In Wouldn't it be nice if everything was the way it's supposed to be? I created a space and posed a question. I am interested in intimacy and personal spaces like bathrooms and bedrooms as part of that investigation. With this installation, however, I worked intuitively, not fully understanding the room as I made it. I didn't even fully understand the text on the floor as I wrote it, or the video of the ocean; I just knew they belonged there.
I set out to make a bedroom that would make me happy, and hopefully make others happy as well. I wanted to initiate interaction with the viewer through the text and objects. I wanted to work in a corridor so that the viewer is confronted with the space and can pass through it, almost like a ghost, and decide whether or not they want to stay awhile. Or even decide if they want to use the alternate hallway next time.
For me, the work is a lot about a longing for an idyllic world, a sort of world where it is normal to invite people to sleep in your room, a world where tea is always readily available, and a world where kitschy collections of woodland creatures abound. Through the video of the ocean, the houseplant, and the owl and deer figurines, I reference a sort of perversion of the natural: something is removed from it source and brought indoors in a bittersweet way: I love watching the video of the ocean or sitting near the plant, but I would rather be at the actual ocean. Inside, it becomes static.
Whether the room is an empathetic joke to someone that feels like they live at school, an oasis between classes, or a bizarre curiosity, I want the space to produce thoughts surrounding home, privacy, displacement, and this institution. I hope to make more rooms in the future where they don't belong, re-contextualizing this private space.
I have loved seeing the interaction: someone added an owl to my collection, and we are now friends. Someone else made my bed and washed all the mugs for me. Someone else (potentially) stole a mug. Someone else borrowed a book. Someone watched me sleep and someone took photos of me sleeping. Someone else left a note. Someone stored some objects in the room for safe keeping. Someone moved the plant to give it a bit more sunlight. Wouldn't it be nice if everything was the way it's supposed to be?
This is a strong art/life relational piece that references John and Yoko bed in, 1966, Amsterdam, but is actually uniquely present. It made the building tender and human, softening those of us who came across it, knowing or not knowing the person/artist.
ReplyDeleteSo much going on: the welcoming tone "Make yourself tea," your daily drawings, reference to other rituals, collection of objects and books all speak to a someone but we do not who (or I didn't because...). Then we went to wake you up and you were still sleeping and greeted us bleary eyed - very warm and intimate and - dare I say it - loving. Good work - totally surprising for me because I do not know you so well. Your works, and your photographs for the class, speak to a need for relationship and love in an immediate and firm way that is delightful and refreshing in the current climate of fear and power.
Thank you!
Adam,
ReplyDeleteI really felt drawn into this piece and wanted to spend more time inhabiting it. I am sad i did not know about it prior to our time in class. I felt that you brought the intimate parts of yourself and installed them in a manner that allowed others to get as close as they wanted. I appreciate how you constantly open yourself up to be known and experienced despite all the risks involved.