On the heels of our record-breaking success with monumental works from the Collection of John and Joyce Price, including a striking large-scale drawing by Tim Pitsiulak and the dynamic Two Men Fighting by Mathew Aqigaaq, I find myself reflecting on the intriguing ways we negotiate space as collectors. The spaces we inhabit often evolve into living galleries, shaped by the works we gather. My own apartment in Toronto’s east end, though modest in size, has become a reflection of this transformation. Nearly every surface where there can be art, there is art. It’s a balancing act, finding room for new acquisitions without tipping into chaos, but it’s one I embrace wholeheartedly.
Like my apartment, my own collection is also modest size, shaped less by strict guidelines and more by a sense of curiosity. Some of you might recall my fascination with esoteric works that give me the distinct pleasure of encountering the unexpected. Beyond works appealing to a part of my brain that revels in the offbeat, each work must pass a simple but rigorous test to earn its place: it must be “hand-sized.”
The term, entirely of my own invention, is practical. A “hand-sized” artwork is precisely what it claims to be: a masterful distillation of artistic vision that fits, more or less, comfortably in the palm of one’s hand. Compact works compress extraordinary sculptural and visual ingenuity into just a few inches.
What makes these carvings so compelling to me is the way their scale invites us into the process of their creation. Imagining the artist steadying their material in one hand while carving with the other evokes the very act of making. The portability of these works encourages engagement; to cradle a small work in one’s palm, to turn it over and examine it from every angle, is to marvel at its inherent three-dimensionality and charm. These are objects meant to be held and understood as tactile as well as visual experiences.
No one captured this appeal better than Pearl McCarthy, the esteemed Globe and Mail art columnist. In her October 1957 review of a Canadian Handicraft Guild exhibition, McCarthy wrote: “All pieces should be judged not by a style but by how hard it is for the visitor to obey the request: ‘Please do not handle’” [1]. Her words capture the magnetic allure of small sculptures, objects that almost seem to demand interaction, even when decorum insists otherwise.
We invite you to visit us at 1 William Morgan Drive by appointment and experience the irresistible charm of these “hand-sized” works. Hold them, marvel at their detail, and see for yourself how they bridge the intimate relationship between maker and viewer, between hand and eye.
1. Pearl McCarthy, “Eskimo Carvings Developing,” The Globe and Mail (Toronto), 29 October 1957, p. 13.