An installation at the Whashang Art District explores notions of space and emptiness
Two dynamic solo exhibitions, currently on view in Taipei, challenge the viewer to look not at the obvious, but at the space between objects. Since we are trained to consume media images, it takes a slight shift of perception for us to pay full attention to the non-image. The two featured artists, Chen Chun-ming (
The cluster of abandoned liquor factories that now make up the Whashang Art District (華山藝術特區) provides a cavernous exhibition space for Chen, who also teaches spatial design. For his installation titled In-between, Chen achieves a balance of empty and full, simple and complex.
Playing off the factory's architecture and its set of arched doorways, Chen has also divided his installation into three parts: a video projection of two electric fans, an interactive seesaw installation, and words projected on three screens. The edges of the space are immersed in darkness, while the central portion is bathed in glowing light with a shiny, reflective metal floor on which are placed five 4.5m seesaws. These are not mere toys. Their large size distorts the normal experience of gravity, giving the sensation of being simultaneously rooted in the ground and flying.
PHOTO: MANRAY HSU
The video projection at the far end of the space -- adapted from a previous exhibition -- shows rotating, noisy fans. A large floor fan faces a smaller wall-mounted fan. Both are linked at the blades by three red cords. The different rotation speeds of the blades cause the cords to alternately become entangled and then disentangle.
At the opposing end of the space, contrasting words in English or Chinese such as "black" and "white," "import" and "export," or "home" and "homeless" are projected on panels attached to the wall. The center panel, however, remains empty, offering the viewer reflective space to ponder the juxtapositions presented by the words.
The exhibition consistently returns to the concept of "the middle" with situations or spaces that allow for reflection on the relationships between objects or ideas. In-between implies two opposing sides, so as we balance ourselves in life, Chen suggests that we focus, not on the extremes, but on the central areas.
PHOTO: MANRAY HSU
At Chen's opening, two French dancers Maxime Iannarelli and Yasmine Hugonnet, improvised dance movements and precariously balanced themselves on the seesaws to create a focal point for Chen's exhibition. Their movements alluded to the uniting and unraveling of the fans' cords from the video.
The two dancers will be conducting a dance and movement workshop at Whashang Art District from Feb. 15 to Feb. 22. Call (02) 8809-1391 for further information and reservations.
Walis Wu reflects on his Aboriginal roots, but all he can see are shadows
Walis Wu (
PHOTO: MANRAY HSU
A Tayal Aboriginal Woman Working on her Weaving shows the handiwork in the foreground, while the weaver has disappeared; yet, her tools seem suspended in mid-air. In other photographs, only the stereotypical artifacts such as men's war toys like bows and clubs, and women's weaving instruments and adornments remain, while the human has been erased and obliterated from this history.
There is a powerful and quiet dignity to these images. In several of the photos, the figures' shadows are left on the print. Several slide projectors then slowly restore the figure to his or her place in the photo, and seemingly bringing the photo's subjects back to life. Wu's Aborigines fade away, but he brings their memory back to life.
Wu's installation is multi-layered, touching on themes such as presence and absence, rewriting of history, authorship and the essence of memory. His work also hints at personal narrative and his own personal predicament. Part Han and part-Tayal, Wu straddles both cultures in a world where stereotypes of Aborigines persist. Facing discrimination, Aborigines are eager to defend their own heritage against stereotypes. Wu's exhibition is a way of reconciling his background and presenting himself as falling in between these two worlds.
Wu's exhibition would have appeared to be about personal memory were it not for the inclusion of an evocative video. A combination of hallucinatory colors with footage from a circa-1930 documentary that depicts Japanese soldiers' authoritarian demeanor towards Taiwan's Aborigines brings the social and political context to his work. But Wu does not come across as didactic even in this piece. The footage is blurry and diluted, suggesting that the past is already forgotten. Memories change, assimilate, fade away. So when presented images of colonizers and colonized, and since many of our own ancestral backgrounds are blended and assimilated, with whom do we identify?
For your information:
What: Walis Wu 吳鼎武, "The Invisible Project - Y2K+1"
Where: Taipei Fine Arts Museum, 181 Chungshan N. Rd., Sec. 3
When: Until March 18
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