One by one, many local businesses have closed their doors, weakened by large chain stores and online commerce. Their now-vacant premises have often remained in place, with their gutted windows and worn signs becoming markers of bygone times. We know all too well that cinema has been replaced by films on demand, and that hardware stores are struggling to keep up with the competition. Jasmin Bilodeau brings us face-to-face with them, inviting us to take the measure of what they signify. “Look, it’s too beautiful”, even in the past tense.
The artist has been observing and photographing them for a long time, sensitive to their quiet disappearance. The images he has accumulated over time have become the canvas for digital interventions and bricolage, which he integrates in trompe-l’œil to lead us to question them in detail. The graffiti gathered in the Électrobec 2000 window form a dissonance of sometimes militant, sometimes comic discourse, mocking in turn the idea of progress that so secures our societies. Elsewhere, the autumn leaves that invade a façade are fabricated from scratch like colorful garlands, reminding us of our responsibility in the loss of these beloved places, but also of our capacity to celebrate what remains of them.