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Happening Here

Net art turns the internet into a space of performance
What happens on the ‘net stays on the ‘net. Or maybe not, according to the new exhibition The Art Happens Here: Net Art’s Archival Poetics, a history of net art from 1985 to today presented by Rhizome at the New Museum in New York. The show brings net art out of the tubes of the internet and into the gallery, part of an intensive archival project curated by Michael Connor, artistic director, Rhizome, with Aria Dean, assistant curator. The show focuses on sixteen artworks selected from Net Art Anthology—Rhizome’s major online exhibition of one hundred works from throughout net art history—born-digital art that both resulted from and influenced a rapidly changing network culture that pervades the real world, beyond the browser. The show’s title comes from MTAA’s 1997 Simple Net Art Diagram, which outlines the relationship of computers, the network, the artists, and the art. Two personal computers are linked with a label, “The art happens here,” pointing to the space between the computers. An important distinction is made here—and in the show—between net art and a broader conception of digital art that focuses on techniques in a new digital media: “net” implies that the art is a performance that investigates how people relate to each other and these machines. We can see how the artworks in this exhibition were at the front edge of using the technology and investigating what the critical and societal impacts might be in the future. These were social networks before social networks, tag clouds before tag clouds, and streaming services before streaming services. Goofier early works include Alexei Shulgin’s 1998 386 DX, a “band” (a computer) that performs punk music, and StarryNight, a 1999 conceptual visualization of Rhizome’s early email listserv content, displayed with tags that connected dots connected to event “pages.” The later work in the show is more overtly political. The earlier works are more concerned with tautological questions about the medium/space of the internet: experiments in relating to one another and defining ourselves across new digital platforms, such as StarryNight and Simple Net Art Diagram. More recent works, however, signal more toward how we use these platforms—and their more advanced, codified descendants like Facebook—as places to enact politics. For example, Miao Ying’s 2007 Blind Spot is a Chinese dictionary with all the words redacted that the Chinese government would censor online. Artist-activist Morehshin Allahyari’s Material Speculation: ISIS was an attempt in 2016 to reproduce 3D-printed replicas of a set of twelve artifacts from the ancient cities of Hatra and Nineveh, destroyed the year before by ISIS. Perhaps this evolution makes sense since those early experiments—the band in 386 DX or StarryNight for the Rhizome “website”—are also a form of political speculation about social relationships in the face of new technology. The show tracks these developments in the technology and art as well as changes in society that unfold alongside the art historical narrative of the show. Or perhaps it is less about the tracking of changes in broader culture, and more of a change in how the technology is used: As it becomes more user-friendly, it becomes available to people who are not only interested in it as an experimental medium. Or, as we become more comfortable with it, we begin to turn to how it can be employed critically, rather than simply as a technological experiment. All of the works in the show resonate as a history that still echoes through our experience of online art, but also the internet in general. Are Facebook and Twitter net art projects, extended to their logical conclusion and rocket-fueled by capitalism? Like all good histories, it recasts our understanding of the present by presenting prescient works such as a recreation of Chu Lea Cheang’s para-fictional Garlic=RichAir, a 2002/3 work that speculated on a future where capitalism had collapsed, and garlic was the only currency. Artist Melanie Hoff created a video game for the 2019 show, complete with a Wi-Fi network where players could claim and trade their garlic. The work reads today like an early version of so many blockchain speculations that artists today are doing. There is also a feedback loop between digital and physical in the net art posited here, which when viewed as a space for performance becomes a sort of new commons where different people come together, but also find people like themselves. Notably, Wolfgang Staelhe’s Untitled, turned a webcam into a lens for landscape photography as it broadcast the physicality of Manhattan’s skyline in 2001, and serendipitously interfaced with current events as it captured the events of 9/11. It would be a stretch to say these online places have replaced physical terrain as the main place of community as well as conflict, but it could be said that they inherited the DNA of conceptual art and spatial practice, leaving it a final, feral Wild West for experimentation. Today, we have more controlled spaces such as Facebook that are mediated by corporate interests, but new spaces are always opening up online and underneath it in places like crypto-raves and online black markets where artists can get their rocks off. Perhaps it is no coincidence that one of the most striking works—or spaces of performance—in the show is Olia Lialina’s Give Me Time / This Page Is No More, an archive of GeoCities websites, logged at first at a moment saying, “under construction” and then at a moment when they had been closed. GeoCities was shut down by Yahoo! in 2009.  
