Most of the time our interiors are hidden from others. One can see glimpses of our interiors through our windows as we can see into theirs. Such views are selective and incomplete in that they only reveal a small portion of one’s interior spaces and the lives lived there. Here I have digitally altered a view from a downtown high-rise condominium complex to reveal to the viewer some of my own family’s interior spaces. Still, the view is curated and some of the many “rooms” are closed to outside view.

Looking Out Looking In, 2023
Deborah Lougheed Sinclair, ASA
Digital Image
24 in. x 18 in.

Anyone who has visited a traditional circus has probably experienced the fun confusion of the old time House of Mirrors. Today in a museum visitors can be seen moving through a maze of panels that has their image reflected from surface to surface. Unlike the interior that uses the mirror to expand the feel of its space, these mirrors can also cause the illusion of a restricted confusing space.

House of Mirrors, 2023
E Ross Bradley, ASA
Archival Digital Print
14.5 in. x 21 in.

There is something magical about an old traditional theatre. Even if it has been updated, it still carries the history of decades if not centuries of tradition. After almost 3 years of Covid these elegant old structures are brushing of the cobwebs and opening their doors to new audiences looking for the experience and excitement of live theatre.

House of Mirrors, 2023
E Ross Bradley, ASA
Archival Digital Print
20 in. x 15 in.

“An old wooden house out on the prairie that is falling down. A still common, but disappearing scene. In this house the evidence of life remains—the disintegrating chair. This must have been the living room. This house was once alive with a family. They were probably hard working, all contributing to making the farm a success. Hopefully it was. Soon this interior will disappear as the house completely collapses. Somewhere there probably are still some folk who can tell stories about the life in this home, with the comfy chair in the living room.”

A Family Lived Here, 2023
Jack Blair, ASA
Photography
21 in. x 30 in.

“The building architecture at the University of Saskatchewan includes classic buildings from the early 1900’s and well-designed present-day buildings. In the enclosed centre courtyard of the modern Agriculture building a man sits on a bench in perpetuity. He waits for anyone and everyone. Behind him the glassed-in yet exposed elevator whisks students to their next class. Quiet moments are not common here, but this is one of them.”

AI Will Wait for You, 2023
Jack Blair, ASA
Photography
30 in. x 24 in.

Personal interiors are private; hidden from the outside world until expressed through thoughts and behaviours. A standard screening test for cognitive assessment is the clock drawing test, where the person is asked to draw a simple clock face and to set the time as 11:10. The image shared exposes the interior functioning of an everyday task. We can lose ourselves to another reality that is interpreted by others as confusion and perhaps dementia. I knew this person for a lifetime as who she presented to the world. Now, living with dementia, she has a life known only to her expressed with a ready smile and a song.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow, 2023
Mary Whale, ASA
Watercolour
15 in. x 20 in. 

The work attempts to exist between conceptual art and home decor. The fabric featured in the piece is from a 1970’s colonial revival couch, and the wood carving references the aesthetics of Canadian kitsch. The LED strip surrounding the carving recalls lit signage. The artist is interested in regional domestic spaces related to mining and how they illustrate and conform to the imaginary of our Canadian petroculture, her practise is informed by having spent her formative years in Fort McMurray, Alberta, a city known for its proximity to the Canadian oil sands.

Living Room Decor, 2022
Megan Green
Sculpture
30 in. x 18 in. x 2.5 in.

“I seek to depict figures with interior worlds that are inaccessible to the viewer. In this diptych, a woman is surrounded by warm light and colour, but she is engrossed by her screen. For me, interiors can be lonely spaces, where we spend time by ourselves, glued to technology. Despite the brightness around her, the woman is invested with a certain melancholy, a sense that her world is both rich and opaque, a mystery to the viewer. I strive to create paintings that leave space between the painted figures and the viewer – a space for reaction, connection and emotion. “

Lit Up (Dyptich), 2022
Megan Klak
Oil paint on paper
14.6 in. x 11 in. 

“This is It?”, is an introspective piece detailing my personal mental interior environment when struggling with depression. It explores a thoughtful juxtaposition of hopelessness and mundane optimism in questioning the restricting bounds of my outlook on life. The contending values of finding comfort in the sadness and a desperate desire for something new.

This is it?, 2022
Olivia Shegelman
Digital Printed on Paper
8 in. x 11. in

In the last few years, there has been an unprecedented series of advancements in the practical use of artificial intelligence (AI) in many industries such as the field of Art and Design. Invertigo, a collaborative mixed-media work, is a hand-built collage that employs imagery created using two different text-to-image AI services (Midjourney and DALL-E 2). Invertigo is an exploration of AI as a new source of strangeness in our world, and speaks to the impact that technological advancements are having on the lives and work of visual artists.

Invertigo, 2023
Pam Baergen
Mixed Media on Panel
10 in. x 10 in.

Trinity is an attempt to work through abuse and emotional scarring by objectifying the wound as a person and a print. By making the pain external to the self, hopefully, the interior might heal.

Trinity, 2020
Rob Furr
Digital/Mixed Media

28 in. x 28 in.

In “Sinking,” the bed is explored as a deeply personal interior space that can evoke complex emotions, particularly during grief, illness and disability. Common language, such as “bed rest,” “sick bed,” and “bedridden,” capture the bed’s dual nature as both a refuge for rest, and recovery, but also a place of confinement, restlessness, and isolation.

Sinking, 2021
Savannah Tries
Digital Image
9.5 in. x 9.5 in.

Of all the spaces in a house, the bed is perhaps the most intimate. It is an interior sanctuary where we rest, reflect, and reach for the parts of ourselves that we keep hidden. It’s a space of vulnerability, introspection, and memories, where nostalgia and dreams reside.

Reaching, 2021
Savannah Tries
Digital Image
9.5 in. x 9.5 in.

Semidetached homes are like identical twins. Similar on the outside, with vastly differing interiors.

“Semidetached” is inspired by Ibeji, the Orisha (Yoruba Deity) of twins and duality. Ibeji teaches us that opposites have a lot of similarities and that there is always more than meets the eye.

Semidetached, 2023
Sayo Ajet
Ink and pastel
26 in. x 22 in.

My studio is the most important part of my life. It is my world, a place where I can create. In a small space, paints, paper, brushes, and canvases form the chaos of creation. Time to tidy up. I look to the outside and translate what I see. Humanity is meant to create, not destroy. I’m inspired by Picasso’s “Guernica” and used it as an anti-war symbol for the background, using my favourite painting techniques to keep me hopeful. In the foreground, I placed realistic brushes with bright colours as a reminder of the goodness of creation

My Studio, 2023
Simon Wong
Ink, colour on rice paper
21.75 in. x 26 in.