Notes and my personal opinions on the Biennial 2010
April 28, 2010Last week Chris and I walked through the Whitney Biennial on the third day we were in New York. The show emanates an attempt at capturing conceptualism of the 21st century, focused particularly on artist’s ontological processes. One piece in particular that flaunted this was the piece by Ellen Gallagher and Edger Cleijne which had printed text around the outside of the structure playfully illustrating various conditions of logical prowess. I was immediately attracted to the printed texts and diagrams because of my own attraction to the absolute. Yet, after spending time exploring the panels (which were in fact ambiguous references to the subjects of space travel, Black Herman and Sun Ra), I ventured inside and saw zero correlation with the outside panels. Unfortunately, the subject matter from which the installation transpired did not seem to matter in the overarching sensibility of the installation. Rather, it seemed an extensive collaboration in producing various ambivalent, composite references to events past.
A very literal piece that exemplified ideas of ontology was the piece by Alex Hubbard titled “Annotated Plan for an Evacuation” in which he continuously changes the image of the car for the view of the camera which is installed to face and record the side of the vehicle. The nonsensical purposefulness in his actions reads as an important mission. His actions are quick, inattentive and have the feeling of desperation rather than the methodological practice that defines so much of the rest of the exhibition. Yet the way he nullifies a previous action by instigating a new one interestingly illustrates a sudo-ontology that mocks the thoughtfulness of rest of the biennial. The piece seems to exemplify the desperation of the contemporary art climate with respect to the lack of a critical approach to making contemporary work. It goes further by suggesting an endless set of possibilities in which the actions of the artist cease to matter and the end is the same as the beginning, simply a different shape and color.
Speaking literally of the blurring of beginning and end, I was particularly taken with Kerry Tribe’s looped 16mm film installation entitled “HM”. This was one of the most impressively impeccable biennial pieces I have seen. The beginning and end of this film cease to exist, which is satisfying for a mid-museum viewing audience. The film is approximately 18 minutes of running time, which normally I would argue is much too long for a video installation in a group exhibition of this size, but the subject matter was poignant and the longer I watched the more I became enchanted with the relevance of the installation. (I use installation here to describe the use of the two projectors looping the same film with a 20 second delay between them.) The piece is autonomous in its current state and sets itself apart from the rest of the show by using an unfamiliar subject to construct an ontological system founded in conceptualism. However, where this piece so elegantly extends beyond “One and Three Chairs” is in the experience of the viewer. The piece is humane and relevant to anyone. The story of HM is important and we feel remorse and curiosity. As humans we experience the phenomenon of the clip we just saw reappearing twenty seconds later in the second projected frame while we continue to try to watch the story divulge in the first. The artist took advantage of all opportunities spanning the eighteen minutes with occasions of synchronicity wherein each projected frame and all correlating sounds would coalesce into one moment.
The piece I have mentally awarded for most interesting recorded humanism was Sharon Hays’ “Parole”. With a lot to unpack in terms of historical references, I am somewhat hesitant to recognize the piece as purely humanist. Yet, obviously, the work considers the relevance of social unrest taking place over one-hundred years ago to what takes place today. The piece feels somewhat clumsy with regard to the installation. The looped video travels at different speeds throughout the four surrounding screens which keeps the viewer nicely aware of the confusion. Yet, the confusion seems to be a side product as it doesn’t bring the viewer further into the subject matter. Installation aside, there were moments in the film, interactions between actors and participants, that were incredibly well choreographed. An androgynous red head with soft brown eyes holds a microphone to the mouth of someone reading Anna Rüling’s 1904 speech and stares intensely at the reader’s face. As the reading goes on, the gaze becomes more intense and almost pained until we, the audience behind the camera, feel that the tension must break, there must be a release somewhere. But there is never release. The sequence goes on into the next scene and we turn away to look at a different screen, now emitting the predominant voice.
Whitney Webpage:
http://www.whitney.org/Exhibitions/2010Biennial
