Loss is Expected-the depart-mental walk through

I'm guessing that these sort of things are always awkward. L.I.E. is 99.98 percent installed, and I had been hovered over my computer, trying to upload photos and send out a Facebook invite during the 11th hour, with the department, some who know my work, some who don't, walking through. I didn't get a whole lot of feedback, aside from Doug Stapleton and Jenny Magnus, who took the time to explore the piece, for which I am incredibly grateful. Other than that, there was a lot of nodding and smiling, which is expected. There are seven large installations in one space, all in various states of preparation, what else is anyone to do, but "walk through"? The whole show gets darker and darker as you go through. It begins with "This is a Play(by joseph riley)" with is a clean and composed piece- a literal box of a stage with very distinct and meticulous multiple backgrounds painted on window blinds that flip and change with the flick of a wrist and an idea. Landscapes and backgrounds appear and disappear in an instant, and he has written a performance that is as quick and as fragmented as the sound and actions of his shifting set. It's really fantastic. 

Then it moves on to my piece, which is brightly colored, intentionally messy, spinny, sloppy and both personal and impersonal. Prior to the walk through-I was given two unsolicited observations: The first was from a stranger who said, "Oh, hey!It's a big pinball machine!" and the next from my friend Jasmine who said, "Oh, hey!It's a crappy carnival!"

 

Next is Robert's piece, which is a mystery to us all. He has spent much time concealing his space with heavy black curtains, and I suspect the minimalist sense that he harbors well will prove to engage what I know will arrive-a space of calm and beauty. A chance to breathe. He does gorgeous and sophisticated work. My friend, Heather Khan, has always said that she wished museums had rooms in between exhibits in order to regroup, breathe and process before moving on. I think Robert channels this sentiment, and his work is in the beauty, sanctity and history involved, although I've never discussed it with him. He fights for calm, and I respect this. I'm glad that he is next to me(although I know my piece makes his fight more difficult-oops-I dig the contrast, but I'm selfish and playful-look at my work!)

It then moves on to Katie Haviland's "Familiar Strangers," which is a meticulously unsettling and gorgeous piece. I won't say too much about it, but it is beautiful and stark.

Moving along into stark absurdity and getting back to playfulness-Erin Cramer's "Funeral Procession" is a Grimm's Fairy tale personified. It is dark, wacky and full of life-sized puppets and musical instruments and amazement.

It continues into Amy Jacob's piece(how do I not know the name of it?) which builds on the stark tone with shear number of paper dresses, burned precisely and accordingly...just keeps getting darker and darker and more unsettling and sweet.

This leads to Jasmine Greer's piece, which I didn't check out today, so I can't give a real rundown of it, except for the fact that she embraces physical darkness in a fantastic way. Last I checked, the room was entirely black, draped in fabric, with small lights shining through. I can't wait to see her piece...

If anything, we're a dark crew, and this show just gets darker as you travel through. I can't wait to do so!

But, back to Loss is Expected...The piece is contingent on these physical games that have been set up with moveable pieces and veiled overt instructions. Jenny, who I always listen to as I would a director-with intensity, respect and  welcome intimidation- asked if I'd be present to return the space to it's original order, once the games had been played. This is a question for the whole piece, but specifically for the "Hat toss" and the "Ball roll." I'm sure I hemmed and hawed, but the answer is no. The absence or displacement of of these things that have been instructed to be tossed, rolled, or thrown is part of the central theme. The instructions are there, and they may be understood, but when it comes down to it, the object may not be there, and the interpretation of the instruction may be muddy. As a participant, you  expect it to be there, and when it is not, a few things can happen. Perhaps you feel cheated. Perhaps you feel disappointed. Perhaps you feel concerned. Perhaps you feel amused. Perhaps you feel bored. No matter what, something is evoked on an emotional level. That is the real point.

Really, the question is-what are you looking for? In my experience as an avid art enthusiast, a  theatre artist, a teacher, and an interdisciplinary artist, as well as someone who approaches art as I do life, things don't always work out as instructions may lead you to believe. How you assess and adapt makes you remember where and who you are. In this piece, there are clear guidelines. It really is a pinball game. You know that going in. You've seen the bumpers(I know-flippers)Her point is incredibly valid-who is going to be there to put it back together? Who will reset? That is exactly the question-who knows? This is where it becomes a little bit of a social experiment. Maybe no one does(until the night is over, and my reset list is in order with the gallery manager), maybe someone does, maybe someone else witnesses this, maybe nothing ever gets touched, lifted, thrown or rolled. All of these "maybes" send a message.

1) The sanctity of "art"-is it really so sacred? I understand that masterpieces are the works that have withstood years and centuries, and are highly protected by guards and vaults and museums and social etiquette. I've built a piece that is meant to shift at human hands and traffic. I have a real concern that the idea of "art" may mean that this work will lie under-explored and cautiously played. When I was in college, and just after, I had a boyfriend who was always disappointed that when he would come to visit me in NYC that his huge white minivan never got tagged with graffiti. He always got a ticket, but he wanted to have the credibility of having been in a notoriously urban atmosphere with a clearly huge canvas, just waiting. He only got tickets. 

2) L.I.E. is obnoxious. Intentionally so. It's also playful and designed much like a fifth grade play. There is a light innocence to it, as well as a weighted hell to it, and it bleeds into everything. The balls will roll down off of the piece, and into other areas.Objects may be propelled elsewhere. It is clear where these objects came from. The return of these objects may be a reason for someone to enter the piece, that's cool, too. It's cool if it infiltrates other pieces. That's a bit of the point. If objects are lost...well...look to the title.

3) To get to the human point, this is also a test(experiment, whatever). Who resets? who fucks things up? Who lets things lie?Who supervises? What does it matter. The fact is, if you choose something that is either full or empty, you still have made a choice. If you survey the atmosphere, you still make your assessments.

It's all part of the city and human identity. It is what it is. It's all beautiful, and flawed at every point.