Circling the Center by Nene Humphrey

Brooklyn-based artist Nene Humphrey's most recent series/project/performance/exhibition, Circling the Center is motivated by collaboration in every sense of the word. This project's origins began with a residency at Joseph LeDoux's neuroscience laboratory at New York University where Humphrey worked with scientists to visualize recorded images from the amygdala, the part of the brain where emotion, fear and anxiety reside. From these images Humphrey has created a series of layered drawings and sculptural works entitled The Plain Sense of Things. Inspired by Wallace Stevens' poem of the same name which brings us back to the simpler things in life, Humphrey's work moves us back through some of the most interesting, poignant, and fundamental examples of the origins of communication, linkage, and remembrance. Circling the Center, installation image, 2009.

For the inaugural site-specific installation of Circling the Center at Pinnacle Gallery, over sixty SCAD students, faculty, alumni and staff are participating in an exceptional feat of collaboration with Humphrey, artist Julie DeLano and sound design artist and musician Roberto Lange. Together, participants learn Victorian hair braiding patterns, woven with various colors and gauges of wire, made using simple looms. Seated in a tight circle of eight weavers, reminiscent of historical drum circles, the circumference expands as the woven sculpture grows, hanging from the center of the space. Like a ripple effect, sound also emanates from the core of the weaving group producing an intricate fusion of human chanting, spooling, spools hitting the sides of the looms, spools clanking and crashing to the floor, and the muffled thud of them hitting the felted tops of the looms. The sounds Humphrey collected and recorded from the emotional responses of lab mice make up the base sound from which Lange then records the actions in the gallery from the weavings, integrating them together to create an additional layer to this work.
Circling the Center, spools.

The work largely encompasses Humphrey's continued investigation of emotional responses through an interpretation of the patterning of the mind that we can not see with our naked eye. The results are an astonishingly beautiful forest of woven wire braids that undulate down from a suspended ceiling structure. Dark at the core, the intricate web of thicker dark wire, and wispy silver wire, are accented by bursts of red shimmers in the light, to reveal a structure that unites individual works by a large group of people from various disciplines. The linchpin of the exhibition is the haunting sound composition that Roberto Lange has arranged to accompany this new work.

Lange has spent the last week of the project making the aforementioned recordings which have now come together to reveal a mantra tied into Circling the Center. It is that of the sound, the energy that resonates from the research, the tools and the people associated with this project. Voices recorded in French, Russian, English and Chinese reveal simple chants that the participants murmur to themselves as they methodically move the spooled wire into position for weaving specific hair braiding patterns. These chants are intended not only to guide the weaver through the steps of a particular braid but they also give a voice the the piece, a way in which the ear may hear and in turn be able to have the mind understand more about how all of these factors tie into Humphrey's larger concepts of memory and emotion. Along with the voices of those chanting, Lange has integrated the other noises associated with making these woven braids in order to give a sense of work, a sense of a collective effort of motion and making inherent in the overall concept of this project.

In terms of understanding Circling the Center as a way to visualize that which is not visible, Humphrey has given the viewer a myriad of avenues from which to traverse this concept. Sound, touch, visual information and historical context come together to create a unified experience, one grounded in collaboration and interdisciplinary exploration. Circling the Center will be exhibited until Dec. 30, 2009 at Pinnacle Gallery | 320 E. Liberty (corner of Liberty and Habersham). The exhibition will travel to Sharidan Art Gallery, Kutztown, PA.

Point of Entry

Artists continue to explore their love for art and architecture in ways that posit the notion of a space between; an exploratory avenue where artists examine what it is they admire of or struggle with in architecture, and present these findings in unique ways. In the Point of Entry exhibition at Pinnacle Gallery, Sept. 30 - Nov. 4, 2009 artists, Scott Ingram, Josef Schulz and Lucy Williams' work responds to the aesthetic, functional and historical presence of Modernist architecture that is very much alive in contemporary art. This idea of the space between is thought of as the expanse of visual language cultivated by Modern architecture's aesthetic sensibility.

