In contrast to some of the ubiquitous and overwhelmingly large-scale exhibitions of late, and the exigent nature of their ideologically-charged agendas, the 6th Biennale at Site Santa Fe running from July 9 through January, 2007, is innovative in light of its almost intimate scale, character and all-embracing scope of its curatorial aspiration. Curator Klaus Ottmann, in articulating the premise for this event, verbalizes aesthetic concepts that encompass such discursive elements as authenticity, creativity, spirituality and beauty. |
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Let the Art Speak For Itself – Yulia Tikhonova

In contrast to some of the ubiquitous and overwhelmingly large-scale exhibitions of late, and the exigent nature of their ideologically-charged agendas, the 6th Biennale at Site Santa Fe running from July 9 through January, 2007, is innovative in light of its almost intimate scale, character and all-embracing scope of its curatorial aspiration.
Curator Klaus Ottmann, in articulating the premise for this event, verbalizes aesthetic concepts that encompass such discursive elements as authenticity, creativity, spirituality and beauty. He is innovative in describing his position as being an aesthete rather than an art activist, while illuminating his viewpoint with the help of the intense existential vernacular of Kierkergaard and Heidegger.
Ottmann’s expansive statement regarding the exhibition was late in being encapsulated in its title, “Still Points of the Turning World….” It was in fact borrowed from TS Elliot’s poem “Burnt Norton.” This quotation, in the curator’s opinion, sweepingly sums up the nature of the art works by the 13 participating artists. This was in distinct contrast to last biennale, where Site attempted to accommodate as many as 54 artists.
The figure 13 may indeed connote some kind of mystical interpretation, which could be justified by the spiritual fibers of Santa Fe but, in reality, the museum space itself could handle no more than 12 participants. That was until the Polish artist Miroslaw Balka suggested using the loading dock of the building for the display of his video, titled Bottom.
Indeed, the pit of the dock seemed to be the perfect space for filling with sand onto which Balka could project his video featuring what appears to be a grid of plumbing pipes. The industrial quality of the dock enhanced the haunting nature of the artist’s steps, which metaphorically echo the collective memories of the Holocaust and, in particular, the massacre of Polish Jews. The viewer mostly has to lean forward to be able to experience the video, and the restriction of its full view, by a protective metal bar, enhances the disturbing effect.
In addition to this intrepid display, the major gallery space has also mostly been reconfigured into separate installation areas for each artwork in order to emphasize its meditative quality and to induce a nearly tête-à-tête experience of contemplation. Similarly, the sound installation by the experimental musical collective from Norway, Thorns, LTD, titled O.O., which is composed of “found” sounds, such as recordings of the micro noises of objects, nature and instruments, is effectively insulated from sound spill by the built-in walls. Interestingly, this piece of sample sounds will be played non-stop through the 185-day duration of the biennale.
In addition, the expansive sound and light installation by the German artist Carsten Nicolai titled Spray, which is based on a system of codes that govern both sound and light, occupies a darkened space. Here, the viewer is enticed to sit or lie down in order to contemplate a mesmerizing black and white patterned screen while listening to an all-encompassing sound that claims to differentiate light electronically.
Upon leaving this space, while the viewer is still struggling to ease out of the visual after-effect of the flickering lights of Nicolai’s installation, one must also follow a pre-determined secession of dark and light spaces that Ottmann suggests as a path for viewing the exhibition. By suggesting this approach, the curator emphasizes his premise: “a series of one-person exhibitions rather than a group show, and by eliminating the curatorial theme, thus making it about the art and the artists rather than the curator. ”
However, the partitioning of the space also stops preemptive viewer excitement by blocking out glimpses of unexpected vistas and revealing adjacent art works, which Site would otherwise offer through its open plan design.
A feeling of perplexity greets the visitor upon first entering the Site space whereupon he or she encounters the sculptural labyrinth created by the Spanish artist Cristina Iglesias, titled, Celesias II. This artist draws the viewer into yet another space—the shadows of a spectral web—one that, while being illuminated by skylights, is comprised of a patterned filigree of clay screens.
