These strange images fill the space entirely and evenly across all surfaces in the same disorienting way that a disco ball’s dancing light causes the whole room to spin. AWARE’s fragmented projection suggests a constellation of suspended memory, ultimately disrupting the gallery’s own physical structure.
The user of these strange shapes and shelters becomes aware of a multiplicity of potential functions and experiences contained within the structure that goes far beyond the depths of the image/thing’s surface. In this sense, the mutual interdependence of both architecture/object and the human body/object establish an actual intimacy by not privileging ease of use, but rather the action of use.
The most striking remnants of the area’s industrial activity are the enormous ore walls that still exist within the park, running perpendicular to the lake and looming like ancient geologic monuments. Between the walls are deep green corridors, dense ecosystems of trees, plants, and boulders, birds diving in and out of sight.
Place memory gently skews and warps the perspective allowing interpretation to permeate the lived landscapes of both Yoakum and Nickodemus. Yoakum described his work as a “spiritual unfoldment.” Much like how a map expands or contracts, memory unfolds primary experience onto the landscape in unpredictable and idiosyncratic ways.
The doodled flower and genitals aren’t seductive for their subtlety or extension, but for their presence and play around the borders of something else. Hence the initial wink of familiarity in John Schacht’s works on view at Iceberg Projects: not the slow dawning awareness of a form’s luridness but the flashed recognition of, if not this rose or this cock, certainly this type of blossom.
All of Lane’s pieces are formed through their practice with latex. Globular, dripping, and draping, the pieces function both as referents to the human form and sculptural abstractions. Lane shapes this playful indeterminacy to highlight the fragility and grotesqueness of existing with/in a body; wherein people both shape themselves and are shaped by outside forces.
The labyrinth of architecture comprising the neighborhood contained intimate alcoves of acrylic paintings on display salon style and sculptures made of natural materials like metal and wood. Many of these sculptures were meant to personify lwas, “spirits,” in the form of repurposed electronic devices and found objects from the surrounding industrial areas.
In doing so, the artist is sensitive to the natural physical properties of the stones’ veins, textures, and densities. This affects not only the way Hofmann’s stones are shaped toward depiction, using the veins or sediments to persuade the image, but also some sense of shadowing a stone’s life as a particular rock encountered in the field.
Still, more troublingly some of the performers played directly to the camera, seemingly valuing the photography or filmmaking over the live audience. Having “good” documentation is par for the course in work based in time and space. But, does that “good” documentation have to happen concurrently with a present audience?
Originally planned as a twelve-hour musical celebration, the artists canceled the program after the ban endangered travel for Iranian-Canadian musicians Arif Mirbaghi and Raha Javanfar, who were slated to perform. Instead, visitors to the space were asked to “please remain silent” and to contemplate the musicians’ unused instruments.
Using this descriptive catchall implies that gender collectively reads as a quantifier; a female abstract painter differs from an abstract painter as a girl band differs from a band. Girlband’s artists set out to question this collective label because, unexamined, this proposition is reductive and solipsistic.
The shape, evocative of an underground cave formation rendered in three dimensions, is held with such care and delicacy, reminiscent of a broken leg in traction, that it feels palpably precarious. The handles on the structure, however, introduce an idea of portability, giving the illusion that its placement within a larger historical timeline is temporary.
The radiant fuchsias and pale pinks of Drum Talking feels like some kind of carved out corporeal space, while the loosely stretched canvas acts as a skin, leaving an imprint of the physical support under the weight of You-Ni’s hand. It begins to feel as though it could be a direct impression of the body, but it is only an index so far as it is evidence of the hand over time.