Feasting on Femininity: The Interpretations of ‘Girl Dinner’ by Emerging Artists

Toronto’s Abbozzo Gallery centres their second annual group exhibition after “Girl Dinner,” where seven emerging artists portray girlhood through their different interpretations

By Neda Madany

Inside the "Girl Dinner" Emerging Artists Exhibition at the Abbozzo Gallery (Neda Madany/CanCulture)

Pasta brought back from Sunday’s dinner party, with a cup of grapes and half a stalk of celery left over from this afternoon’s lunch.One of the infinite possible recipes for “Girl Dinner.” Sharing unconventional combinations of food to create a low-effort dinner sparked one of TikTok’s most honest and relatable trends. 

“This is my meal, I call this girl dinner,” from TikTok user @karmapilled, is a sound that plays in the background of thousands of girls sharing what they pieced together in their kitchens hassle-free. 

Taking inspiration from the emergence of girl trends on social media and its manifestation into the real world, the Abbozzo Gallery’s second annual group exhibition showcased the work of seven artists and their interpretations of girlhood. 

The combined group of artists and their separate art mediums are “meant to echo the delightful varieties that make up a quintessential girl dinner,” according to the Abbozzo Gallery. 

“Girl Dinner” identified a relatable phenomenon that girls didn’t even know was shared by other girls, while still allowing for variation, as no two meals are the same. The widespread relatability rooted in the trend broadened the horizons for sharing experiences of girlhood via social media that embraces more girl-centred trends and feminist conversations. 

View of the “Girl Dinner” exhibition at Abbozzo Gallery (Neda Madany/CanCulture)

The invitation of the playful and satirical “Girl Dinner” trend being transformed into art pieces called Katie Butler to participate in the exhibit. “I really like playful details and stuff in art,” she says. The fluctuating and various approaches to “Girl Dinner” and other girl trends instantly opened up artistic ideas for the emerging artist from Ontario.

“Girl Dinner” immediately comes off as light-hearted, but Butler also sees the trend through a critical lens connected with feminism. The scenario of “Girl dinner” happens when a girl is by herself, for herself, and free from external perceptions. The trend suggests that girls will put together minimal meals to serve a basic need. However, Butler questions how much of the food we eat and prepare is performative for other people. 

As intentionally revealing the secret shared phenomena that many girls experience, “‘Girl Dinner’ is very honest about what you might do when other people aren’t looking,” she says. "Girlhood in general is very honest and not performative.” 

Already previously indulged with the theme of girlhood in her artwork, Alana Kinsey sees showcasing softness, femininity and things girls embrace as especially valuable. “I love the idea of exploring and honouring girlhood, especially in this day and age,” Kinsey says. The small girly touches from women everywhere in the world are what her art speaks to. 

“It’s just the everyday little things and how we can make it a little bit more beautiful.”

When Kinsey first encountered the “Girl Dinner” trend, her initial thought was that she was not the only one. “You don’t have to make this big, gourmet meal every night, sometimes you want to have a snack plate,” she says. “Little girly things that we do and make it normal.” 

The difference between moments considered girly versus womanly is a sense of privacy and being unapologetic, Butler explains. “I think that’s what you do when you’re a little girl,” she says. “Before you have that moment where there are things you should be ashamed of.” 

Pity Party by Katie Butler for the “Girl Dinner” exhibition at Abbozzo Gallery (Neda Madany/CanCulture)

A theme that Butler kept in mind while creating her art pieces for the exhibit was feminine indulgence. Pity Party, an acrylic painting by Butler, draws from the emotional indulgence of experiencing sadness. Rather than pitying a woman alone at a bar, Butler intended for her subject to be viewed as overdoing her emotions. Welcoming and indulging herself into the feeling of sadness, similar to watching a sad movie when you’re feeling sad. “That catharsis feels nice,” Butler explains. 

“The glasses in front of her are filled with some kind of ambiguous clear liquid, so you’re not really sure if it’s alcohol,” says Butler, noting a tear from the woman falling into the shot glass. “I like the idea of getting drunk on your emotions,” she adds. “When you’re just intoxicated by sadness.”