In addition, the shadows cast from the walls configure patterns that are like an intricate moiré network. They were intentionally chosen to articulate the visual resonance of the installation. In this way, the sculpture is able literally to speak for itself, provided one is able to decipher the shadowy meaning amidst the inexplicable reflections. The powerful impact of Iglesias’s installation, and the tactile qualities of clay, resembles the enigma of an archaic cenotaph that guards its secret purpose. Iglesias’s references are very much in accord with the stark sculptural installations by Wolfgang Laib, who also draws his inspiration from Eastern symbolism. By using organic materials such as beeswax and Burmese lacquer, the artist creates forms of universal significance such as a ziggurat and a stairway. The pronounced closeness and self-referential nature of this three piece, minimal installation yields yet again to Ottmann’s verbalization of art as being “a sensual experience.” In this way, the smooth and almost human epidermal surface of the wax lures one to touch in order to experience this objet-d’art in its organic immediacy. Thus, touch brings metaphorical coherence to the geologies of nature and the depth of spirituality that Laib heralds.
Another fully engaging installation is Magic by the Kenyan multimedia artist Wangechi Mutu. The artist has darkened her space in order to convey the sense of dislocation that, in her words, has been a personal concern since she moved from her home country to America. Although a major element in this work is a large video projection on the wall that conjures up thoughts of a tropical location, the film was in fact shot in Connecticut. It features a woman who butchers a chicken in a somewhat violent manner while a seemingly ambivalent man looks on, chain-smoking. Both characters are perplexing in their actions and the sensation of emotional and geographical displacement is heavily present.
Another part of this installation titled Clepsydra comprises an assemblage of bottles and light bulbs that have been hung upside-down in such a way that they resemble peculiarly shaped tropical fruits. The accompanying wall text quotes fragments from a poignant letter that has been written to a far-away mother, expressing a daughter’s love, which knows no distances. Also in the same text, there is a reference to Dr. David Livingstone’s death in Africa in 1873. By referencing the journeys of colonial times and their accompanying feelings of longing, the artist presents her intention to take the viewer into a world that is unknown yet full of memories and insinuations that are a palimpsest. Indeed, it could be said that memory hinges on those “still points” that will resist the world’s turning tempo.
Another journey into the indefinite is that of the creative quest embedded in the artistic path that is presented by a video from video artist Patti Chang. In this work, the artist mediates her doubts about the contradiction between constructive and destructive forces in her creative choices. The ideal state of “oneness” that is unattainable yet always desirable is something Chang also interrogates in this performance-based video. Having been commissioned specifically for this exhibition, it references the spiritual magic of the local terra firma that is embedded in longstanding creative tradition.
In a different way, but also concerned with the human condition that lingers in between childhood and adolescence, is a body of photographs titled “In and Around the Home” by Catherine Opie. By placing her adolescent subjects against brightly colored backgrounds, the artist also refers to the environment of suburbia, which threatens to ensnare in its boredom and futility. These images have the power to interrogate through their honest depictions of complex constructs of gender and sexuality.
As if to further emphasize the “true voice of art,” Ottman attempts to offer a most objective and seemingly impersonalized curatorial position by presenting male and female artists from a variety of age groups who are working in a diversity of mediums. However, as was pointed out by Bruce Ferguson, the curator of the first Site Santa Fe biennale, curating often implicates “ego-involvement…But some people do it more it forcefully, some rather seductively and poetically.”
Ottman ascribes to the sensual approach to curating, which allows the “authenticity of art” to be revealed and the unmediated reciprocity between art and viewer to be developed. This curator, a sensitive “auteur,” invisibly supervised the evolution of his Biennale, which started long before its actual mounting at Site, and will have aesthetic effects that remain long after.
It therefore seems logical to put Ottmann down as the worthy successor to the previous noted curators of this event, which have included: Bruce Ferguson, Rosa Martinez, Dave Hickey and Robert Storr. Three of these used Site as “a site” for the opportunity to re-examine their position before ultimately progressing on to curate the Venice Biennale. In light of this one, future curatorial proclivities by Ottmann will certainly follow.