9.4.1: Installation Art

Introduction

Installation art is a relatively new genre for the millennium defined as large-scale constructions, usually mixed media, and installed for a specified period. The artwork usually fills the space, and viewers must walk through the exhibit, often becoming part of the installation. However, some installations might be fragile or installed along a wall. A sculpture is generally one piece of art displayed in separate or individual spaces. An installation is a more unified experience, engaging the viewer in most of the environment. Technology has also contributed to the ability of artists to create large installations involving LEDs, computerized movement, unusual formations, and even environmentally supported projects. One attribute of installation art is its immersive properties, how the art appears depending on the viewer's position. The works are also large in scale and site-specific, made to fit into the gallery and museum. or outdoor space. Generally, they are placed in unique surroundings to compliment the artwork.

Ai Weiwei 

Ai Weiwei (1957-) was born in China; his father was a poet. The family was sentenced to a labor camp when Ai was one, then sixteen years in exile in far northern China. After Mao Zedong's death, the Cultural Revolution ended, and the family moved back to Beijing, where Ai studied animation. He moved to the United States for twelve years to learn English and art. He returned to China when his father's health failed in 1993 and set up his studio. Ai began openly criticizing the Chinese government's human rights issues, corruption, and lack of democracy. Most of his work follows his political beliefs and feelings about the social problems in China, leading to harassment by the government and occasional house arrest. In 2011, Ai was jailed for three months; however, the government kept his passport when he was released, and he could not travel. When his passport was returned in 2015, he moved to Europe. Ai Weiwei uses his art as dissident art, protesting human abuses in China by the government. His work is international and brings his messages to the world. He used simple or everyday objects or materials to create his installation as he believed they were meaningful to people.

Sunflower Seeds (12.2.1, 12.2.2) is composed of 100 million small seeds stacked evenly on the floor. Each seed appears the same; however, every seed is unique. The life-sized seeds are made by hand from porcelain, sculpted, and painted. The seeds were produced in small workshops in the city of Jingdezhen, known for producing porcelain since 1004 CE and originally produced the Imperial porcelain for the royal palaces. Revolutionary types of kilns and access to deposits of petuntse, the clay needed for porcelain, were part of the city's success in becoming the primary Chinese porcelain site, even today. Ai Weiwei used porcelain sunflower seeds to examine the idea of 'Made in China' and its position in the global economy. He created each seed piled in the installation to represent the relationship between an individual and the masses. He posed the question: "What does it mean to be an individual in today's society? Are we insignificant or powerless unless we act together? What do our increasing desires, materialism, and number mean for society, the environment, and the future?" [1]

Figure \(\PageIndex{1}\): Sunflower Seeds (Анна Астахова, CC BY-SA 3.0)

Figure \(\PageIndex{2}\): Sunflower Seeds closeup (Dominic's pics, CC BY 2.0 )

Ai Weiwei's installations reflect his commentary on society, politics, and economics in contemporary China, and he uses irony to create his installations. World Map (12.2.3) is an example of simple, basic objects to make a simple visual expression. The map comprises thousands of fine, thin cotton cloth layers (12.2.4). Making, cutting, stacking, and installing the cloth was exceptionally time-consuming and laborious. The map demonstrates China's position in the world as a place of cheap labor, especially in the clothing industry. Ai stated, "China is blindly producing for the demands of the market… My work very much relates to this blind production of things. I'm part of it, which is a bit of a nonsense." [2] He also uses other materials to make maps of China in protest, including 1,800 milk tins to protest China's tainted milk, making infants sick.

Figure \(\PageIndex{3}\): World Map (2006-09, cotton and wooden base, 120 x 800 x 400 cm) (Vilseskogen, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Figure \(\PageIndex{4}\): World Map closeup (Vilseskogen, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

In the installation, Moon Chest (12.2.5, 12.2.6), Ai made 81 chests of wood, each with four circles cut in the upper and lower panels on both sides. The openings vary on each chest, and the moon's phases are visible when the chests are carefully aligned (x.x). He wanted to create an installation of simplistic materials and construction while having a sense of functionality. The chests were made from Huali wood, a common material for Chinese furniture, and were constructed without any joining materials, the methods used for ancient furniture. The exhibition was one of the few of Ai's installations without a direct political message, emphasizing artistic beauty. Ai said, "In the 1980s, I saw many works by Donald Judd and Carl Andre, many minimalist sculptures. Moon Chest is a work in which I try to put together art and minimalist architecture, installation, and drawing to create an object that discusses the relations between functionality and the so-called highbrow art."[3]

Figure \(\PageIndex{5}\): Moon Chest (2008, Huanghuali wood, 320 x 160 x 80 cm)  (maurizio.mwg, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)

Figure \(\PageIndex{6}\): Moon Chest Closeup (Edna Winti, CC BY 2.0.)

Ai Weiwei created different bicycle installations to acknowledge China's past reliance on bicycles, the mass-produced transportation becoming obsolete to the car culture. Forever (12.2.7) is one of the installations. Bicycles can be installed in multiple configurations, representing the universal use of the bicycles and the beauty found in the object. However, the chain and pedal have been removed from each unit, and they are now obsolete and unusable. However, the bicycles are arranged in a circle, giving the feeling of motion—the "forever" of the title belying the actuality. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{7}\): Forever (2003, forty-two bicycles) (Jackman Chiu, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)

Forever Bicycles by Al Weiwei

See Ai Weiwei's spectacular Forever Bicycles installation consisting of 3,144 bikes, come together on Toronto's Nathan Phillips Square over the course of two and a half weeks. The build began on September 19, 2013 and finished on October 4, 2013—just in time for the 8th annual Scotiabank Nuit Blanche. The open-air installation is available for viewing 24hrs a day until October 27, 2013.

