Colleen Kerr

Colleen Kerr creates symbolic narrative with a poetic interpretation of the natural world in her art. Sometimes nature is represented in part or whole, or as an implied presence that references human context.

We often hold ourselves separate from “nature.” The history of humanity tells a long, often troubled relationship between humans and nature: fearing, embracing, rejecting, surviving, negotiating, and trying to control it. No matter what technologies we invent and where our brains take us, the natural world is inescapable as long as we inhabit these bodies. We are animals, part of nature, yet we have an insatiable need to question how and why, as evidenced by our stories, science, philosophy and art.

Colleen writes, "Perhaps I am part of a collective unconsciousness or a huge neural network. I know for certain all life is interconnected. Whether we like it or not, all human beings are related".

She offers points of connection in her work, perhaps to resonate with others’ psyches. Thus she makes art that invites the viewer to interpret and explore on their own terms, and find their own relationship with nature, the world and themselves.

Colleen graduated with distinction from the Alberta College of Art and Design (Calgary, Canada) in 1987. Previous to that, she studied visual art at Okanagan University Centre (Kelowna, Canada) and Langara College (Vancouver, Canada). She continues to develop new skills and technique through workshops and art residencies.

Through the Eye of the Needle, Glenbow Museum, Calgary, Canada, 2017
OUTPUT=INPUT, emmedia, Calgary, Canada, 2017
Paint for Georgia, Georgian National Library, Tbilisi, Georgia. Preview, Mtskheta, Georgia, 2016
Paint for Georgia, Georgian National Museum, Tbilisi, Georgia. Preview, Mtskheta, Georgia, 2015
Integrate Arts Festival, Victoria, Canada, 2014
Made in Calgary: The Nineties, video, Glenbow Museum, Calgary, Canada, 2014
Pride Exhibition, embroidered mixed media, Medrona Gallery, Victoria, Canada, 2012
Role, Stride Gallery, Calgary, Canada, 2011