On the door of 4450, rue De Bullion, in Montreal, a very discreet poster. “This is not a museum, open. »
When I opened the door to this house, I didn’t expect to set foot in a vaguely disturbing dream. And I expected even less to meet two retired architecture professors with whom I would do anything to become friends.
Natalija Subotincic, 64, and Mark West, 71, lived in Ontario, the United States, Turkey, Chile and Winnipeg, before choosing Montreal six years ago. Firstly because it is “the best city in North America”. Then because they wanted to find a house that could be open to the public. Something accessible, on the ground floor, in a vibrant neighborhood.
They found the nugget on the Plateau Mont-Royal.
Since last April, every Saturday, half of their home is finally open to everyone. Large red velvet curtains separate the space; on one side, their lair; on the other, an exhibition room. Their permit clearly states: it is an artists’ studio that can accommodate visitors, not a museum. Hence the name of the establishment, This is not a museum.
But between you and me, it’s just like…
Space is fascinating. There are paintings as beautiful as they are strange, dioramas that let us see luminous and intriguing worlds, sculptures (my favorites are three rabbit carcasses dressed in white dresses) and a cabinet of curiosities inspired by Freud’s Viennese office.
“I have 1000 questions. »
Mark invites me to go to the other side of the house to chat over tea. I then see their own space: a studio loaded with books, materials and works.
My excitement (already in great shape) increases tenfold when I sit at the kitchen table and discover that it is made of chicken bones…
“Nada collected bones from everything she ate for seven years,” slips Mark, as if it were commonplace.
One day, Natalija Subotincic wondered why she threw away what was left on her plate, when those bones were so beautiful. She took taxidermy classes, learned how to clean up her leftovers and decided to keep them. She then arranged anatomically (from skull to tail) all the chicken bones, under glass. It became a table.
Then, she started collecting small branches. The ones that no one looks at, on the ground. As her meat consumption drastically decreased, she turned to what she calls vegan taxidermy. This is how the magnificent hunting trophies found in his cabinet of curiosities were born. The animal heads are made of fabrics dipped in water putty. The woods are the branches carefully guarded by the artist. The result is astonishingly poetic.
“I want this piece to be a cross between the internal world, the psyche and the external world,” she explains to me. Hence the numerous references to Sigmund Freud that can be observed there.
In her research, Natalija Subotincic explored a little-known aspect of the psychoanalyst: her passion for art. Freud kept 2,300 works carefully organized in his workplace.
Natalija obtained a grant which allowed her to measure the psychoanalyst’s office in Vienna and its furniture, exhibited in London. In the museum, the artists’ studio open to the public, you can see the plans she made to recreate the arrangement of the works in space, based on the data collected and archive photos. She deplores the fact that art historians have until now been interested in individual pieces, rather than looking at the collection as a whole. “Freud has been working for 42 years. That tells us more about him than his books, in my opinion! »
Natalija Subotincic wrote articles and gave lectures on this subject, then she had the idea of bringing together Freud’s obsessions and her own. Result ? The office in his house. Worth seeing, really.
Mark West has been drawing since childhood. What he exhibits here is mainly collage, a method that allows him to “do without knowing what he will do”. The outcome is revealed throughout the creation, reserving surprises for the artist. I particularly like his dioramas – illuminated boxes presenting scenes – which play on the border between abstraction and realism. One of them evokes an alley at night, another construction work, another winter. They are tributes to Montreal.
But nothing is absolutely clear, between the velvet curtains. The imagination is challenged and interpretation is free. I like this sentence, gleaned from the couple’s website: “ This is not a museum is also a wonderful universe for children who will perhaps be able to explain everything to you. »
Who comes in here, exactly?
Between two and ten people per day, Natalija Subotincic answers me. Passers-by, fundamentally curious people. The couple has made no publicity, their home is a well-kept secret reserved for those who observe their surroundings enough to notice the poster on the door.
As I speak with the artists, three people around 20 enter. Their face shows a mixture of happiness and astonishment. They love what they discover.
“It’s a gift,” Mark responds spontaneously, when I ask him what he hopes to see his house become. We want to make people happy and allow them to connect with each other. »
If you knew how much joy the existence of such people fills me… What would life be without artists to transform our homes into worlds of possibilities, rally communities or make us see our leftover chicken differently?
I’d rather not think about it.
* Notice to visitors: the artists are English-speaking, but the on-site display is in French and English.