$10,000

Sasquatch is a favourite motif of Dorland’s, though perhaps it’s more accurate to say a favourite imaginary friend. His sasquatch is not elusive, though. The paintings do not depict a hint of reddish fur or a flash of teeth glimpsed through trees. Rather, his sasquatch is fully revealed, so evident we cannot rationalize him away. Dorland’s large-scale sasquatches from this period sit on a throne of rock like an earthy inverse of cloud-dwelling Zeus, fur matted and scabbed with paint. The paintings are visceral enough to trick the mind into smelling rotting leaves and the blood of a fresh kill. But the creature in this collection has been washed by a good hard rain. His fuzziness – Dorland experimented with applying bits of actual fur in ’09 and ‘10 – is humorous and endearing, like a child trying to make his painted creation ‘real.’ “I probably wouldn’t do it now with my overly critical brain,” says Dorland, “but back then I was braver and more in-your-face, so it was a yes to real fur!” Dorland’s beasts can be tragicomic. They have their own myths to live up to, big footprints so to speak, but they’re also sad and alone.