Tripping Around The Triennial

Finally, during the third iteration of the NGV Triennial, I’ve realized that the appreciation of this exhibition is a matter of mindset.  If you go in with an open mind, keen to see what people are getting up to these days then you may be pleasantly surprised.  But be warned - we are living through troubling times so expect to see some troubling work.   The NGV magazine tells us that the Triennial is anchored in three themes; Matter, Magic and Memory.  Nearly 100 works from over 30 countries have been assembled in this exhibition with overtones encompassing race relations, climate crisis, AI and war.

Julian Charriere, And beneath it all flows liquid fire  (NGV)

Australian Design Review tells us that the theme of ‘magic’ represents the influence of spirituality on constructing an understanding of the world around us, whereas ‘matter’ symbolises how nature and materials shape human culture. The exhibition’s theme of ‘memory’ will illuminate how the histories of people, places and objects continue to impact our contemporary world.  

As with the Melbourne Now exhibition several months earlier, part of the Triennial has its own dedicated spaces whilst other parts are inserted into the permanent collection. 

For some reason, the thoughts of the late Robert Hughes came to my mind when viewing this exhibition.  “The Age of Anxiety” was the title Hughes gave to the final episode of his 1996 TV series “American Visions”.  We are still living with this anxiety today although the focus has shifted from the aftermath of the disastrous Vietnam War to climate change, the loss of habitat and species and the realization that our natural resources are not infinite.  Apparently it’s the intention of many artists participating in the Triennial to address these issues.

Ashley Jameson Eriksmoen, ‘Fell’,  timber salvaged from furniture (Geoff Harrison)

The work “Fell” clearly has environmental and sustainability overtones, but visually it’s stunning.  Eriksmoen is a designer/artist who has won a number of awards including for furniture design.

Tracey Emin,  'Love Poem For CF', 2007  (NGV)

Robert Hughes had real issues with what he regarded as preachy, single issue ‘art’ where “victim credentials can account for more than aesthetic achievement”.  So true, and this came to my mind whilst viewing this work my Tracey Emin - and it’s a recent NGV acquisition.

Agnieszka Pilat, 'Hetrobota 2023' (Geoff Harrison)

Pilat trained these Boston Dynamics robot dogs to behave in distinctly different ways.  Basia is the oldest, the most serious and the introvert; Bunny is the narcissist and the artist while Vanya is the protector, monitoring what’s going on. What freaks me out is the thought that in a few years time we will look back at this work and think how primitive it was, given the relentless advances in technology towards - who knows where?

SMACK, 'Speculum'  (Youtube)

This is meant to be a digital remake of Hieronymus Bosch’s renaissance masterpiece “Garden of Earthly Delights” where ‘the banal temptations of modernity, consumerism and the obsession with technology take the place of the Devil’s apple offered to Adam and Eve, which led to their downfall.’  As a friend pointed out, there is no sex and gore in this remake - I wonder why?

Franziska Furter, 'Liquid Skies/Gywrynt' & 'Haku', climate carpet and glass beads (Artshub)

The carpet depicts multiple satellite images of storms with a shower of glass beads overhead.  This installation is cleverly juxtaposed against wild seascapes painted by J W M Turner and others.  Furter draws constant inspiration from the weather for her work.  “It forces me to become aware of what is now.  As a recurring theme, the weather constantly shapes and changes my work as it constantly shapes and changes the world.”  She is a great fan of the BBC’s Shipping Forecast which has been regularly broadcast since 1861.

Flora Yukhnovich, ‘A Taste Of A Poison Paradise’, oil on canvas, 160 x 275 cm (Hauser & Worth)

This work takes its name from the 2003 Brittany Spears hit song “Toxic”.  Spears was arguably at the peak of her career back then, but shortly afterwards her life imploded with mental health issues engulfing her.  So are we looking at the aftermath of an explosion destroying a beautiful still life in the tradition of the Dutch masters?

Osamu Mori " 3MMM-Rivalry", Camphor laurel, (Geoff Harrison)

The human figure has been carved into a 120 year old camphor tree.  Traditionally, camphor has been employed for its aromatic scent as an embalming fluid, and thus this work could be seen as representing the healing powers of nature.

