Color and Light

A review of Diana Thater's retrospective exhibition The Sympathetic Imagination in the Musuem of Contemporary Art, Chicago.

From the first step into the exhibition, visitors to Diana Thater’s retrospective The Sympathetic Imagination are immersed in a maze of color and light. Bees swarm across a honeycomb of artificial hexagons, scenes of the American landscape flash by at lightning speed, and strangely colored images of wolves encircle a room. Through Thater’s work, we are allowed to experience extraordinary videos of plants and animals, but are constantly reminded that we view these through the mediation of video, and our own human viewpoint.

Diana Thater began her work during the 1990s. She creates works of art which combine film, video, and installation, mainly revolving around the natural world and its relationship to humans. She is also interested in the ways a two-dimensional video can be expanded into space.

Knots + surfaces features a swarm of bees overlaid on a “hive” made of brightly colored, digitally constructed hexagons. This is a blatantly unnatural background and possible references the practice of keeping bees in man-made hives. It is also projected very large into the corner of the room. The bees become larger than life but warp strangely because of the corner. The other works on display all feature similar manipulation. In Abyss of Light, three side-by-side sequences switch between the same one hundred landscape images at differing speeds. China and Six-Color Video Wall both show six images of the same scene broken up into the primary and secondary colors of video: red, green, blue, cyan, magenta, and yellow. In Chernobyl, the viewer enters a small room in which they see scenes of nature struggling to survive in the site of the abandoned power plant surrounding them on every wall. Projected over these scenes are images of a crumbling movie theater in Pripyat (the abandoned city near Chernobyl) so that they seem to be viewed from inside the theater.

knots + surfaces (2001)

Abyss of Light (1993)

China (1995)

Six-Color Video Wall (2000)

Chernobyl (2011)

Unlike most documentaries, Thater does not attempt to involve the viewer in a realistic depiction of nature. The viewer is constantly reminded that video is an inherently unrealistic way in which to experience nature. In addition to the manipulation of the videos themselves, the projectors are made very visible in the rooms. They lie in the middle of the floor, or hang down conspicuously from the ceiling. In Delphine, the projector for one image sits right in the middle of another. Through experiencing the videos in this way, we are forced to challenge the idea that watching a video is essentially the same as being in nature directly, and that we can record situations without changing them by our presence.

Delphine (1999)

Thater immerses viewers in her works by projecting them very large in the tall ceilinged rooms of the gallery and by surrounding them in the small rooms. The space used in the MCA serves this purpose very well because of the rooms’ variation in size and the way they arranged. Many rooms connect to each other which makes for a non-linear progression. This lends the exhibition a maze-like feel, where I felt like I was always discovering some new offshoot with a new work inside. The low lighting and colored windows also contributed to this feeling of something mysterious and almost sacred.

Part of A Cast of Falcons (2000). This moon was projected on the
opposite wall of the huge room pictured below.

A Cast of Falcons features projections of the sun and moon
 on opposite walls, while falcons slide across the long wall.

Two blindfolded falcons are followed by an owl who is
 able to stare back at you.

Entrance to the exhibition. The windows were covered with colored
 plastic in order to tint the entire space blue.

By the immersion of the viewer and manipulation of the videos, the exhibition achieves a situation in which we can admire nature, while also considering our own impact on it. The use of the space to achieve this was very effective; each piece seemed to fit very well in whatever space it was in. There was a large variety of work, but it all felt tied together with the same idea. Overall, this was a beautiful retrospective which inspires thought as well as awe.

Evidence of the Infinite

A review of Dylan Yvonne Welch's exhibition Trace Evidence in Transpace at ISU.

I found the atmosphere of Trace Evidence to be similar to that of a museum display. I think this fits well with the art, which has a very scientific feel to it. The work is composed of many disparate, often geometric, pieces laid in intricate patterns. Additional patterns inside those pieces reference such things as stars, mountains, and sound waves. The result is holistic pieces whose mysterious “evidence” points back to the entire universe.

One of the Untitled pieces features a pyramid of triangles. Some of these triangles are created out of three-shaded triangles which make a pinwheel-like pattern. Some of those triangles are in turn created out of more three-shaded triangles. This same technique is found in other pieces such as Bucky Ball Net and another Untitled piece, which feature concentric hexagons and a repeating semicircle pattern, respectively. The use of the repeating patterns which grow smaller and smaller gives the feeling of something infinite. Perhaps they continue beyond what our eyes can perceive.

