Curating the Code: How Esker Foundation Decoded Jana Sterbak
- Yang (Sunny) Yu
- Feb 2
- 4 min read
Edited By Sophie Disch
Stepping out of Calgary’s bustling commercial galleries, one enters the Esker Foundation and encounters a different kind of conversation. The retrospective Jana Sterbak: Dimensions of Intimacy presents a demanding body of work, while the experience feels no exclusion. The exhibition’s impact stems both from Sterbak’s challenging art and Esker Foundation’s masterful curation. By functioning as both a meticulous translator and a serene stage, the institution transforms a complex artistic language into an accessible and deeply educational public experience.
Jana Sterbak, one of Canada’s most influential contemporary artists, constructs a body of work that is intellectually rigorous and elusive. Born in Prague and displaced to Canada after the Soviet invasion, her biography brings a sense of dislocation and skepticism, focusing on the body, materiality, and the dynamics of power and intimacy.
This ideal materializes in her 1984-85 work, I Want You to Feel the Way I Do... (The Dress). The piece is simple at first encounter. A freestanding garment stretches its arms in an inviting gesture. This initial impression of vulnerability and welcome is completely overturned by the label, which reveals its construction from uninsulated nickel-chrome wire. The work thus builds a direct collision between visual fragility and tangible danger. In this tension, Sterbak shows the core proposition that intimacy is a potent duality capable of forging connections and inflicting harm.
The exhibition text then guides the viewer into a deeper story, revealing the work as a contemporary retelling of the myth of Medea. The outstretched arms no longer seem to simply invite a hug. Instead, they simulate the deadly gesture of gift-giving, echoing the poisoned robe Medea used for revenge. Sterbak’s genius lies in this metaphorical alchemy. She translates an ancient, literary poison into a modern, physically tangible threat from electricity. The dress becomes less an object and more of a trap with the promise of affection. Consequently, the viewer’s role shifts from passive observer to implicated witness. We are placed in the position of Jason’s new bride, Glauce, and suddenly confronted with the consequences of betrayed love.
This reflects the primary challenge Sterbak consistently poses to her audience. Her art operates through dense layers of cultural citation and metaphorical transposition instead of direct representation. Without the crucial knowledge of Medea, The Dress risks being appreciated merely for its minimalist aesthetics. Its underlying commentary on the destructive power of a woman scorned and the darker dimensions of intimacy might be entirely missed. This characteristic extends across her collection. Whether it is the Sisyphean struggle literalized in Sisyphus II or the perishable materiality of Bread Bed, Sterbak embeds complex narratives within ordinary materials, demanding that the viewer become an active decoder of her symbolic language.
Faced with such semantically rich art, a critical question arises for any public institution. How can it bridge the gap between the artist’s intended meaning and the viewer’s actual experience, ensuring the work’s transformative power is not lost? Esker Foundation does not leave visitors to figure it out alone. Instead, it uses the exhibition itself to build a bridge of understanding.
Esker Foundation provides a detailed exhibition guide, which serves as a key to unlocking its meaning. Its most immediate value is in supplying essential context, the ancient story of Medea’s poisoned gift. With this narrative, the dress carries the weight of betrayal and revenge. The text actively translates the artist’s metaphor. It clearly connects the literary idea of poison to the physical reality of live wire, helping viewers understand that the material is a deliberate modern equivalent of the mythical toxin.
The exhibition furthers its educational role by displaying Sterbak’s preparatory work. On a nearby wall, early sketches and technical drawings for The Dress are shown. These sketches document the precise path of the wires along the arms and their connection points across the torso. By showing Sterbak’s early sketches and notes, the exhibition makes the creative process clear and approachable. We see that a strong idea, such as a deadly gift, starts simply and is then shaped through physical testing and change. Placing these materials next to the finished sculpture allows the viewers to trace how a written story of betrayal was worked into the electrical object in front of us.
By explaining the story and showing the creative steps, the Esker Foundation gives visitors the tools they need. This educational approach shows the Foundation aims further than displaying art. It makes sure its powerful messages are truly received and understood.
This commitment to clarity extends beyond the text and into the space itself. The Esker Foundation’s gallery is designed to focus attention completely on the art. The walls are pure white, and the floors are pale wood, creating a quiet and neutral backdrop. Every practical element, like air conditioning controls or fire alarms, is carefully hidden behind white panels so nothing distracts from the works on display. The lighting is equally thoughtful. It is soft and even, with no glare on the glass or shiny surfaces. This allows even the smallest drawings and most detailed sculptures to be seen clearly and comfortably. All these elements show a deep respect for both the artwork and the viewer’s experience.
By removing all visual distractions, the gallery ensures that nothing comes between the viewer and Sterbak’s challenging ideas. The space itself becomes a tool for concentration, making it easier to engage with the complex stories in the art.
Jana Sterbak’s work, with its sharp critique and layered meanings, stands as a vital chapter in contemporary art. However, this power can be weakened without thoughtful mediation. The Esker Foundation faces this challenge with exceptional clarity and purpose. By providing insightful texts, revealing the artist’s process, and crafting a space of pure focus, it reaffirms its essential role as an active and generous civic guide. It demonstrates that the true measure of a gallery’s success lies not only in the prestige of its collection alone, but also in its unwavering commitment to making that collection speak clearly, deeply, and meaningfully to every visitor who walks through its doors.
Yang (Sunny) Yu is the Treasurer of the Hart House Student Art Committee. She specializes in Accounting at the University of Toronto. Her writing focuses on how museums shape public understanding of contemporary art.
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