Certain Intimacies Revealed
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Tony Luensman. Angel Swing - A.M., 2009. Lithograph on Arches paper,30x22in, Ed. of 13. Photo Courtesy of Clay Street Press.
Tony Luensman. Angel Swing - A.M., 2009. Lithograph on Arches paper,30x22in, Ed. of 13. Photo Courtesy of Clay Street Press.
Despite (or perhaps because of) coming of age alongside the Internet and a new genre of cyber dystopian films about our growing dependency on machines and the dark implications of technological evolution, I've been unable to shake skepticism about the aesthetics surrounding recycled electronics in art. Stripped down, media and technology employed in art makes perfect conceptual sense: as art reflects wisely on its own present, it is necessary to take the changing landscape of society into account. Twittering, blackberries, global positioning systems and ongoing developments for artificial intelligence used in anything from space missions to toys show us a world much altered from a century ago or even a decade ago. But often the material electronic art is built from seems to be its one-dimensional meaning: the novelty of art made out of electronics. But in Tony Luensman's recent exhibition Abrade at Clay Street Press in Over-the Rhine (October 30 - December 12), deconstructed electronics, white neon lights and dramatic installations were perfectly integrated into a display of recent prints made with the Press.
The cohesive and varied collection demonstrated what it looks like for a gentle, informed spirit to work at making a life—corporeal as well as spiritual—during such an advanced technological age. Whether working with the simplest of materials like paper, or else a mélange of noise-making equipment, lighting and scrims, Luensman drew the entire installation to a calm: a simple theater of meditation, dreams and puns.
Tony Luensman's art practice itself moves back and forth from East to West. He has frequented Taiwan throughout his career, while staying based in the U.S., and that globe trotting perspective builds an informed, culturally multi-faceted personality into the work.
Tony Luensman. Chain Rain I, 2009. Embossing on Rives BFK paper, 30x22in. Edition of 10. Photo Courtesy of Clay Street Press.
At the start of the exhibition, two blind embossings titled Chain Rain I and Chain Rain II anchor the body of work with elemental purity. A 'blind embossing' is one in which no inks or foils are used on the paper, rather, the imagery in the print is created by impressing texture onto the paper. Several strands of ball chain run from top to bottom of both sheets. Both are like whispers. I was also reminded of the quiet melancholy and poetic meaning that Felix Gonzales-Torres applied to the glimmering bead curtains that would sometimes appear in his exhibitions. Always basically untitled, these curtains would often have subtitles that read alchemically or fundamentally, such as Untitled (Water) or Untitled (Golden). As with Gonzales-Torres, the impressions Luensman printed might have been curtains equally at home in temples or in dance clubs. The duality of the spiritual and the sensual repeats throughout Luensman's exhibition in sly, subtle utilities.
The curtain is more explicitly imagined in Chain Curtain, a lithograph that shared the far wall of the gallery with two other lithographs that show clear representations of blinds and shades, images of window coverings printed in a cream ink just darker than the paper itself. In Chain Curtain, the beaded lines are printed in a rusty red as well as a soft silvery gray. Their colorations more so than their actual form remind me of Buddhist prayer beads, an association that is not absurd, seen within this meditative exhibition.
Along with these various presentations of curtains, Luensman recently presented another installation in Concert:Nova's December 7th performance Playing With Light. Luensman was invited by the multi-media musical ensemble to create a visually sensual experience to accompany the evening of music recitals. His piece served as the backdrop for the performance of a work by Toru Takemitsu. It involved a deconstructed chandelier, whose crystals were strung into vertical lines, across which video footage of pattering rain was projected. The cut crystals shimmered and moved, holding the light and activity of the video-rain (and could have borrowed Gonzales-Torres' Untitled (Water) title).
Photo of setup of Concert:Nova collaboration. Near to far (Jeff Luft, Patrick Schleker, Brady Harrison, percussionists). Photo: David Cohen.
The darkened room in which the musicians played made this curtain of glass and rainwater quite transcendent, a contemporary art Iconostasis. In Orthodox churches, the Iconostasis is a partition covered in icons and decorations that separates the nave from the chancel. During church rituals, the chancel represents Heaven, separated from the earthly space the congregation occupies. Compared to the distilled, minimal imagery in Luensman's prints at Clay Street, this installation was positively Baroque. (note: this is not the first time I have found reference to chandeliers in Tony Luensman's work. The use of this object in different forms throughout his career would be worth another essay for investigation.)
And yet, back in the Clay Street exhibition, the partition, the metaphorical 'veil' took even more forms, such as the sound sculpture suspended in the front gallery. I initially took for granted the complex experience I would have with Dream Machine, a tapestry of small speakers hanging freely from the ceiling. At intervals, the sound effects that the object would elicit switched from airy meditation music to nature noises. A 'Dream Machine' is a common name for electronic sound effect boxes that are meant to help individuals fall asleep with calming white noise. This is not the last time in the exhibition that Luensman's semantic play is the initial entryway to the artist's intended meanings. The content of this sound sculpture struck me at more than one level. While at first suggesting the kind of meditative sounds one might encounter in a Buddhist temple, the noises are only that: suggestive but not the same as. Really, they resemble compilation CDs sold at nature stores in shopping malls. Luensman juggles the content of Zen philosophy as an epistemology unto itself and also the source material it has become for consumer products.
Installation view of Tony Luensman's exhibition 'Abrade' at Clay Street Press, 2009. Photo Courtesy of Clay Street Press.
There are plenty of places expressing a submerged wit, humor and skepticism throughout the show. A small, painterly object almost hidden in a corner is entitled Stud Finder I, and the queered double meaning of the phrase is the start of a lighthearted thread of suggestive references to homosexuality, loneliness and the aches of conflicts in one's personal identity. There is a deadpan humor in the series of blind embossings that comprise Rubber Lines. Words run together into blocks of letters that have been embossed from what appear to be classic children's blocks with letters carved in bas relief on each side. The lowest line of text reads: 'CANDYASSFRAMEOFMIND,' putting a fine point on the complexities of sexual identity, name-calling and the problems of redeeming slang to be used proudly in society.
Installation view of Tony Luensman's exhibition 'Abrade' at Clay Street Press, 2009. Photo Courtesy of Clay Street Press.
Luensman never offers a simple experience with one-liner interpretations. Visual remarks that may seem spiritual are also often sexual in later readings. His humor is light and dark, mingled throughout his aesthetics that are reductive, distilled, minimal. I assume that his inspirations are personal, social and universal depending on which moment we are considering in the exhibition. While all of the works draw attention to their physical properties (to be sure, these prints are conceived by a sculptor), the repeated use of the curtain image refers to an additional space beyond the partition. That space may be personal and sexual, or spiritual and sacred (I believe all of these intimacies are raised as topics in Luensman's show). There was never a moment of interruption in the elegance of this quiet, haunting exhibition of prints and installations. Luensman dares to create something that defies summary or simple explanation. Nonetheless, one leaves feeling more awake and wide eyed, like yoga, discotheque and witty limericks combined.
