Lynn Donoghue Paintings

The Missing Paintings of Lynn Donoghue represent a cultural loss, erasing chapters in the story of one of Canada's most visionary artists. Their absence underscores the fragility of artistic heritage and the urgent need for preservation and documentation.

Stepping inside Donoghue's Toronto studio, you would see caribou antlers hanging everywhere, finds from the northern Alberta tundra and inspiration for a new artistic direction. The antlers pushed her towards an exploration of spirituality and memories of a bad relationship. The result: seven monumental tarpaulin paintings, meant to form a tent, rolled away, unopened for decades until their discovery in 2024.

In this unprecedented series taking place after her child's christening party, Donoghue is surrounded by Toronto's art community but remains emotionally alone. The series reflects her struggle with motherhood, and her refusal to choose between being a mother and an artist - she was both.

Always available, Donoghue was her own best subject, appraising herself with a frank and unromantic eye. In this selection human emotion runs the gamut from deadpan humour to tenderness and defiance. A hallmark work, the uncharacteristically small Cauterise, painted after a 1997 operation, reveals the deep scars hidden beneath her effervescent public persona.

Using monumental scale and vibrant colour, Donoghue depicts a human connection at the heart of each piece. While most of her peers leaned toward the conceptual and minimal, she stood firm in her belief that friends and lovers were the most compelling subjects. Decades later, she is now seen as a forerunner of contemporary figuration.

A legendary dinner party staged in Donoghue's Toronto studio helped her to reimagine The Last Supper. The ambitious project spans sixteen canvases and was completed in 2003 after two years of work. Donoghue passed away shortly after finishing it. Shown just once at Easter 2004, it was celebrated as a daring exploration of spirituality and the human condition, an uncomfortable subject in the art world at the time.

Godzilla is not just another plastic toy; he is the last man standing amongst the morning-after remnants of Donoghue''s third wedding. Screwdrivers poke out of a jar like a makeshift bouquet. Donoghue's still lifes take the everyday objects of her studio and turn them into the stars of their own dramas.