Heart, Mind, Love at Propeller Art Gallery

I was fascinated upon entering Heart, Mind, Love, a compelling group exhibition at Propeller Art Gallery that brings together 98 works by 80 artists. This thoughtfully curated exhibition allows viewers to explore the dynamic relationship between emotion and intellect, and offering a reflection on love through diverse artistic expressions. Drawing inspiration from global perspectives, the exhibition highlights the contrast between Western distinctions of heart and mind, Eastern philosophies of their unity, and Indigenous teachings on their profound interconnectedness. Ultimately, Heart, Mind, Love serves as a reminder that love is not merely felt or understood—it is experienced in the spaces between, where emotion and intellect converge to shape the way we connect with ourselves, each other, and the world around us.

Installation view of Heart, Mind, Love at Propeller Art Gallery

Upon encountering Lisa Johnson’s “Mother and Child” series, I was immediately drawn into a dialogue between the personal and the universal. The abstract influences in the work allow for an emotional depth that transcends the literal, pulling me into a space where the bond between mother and child is not depicted in traditional forms but instead through dynamic brush strokes and a striking contrast of black and yellow. The dominant use of black paint creates a sense of weight, a sort of grounding force, while the yellow ink, highlighting the heads of the mother and child, feels almost ethereal. It’s as though the love shared between them is radiant, yet it exists within a space defined by the heaviness of life’s responsibilities. This work is not just a reflection of Johnson’s personal experience but also a window into the heart of anyone who has ever grappled with the tension between creative self-expression and the constant presence of responsibility.

Lisa Johnson, Mother and Child, #7, 1996, ink on paper, 44 x 30 inches (left) and detail (right)

What struck me from afar was the captivating use of the Fibonacci sequence, or the golden ratio, in David Switzer’s “Sonnet 24, mine eyes hath played the painter”. At first glance, the mathematical precision of the golden ratio in the composition feels almost meditative, a perfect marriage of structure and emotion. I’m immediately drawn to this balance, where the rigidity of mathematics and the fluidity of poetry seem to intersect. The Fibonacci sequence, a universal symbol of harmony in nature, becomes a powerful visual metaphor for Shakespeare’s sonnet, which discusses the way love can be both vast and meticulously composed in an ever-evolving cycle that is bound yet infinite. The presence of the sonnet text as a graphic element adds a layer of depth, urging me to not just read the words but to see them, to feel them in the piece. In that sense, visual poetry emerges as a reminder that Shakespeare’s words are not confined to the page. Switzer’s melding of mathematics and poetry does more than just illustrate Shakespeare’s words—it makes them come alive.

David Switzer, Sonnet 24, mine eyes hath played the painter, graphite, ink, acrylic inks, inkjet, on archival paper, 13 x 18 inches

I found Christine Hoeldke’s “Are Those Really Madame Bovary’s Slippers?”, fascinating because its composition merges intimacy, obsession, and the subtle complexity of human desire through Emma Bovary’s character. The sculpture itself exudes an almost haunting beauty, with every detail meticulously rendered. Each ribbon, stitch, and colour thoughtfully chosen to evoke a sense of longing that is present in the novel itself. As someone who holds a deep appreciation for Flaubert’s Madame Bovary (1856), I was especially drawn to the symbolism embedded in this piece. The slippers, intimately associated with Bovary’s tragic yearnings, serve as more than just objects; they become a vessel for the desires and fantasies of those who encounter them. The details in the stitching are remarkable; they speak to the delicate nature of desire itself: fragile, yet complex. These small touches elevate the sculpture from merely a representation of an object into an experience of longing. Confined in the frame, it’s as if the slippers themselves have absorbed the passion, disappointment, and emotional turmoil of those who once touched them—something I felt deeply as I observed them. The slippers truly stand as both a symbol of absence and presence.

Christine Hoeldke, Are those really Madame Bovary’s slippers?, mixed media, sewing, designing, painting on tai chi shoes, 12 x 8 inches (right) and detail (left)

MaryLou Hurley’s Miss Delphine was utterly mesmerizing. The sculpture’s exquisite craftsmanship and the depth it seemed to convey, were very intriguing. I stood in front of it for what felt like an eternity, absorbed by the details and the emotional tension embodied in the figure. The combination of materials was very intricate—particularly the use of fine China to adorn the corset and balaclava. What struck me most about Miss Delphine, though, was her pose. Her hand raised in a clear stop gesture while her head was turned away. There’s something incredibly powerful about this simple yet potent movement. At first glance, it might seem like a defensive posture, one of refusal or rejection. But as I lingered, I began to interpret it as something more complex: a quiet yet forceful declaration of agency, a refusal to be consumed or controlled by the gaze of others. It speaks to the internal struggle between the demands of being seen and the desire to protect one’s autonomy.

MaryLou Hurley, Miss Delphine, mixed media mosaic sculpture, 26 x 20 inches (left) and details

Samantha Hurley’s Curves is a striking piece with its quiet serenity in the delicate portrayal of a nude woman. The figure, lying calmly with her face turned away, invites the viewer into a space of stillness, where the demands of the outside world fade into the background. Her body, soft and fluid, rests against the stark contrast of the linen fabric, drawing attention to the natural grace of her form. There’s something so peaceful in the way she lies there, as if her body, at rest, is an embodiment of tranquillity. For me, it evoked the essence of womanhood in its purest, most unguarded, form. Yet there is an undeniable tension that Hurley builds into this image, especially when I consider the context of the piece. The backdrop, The Apotheosis of Hercules by François Lemoyne, brings a divine, almost mythological addition to the scene. The juxtaposition between the ordinary, human form of the woman and the monumental, almost otherworldly quality of Hercules, feels significant. It’s as if Hurley is making a statement about how we, as a society, view women and beauty: the woman in the print is unadorned, vulnerable, and still, while the mythological context suggests something grander and more unattainable.

Samantha Hurley, Curves, fine art print, 16 x 33 inches (left) and detail (right)

Heart, Mind, Love at Propeller Art Gallery is a profound exploration of the intersection between emotion and intellect, presenting a diverse collection of works that challenge and expand the viewer’s understanding of love, identity, and connection. Through a range of artistic expressions each piece contributes to a broader dialogue about the complexities of human experience. The exhibition ultimately reinforces the idea that love is not confined to sentiment or reason alone, but is found in the balance between the two.

Kaya Meziane

Images are courtesy of Propeller Art Gallery

*Exhibition information: Heart, Mind, Love / Group exhibition, January 22 – February 9, 2025, Propeller Art Gallery, 30 Abell St, Toronto. Gallery hours: Wed – Sat, 1 – 5:30pm, Sun 12 – 4pm.