Installation art

by Dena Crain

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Editor’s Note: In her article, Dena Crain clarifies the definition of installation art to “uncloud the notion of it” — as she stated in an email exchange — and describes two installations using fiber which meet the criterion. However, they are two of a very small number of installations using fiber or referencing patchwork. The dearth of fiber installations proves there is ample room in our field for artists to come forward with exciting concepts. Consider this a call-to-arms for a new creative avenue for your work.

 

A walk through the underground tunnel of the Detroit International Airport is a remarkable experience. One cannot see the other end when entering the wide and low-ceilinged tunnel. It slopes gently downward and then back up again to give the effect of an enclosed area that runs to infinity. Along the tunnel’s side walls is a work of art that renders the space something other than what it is. Without this work of art, the tunnel would be merely itself—a long, dreary trudge from one airline terminal building to the next. With the art, the tunnel becomes a new space, a place where people want to linger or, if they are in a rush to catch a plane, at least enjoy the journey.

Detroit Tunnel

Detroit Metropolitan Wayne County Airport McNamara Tunnel with installation art by Fox Fire Glass

This work of installation art is made of frosted, textured glass with multicolored strings of lights behind it. Cued into the New Age musical sound system, the lights flash in random patterns in time with the music, ever-changing as one moves along the passageway. The cloudiness of the glass softens and merges colors into every wavelength of the spectrum.

The miraculous effect of this interplay of light and music alters the entire space into a fantasy, rendering it into a fairyland that is positively delightful. Travelers pause to watch and listen, or to take photos. The art installation alters our impressions of the space, causing us to marvel at the interplay of light and music as we contemplate our perceptions of time and space relative to the experience of air travel. It transforms and shifts our sense of reality. Once inside the tunnel, a visitor is captured by the art and becomes part of another world. Such is the effect of installation art. Quilting has yet to move seriously into the world of installation art.

An examination of online definitions of the expression “installation art,” initially coined in the late 1960s and 1970s, shows each definition to be slightly different from the others, but they all share a cohesive ideology. Phrases excerpted from the lexicons include:

“…Uses sculptural materials and other media to modify the way we experience a particular space…”

“…incorporates almost any media to create a visceral and/or conceptual experience in a particular environment…”

“…incorporates any media, including the physical features of the site, to create a conceptual experience in a particular environment…”

“…may be temporary or permanent, but most will be known to posterity through documentation…”

“…can include any media from tree branches to words or more traditional media such as sculpture, video, sound, performance and space itself…”

“…some installations are site-specific; they can only exist in the space for which they were created.”

Key to our understanding of installation art is the idea that the art alters the space, creates a new and different—often very unusual and unexpected—change in the space the work occupies. The art and the space it occupies are thus inextricably interconnected. The two work together simultaneously to create a new environment, a place that is out of the ordinary and makes a conceptual statement on behalf of the artist to the viewer. Remove the work from the site and both the site and the work of art will experience loss; each will be less than it was when both functioned together, the gestalt effect wherein the “whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” If the work is not site-specific, then it cannot be said to modify the space within which it exists in a conceptual way. Relocation to a different space would set up a different relationship between work and space. We might well infer that if the work is not site-specific it becomes sculpture or some other genre of art, equally at home in any reasonably appropriate location. For this reason The AIDS Memorial Quilt, for example, does not qualify as installation art.

The tests for installation art, then, can be narrowed to two appropriate questions to be asked about each work of art:

  1. Is the work site-specific? Could it successfully be moved to any other venue that would accommodate it as well or perhaps even better? If it could not successfully be moved to another place, it is site-specific. Would such a relocation destroy the synergy between work and site that creates a larger unity? If so, then the work is site-specific.
  2. Is the work conceptual? Does it convey an idea or message? The linkage between work, space, and conceptual message is what defines installation art. Merely installing a work in a place as a permanent fixture is not sufficient to meet the criteria of installation art. An oversized patchwork quilt that is hung by steel cables and bolts from a wall or ceiling in such a manner that it pools on the floor does not in itself constitute installation art. It is merely an oversized quilt hung in a space that may be too low-ceilinged to accommodate its full length. Regardless of how beautiful and appealing the work may be, the work/space/conceptual linkage is missing.

Common misconceptions about installation art must surely be the result of the expression’s use by those who have been unaware of its technical meaning. Installation art has come to mean any art that has been installed. Under this inaccurate definition, a painting or quilt that has been permanently bolted to a wall, rather than hung in a manner which permits easy removal and rehanging in another location, might be defined as installation art. Installation art also becomes confused with the use of “installation” to describe any presentation in a gallery or museum exhibition. Journalists reporting on art shows often describe works of art as having been installed or as installations.

To avoid confusion, a more useful definition of installation art might be stated as: Installation art is a specific genre or category of art created from any medium which exists either temporarily or permanently, conveys a conceptual message from artist to viewer, and is site-specific. It modifies the space in which it exists so that art and space coexist as one and are mutually dependent upon each other; it is gestalt: the whole is greater than the sum of its parts. The installation may be difficult or impossible to commodify and/or to sell.

