WAC: The Paradox of Stillness

 
The Paradox of Stillness is a Walker Art Center show on the subject of motion and stasis in modern art.  It's a large show, occupying about four big galleries, and contains many works that aren't exactly germane to its ostensible subject.  Most of the art is unimpressive and forgettable.  Exceptions are a huge installation involving car wash brushes, vaguely phallic in shape and about eight feet high -- the brushes have been painted in bright colors and as they rotate and whir they they create a strong, refreshing breeze in the stagnant air of the gallery.  (The object isn't really art and it's point is obscure, but it's appealing -- more of a special effect, I think, than a serious work; it's called "Gummo V".)  Back in 1974, Dennis Oppenheim manufactured three little mannequins, painted all in silver, who demonically dance around, kicking their feet and arms twitching under the power of motors on the ceiling making the tiny men jig about:  this is called "Theme for a Major Hit."  A cowled figure inflated with air from a blower also dances maniacally -- this is a variant on the sort of leaping air-powered balloon- men frequently displayed at used car lots.  It's a bit silly, but the creature has a strangely sinister aplomb (this is called "Pillowsophy (after Trinity)"  In a big dimly lit room, a bunch of primitive tables are hanging from the ceiling about twenty feet above the floor.  Each table is suspended by a cord that is embedded in big candle.  When the candle burns through the cord, the table falls from the air and explodes on the floor -- three of the tables had already fallen and lay shattered on the tiles.  (Of course, the gallery-goers are prohibited from entering the space under the dangling tables.)  A very nice gallery guard (from Lithuania) told us that no one has seen any table crash to the ground -- these events have occurred when the gallery was closed after-hours.  (This is prosaically called Installation mit Tischen" -- that is, "Installation with Tables.")  There are a number of pedestals and empty platforms in the exhibition staffed periodically by dancers who apparently cavort on top of them.  When I toured the exhibition all of the dancers were off-duty except for two plump women with mohawks wearing tee-shirts and sweat-pants garishly painted with big pink nipples and pubic hair.  The women sat in front of black and white image of Karl Marx with lots of women swirling around the bust of the great man.  The two women in their nude suits sat on pillows and seemed to be talking about their plans for going out on the town in a few hours after their gig at the WAC was complete.

Another work on display is called "Deep Blues".  This is not part of the The Paradox of Stillness exhibition.  The installation is by Rayyanne Tabet and is very effective.  Again the work consists of suspended objects, in this case the frames of chairs as designed by Charles Eames hanging in a gallery suffused in a deep blue glow.  The blue gradually progresses through a kind of metallic grey, then, to a chalky pale light that darkens to twilight blue and, then, a very dense tremulous blue radiance again.  There are ten rows of eleven chairs each, only six of  the chairs are complete -- that is, possess their seat-backs; the others are just skeletal metal frames hanging overhead.  The chairs dangle down in a way to suggest that they have been arranged as if to support an aerial audience focused on the back wall of the gallery -- the chair frames, in fact, are staggered, arranged in tiers.  The remarkable thing about this installation is that it looks completely different depending upon the vantage from which you observe it.  If you stand behind the chairs, they seem to be suffused with the light, blurry, and even losing their form in the blue or grey or white glow.  From the front of the installation, looking up at the chairs which tilt down toward you, the thing looks much more utilitarian and abstract -- the mystical quality that informs installation caused by the blue cast on the wall vanishes when you see the thing from the side or front.  There's a sort of overkill about the installation.  The artist has recorded a lengthy essay about how the chairs were designed by Eames and this plays while you look at the thing.  (Eames made the chairs, which are now familiar and ubiquitous, specifically for Eero Saarinen's "big blue" -- that is the modernist IBM facility located in Rochester, Minnesota.  The installation also has something to do with computer programming (because it's about IBM) and a song composed by Prince.  I didn't think any of this additional footnoting was really necessary.  The installation has tremendous presence and is well worth traveling to see.  (The artist has also adapted the blue used by IBM in its advertising and the color of the steel and glass facade at Rochester as the tint of the windows in the space outside of the gallery.)

Julie Mehretu's "Landscape Allegories" on display from the permanent collection are small, unassuming, and brilliant small-scale apocalypses of agitated calligraphy.  They are wholly beautiful.  There's a fine painting by Alice Neel, a portrait of a woman named Charlotte Willard that is also very imposing:  the old woman fixes the viewer with a steely gaze while sitting on red chair that is like a throne.  

I attended these exhibitions on the 17th of July with the GLBTQ+ Pride festival ongoing in Loring Park, across Hennepin Avenue.  Of course, the symbol for this community is a rainbow and there were many people who were very colorful in all respects touring the galleries when I was there.  The underground parking lot was crammed full -- I think I got the last space and, when I pulled out, there were several cars waiting to claim my area.  I abhor crowds and, if I had remembered about the Pride Festival going on 100 yards from the WAC, I would not have driven to Minneapolis to see these shows.