I’ve noticed
myself speaking very excitedly about the Turrell retrospective at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art—much
more excited than what I felt while viewing the show.
Especially
in Turrell’s immersion artworks: to be
conscious and aware in such an unusual environment is disturbing (pleasantly),
disorienting (I can imagine walking into a wall without realizing it were
there), and other-worldly.
Maybe
“other-worldly” is the right term. In a work
like “Breathing Light” (2013) you are
surrounded by colored light and exist in a physical space which doesn’t allow
for any other experience… sound isn’t a part of the installation, touch isn’t
relevant…taste and smell, forget about it.
"Breathing Light"
But there
you are in this colored space…you’re not dreaming.
This is a real place, but unlike anything you’ve ever experienced
before. Sense deprivation is a field of
study for Turrell, and it is typically in a laboratorial, if not negative
context (solitary confinement); but this is so extravagant and rich. Indulging the sense of sight so thoroughly
and without detail brings into play
the mechanics of vision—the way the eye scans and moves to gather information—and
what about afterimages?
"Breathing Light", view from waiting area
By the time
you emerge from the retrospective you feel like the scales have been removed
from your eyes (Acts 9:17-18) .
Having been under the exclusive influence of light and color for one to
two hours, I wonder what I’ve been involved with, really. The spiritual references to light speak of
understanding, clarity and glory.
"Skyscape"
The
physicality of light, which I’ve never considered or encountered before now, is
wavelengths or vibrations. Breaking the
human experience down to one element (light) and continuously exposing viewers
to that singular experience renders an increasingly physical effect/impact on
the viewer.
“What is happening to me?” is a question that
occurs during this experience. Perhaps nothing
or nothing that isn’t quickly restored upon leaving the museum and returning to
daylight and the bustle of Wilshire Blvd.
Darn it.
On our flight
back east I began reflecting on all of this.
Detail is eye pleasing—the eye hungers for it. My window view from the airplane confirmed
it: I spent a lot more time looking down
than up—you see the sky, you get it—but the landscape below was changing
constantly and filled with detail and texture…fascinating.
I
got excited, realizing that Turrell’s work is not eye pleasing. It forces
us to look at terrifically little; as such it goes against the nature of the eye.
etchings
The three dimensional references of the early
work (the gorgeous etchings, as well as the light projections like
“Juke”) are done away with in the shallow space installation, “Raemar Pink
White”, as well as in the immersion installations, like "Breathing Light."
"Raemar Pink White" (shallow space installation)
In the
latest works the edges, seams and planes of the viewing space are removed, giving our eyes even less
information. There are fewer and fewer
references to our previous experiences, our world.
"Breathing Light"
I left the
museum feeling like a spiritual being:
sensitive, reduced by stages through each progressive work. I felt as if I’d experienced the creation,
through man-made spaces, ordered experiences and sensory deprivation/indulgence. Turrell reduces this world and the vastness
of creation to a focused experience of the first element, light. His
stated interest is in creating experiences rather than “art”....
Job well done,
sir, and thank you for the memories.
Wow!
