Have you ever thought about what goes into a hotdog really thought about it? After visiting The Lions Share, an exhibition at the AV整氈窒 Art Gallery by Rita McKeough, you might think twice. And if you venture behind the Goldberg Computer Science Building, Ron Benners garden, titled Trans/mission: Insubstantial Equivalence, could prompt you to question the provenance of your next cob of corn.
At first glance, McKeoughs exhibition resembles any other diner: a dozen tables each with two chairs, decorations on the walls, hotdogs and fried eggs waiting on plates for hungry patrons, an aquarium filled with fish, from which to select dinner even a set of swinging doors leading to a kitchen.
Look a little closer, however, and youll see the table legs were carved to fine points, and theres a pile of similar wooden spears to be used instead of forks. The milk, eggs and hotdogs are all handmade from industrial materials by the artist, and the fish are made of wood ( fish sticks, anyone?). In the kitchen, youll have to stare down a madly clucking hen to place an order.
Both [McKeoughs and Benners works] are fun commentaries about a serious problem: our industrial food system, and the inequalities and harm within it, says Elizabeth Fitting, associate professor in the Department of Sociology and Social Anthropology.
McKeoughs work in particular is like a fun house, she continues. The sticks and the hotdogs, the hysterical chicken who cant produce eggs fast enough to keep up with the orders shes actually having a nervous breakdown because of the demands placed on her.
Its very surreal, Dr. Fitting elaborates. It reflects how surreal the food system is, and how disconnected we are from the sources of our food. What is a hotdog, these days, anyway? The spears present a contrast between how humans were in past, as hunters and gatherers, to today, as consumers of overly processed meat products, whose origins we have no idea about.
Hotdogs have been around for a while: they first appeared in Frankfurt, Germany just over 500 years ago. Back then, however, people were aware of what when into them. Other Western convenience foods cheezies, say, or pizza pockets might be the kinds of things Dr. Fitting is thinking of when she paraphrases author Michael Pollan: We should ask ourselves a question about the foods we buy and consume: would what were choosing to eat be recognizable as food to our great-grandmothers?
How does your hybrid garden grow?
In the summer, Dr. Fitting spoke with Ron Benner about his garden installation behind the Goldberg Computer Science Building, in the centre of which are rows of hybrid maize. For those not in the know: hybrid corn is made when two varieties "each of which have been inbred to the point of genetic uniformity," says Dr. Fitting are planted together and the pollen of one is allowed to fertilize the flowers of another (a process that can happen naturally via bees). However, like with genetically modified (GM) seed, large commercial companies control the process; and consequently, they own the seed.
The commercial seed doesnt self-propagate, and because second-generation hybrids have a lower yield, farmers interested in maintaining a high yield have to buy it from the company, as opposed to using the open-pollenating varieties, Dr. Fitting confirms. Benner is not just [commenting on] the commercialization, the commodification of food, but of living things, of life.
Near the hybrid maize is a natural garden featuring native North American plants, including traditional varieties of maize. Behind are hung photos of plants in the Ethnobotanical Garden in Oaxaca, Mexico. To Dr. Fitting, this demonstrates a contrast between the mono-cropping of the industrial food system versus the very bio-diverse practices that used to characterize the worlds agricultural production, and that are still key characteristics in places like Mexico.
Benner also organized a corn roast in September, which to Dr. Fitting is another way of saying that corn is more than a just commodity in places like Mexico. The roast represents a connection to the land, and its also about being social the sense of community that we get through food.
And clearly, one can also understand McKeoughs faux diner installation as a comment on industrial food and social practices. Yet this message isnt force-fed, so to speak: the installation features no didactic or interpretive panels hinting at either materials or meaning.
Dinner conversation
Dr. Fitting says this approach could help encourage dialogue about the food system. I think its less intimidating for people not familiar with the language of art galleries or art history. Theyre freer to talk about their reactions. And I think the artist wants to spark a conversation shes asking people to think critically about the industrial food system. Thats a strong message. Not every critique has to be presented in the same way.
Food systems and consumption habits are near and dear to Dr. Fittings heart: she teaches food-themed courses, including Food Activism next semester. McKeoughs installation, she believes, could be a valuable teaching tool: Id pick up on a couple of themes certainly the sense of alienation and disconnect.
From there, Dr. Fitting says she would talk about cultural theories and panic and anxiety around food, as a characteristic of the industrial food system. As well, shed highlight the title, The Lions Share, to get students to think about inequities at different scales the household, the community, the region, the country, and globally. Whats being presented in the show is that we as humans around the globe and particularly in the global north are taking more than our share of resources.
Its a depressing topic, she says. But rather than just educating about the serious problem of our industrial food system, both Benners and McKeoughs work offers playful contrasts.
I would love for students to go see it, she concludes. If anybody hasnt seen [the diner or the garden] yet, they really should!