Friday, August 7, 2009

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.

Friday, May 15, 2009

Olafur Elaisson: Take Your Time

Olafur Eliasson, 360° room for all colours, 2002; installation view at the
Kunstmuseum Wolfsburg, Germany, 2004; Private collection, courtesy
Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, New York; photo: Jens Ziehe; © 2009 Olafur
Eliasson. Permission to reproduce from MOCA, Chicago.


Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago
May 1, 2009

Danish-Icelandic artist Olafur Eliasson's solo exhibition at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Chicago is certainly an exhibition that will awaken senses and sensations that may have lay dormant. Eliasson says that his art works are "devices for the experience of reality." Each formal work embodies elements which create independently immersive environments; collectively, they form an experience of intense individual perception.

360 room for all colours, 2002, is situated further within the gallery spaces - reachable via two paths of entry - glowing like a pulsating beacon. The controlled unit environment is contained within a white rotunda - the structure sound and tactile from the exterior and bewilderingly ethereal on the interior - immersing the viewer in a extremely reductive landscape via the color spectrum. Immediately, the intensity of light and color forces the viewer to make cognitive adjustments and even the muscles of the eyes and face react uncontrollably to the abrupt change in environment creating self-awareness. Then suddenly, as if a spectacularly zenith moment takes over, the body settles into the new space and light. Interestingly, the mind does not. As the physical body adjusts, the mind flows serenely through the space attempting to explore these newly introduced perceptions of space and color, both tangible and intangible. I found myself suddenly relaxed and moving my eyes and hands very slowly through the space in an effort to wrap my mind around the mechanics of the work and at the same time experiencing the sensations that flowed in as the fluorescent lights engulfed the space. My mind and body truly began to slow down.

The wonderful thing about this show is that each work and each new space that one moves through in the gallery evokes a new new combination of sensations and a new dichotomy between tangible and intangible senses of perception. Passing over to the the South gallery space of the museum a brilliant yellow light from Room for one colour, 1997, beckons the viewer into a long narrow hall. Intense monochromatic bulbs move along the ceiling of the hall in striation, emitting light at a very narrow frequency, which affect our normal perception of color (Exhibition pamphlet, MOCA, Chicago). The artist hopes that our various states of self-awareness and reflection on larger conditions of creative involvement will spring forth in our own personal and civic lives (Madeleine Grynsztejn, MCA Pritzker Director, MOCA, Chicago). I think that as we begin to realize how we work through each of these pieces it brings about a greater overall awareness to sensations that we may not call upon often and also entices us to engage on new levels of perception.

After exiting the light drenched avenue that seems to vibrate with the extreme sensation of light, the exhibition turns into a space filled with the swaying motion and sound of air breezing by on a single fan hanging down from the ceiling titled Ventilator, 1997. Propelled back and forth across the room from its own momentum the fan engages with the walls of the gallery space and shifts and changes its direction dependent upon the number and location of individuals within the gallery. Swinging above the heads of the viewers the fan seems to have no direction until it meets another surface. In the context of how Eliasson envisions a goal for the work in a larger social arena to cultivate awareness, by putting ourselves in the position of the fan, it helps us to conceive of how we move in the world. As the fans energy is reflected off of and absorbed by the viewers and by the space around it, so to are we - as the fan - affected by the individual(s) and spaces that we come in contact with. It is our self-reflection and awareness of these interactions that allows us to control our movements unlike the fan. Ventilator becomes a very poetic aspect of this idea, not only within the context of the exhibition, but in the way in which Eliasson suggests that we take our time and truly be present to experience this reality.

Monday, May 11, 2009









Victoria Fu
The Afterlife of Memory

Artist Becoming Become-Artist: Memory and the Artist Self-portrait

I recently had the opportunity to curate a solo exhibition of new work by multi-media artist Victoria Fu. After spending quite a bit of time thinking about the work and spending some time with the artist there are some very interesting and poignant aspects of the work which have presented themselves. Firstly, there are ideas about memory that started my path to thinking about how memory is presented through an object of nostalgia, the locket, and how a selection of moving images can function much in the same way that a photograph does. Concomitantly, these objects and images, because they are not our own memories, opens up a dialogue of memory, which prompts us to engage with the idea that memories need not be our own in order to function as a personal memory.

The oval structure of the suspended lockets is mirrored in the inlaid videos, the cropping and careful choices of shapes that reappear in the video and subtly reflect in Fu's drawings are a constant element, which not only create a very cohesive thread throughout the work but also reinforces the sense of nostalgia. This oval shape is quite comforting, like a womb, it embraces the artists imagery that she nurtures with the careful placement of selective imagery.
Within these vignettes lies an unsettling sense of memory and displaced nostalgia. Modeled after 19th century mourning lockets, these vessels hold 16mm and Super 8 films which act as daguerreotypes or tintypes. While the figures within these vessels slowly move and suggest a change of time and hint at the familiarity of these relationships and places, an unsettling shift in memory keep us from completing these moving images as a true memory.

An interesting layer to this work is that these moving images and drawings create a form of the artist self-portrait. The artist self-portrait has been recognized for having the capacity to establish accurate recollection of an historical identity and provide guidance for preserving the past. These notions prompt further query as the role of memory presents itself within the discourse of the artist self-portrait. The Deleuzian conception of becoming explores the role of memory as a conduit for the exchange of differences that occur between the artist’s own continuous becoming, and as he or she become-artist simultaneously. Fu’s self-portraits and use of media alongside consideration of time and space help to buttress Gilles Deleuzes’ philosophy. Fu’s construction of fictional histories and false nostalgia presents a theme of displacement that works with Deleuze’s notion of memory, which supports both recollection and the present. In turn, this idea of memory prompts the viewer to think about the artist self-portrait as a unifying creative power that presents something new rather than an identifying imitation of historical identity.

Image credit: SCAD Photography