Untitled; with the pyramid of triangles

Bucky Ball Net

Close up of Bucky Ball Net

Untitled; with the semicircles

Close up of Untitled

Audium in the Morning resembles a series of planets. A series of geometric shapes forms a fairly spherical shape in the center of the page. Above and possibly “behind” it, several smaller spheres can be seen, with crinkled, earth-like textures. The star patterning around the edges of the paper reinforces the idea of planets in space.

Audium in the Morning

Unlike many shows in Transpace, this one is dimly lit with brighter lights shining only on each piece. This lighting is reminiscent of museum displays and reinforces the idea that you are supposed to be finding some sort of “evidence” in these works.

The use of small, modular pieces, repeating patterns, and various textures makes these pieces extremely interesting. They demand to be inspected for a long period of time, and yet one can still find something new each time they look again. I am compelled to keep searching for the evidence of some kind of universal truth.

Necker Space

Nesting I, II, and III

Language and Noise

A review of Bethany Collins' lecture at University Galleries on October 26, 2016.

                I found Bethany Collins’ “What Good is Science Fiction to Black People?” to be one of the most intriguing pieces in University Galleries’ current exhibition, so I was thrilled to find that she would be giving a lecture about her work. This talk proved very enlightening as I was able to learn more about her focus on deconstructing language in order to find its meaning in relation to race and the human experience. I now feel I understand the pieces at the show much better, as well as getting the opportunity to view a lot more of her work.

                Collins began her presentation talking about her White Noise series, and how she was “literally deconstructing that language [the sentence in the piece] in an attempt to deconstruct the meaning behind it.” These pieces consisted of the words of a sentence, usually some sort of problematic or strange statement pertaining to her race, such as “Do people ever think you’re white?” She repeats this statement over and over in white letters on black paper, but scatters them into constellation-like patterns so the sentence is no longer legible. Through this repetitive process, she is able to think through this statement more in order to find out all the meaning behind it, and the reasons someone would say this. She is also able to make, in her words, “something that started off as problematic….maybe more beautiful.” This was something I found very compelling about her work; it has all these intellectual ideas behind it which could be thought about and argued over for days, but it can also be appreciated as a beautiful and unique use of language.

"Dont You Think That's A Little Elitist?" (2010) from the White Noise series

Quiddity (2014), one of the contranyms

                Other, later work delves deeper into the significance of language as it relates to us. Collins says that “we assume language is neutral” but “if language is able to shift, it must shift according to some kind of index of us.” The idea that language reflects the culture which created it seems obvious on the one hand, but on the other, it is not something we usually acknowledge. She is right that most people see language as simply a carrier for whatever meaning they choose to give it. She attempts to illustrate that connection to us by using dictionary definitions of contranyms, words which have two definitions which apparently contradict each other. This calls attention to some of the absurdity of language, making us think about how it is a man-made creation which is capable of flaws and bias. She erases everything but the definitions she wants to appear with her own spit in some cases, reinforcing that connection to the body and human nature.

Grey (2014), the beginning of Collins' work with dictionary definitions

Bound (2015), eraser shavings from one of the contranyms

                I feel privileged to have received a glimpse into Bethany Collins’ working process. Her work is very thought-provoking on its own, but now that I also have this background knowledge, I feel like I have a lot more avenues to consider when attempting to analyze it. She explained what she was trying to accomplish very well without going into too much detail about what exactly every piece means, so that her work still retains the mystery and need for thought which drew me to it originally.

Colorblind Dictionary (2013-2014), a dictionary with everything relating to color erased out

Southern Review,1987 (2014) magazine pages with the text blocked out with charcoal

Appreciating the Ordinary

A review of /kōō/, by Brandon Siscoe and Mike Stephen, and Prayer for Springfield, by Industry of the Ordinary, at Demo Project in Springfield.

“Pulverized wisdom teeth cast into penny. Zinc coated lemon and quilt.” These are a few of the strange relics on display at Demo Project’s exhibition of /kōō/ by Michael E Stephen and Brandon Siscoe. While outside of the gallery, Industry of the Ordinary conducts a barbecue promoting the message: We Want to be Ordinary.

vestige: pulverized wisdom teeth cast into penny

never sweet: zinc coated lemon and quilt

                /Kōō/ consists of an array of sculptural objects, placed around the white walls of the house that is the Demo Project. At first glance, these objects do not seem especially remarkable – ordinary, even. One may see only a broom in the corner, or a tv tray with a remote and a glass of milk placed on it. The really exceptional aspect of these pieces is in the materials, which could be found listed on a separate sheet of paper at the gallery. On this sheet, the remote is revealed to have been sculpted out of incinerated VHS cassettes and diamond dust. The broom is accented with a real crow’s foot and placed next to a mottled black and white piece of paper, which turns out to be an enlarged photomicrograph of a moon rock from Apollo 11. Upon closer inspection, these seemingly ordinary objects turn out to have very interesting stories behind their creation. In some cases, they also contain very valuable materials, as in the case of the remote, or special edition – a magazine plated in 24k gold.

