quivering light is interrupted by fluttering darkness.
filtered through the leaves of a shivering tree.
shadows gyrate to the rhythm of the wind.
except when the resemblance is nothing more than a farce.
historically the cuculoris pays homage to the dappled but not to the tree.
but here we make a space to gaze intently, a space to be hosted as welcome.
cuculoris, a time machine for shadows, is an exhibition that meanders the momentariness of light. There’s a window now where it once was forgotten. A partition and then another. A shadow of patterns cast by a cuculoris to the resemblance of dappled light permeating tree limbs. Beyond the shadows, a faux form of foliage obstructs the glass. There is a glass carboy of spring water dabbling in a chance of trust. It’s litres collected from a spring at the base of a mountain. Collected to convey a sense of care or at least gregarious hospitality.
Nicole Kelly Westman is a visual artist of Métis and Icelandic descent. She grew up in a supportive home with strong-willed parents—her mother, a considerate woman with inventive creativity, and her father, an anonymous feminist. Her work culls from these formative years for insight and inspiration. Westman holds a BFA from Emily Carr University and is currently too nomadic to be based in any one region. Her writing has been published in Inuit Art Quarterly, C Magazine and Luma Quarterly.