Jessica Murtagh, "Modern Relic IV, All In This Together, Apart", sandblasted & engraved glass (Geoff Harrison)

The NGV tells us that Murtagh draws inspiration from ancient Athenian ceramic amphoras known for their depiction of scenes from everyday life.  Here we see individuals wearing face masks queuing at a Centrelink office.

Glenn Brown "After Greuze"," After Rembrandt", "After De Gheyn II/Greuze", etching  (NGV)

The ancient art of printmaking as not been overlooked in this exhibition either.  Brown appropriates historical art in his paintings and sculptures and in recent years has extended his conceptual concerns to drawing and printmaking. 

Fernando Laposse, "Avocado Leather Cabinet", avocado skin & walnut (Geoff Harrison)

This is part of Laposse’s Conflict  Avocado series where he exposes the devastating impact the corrupt and violent avocado industry is having on forest ecosystems in Mexico, and on the lives of those who depend on it.

The Community of Maningrida, Arnhem Land, "Maningrida Fish Fence", Pandanus & natural dyes (Geoff Harrison)

The tradition of weaving goes back a long time in the community of Maningrida.  The Burarra women of Maningrida use natural materials such as pandanus leaves, kurrajong and various bark fibres to produce their work.

Azuma Makoto, "Block Flowers", flowers in resin, (Geoff Harrison)

130 of these boxes have been mounted around a digital video piece titled “Drop Time” depicting the life cycle of flowers in hyper speed.  “A mark of celebration and sorrow, flowers have historically been used to acknowledge life, death and the passing of time”.

"Megacities Project", 10 photographers’ images across 19 suspended screens (Geoff Harrison)

This work was commissioned by the NGV where leading photographers were engaged to capture the environment of 10 mega cities - defined as having more than 10 million inhabitants.  In the 1950’s there were only 2 of them, by 2022 there were more than 30 - with half of them to be found in Asia. 

Any gripes?  A few including the paintings of Prudence Flint which leave me cold; the Yoko Ono installation “My Mommy Is Beautiful” has taken well over a decade to get here and we’ve definitely been short-changed on the work of artist/prankster Maurizio Cattelan.  His banana taped to a wall is hardly the highlight of his career.  I would have much preferred his fully-functioning 18 karat gold toilet titled “America”. 

Many of the works in this exhibition were commissioned by the NGV and will join the gallery’s permanent collection.  Overall, I’m inclined to give this exhibition the thumbs up - as per the sculpture outside the gallery entrance.

References;

National Gallery of Victoria

Artshub

Hauser & Worth

Australian Design Review

Maurizio Cattelan - Prankster Artist

It’s probably best if I commence this blog with a quote from gallerist Adam Lindemann, “I think he’s probably one of the greatest artists that we have today, but he could also be the worst. It’s going to be one or the other.  It’s not going to fall in the middle.”

With an artist like Maurizio Cattelan, I’ve wondered if it would be more appropriate to cram this blog with images of his work and write nothing – allowing viewers to draw their own conclusions.  Critic Ben Lewis has been a fan of Cattelan for years, even making a documentary film about him in 2003.  He considers Cattelan to have a unique, comical imagination who produces work that is politically and critically engaged – a cartoonist who works in 3D.

“Stephanie” (2003) This sculpture of Stephanie Seymour was commissioned by her magnate husband Peter Brant. A trophy wife? It was sold at auction in 2010 for over $2.4m.

Of course it would make life easier if Cattelan gave interviews, but until recently he didn’t.  Instead he engaged a “double” to act on his behalf who was under strict instructions not to answer questions.  But naturally, being a reclusive simply adds to the mystery of his work.

“Untitled” (2001) An elevator for mice?

He’s been described as an art world upstart who for years has produced playful, provocative and subversive work that sends up the artistic establishment.  A classic example is when he duct taped his dealer Massimo di Carlo to the wall of a gallery for a day.  Later di Carlo had to be rushed to hospital after he almost suffered a stroke.

“A Perfect Day” 1999

So there is a cruel twist to Cattelan’s humour which is reminiscent of medieval imagery.  And typical of many artists these days, he doesn’t make his own work.  He employs skilled craftsman, taxidermists etc to do it for him – sometimes remotely.  The craftsman who made the model for the Pope struck by a meteorite had no idea what Cattelan’s objectives were.  He thought Cattelan wanted a kneeling Pope.  Afterwards, Cattelan cut the legs off before plonking the rock over him.