Atlanta based Scott Ingram explores Modernist architecture by extracting its inherent structural and design elements. Ingram modifies these extracted segments for site-specific installation, bringing a new view of Modernist architecture into contemporary art. I-beam Installation, 2009 in the exhibition is a configuration of four, six to twelve foot segments of I-beam structures made of wood. Supported at a 45 degree angle from ceiling to floor the largest beam anchors the line from which the remaining three I-beams intersect and subsequently mirror the curve of a brick wall in Josef Schulz' Rot-blau situated behind and to the left of Ingram's sculptural installation.

Ingram's I-beam configuration delves into a discussion of the importance of material and line in Modern architecture further emphasized by the placement of the beams to suggest a point of entry. For instance, Ingram's use of wood for the I-beams in place of its common structural steel material changes our perceptions of structure. Whereas Modernist architecture would require I-beams to be made of steel for structural safety and not meant to be seen, Ingram has made them of wood purposefully suggesting their appeal as a sculptural element and extracting them from the interior of a structure to then reside outside and independent of their intended architectural function. Schulz does something similar in the way in which he removes modern warehouse and factory buildings from their the intended purposes to reveal unique planar compositions imbued with an abstract sensibility.

In a selection of mass-produced industrial structures, often differentiated only by a slight variety in material for the facade, Berlin-based Schulz reveals the significance of line and shape in Modern architecture through the use of photographic imagery. Seemingly banal in their functional existence as storage warehouses and factory facilities, Schulz capitalizes on these structures potential as new industrial fortresses rising up from articulated Utopian landscapes. The force of the horizontal and vertical lines of Schulz' warehouse structures juxtaposes his feathery manipulation of slices of grass in some images or entire landscapes in others. Sometimes, as in Grau-orange from 2008, landscape has been completely removed, leaving a focus on the structures' definite monumentality. Schulz strips away any trace of the structure of a modern building in favor of Modernism's abstracted qualities which are reminiscent of Greenbergian Modernism's reduction of three-dimensional space. Although, Schulz' images suggest three-dimensional space by the angle in which they are photographed, there is a consorted effort to maintain the abstracted quality offered by the intersection of line and plane in these freestanding structures.

London artist Lucy Williams' collage-like "portraits" of both famous and obscure modern buildings and interiors combines her affinity for the structural engineering and aesthetics of 1950s and 60s architecture. Layering each composition from back to front, Williams painstakingly cuts thick white board, inserts some found, some fabricated materials, paints, glues, and assembles intricate architectural vignettes. She is essentially re-engineering a photographic image of a Modern architectural space in bas-relief. Additionally, Williams is working out her desire as both sculptor and painter by utilizing tools and techniques of both disciplines. This process has resulted in a very intricate and mind boggling investigation of Modernist architecture.

One of several works in the exhibition, Shopping Centre from 2006 could be considered an engineering feat in and of itself. Williams had to not only score and cute the white board to create one unified piece to use as the structure of the interior of the lobby of the shopping center but she also had to maintain consideration of the elements that run behind and in front of this initial ground in order to create a concise depiction. She proceeds to use paint, fibers, papers, plexi, and other materials she deems sufficient to reconstruct the interior space accurately.

Ingram, Schulz, and Williams draw on certain aspects of Modern architecture to explore its form, functionality and aesthetics within the context of contemporary art as another point of entry. Together, these three artists' explorations of Modern architecture continues the ever increasing dialogue between art and architecture.

53rd Annual La Biennale di Venezia 2009

As I planned and plotted my must see stops at the 2009 Venice Biennale, generously accumulated by recommendations and maps from friends and colleagues, I became my own worst itinerary. However, as I stepped off of the vaporetto onto the crunchy white gravel that links one pavilion to the next, all of my fastidious preparations, which is just the process I apparently like to put myself through, melted away and there I was looking and thinking once again in a way I enjoy most. The following are a few of my personal highlights at the Biennale as well as some additional thoughts.