Back wall of the exhibition

Left wall of the exhibition

muted: incinerated vhs cassettes and diamond
 dust cast into zenith tv remote with tv tray
and cold glass of milk

broom and crow foot: broom, crow foot,
 and enlarged photomicrograph of an
apollo 11 moon rock

Enlargement of the moon rock photomicrograph

special edition: issue #1 of fangoria magazine (1979) plated in 24k gold

                Outside, Industry of the Ordinary’s barbecue contains a series of propaganda-like messages promoting the value of being ordinary. A flag hanging on the side of the house proclaims “I WANT TO BE ORDINARY.” The buns are each branded with the word “ORDINARY,” and the cups read “I AM ORDINARY” on one side, and “YOU ARE NOT” on the other. Apparently some people were unhappy with this because taken along with its title, Prayer for Springfield, it seems to be encouraging Springfield to be ordinary. Being ordinary is viewed very negatively in a society which, according to Demo Project’s web site, “values celebrity above substance and material wealth above simpler pleasures.” The idea of the piece seems to have been to promote a more positive connotation of the word ordinary. With this in mind, the two shows actually complement each other extremely well.

Ordinary buns

Ordinary banner

                 None of the objects in /Kōō/ seem very special at first glance. There is a ladder, a book, a quilt, a paper airplane. These are objects we see every day, and it may be unclear at first why they are in this gallery. What is the “art” here? It was only once I picked up the paper and found out how these objects were created that I appreciated how interesting they actually were. The exhibition provided me with a new idea of the ordinary which I could use to understand Prayer for Springfield. In this conception of the ordinary, there is no need for fame and riches because everyday people are appreciated just as much as celebrities are now. We have learned to recognize the value in seemingly average people and things, instead of striving desperately to be viewed as special.

ascension: photo of hale-bopp comet folded into paper airplane

earplugs: carved from a fossilized inner ear bone of a whale

A Life of Enchantment

A review of Lines of Enchantment, Wonsook Kim's exhibition at Illinois State University.

                With one look at Wonsook Kim’s work, the meaning of the title Lines of Enchantment becomes abundantly clear. My eyes went first to the wall of six large paintings depicting beautiful fairy tale-like settings filled with mysterious floating lights and figures composed of fluid, graceful lines. The group of “Shadow Drawings,” bronze figures created in outline which cast shadows on the wall as if they were drawn on, is similarly captivating.

3 of the "Forest Scene" paintings

Wall of Shadow Drawings

               

           Kim was born in Korea and moved to the U.S. in order to study at Illinois State University. Whether she is creating paintings, prints, or bronze sculptures, one can always find the same loose lines and similar figures. She also uses recurring symbols such as shelters or small boats alone on the water, in order to reflect the journey of life and the longing that comes along with it.

The exhibition at University Galleries features Kim’s more recent work, from 2008 to 2015, as well as her very early work from 1973-76. The six attention-grabbing paintings known as “Forest Scenes” take up the right wall. The front wall is devoted to large scale Shadow Drawings. The remaining two walls of the gallery are covered with multiple, mostly smaller works. One, on the left when entering the gallery, is a mix of small bronze sculptures, house-shaped paintings on wood, and white and blue paintings done by applying a thick, textured layer of white paint to a blue surface, then scraping away lines to reveal the blue. The remaining wall is where Kim’s early work can be found. These are black-and-white prints and drawings, mixed among more recent Shadow Drawings.

Catcher in the Forest (2010)
and
Drawing in the Light II (2012)

Forest Scenes II (2008)

The wall of smaller works

The decision to include this older work really added another dimension to the exhibit. These drawings are in some ways a harsh contrast from the rest of the work, especially the gentle paintings. While the figures still bore Kim’s trademark flowing lines, some of the works also contained harsher, more nervous lines. These lines combined with the dark ink and charcoal, brought a darker, slightly ominous feeling into the show.

