DANIEL LASKARIN

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTE:

After a career as a helicopter pilot/engineer, I turned to the visual arts which now seems to be a field of equal, if dissimilar, danger. My practice is object based, materially and philosophically rooted; much of this work investigates the ways in which art can generate the sensory experience of consciousness. Some of the work does entirely other things. Understanding that the "expanded field" is blown utterly apart, I make things that stay together, that find their own order in a condition of disorder, and that at the same time refuse that which orders everything. I sometimes incorporate photography and video, optics, robotics systems, installation and sound and have been involved with set design, public image projections and several large-scale public commissions. I have exhibited in Canada and internationally, and currently teach at the Department of Visual Arts at the University of Victoria in Western Canada.

A STATEMENT:

I am a body. I know and I don't know what that is, so I make things, other bodies
I make these as artworks, as a way of embedding myself in material thought.
This is a way of thinking about things, about the landscape we inhabit, or sometimes thinking itself. I make works as an effort to try to make present the ephemera of life and thought (“Do you see what I mean?”).

Some works are about how we see while all my works have some part of that concern as a foundation. Some works look at something, others are thought of as a precondition for something else, the way a worktable might be a precondition for a project. Until we imagine the possibility of something otherwise, we will not be able to make things better

I make things with a consciously formed condition, or a shared condition with the world.
The way that things are made is important: highly finished connections may be combined with things barely held together. Similarly, the ways that things meet their surroundings are important: they may be solid, or balanced, connected or propped, secure or precarious. The ways that things are finished may reveal or mask their making.

I use the stuff of the world around me – industrial materials and processes, natural materials, found and fabricated things. The works are often put together like a self on the edge of stability – their particular identity comprised of things, partly given, partly found, partly willed, partly material genetics, partly context.

These things are tools for imagining, even when I do not know what might yet be imagined.