Beginning on a high note, Fiona Tan's (b. 1966) audio-visual exhibition representing the Netherlands at the Dutch Pavilion brings together one new and two recent video works that not only embrace the theme of the Biennale, "Making Worlds," but also exemplify an acute curatorial eye. Curator of the Dutch Pavilion and Dean of the School of Art at the Cooper Union for the Advancement of Science and Art in New York, Saskia Bos, demonstrates a subtle and effective use of the exhibition space to give a sense of both prominence and unity to Tan's works. Tan's newest work Disorient (2009), produced specifically for the Dutch pavilion, sits central to the space. The position of the projection is set quite nicely so as to incorporate the wall of windows shaded by trees, allowing subtle shadow and light to filter into the exhibition space, enhancing the sense of lived environment. Upon entering, a man's voice reads excerpts from the account of Venetian merchant Marco Polo's journey through Asia in the latter half of the 13th Century. His voice is juxtaposed by sections of video exposing isolated views of the east. This friction is what gives Tan's work an entry point and produces continued and new dialogue surrounding the ever-present slippage between the "inability of the west to truly come to grips with the essence of the east." (http://www.designboom.com/weblog/cat/10/view/6800/dutch-pavilion-fiona-tan-at-the-venice-art-biennale-09.html).



Fiona Tan, Rise and Fall, 2009
Installation Images.


An adjoining space is more intimately staged with an addition of a half-wall to create a sense of enclosure. Here Tan explores contemporary portraiture inspired by 17th Century portrait paintings at the Rjiksmuseum, Amsterdam. Provenance (2008) is six small LCD screens showing portraits of local people in Tan's neighborhood engaged in subtle movements. The intimacy of the screen's size and the figure's movement within the frame create this very surreal sense of connection between the subject and the viewer. It's as if the portraits from The Golden Age, that we always seem to think look so real that they move, have actually come to life in our own time and show us the effect of intimacy and relation that owners of these paintings may have had in the 17th Century. Rise and Fall (2009) is a diptych video presentation on two vertical screens, which cycle between violent images of rushing waters and whipping winds, and subdued portraits and vignettes revealing intimacy through sensual touch. Tan gives the viewer just enough information to play upon our fantasies or to recall memories through expression of human touch and interaction. The rushing waters seem to act as a palette cleanser, whereby the artist gives the viewer a taste, and then washes it away in preparation for a new memories that continually build upon one another. One interesting aspect of this piece is the way in which Tan maintains a soft cool blue tone throughout the transition between images of figures and images of nature, producing an even more intense connection.

Into the Palazzo delle Esposizioni, nestled in a dark space in the very back of the building, is an installation called Experiment by Swedish artist Nathalie Djurberg, who won the Silver Lion prize at the Biennale. Stepping down into this lush and thriving over-sized garden one realizes that this is not your typical botanical experience. Upon closer inspection these claymation inspired flowers are coated in a resin-like material that creates a glistening wet and mucus-like sheen over the tops of them, making the installation look more like an alien breeding ground of some sort straight from a sci-fi horror film. Nestled is separate areas within the "garden" are three flat screen monitors, each showing a short raunchy claymation video. Complete with sexually repressed clergymen, sex and death in a black oil death pit, and writhing worse-for-wear nude claymation threesomes, Djurberg has truly created a new experience and a new world from which a myriad of responses, criticisms, and reflection both culturally and socially can be deduced. Lily Simonson's Art: 21 blog Nathalie Djurberg and Paul Chan: Making Weird Worlds at Birnbaum's Biennale makes a very interesting and poignant connection between Djurberg's "video reference to the process of psychoanalysis, like Chan’s invocation of mathematics and vague shadows" and how they "subtly instruct the viewer to interpret these bizarre violent orgies as symbolic of broader struggles." She goes on to conclude that while horrifying and quite peculiar both artists are addressing ideas that are profoundly universal in varying worlds. These are the young artists who draw visitors to the Biennale pilgrimage and make the trip a new experience.