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High Desert Test Sites

Another arts festival returns to the Southern California desert
It’s getting rather busy in California’s High Desert these days. With an ever-expanding set of art-related events, programs, and biennials taking place across the region, High Desert Test Sites (HDTS), a long-running artist showcase in the area, has announced its 2020 return. The event, titled HDTS2020 and conceived of as a “free-roving” art exposition, aims to revisit a 1972 slideshow lecture given by American land artist Robert Smithson titled Hotel Palenque via a series of new public artworks and events. The lecture, given by Smithson to his students at the University of Utah after a trip through Mexico in 1969, centers on an “eccentrically built hotel…simultaneously undergoing decay and renovation” that Smithson encountered while on his travels. Smithson considered the hotel a “de-architecturalized” space that existed both as a ruin and a site of reconstruction in keeping with the artist’s interests in fragmented landscapes and simultaneous states of being. The work, according to the Guggenheim website, was developed in tandem with a photographic series titled Yucatan Mirror Displacements (1–9) that Smithson created by photographing dispersed sites that had been augmented with the installation of 12-inch, square-shaped mirrors. For the 2020 run, HDTS has brought on guest curator Iwona Blazwick from the Whitechapel Gallery in London. The series will feature the work of eight artists, including Alice Channer, Gerald Clarke, Jr., Dineo Seshee Bopape, Erkan Özgen, Dana Sherwood, Paloma Varga Weisz, and Rachel Whiteread. Smithson will also be included in the showcase, which will focus on creating “a poetic narrative on the geometry of ruin, the entropic play of nature, and the ghosts of cultures both ancient and modern.” The artists are slated to create or place their works across the High Desert region, both in urbanized areas and within the desert landscapes. HDTS, a non-profit organization founded by artist Andrea Zittel, Los Angeles gallerist Shaun Caley Regen, and others in 2003, aims to “support immersive experiences and exchanges between artists, critical thinkers, and general audiences—challenging all to expand their definition of art to take on new areas of relevancy,” according to Zittel’s website. HDTS2020 will include a public discussion titled Desert as Situation on April 7 hosted by the Palm Springs Art Museum (PSAM) and moderated by Brooke Hodge, director of architecture and design at PSAM. The exhibition series itself runs from April 18 through May 9, 2020.
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Hey Child Stay Wild

A/D/O capsule exhibit surveys the recent "cute" design trend
While much of the furniture design industry spent the past ten years playing it safe with a restrained, minimalist approach, a new expressive style has emerged from within its margins. During this period, a vanguard of up-and-coming and established designers broke away from the norm and started reevaluating the fundamentals of form and function. They began playing around with proportion and anthropomorphic details. All of a sudden, a new slew of limited edition chairs and tables were sporting swollen legs, rounded feet, and even animalistic facial features. On view at A/D/O in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, until March 28, Neotenic Design is a capsule group exhibition that surveys this trend. Curated by A/D/O members Justin Donnelly and Monling Lee of design studio JUMBO, the showcase identifies the movement as having close affinities with childlike physical features and the vivid emotional responses that association elicits. As humans, we are inherently drawn to objects with characteristics that resemble these human traits: big eyes, round heads, chubby cheeks, and pudgy extremities. Scientists have proven that our brains respond well to these features as it brings out our instinctual need to nurture and provide affection for less self-sufficient beings. Exhibiting designers and brands—like Pierre Yovanovitch, Konstantin Grcic, Jaime Hayon, Faye Toogood, Sylvain Willenz, Chris Wolston, and Moroso, among others—have tapped into the potential of this emotive trend. There’s nuance in how this diverse group of European and American talents has employed neoteny—the retention of juvenile features—but on the whole, neotenic furniture and lighting design includes three primary traits: thickened forms; soft or rounded terminations; and the use of mono-materials. Ironically, this approach is not new and harkens back to ancient form making. What remains poignant, however, is how this recent trend asks us to reconsider the role of everyday objects; if they’re more childlike in characteristics, we might better find comfort in our domestic spaces.
