Arts - issue 6, volume 125 — February 12, 2007 — burning bridges since 1965.

Marek Bula - Notice and Order

Warren Haas, Peak Staff

About two weeks ago I wouldn’t have pretended to know anything about Marek Bula, and that’s because I didn’t. It seems like a lot of the time when people go to art shows they expect that they are going to gain some sort of insight into an artist’s personality, as if the art is somehow indicative of the personal habits, hobbies, and quirks of the person who created it. But what I found out attending the opening reception for Marek’s solo show Notice and Order at Dadabase on February 2, is that it’s better just to get to know the person responsible. If I could define the whole experience of interviewing Marek and seeing his work, it would probably be “a scream.” Don’t take that too literally, just take it to mean that Marek is a fascinating character.

The pieces on display are all small drawings. There is no real general theme visible, but to give you an idea, they range from a person escaping on a rope ladder attached to a helicopter to two green monster-like characters having a sword fight. A lot of Marek’s work is flat-out funny. You will look at it and laugh, even though you might not be sure if you are in on the joke. And I guess that’s what makes some people want to get to know the person behind the art, they want to know if the work was intentionally funny, and if the artist is funny in person.

Nowadays it seems that when we want to find out anything about a person’s personality, we just check to see if they are a member of one of the various online networking sites. I figured this would be more effective than trying to derive meanings from Marek’s art, so I found his MySpace profile and questioned him about that instead.

Sometimes just talking to an artist can make you realise that they are obviously the one responsible for the work. Marek’s work is funny, and so is he. When I conducted an interview with him during his show’s opening night, our conversation topics ranged from his love of poker, to his distaste for Toronto, to the first time he flew a plane. And the thing is, that conversation shed more light on him than questioning him about his art probably would have.

How else would I know that Marek plays in both online poker games and in person at casinos because he doesn’t “like losing $10,000 in [his] pajamas. It feels awkward.” Or that he tries to move out east every fall only to move back when it gets cold. For instance, when he moved to Montreal his explanation for returning to Vancouver was “[i]t got cold. I slipped on some ice and fell in a puddle and it really made me mad. So I booked a plane back to Vancouver that same day.” Hearing these stories come from Marek makes you sort of appreciate exactly why his art is both bizarre and enduring.

When asked about his art, specifically a drawing that depicts a pizza stabbing a piece of chicken, Marek states, “Well, you know, if you had the choice between a barbequed chicken and a stuffed crust pizza, which one would you take?” While that makes sense, it only sheds light on the artist’s food preferences. But maybe that is all we need to know.

What matters is that Marek’s art is good, because it actually entertains you. If you aren’t going to an art show to be entertained, why are you going anyway?

Talking to Marek produces the realisation that he has a very subtle wit that can be hard to catch if you’re not paying attention. The same thing can be said about his art. When you look at his drawings you might stop and snicker at something that is actually pretty funny when you think about it. And it’s not necessarily some straightforward joke, it could just be a silly premise for a drawing, or the expression on one of his character’s faces.

Trying to derive meanings from Marek’s art is just as difficult as getting him to talk about it. When given the chance to voice his final thoughts he let a friend talk: “I believe that his art truly symbolises the turnality of mankind. We all realise we’re going to get there one day. But only Marek out of all of us can truly see it.” And what does Marek have to say about that? “That sounds good. It sounds really good.” His friend agrees: “It sounds fucking awesome.” (Please note that sarcasm doesn’t always translate well into a transcribed conversation.)

To end on a question about his art would be to take away from the whole purpose of the kind of interview I was trying to conduct, as all I wanted to do was try to get to know ‘the man behind the art.’ Besides, the conversation shifted back to Marek’s poker playing anyway. “I win and lose. There’s a lot of up and downs in poker . . . But there’s some good to come out of it. Before I came out here I won $10,000 playing internet poker in a few days. And if I hadn’t lost all that money back, I probably wouldn’t be having an art show right now.”