 

Ai Wei Wei's accumulations and use of single objects are used again in installations with stools. Both installations (Stool Installation 1 (12.2.8) and Stool Installation 2 (12.2.9) demonstrate how he combined small and large sets of stools. The three-legged wooden stool was typical in China and is now an antiquated object in today's Chinese society. Previously, the stools were carefully carved and passed down through the generations, an expression of centuries-old aesthetics. Today, stools are plastic or aluminum in China, modern and mass-produced objects that are disposable in today's society. A common symbol of the importance of and creativity of the individual as opposed to the massive state.

Figure \(\PageIndex{8}\): Stool installation 1, (FaceMePLS, CC BY 2.0)

Figure \(\PageIndex{9}\): Figure \(\PageIndex{9}\): Stool installation 2, (micmol, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Yayoi Kusama

Yayoi Kusama (1929-) was born in Japan, where her parents owned a nursery for plants and seeds. Kusama started drawing pumpkins from the time she was a child. She said she drew from hallucinations she observed, a concept followed throughout her life. Kusama's childhood was traumatic; her mother did not support her art and was abusive. Her father had continual extramarital affairs, which her mother made Kusama follow him and spy, reporting back. By the time Kusama was ten, her hallucinations had included flashing lights and fields of dots she believed engulfed her. She studied traditional Japanese Nihonga style, finding it unsatisfactory, and studied Western avant-garde. After success in Japan, at twenty-seven, she went to the United States from 1957 to 1972, believing Japan was too disparaging of women and too feudalistic.

In the United States, Kusama developed her reflective mirror rooms, complex installations with mirrors, colored balls, and lights. She worked successfully with other artists in New York City, however financial success eluded her. During this period, Kusama became heavily involved with the anti-Viet Nam war protesters, often doing unusual things to draw attention to her demonstrations, including painting polka dots on nude protesters. When Kusama returned to Japan in 1973, mentally ill and suicidal, she checked herself into a hospital. Since that period, she has resided in the psychiatric hospital, creating her art in a nearby studio.

Dots have become Kusama's obsession on all her artwork and installations, dots covering everything in repetitive patterns. Kusama said, "A polka-dot has the form of the sun which is a symbol of the energy of the whole world and our living life, and the form of the moon which is calm. Round soft, colourful, senseless and unknowing. Polka-dots can't stay alone; like the communicative life of people, two or three and more polka-dots become movement. ...Polka-dots are a way to infinity."[3] Most of her work is based on the repetitive use of dots, beloved pumpkins, and mirrors in her installations. Dots Obsession (8.2.9) is like Kusama's hallucinations in childhood, believing her space was covered in patterns. In this installation, she used red for the base color and the highly contrasting white dots. The room was enclosed with mirrors, multiple lights, and large balloon-like structures, giving the viewers an immersive involvement. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{9}\): Dots Obsession (2011, red paint, white dots, giant balloons, mirrors) by hmboo Electrician and Adventurer, CC BY-ND 2.0

Repetitive Vision (8.2.10) creates a startling strange, and disorienting environment. The black mirrored walls and ceiling reflect the mannequins covered in red dots. The mirrors present views of the front, back, and sides of the mannequins confusing the viewer, impossible to know the limits of the room or numbers of mannequins. The red dots on the floor, mannequins, and reflections add to the confusion of the room's boundaries. Kusama said, "A mirror is a device which obliterates everything, including myself and others in the light of another world or a gallant apparatus which creates nothingness."[4]

Figure \(\PageIndex{10}\): Repetitive Vision (1996, adhesive dots, formica, mirrors, mannequins) by watz, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Late in her career, Kusama's infinity rooms expanded and included her trademark dots and pumpkins. The mirrored and lighted ceiling and walls infinitely reflect the dotted pumpkins in All the Eternal Love I Have for the Pumpkins (8.2.11). The illusion of the installation stretched the concept of ad infinitum. Kusama has placed rows of yellow pumpkins painted with strips of black dots, making the room's depth impossible to judge. The space reflects Kusama's obsessive-compulsive disorder for the repetition of polka dots enclosing the person in the room, the pattern wrapping around and surrounding the viewer.  

Figure \(\PageIndex{11}\): All the Eternal Love I Have for the Pumpkins (2016, wood, mirror, plastic, acrylic, LED) by Infomastern, CC BY-SA 2.0

In Japan, pumpkins are known as kabocha; an image Kusama spent hours drawing as a child. Pumpkins represented stability and comfort and were attractive in color and shape. By the late 1970s, she started to include pumpkins in some of her work, covering them with dots and incorporating them into the themes of her mirrored rooms. Pumpkins became major subjects by the new millennium, and Kusama made enormous sculptures. The Red Pumpkin (8.2.12) and the Orange Pumpkin (8.2.13) were made from fiberglass for installation on Naoshima Island in Japan. The oversized red pumpkin sits on the edge of a protected inlet. The sculpture is hollow inside, made from fiberglass, and covered with large black dots. The orange pumpkin with a different set of black vertical dots was installed on the end of a pier adjacent to the water. The pumpkin was dislodged when a typhoon swept the island in 2021, and waves took it into the sea. The sculpture cracked but was recovered and will be repaired. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{12}\): Red Pumpkin (1994, reinforced fiberglass, 3.9 meters high x 7 meters wide) by Yohei Yamashita,  CC BY 2.0

 

Figure \(\PageIndex{13}\): Orange Pumpkin (1994, reinforced fiberglass, 1.8 meters high x 2.4 meters wide) by Yohei Yamashita,  CC BY 2.0

Kusama also made immense pumpkins from stainless steel (8.2.14, 8.2.15). The metal is shiny and reflects light and images like her mirror rooms. The dots on the pumpkins were made with long-lasting urethane paint.

