Erica Gressman’s performance, Wall of Skin, was a spectacle of smoke, sound, lights, and costume at the second annual IMPACT Festival of 2012 Thesis Performances at the SAIC. It struck me more than any other performance in the event for it’s impeccable finish and dedication. The piece started out with the audience filling into a small room, all of us facing a white spandex clad figure atop a platform, backlit by a box with light streaming from its seams. We were given earplugs beforehand, and when we walked in we could feel the vibration from the sound, which was like an electronic heartbeat muffled by amniotic fluid. As fog filled the room, and our lungs (which was a bit stifling), the figure, whose whole body was covered in a thin skin-like costume, began to dance and move in time to the beat. The whole scene evoked a futuristic post-apocalyptic dystopia and it was hard to decide if the figure was a new breed of human or an alien. They seemed trapped by their skin and they clawed at the layers slowly shedding the translucent fabric, always revealing an identical layer beneath. The figure seemed unhappy, confused, and as if searching for something, perhaps freedom. You were aware of the shape of her body, with the clinging fabric, her unabashed movements, and the total anonymity. Although clingy, it was hard to determine the sex of the performer, which made her seem more alien. Her arms were connected to the shallow lit box behind her with cords and as she pulled against them slow streams of light started opening up. She struggled against them, and beautiful, haunting strands of golden light appeared in the cold light of the foggy room. It was frightening and the audience’s anticipation was palpable. It seemed as if anything could happen on this cold inhabitable alien planet that we had arrived on. The figure also seemed unpredictable; the performer had complete control over her movements, yet they seemed almost inhuman. It seemed as if this creature could jump into the crowd at any moment, perhaps attacking some of the audience.

It was clear this figure was in despair. There were moments that seemed unplanned in the performance, such as when the cord seemed to get stuck in the box and the performer had to spend a couple minutes prying it loose to create the desired streams of light yet she handled these moments beautifully. I am assuming that the struggle was unplanned but it was hard to tell because she integrated it so seamlessly into the performance and never broke character for a second. She incorporated all of the movements into the dance, and made them seem purposeful. After a long struggle the streams of light reached the bottom of the box and it collapsed on top of her. She fell under its weight but after a moment climbed on top and began beating it with her fists until it was in pieces. She was victorious in fighting the oppression, and completed the “demolition” that she describes in her statement in the program. The performance went on for a few minutes after the demolition, including a moment when she unsuccessfully tried to pry a light bulb from one of the fixtures secured behind the box. I was very curious to see what she would do with it. I assumed she would smash it and the danger of that thought was enticing. The piece ended with the heartbeat slowing down and the figure eventually curling up in the rubble, suddenly sullen and shy after her glorious battle.

The audience was then ushered out of the room. Leaving the performance I felt very satisfied, the piece seemed very whole and cohesive. The story that she wove all around us concluded in a neat package. We walked in and were introduced to this alien world, then this struggle or conflict began, and it ended with her victory. It was the classic good-guy-wins tale, although complicated by the fact it was hard to tell if the performer was a good guy or a bad guy. Her struggle evoked Winston Smith from 1984, the music, staging, and costume was reminiscent of Brazil, and the drama and theatricality reminded me of the Blue Man Group. But underneath the elaborate staging, the story was a classic one: a figure held back from their full potential or happiness by some greater powers that be, and finally breaking free in the end. It is the story of all humanity. From the statement she gives in the program, I assume that the powers that bind this figure are technology and perhaps human sexuality and the black and white way they are often perceived. Many elements of this performance haunt my dreams: the slowly growing golden cracks of light in the backdrop, which seem to foreshadow something catastrophic such as the end of the world, the inhuman movements of the performer, clawing at her flesh and peeling off layers of her “skin”, and the deep vibrating sound which sounded like what I imagine an inside of a robot’s womb to sound like. The last element was enhanced by the earplugs, which blocked out a lot of the noise and left a deep rumbling that shook you to the core. It also made you aware of your own breath, which might have been a little heavy from the fog and nervous anticipation.

Overall, Erica Gressman’s piece was beautiful and I believe, ever successful. She told a beautiful and haunting story and her elaborate staging transported the viewer to an alien place and made you forget you were in a classroom that you are all too familiar with. She brought up issues of democracy, freedom, sexuality, technology vs. the human, etc. but left it open to the viewer’s own interpretation. For me, the raw energy of the piece was more important than trying to dissect meaning from it. The performance made me feel, and had me experiencing rather than critiquing which to me was its ultimate test of success.

