Glenn Kubish

There is a terrifyingly beautiful feeling waiting for me in the Rockies. Quite what it is I have never been able to make stand still. It sometimes feels like merciful obliteration. I mean, the Rocky Mountains take no notice of those passing through, need nothing from those passing through. They are a quiet, powerful other. * By contrast, the urban landscape makes demands of me. It orders me to read this sign, read that billboard, read this digital screen. Read, read, read. And that reading makes noise in my head. And being the reader, I am tricked into believing the messages need me. In the mountains, there is no such fraud in the quiet trees.                                                                  ********                             ...

At the intersection of Albert and Elgin in Ottawa, just outside the National Arts Centre, is a figure portrait, the work of Ruth Abernethy, in honour of the music and personality of Canadian jazz great Oscar Peterson. Seeing it is an unexpected thrill, even in a city full of stunning statues, plaques, carved words.  Turn up the volume on your computer, and take a look, listen at something different. It demands that you notice and contemplate Peterson's joy. His is not the carved face of a typical Father of Confederation, a prime minister, a judge or any other citizen hero.  Really, how many sculptors have the courage to capture their subjects in anything but the most severe, stern, awful facial expressions? I don't disparage those works. I'm just glad this is different, and that bronze has been taught to smile. I think Peterson has just finished playing something live and has turned to accept the applause of the audience. But he also seems to be contemplating tha...