning an old book dusting on the shelf, tea cup red with lip stains<br />

this morning<br />

The birds clapping,<br />

The birds winging,<br />

The birds coming,<br />

The birds clamouring,<br />

and the birds keep, still<br />

Birds<br />

listening silently, aloud and around you<br />


Caffeine Reveries<br />

Shelley Savor<br />

Summer Chairs

Greenwood<br />

Kai Chan<br />

Landscape, acrylic paint on canvas


Wilson Tsang<br />


Open/Endedness<br />

bq 不 清<br />

浪<br />

WAVES<br />

往 海 洋 退 去 , 就 像 最 近 孵 化 的<br />

海 龜 , 消 失 而 不 會<br />

再 被 看 見 。 這 片 沙 灘 現 已 遍 佈<br />

殼 與 羽 毛 。 柳 枝 被 拋 棄<br />

Return to the ocean, like recently hatched<br />

Sea turtles, disappear and will not<br />

Be seen again. This beach is now bestrewn<br />

With shells and feathers. Osiers are left<br />

因 此 它 們 終 於 能 夠<br />

瞥 見 天 空 的 湛 藍<br />

可 是 柳 樹 啊 柳 樹 , 微 風<br />

有 多 麼 想 念 你 呢 ?<br />

Behind so finally they can catch<br />

A glimpse of the blueness of the heavens.<br />

But willows O willows, how much<br />

does the breeze miss you?<br />

所 以 昨 晚 我 做 了 一 個 夢 而 結 果<br />

它 比 鳥 被 排 除 於 兩 棲 爬 行 動 物 學<br />

之 外 還 要 真 實 。 那 曾 經 珠 光 閃 耀 的<br />

室 內 外 牆 現 已 暴 露 於<br />

So last night I had a dream that turned<br />

Out truer than the exclusion of birds<br />

From herpetology. The once nacreous<br />

Facade of an interior is now exposed to<br />

空 氣 中 。 青 苔 蔓 衍<br />

如 在 圓 麵 包 底 層 上 的 綠 色 番 茄 醬<br />

之 後 發 生 的 事 就 不 需 要<br />

想 像 力 了 , 或 更 精 確 點 不 需 要 解 釋 : 生 菜 、<br />

The elements. Mosses spread<br />

Like green ketchup on the bottom buns.<br />

What comes next needs no<br />

Imagination, or rather explanation: lettuce<br />

番 茄 、 漢 堡 肉 餅 、 芝 士 和 酸 瓜 ⋯⋯<br />

我 們 的 日 子 堆 疊 著 , 但 在 這 個 陽 光<br />

燦 爛 的 下 午 , 令 你 流 淚 的 是<br />

洋 蔥 而 不 是 離 別<br />

Tomato, beef patty, cheese and pickles…<br />

Our days piles up, but it is the onions,<br />

Not the departure that makes you<br />

Cry, this sunny afternoon.

CHEEZ<br />

Fiona Smyth

ProTesT<br />

Cem Turgay


Holly Lee<br />

Jing Huang: Pure of Sight – photographs of everyday trivialities are atmospheric, sophisticated<br />

and tender.<br />


The Photograph<br />

coordinated by<br />

Kamelia Pezeshki<br />

Jasmine by Kamelia pezeshki

Travelling Palm<br />

Snapshots<br />

Tamara Chatterjee<br />

France (March, <strong>2022</strong>) – While away, I spent<br />

a bit of time dashing around navigating the<br />

multiple trains culminating in nostalgic<br />

adventures. Seemingly half the population<br />

continued to wear masks though the<br />

mandates were lifted, which offered very<br />

lively experiences, most of mine with the<br />

family giants.

From the Notebooks<br />

(2010-<strong>2022</strong>)<br />

Gary Michael Dault<br />

From the Notebooks, 2010-<strong>2022</strong><br />

Number 152: After Tatlin’s Fishmonger, 1911 (May 25, 2011)

Poem a Week<br />

Gary Michael Dault<br />

Sleepers on the Roof<br />

there are sleepers<br />

on the roof<br />

dogs curled up<br />

in bird nests<br />

cars parked<br />

wheels up<br />

seagulls taken for walks<br />

on leashes<br />

trees shaking<br />

in a rage of rain<br />

tulips under the earth<br />

hoping to stay dark

Celebrate the launch<br />

of three new books by<br />

Gary Michael Dault<br />


The Book of the Poem<br />

Paperback Edition<br />

CAD$35<br />

Order Print-on-Demand paperback edition at BLURB:<br />

https://www.blurb.ca/b/11246718-the-book-of-the-poem<br />

ebook (US$5.00), pdf download. Bonus: access code for read-on-line edition<br />

https://oceanpounds.com/products/bp<br />

This is a Facsimile Edition of “The Book of<br />

the Poem”, a Gary Michael Dault sketch book<br />

from 2017 to 2018. The size of the original<br />

piece is 9.5 x 12 inch (240 x 305 mm), 40<br />

pages, spiral bound.<br />

60 pages, 8.5x11 inch (22x28 cm), paperback, perfect bound<br />

Published by OCEAN POUNDS, <strong>2022</strong><br />

isbn: 978-1-989845-38-7<br />

PAGES from The Book of the Poem are available at OCEAN POUNDS Print Series Program: Each issued<br />

in an edition of five, on 260 g/m Velvet Fine Art Paper. Sheet size: 13 x 9.5 inch. Signed by the artist.<br />

Numbered and with “OP Selection” Blind Stamp.