Figure \(\PageIndex{14}\): Pumpkin (2010, stainless steel, urethane paint, 220 cm high x 220 cm diameter) by See-ming Lee (SML),  CC BY-NC 2.0

 

Figure \(\PageIndex{15}\): Pumpkin (2015, stainless steel, urethane paint, 173.7 x 182.2 x 167.6 cm) by art_inthecity, CC BY 2.0ed with Polka Dots

The nine decades of artist Yayoi Kusama's life have taken her from rural Japan to the New York art scene to contemporary Tokyo, in a career in which she has continuously innovated and re-invented her style. Well-known for her repeating dot patterns, her art encompasses an astonishing variety of media, including painting, drawing, sculpture, film, performance, and immersive installation. It ranges from works on paper featuring intense semi-abstract imagery to soft sculpture known as 'Accumulations' to her 'Infinity Net' paintings, made up of carefully repeated arcs of paint built up into large patterns.

Do Ho Suh

Do Ho Suh (1962-) was born in Korea, the son of a famous artist who used traditional paintings in ink to create more abstract concepts. Originally, Suh wanted to be a marine biologist, failing to achieve the grades. He went to art school in Korea and earned a master's degree in art based on traditional Korean painting. Suh relocated to the United States in 1991, freeing himself from his father's influence and traditional art and studying at the Rhode Island School of Design. Here, he was interested in how space was used and how people interacted in different cultures. Suh explicitly studied houses' psychological and physical dimensions and the architectural structures.  

Suh's major project was Home Within Home (8.2.16), a life-sized reconstruction of an actual home where he once lived. Suh also constructed a replica of his home in Korea, contrasting style and size inside the house. He used translucent fabrics to construct the houses, interior rooms, and different large appliances. He also displays hallways, doors, or specific rooms from various places he lived in other installation parts. Suh used a 2-D scanning machine to ensure accurate and exact specifications. Using the defined dimensions and outlines, Suh used a traditional Korean hand sewing method to make every part of the building or objects, adding precise details found in the actual item. The oversized home is designed for the viewer to approach the building and see through the walls before entering the door and walking through the spaces. The rooms in the building create a dreamlike environment; shelves, doors, fixtures, windows, stairs, or appliances are viewable while still looking through to other spaces. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{16}\): Home Within Home (2013, fabric, 12 meters high x 15 meters wide) by 準建築人手札網站 Forgemind ArchiMedia,  CC BY 2.0

The bathtub (8.2.17) and the toilet (8.2.18) are created in exact sizes and placed in the bathroom. Suh used steel wire to frame the bathtub and toilet to hold the fabric properly. For the larger structures, he used stainless steel armature.

Figure \(\PageIndex{17}\): Bathtub (2013, fabric, stainless steel wire, LED, 34 x 150.1 x 76.5 cm) by 準建築人手札網站 Forgemind ArchiMedia,  CC BY 2.0

 

Figure \(\PageIndex{18}\): Toilet (2013, fabric stainless steel wire, LED, 34 x 150.1 x 76.5 cm) by 準建築人手札網站 Forgemind ArchiMedia, CC BY 2.0

Suh was raised in South Korea, the influence of North Korea and the ever-present threat in the lives of those on the Korean peninsula. The two countries were a display of conflicting social and political societies. The images of North Korean soldiers in precise and continued marching manifested in the concept of the control and collectivism of the state over the thoughts and activities of the individual. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{19}\): Cause and Effect (2007, acrylic resin, aluminum disc, stainless steel frame and cable, monofilament, 120 x 295 cm) by foshie, CC BY 2.0

The sculpture Cause and Effect (8.2.19) is made of 1,200 naked resin figures cast in different colors. Each small figure sits on the figure below it, portraying the relationship between the individual inside the collective or the concept of the individual supporting the larger society.

