Peter Sramek
On the occasion of the 25th Year of Gallery 44
A history might record Simon and I on an escalator at the Canadian Perspectives Photography Conference and my saying we should form a group to share production space. It would then begin with the first meeting of interested photographers from OCA on an evening in 1979.
At one point we decided to rent a plumbing showroom at 44 Dovercourt and in order to have a bank account we needed a name. We became Photo 44. The landlord changed his mind.
It was a simple twist that Gord Barnes found the space at 109 Niagara Street and moved into part of it allowing us to afford the lease. Others from the class at OCA came in while some of the original group had divergent plans. Most later became non-renting members in the Participating category we created for them. In fact we never really were simply a shared workspace. Each of the 14 or so original darkroom members put in $50 to build the darkroom.
For me, the notion of collectivity came from a leftist political stance extending to a vision of how artists could work together rather than in isolation. Photo 44 first created darkrooms and studio, later adding the exhibition program. Our early meetings were informal affairs, a mix of business, looking at work and potluck dinners. We worked by consensus. Eventually, the business and discussion sessions were separated.
Even at the beginning we had some thought of a public presence. It was the decision to run a gallery which moved this forward. We were committed to showing interdisciplinary works – photography combined with printmaking, collage, artist books, painting, projection, installation and sculpture. We strove to bridge the gap between ‘straight’ photography and the rest of the arts community.
There are so many memories. One could drown in pages of detail or simply sink into nostalgia, but what would be the point? Maybe history is what others learn about later and decide is important to pass on. It must always be rediscovered and rewritten. The building at 109 is still there.
Possible Histories – Gallery 44 – 2005
Possible Histories,
How might we construct a record from our lives? Is history what we remember? If so, then there is too much – such a myriad of details, moments and exchanges. And what a complexity of personal paths has intertwined to make the institutional history of Gallery 44. How can one make sense of the many chance events and decisions and their irrelevance to the trajectory of the larger body? Is creating history the act of disentangling the causalities and reconciling unruly memories into generalities? Which details does one choose to record? Recorded history must be haphazard at best.
or is it the Possibility of History,
Alt/rough photographs record a particular instant, the threads of meaning become almost invisible and this, despite the aura – the yellowed, bent-cornered nostalgia of an old print in the hands of the dreamer. In fact, photographs quickly lose their identity. What may have been a common reading shifts from certainty to fit into the perspectives of future commentators and viewers. Memories, for their part, cling to moments and gestures rather than grand schema. Both miss tire mark of history. By themselves they give detail without context. History can use them as illustrations, but not as proof. What I have long held to be the truth of past events melts away into doubt when examined and put into words. The sequence becomes uncertain. Do I really remember who was there and what they did? What do others remember? Each of us who has participated in the legacy of Gallery 44 has stories, and versions of stories.
or Possibly a History?
History changes over time. As if taking a snapshot, the writer of history chooses what to include but, to complicate things, does so while sitting in the present. Details fall into place to support the texts and subtexts. Each telling is partial. In 1979, we chose the second floor showroom of the old coffin factory at 109 Niagara Street to be the first home of Photo 44. Also presented in this series are 5 locations which might have been. This is trivia known to almost none and certainly of no importance. And yet, what if we had rented 44 Dovercourt or Marty Millionaire’s Annex? So many little details led us to where we are in the present. Which ones are significant? Which should be remembered? Which ones make for a history? Maybe history is whatever others later know or discover and decide is important to record. Maybe maintaining a history is simply a process of rephrasing what has not been forgotten.
Peter Sramek, June 2005