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Show Off

Swiss researchers enlist the help of robots to build high-tech showhome
ETH Zürich’s high-tech showhome opened its doors this past week. The three-story DFAB HOUSE has been built on the NEST modular building platform, an Empa– and Eawag–led site of cutting-edge research and experimentation in architecture, engineering, and construction located in Dübendorf, Switzerland. The 2,150-square-foot house, a collaboration with university researchers and industry leaders, is designed to showcase robotics, 3-D printing, computational modeling, and other technologies and grapple with the interconnected issues of ecology, economy, and architecture. One of the central innovations is using robots that build onsite, rather than create prefabricated pieces in a factory. This In Situ Fabricator (IF) technology, an autonomous “context-aware mobile construction robot,” helps minimize waste and maximize safety during the construction process. To generate concrete geometries not permitted by conventional construction techniques, such as curvilinear shapes that minimize material use, researchers devised a Mesh Mould technology that was built with the aid of vision system–equipped robots. The robots fabricated a structure that acts as both formwork and structural support, a curved steel rebar mesh. The mesh is then filled with concrete, which it acts as a support to. In the DFAB HOUSE, the Mesh Mould is realized as a 39-foot wall, a main load-bearing component of the house, which is able to carry around 100 tons. Despite its complexity—it has 335 layers with over 20,000 welding points—the robot took just 125 hours to construct the mesh. https://youtu.be/ZeLEeY8yK2Y Cantilevered over the Mesh Mould is the so-called Smart Slab, a 3-D printed concrete formwork that supports the timber structure above. Many of the concrete forms in the home are built with what the researchers are calling Smart Dynamic Casting, an automated prefabrication technology. Robotic prefabrication is also used to make the Spatial Timber Assemblies that comprise the upper two levels of the home. The timber structure was devised as part of a collaboration between the university, Gramazio Kohler Research, and ERNE AG Holzbau, who used computational design to generate timber arrangements to fit into the larger structure. The timber assemblies also permit the creation of stiff structures that don’t require additional reinforcement. Applied onto the structure, the hyper-efficient facade is made of membranes of cables, translucent insulating Aerogel, and aluminum. In addition to all the new technology that went into building the DFAB HOUSE, it will also be a “smart home,” using what the researchers are calling the “digitalSTROM platform,” which includes “intelligent, multi-stage burglar protection, automated glare, and shading options, and the latest generation of networked, intelligent household appliances.” It also includes voice control for many of the home’s operations from turning on a kettle to operating blinds. Energy management is also a centerpiece of the home, with rooftop photovoltaic panels featuring a smart control system. Additionally, heat exchangers in the shower trays recover the warmth of shower water, and hot water from faucets is fed back into the boiler when it’s not in use. Not only does it conserve energy and water,  it also prevents bacterial growth in the pipes. The radical use of technology in the DFAB HOUSE is also about optimization and efficiency: the home, with all its undulating formwork and translucent geometries, has been designed to demonstrate how new technology can develop and advance its own aesthetic language to make truly pleasing, compelling spaces. It will also be put to the test. Soon academic guests will be moving in and give life in the DFAB HOUSE a shot. For those who can’t make it to Switzerland, the project will also be presented during Swissnex in San Francisco.
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In the Round

OFFICE and Pieter Vermeersch debut spheroidic furniture collection inspired by Solo House II
Belgian artist Pieter Vermeersch and architecture studio OFFICE Kersten Geers David Severen have partnered on numerous projects. Most notably, the celebrated installation artist carried out a series of gradient wall paintings on the roof of the experimental firm’s 2017 project, Solo House II. Culminating this particular collaboration is a new capsule furniture assemblage debuting at Brussels’s Maniera Gallery, now on view through May 4. Comprised of a kinetic room divider, a graphical table, a cylindrical floor lamp, and a metal-mesh sofa, the new collectible design collection draws direct inspiration from the architecture of the iconic project. Perched on an isolated plateau in Spain’s Matarraña forest, the 360-degree, circular Solo House II follows modernists principles, such as the blending of indoor and outdoor space. Between two monolithic slab profiles that function as a base and roof, thin columns and glass walls delineate porous interiors. Geometric volumes are strategically placed on both levels to hide utilities. The new furniture collection echoes the building’s spheroid aesthetic. The semi-circular and semi-transparent Perimeter Room Divider is made up of polystyrol mirror slates, clad in a beige-pink gradient. Loosely anchored on an aluminum rail, the screen can transform from a gradient spectrum into a reflective surface. This same iridescent quality is evident in the totemic Light Post floor lamp. While circles and squares form the structure of the Solo and Round tables, Vermeersch’s painterly interventions are evident in the patina of the pieces’ Bianco Neve marble tops. The organically-shaped Divan 2p sofa and Fauteuil 1.5P lounge chair evoke the rugged nature of Solo House II's arid surroundings. Within the gallery space, the combined set-design of these similar yet distinct pieces strike an impressive pose. Like the house it references, the collection's bright color tones soften its minimalistic presence. At its core, the assemblage and exhibition reveal how art, architecture, and design can transcend and hold equal footing. Beyond traditional definitions, the exploration of archetypical shape is what matter most for both Vermeersch and OFFICE. This interdisciplinary methodology is apparent in their respective practices. Whereas the former addresses space in his art, the later often approaches architecture with an object-centric point of view. For OFFICE, furniture operates on an intermediate scale, between architecture and the human being; the body and city. The showcase also features work by major Dutch architectural photography Bas Princen, OFFICE’s longtime collaborator. The 2012 Mosques in the Nile Valley series captures the interplay of fluorescent lights on monolithic buildings at night. The photos resemble Suprematist compositions—an aesthetic also evoked in the furniture collection.