Collection of art by Alana Kinsey for “Girl Dinner” exhibition at Abbozzo Gallery (Neda Madany/CanCulture)

Kinseys’ collection of art came from special moments in her life. Taking snippets of her everyday experiences that she finds delightful to relate to others who may also see them as beautiful. The moments gathered together as girls, and the little things that may go unnoticed are things that Kinsey portrays in her art. “Getting ready with your friends to go for a night out, or coffee with friends,” she explains, “Finding the beauty in those little moments that we so easily brush by and forget.”

The sense of unity sparked by girl trends creates new conversations surrounding feminism. “You’re able to talk, bond, and not feel so alone,” says Kinsey. Shared experiences will never be connected unless spoken about. When people relate to something new, “it’s because someone is finally being honest,” says Butler. 

However, although the sense of connection drives girl trends, Butler remembers the danger of a single story. Sharing experiences with diversity from every individual combined “shows the variety that exists within the realm of femininity,” she adds. 

The beauty of sharing girl trends comes from the constant variety of every girl. “Having one view of what you expect from women is dangerous,” says Butler. “If that’s all you see, that’s all that is represented. Then it feeds into people's preconceived notions that women are one thing and not expansive.” 

More Than Art: Multidisciplinary artists feature the “screaming into the void” exhibition for KUUMBA

A collaboration between two multidisciplinary artists explores themes of Black identity

By Ann-Marie Njeru

On The Porch 2023 and Ronnie 2023, by Tiffany J Sutton at the Marilyn Brewer Convention Centre on February 11th, 2024 (CanCulture/Ann-Marie Njeru)

Multidisciplinary artists Aaron Jones and Tiffany J. Sutton collaborated on "Screaming into the Void," an exhibition exploring themes of Black identity, existence and the depth of shared human experiences for the KUUMBA festival. 

Aaron Jones, a Toronto-based artist, is recognized as an image builder who integrates materials such as books, magazines, personal photos and newspapers to forge captivating and unseen realities.

Tiffany J. Sutton is a Missouri-based portrait photographer who focuses on the Black gaze, placing Black femininity at the forefront through complex portraits of exclusively Black women. 

The exhibition featured separate works from both artists, representing the “Screaming into the void” theme of this collaborative process.

"I think screaming into the void meant that we were kind of yelling, we are sort of talking to a wider and whiter audience about the different varieties of Blackness within the community and the culture," said Sutton.

Sutton featured several different portraits of Black women. These photos speak about the community and the complexities they experience.  

Her work uses introspectiveness, abstract portraiture and layering photos to challenge the one-dimensional perception Black women face. She became inspired by her desire to connect more with the Black community and, more specifically, build friendships with Black women. 

Front Yard Trio by Tiffany J. Sutton at the Marilyn Brewer Convention Centre on February 11th, 2024 (CanCulture/Ann-Marie Njeru)

“It’s hard for me to make friends with other Black women for some reason, I just can't seem to manage it. I want to build a relationship, a friendship sort of thing with them and I want to build a community.”

As a Black woman, I feel heard and seen. It is very often that when expressing my emotions, someone treats me as if I can be reduced to a single stereotype; for example, the angry Black woman, a stigma many of us face. 

The overlaying on the portraits shows the complex emotions we deal with daily due to the convoluted lives we lead, all emerging from the challenges of being Black and a woman. It serves as a reminder that Black women are not a stereotype to dissect and are intricate like any other human.

Jones featured an incredible digital image, HARD DREAM, through a fusion of photorealism, whimsical abstraction and surreal fantasy.

HARD DREAM 2024 by Aaron Jones at the Marilyn Brewer Convention Centre on February 11th, 2024 (CanCulture/Ann-Marie Njeru)

The artwork explores the multi-faceted journey that humans experience. It delves into the realm of identity, immigration, spirituality, astral projection and loss and desire.

It includes the properties of Jones's artwork using newspapers, failed digital images and references from his previous work to create this profound and beautiful piece.

Jones’ piece uses a captivating blend of fantasy and science fiction, offering the viewer a deep and introspective experience. 