Figure \(\PageIndex{20}\): Cause and Effect closeup, by foshie,  CC BY 2.0 

El Anatsui

El Anatsui (1944 -) was born in Ghana, where his uncle raised him. As a child, he drew on a chalkboard and later trained at the University of Science and Technology in Ghana. His early work was based on traditional wood carving and sculpture and teaching at the University of Nigeria. His first entry into the international art world was in Harlem, New York, in 1990 when he entered a show about contemporary African artists. Anatsui found his art medium in the streets of the local towns, discarded liquor bottle caps. After collecting thousands of metal seals from the bottles and bottle caps, he must smooth and flatten them to be more malleable and workable. For his sculptures, he uses copper wire to attach the pieces. His work combines the concepts of traditional African imagery and the ideas of abstraction. Anatsui's work is moveable and easy to configure in different ways. His work does not have a fixed form, and when he sends a sculpture to an institution, he does not send any instructions, allowing them to decide how to hang and drape his work. Anatsui said, "I am interested in textile because it is always in motion. Anytime you touch something, there is bound to be a change. The idea of a sheet that you can shape or reshape. It can be on the floor; it can be up on the ceiling; it can be up on the wall, all that fluidity is behind the concept."[5]

Anatsui noticed walls worldwide and how they close space and stop the eye from traveling further. He wanted to create a wall the viewer can see, though fluid and moveable. The term Gli meant will, however with a different inflection, the word might mean story or even disrupt. Gli (Wall) (8.2.21) is an oversized installation hung from the ceiling representing a wall. However, it is a transparent wall, most of the metal pieces formed into circles, creating visibility through each small opening. Anatsui connected thousands of bottle caps and collars with thin copper wire. The reflective metal shimmers, giving the appearance of curtains moving in the breeze instead of rigid metal.

Figure \(\PageIndex{21}\): Gli (Wall) (2010, aluminum and copper wire) by gsz,  CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

AG+BA (8.2.22) is an example of Anatsui's selection and application of color. Each of the bottle tops was branded by different companies who bottled the liquor. Anatsui collected millions of the tops and sorted them by color in his compositions. In part of the sculpture, the red pieces were interspersed with gold and some black; the other portion is formed with gold and small amounts of gold and red. The bottle tops are relatively soft and easy to flatten. Part of this sculpture is hanging and draped, the pieces wired together; the sizeable golden section does not drape and is welded into a massive block. Anatsui started using bottle tops when he found three bags of tops. The liquor bottles could be recycled; however, no one recycled aluminum. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{22}\): AG+BA (2014, aluminium (liquor bottle caps), copper wire, nylon string) by FaceMePLS, CC BY 2.0

Drifting Continents (8.2.23) depicts a fragmented map of the world where the continents collapse into each other. The work displays the interconnectivity of the regions and the creation of restrictive, poorly defined borders. Wealth and gold flowed out of Africa for centuries causing economic disorder today. In the sculpture, the flattened gold tops flow down the walls, beautifully reflective and demonstrating the beauty of gold and why it is coveted. The discarded refuse of the bottle caps recreating the richness of piles of gold only the value is only in the art, not the materials.

Figure \(\PageIndex{23}\): Drifting Continents (2009, aluminum, copper wire, 151 x 410 cm overall) by Eva Blue,  CC BY 2.0

Subodh Gupta

Subodh Gupta (1964-) was born in India; his father died when Gupta was young. He was sent to live with an uncle on a remote farm, where children went to school without shoes or roads. He attended the College of Arts & Crafts in Patna, a place without even a library. When he graduated in 1988, Gupta moved to Delhi, starting his career as an artist. He always loved steel and metal, from the dull brass plates the family used for eating to the replacement stainless steel plates. Gupta started using the everyday kitchen utensils used at home, a material he uses. Line of Control (8.2.24) is a sculpture based on the mushroom clouds developed from atomic bombs and represents the dismaying deployment of nuclear war. Nuclear weapons are always an issue between Pakistan and India and the potential of their use in war. The sculpture also represents geopolitical borders, limitations, disputed territories globally, and potential nuclear warfare potential. The work was constructed with twenty-six tons of stainless-steel pans, thalis, bowls, milk pails, tiffin boxes, and various utensils. Each element was welded together to assemble the sculpture.

Figure \(\PageIndex{24}\): Line of Control (2008, stainless steel utensils, 10.9 x 10.9 meters, 26 tons) CC BY 2.0 

Gupta has always been interested in the migration or displacement in India, even why they travel to other places, carefully noting the changes in Indian society. The Silk Route (8.2.25) comprises stacks of an abundant supply of pots, bowls, and plates carefully arranged on a giant conveyer belt. He presents the growth of the middle class and its constant need for more. The reference to the old silk road defines the influence and threat of globalization changing local communities and the spread of consumerism. The towers of tiffin pots (stackable containers) move along the installation much like India's rapid pace of change. The tiffin pots were a standard method of carrying food when Gupta was a child, the objects now having a different meaning. Gupta said, "My work is about where I came from, but at the same time, the expansion of the art world means that to a certain extent, everything is shrinking together, and you have to be aware of international discourses in your work."[6]

Figure \(\PageIndex{25}\): The Silk Route (2007, stainless steel kitchen utensils) by Glen Bowman, CC BY-SA 2.0

Gupta created the magnificent, stainless-steel banyan tree stating, "I'd like this sculpture to be a place where families gather and get photographed."[7] The structure has become a place for people to sit and pose and ponder the illusion of the sculpture. The tree, Specimen No. 108 (8.2.26), was exceptionally complex to construct. Gupta first made the metal trunk with the branches before the utensils were individually welded to the tree. The tree is shiny with the beauty of an actual tree, elegant and graceful, combined with the ubiquity of common household elements hanging like fruit. The banyan tree is incorporated into Indian culture as sacred and a center of worship; however, the number 108 is meaningful in multiple religions. The imposing tree is a symbol for other meanings. The mystical formation of the tree is further enhanced by the sun bouncing off the steel and the utensils softly moving in the breeze. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{26}\): Specimen No. 108 (2014, stainless steel utensils) by gauravmishr,  CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Jean Shin

Jean Shin (1971-) was born in Korea, where her parents were professors. When she was six years old, they moved to the United States. Shin graduated with a BFA from Pratt Institute and an MS in History. Her artwork is made from cast-off materials she collects and forms into installations. She is not particular in her accumulations, including one sock or a broken ceramic, discarded lottery tickets, and even old pill bottles. Shin creates large-scale sculptures and needs large numbers of any one element. She believes the object in an installation may all look the same until closer observation reveals individuality and variety. Shin wants the viewer to continually shift between the group and the individuals within the group, some things more intimate and others appearing excessive.