“The Ninth Hour” (2003) This work was once exhibited at the Royal Academy before being auctioned for almost $1m in New York.

Sometimes, Cattelan’s black humour is directed towards himself.  When a publisher wanted to make a book about his work, Cattelan insisted it be a quarter of the size of other books in the series.  Taking his cue from Duchamp and the conceptualists, Cattelan was exploiting the nonsense that art had become.  He once exhibited a crime report prepared by the police after he claimed a work of his called Invisible was stolen from his girlfriend’s car.

“Him”. (2001) Hitler in the body of a 12 yo. Is he praying for forgiveness?

Clearly, one of Cattelan’s objectives is to question the relevance of contemporary art to the rest of society by poking fun at it.  He achieves this brilliantly in the work “Strategies” in which the contemporary art scene is presented as a house of cards.  Flash Art was a leading arts publication at the time.

“Strategies” (1990)

Cattelan claimed he was retiring in 2011.  I doubt if anyone took him seriously.  Five years later he came up with “America”, a fully functioning toilet made out of 18 carat gold.  Then in December 2019 he created a storm at the Art Basel in Miami Beach when he exhibited “Comedian” – a real banana taped to a wall.  Produced in an edition of 3, it was priced at $120,000 and the edition was sold out.

“America” (2016) and “Comedian” (2019).

The Guardian draws a comparison between the 2 works.  In America he seems to be reducing a precious metal to the base for disposing the results of consuming bananas.  “Cattelan’s toilet mocked the money-obsessed art world by being potentially more valuable for its raw material than its concept – reflecting a market that can turn shit into gold. His banana makes the same joke the other way round by being glaringly not worth its asking price.”

Perhaps. And that’s the thing about Maurizio Cattelan.  Born in Italy in 1960, the son of a cleaning lady and a truck driver, he had no formal art training but has become the master of ambiguity.

A retrospective of Maurizio Cattelan held at the Guggenheim Museum in 2011.

References;  How To Get A Head in the Art World – Art Safari BBC 2003

                      Bananaman; Who Is Maurizio Cattelan? – The Art Newspaper podcast 2019

                     Don’t Make Fun At The $120,000 Banana - The Guardian

The Woman Who Conquered Marcel Duchamp

In the final 20 years of his life, Marcel Duchamp secretly carried out work on an installation piece that none of his friends were aware of at all.  Quite an achievement for one of the 20th Century’s most famous artists. He gave explicit instructions that it was not to be displayed to the public until after his death which was in 1968, and the work had puzzled and intrigued friends and art critics alike for more than 30 years since.  It had been assumed that Duchamp had given up producing art decades before – but not so.

Marcel Duchamp, ‘Etant Donnes’ (Given), 1948-68, mixed media

The personal drama that inspired this masterpiece is as fascinating as the piece itself.  Born in 1887, Duchamp was a French painter, sculptor, chess player and writer whose work is associated with Cubism, Dada, conceptualism, whatever took his fancy at the time.  Early in his career he experimented with various painting styles which he later referred to as his swimming lessons.  Having become proficient in a particular style, he got bored with it and moved on to the next.  The final painting during this restless period was the now famous Nude Descending A Staircase which was regarded by Cubists of the period as an affront to their genre.

Marcel Duchamp, ‘Nude Descending A Staircase’, 1912 oil on canvas, 147 cm x 89 cm

As a consequence, Duchamp removed himself from the Cubist coterie and never worked within a group again.  He said he was never comfortable being in a group because he always wanted to make a personal contribution.

He then decided to subvert centuries of art history with his readymades, everyday objects which he turned into art simply by adding his signature.  The most notorious being a urinal he submitted to an exhibition in 1917.   He once said he didn’t care for the word “art”, it’s been so discredited. And after being reminded that he had contributed to this discrediting himself, he agreed but also referred to the ‘unnecessary adoration’ of art today.  “But this is hard for me because I have been in it all my life and yet I want to get rid of it”.  A conflicted individual, perhaps?

One of his more perplexing works was “Bride Stripped Bare By Her Bachelors, Even” or “Large Glass” which was thought to reflect his inability to combine sexual and emotional involvement.  It is an etching in glass which he worked on for 8 years from 1915.