In a thorough search, not a single example was found of a patchwork quilt that was a site-specific installation, conveying a conceptual message, as defined by the requirements outlined above. Patchwork that is not quilted and other textile and mixed-media pieces can be found as installation art. One such example is a major work by Canadian Janet Morton: Femmebomb, 2004; University of Wisconsin, Madison. Morton created Femmebomb as an installation art patchwork presentation, now found in The Canadian Art Database, Centre for Contemporary Canadian Art. Made and displayed in 2004, Morton’s patchwork covered much of the School of Human Ecology at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, one of the first colleges in the United States to admit female students. The 19 patchwork quilt squares used to cover the building were made from recycled materials, with a variety of plastic and other media elements added in. The century-old building Morton selected housed departments for textiles and design, a gallery and quilt collection, and Morton’s studio for six months, and had been slated for renovation. Morton’s work was a last celebration of its function before reconstruction work on the building began. Of her work, Morton had this to say:

“My students were half sculpture students and half from textiles and were all women. They felt both burdened and embarrassed by the stereotypes associated with the building; they felt that no one from the rest of the university cared about what was taught in this building. My intentions with Femmebomb were three part; to cover the building using the means of production used within the building (weaving, dyeing, and sewing), celebrating and reversing the interior/exterior; to use construction materials often used and associated with men, but all orange and pink colors that are not considered masculine; and most importantly, to address the stereotypes by exploiting, exaggerating, and exploding them, hence the bomb reference.”

Femme Bomb

Femmebomb
by Janet Morton, 2004
University of Wisconsin, Madison
(artwork and photo by Janet Morton)

This work fits the description of patchwork as installation art, temporarily on exhibition with well-photographed documentation. Clearly site-specific, neither half of the installation, not the patchwork nor the building, would be the same without the other half. This patchwork and the space it occupies jointly create a conceptual message.

Made primarily from pink materials, Morton’s reference to feminism was clear. The inclusion of a 12-foot-high needle and an 8-foot-high spool of thread fairly shouted about the amount of labor that women have put into patchwork over time, even as it balanced and explained the creation of the patchwork façade on the building. Viewers were left to wonder at the gigantic size of the woman who made this patchwork; the term Amazon hardly does her justice. Yet, we find she is not one woman, but the collective creative spirit of all who passed through the doors of this fine learning institution in search of empowerment, perhaps a new way of life, and creative and emotional freedom. Morton poked fun at the seriousness of it all; at the same time, she elevated the statement of women who are perhaps stereotyped into specific roles, challenging her viewers to rethink the situation.

The second example of patchwork used as installation art comes from John Jones who, in a work called Leaves No Trace, constructed patchwork from plant leaves, then deposited the patchwork onto the ground and videotaped its decomposition over a period of five months. The videotapes were then used to create a virtual exhibition which can be viewed at www.youtube.com/watch?v=zLFPcfH54Yw.

To move forward with a discussion of quilts as installation art requires that we examine other uses of fabric and thread as installation art, which goes beyond the limitations of this article. Those interested should search for the works of Gabriel Dawe (thread), Christos (fabric), and Jared Charzewski (clothing). It is clear the field of installation art made from quilts is wide open. It is an arena of artistic expression that awaits the creative talents of quilters the world over. It would seem that perhaps the first true quilt installation art will be The Dream Rocket Project, due for completion and display in 2014. Even this work, clearly site-specific and conceptual, will not be made entirely as a quilt. There will still be plenty of room for textile artists to produce a quilt that is truly installation art!

SAQA professional artist member Dena Crain is an international and online design and sewing teacher and certified quilt judge who lives in Kenya. Her website is www.denacrain.com.

Regina Benson’s installation artwork

by Carolyn Lee Vehslage

The lack of installation of art quilts is disturbing because that means our genre is not keeping current with other mediums in the art world. If you go to the galleries in many of the major art cities around the world, such as New York City and Paris and London, many of the exhibitions are of installation art where the art is made for that particular space and is to be experienced within that space. If it is taken to another space, it takes on a whole new meaning.

One art quilter who is currently doing installation art is Regina Benson of Golden, Colorado. I was lucky enough to experience her Passage at the Ice Cube Gallery in Denver last fall. She suspended two very long surface-designed fabrics that floated from the ceiling. I walked between the two panels as they undulated in the air currents and were lit up internally by yellow lights. I felt as if I were surrounded by a wildfire.

Benson - Passage

Passage
dimensions variable
©2011 Regina Benson

Also during that same visit, Benson took me to the Lakewood Cultural Center in Lakewood, Colorado, where, among many of her three-dimensional pieces, she displayed her Amber Grove, consisting of tall, narrow quilted tubes. Each time they are displayed, they are assembled differently to meet the requirements of the space.

Benson’s One Autumn Day, three panels that were initially made for her installation at a Denver Botanical Gardens under the exhibition title From Nature’s Studio: Textiles by Regina Benson, will now be shown in Portland, Oregon, August 3 through September 21 at Chehalem Cultural Center.

Upcoming at the Ice Cube Gallery from June 19 to July 14, she has an exhibition called Wading In, about the world of water, and she will have 60 to 80 jellyfish (each one 6 to 8 inches in diameter) that will hang suspended at chest height with tentacles hanging down, in motion through the circulation of fans. To improve her skills as an installation artist, Benson is taking an engineering course in “Large Soft Sculpture Building with Fabric” given by Lynn Richardson at the Anderson Ranch outside of Aspen, Colorado. Benson believes that art needs to come off the walls, so people can experience the art within the space physically, emotionally, and conceptually instead of looking at the art hanging static on the wall. It’s a different way of interacting with the art, and one that more art quilters should think about for their own artwork.

Benson - Amber Grove <

Amber Grove
dimensions variable
©2010 Regina Benson