
Walking from space to space at the Gladstone’s annual Come Up to My Room event (where the hotel surrenders its accommodations to be reimagined by a clutch of designers) is a bit like taking an absurd, down-the-rabbit-hole-type journey though the minds of several artsy archetypes. There’s the minimalist, who works with little more than white Styrofoam and LED lights; the maximalist, whose room is so packed with hundreds of abstract, laser-cut feathers it’s pretty well impossible to enter; the Parkdale hipster, whose half-shorn hair and acid-wash jeggings are more interesting than the art itself; and the conceptualist, whose work is likely very, very deep but will be likely be lost on everyone without a PhD in philosophy. That said, the show, which is on until this Sunday, is exuberantly creative, spectacularly strange, and well worth a visit. Our six favourite pieces after the jump.
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