Marcel Duchamp, ‘Bride Stripped Bare By Her Bachelors, Even”

The top glass is thought to contain the bride whilst below her are nine bachelors seeking to be united with her but are locked in an endless cycle of frustration.  The remarkable American artist Beatrice Wood (1892 – 1998) fell in love with Duchamp in 1916, but found him perplexing and emotionally detached.  He was regarded by his friends as the king of the bachelors, but then along came Maria Martins.

Martins was the wife of the Brazilian ambassador to the United States.  They arrived in New York in 1939.  Early in her life in Brazil it was thought that she would become a professional musician, instead she became a very accomplished sculptor. After her first marriage ended she moved to France where she met and then married the diplomat Carlos Martins Pereira e Souza, and through his various postings, she learnt a variety of styles from woodcarving, ceramics to bronze carving  which would become her medium of choice.

Maria Martins, ‘The Impossible’ 1946, Bronze

Not long after arriving in New York she fell in with a group of surrealist exiles which included André Breton, Max Ernst, André Masson and inevitably Marcel Duchamp.  The surrealists had an impact on her work which became more complex, organic and plant like but still drew on Amazonian folklore.  The female figure was always central to her work.

Maria Martins, ‘However II’ 1948, Bronze

Martins began her passionate affair with Duchamp in 1946.  Her daughter, Nora Martins Lobo thought it was extraordinary that they could get involved given that they were so different – he, a cold, withdrawn intellectual and she a passionate person who loved and hated violently.  At this time her life alternated between the diplomatic circle in Washington and a more bohemian life in New York.  He was fascinated by her and she found him a challenge and according to her daughter, Maria loved challenges.

Duchamp’s biographer, Calvin Tomkins, believes this relationship opened him up emotionally in ways that had never happened before.  He was unable to maintain the emotional detachment that had characterised so much of his life.  In 1947 Duchamp produced an erotic sketch of her that confirms Maria was the model for the Etant Donnes.

During their 2 year affair Duchamp encouraged Maria’s development as a sculptor, spending many hours in her studio and helping to organise exhibitions of her work.  But in 1948, her husband was posted overseas – and off she went.  This left Duchamp devastated and he wrote a series of despairing letters begging her to return whilst working on the Etant Donnes.

In an interview, Nora Martins Lobo draws attention to the sculpture ‘However II’ (above) and how the figure has her feet firmly on the ground – and that was her mother.  She knew she had to stop flying and come back to earth.  Maria and Duchamp met briefly in 1951 and he resigned himself to the fact that it was over.  “I feel happy when I think of you”, he wrote.

Duchamp was briefly married in 1927, but in 1954 he married Alexina Matisse (Teeny), daughter in-law of Henri.  They had a happy marriage and she helped him construct the Etant Donnes.  Late in the development, he changed the colour of the hair in the model to match Teeny’s, not Maria’s. In accordance with his wishes, the Etant Donnes was installed in a room next to the Large Glass at the Philadelphia Museum of Art.  Initially the public is confronted by a large wooden door that Duchamp found in Spain and had transported back to New York.  Through 2 peep holes, the viewer can see a body moulded in plaster and pig skin sprawled out on grass and twigs (first image).

When it was revealed to the public, the work came as a shock to those who thought they knew him as it seemed a denial and contradiction of everything he stood for.

In 1966 a major retrospective of Duchamp’s work was being installed in London by artist Richard Hamilton.  Shortly before the exhibition opened a mysterious package arrived from Brazil which contained the picture below.  The sender was Maria Martins.  Hamilton spoke of taking Duchamp on an inspection of the show just before the opening and when they came to this picture, Duchamp seemed initially shocked and then clammed up, not wanting to talk about it.

Maria Martins died in 1973 at the age of 78 and spent her last few years holding occasional exhibitions before turning to writing essays on poetry.

Maria Martins, ‘Night Chant’ 1968, (her last sculpture), gold bronze

References;

The Secret of Marcel Duchamp – BBC/RM Arts, 1997

www.awarewomenartists.com

Let There Be Coloured Light - Dan Flavin

It was more than a coincidence that a nation that gave us Donald Judd could also produce the artist Dan Flavin.  In fact, the two met in 1962 at a gathering in a Brooklyn apartment organised to discuss the possibility of a cooperative artist-run gallery.  Their friendship developed and the two became known as “Flavin and Judd” for a while, indeed Judd named his son Flavin Starbuck Judd.