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Take a Look, Read a Book

Art gallery book fair this weekend
Carriage Trade Gallery at 277 Grand Street, New York, New York, is holding a book fair this weekend that will feature books, ephemera, and zines that will undoubtedly hold gems for those interested in architecture and design. The second-floor gallery just hosted an exhibition of Denise Scott Brown and in the past has featured shows that inhabit the territory between art and architecture. The fair should have a great many books and ephemera by artists on architecture that are insightful and provocative. The participating galleries and booksellers include: Christine Burgin New Directions Common Notions INK CAP PRESS Division Leap Kai Matsumiya Office Space 2 (Sunday only) prompt: Small Editions PDF null The Home School & The Song Cave (Saturday only) Saturday & Sunday, March 2-3, 2019, 1-8 p.m.
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Staying in the Loop

Space p11 adds to Chicago's underground art and architecture scene
“The pedway is an exquisite corpse,” said Space p11 director Jonathan Solomon of the assembly of underground spaces that make up Chicago’s Pedway, the subterranean home of the new design and architecture-focused gallery. “We are looking to encourage the many institutions above to take ownership and make the pedway a space for culture.” That notion of ownership, or perceived lack thereof, along with substandard signage, uneven maintenance and concentration of urban odors causes many Chicagoans to shame the pedway. Space p11 (‘p’ for Pedway, ‘space 11’ on the leasing plan) offers an emollient in the form of a formerly anonymous space filled with work dedicated to shared agency. This commitment to shared agency brought a series of actions to the Pedway coinciding with the debut of Space p11, which Solomon directs alongside David L. Hays. The Chicago Loop Alliance partnered with artists to work in and with the Pedway through a series of pop-up experiences, dubbed Short-Cuts, activating elements like walls and abandoned phone booths with performance, drawing, and audio installations. Space p11 opened on December 3 with Phytovision by Lindsey French, an experiment in the hierarchy of perception between humans and plants. Within Space p11, French created a space full of vegetative (not creature) comforts, including a digital video slowed to plant time and shown to a plant audience. The plants watch underneath lights in their preferred colors, red and blue, which combine to flush the gallery in magenta. “People actually think it’s a weed shop,” joked Solomon. The Chicago Pedway is a five-mile network of formal and informal underground pedestrian routes connecting forty city blocks and almost fifty buildings in the Loop. Included are both public and private along with the occasional building lobby and basement. In addition to Space p11, the Pedway houses a mix of services and amenities, including salons, dry cleaners, and a number of idiosyncratic underground bars and restaurants. The Pedway began in 1951 as a tunnel connecting the State Street Subway to the Milwaukee-Dearborn Subway, joining together what are now the Red and Blue lines of the Chicago Transit Authority (CTA) system. Subsequent phases occurred in 1966, connecting the Civic Center to the Brunswick Building at 69 West Washington, through the late 1980s, and in 2005, when Millennium Station was completed. An additional extension was created in 2010 to connect the portion north of Lake Street to Aqua Tower, located at 225 North Columbus Drive. While the City of Chicago manages and cleans general areas of the Pedway, it is not responsible for privately owned sections, or those managed by the CTA. The system is not tended evenly, and signage does not remain consistent, confusing infrequent users and discouraging its use altogether for some. Those looking for consistency in the architecture of the Pedway are hard pressed to do so. While the Pedway portion of an individual building often captures what’s going on above, it doesn’t often give it sublime qualities. While there is terrazzo and marble, there are also portions of the system with as much personality as a jet bridge. Like the city above, the Pedway is not perfect. Space p11 is a project of Acute Angles, Inc., the publishers of the design journal Forty-Five. The gallery is designed by Future Firm, which has subtly improved the space by adding materiality to existing elements, along with lifting the language of retail through window framing and customary signage. “p11” is scripted in neon tube above a felted black letterboard announcing the bill of fare. A custom steel sandwich board in white and chrome auto paint is displayed outside the gallery during open hours. Through March 5, Space p11 presents Coalescence, a video installation by Rosemary Hall and Alberto Ortega that seeks to stretch our engagement with the biological and social world. Space p11 55 E. Randolph Street Pedway Level Chicago Chicago, Illinois
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Painted Furniture

Artist Leslie Wayne reveals What's Inside her inner world
