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dividing line between the carousel's hidden mechanisms and its exposed
spectacle reappears in my installations in the form of a screen
which I use to magnify the separation of spaces. In Sei Shonagon's
diary, The Pillow Book, she describes
the everyday experience of living in the emperor's palace as a lady-in-waiting
in tenth century Japan. Within this prescribed world of rituals
and superstitions, she constantly refers to the separation between
men and women. Rarely communicating face to face, they spoke through
screens or curtains of state. Men and women either passed notes
underneath the screen or spoke to one another through the screen,
recognizing someone by their silk robe, which was visible underneath
the curtain of state, by the sound of their voice, or by their scent.
In my work, the screen is a multi-faceted site of exchange. It is
a barrier to and site of communication, the surface where secrets
are exposed, and a separator of domestic and public space. By observing
the silhouetted sequence from the outside, the viewer actively participates
as a voyeur of a private ritual as if through a window of a house. |
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| In Offerings: A Division of Labor, an awkward dialog takes place on the screen which hangs above a twelve
foot long table. From the far end of the table, a zoetrope mechanism
projects a series of hands that hesitate, then toss a bone, as if
to make a proposition or offer a secret deal. Seated at the receiving
end of this gesture, a secretary chair responds by intermittently
putting both hands out in expectation. One machine asks, the other
machine answers. One machine produces, the other consumes. Through
these oversimplified body gestures, the structured setting takes on
the weight of a scrutinizing job interview, a congressional hearing
(like the Clarence Thomas-Anita Hill sessions) or a tense social occasion. |
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