Untitled 1970

Many of Flavin’s installations were site-specific, such as the one above.  In the December 1965 issue of Artforum, Flavin wrote “I knew that the actual space of a room could be broken down and played with by planting illusions of real light (electric light) at crucial junctions in the room’s composition.”

In the final episode of his 1996 series “American Visions”, critic Robert Hughes referred to the age of anxiety in modern America, fed by the cold war and the general disillusionment with government following the Watergate scandal and the Vietnam War.  He visited the Judd ‘shrine’ in Marfa, Texas to illustrate his point, but he could equally have visited a Flavin installation for while the play of coloured light could be construed as beautiful, there is an anxiousness with his vast empty scenes.

Untitled (for Ksenija) 1994

Flavin was born in New York in 1933.  He became a Catholic altar boy and trained to be a priest.  He recalled being ''curiously fond of the solemn high funeral Mass, which was so consummately rich in candlelight, music, chant, vestments, processions and incense.''  This, no doubt, became a major influence on his work as an artist.  He is described as a minimalist sculptor and is considered to be the first artist to employ electric light in a sustained way.

Installation at Menil’s Richmond Hall 1996

An article in the New York Times describes Flavin’s art as “brazenly radical and very much in the vein of Marcel Duchamp's ready-mades”, but apart from the use of manufactured materials, I don’t see any correlation at all.  But then the article goes on to describe Flavin’s installations as having an “ecstatic beauty that was at once painterly and architectural”.

Flavin became adept at combining the intense lines of colour of the light tube with their softer diffuse glow and the geometric arrangements of the tubes.  In 1971, he illuminated the entire rotunda of the Guggenheim Museum, but he was just as successful illuminating a corner as below.

It was very daring of Flavin to move sculpture away from the figurative to the impersonal use of industrial materials.  In 1989, he extended his range by illuminating the exterior of the Staatliche Kunsthalle in Baden Baden, Germany.  Works such as these have been described as symphonic.  I often wonder if he had an influence on artists such as Olafur Eliasson and Kimsooja who I covered in earlier blogs.

Flavin arrived at the idea of using fluorescent tubes after several years of painting and drawing in the abstract expressionistic manner.  These were followed by a brief period in the late 1950's and early 60's of making boxy wall reliefs in strong monochromatic colours, to which he attached coloured light bulbs and fluorescent tubes.

According to the PBS program The Art Assignment, minimalist sculptors decided to abandon the pedestal to dismantle the separation between the viewer and the art.  Judd argued these works were neither painting nor sculpture but specific objects occupying space that didn’t necessarily reference anything.   And it’s worth noting that the artists themselves hated the term minimalism.

Work such as Flavin’s contains no secret, no hidden meaning, there is nothing to interpret.  It is what it is, and thus it was a complete break with the past where meaning may lie somewhere inside the object waiting to be unlocked.  Instead, the meaning lies in the viewer’s interaction with it, the context and the strong feelings it can evoke for presence, absence, space and light.  It is argued in the PBS program that in a world filled with complexity and information and “lots and lots of stuff”, minimalist art can be a balm.  I’m not about to argue.

Flavin died in 1996 from complications arising from diabetes.  

It’s now hibernation time for me, I’ll be back around mid January.

References;

The New York Times

PBS: The Art Assignment

Art Forum

Art From The Heart - Kimsooja

In my art practice, I aim to provide the viewer with an immersive experience – not an easy thing to achieve with paintings on a wall.  Other artists employ different methodologies to achieve this end, and one of them is the remarkable Kimsooja from Korea.  She is an artist, nomad and humanist all rolled into one.

Her work is regarded as deeply insightful, intelligent and calls for a deeper consciousness in the world.  “Art for me is a way of understanding myself and the world around me especially in this era of destruction and violence.  I often feel powerless but I still believe in art, culture, spirit and truth in the world that is the oxygen in our lives.”

She has studios in New York, Paris and Seoul but is essentially a nomad.  She describes her body as her studio and she always feels at home on her travels.  A nomadic existence has been part of her life since she was born, her father worked in the military so they were constantly on the move – at one time living near the Demilitarization Zone in Korea.

She initially studied painting at art school but became dissatisfied with the flat canvas.  Sometime later she was sewing quilts with her mother when she had a breakthrough moment.  Inserting the needle into the fabric she realised how she could use the needle as a tool to break through the 2 dimensional tableau.