I conclude with Bruce Nauman's installation of Topological Gardens - the official U.S. entry at the Biennale - which extended to three locations, only two of which I visited. The Universita Ca' Foscari stop had one of Nauman's newest works and a work that had been originally done in 1970 and recreated in the very space it was shown in this exhibition. The first piece, Giorni, 2009, is a 14 minute, 28 second, 14 channel loop of local individuals repeating the days of the week in Italian. Two rows of seven suspended white squares that rest at ear-level emit the woven and overlapping voices that echo within this long corridor. Aesthetically, the installation is simple and quite beautiful, the plain white squares allow the viewer to focus intently on the sound alone and how this may evoke ones own personal images associated with it. As I reflect now on the work I try to image how different it would have been had each of those blank squares been a video of the same person whose voice is heard. It would have certainly altered the perception of Nauman's investigation of topological space and not been as successful. It is that continuous moment of tension that Nauman is aware of and sets forth to create in his works that shines through in these exhibitions. He leaves just enough space for the viewer to slip into and experience a continuous sense of flux.

Another work in the exhibition, Untitled, 1970/2009, dances "almost quite literally" within the trajectory of the thematic concepts of Head and Hands and Sounds and Space which flow throughout Topological Gardens. A video is projected onto the floor of two women dressed in white, lying opposite one another, only touching by their hands, and spin atop a circular platform. As the platform rotates the women rotate their own bodies while maintaining straight limbs and keeping connected at their hands. The video plays within the very same space that this performance took place in one month earlier. This work truly emphasizes the topological relation to space and non-space.

My overall conclusion of the Biennale would have to be that if the title suggests "Making Worlds," which Daniel Birnbaum notes "is an exhibition driven by the aspiration to explore worlds around us as well as worlds ahead," then a more careful consideration of the space for artists as well as a broader selection of young/emerging artists and further collaboration would have tied the "theme" or "non-theme" of the fair much more perceptively. It was also quite awkward that Birnbaum was more insistent with pitching processed-based works against a more refined examples of "visual richness-abstract imagery and painting" in his statement about "Making Worlds" than he actually was about the world that is the Biennale and how this message could effectively be delivered sans the differentiation between media as that is to be expected at a world art fair. I am not convinced that the message of "new worlds emerging where worlds meet" came across so clearly in the curatorial presentation of the Biennale. Instead, it was instilled on a more individual artist basis than is was about a unification of worlds. I am especially responding to the idea that the "theme" could have been taken further.

For instance, if we are talking about making worlds and understanding the makeup of our own at the same time I would have loved to see a young artist, like Steve Locke present, whose work reflects on Modernism in a forward thinking fashion while smartly weaving in a very intimate humanist vein into his work. Or even an artist like, Victoria Fu who uses video, installation and drawing to explore the self-portrait in a way that also sustains our level of nostalgia and in many ways, like Fiona Tan, evokes memory through a cycle of moving images. Though Fu and Tan would not be exhibited in the same physical location it would have been quite interesting to establish and make note of links like this between artists in the fair, which would spark the connection of making new worlds and give meat to the critical edge of this Biennale.

It would have also been refreshing to see recently successful young artists like Nicholas Hlobo, whose work deals with issues of homosexuality in South Africa, and has recently had solo exhibitions at the ICA Boston and Tate Modern, London. Hlobo's media consists of using found materials like tire rubber, chairs, ribbon and fabric to develop sculptural works that question the notions of stereotyping object to sexuality. Hlobo's work also functions as a way to tie Xhosa traditions and language to modern South African culture.

There were an exuberant amount of talented artists at the fair, however, if the consideration was for moving away from a "monotonous sameness" as Birnbaum states, is cultivated from a "homogenizing tendency that involves a leveling of cultural differences," this did not come across as effectively as was hoped. I would have loved to see more artist collaboration like Brooklyn artist Swoon's fleet of three boats made entirely from "garbage" who took to the seas with a crew of 30 artists, musicians and interested parties. Docking in Venice for the fair, this project took on the mode of "Making Worlds" to its fullest. Or, even collaboration between participating artists who were interested in a collaborative project. Also, more group exhibitions within the overall context, like Venezuela's pavilion showing Mundos en Proceso (Worlds in Process) exploring the reality of the continued development of artistic production, could have really acted as a counter for this leveling of differences that the Biennale seeks to invest.