A new exhibition by New York–based artist Leslie Wayne explores everyday spaces and how, through alternative modes of representation, we can see those environments in a deeper light. What’s Inside, now on view at New York City's Jack Shainman Gallery through March 30, features Wayne’s newest collection of paintings that detail basic domestic scenes like messy closets, busy bookshelves, and broken windows. These disheveled objects evoke a German Expressionist perspective, according to the artist, and unveil Wayne’s political and personal anxieties through singular depictions of an inner world that’s “not quite right,” but can be fixed. AN spoke with Wayne via email about the layered inspiration behind What’s Inside, and how color, both in architecture and in painting, can manipulate the emotions of its viewers. She also explains why studying art that highlights buildings or interior design can ultimately strengthen a person’s appreciation for the built environment. The Architect's Newspaper: Your current collection seems to build off your previous window pieces for Free Experience. Can you explain why you decided to continue that project and how this show takes those previous themes to another level? Leslie Wayne: As an abstract artist, my whole career, I’ve been wanting to bring representation into my work, but I didn’t quite know how it would manifest itself given the idiosyncratic way I use paint. Those first window paintings gave me a way to do that. Conceptually, they allowed me to express my feelings and ideas about the world around me, about the current state of affairs, as well as my own personal life, by using domestic architectural forms as a motif and as a kind of organizing principle. I realized that my abstract paintings always kept you on a threshold—of what was visible, and what was beneath and behind the surface that you could never quite completely see or understand. Architectural thresholds can operate in much the same way. By making a painting of a doorway that is just barely cracked open, or a window that is boarded up, I’m keeping you on that threshold. So actually, I’m still exploring the same thing, only in a more pictorial way.    AN: Why did you choose to focus on normal interior objects and spaces? What draws you to imagining these details in a new way? LW: I’m drawing largely on my immediate surroundings—the armoire in my bedroom, the tool chest in my husband’s studio, and my bookshelves. While the forms as furniture are universal, their contents are autobiographical, and they tell you a lot about what makes up my life. In the beginning, the idea of creating a painting of a closet was just a response to my need to move on from an earlier body of work. But then the idea of closets became more interesting to me as types of containers. Containers, not just of clothing and everyday objects, but of things we hold dear, or secrets we want to keep. And then came the paintings of drawers and bookshelves, containers that hold evidence of your life—books you’ve read, music you listen to, materials you use for work, etc. And on a purely formal level, closets, shelves, and window frames provide an interesting platform for different kinds of architectural motifs, which as a painter is great because it’s just an endless source of visual information. AN: Your work is very colorful and tactile. What do the different colors and the way those hues bring a tangible quality to your paintings say about these mundane architectural spaces you depict? LW: Color is loaded with emotive power, much the same way that music is. It can be used to express tremendously strong feelings, but, because of that, you’re in danger of being manipulative and clichéd if you go too far. It’s tricky. You want to seduce the viewer but not knock them over the head with it! Most people, when they’re thinking about architecture they’re thinking about the facade and the overall shape of a building or an architectural detail. They’re not considering the way in which a building is a container and a shelter and how the design and the color of an interior space can determine the way you feel when you go inside of it. We were in Mexico City recently and went to the house of Luis Barragán. It was very interesting to see how he used color to visually block out certain spaces and establish an overall feeling of a room. Yellow walls made you feel warm and welcomed, pink walls gave you a sensation of joy and anticipation. I loved that. For me, when I’m painting, I try to use color to do much the same thing, to convey a sensation. AN: Why is it valuable to look at architecture and interiors through the alternative lenses of painting or photography, rather than being in the space itself? LW: I would say that it’s valuable to look at architecture and interiors through the alternative lenses of painting or photography in addition to being in the space itself. There’s no substitute for having a direct experience of an architectural space. But I think we take those spaces for granted. And those of us in dense urban environments usually have our heads down (or buried in our cell phones!) when we’re walking rather than looking up and noticing what tremendously rich details are on buildings all around us. It’s valuable to reconsider what those spaces mean to us and art can take you there through the poetry of metaphor and illusion. If you’ve ever been taken by a Fra Angelico painting for example, like The Annunciation, then perhaps next time you’re inside a space that has vaulted ceilings you’ll be reminded of the painting and become aware of the ceiling’s elegance and structural integrity. Or a Dorothea Lange photograph of a young sharecropper’s log cabin can make you really feel what it must mean to live in a structure of such simplicity. Bernd and Hilla Becher spent their lives documenting industrial architecture and brought the simplest most overlooked structures, like water towers, into the realm of the sublime. We look at these things every day, but art helps us see them more deeply. See Wayne’s new show, What’s Inside, at the Jack Shainman Gallery at 513 West 20th Street, New York, New York.
