Korean artist JeongMoon Choi uses surprisingly simple materials to create installations that appear to be pulled off the computer screen. Simply using thread and UV lights JeongMoon illuminates complex geometric patterns. The arranged thread patterns glow against the dark space at times resembling three dimensional plans. Her installations explore the gallery space, both literally and conceptually. Glowing angles bounce off walls and ceilings emphasizing an architectural space that typically tries to not attract notice.
The series of work from Polish artist Jan Manski is aptly titled Onania – an archaic term for masturbation. The life-sized installations focus on ideas of vanity and hedonism. Dominated by a fleshy shade of pink, Manski seems to ambiguously address a cultural obsession with pleasure while neither condemning nor condoning it. Manski contrasts materials such as fat, leather, bones and fur with surgical steel, enamel, clothing, and cosmetics. Onania manages to repulse and be aesthetically pleasing - mesmerizing like a botched medical procedure.
Artist Angie Hiesl‘s site specific pieces blend installation and performance. Her X-Times People Chair series elevates senior citizens to traffic-stopping heights. Hiesl installs a steel chair on the fascades of buildings about ten to twenty feet off the ground. Performers typically between sixty and seventy years old perch themselves on the chair. The perching senior citizens perform mundane daily routines such as reading the paper or folding clothes for the duration of the perfomance.
It is difficult to define the Lightwork series of Conrad Shawcross – sculpture, installation, perhaps even performance. His pieces are typically large machines that move and spin bright lights in a manner that is somehow at once mechanistic and human. The sculptures are built of elaborate machinery similar in appearance to factory robots. However, in a way Shawcross juxtaposes the utilitarian appearance of his machines with their art-making purpose.
He says, “I really like them as unfinished objects. The minute they turn, you are left in a much easier position of ‘ok, that’s about a spinning light bulb’. But before they operate, you have to be more aggressively thoughtful to try and work out what they are for.” (via)
Calling the work of Dutch artist Berndnaut Smilde ‘enigmatic’ is nearly an understatement. He creates real clouds indoors which only last for a moment – just long enough to be photographed. Carefully controlling a space’s humidity and temperature coupled with a quick burst from a fog machine, Smilde is able to make a cloud materialize which soon disappears. The work, not quite a sculpture or installation, is only made more impressive by its temporality. Smilde, in this way, is able to emphasize the potential of otherwise forgettable spaces.
Noa P. Kaplan is a visual artist living in Los Angeles, California. Last year I had the pleasure of walking through Kaplan’s giant dust bunny, installed at UCLA. It was a weird feeling, feeling both small and large at the same time… Her larger body of artwork examines the impact of technology on production processes, material structure, and scale. This piece in particular, however, is specifically interested in providing a new scale to something small, a dust bunny, in order to design new associations and emotional connections with the clump of dust that we would otherwise sweep under the rug in disgust. The artist explains the context of this piece so beautifully: “Though mundane, a dust bunny bears unexpected symmetry to the most complex and baffling systems, such as the accretion of cosmic matter or the organization of memories in the brain.”
The work of Italian artist Alberto Tadiello peeks into the vagaries of technology, nature, and their relationships. For example, the first five photos of this post depict the installation EPROM (an acronym for Erasable Programmable Read Only Memory). The installation mounted on the wall consists of music boxes connected to small electric motors, which are in turn connected to transformers. While the tinny notes of the music boxes may conjure memories of childhood at first, the motors and music boxes are soon spinning faster than the mechanisms can withstand. Eventually the motors wear out reducing the ‘music’ to a hardly noticeable noise. Of this event, the gallery statement says:
“Once the pawls wear out the noise slowly becomes less noticeable and even indistinguishable. The high-speed movement is associated with a sort of cathartic event, which relieves the music box interface from bearing nostalgic feelings.” [via]
The work of Alejandro Almanza Pereda is colored with a dark sort of humor. While his installations are typically built of ordinary objects and materials, they are arranged with a near morbid wit. In a way, Pereda’s work gives boringly safe everyday situations a sense of impending danger. For example the last piece featured in this post is composed of what appears to be a section of the side of the ubiquitous high-rise building. They’re the heavy price tagged windows of a luxury loft sans room or even people to enjoy the view. The piece is aptly titled No Room With a View.