Click here for the full interview with Tumelo Mosaka and his team's collaborative publication.

Robyn Farrell: What were your expectations as guest curator for the 2012 MFA show, and how did they change throughout the curatorial process? How were you able to apply aspects of your own curatorial practice to such a diverse range of students and material?

Tumelo Mosaka: It’s really hard to know what you’re signing up for until you’re in it. I was inspired by the previous MFA show and had given a presentation to the 2011 curatorial fellows. It looked like an exciting opportunity to be working with fellows interested in exhibition making. The scale was both daunting and, at the same time, challenging to have a team working with so many students. I’ve mostly worked with art students, so the opportunity to work with students who were not artists and interested in curatorial practice was a new experience. It was also an opportunity to collaborate in ways that I would normally not. Throughout this process, I’ve learned a lot, especially from you, the curatorial fellows. Your passions, interests, and professionalism have been very impressive. I don’t think I was this way when I first began. As to the second part of your question about my approach, I think I was very clear from the beginning that I wanted the fellows to take ownership. With this in mind, I saw my role as a mentor or advisor. I was keen on having you establish relationships with the artists and build trust, so that the exchange could be genuine. This usually requires time, which we didn’t have, but we made the best of it.
The process for me was really about working through you, the fellows.

Elçin Marasli: What are some of the biggest challenges you have come across while orchestrating multiple voices in the formation of a group exhibition, both as one of the guest curators and as a team manager of your fellows?

TM: Every project has its challenges and part of our work is finding solutions. This means being able to negotiate, multi-task, and listen. It’s not always the case that you’re just working with artworks. You also have to deal with personalities— sometimes this is where your patience is pushed—but is also where subtleties of meaning can be found. One of the more frustrating challenges has been the third party influence on student work. This at times has left students either confused or convinced about what work to submit for the show. Other challenges include, the workings of guest curators with very different ideas. All this, fortunately, has been well managed. Critical to this process was finding common ground and having respect for each other’s views. So, yes, endurance pays off and I think working with you guys has made this experience worthwhile.

Allison Glenn: Can you tell us a bit about your background and experience leading up to this point? What experiences helped shape your professional development, and what are your aspirations for the future?

TM: This follows nicely from what I said before about collaboration. My first curatorial experience was at the 1st Johannesburg Biennale in 1995. I began as trainee curator working with an independent curator Octavio Zaya based in New York. From our first encounter, I remember him saying to me, “Find your voice and believe in what you do.” That sounded great then, but what exactly did it mean? It took me some time to understand that curating was about putting forward your vision. It is about creating a narrative informed by your experience of the world. Having grown up in a very politicized country— South Africa—most of my work involves inserting into the mainstream those marginal voices that are critical of dominant historical perspectives. I work a lot with emerging artists and am interested in making connections across ethnic, racial, gender, and geographical boundaries. At least that is what I always have in mind, but it also changes depending on where I am. So you have to be flexible and sometimes you don’t have much choice.

Ross Jordan: What lessons are you taking away from this experience working with MA and MFA students?

TM: Without distance, it’s hard to say, but I can say it has been an intense and enjoyable experience. Your hard work is what has kept me engaged and I look forward to seeing how the curatorial fellows will impact the field of curating.

Sullivan Galleries Saturday, May 5 4:30 –7:30 p.m.
An evening of interactive games, engagements, and performances by artists, with exhibition tours by the Curatorial Fellows.

“Do you feel your work in the MFA show is a culmination of your two years of study at SAIC?”

Marla Sanvick, It Happened Here But I Thought About It Over There, 2012

Marla Sanvick : The work I’m presenting in the MFA exhibition is a continued reflection on my interest in human communication. All parts have been realized through the same investigation, of which has been most heavily researched within the past two years. A ‘culmination’ of two years of study, feels too heavy a definition, placing too much emphasis on it being an end. The biggest challenge for me in creating work for this exhibition was suppressing the desire to show it all; everything I’ve studied, failed at, learned from in an attempt to wrap it up. The exhibition is more a representation of my current position; it’s a moment of pause.