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Take a Walk

Artist Eric N. Mack lets textiles take over the room at the Brooklyn Museum
Eric N. Mack’s paintings and sculptures assemble sundry found materials with traditional media to establish a complex dialogue between material and subject that questions existing definitions of form, function, and style. Following solo exhibitions at Albright-Knox in 2017 and Simon Lee Gallery in 2018, Mack was invited to transform the Brooklyn Museum’s Great Hall with a site-specific installation of his textile-based works. The result, Eric N. Mack: Lemme walk across the room, invites a discussion on the fundamental components of aesthetic vision and the mercurial relationship between visual culture and everyday life. Positioned at the intersection of art, fashion, and architecture, Mack’s work reveals an array of unexpected connections and contradictions. A discussion with the artist on the installation and his practice provides a glimpse of his creative processes and wide-ranging interests. The Architect’s Newspaper: Were you responding to specific elements of the classical architecture of the Great Hall? Eric N. Mack: Yes. The space has no corners. So, I felt like I wanted to build a painting structure that would embrace this architecture, that would be contingent on the architecture, and would change the way that people engage in the space and see the space from a given vantage point. But I chose the fabric because it was slightly transparent, so it wasn't about opaqueness, or an immediate opaque gesture, but rather a gesture that deals with transparency in the space. So I was thinking about an overlay or patterns that could flatten out as a decorative point, but through their depth create some markers of distance and closeness. AN: In a lot of your past interviews and articles on your work, the authors always talk about how you grew up in Washington, D.C., and went to the National Gallery all the time because your parents worked there, and I thought it was really fascinating that your dad built vitrines and was an interior designer for the exhibitions there. Did that have any impact on your process for creating this work? EM: I mean I think there's a lot about…generous museum experiences. And how those moments really resonated with me, not necessarily just at the Brooklyn Museum but any museum experience. I'm just thinking about an exalted moment of viewing artwork. Some of the most dynamic experiences had to do with really feeling the length of the room and really understanding the impact of my body in the space as a viewer. Almost like a dream—like a way of seeing an artwork that is almost in between installation [and painting] or something like that. So you end up really focusing on this moment of engaging points of measurement or exchange between you and the artwork. AN: Yeah, that sort of leads to my next question, which is about the title; obviously it's an imperative for you to follow along the boundaries of the white, horizontal paintings, but it also sounds like a larger, more conceptual grounding for the entire installation, and maybe a specific aspect of your practice, in a way. Would you say that's a correct reading or is there another reason you felt that title was the most appropriate? EM: When I choose a title there are probably at least four different ways that point me to that place again and again. First, I wanted there to be almost a performance prompt for the viewer. But it also has this personalized position in which people have to determine whether it's about me or it's about them. And maybe it's about both of us. [It’s also about] questioning frameworks, breaking down frameworks and creating new ones that are maybe less familiar. But I also love that [the title] almost alludes to a runway show, at the base of it. The fact that there will be a personal impetus for a runway show or catwalk show. And that's something that I'm still unpacking. AN: You also have a very strong collagistic impulse. Why do you find it necessary or how would you describe it? EM: I think this show deals in collage in many ways…I think garments are naturally related—or congruent—to collage. The intention around stitching or the suture ends up being a possibility for a felt, dynamic place of legibility. It ends up being a space that is specifically about the reconstruction of form, and maybe a critical deconstruction in a way, for the moment of reconstruction. So, there are several different points that I think speak to a linked or connected language. A lot of times I feel like the properties of a work have to be turned inside out to understand what they are presently, and what they were. So, I think to be able to show that I think is a really generous end or offering to the viewer. AN: So this question may or may not be interesting, but when I went, there was a guard standing right in the middle of the installation. Do you have any thoughts or feelings about that? I assume you didn't have too much say over their presence. EM: That's awesome, I