Huddled Masses (8.2.27) connects the idea of the environmental waste of technology and the desire from society for more and more technological products. The sculpture is made of old cell phones, obsolete by the following year's model. Meters of old, no longer viable computer cables encircle the structure capturing the phones into piles of meaninglessness. The toxic waste now sits, planned obsolescence forcing the new technology to the detriment of the environment from the masses of unusable waste. Large forms jut out of the middle like the ancient rocks of Chinese art, the purity of natural, long-lasting stones of the past, now covered by today's pollution. Oddly, the sounds on the phones made to carry the noise and discourse of society are now silent in their obsolesce. The most significant part of the sculpture is 2.28 meters tall. Shin collected over 3,000 different styles of phones, some as long as twenty years ago, for the sculpture.

Figure \(\PageIndex{27}\): Huddled Masses (2020, cellphones and computer cables) by Asian Art Museum,  CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Chance City (8.2.28) was constructed from thousands of losing scratch-and-win lottery tickets, discarded as useless. People purchase them hoping to make money; the losing tickets reveal the unfulfilled dream someone had when they bought the ticket. The worthless tickets are the blocks Shin uses for her colorful houses of cards; it too a temporary structure full of chance and optimism. She does not use any glue when erecting the house of cards, only balancing one on top of another. Although the sculpture looks fragile, gravity and friction hold the cards in place. Shin believes, "Picking up your life and moving to the city and giving I all you can, your dreams may change-transform. But somehow, I think all of us retain that memory of something that they really wanted to do, and against all odds, are able to succeed."[8] The ticket may not bring instant riches, but our odds of success are achievable.

Figure \(\PageIndex{28}\): Chance City (2001, raffle tickets) by nicknormal,  CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

 

Figure \(\PageIndex{29}\): Chance City closeup, by nicknormal, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Liu Wei

Liu Wei (1972-) is from China and graduated from the China Academy of Art. At first, he created realistic paintings before working on installations. He moved to Beijing and was associated with other artists who produced exhibitions protesting the government. Their video, photography, and performances contained pictures of corpses, cadavers, or other gross and visceral images. Their concept was to repel Western audiences, revealing their resentment of Western powers. However, as China expanded its trade globally, the artists opened to Western investors. Since the new millennium, Liu has been creating models of cityscapes using unusual materials. The massive construction of cities in China inspired him to create installations based on the continual change, decay, and construction found daily in cities. Today, Liu creates his images digitally before assembling an installation, continuing to change them over time.

Liu's installation Love it! Bite it! is made from the unusual material of dog chews. He tried to create buildings from across Western history. The work was exceptionally detailed, with ornate columns, domes, towers, and cornices. However, most of them resembled ruins of the dystopia of fallen empires. After seeing his dog gnaw on its chew, Liu made the construction from dog chews as it was crumbled with saliva and dirt. He observed the dog's lust for food like a human's hunger for power, the city the representative of that power. Love it! Bite it! (12.2.27) displays the falling coliseum, a church, and other collapsing buildings. Love it! Bite it! (12.2.28) is part of the United States Capitol building exhibit showing the buildings eroded by greed and time.

Figure \(\PageIndex{27}\): Love it! Bite it! (2013, edible dog chews, dimensions vary) (mr.push, CC BY-NC 2.0)

Figure \(\PageIndex{28}\): Love it! Bite it! (2013, edible dog chews, dimensions vary) (mr.push, CC BY-NC 2.0)

In Library II-II (12.2.429), Liu constructed four sections displaying another dystopian city with seemingly familiar buildings, although anonymous. Some buildings are leaning at ninety degrees; a few resemble old New York skyscrapers. All the buildings were made and sculpted with books. Liu said, "I was drawn to books at first because of the uniform density; the morphology of books seems to give them the ability to replace all other architectural and urban features; books represent a real world and expand wantonly." [8] Liu used iron and hardware for the basic frame covered by wood to assemble the books into buildings.

Figure \(\PageIndex{29}\): Library II-I (I2013, books, wood, iron, hardware, 290 x 140 x 170 cm) (nicknormal, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0)

Maya Lin

Maya Lin (born 1959) was born in Ohio after her parents emigrated from China. Both of her parents were professors at Ohio University. In high school, Lin studied bronze casting methods at a nearby university. After high school, she attended Yale University and earned bachelor's and master's degrees. Lin was always interested in the environment, respecting nature, and balancing the man-made and the natural world. The video discusses Lin's projects.

Interactive Element: Maya Lin

In this milestone video, we feature visual artist/designer Maya Lin, who has a long history with the NEA, starting with her winning the public design competition for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, which the NEA administered. She has also received an NEA Visual Arts Fellowship and the National Medal of Arts, as well as having her exhibitions and projects supported by the agency, including the most significant and longest project she has undertaken, the Confluence Project in Northwest U.S.

