The Artistic Experiments of Patricia Piccinini
Megan J. Doll
The propelling force behind the works of Patricia Piccinini is that of pathos:
mutant creatures, disembodied lumps of flesh and warped machinery are among the
more frequent motifs of her sculptures, photographs, film clips and paintings.
A prominent Australian artist with an evident ambivalence towards medical science,
Piccinini deploys the mutation of traditional forms to stir and engage viewers.
This effect is heightened by the verisimilitude with which these images are rendered;
aided by specialists, Piccinini transforms silicone, acrylic and leather into
something animate. The skin of her sculptural creatures is treated with great
attention to tone, wrinkles, folds and blemishes. The hair she uses is real.
The visibility of veins and moisture of the orifices suggest that these are living,
functioning organisms. Piccinini’s photographs further enforce this bizarre
realism by placing her warped sculptures in a “normal” context, co-existing
with humans in mundane settings.
The questions that Piccinini’s art poses are truly contemporary, though
her formal strategies have historical roots that stretch as far back as the human
animal mutations found in the work of Bosch. She challenges the viewer’s
conception of what is normal and obligates one to consider the grotesque. What
do we deem grotesque today and for what reasons? What does this imply about us?
Embodying a time of life at which uniformity is coveted but prejudices have not
yet crystallized, children are often portrayed interacting insouciantly with
Piccinini’s mutants. In her photograph Social Studies, for instance, Piccinini
poses a “Siren Mole,” a creature of her own invention, in an outdoor
parking lot, surrounded by real-life boys. The young boys observe the creature
with an enthusiasm and curiosity that is untempered by disgust. The innate acceptance
of these children forces one to contemplate the apparent arbitrariness and artificiality
of our value allocation. Piccinini emphasizes the extent to which repulsion is
the product of social conditioning.
Piccinini also references ethical dilemmas introduced by the likes of such scientific
advancements as stem cell research, cloning and genetic manipulation. Her hybrid
animal-human creatures unveil a disturbing facet of modern science, raising questions
as to the morality of genetic meddling. While human hybrids have long existed
in mythology –in the forms of sphinxes, mermaids, centaurs and the like—they
have only recently become plausible. Piccinini rejects the romanticism of previous
mythological composites and confronts the viewer with a less glamorous reality.
The traits of a human and a meerkat coalesce in her Leather Landscape, producing
a delicate, homely hybrid. Piccinini makes man’s attempt at playing God
appear more pathetic than triumphant. The sight of human traits superimposed
upon an animal creates a sense of revolt that borders upon degradation, serving
as a further attack upon human vanity. In another ethically charged work, Still
Life with Stem Cells, Piccinini depicts a young girl seated among large, fleshy
globules. She smiles complacently, her gaze abstractedly fixed upon a stem cell
situated in front of her. Her left hand rests upon a mound at her knee as she
cradles yet another cell in her right arm, seemingly recognizing it as a fellow
sentient being. The image is simultaneously touching and nauseating. These two
works pose similar questions: What is the value of a human life? What is the
value of an animal life? To what extent is it acceptable to exploit, merge and
manipulate the two? Her works refrain from passing judgement and strive for objectivity,
though the overtones of pathos present in her forms indicate her sympathies.
The sense of malaise that Piccinini’s works inspire is countered by the
humanity with which she treats her subjects, imbued with a tenderness that saves
them from utter monstrosity. Far from being unkind or mocking representations,
Piccinini’s mutants are approached with warmth and affection: "I see my
works as my children," Piccinini asserts, "and I want what is best
for them." Her images evoke a range of emotions: fragility, pensiveness,
melancholy and compassion. The initial shock of Piccinini’s forms gives
way to the contemplation of an art that is both insightful and saturated with
social commentary.
