Sunday, June 22, 2008

TO WEND


wend 1a verb trans. Alter the position or direction of; turn (a thing) round or over.
—page 3612, Shorter Oxford English Dictionary, Fifth Edition


"to wend" is an installation at University of Washington Tacoma Gallery by artists (and professors) Tyler Budge and Sara Young. It is one of the most fascinating art installations I have ever seen; something I equate with the pleasure that was the Maryhill Double.

The room is lined with forty small painted panels, approximately 6.5" x 10" in size, that depict scenes of horizon. Each panel is bisected by the horizon, with sky above and water or land below. Most of the panels depict what may or may not be the same scene, with variations in color, cloud cover, time of day. There is confusion in our vantage point, but the panels appear to be related in more than just size and depiction of their landscapes.

Is it a point on a hill that we observe from, always staring in the same direction? Is it a point on a hill that we observer from, looking in various directions? Is it a different scene of horizon in each panel? My guess is that it is the second.

In that case, we have a vantage point that allows us to view a larger horizon over a period time, thereby a sense of larger space and longer time are developed that we couldn't otherwise inhabit. We visit sunrises and sunsets, view water and land, and observe clouds, fog, and clear skies.

The paintings are primarily in variations of blues and greens, with white, yellow, and the occasional reddish-brown. The seven to nine panels where the reddish-brown is used really stand out, especially the final panel that feels different from the other thirty-nine paintings due to the dominance of the color.

The yellow of most of the paintings is from beeswax that has been melted onto the panels and then mostly melted off the panels again. It gives the paintings an antiquated look and feel, but also makes them strangely enticing, welcoming. I couldn't quite figure out what the material was that appeared to be "oozing" from the sides of the panels and coating the surface, so I had to ask.

The mystery of the beeswax just elicited more questions for me. Do bees wend? They constantly alter their direction as they seek out nectar and pollen. Is the absence of any bees in the gallery important, as is the presence of a product of their work? They are disappearing in great numbers. Are we to turn back from the destruction that we have wreaked upon their habitat, the environment that we share with them? In that case, then our wending could also be a repentance of sorts.

---

In addition to the panels, there are three televisions (one on each of the solid brick walls) showing the same couple minute loop of video, although not synchronously. The video consists of the two artists, dressed in white T-shirts and dark pants, looking through a fully extending orange windsock. Each artist is spinning to mirror the other, and the images slightly overlap one another, giving the whole a ghostly, haunted tone. These images, in turn, are played over an image of Puget Sound water that is running backward. This is made apparent by a small motorboat in the scene that appears to devour its own wake.

This scene is followed by two more. The first is of the male figure, in the same dress and looking through the same windsock, wading just shy of waist-deep water in the direction of the wind. The second is of the female figure, in the same dress and looking through the same windsock, walking in front of and past a scraggly tree.

---

The final piece of the installation is a large sculpture in the middle of the room. It consists of two large orange windsocks, hanging limply and spinning about in unison on the poles to which they are attached. The poles are attached to a wooden base that houses the small motor and chains that turn them. The wooden base is a portion of a circle, an arc, that is intersected by an off-center line. Therefore, the base appears to be an arrow of sorts, although one that is slightly askew. It also gives the appearance of a compass.

The questions that it gave me were: Where are we going? Where am I going?

---

I spent quite some time in this quiet, contemplative, tranquil setting during its opening reception, much of it by myself. I hope to return to spend some more time within the installation space, to once again reflect on the questions it raises for me, to wander to places I didn't imagine prior, to wend.

---

"to wend" runs at University of Washington Tacoma Gallery, 1742 Pacific Avenue, through July 15, 2008. Gallery hours are Tuesdays/Thursdays 1–5 p.m.; Fridays 12–5 p.m.; and Saturdays 11–4 p.m. Call the gallery for more information at 253-571-7914.

No comments: