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.
The team known as Lang Baumann is made up of artists Sabina Lang and Daniel Baumann. Together they create large scale installations which playfully interact with the surrounding environment. Comfort, the series presented here, fills houses, barns, apartments, and more with tubes of air. The tubes twist through doors and windows completely overtaking the space they’re stuffed in. The installation and its title recall homes, living spaces, and an the perpetual search for physical comfort.
The site specific installations of Magnus Sönning investigate space and the structures that inhabit it. In a way, his Wind Passages bring the outside indoors. The small raised corridors allow the wind (and at times rain) to flow right through a building. His work emphasizes the space that we live in. It encourages us to think about the world prior to the existence of the the structures of everyday life. Other works of Sönning take pieces of buildings – ceilings, floors, walls – out of context and puts them on display. These pieces create further opportunities to investigate structures we simply pass through each day.
Jonathan Schipper‘s work is slowly self destructing. Very slowly self destructing. In this first series of photos, To Dust, two classical sculptures hang upside down from one mechanism. The mechanism slowly grinds the sculptures together. A pile of fine dust gathers beneath the sculptures as they wear each other away. Over the course of several years the sculptures are expected to eventually destroy each other.
Slow self destruction unfolds in another series pictured in this post, Slow Inevitable Death of American Muscle Slow Motion Car Crash. A head on collision is almost painfully stretched out over six days. Two cars set on a track slowly advance toward each other simulating an ultra-slow car wreck. Schipper transforms destruction that was once dangerous into a harmless act – a perverse spectacle into a near boring and slow non-drama.