He invites us to reflect on our journeys and the obscurity of existence, and explore the relationship between nature and humans, nature and self and the natural world. Jones also urges viewers to reflect on ourselves, the challenges we face and how to have a harmonious relationship with nature.

When reflecting on the art piece I explored what nature meant to me and how I see myself as a part of it. As humans, I believe we must be stewards of the Earth which means taking care of nature and the people around us. The piece also speaks to the cycle of life and the co-existence of life in nature.

Turtle 2024, by Aaron Jones at the Marilyn Brewer Convention Centre on February 11th, 2024 (CanCulture/Ann-Marie Njeru)

In Aaron Jones' second work, a turtle shell symbolizes resilience, patience, and timelessness. The turtle's gradual sinking into obscurity represents the challenges faced by those who persevere despite setbacks.

The artwork encourages viewers to reflect on their determination during trying times. Standing alongside the turtle, they can contemplate the never-ending connection between nature and humanity. 

The piece is an emotional reminder of human resilience and our interconnectedness with the natural world. It is part of a broader exhibition that explores the richness and complexity of culture through the works of various artists. This exhibition aims to inspire viewers to reflect on their experiences and the human spirit's capacity for strength.

"Screaming into the Void," highlights a captivating narrative that delves into Afro-futurism and reflects on nature and spirituality. It celebrates the richness and strength of Black culture, celebrating Black women, spirituality and nature. It emphasizes the importance of diverse perspectives and interpretations in art. 

Beyond displaying individual artworks, the exhibition embodies the ongoing spirit of innovation and the boundless potential for creative expression. Both artists do a remarkable job using multimedia elements to expand on their work, showcasing the passion and creativity Sutton and Jones bring to the world of art.

Caroline Monnet Carves, Stitches, and Weaves Anishinaabe History and Language Into Material Form: A Review of Pizandawatc

Caroline Monnet’s recent exhibition reclaims generations-deep ties between land and language in a“love story” dedicated to Quebec’s Outaouais region and the artist’s ancestors. 

By Grace Henkel

Odinimatawak (Blending into one), 2023, by Caroline Monnet (Grace Henkel/CanCulture)

In the dimmed lights of the University of Toronto’s Art Museum, several of Caroline Monnet’s sculptures, rendered in polished oak, maple and cherry wood, seem to emit a soft glow. 

The undulating shapes in the first section of Monnet’s exhibition Pizandawatc are literally whispers of solidified sound and breaths of language that the French-Anishinaabe artist preserves in a tangible form. To create each piece, words and phrases in Anishinaabemowin were recorded and their sound waves were converted into digital 3D images using architectural software, which were then carved out of wood. 

Detail of Odinimatawak (Blending into one), 2023, by Caroline Monnet (Grace Henkel/CanCulture)

“It's proven scientifically that the rhythm of languages and tonalities of different languages is based on topography of the land, " said Monnet.

“I was looking at the Outaouais region, my ancestors' territory, and just starting to think about how we used to name places back in the days and how much knowledge is actually embedded in naming those places and [in] the land as well.” 

She also generated a reverse process, sourcing materials from the land, such as driftwood “that has seen many years and of seasons changing and rain [...] that has transformed over time.” 

Then, Monnet and a software team converted the wood’s digitized shapes into 2D soundwaves. In this way, unique sounds emanate from each piece; the natural world itself speaks. These are layered together in a stirring immersive audio installation at the beginning of Pizandawatc. 

“It's really the direct link between the language we speak and the landscape we occupy,” said Monnet. 

Sculptures Pizandawatc Sagahigan (Lac Celui qui écoute), 2023, Odinimatawak (Blending into one), 2023, Nindanweb apii  dagwaaging (When It’s Fall, I Rest), 2021 and Ikwe origami (Portage de la Femme), 2023 are part of a series combining native and industrial wood that “offer a poetic strategy to reclaim the language and its connection to the land,” according to the exhibition description. 

