Spring Hurlbut: Airborne RYERSON IMAGE CENTRE TORONTO JANUARY 20-APRIL 10, 2015 Death, that necessarily twinned companion to life, Sigmund Freud concluded, is the most compelling of all human drives: Death brings stasis to the constant agitation of life. (1) In death, we can finally relax. Considered within contemporary Western culture, still pumped from postwar United States commercialization of youth culture, the notion seems absurd. Perceived as an incomprehensible violation of our autonomy, death is resisted and denied. We traffic in super foods and preserve our bodies for future awakening, when science finally solves nature's fatal flaw. Spring Hurlbut engages in no such fantasies. Instead, her explorations in sculpture, installation, photography, and video over the past three decades acknowledge the necessary demise of our ephemeral and fragile bodies. But, unlike Freud's fatigued psychical bodies, those Hurlbut represents don't settle into static sleep. Their vitality continues as visual, spiritual, or aesthetic presence. Hurlbut's work sits within the tradition of representing death through art. Through history, we've preserved bodies, either literally or figuratively: ancient death masks indexed ancient Roman faces as did, though with greater remove, nineteenth-century post-mortem daguerreotypes; mummified ancient Egyptians found their way, as Mummy Brown pigment, into oil paintings from the sixteenth to the twentieth centuries. It is intriguing to consider the semiotic and political implications if, for example, looted Egyptian corpses were reconstituted as drowning slaves painted into J.M.W. Turner's The Slave Ship (1840). (2) Hurlbut has deployed both approaches, using both real bodies and their rhetorical representations: Her earlier Sacrificial Ornament sculpture series (1989-97), modeled after classical Roman architecture, incorporated real horse teeth and cast reliefs of human femurs to stand as architectural dentils and triglyphs; her installation Le Jardin du sommeil (1998) displayed a vast collection of antique metal cribs that referred metonymically to their absent occupants, whose lives may have ended prematurely from faulty hygiene in birthing and feeding. More recently, Hurlbut's photographs offer compositions of cremated human and animal remains. The first piece in the subsequent, ongoing, and morphing series, Deuil (Mourning), begun in 2005, developed in relation to her own father's cremated remains. Her photographs of the larger bone shards picked from his ashes and arranged along the edge of a ruler signal an objective ethnological and museological approach to the past. This is one way that we manage what life leaves behind: our archives and artifacts accumulate in the thick pile of history. Shifting from this analytic approach, Hurlbut engages realms disregarded by science: love, poetics, loss, beauty, imagination, and metaphysics. In these large, square, color photographs, the ashes from an individual or animal (as she photographs our dear doggy dust as well) lie scattered in a loose circle inside the frame. Dramatically lit against a deep black background, their mixed textures and warm tones appear as elegant starry constellations in a night sky. …