In this milestone video, we feature visual artist/designer Maya Lin, who has a long history with the NEA, starting with her winning the public design competition for the Vietnam Veterans Memorial, which the NEA administered. She has also received an NEA Visual Arts Fellowship and the National Medal of Arts, as well as having her exhibitions and projects supported by the agency, including the most significant and most prolonged project she has undertaken, the Confluence Project in Northwest U.S.

Lin was a university student studying architecture when she submitted her design for a nationwide competition for concepts of a new memorial to Vietnam veterans. Her design was very unusual and unlike the general tradition of memorial tributes. She proposed to build a V-shaped granite wall where the names of every soldier who was killed or still missing were inscribed on the wall. One end of the V-shape pointed towards the Washington Monument and the other towards the Lincoln Memorial, tying the design into existing structures. The black granite walls mirror each other as they slope below ground level with a long walkway in front of the polished, reflective wall (12.2.30). The new, controversial wall has become an accepted and essential tribute to the veterans of the contentious war, attended by many to visit a fallen soldier, lay flowers, or hang flags. The wall designed by Lin became a model for new and unusual memorials and sculptures. The names of the fallen (12.2.31) are inscribed on the highly polished wall as a man in uniform stands at attention. The man's reflection becomes part of the wall as though he was one with the other fallen names. The video describes her ideas for the Vietnam War Memorial.

Figure \(\PageIndex{30}\): Wall at the memorial (Timothy J Brown, CC BY-SA 3.0)

Figure \(\PageIndex{31}\): Reflection on the wall (Public Domain)

Maya Lin: Veterans Memorial

Maya Lin, Vietnam Veterans Memorial, 1982, granite, 2 acres within Constitution Gardens, (National Mall, Washington, D.C.)

 

Systematic Landscapes was a series of different installations Lin created to give viewers unusual sights of the earth and how it looks. She used today's technologies to build the installations and generate unique views of the physical world. Lin stated, "I would say that I'm no different than an eighteenth-century landscape painter, but I have more than my eyes to take a look at nature." [9] Lin created multiple diverse exhibits using different technologies. Water Line (12.2.32) (metal structure in background) appears as an outline in space. Using aluminum tubing, Lin positions the frames as they would trace mountains buried deep underwater. The strong lines forming the contours give the viewer an intimate view of a previously unseen mountain range. The sculpture hangs from the ceiling, presenting a vision of walking on the ocean floor and looking skyward. Lin brings ambiguity to the image, blurring the concepts of where the sky and water intersect and challenging the viewers' idea of distinct environments. In the foreground, Blue Lake Pass (12.2.32) represents mountains cut into segments. The viewer can walk through the exhibit, experiencing the different valleys and peaks, a feeling of walking under the earth's crust. Lin was always interested in the various geological forces creating other regions, and she incorporated unusual views of the earth.

Figure \(\PageIndex{32}\): Systematic Landscape series Water Line (aluminum tubing and paint, 2006, 579.1 x 914.4 x 1,059.2 cm) (CC BY-NC 2.0)

When Lin was growing up, she watched her father start an experimental glass studio. Her father even brought her a box of marbles; she thought they were like opening a water container. In her installation, Folding the Chesapeake (10.3.27), Lin used the same fiberglass material her father used in his experiments. Lin studied the Chesapeake Bay region and its changes over the decades. She used the water-colored marbles to recreate the area, installing the marbles up and down the walls and across the floor, appearing to be floating. Lin used 54,000 marbles to create the installation and bring the ecological importance of the entire waterway as a totality, a complete living system. The video described Lin's ideas when she made the installation. Installation art is based on multiple earlier movements, including the reuse and small installations of Dada or Performance Art creatively using and interpreting space, even conceptual art, and the focus on the ideas over the aesthetic.

Figure \(\PageIndex{33}\): Folding the Chesapeake (glass marble, 2015) (Ron Cogswell, CC BY-NC 2.0)

Maya Lin

Growing up in an artistic environment, Maya Lin sees the materials used in Folding the Chesapeake, installed at the Renwick Gallery, as a reflection of her childhood.

 

Tiffany Chung (1969-)

Tiffany Chung was born in Da Nang, Vietnam before her family migrated to the United States as war refugees. She received her bachelor's degree from California State University, Long Beach, and a master's from the University of California, Santa Barbara. After graduating, Chung returned to Vietnam to work in Ho Chi Minh City. Chung first became known for the cartographic maps she made into installations. The maps were based on her memories of migrating from Vietnam, and she extended those memories into the more significant experiences of all Southeast Asian people who fled their countries during wartime and afterward. Chung wove people's experiences onto maps with multimedia, sculptures, drawings, paintings, embroidered, and even video media to demonstrate and illustrate people's journeys. Chung incorporated the impacts of war, political, economic, and environmental destruction into the maps and travels of migrating people. 

