So today marked the beginning of our general studies course –
Installation Art: From Modernity to Post-Modernity, it was called. I came to college, fully equipped with laptop and stationary, and fully expecting a bunch of theory to
be unloaded upon my anticipating self. Which was actually a bit exciting – for
me, to be reluctantly honest – I haven’t had a theory course in a long time, and I thought it would be a bit refreshing ('thought' being the operative word).
But see, what I got ended up being so different from what I had expected. As we entered and dumped our stuff onto the colorful tables situated in front of us, our facilitator, he stood by the board and greeted us with a very bewildering question to kick off the day –
‘What is art?’ he asked us as he leaned against the brick wall of the classroom, a very amused smile coloring his bespectacled face.
Now, naturally, I was a bit bamboozled. How can one define
‘art’? Is it even possible to pin it down to a few words? A limited definition?
A strict code?
It’s art. It’s abstract, limitless, nothing and everything.
And so, as people poured out their preferred adjectives to
describe what they thought ‘art’ was, there was one thing that stood out for me
– art, as an entity, was as flexible in its ‘definition’ as the changing moods
of the sea. Which was exactly what he (our facilitator) wanted us to see.
It was an interesting beginning.
Now the course was all about ‘installation art’, as we can very intellectually infer from the title of the course we'd signed up for (aren't we smart little cookies). What is
‘installation art’, every one asks. And how is it so different from the ‘normal’,
‘contemporary’ art that we usually come across?
A little research task for the lot of us – “Go find out what
installation art is,” he says. “And look for one installation that sticks out
for you. Tell me why it does.”
Fifteen minutes to pin it down. Fifteen minutes to turn to
Wikipedia and look up the dictionary definition of installation art.
And so it says - Installation
art describes an artistic genre of three-dimensional works that are
often site-specific and designed to transform the perception of a space.
‘Transform the
perception of a space’, it says.
Isn’t that
interesting?
See, now as soon as I read this collection of phrases, one
particular image popped into my head – a fiber art installation created by a
woman named Emily Ann Nachison.
She used netting, camouflage netting, spray paint, crystals,
strings, and god knows how many other things to create this beautiful display.
What strikes me most of all is the absolute expansiveness of the entire thing,
not to mention the ethereal atmosphere that accompanies it. It’s like a valley
covered in pearly white snow. A heavenly paradise that offers nothing but serenity, peace and
blissful contentment.
I could immerse myself within the white and lose track of
reality, as I know it. Which is what I presume an installation is supposed
to do.
Transform the perception of a space, as mentioned up above.
It’s one of my absolute favorites.
So there I am, looking at the choices others had made for the installations that stuck out for them the most, when there's an unexpected turn of events.
'Clean up your tables,' he says. 'They should be empty.'
We comply.
'Push your chairs back,' he elaborates further. 'And then get up on the tables.'
Wait, what? I think.
'Go on,' he urges.
My lips quirk to form a strange, confused smile as I, along with the rest of the class, climb onto the tables we were previously supporting our elbows upon.
'Now walk, in a circle, in synchronization, on the tables,' he says.
I fear that a collapse is inevitable with our combined weight, but we comply.
And so he leads us on to a strange little dance, right up on those tables, asking us to freeze, to move, to jump on and off, to jumble up, to move in random directions. We are puppets on a stage, and he's the one pulling the strings. We do whatever he wants us to do.
And then, as we settle down onto the floor in front of him, he asks us why we did what we did.
We realize that with our movements (and with him controlling our movements, also), we've basically turned the entire room into an interactive installation - one that is of his creation. We transformed the perception of the classroom, which was previously a very inflexible space.
We were the material he transformed into a medium of communication - a communication of thought and ideation.
What an interesting way to look at things.
What an interesting way to explain things.
We are almost in awe.
He sends us back to our chairs. And as we settle down with a few awkward shuffles, he sets out another task. Form into groups of three, he says. Look for a space within the
building, and turn it into an installation without
altering anything at all. Alter your perception of the space, he tells us. Use your
imagination.
And so I, along with Nehal Vyas and Mohammed Chiba, set out
to find a space we could flip around, and happen across a barely functional
circuit box a little ways outside of class. Inspiration struck us.
And we just stood thinking, it could be so much more.
This was how it turned out –
***
#607716
This mundane looking
setup is a tool we’d like to use to promote the idea of seeing ‘beyond the
obvious’, so to say. With this commonplace framework, we wish for the audience
to imagine something completely different from its external appearance.
This everyday circuit
box, for us, is a key to two different eras – a means for time travel. A door
to two different dimensions, per say.
We’ve made a play on its
catalogue number – 607716 in this case, to take us on a journey to two
different times – one, in the past, to the 6th of July, 716 AD, and
one, in the future, to the 6th of the ‘Zero’ month (a hypothetical
month that was/will be, most definitely), in the year 7716 AD.
The loose wire holder
is, in essence, the knob that is to be used in order to open the portal. Once
it is turned three times in the clockwise direction and then once in the
anti-clockwise, the metal plate in the center shifts to the side to reveal an
opening with a blend of historical/futuristic ‘events’, per say, that are coded
in binary. Where it takes you depends on its mood, for it is mildly sentient
(as in with life).
At least, that is our
theory.
The installation
serves to offer a method for extending perspective, imagination and
visualization. We do not wish to limit ourselves to only one route of ideation.
How, according to you,
does this space qualify as an art installation?
Think about it.
***
And that is what we took it to be.
It was a really interesting exercise – nothing I’ve ever done
before. It was refreshing to simply take a space and make meaning out of it
without altering even a single thing. I do suppose we went a bit astray,
however, because as Narendra pointed out, our concept really was more of a play on events than a play on space, but it was fun anyway.
So the first day was both entertaining and educational, but
not in a way I would have expected. More so than general studies, it was actually
a means for introspection, visualization and ideation. It was refreshing, unanticipated
and not disenchanting in any way whatsoever.
I learned so much today, and was only the first few hours.
I can’t help but look forward to what is to come, in the
future.
