HISTORICAL GROUNDING
Only the
message flies
with Robert
Saucier

MARCUS MILLER

W

alking into the small gallery
at Circa triggers a curious
robotic
vehicle
that's
attached to the post in the middle of
the room. A strange-sounding voice
reads newspaper headlines as the
vehicle slowly spirals its way around
the post. When the cable that connects
it to the post is completely wound up
and it can't move any farther, it simply
reverses direction, unwinds and spirals
the other way - over and over and over
again.
This installation, still can'tfly,brings
together the anachronistic technological models of the artist's 80s' nieces,
and the otherworldly look of his more
recent work. The overwhelming

Techno a go go, gone
profusion of references; meant to
confound historically entrenched
rnyths and rigid truths, has been pared
down to an analog of futility.
A beautiful little thing, the vehicle is
an odd amalgam of renaissance-like
invention and high-tech design. Cool,
precisely finished, steel components
make up a purpose-built, curved body
that rides on an inexplicable number of
wheels. Actually there are 12 of them
(far too many for a vehicle this size);
they are ail different, and they all
overlap. As can be expected from this
artist, the finesse of workmanship is
impressive, but in this relatively
humble piece, it doesn't overwhelm.
Apparently both of Saucier's

grandfathers were blacksmiths, and
having grown up in New Brunswick, he
had the opportunity to use the old
forge behind the farmhouse, making all
kinds of things that had no immediate
purpose.
Obviously his skills and interest in
making were established and coddled
from an early age. A UQAM graduate,
hefirstgained notoriety in the 80s with
work characterized by its ambitious
scale, almost fetishistic attention to
detail and the insistent use of
outmoded technological icons. Models
of old locomotives, ships, dirigibles,
famous buildings and mediaeval
armour all made their way into roomsized installations that looked like

Hour, Historical grounding, Marcus Miller, page 45, 13-19 mai 1999

visions dreamt up by demented model
railroaders.
More recently however, his work has
dropped its model-like aspect, as well as
its direct references. A new family of
disfopian machines emerged in the 90s,
the exact pedigree or purpose of which
was highly ambiguous. Still fabricated
with an astonishing degree of
craftsmanship, they did however, retain
their multi-layered complexity.
in still can't fly, the profusion of parts
and metaphorical links that always gave
Saucier's work a stupefying baroque
density has given way to a more
minimal approach. Here, you don't feel
as if there are reams of details to sift
through before the bigger picture
emerges. You walk into the room, the

machine starts moving/talking, and you
get it - all at once.
This isn't to imply any sacrifice of
effect, or meaning, or even of ambiguity. In fact, a greater clarity and
force seems to be the result. The
critique of technology, previously
accomplished through its reduction to
outmoded models and the contradictory layering of historical paradigms,
emerges here as clear statement of
human and technological folly. The
instantaneous apprehension of the
constituent parts resolves itself here, in
a meditation on the Sisyphian character of our existence. •
still can't fly, Circa,
372 Ste-Catherine W, #444, until May 15