Last year we discovered the fabulous 3D work by James Rizzi at Galerie ID. The interest has been phenomenal. He obviously has fans all round the world. We have now been shown his printed “merchandise.” But we’re not talking about posters and tee-shirts. This is quality beautiful stuff from limited-edition Rosenthal ceramics to totally collectable zippo lighters (and a really funky umbrella.) Enjoy our little video!!!
“Directed Pink Expansion,” César Baldaccini, 1967, Plastic bin and polyurethane.
I’m back in Stockholm. I decide to take a peek at Moderna Museet. As always, it’s hosting a nice mix of works by pop artists. On the floor of one room is “Directed Pink Expansion.” I do not gasp at its beauty; but the work is arresting in many senses. The entire spilled thing looks messy and sticky; it disturbs and amuses me. I like to have things in order; nice and neat and tidy. Call the cleaners ASAP! But I don’t move on. I become aware of association of thought and emotion unusual in the cool confines of a prestigious gallery.
Even though I know the structure is made of hard polyurethane (for that is what the little sign says,) I want to poke this goo. An inner voice tells me that it is chewy, edible and maybe poisonous (or maybe all three!) The colour suggests caramel, tomato sauce or blood. Or maybe this is a bin of some awful all-invading toxic waste accidentally knocked over and now polluting the environment? How would the Ghostbusters deal with it?
César Baldaccini (1921-1998) remains a key figure in French contemporary sculpture. This is the guy who, in the early 1960s after visitng a car-crusher, famously exhibited cubes made of compressed cars at the Paris Exhibition. At the same time, he did a number of “expansions.” Wow! Fascinating links! Compression and expansion; pushing together and falling apart; filling and spilling; construction and destruction. Was César buzzing around the basic laws of physics about energy states and everything tending toward chaos? And why do I think of cleaners? Because what they do, in terms of physics, is expend energy to turn a tiny little bit of our chaos-destined universe back into order. I look again at Directed Pink Expansion. If universal laws of physics were in César’s head in 1967, there is something not quite right about the way the work is displayed here. It is on its own thin stage!
Photo copyright: César/BUS 2015
It’s the last days of December. I head off across Geneva to work. I am very late. It is minus 6 degrees. The wintery morning sky is crystal clear. My tram squeaks and rattles its way through Place Bel Air. I wipe the condensation from the window. I notice some guy in the street taking a photograph of something up in the air. I crane my neck to see what has caught his attention. There is a figure made of chicken wire hanging off a cable. I go back to my newspaper.
Much too late the same day, I am back on the tram crossing Place Bel Air again but in the opposite direction. A cold dry wind is whistling down the lake. Night has fallen. I look up wondering what has happened to chicken-wire man. I spot him. He has been dramatically and intensely illuminated. I feel as though a fuse has been lit inside me. I see only a beautiful floating-flying figure. I leap out of my seat and tumble out onto the pavement. I am mesmerised. I dig into my bag for a camera. This will be a photographic challenge. I then notice a second glowing figure sitting high on a nearby building. I have an extraordinary and uplifting feeling that, out of the dozens of people hurrying home, I am the only person of interest to these luminous dudes.
I look around me. There is another flying man high over the river. His poise is elegant. He is in some kind of communication with the first guy. They both seem to be having such fun; maybe comparing notes how best to glide in the freezing air?
I turn and look at the tram stop. Another watchful figure surveys the scene. She is pensive, static and emanates a lightness of being. There is no doubt that she could, at any moment, simply lift off to swoop and loop with her companions. I’m sure they don’t really take much notice of us. But then I think maybe they are watching over us but in rather a distracted, amused and casual way.
Meet “Les Voyageurs” by Cedric Le Borgne. This is a masterful creation that has indeed travelled to many corners of the world. The figures give the impression that, with the blink of an eye, they could simply flit off into the night never to be seen again. The whole work pulls me into fantasy land; it represents a presence from another world. Rarely has an urban work captured me like this.
However, at a more objective level and what I admire most about this work is Le Borgne’s technical mastery of what must be an incredibly difficult medium to work with. How does one bend and mould chicken-wire to create figures that are not only anatomically correct but also adopt a credible and pleasing human posture for a non-human activity (i.e., flying)? Visually, they work. This is why they do a little transport job on my spirits and my sense of reality. If you are late night shopping in the next couple of weeks, take stroll down to Bel Air. Let your spirits be transformed!
“Les Voyageurs” is a part of Geneva’s first Lux Festival. Other installations can be seen in Place Longemalle and on Ile Rousseau. I look forward to the second Lux festival.