Still Life Still:<br />

A Book of Vessels<br />

Paperback Edition<br />

CAD$75<br />

Order Print-on-Demand paperback edition at BLURB:<br />

https://www.blurb.ca/b/11244211-still-life-still-a-book-of-vessels<br />

ebook (US$5.00), pdf download. Bonus: access code for read-on-line edition<br />

https://oceanpounds.com/products/bv<br />

164 pages, 8x10 inch (20x25 cm), paperback, perfect bound<br />

Published by OCEAN POUNDS, <strong>2022</strong><br />

isbn: 9781989845363<br />

This is a Facsimile Edition of “A Book of<br />

Vessels”, a Gary Michael Dault sketch book<br />

from 2006-2007. The size of the original<br />

piece is 10.25 x 10.25 inch (260 x 260 mm),<br />

142 pages, spiral bound with covers in thick<br />

cardboard.<br />

PAGES from A Book of Vessels are available at OCEAN POUNDS Print Series Program: Each issued in an<br />

edition of five, on 260 g/m Velvet Fine Art Paper. Sheet size: 13 x 9.5 inch. Signed by the artist. Numbered<br />

and with “OP Selection” Blind Stamp.

The Nearby Faraway: Small<br />

Paintings on Cardboard<br />

Paperback Edition<br />

CAD$95<br />

Order Print-on-Demand paperback edition at BLURB:<br />

https://www.blurb.ca/b/11244181-the-nearby-faraway-small-paintings-oncardboard<br />

ebook (US$5.00), pdf download. Bonus: access code for read-on-line edition<br />

https://oceanpounds.com/products/tnf<br />

220 pages, 8x10 inch (20x25 cm), paperback, perfect bound<br />

Published by OCEAN POUNDS, <strong>2022</strong><br />

isbn: 9781989845356<br />

This book was published on the occasion<br />

of the exhibition “The Nearby Faraway:<br />

Small Paintings on Cardboard”, held at<br />

50 Gladstone Avenue artsalon, Toronto,<br />

in Summer <strong>2022</strong>. This book includes 97<br />

paintings produced by Gary Michael Dault in<br />

between 2004 to 2009.

You might also be interested in these - =<br />

Lee Ka-sing’s photographs on SWANHOUSE,<br />

a two-day visit to Gary and Malgorzata<br />

348 pages, 8x10 inch (20x25 cm) paperback, perfect bound<br />

Paperback edition (CAD$120), order at BLURB<br />

https://www.blurb.ca/b/10946788-swan-house<br />

ebook (US$5.00), download pdf.<br />

https://oceanpounds.com/products/swan-house<br />

A collaboration: Photographs by Lee Ka-sing<br />

/ Haiku by Gary Michael Dault<br />

180 pages, 8x10 inch (20x25 cm) paperback, perfect bound<br />

Paperback edition (CAD$75), order at BLURB<br />

https://www.blurb.ca/b/10947020-time-machine<br />

ebook (US$5.00), download pdf.<br />


The Nearby Faraway: Small Paintings on<br />

Cardboard, an exhibition by Gary Michael<br />

Dault. 50 Gladstone Avenue artsalon in<br />

Toronto. Exhibition runs thru September<br />

17, <strong>2022</strong>. Visit by appointment:<br />

mail@oceanpounds.com<br />

To view the exhibition online<br />

(or purchase):<br />



Double Double studio,<br />

photographs by<br />

Lee Ka-sing<br />

Support and Become a Patreon member of<br />

Double Double studio<br />

https://www.patreon.com/doubledoublestudio<br />

Unlimited access to all read-on-line books,<br />

patrons only contents. Collecting artworks at<br />

discounts.<br />

Patreon Membership: Friend of Double Double ($5), Benefactor Member ($10), Print Collector ($100) Monthly subscription in US currency

An excerpt from<br />

Hana, Picnic, Stones<br />

DOUBLE DOUBLE April edition <strong>2022</strong><br />

Holly Lee<br />

Picnic<br />

Essay, and<br />

photographs from<br />

Shan Hai Jin series<br />

山 海 經<br />

188 pages, 8x10 inches, perfect binding<br />

Paperback edition<br />

(Print-on-demand, direct order from BLURB, CAD $75.00)<br />


Bird with long neck<br />

(Trinity Bellwoods Park 2011)