like that. I mean, I think the guards are people that are usually supposed to be invisible. I just think that all the corners are super active, so it's not a place where they could necessarily… AN: Disrupt anything. EM: Exactly. AN: But I still felt their presence still as I was moving through. EM: Me too, actually. Yeah, that's always an equation that could easily be overlooked. Even by the viewers themselves, the fact that there are people who could potentially be experts in the work besides the artist, the security guards—if they're paying attention, [and] I'm sure they are. AN: Did you use any specific elements to the large collage on the right wall specifically for this show? Or was it kind of an assemblage you already had? Kelis stands out to me. EM: Yeah, she's amazing. AN: I mean Kelis is associated with New York, but not all of the elements are. EM: Exactly. And I love that because it's really about a time and space. I mean I talked about them before as hyperlinked material images. But there's a lot of ways to read it. There's a kind of elegy to Phoebe Philo, Céline. The title is Tartan Film Strip from 1987 Till Recent. And thinking about the space of the grid as being the space of representation first and then it also being a place for points of reconnection, dislocation, or rupture, basically. AN: Yeah, which is a very painterly concept I feel like. I know you're a painter. EM: Definitely. I move forward or away from those… AN: Traditions? EM: Yeah, or that definition, all the time. But yeah, I think the narrative of the piece generally has to do with points of comparison. Somehow below the horizon line there's a lot more vintage materials. Some of the images are from Interview magazine from 1987. AN: Which is the year you were born. EM: Exactly, yeah. There are these archetypal ways that these women were being photographed, that fashion existed within the image but it was mostly about their gaze and their contact. AN: How they were presenting themselves. EM: Exactly. I mean like Janet Jackson definitely—the album called Control is very much about one's authorship in [their] control of their career, their bodies. AN: Do you ever put in personal effects? Was there a picture of you? EM: Yeah. It’s from the first time I went to Europe and I was 14. But it also sits on the opposite end [of the collage] as Isa Genzken, an image of a sculpture she made [Slot Machine, 1999–2000]. And that was kind of a point of validation for me, with her portrait—there was definitely a way and a manner to the work that I feel like could relate to Isa's work. And I didn't want to diminish that or go away from it, but perhaps use it as content. Isa's last show [Isa Genzken: Retrospective (November 2012 – March 2014) at the Museum of Modern Art, New York] was also sponsored by Céline. AN: Oh really? I didn't know that. EM: And I always loved that because I felt like they’re adjacent. Like, there's these two adjacent industries that end up supporting one another in various ways that are highly aesthetic. Eric N. Mack: Lemme walk across the room is on view at Brooklyn Museum through July 7.
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Kumbaya My Light

Lambert & Fils launches its new Corridor gallery space in Montreal
Young Montreal lighting brand Lambert & Fils has gained recognition in the past few years with a series of blockbuster lighting collections that have broken away from the norms that have stagnated the lighting industry in the past few years. Notable designs include the airport-inspired Dorval series, developed with French studio SCMP. The boutique design house has also developed a series of lauded private and retail interiors. Building on this success, Lambert & Fils has just opened a new exhibition annex adjacent to its office and workshop. Located in the heart of Montreal, Corridor promises to become a new space for cultural exchange. The gallery will feature art and design, and will explore where these often-siloed disciplines intersect. To launch the new space, Lambert & Fils tapped Swiss designer Adrien Rovero to create a special, temporary installation. The Feu de Camp mise-en-scene draws inspiration from Rovero's short time in the boy scouts but also from Montreal’s long and cold winters. The installation incorporates various geometric forms, flashlight-inspired fixtures, and simple industrial materials—green tubes, elastics, electrical wires, and semi-spherical glass diffusers—loosely in the form of a campfire as a way to bring people together during the dreary late-winter season. The installation is arranged around a central node with 12 low-lying lamps surrounding in a circle. These elements were used sparingly to compose a playful yet technically-refined setup, and Rovero also created a wall mural that illustrates this peculiar typology in his unique assemblage-inspired aesthetic. Though this inaugural installation closes tomorrow, Corridor will open the new Studio Edition exhibition—a group show featuring work by emerging Canadian designers—in the coming months.