Detail of a bronze sculpture in the shape of driftwood

Detail of Okikad (tree stump), a bronze sculpture by Caroline Monnet (Grace Henkel/CanCulture)

Detail of a bronze sculpture in the shape of driftwood

Okikad (tree stump), a bronze sculpture in the shape of driftwood by Caroline Monnet (Grace Henkel/CanCulture)

These pieces meditate on wood’s availability to Indigenous peoples as a building material before colonization, while bronze sculptures Okikad (Tree Stump) and Okan (Bone) depict the first copper alloy used by the Anishinaabe.  

The voices behind each recording-turned-sculpture, according to Monnet, are “language keepers or youngsters that are reclaiming the language right now, relearning their language.” 

Pizandawatc, (pronounced pi-ZAHN-dah-watch), is an Anishinaabemowin surname, which translates to “The One Who Listens.” The title honours the artist’s great-grandmother, Mani Pizandawatc, who was the first of Monnet’s ancestors to experience the implementation of the reserve system in Kitigan Zibi, Outaouais region, and the last to bear that surname before the erasure of traditional names was imposed by the Catholic Oblates. 

“I was just thinking, you know, there's a responsibility that comes with that name, and it gives you kind of a direction and you need to be able to listen to the things around you,” said the artist. 

“Within four generations, so much has changed.”

Monnet’s compelling process incorporates not only sound, but construction materials to confront the legacy of settler colonialism and its forcible suppression of the Anishinaabe language.

Closeup of Indigenous designs carved into a plywood board

In Silence We Speak Volumes, 2023, (detail) by Caroline Monnet (Grace Henkel/CanCulture)

An art piece spelling the Anishinaabe word for land, "AKI," with fiberglass insulation hangs in a dim gallery

Monnet’s sculpture AKI hanging in the Art Museum at the University of Toronto (Grace Henkel/CanCulture)

Monnet’s sculpture AKI spells the Anishinaabemowin word for “land” with fiberglass insulation encased in a plexiglass shell. This piece, and others by Monnet like KIWE, or “to go back where it started,” meditate on the disposability of contemporary building materials and the ongoing housing crisis. The words call back to histories of Indigenous land stewardship, in stark contrast to artificial structures evocative of impermanence and waste. 

Though jokingly claiming to love the insulation because “it looks like cotton candy,” the substance holds a darker side for the artist. Monnet employs the fluffy, soft pink matter to convey a disconnect between the housing industry and the natural world from which it extracts its resources. 

“It's just such a nasty material that speaks about the lack of vision from the industry or the Canadian government from trying to build houses that will last for more than 50 years. That can be planned for the next seven generations, for example.”  

A multicoloured embroidered tapestry  hangs in an art gallery

Kà-bimose magak Sibi (The River That Walks), 2023, is an embroidered roof underlayment by Caroline Monnet that celebrates the St. Lawrence river and Anishinaabe nomadic traditions. In the foreground is Mitik (Tree), 2023 addressing the “exploitation of trees” in settler construction practices. (Grace Henkel/CanCulture)

Caroline Monnet’s Wound 03, 2023, is made of Kevlar and adorned with beads (Grace Henkel/CanCulture)

Monnet also utilizes waterproof tarps and air barrier membranes, embroidering the fabric in several artworks that contemplate notions of shelter and habitat in the wake of cultural loss. Many of these pieces express a resolve to restore what has been erased by colonialism, merging themes of revitalization and resistance in shimmering, richly-coloured threads. One particularly striking embroidered piece, stitched in silver and steel blue, reads, “Wolves Don’t Play by The Rules.”  

The fabric sculptures of Monnet’s Wound series are composed of Kevlar, an aramid fibre used in bulletproof vests and aerospace engineering practices. The shimmering, overlapping forms, their edges delicately traced by tiny beads, express “a record of the body or a rugged terrain,” according to the exhibition description. The series conveys a dialectical bond between the painful legacy of trauma, the resilience of the land and body, and the healing process that follows. 

“I hope people have an emotional reaction to the works, that they feel connected to them. And just to realize that the land we occupy, everything around us, has a big influence on who we are,” said Monnet.  

“In return, we have a lot of influence on our surroundings. And [we must] be careful about that really fragile relationship.” 