From 1983 onwards, Kimsooja’s art took on a more 3 dimensional structure straddling the realms of painting and sculpture. But her career really took off when she was invited to a residency at MOMA’s PS1 in 1991. It was here she produced work based around the bottari – a cloth to wrap personal effects that women would carry around with them. This was her way of finding her own identity in New York.

She puts the lives of others into her bottari works as the contents are clothes donated anonymously.  The concept being that these lives coexist.  She regards bottari as a 3 dimensional way of sewing.

In 1994 Kimsooja moved to video work culminating with her Needle Woman series where she filmed herself in 14 cities around the world.   Here she uses her body as a needle to weave various cultures together and she had to go into a deep meditative state whilst crowds of people brushed past her.

She speaks of having feelings of peace and love whilst looking at the oceans of people in front of her, which suggests to me that she was able to enter a psychedelic state.  She enjoyed a sense of affection and compassion towards these people which was very important for her entire career.  She explores the human condition and universal values that often goes beyond form and material values.

Kimsooja’s more recent work involves installations and it is here that she moved to another dimension – filling spaces with the sounds of her breathing.  In 2006 she installed “To Breathe – The Mirror Woman” at the Crystal Palace in Madrid.  She wrapped the entire exterior of the building in diffraction film and covered the floor with mirrors.  With this work, Kimsooja has moved from the physical to the transcendental.  She saw the palace as a perfect installation, an architectural bottari and decided it didn’t need anything in it.

Her work can encourage moments of self reflection, a Zen like experience that gives her work a universal appeal. 

To Breathe, The Centre Pompidou-Metz 2015

While Kimsooja’s work is undeniable feminine, it would be incorrect to describe it as feminist.  Some critics argue the latter description is far too limiting in the context of her work.

One of her more recent works is an interactive piece called Archive of Mind which consists of a 19 metre table where people are encouraged to mould balls from lumps of clay.  She considers the actions of working with the clay as a form of bottari where the actions of the hands are akin to wrapping.  Whilst forming the balls, the participants hear sounds of Kimsooja gurgling and the balls rolling thus creating a meditative, even spiritual experience.

So why the title Archive Of Mind?  Kimsooja wanted the participants to allow their minds to become absent and feel the transcendent moment which is permanently frozen in the finished clay balls. 

Her art practice is seen as a strong heart felt gesture and this is what makes her an artist of international stature.  Rather than comment on individual issues plaguing the world, Kimsooja seeks a peaceful, collective understanding of what it means to be human and to share this world as one humanity.

Zone Of Nowhere, Perth Festival, 2018

“Living as an artist is like breathing for me.”

Ref: Kimsooja Explores The Notion Of Being Human - Brilliant Ideas Ep. 45

The Space Man - Olafur Eliasson

These days Danish artist Olafur Eliasson is described as an arts corporation rather than an artist.  Not that this is meant to be derogatory – far from it.  But he appears to have an imagination on an industrial scale, his studio now employs 100 people and he has branched out into the fields of architecture, engineering, product design and global politics.  He is also a passionate advocate for action on climate change. 

He is consumed by the concept of space, how we interpret it and interact with it.

“What makes a space productive, makes it tolerable, challenging, exciting, including, hospitable and so on?  I aim to challenge an existing space by introducing some qualities and amplifying those qualities into the space.  It is not like starting with a blank canvas as the space is already charged with meanings and intentionalities.

“It’s important to ask to what extent do we have an impact on our world, to participate or not participate?  Does it matter that we are here in the first place?”

Beauty 1993, Nozzles attached to a punctured hose spray a fine mist into light.

“When I make something that may be a work of art, I want it to be in the world, to be sincerely, responsibly and honestly in the world….to have an impact somehow.”

Eliasson describes his studio as a laboratory where he and his collaborators experiment a lot and try out ideas.  He says the studio needs to embrace doubt that something may not be working, that it may turn into nothing. 

One of his most significant early works was the Weather Project installed in the massive turbine hall of London’s Tate Modern in 2003.

Critic Waldemar Januszczak credits Eliasson with bringing the outdoors inside.  People were turning up at the Tate with beach towels so they could lie on the floor and see themselves being reflected on the foil covered ceiling. 

