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Upon entering Cheim and Read through its doors on 25th street this winter, one is almost immediately struck by the unlikely scent of topsoil on the far west side of the New York City grid. This affective sensory reminder of the natural world, of some prior habitat or even of some personal origin lying beyond the grit and metal of the contemporary urban city, is present thanks to the complex installations of Greek artist Jannis Kounellis. Soil, textiles, carpentry and steel are tied together, bound up as tightly as possible in every one of the works on display, yet the brilliance of these combinations relies, above all, on the clearly defined boundaries between each. |
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A Trail Behind – Whitney May
Upon entering Cheim and Read through its doors on 25th street this winter, one is almost immediately struck by the unlikely scent of topsoil on the far west side of the New York City grid. This affective sensory reminder of the natural world, of some prior habitat or even of some personal origin lying beyond the grit and metal of the contemporary urban city, is present thanks to the complex installations of Greek artist Jannis Kounellis. Soil, textiles, carpentry and steel are tied together, bound up as tightly as possible in every one of the works on display, yet the brilliance of these combinations relies, above all, on the clearly defined boundaries between each. The materials employed remain firm in their distinctness from one another and become meaningful through highly redolent juxtaposition—through the subtle, but pristinely organized suggestion of their relationships.
The odor hanging in the air near the entrance of the gallery comes from one of Kounellis’ most impressive pieces set in the front room, confronting the viewer first-thing. Four lines of soil out of which various species of succulents (sparsely) emerge are divided and framed by tight coils—rolls of iron and colored cloth bound, doubly secure, by thin strands of metal wire and twine. Here, old clothes or rags are encompassed by iron and stacked three-high. The rolls at once appear precious, individually treated, but also very much discarded and disposed of in the context of this cacti-infested wasteland. On the wall behind this square construction of metal, dirt and old rags hangs a fully intact coat on a hook set against various beautifully treated squares of thin metal. The coat, like the wasteland atmosphere of the work as a whole, gives the impression of abandonment. Human presence could not be more absent, yet man’s discarded wastes now mix with this rejected or vacant natural habitat. In this piece then, Kounellis entwines the organic and the inorganic, but makes man, in his wastefulness, reject both, leaving them behind in his ever-restless and unsatisfied wake.
In the next and largest room of the gallery, Kounellis shoved 19 rustic wooden tables of all sizes into a corner, making a perfect square out of weather-worn puzzle pieces. While the arrangement may bring to mind a picture of an (absent) OCD housewife vacuuming up the absolute most surface area possible in one go, the white porcelain bowl at the viewing end of the enormous installation piece suggests a bit more. Soaking in the pool of tepid water inside this basin is a well-sharpened meat cleaver, the blade of which two goldfish swim around and around, in well-adjusted circles. Again, the juxtaposition of the organic and inorganic hints at man’s desertion. This horizontal landscape of tabletops, then, is another thing discarded; the objects rendered useless through their very arrangement. These man-made materials are, literally, pushed aside, and the endangered goldfish with them. Man has gone away carelessly again.
On the wall behind the tabletops hangs the most colorful work of the show. Here, dozens of pairs of old shoes point and angle themselves toward and underneath the mattress-less cot frame at the right end of the flat iron plate serving as backdrop to this unsettling aerial view of inanimate activity. The cluster of shoes is circled lightly in white chalk for emphasis, but it is perhaps the uncomfortable anthropomorphism present in this work that is the more attention grabbing. Here, one of the most recognizable symbols of the industrial technology of the 20th century, the steel I-beam, reclines on the cot, wrapped up warm in someone’s old wool jackets. Man could not be more absent nor better symbolized by such an integral element of his own creation. If he is gone now, if he has left behind so many wrinkled leather shoes and a bed where he used to sleep, at least his constructions of steel and concrete will remind of him after.
In another of the noteworthy pieces featured in this collection of Kounellis’ work, bandage-like strips of cloth caked in paint the color of dried blood encircle three bed frames. Like makeshift mattress pads, the strips of red-painted cloth both repel and act as the softest and most potentially functional items in the show. Stuffed underneath with still more wool coats, for added comfort perhaps, these beds were once of use. Now, however, caked in man’s most emblematic bodily residue, the makeshift mattresses tell only of loss.
There is no body—somehow man moved on from here too, but does he survive? His refuse, his constructions, the effects of his carelessness and even his own blood remain, but where is he? This show of Kounellis’ works renders the trail that each of us leave behind as we live and die. Ultimately, it forces us to recognize ourselves as unsettled, transient and impermanent species atop the soil.
