This Toronto artist died suddenly in 2012. A beguiling new exhibit showcases her long-hidden works

Rome, so its founding story goes, was established by Romulus and Remus, twin brothers abandoned as infants and cared for by a she-wolf.

My birthplace of Singapore, which literally means “Lion City,” was said to be named after a 13th-century prince, Sang Nila Utama, who supposedly spotted a lion in its dense jungles when he arrived. Or at least that was the story I was told.

And for many cities across North America, their founding tales involve intrepid colonizers setting up communities on a pristine, untouched wilderness — myths, of course, that conveniently erase the Indigenous Peoples who lived on these lands long before. 

We pass down these stories from generation to generation. But they aren’t static. They are ephemeral and ever-evolving, reborn each time they are retold. They also inform, even subconsciously, how we view our cities, shaping our collective identity.

This idea of urban mythmaking is central to the works of Sybil Goldstein, the late Canadian artist whose drawings and paintings are now on display in a beguiling new exhibit at Koffler Arts. 

In “Urban Myths,” her posthumous retrospective curated by David Liss, Goldstein seemingly rewrites the myths that underpin the city of Toronto. 

Among her expressionistic cityscapes, you won’t find depictions of well-known landmarks. No City Hall. No Toronto Islands. No CN Tower, with the Rogers Centre standing idly beside it. 

Goldstein was never interested it seems in retelling — and perpetuating — the same myths and stories that have been told so many times before. Instead, her work mythicizes the mundane, elevating the quotidian pulse of the city.

In “Toronto Is,” a series of 16 pastel works from 2012, she captures everyday scenes: a busy downtown intersection at rush hour, a mall, a subway station, a construction site. 

But Goldstein imbues these drawings with a sense of mythic mysticism. Her stroke is wild and oftentimes straggly. Through these swirling lines, she evokes movement, blurs space and compresses time. There’s a fragility to it all, much like myth and memory. 

In her other works, Goldstein is more obvious in how she integrates elements of mythology. One oil painting from 1984 depicts a family of satyrs overlooking the Don Valley. Goldstein’s colours are muted. Her brush strokes are long and thick, like ribbons of overlapping satin. 

Another oil painting, titled “College Street @ 2am,” features an unhoused man, tucked in a sleeping bag in front of a wooden storefront. An angel floats above, gazing down at him. She’s joined by the mannequins in the shop window, peering down at the man. 

Born in Montreal, Goldstein was a founding member of the ChromaZone Collective, a Toronto-based group active in the 1980s whose works were grounded in a neo-expressionistic style. For more than three decades, Goldstein’s massive output never waned, until her unexpected death in 2012 from a heart attack.

Koffler Arts’ “Urban Myths” is significant in several ways. It features many of Goldstein’s works that have never before been presented publicly. It is also part of a broader effort, more than a decade since her passing, to place these pieces in private and public collections.

Indeed, this oeuvre deserves to be seen.

What’s especially compelling about Goldstein’s work is the breadth of her practice. While many of the paintings and drawings on display in “Urban Myths” are tied to the idea of mythology, her pieces explore other themes, too. 

Early in her career, several of Goldstein’s paintings explore the lush Ontario backcountry. Many are studies of light and reflection. Not all of them are successful. But in these three dozen or so works, we see an artist experimenting and slowly refining her work. 

Also in the exhibit are a handful of self-portraits. In one, from 2005, Goldstein paints herself in a spaghetti-strapped pink top. With wavy brown hair barely brushing her shoulders, she glances at her audience with a meditative ease, from the side of her eyes. 

How appropriate that as you admire this self-portrait, it’s framed by a stunning view of the Toronto skyline, outside the large windows at Koffler Arts’ new third-floor gallery. 

The act of mythmaking, like most storytelling, is an act of love. And in many ways, Goldstein’s art — elevating Toronto’s stories, its people and its scenes into the strata of mythology — is a love letter to vibrancy of this city.