French-Anishinaabe artist Caroline Monnet sits in front of her artwork wearing bright multicoloured beadwork earrings

French-Anishinaabe artist Caroline Monnet’s exhibition Pizandawatc opened at the University of Toronto’s Art Museum earlier this year (Courtesy of the artist)

New York-based artist transforms MOCA Toronto into a vibrant space for storytelling

Referring to a multitude of historical archives, an engaging new exhibit creates a stage for the untold stories of European history

By: Teresa Valenton

Gibson invites audiences to immerse themselves in his exhibition through the use of familiar mediums such as stickers, posters and furniture. (Teresa Valenton/CanCulture)

By creating interactive spaces for the general public to immerse themselves in, a New York-based artist facilitated an accessible space for marginalized communities at Toronto’s Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA).

On March 10, MOCA launched their spring exhibitions featuring headlining artists such as Shirin Neshat with Land of Dreams, Felix Gonzalez-Torres’ Summer and Jeffrey Gibson’s I AM YOUR RELATIVE. Throughout each floor, the artists present their ideas through unique mediums, while a recurring theme of connection weaves itself through them all seamlessly. 

As each artist shares “emotional portraits” by immersing viewers into the art, MOCA has become a space for self-exploration and enlightenment. 

At the unveiling of his first exhibition at MOCA, Jeffrey Gibson, an interdisciplinary artist based in Hudson, New York and member of the Mississippi Band of Choctaw Indians and Half Cherokee, transforms the first floor of the gallery into a visual archive to uplift Indigenous, Black, Brown and queer voices. 

Situated on the gallery’s free admission first floor, Gibson utilizes historical archives and bright stages to recall the ways in which history has been told. 

Rendering photographs of Indigenous, Black, Brown and queer people, Gibson faciliates a space to provide comfort to those who have felt silenced. (Teresa Valenton/CanCulture)

“Knowing that this space is open and available and free to the public was something we wanted to make available for multiple ages. I guess this was an accessible way for people not to feel intimidated by an art space to make them feel comfortable,” said Gibson. 

As the exhibition unfolds over the upcoming months, performers such as Amplified Opera, a Toronto-based opera company, and Emily Johnson, an American dancer of Yup’ik descent, will bring in other narratives of history through unique performances.

Inspired by his own artistic practices over the last 15 years, Gibson incorporated furniture that viewers could curate experiences out of. Incorporating pillows into each “stage,” he encourages viewers to become comfortable within his work.

Referencing his previous work To Name An Other: Call for Performers by the National Portrait Gallery in 2019, Gibson presents a crossover between art and audience involvement. The craft comes from allowing individuals to be observed through their actions, Gibson said.

Gibson invites his audience to partake in his exhibit by using comfy, colourful pillows. (Teresa Valenton/CanCulture)

In utilizing public spaces, Gibson presents history through the use of public archives. While referencing stories rooted in Indigenous cultures of the Americas, he gravitates towards certain materials such as stickers and rendered photographs. When reminiscing about the poster walls of his teenage bedroom, Gibson relates it back to the found materials for I AM YOUR RELATIVE.

“I like the negative spaces as other information peeks through, and then the local contributions that we receive will enter into programming to see what they have contributed,” Gibson said.

Though the pandemic took an effect on the production of this series, reconfiguring ideas and communicating with performers took roughly 18 months, Gibson said. All images that were used had to be formatted along with the stage designs in accordance with his creative vision. 

Travel restrictions slowed down the momentum but his team was eager to pick up the project. All members took precautions and relied on transparency throughout the project, forming a community in the process, Gibson said. 

When considering perspective, Gibson encourages viewers to take enjoyment in his work, “I think it’s a place for people who have differences who believe that these differences are tremendously rich and add to our culture.” 

Continuously shocked at the prejudices that remain intact, Gibson feels as if the treatment of Black, Brown, Indigenous and queer folks should have culturally progressed. However, with the relationship between research and art, Gibson is reminded that images can appear both abrasive and empowering to different audiences. 

Presenting the relevance of this piece, Gibson marks history through a multifaceted expression of today. 

“There are emotions; there are facts; there are lies. So I see it as generating media to help describe the moment as if someone was looking back at it.”