Bathing in Lightness est une installation lumineuse et sonore interactive qui semble animée par une entité essaim essayant d’explorer son monde intérieur et de communiquer avec l’extérieur. Composé de 52 ampoules à filament, il visualise le mouvement d’un essaim de particules entraîné par la présence du spectateur et sa propre envie intérieure. Les visiteurs peuvent interagir avec l’installation en se déplaçant devant elle tandis que leur mouvement est suivi par l’essaim et ainsi traduit en lumière et en son – visibles à l’intérieur du groupe d’ampoules et audibles via des haut-parleurs ou des écouteurs à proximité.
Kimchi and Chips
Line Segments Space
An architectural web of threads subtends a null space. It hangs abstract and undefined, a set of thin positive elements segmenting the dark negative space between. Dynamic imaginary forms are articulated into the physical volume by the material of this thread, and the semi-material of the light. The visual gravity of the filaments occupying the space between. A 2D canvas is reduced from a surface piece into a line segment, but then constructed into another dimension, a volume. Light creates contrast and order on the lines to articulate digital matter. Digital forms inhabit the interconnected boundaries of space, becoming incarnate as visual mass.
If you’ve never seen a Tesla coil in person, it’s a remarkable experience. Purple plasma flashes in unpredictable, wide-reaching bolts. The sound cracks with more fearsomeness than a whip. The air fills with the sterile acridity of ozone. The effect is equal parts frightening and beautiful; this machinery can use enough voltage to carbonize your flesh right down to the bone, yet some self-destructive impulse tells you to look closer. Alexandre Burton plays with this very impulse in his installation, Impacts. The exhibition features several Tesla coils that hang from the ceiling. They fire, not against a cage or predictable grounding surface, but a delicate pane of glass, so the viewer can appreciate the plasma filaments like a framed piece of art or a caged lion.
This piece consisted of a high curtained structure which circulated the material around in one space. It stopped every 15 seconds or so, enough time for one or two people to enter into the spinning vortex of linen material. Whilst standing inside the whirlwind of fabric I felt as though I myself were almost flying or being transported to another dimension or something (ok, this description might be slightly exaggerated, but I have quite an ambitious imagination!) Either way, I fully enjoyed the experience of the piece immensely.
Influenced by the utopian projects — and notable failures — of innovative artists and designers such as Buckminster Fuller, Frederick Kiesler, and Charles Eames, Tobias Putrih likens his works to experiments, or design prototypes. His use of cheap materials, including egg crates, cardboard, and plywood signify both a sense of potential and impending collapse. Many of the artist’s works reference the architecture and spectacle of the cinema: a space suspended between fantasy and reality, image and environment. With Re-projection: Hoosac Putrih distills the cinema to its most basic element: fishing line stretched across the gallery mimics the conical trajectory of a beam of light. A spotlight hits the strands of monofilament which in turn become a screen, reflecting an image in illuminated dots. Inspired by the Hoosac Tunnel just east of North Adams — a storied, engineering marvel that draws ghost-hunters to the area — Putrih’s tunnel is, likewise, both real and a representation, an optical trick that invites both wonder and investigation.