Rivers and their effects on populations have been of particular interest to Chung since her father was imprisoned after his helicopter was shot down over North Vietnam, and he became a POW. A prisoner swap was set to occur on the river Thach Han. The bridges were bombed out, and when the North Vietnamese decided to cancel the swap of South Vietnamese and American prisoners, many prisoners went across the river anyway. Chung's mother stood on the south side of the river, waiting for Chung's father, who was never released. The wall between North and South Vietnam was invisible; however, it was very painful.[10]

As part of that memory, Chung created a series of maps based on not only rivers but also how traumatic events affected the surrounding populations. Some maps covered the earthquake in San Francisco and the Berlin Wall in Germany. Chung draws the maps, and the foundation stitches are embroidered with additional hand stitching. She also adds buttons and grommets. The positions and colors of the threads, buttons, and grommets have meaning. As part of her River Project, she documented different river systems in Asia. In this project, she made maps with two layers, vellum and paper. The map of the Mekong Delta (12.2.34) demonstrated the continual flooding of the land and how hydropower development and dams change the river's flow, aggravate people's poverty, disrupt spawning fish, and damage the agricultural soil. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{34}\): The River Project (micro-pigment ink, oil, vellum, paper, 2010) (veritatem, CC BY 2.0.)

Chung's installation, For the Living (12.2.35), is an immense world map constructed on a large grass mound. The map is centered on the migration routes of exiles from Southeast Asia who the Vietnam War displaced. Chung explores the stories of the refugee movements and how the pathways are part of the American story of assimilation and acceptance. A color-coded rope represents each line (12.2.36) and corresponds to how people moved across the globe. The yellow rope represented those transported by air, blue by boat, and orange by land, with the connecting points indicated with red dome caps. The maps noted people's routes from their homes to refugee camps and their resettlement countries. Refugees ended up all over the world, with large numbers in the United States and France, while others went to places where they knew someone, could get accepted by a government, or found some type of transportation. 

The monument is only temporary but was constructed by the Vietnam Veterans Memorial. Chung wanted to give life to each person displaced or forced to migrate. She noted that the Veteran Memorial commemorates the names of American soldiers who died in the war, and the memorial is 137 meters long. To build a memorial listing the names of dead Vietnamese, a nine-mile-long wall would be needed (and this does not include Laotians, Hmong, and Cambodians who died).[11]  

Chung said, "The Vietnamese experience is an anchor point and reminder of America being a second chance many people have risked their lives for."[12]

Figure \(\PageIndex{35}\): For the Living (mixed media earthwork, 2023, 50 x 60.0 meters)(Ron Cogswell, CC BY 2.0)

Figure \(\PageIndex{36}\): For the Living closeup (Elvert Barnes, CC BY-SA 2.0)

Beyond Granite: Pulling Together

In Summer 2023, Beyond Granite will present a dynamic new series of installations designed to create a more inclusive, equitable, and representative commemorative landscape on the National Mall. The Beyond Granite initiative is led by the Trust for the National Mall in partnership with the National Capital Planning Commission and the National Park Service, and is funded by the Mellon Foundation. The inaugural exhibition, Beyond Granite: Pulling Together, will feature installations from six leading contemporary artists that respond to a central question: What stories remain untold on the National Mall? 

 

After the war, the new communist government changed the structure of those living in the south with reeducation, population redistribution, new agricultural changes, and changing the rivers. Chung, her mother, and sister were forcibly relocated in 1978. A massive undertaking was to remove and modify the landscape, marshlands, and mangroves around the rivers and transform them into urban areas, eliminating memories and forcing new ideologies. Stored in a Jar: Monsoon, Drowning Fish, Color of Water, and the Floating World (12.2.37) was an installation Chung created to accommodate climate change. The floating town contained forty-three houseboats and seventy riverboats. "Chung proposed a floating village model combining vernacular architectural forms of farming and houseboat communities in Asia as a sustainable way of living with chronic floods instead of suggesting mobility adaptations. This work also draws on and critiques the modernist ethos of master planning, highlighting universal design principles that have existed for generations and underscoring that these ecological concerns and strategies for sustainability are neither a contemporary nor Western phenomenon."[13] Chung wanted the work to contradict the usual urban planning and focus on what is good for the environment, adapting to change, and what is suitable for the local population. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{37}\): Store in a jar: Monsoon, Drowning fish, Color of water and the floating world (2011, plexiglass, wood veneer, aluminum, paint, steel cables, foam, copper wire, etc., 600 x 300 cm) (Amasou Umasou, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

Tiffany Chung

Artist Tiffany Chung probes the legacies of the Vietnam War and its aftermath through maps, videos, and paintings that highlight the voices and stories of former Vietnamese refugees.

 

Haegue Yang (1971-)

Haegue Yang is from South Korea and received her bachelor's degree from Seoul National University and a master's degree from Stadelschule in Berlin. Yang lives in both Berlin and Seoul. Yang's father went to work in the Middle East, and her parents divorced when he returned. The turmoil in Korea and her family inspired her works to reflect historical events, human migration, and industrialization. Yang generally creates work for a specific site and the history or culture of the region. Yang creates multisensory installation environments from ordinary manufactured objects and everyday household items. Each installation combines contrasting disparate materials with elements like light bulbs juxtaposed with feather boas. She also incorporates knitting and weaving methods into her work using unusual materials. Yang generally makes her work site-specific and interweaves personal and local histories into the installation, frequently adding audio for an immersive effect. 