“When I work with a project, I ask how is the work being constituted, who determines whether it’s real or not?   And I want to hand that determination to the spectator.  Which means I need to include the spectator into the objecthood.  How do people allow themselves to get involved with their surroundings?”

New York City Waterfalls, 2008

He allows a project to evolve over time, he does not have a fixed picture of how a project would appear in its final form from the outset. 

“I do not claim sole authorship of the project, I rely on the audience, the context, the quality of the situation to claim authorship.  If I set out a Utopian vision and tell people what to expect I would limiting, I would be normative and I would be commodifying the project.

“I often talk about making a machine that produces a phenomena and it’s the relationship people develop with that phenomena that is interesting to me.  I like to show people how this machine works so they can coproduce the work with me.” 

By doing this, Eliasson hopes to make a world that is more open, more negotiable and inclusive rather than exclusive.  He aims to make art that is inclusive rather than exclusive.

Your Chance Encounter, 2009, a mist filled room with different coloured lights in different areas

“My interest goes in the way of participating in a dialogue and I see my work as a response to something I see in the world and I use my studio to amplify my response.

“The unique quality of the language that art speaks is that it doesn’t take the world for granted, it looks at the world as if the world is a model, that it’s a constructed world and there is not an objective truth out there. If you successfully start a dialogue with that world then you can change that reality, make it negotiable.”

Eliasson also appears to be a humanitarian.

“A work of art can embrace different people having different experiences at the same time.  Where else in society does this happen?  And where in society is this embraced as a good thing?  If you are different you are typically, in the world I live in, not welcome. Art can show that this is wrong and investigate this in a productive way and constitute a community that is based on differences – being part of a group and yet being able to work as an individual.”

Your Rainbow Panorama, 2011, ARoS Museum of Art, Denmark

“It’s about the balance between form and content which allows you to solve complex questions.  It‘s possible to get caught up with form and forget about content ie. what is this about, where does it go, how do people engage with it and why?  So the form needs to be secondary to the content.  It is necessary to go out and research (workshop) the content and then return to the studio.”

There is a retrospective of Eliasson’s work on show at Tate Modern until January 5, 2020. 

References; ‘Space Is Progress’,  JJ Films, 2009

Waldemar.TV – Eliasson In Real Life, Tate Modern

The Mirror Woman

A remarkable site specific installation by Korean artist Kimsooja titled "To Breathe - The Mirror Woman" could be found at the Crystal Palace in Madrid in 2006.  The palace was built in the 1880's to house a collection of flora and fauna from the Philippines, but the artist transformed it into a multi-sensory light and sound experience.

A special translucent diffraction film was used to cover the windows to create an array of naturally occurring rainbows, which were reflected by a mirrored surface covering the entire floor area.

An audio recording of the artist breathing was played throughout the space to create what must have been a memorable experience.

Melbourne's Lost Biennale

When an art exhibition sticks in one's mind after 17 years, it tells you something.  The 1999 Melbourne International Biennale was an initiative of the Melbourne City Council, The Ian Potter Centre and Arts Victoria and the exhibition "Signs Of Life" was staged over several floors of a rundown former Telecom building in Russell Street.  It was a venue which according to reviewer Helen Stuckey came with no institutional baggage and was totally innocuous.

Shadow Of Falling Stars - Ugo Rondinone

Travelling from floor to floor was a journey of exploration and discovery and each level varied dramatically in character and light.  The most successful works were able to adapt the environment to their particular needs - there was video, installation, sound, sculpture etc.  For me, the most memorable work was "Shadow Of Falling Stars", by Ugo Rondinone.  In each corner of the room, video monitors were mounted high up (like surveillance equipment), 2 showing a figure walking, the other 2 showing a young girl dancing in slow motion.  Opposite the entrance was a wall of roughly finished timber painted dark green and in the centre a pink window overlooking the city.  Add to this the soundtrack of the artist repeating a languid dirge and it made for a very disturbing atmosphere.  I was going through a relationship breakdown at the time and he tapped into my emotions very succinctly.  

On another level, the entire floor was covered in a field of clover by Nickolaj Recke, and then there was Mariele Neudecker's aquarium sculptures - dark and mysterious.

Sadly, the building was earmarked for renovation into apartments immediately after the exhibition, thus denying Melbourne of an ongoing venue for cutting edge art from here and overseas.