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Ancestral Awakening

Architect Sarah Entwistle revives her late grandfather in New York exhibition
New York City’s new Signs and Symbols art gallery will present an autobiographical exhibition by British artist and architect Sarah Entwistle. The art installation, titled It may prove a mere accident that we met, or it may prove a necessity, explores the work of Sarah's late grandfather and troubled architect, Clive Entwistle, who died in 1976 before having met her. While Clive had once worked alongside Le Corbusier and was the lead designer of the original plan for Madison Square Garden, most of his projects were never completed. The exhibition stems from Clive’s only successful work, the Transportation and Travel Pavilion for New York’s 1964 World's Fair, and it revolves around an image of a staged trade fair interior that he designed. In order to recreate the vision of her late grandfather, as well as revitalize his architectural legacy, Sarah displays rich and varied artifacts from Clive’s most ambitious designs in a way that is reminiscent of a mise-en-scéne. Relics include ceramics, elaborate architectural models, furniture prototypes, intricate drawings, a large handwoven tapestry, and photographic portraits of women accompanied by extensive correspondences with lovers. Sarah received her late grandfather’s personal belongings in 2011, after they had been unearthed from a Manhattan storage room where they sat untouched for over 30 years. Before then, she had little knowledge of his legacy, as he was absent from her life. Through the project and exhibition, Sarah attempts to simultaneously revive and reinterpret her grandfather and his work, breathing new life into his biography by integrating it with her own. Sarah noted, “each action from within the archive cleaves me further from the gravitational pull of my grandfather’s complex legacy, with its meta-narrative of failure and erasure, towards a re-emergence, where that which has been consigned to the past is re-embodied and re-imagined.” Sarah Entwistle’s exhibition will open on March 3 at Signs and Symbols gallery in Manhattan’s Lower East Side. She is also developing a new installation for the Zevaco House in Casablanca, Morocco, in collaboration with curator Salma Lahlou.
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AR FF

Sundance Film Festival highlights augmented and virtual reality
The Sundance Institute, the organizer of the annual Sundance Film Festival in Park City, Utah, and the Kimball Art Center announced an Arts & Culture District building program in the festival's host city. The Sundance HQ architect hasn't been selected yet, but the Kimball has picked BIG to design its new museum. This initiative set the stage for the festival's 2019 crop of movies focusing on architecture. In It’s Going to be Beautiful, a short documentary about the proposed U.S.-Mexico border wall directed by Luis Gutierrez Arias and John Henry Theisen, we see eight wall prototypes and the surrounding neighborhoods on both sides of the existing border barriers. Less divisively, in Joe Talbot's The Last Black Man in San Francisco, a young man lovingly preserves the rundown Victorian house his family lost. The family originally acquired this ornate structure with a witch’s hat, stained glass windows, wooden archways, and built-in organ after the Japanese owners' internment during World War Two. Gentrification, artistry, and black male identity are explored in this tale of the house. “Your radiator is a D Flat,” says the "house tuner" played by Peter Sarsgaard in director Michael Tyburski's The Sound of Silence. Sarsgaard's character solves New York City residents' ills by painstakingly analyzing their out-of-sync domestic sounds (the toaster accompanying the aforementioned radiator is a G Major). A corporation surreptitiously monetizes his theories with virtual home inspections, advertising on New York City street kiosks. Dan Gilroy’s Velvet Buzzsaw, a sendup of the art world with an art critic (Jake Gyllenhaal), artist (John Malkovich), curator (Toni Collette), and gallerist (Rene Russo) who live and work in stupendous houses, galleries, and the fictional art museum LAMA, which uses Diller, Scofidio + Renfro’s Broad Museum and Gehry’s Disney Concert Hall. New Frontier, the media arts section, showed artworks that used virtual and augmented reality, many of which explored ideas about race and community. THE DIAL is an augmented reality artwork from Peter Flaherty, Jesse Garrison, and Trey Gilmore centered on a house around which a murder mystery unravels. Traveling While Black from Roger Ross Williams, Félix Lajeunesse, and Paul Raphaël uses The Green Book—a 20th-century guide for African-American travelers—as a starting point to drop viewers in Ben’s Chili Bowl in Washington, D.C., where viewers “sit” in a diner booth with storytellers. In Marshall from Detroit, a 360-degree virtual reality documentary from Caleb Slain, Félix Lajeunesse, and Paul Raphaël, we motor with hometown boy Eminem, who talks with journalist Sway Calloway about the city that shaped him. We see an abandoned church, a destroyed factory, a glorious movie palace, a skyscraper, and a hip-hop battle in a freezing-cold abandoned building. Kaiju Confidential is about a different kind of disruption. In this virtual reality short created by Thomas O'Donnell, Ethan Shaftel, and Piotr Karwas, two monsters battle over whose modernist Japanese city is theirs to destroy. The veteran green beast claims the greater metropolitan area, while his 2-headed rival gets relegated to the suburbs. The Immersive Stage, a three-sided projection room, showcased three digital environments: artist Peter Burr's Dirtscraper, an underground system of “smart architecture” overseen by spatial and social engineers; Matt Romein's analmosh, a dynamic audio-visual landscape; and Victor Morales and Jason Batcheller's Esperpento, based on the Madrid of Goya’s Los Caprichos paintings.