The park managed to evade concrete invasions. From the ridge of the dog bowl - the<br />

last remnant of the creek ravine within the park, one can see the city tower, devouring<br />

the ravishing sunset and sunrise. Dogs partying unleashed in the pit throughout the<br />

year. In the winter, people go tobogganing. Someone told me they spotted more than<br />

two white squirrels in the snow. I asked which ones? To distinguish the species, albino<br />

squirrels have red eyes, white squirrels have black.<br />

Picnic<br />

I sat on the office chair we brought from Hong Kong with eyes closed. It was used as<br />

a prop for a commercial shot many years ago. Birds outside my window twittering; the<br />

room in front of me melted away. I thought of Robert Frank; he sat watching the sea.<br />

Birds jumping from branch to branch chirping, in Cape Breton. I imagined myself as<br />

Robert Frank so I could hear the sea.<br />

In my mind journey I invent mountains and seas, in parks, in my proximity. It began<br />

in 2010, the first image I saw was a picnic day, BCE 250. A modern age with a dash of<br />

antiquity.<br />

Faint commotion, tiny buzzing activities! I need a loupe to see what’s in there and<br />

who’s doing what. Three people were sitting on the right. Wasn’t this scene Manet’s<br />

picnic on the Grass? Wrong, the name of the famous painting is Luncheon on the<br />

Grass. Manet painted it in 1863. Picnic on the Grass is the name of an oil painting on<br />

Saatchi Art, by a 21st century painter Igor Zhuk. He was born in Kyiv, Ukraine - the<br />

capital most talked-about now because of the war. In my picture, in Manet’s, and in<br />

Igor’s, they all show a group of three people sitting, either gazing towards the viewer,<br />

or engaging in their own conversation. It is a fine day for picnicking. These sediments<br />

settled and coalesced into the organic churning of my mind, part primeval, part close<br />

range. Reality is in a state of flux. I pluck a point in time like plucking the string of a<br />

harp.<br />

Here, along the grass where the three people were sitting, a creek was once flowing.<br />

It stretched the length of the park and flowed beneath a bridge. The creek had since<br />

long dried up and the bridge was dismantled, buried up in the same spot. A little down<br />

south is the buried foundations of a college, a Gothic-Revival architecture built more<br />

than a century and a half ago.<br />

I sat in front of the computer fully immersed. I could keep on digging, repeating the<br />

dull work of an archeologist and still finding things. I was led to a website where a<br />

LIVE-NFT button was blinking, luring me to push. I ignored it, resisting this to be my<br />

future. Universe, multiverse, metaverse. Virtual reality is not just mimicking our world;<br />

it is gradually taking over. Despite legions of phenomenal thinkers, it is still confusing<br />

to step into the future. Does spirituality need to be redefined? Would it become God,<br />

this powerful superintelligence that qualitatively far surpasses all human intelligence?<br />

This singularity, is he God?<br />

Quieting down my fear for the future, I return to some of my photographs of the parks;<br />

revaluing their significance, contemplating their resemblance to realistic landscape<br />

paintings. They look calm, insipid and uneventful. But some genies seem to be lurking<br />

behind the scenes. Zooming back to fifty years, a hundred or a thousand years, these<br />

landscapes buried countless anonymous stories that never passed down, nor made<br />

marks on the same patches they are now standing on. I close my eyes; I roll back and<br />

forth the office chair I am sitting on, freeing my mind to do the traveling. In a eureka<br />

moment I fly over mountains and valleys, rivers and seas, arriving at cloud cuckoo<br />

land; places where myths live, die, and begin. I see a flock of gold-shedding birds<br />

flying past the woods; a glowing object moving closer to another; giant bird with a long<br />

neck; summer through winter, a structure with five basketball hoops waiting for a team<br />

to score.<br />

I lift my head and squint my eyes at ten scorching suns, waiting for the archer. The<br />

blinding light, the searing suns! I duck and collapse into the minuscule of being. I hear<br />

sweet birds sing outside my window. The room, now big, now small, opens all doors to<br />

the ocean. On the spur of the moment, I understand the birds’ language.<br />

history, mythology<br />

slip by<br />

under our gaze, every Day -

A Picnic Day, BCE 250<br />

(Trinity Bellwoods Park 2010)

A flock of gold-shedding birds flying past the woods<br />

(High Park, 2010)

Under the management of Ocean and Pounds<br />

Since 2008, INDEXG B&B have served curators, artists,<br />

art-admirers, collectors and professionals from different<br />

cities visiting and working in Toronto.<br />

INDEXG B&B<br />

48 Gladstone Avenue, Toronto<br />

Booking:<br />

mail@indexgbb.com<br />


Hooray! Your file is uploaded and ready to be published.

Saved successfully!

Ooh no, something went wrong!