Eva Kotátková

In Eva Kotátková’s world the institutions have run wild. Schools and hospitals spill over and outward into nightmarish fragments and snippets. Despite being in familiar enough territory (psychiatric wards, systems of taxonomy, discipline), Kotátková manages to reconfigure the material into forms that fascinate. Imagine the collected works of Michel Foucault made animate — these systems are endlessly intriguing, especially when pulled apart and laid bare. Kotátková shows that our institutions both structure and sustain us.

Tucked away in a quiet industrial area of Toronto, this exhibition marks the Czech artist’s first showing in Canada. Somehow, this neighbourhood seems a more natural fit than the Gothic canals of Venice, where she exhibited during last year’s biennale. Her monochromatic palette hits a little harder when surrounded by train tracks and auto-body shops. While the colour scheme remains constant, the exhibition has no allegiance to medium. Wearable sculptures stand across from collages, stacked images, varied ephemera, and a monumental table installation. Kotátková pursues a feel, a terrain. Images alone offer recurring elements: birds, skeletal systems, organs, and cages surface throughout. They provide the bass line, the rhythm, to pull you in and lead you through.