Untitled, From the Red Series: the highlight of AGO celebration of photography
Written in May 2026
Amongst a sea of black, white and dull-coloured photographs in petite frames, a notably large image of a woman surrounded by red household objects caught my eye.
Barbara Astman’s Untitled, From the Red Series (1980-1981) is one of over 90 photographs on display at the Art Gallery of Ontario (AGO) as part of Collective Visions: Celebrating 25 Years of Photography through May 10.
The exhibit, located rather tucked away on the entrance level, was difficult to find due to a lack of signage and floor space. For something the AGO Curator of Photography Sophie Hackett called “a beautifully revealing portrait of photography at the AGO – a collection as expansive as the medium itself” in a September 2025 press release, this seemed odd and almost deceptive.
Upon entering, a stack of borrowable brochures is available for those wishing to learn more about the aesthetically-placed photographs that decorate the gallery’s white walls.
Almost immediately, my gaze fixated on Untitled, a striking photograph of a fair-skinned woman with bold red lips holding a paintbrush and paint tray while household objects seem to float around her in a swarm of red. There was something oddly familiar about Untitled, which seemed hyperrealistic, as though the woman and objects would emerge from the print.
In a phone interview, Astman described Untitled as a “true self-portrait” and her approach as “me confronting the audience.” She called the signature series the touchstone of her career, joking that her tombstone will reference the work.
Astman, a current Toronto resident who was born in Rochester, NY in 1950, said she grew up asking for red patent leather shoes but was forbidden by her mother. Astman was drawn to the colour red for its multi-faceted symbolism of power, love, blood and death.
Her inspiration for the series was the idea of telling stories without language to avoid communication barriers and reach a universal audience.
Perhaps this idea of communication without language is why Collective Visions lacks titles, captions, or even brief context for the featured photographs. To learn about each image, one must locate the adjacent tiny black number, so small that people without 20/20 vision may have to squint, and find the match in the lengthy brochure, resulting in a frustrating and time-consuming user experience detracting from the immersive nature of photography.
Also lacking communicative elements are messages from the artists who created each piece. The quotes in the brochure are not from the respective artists but instead from AGO community members who selected the photographs to be featured. While it is interesting to hear a professional but outside opinion, this approach lacks a sense of intimacy and clarity that words from the authors would provide.
Overall, for an exhibit celebrating 25 years of photography, it felt underwhelming, underbaked, unmemorable and unimaginative.
Does Collective Visions live up to Hackett’s intention of creating “a beautifully revealing portrait of photography at the AGO – a collection as expansive as the medium itself”? Not quite. It is difficult to be revealing without context, clarity and intimacy. Although the AGO photography collection may be expansive, the exhibit space and advertizing certainly were not reflective.
Despite the exhibit’s flaws, Untitled, From the Red Series alone proved worthy of the price of admission (which, in my case, was free…) and a rainy-day trip to the AGO.