The dizzying weight of art

“Art is the only way to run away without leaving home.” ― Twyla Tharp

It was a cool, slightly greying afternoon. Yellowing leaves from the ageing Jacarandas dropped in our hair as bird song and wind filled our ears.  High on the hill, overlooking the city, my friend and I, the only visitors, descended the scaffold stairs into the brick architectural space of a former water storage unit and the weight of the day vanished.

The historic Spring Hill reservoir has been transformed again.  I wrote previously about this public space hosting the Underground Opera and the transcendent experience sound, in the gothic space, has on a listener.  I returned this week to be mesmerised by light.

Open mouthed we stared from on high at the magic woven beneath us. Arriving on solid ground we felt like kids in a mirror maze, removed from the world above.  Daylight from the door overhead  and a small table lamp provided enough light by which to tentatively navigate our way.  At first, without the path lit to discern our course, we gingerly inched along feeling as though we might come to a mirrored dead-end.  Becoming marginally more emboldened we picked our way through the suspended electroluminescent wire framing, that mimicked the shapes of the architecture, and felt a renewed sense of arrival in each segment of the space.

I could not explain how I felt at the time.  Several days hence the best way to describe it is —dislocated.  I felt dislocated and disoriented.  I felt not quite myself.  There was a sense of it at the edges of my consciousness that only now I can liken to  Alice swirling down the rabbit hole.

This free installation continues until the September 23rd and is well worth the visit. I have since discovered the Brisbane City Council has commissioned three artists to present another installation in the Reservoirs that will use sound, film and kinetic sculpture. No doubt, they too will cause visitors to reposition themselves in a familiar historical space.

Brisbane artist, Meagan Streader’s work is exhibited nationally and internationally. It  reflects the minimalist art of the Light and Space movement and reveals the pervasive role of light in governing physical and social navigations of fabricated spaces. Pushing the limits of light within sculpture and installation, she manipulates, reinterprets and extends upon the boundaries of constructed spaces. Through site-specific interventions, her multidimensional use of light re-orientates the viewer’s relationship to the existing architecture and scale of space.

 

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Redefining preconceptions about art

“Art is not what you see, but what you make others see.” ~ Degas

In retrospect, it was public art. It had an energy to it. It brought life to the places around me. I thought I had an open mind when it came to art. It didn’t take long to realise my beliefs were outdated as I scrambled to adjust a decades old perception of public art.

The genre of public art for me had included sculpture, murals and I threw in street art, which I know is not strictly public art, but I was challenged to rethink my view-point recently when I hit the streets of Brisbane to follow a contemporary public art trail.

Armed with a downloaded PDF my partner in art and I headed off for a morning of joy and immersion in creativity. The very first piece we came across was not included on the list.  A week later I discovered it was the city’s newest piece of public art (below).  It was obviously art to me, as to the other pieces on the list, to be honest, we were stumped.  I had excepted the art to be easy to find and literally hit us in the face.  We stood on street corners searching.  We wandered up and down pavements looking.  Checking the ‘map’ and descriptions we soon discovered some of the art was what I might have mistaken for building decoration and architectural flourishes rather than commissioned work from the public purse.

Now I know all art does not appeal to all people – I get that. But I was perplexed by the painted ceilinged walkway, the coloured tiled wall and the barely perceptible swirls on the glass facade of a building.  Had I not been searching for these pieces they would have caught my eye and I would have admired the beauty, the departure from the norm in each of them.  On this occasion, I was expecting something different. Something more immediately recognisable. Something I could ‘label’ with an existing language to say – hey, that’s a piece of art.

I came away slightly disconcerted and just a little baffled but keen to redefine an obviously outdated and incorrect viewpoint.  What I have discovered, thanks to the Association of Public Art, is that “public art is not an art ‘form’.  Its size can be huge or small. It can tower fifty feet high or call attention to the paving beneath your feet. Its shape can be abstract or realistic (or both), and it may be cast, carved, built, assembled, or painted. It can be site-specific or stand in contrast to its surroundings. What distinguishes public art is the unique association of how it is made, where it is, and what it means. Public art can express community values, enhance our environment, transform a landscape, heighten our awareness, or question our assumptions. Placed in public sites, this art is there for everyone, a form of collective community expression. Public art is a reflection of how we see the world – the artist’s response to our time and place combined with our own sense of who we are.”

According to this comprehensive definition and with a new understanding, each piece of art I discovered was appropriately classified as public art and I am keen to discover more. Have you had a similar experience where you have had to adjust your thinking to align with  a more widely held view?