“Between Bodies”

Henry Art Gallery, University of Washington Oct 27, 2018 – Apr 28, 2019

The eight artists in “Between Bodies” take us from the air, to the minerals deep in the earth, the untamed rivers, the smoking forest, and finally to the sounds and microorganisms of the deep sea. They explore metaphors of sexual transformation, intraspecies and trans species communication, future avatars and present voices. We witness the fragility and destructibility of nature, as we experience its power and invisible miracles. All of these artists care deeply about the dire condition of the planet and seek ways to halt or reverse the violent assaults perpetrated by those in power. They give us imaginary futures based on present catastrophes.

Curated by Nina Bozicnik “Between Bodies” features eight artists who work with the interface of technology and nature, what she calls “humans and more than humans” and the “legacies of violence” on the planet. The artists work in multiple media:  archive, text, sculpture, video, virtual reality as well as across disciplines, science, art, history, science fiction, poetry, storytelling.

At the entrance we pass through Hormonal Fog by Candice Lin and Patrick Staff. Herbal tinctures (licorice root, hops, black cohosh root, and dong quai root,) dispersed by a fog machine fill the air with anti testosterone herbs that gentle our aggressive tendencies, one way forward for the planet.   

Caitlin Berrigan’s challenging multi-part Treatise on Imaginary Explosions, Vol. II. 2016–2018 requires us to give up real time and surrender to its narratives, fragments, and multipart structure. In the main theme transgender scientists prematurely trigger simultaneous volcanic eruptions all over the planet. Berrigan links patriarchal extractions of the earth and the rape of the individual body, identifying these eruptions as an opportunity for radical transformation.

In two facing spaces the Treatise includes a “digital elevation topographical rendering” of Eyjafjallajökull, a volcano in Iceland juxtaposed to physical objects including a physical chunk of mineral on a brass chain, journals, a necklace/talisman suggesting interstellar travel and several videos. There is also an acoustic environment that we are invited to activate. The seismic vibrations echo inside our bodies.

Scrolling over a video of a rotating mineral, a poem suggests:

“Alliances of friendship outlast and overcome

any force of social or environmental trauma.

First we must find each other.

We must cohere.

In alliance, we move together.

We mineralize.”

In the main gallery Water Portraits, Carolina Caycedo’s huge prints on canvas, hang from ceiling to floor surrounding us with giant kaledeiscope-like images of rushing river waters. Some evoke giant vaginal labia.

Caycedo has worked for twelve years on “Be Dammed,” a project that looks at the impact of dams in Colombia, specifically on the Yuma River, also known as the Magdalena River, where no fewer than nineteen corporate dams are planned.  The artist spent months speaking with local indigenous peoples (she has her own roots in the area) about their lives before and after the dams.  

Her film A Gente Rio/We River underscores both the large scale corporate destruction of lives on the river and intimate details of survival such as a hand holding tiny crumbs of gold sieved from the river.

Sin Sol, Forest Memory by micha cárdenas and Abraham Avnisan immerses us in a forest landscape on three walls 

Hanging in the center of the gallery ipads offer a conversation between Aura, a virtual reality ancestor from the future and a present person who recites poems about the impact of living in a smoke filled landscape: “No trees, no horizons all gray. People like me need to stay inside. It’s been weeks.;” “I fear the future of a world on fire, not just smoke but fire might mean more hate.” I found these poems almost desperately sad especially now that we have had the season of wild fires in Australia, it is all the more believable.

Susanne Winterling’s Glistening Troubles animates resin replicas of bioluminescent single cell organisms on individual monitors. We feel we are underwater with them in a fragile environment that periodically vanishes as the screens go blank.  An interview with a fisherman/guide suggests that historically these glowing creatures were seen as magical because they made the water glow, today they are valued for healing properties. Dependent on salt water, they respond to movement both human and natural. Too much fresh water stimulates them to retreat into the depths.  Winterling emphasizes communication among these organisms and the natural environment, as well as our ability to disrupt or poison them with toxins.

Finally, Acoustic Ocean by the internationally renowned ecological artist, Ursula Biemann, connects us to deep sea sounds. Ironically first heard as a result of a military project, the sonar communications again refer to interspecies communication, particularly whales. Sofia Jannok, singer, environmental activist, and indigenous Sami speaks of the impact of changing climates on her community. She then insets listening devices into the sea of a desolate arctic landscape and listens to the sounds of the deep Arctic sea.

“Between Bodies” demanded time to embrace these alternative ways of experiencing the natural world, but it also offered possibilities for a future beyond confrontation and aggression. Taking another deep breath of Hormonal Fog on the way out reinforced that. ( written for Sculpture magazine, but never published so here it is free for nothing)

Added March 2020: We especially need that hormonal fog with our current global crises, hugely aggravated in the US by incompetence at the top ( some people say a deliberate strategy to wipe out the low income wage earners and replace them with robots and digital technology) . Viruses are not directly addressed in these works, but the interconnections of technology, human and nature is profoundly important to us at this moment. These artists are offering a new way to think about that.