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April 8, 2011
Humor serves to heal
Robyn Michele Levy’s digital art takes risks.
OLGA LIVSHIN
Funny is often a flip side of tragic. Nobody knows this better than Robyn Michele Levy. “Humor is a self-defence mechanism, a way to deflect fear and melancholy,” she said in an interview with the Jewish Independent. Levy’s solo art show, Go Figure!, is now open at the Sidney and Gertrude Zack Gallery and visitors will experience the inextricably linked senses of pain and laughter in Levy’s digital drawings.
Levy’s artistic path was a complicated one, chock-full of detours, potholes and crossroads. After high school, she studied visual arts and psychology and, at first, couldn’t decide on one career. “I thought I could combine art and psychology and work in art therapy,” she said. In the end, that line fizzled out, and she dedicated herself exclusively to visual arts. “I felt compelled to do my own artistic exploration,” she explained.
From 1983 to 2001, she participated in two dozen group and solo art shows, and her upbeat, colorful paintings found their way into many corporate and private collections. She also wrote and published poetry. And, in 2000, already a successful artist, she began collaborating with CBC radio.
“I fell into radio,” she said with a smile, remembering her serendipitous beginning. “Really, it was an accident. I liked listening to CBC radio when I worked in my art studio. They had a program, Outfront, designed for discovering new voices. They always said in the end of the program: ‘If you have a story, call us.’ So I did. I pitched a story about ESL students from different countries and their frequent miscommunications because of the language barrier. We hosted international students for years, so I knew. A producer called me soon after. They wanted my story.”
The short radio documentary was successful, and Levy was hooked. “I kept pitching stories, and they kept saying ‘yes,’” she recalled. Finally, she started working for CBC radio full time, writing, producing and broadcasting. “It seemed like I found another home. Like painting with sound and words.”
Immersed in her new work, she put painting on the back burner. “Making radio was very creative and absorbing. It didn’t leave me much time for anything else. I was satisfied and felt no impulse to do visual art.”
And then, a disaster struck. In 2007, at the top of her career, Levy was diagnosed with early onset of Parkinson’s. A few months later, another blow – this time, breast cancer. “Looking back, I realize now that perhaps my illnesses were the reason I couldn’t paint. They crept up on me gradually, and I didn’t have the energy.”
It took her a while to learn to live with her afflictions. The next step was to start talking about them. And here, humor proved to be a necessity. “Humor has always been in my repertoire,” she said. “It’s always been my way of dealing with issues. It helps to defuse tension.” Unable to talk about her devastating diseases in any other way, she resorted to mordant humor and self-mockery to send updates on her deteriorating health to family and friends.
That’s how her new book was born. One of the friends, impressed by Levy’s courage and tickled by her hilarious messages, remembered the name of a publisher she knew and made the introduction. “Are you interested in writing a memoir?” the publisher asked. Never the one to refuse a challenge, Levy said she was, and then dove headfirst into writing.
“Sharing your experience helps you connect with others. It’s a form of distraction from pain, a form of healing,” she confessed. In the fall of 2011, Graystone Books will be publishing her funny and moving memoir, entitled Most of Me: Surviving My Medical Meltdown.
Once she submitted the finished manuscript to the publisher, she craved a new focus, she said. Neither Parkinson’s nor breast cancer managed to stop her creativity from overflowing. Just the opposite, her failing body seemed to feed an explosion of imagination. “I try to work on something every day. Time is precious,” she said gravely. “It’s a cliché, but it’s still true. I don’t know how long I can do it.” After almost a decade away from paints and paper, Levy returned to visual art in its new, digital incarnation.
A few months ago, her husband bought her a digital drawing tablet. She was fascinated with the new medium. “It was an exciting experience,” she said. “I was reluctant to go back to acrylics: they are toxic, they smell, and I’m conscious of my health now. Another benefit of painting on computer: no cleanup afterwards. So I started playing with the tablet, experimenting, making abstract squiggles. I went through different phases. I didn’t realize until then how much I missed colors in my life, missed manipulating shapes.”
Now, she draws her vivid, whimsical illustration on computer and infuses them with her distress and her longings. “My illness shapes my perspective and influences my art,” she said. “It is now more personal. I’m willing to take more risks.”
She also became deeply appreciative of human bodies and their mobility. “I want to explore the way a body moves and what happens when it doesn’t.”
The dynamic little figures inhabiting her prints are compiled of only a few strokes of her electronic brush, but they seem to be perpetually in motion, embarking on a road twisted and convoluted. Neither the artist nor her digital creations know where the exit lies.
And, of course, each drawing is flavored with a pinch of self-teasing, so organic to Levy’s art. Gentle chuckles are intertwined with suffering, and what comes out is deceptively simple at first glance but heartrending on a gut level. “When I start to draw, I don’t know what’ll come out. It’s often a surprise for me. I’ll doodle and see what my subconscious reveals.”
Go Figure! is on at the Zack Gallery until Sunday, May 8. Levy will donate 25 percent of all proceeds of her show to the Parkinson Society of British Columbia. To learn more, visit robynlevygallery.wordpress.com.
Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She is available for contract work. Contact her at [email protected].
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