Wall containing early work and Shadow Paintings

Close-up of several of these works

Feather Feather (1975)
and Black Mirror I (1974)

Considering the artist’s desire to portray life and longing, this work provides interesting insight into thinking about how her life may have influenced the development of her art. The early prints and drawings were produced during her study at Illinois State. This was when she recently moved, and would have been feeling that loneliness most strongly. Her more recent work seems more lighthearted, filled with joyful, dancing figures and glowing lights.

Including those darker pieces also allowed me to view the others in light of this. It is possible to look at the paintings and Shadow Drawings and be so focused on their “enchantment” that one sees only this charming, dreamlike quality. After I saw those prints, I started to see that somber quality reflected in some of the other pieces. The Shadow Drawing Eyes on Me (2011) depicts a woman sitting with eyes all around her. The piece is slightly eerie and evokes the idea of people judging this woman. The Shadow Drawing next to it, Silence (2014), portrays a bust of another woman, this time with her hand over her face, perhaps in grief. One of the white paintings, Shadow Talk (2014), outlines a woman holding hands with her shadow, her head bowed. Perhaps the shadow is someone she has lost in her life.­

Silence (2014)

Eyes on Me (2011)

Shadow Talk (2014)

While Wonsook Kim’s work is beautiful however you view it, I really admire the decision to include her early pieces in this exhibition. It helped me to look deeper into her work and gain a fuller appreciation of it as an enchanting representation of life, during the good times as well as the bad. 

The Perks of Being Uncomfortable

A review of Danny Volk's lecture at University Galleries.

When asked about his ideas on humor, Danny Volk responded that the humor in his work is “really uncomfortable.”  At the risk of sounding derogative, I will say that this phrase is actually a rather apt description of his lecture. This is not meant to be an insult at all; I think one can be uncomfortable in a good way. It means you are experiencing something new, which you are not quite sure how to react to yet.

Volk could be broadly classified as a performance artist, although he does not always “perform” in front of your typical audience. Some of his work may never be shared with anyone outside of those who were included in the making of the piece, such as his therapy sessions. Volk’s work spans a wide range, from plays and interviews, to getting a job at GAP and managing a boy band.

GAP model Volk

One thing Volk said which really stuck with me was another quote about the humor in his work: “I hope that one isn’t just laughing at it, that one is sort of stuck between two places with their laughter.” While he did not say this until the end, it really sums up how I felt listening to him explain his work. There is an odd sense of humor to it, such as having a balloon choir during his play. But just when you think he only did something for the laughs, he reveals it as being much deeper. When he introduced his GAP project, for example, saying he wanted to give performances one on one, my first thought was some sort of prank. Even the picture he used to introduce it was rather humorous: an awkward photo of himself posing as a GAP model. Then when he explained further, it became clear that it was not a trick or joke, he really was just working at GAP, and recording conversations and experiences he had with customers. As he says, this experience “allowed me to develop an intimate relationship while following someone else’s rules.” What I expected to be funny took an abrupt turn into these serious, sometimes intimate exchanges, and I didn’t really know how to react anymore.

One of the GAP experiences recorded on found paper.

I got a similar vibe from his description of being a manager for the boy band Still Boys. There were a lot of funny aspects to this, such as Danny’s apparent dream to manage a boy band, as well as the band itself. Despite calling themselves a boy band, the members are in their thirties, and they dress up as an eye, mouth and tongue for their performances. Then it started to get a bit odd. He talked about the band manager as a character who fell in love with the eye, and showed a video of the band hanging out in a hotel room, which he apparently took as part of a kind of documentary. He also talked about them writing a handwritten contract on the hotel stationary, because it seemed more real or special somehow than the typed one. Again, these stories were something I felt like I could almost laugh at, but it had gotten too personal. It felt like Volk had just let me in on a private aspect of his life that I shouldn’t have heard.

Still Boys poster

Still Boys performance as eye, mouth, and tongue.

Volk’s lecture itself became one of his performances in this way. Just by describing and showing photos (and sometimes video) of his work, he was able to create the same sense of discomfort he felt the original work conveyed. This was a new work though, it wasn’t as if he was repeating past performances. There is a fundamental difference between performing one on one at GAP and displaying the record of that in a gallery, just as there is another difference between doing those things and then telling an audience about doing them. I find it interesting how he can create so many different works out of one performance. Listening to Volk’s lecture, I felt I was hearing about something truly unique. His cultivation of discomfort forced me to think about how I feel about things versus how I expected how I would feel. I think everyone could do with feeling uncomfortable a little more often. 

A member of Still Boys from the documentary.