Art Before the Internet - Part II

Justin Canja and Aaron Howell at Smalter Art

Last year, I wrote on Justin Canja and Aaron Howell’s exhibition at Smalter Art and posted on Substack. I just deleted my account and forgot to back up that article. So, I’m posting this one on my website.

Before the internet took over, the only way we saw new work outside of galleries was in one of the local magazines such as Review, The Pitch, The New Times or national magazines such as Artnews or Art in America. Artists were these mysterious figures who emerged with new artwork to show before vanishing back into the their studios. We didn’t know where they went or what they did, other than coming up with work. Even their practices were mostly unknown, except for the occasional studio visit article. 

Because viewing art was not as accessible artists weren’t bombarded with constant imagery of the work of other artists. A lot of today’s art is clearly influenced by the art piped through Facebook and Instagram. Now, that is not to say there is anything wrong with emulating or incorporating aspects of the style of another artist. That’s how many rappers begin, by emulating their favorite rapper and finding their own style from there. The end result, however, is that there is less risk taking and it shows.

There is something different about work that feels like it came from someplace untouched by the aesthetic influences delivered through modern technology. There’s a beauty in something so markedly different.

That is what I receive from the work of Canja and Howell. There is a sustained and sophisticated, rawness to their work, an edginess that is both alluring, intruiging, and mystifying. It has an analog texture, like movies on made on film versus those made on digital. And, to me, that is what makes their art so interesting. It feels like art before the internet. 

For one, there are these striking paper mache sculptures. They are presented in interesting positions, layered with print text and covered with resin. Aesthetically, they strike me as a type of translucent marble, with layers of meaning in the text itself.  Two are placed near the front of the gallery, as if in a conversation.

As I looked at them, people walked by the outside window. And, in those moments, these sculptures were alive…having a chat on a busy sidewalk on a sweltering August Friday evening. For that moment, art was imitating life and life was imitating art.

The gallery’s architecture contributes to this exhibitions resonance. The big glass storefront window places the public just an inch or so of glass away. The art is in the gallery but also in the outside world at the same time. In addition to the natural light and kinetic energy flowing in from the window, the motion outside, both of cars and people connects with art that feels like it came from a time when people were more outside and social, not tied to their cellphones and tablets.

The work here feels vibrant, joyous, unapologetic, and liberating. In addition to the sculptures, there are paintings and paper sculptures that make me think of those words from the introduction to Captain Kirk saying “to boldly go where no man has gone before”.

I often say “The life of the artist is the art and the things we make are artifacts of who we were at that point in time.” The artists, Justin and Aaron, emanate unrestrained authenticity and it comes out in the work. If you were there as they renewed their vows (with Lee Smalter, curator, happily putting her ordination credentials to work!), then you experienced a spark of that authenticity which has become this inferno of ingenuity and inventiveness.

Smelter is the closest gallery to my house and I hate driving, so I usually go there when in need of being around art. I’m glad that it's 5 minutes by car from my studio at Charlotte Street and, if I ride the bus…just one transfer and a short walk away.

So, I plan to go back.

I hope you consider going too.

Justin Canja - @papermonkeystudio

Aaron Howell - @redheadedboy

View images HERE : Feel free to download, images are up until 0ct 31, 2026