Ashley D. Hairston: My work involves themes I have been concerned with for years. As a graduate student, I have been given methods, authority, and support in addressing these issues through a variety of forms. The work I am presenting in the exhibition is just one iteration of possible presentations. I look forward to the reactions and comments as I provide a broader, more public audience access to my work.

Nick Parparian: My work has been a struggle with how technology affects our lives and the problems that can arise. This work is a continuation of this process, dealing more with the aging of the information revolution and the idea that this same technology is increasingly becoming a driving force in our lives.

Alex Zhang: The work in the MFA show is a culmination in a way that it represents my deepest and most sincere understanding of myself, as well as the world at this point in my life. I did not have a background in fine art before coming to SAIC where I learned almost everything I know about the field. In my two years of study I went through countless failed experiments. . Through this process it became more and more clear what it is I like, what I care about, what I believe in. Finally I created works for the show that, more than ever, my heart could truly echoed.

Min Jung Kim: For two years, I just expressed what I wanted, but surprisingly all of my work is connected through concepts of Parafiction and culture jamming. My work in the MFA show contains these interests while also addressing surveillance issues. Ultimately my approach to visual communication design starts from the question, “How to see and How to be seen?”

Kelly K. Jones: I chose to pursue an MFA at SAIC confident that I would be pushed outside of and beyond the art making practice I had grown comfortable with. The faculty, my advisors, and my peers both encouraged and challenged me. The work I’m presenting is truly a culmination of all that I’ve dreamt, researched, and questioned during my time at SAIC. My photographs are grounded in what has always been important to me, but now my work is able to go beyond the boundaries of self.

I spent the past two years pushing and pulling at every new idea and question. I picked at each critique and interpretation, trying to learn and grow as much as possible. There is no doubt that I am nowhere near any certain solution. However, I have learned to hold questions with confidence, and to trust in the making process. My hope is that this MFA show honors these pursuits. This exhibition offers closure to my graduate school experience as it prepares me for what comes next.

Derilyn Chambers: My work investigates the complexities of a racialized and socio-economically focused society. It considers new paradigms to encourage viewers to see and approach racial identity with new eyes, to look beyond “either/or” and to think in terms of “both/and.” The interdisciplinary and analogic scope in which my work is presented also challenges viewers to see that as much as there is difference, there is sameness, prompting to look beyond the mystery of the “skin” and to probe beneath it.

Through my two years at SAIC, I have also learned to feel more comfortable within ambiguity, to start from the middle when I don’t know the beginning or the end, and to keep moving no matter what. That’s art. That’s learning. That’s life.

Jane Jerardi
Nocturne, Performance, April 27th 8pm-9:30pm

MFA Sculpture Candidate Alex Gartelmann takes a break with MFA Fiber and Material Studies Candidate Corkey Sinks.

photo by: Allison Glenn

“My Grandfather’s Wifebeater 2007, My Wifebeater 2011″ by Lilly Hern-Fondation.

Photo by Ionit Behar

]]> http://blogs.saic.edu/gradexhibition2012/making-mfa-2012/glowing-in-the-dark/feed/ 0 http://blogs.saic.edu/gradexhibition2012/making-mfa-2012/last-minute-details/ http://blogs.saic.edu/gradexhibition2012/making-mfa-2012/last-minute-details/#comments Tue, 24 Apr 2012 17:44:52 +0000 aglenn1 http://blogs.saic.edu/gradexhibition2012/?p=1266

MFA Painting and Drawing Department Candidate Shonna Pryor puts the finishing touches on her installation.

photo by Allison Glenn

Throughout the exhibition-making process, the conceptualization of the artists’ projects has proved to be a constant place of excitement and development. MFA Design for Emerging Technologies Candidate Ivan A. Martinez‘s original proposal has developed into a sculptural monument and archive for the artist’s personal history.

In the image above, MFA Fiber and Material Studies Candidate Allison Wade is assisting Ivan on some of the final details for his work. The interior of the sculpture houses a collaborative project in which the artist’s father worked from memory to trace a path around the neighborhood in Cuba where he grew up.

photo by Allison Glenn

The Curatorial Fellows with Professor Mary Jane Jacob examining Juliann Wang‘s intricate hanging sculpture, A Slow Rush.