Yang believes "abstraction is not a…simplified way of thinking: it's a leap-a leap into a dimension that cannot otherwise be understood."[14]

Yang is known for her installation using Venetian blinds to convert large spaces with filtered light and segmented spaces, forcing the viewer to move to multiple viewing points. "Her light sculptures and signature Venetian blind installations are often metaphors for her life of willful isolation and her refusal to embody any single nationality in her work."[15] Lingering Nous (12.2.38) is a site-specific installation in Paris constructed in contrast to the linear structures of the museum complex itself. Each color is angled to reflect the color scheme of the museum's service apparatus, as seen in the ventilation, electrical, and other connective building facilities. The blind installation consists of 166 Venetian blinds hanging in the vast space of the three-story lobby. The iridescent green and pink blinds glow at different times based on the light streaming in. Each of the blinds is also hung askew—the installation moves between ornamental and abstraction. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{38}\): Lingering Nous (2016, aluminum Venetian blinds, aluminum hanging structure, powder coating) (dalbera, CC BY 2.0)

Yang was known for using utilitarian objects in a typical household and creating images with objects out of context. The work has a transitory feeling, with images ready to move at any time, reflecting geographical and personal displacement happening to people worldwide. Female Natives and Medicine Men (12.2.39) come together in an installation of structures that are both visual and auditory. Yang used drying racks draped and adorned with hanging materials, light bulbs, wire, and other household paraphernalia. Yarn and fabric instill color into the figure, with reflected light bulbs changing the movement of the whole structure. The objects are surreal as the bodies hung on chrome skeletons appear to glow. The inhuman structures form a community and appear ready to move at any time. In the image Close up 1 (12.2.40), the figure appears clothed in soft, fluffy, white fur, betraying the aggressive position of the stiff, brown wooden arms. It seems to wear a ceremonial headdress, and the lights are visible, conveying strength. Close-up 2 (12.2.41) is much softer and more closed. The lights hang inside the structure, surrounded and protected by large balls and draped material, much daintier than the adjacent figure.

Figure \(\PageIndex{39}\): Female Natives and Medicine Men (2010) (clothing rack, casters, light bulbs, cable, cord, plastic items, papier mâché, water color, varnish, metal rings, zip ties, yarn, wire, 180 x 99 x 103 cm ) (準建築人手札網站 Forgemind ArchiMedia, CC BY 2.0)

Figure \(\PageIndex{40}\): Female Natives and Medicine Men Close up one (準建築人手札網站 Forgemind ArchiMedia, CC BY 2.0)

Figure \(\PageIndex{41}\): Female Natives and Medicine Men Close up two (準建築人手札網站 Forgemind ArchiMedia, CC BY 2.0)

As part of Yang's show, Changing From From to From, the wallpaper for the installation, Non-Linear and Non-Periodic Dynamics (12.2.42), in the background, is based on the model of how chaotic weather behaves. The butterfly effect of the weather model is visible in the design, where the chaos theory of a small change causes incalculable and dramatic outcomes. The design incorporates water and weather patterns. The wallpaper wraps around the walls and is printed with digital color print on self-adhesive vinyl film. 

Yang stated, "Historical figures inhabit my head like creatures in a mystic landscape. They are my tools to carve this landscape, finally becoming mountain peaks and rivers in my idiosyncratic way."[16] 

The exhibition's second part includes Sonic Intermediates – Three Differential Equations (12.2.42), three sculptures in the foreground, that move and fill the air with ritualistic rattling and ringing of bells. The objects are moveable through space and bring the feeling of abstract humans or intermediaries for the human and spirit world. The steel frames are covered in mesh, bells, and twine, all waiting to come to life. Yang constructs the figures to have remnants of human or animal characteristics: a head, fuzzy brown fur, or moveable parts. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{42}\): Non-Linear and Non-Periodic Dynamics –in background (2020, ink, vinyl film) and Sonic Intermediates–Three Differential Equations - in foreground (2020, steel frame, mesh, handles, casters, red brass, copper, nickel, plated bells, rings, plastic twine, broom, zip ties, turbine vent, size variable) (SandwichCafe, CC BY 2.0)

Haehue Yang: Changing from to from

The exhibition title, drawn from a poem by Chinese-British conceptual artist Li Yuan-chia, evokes the notion of migration between locations. The exhibition features four works that express different strands of Yang’s multivalent practice, linked by her abiding interest in mobility and transformation. Each work explores physical, social and conceptual movement: from the activation of the sculptures, Sonic Intermediates – Three Differential Equations 2020 to the layered imagery of shifting water and weather patterns in the wallpaper, Non-Linear and Non-Periodic Dynamics 2020.

 

Chiharu Shiota (1972-)

Chiharu Shiota was born in Japan, where her father manufactured boxes for fish. She always wanted to be an artist and attended Kyoto Seika University and other universities in Australia and Germany. Shiota lives in Berlin, and her installations are based on memories, emotions, and the cycle of life and death. She uses red, black, or white yarn for her construction material and weaves intricate and meticulous environments with massive webs covering large parts of a gallery or museum. Shiota forms the yarn into shapes based on ordinary cobwebs, human veins, or mathematical fractals. She also incorporates everyday objects in her work, adding to her personal feelings and emotions. 

Living Inside (12.2.43) was created during the forced lockdowns of the pandemic. Staying inside, Shiota became interested in scale, remembrances, and our ties to ordinary household things. Shiota made a miniature world where pieces are frozen in time, reflecting a familiar place yet unseeingly still and quiet. The objects are trapped and tied together with red and black threads and enclosed in a tangled, interwoven web of red. Shiota explained, "We are connected since we are all in the same situation. Everyone is sitting at home looking at their furniture and asking questions about the outside world, which right now has been reduced to a mere memory."[17]

Figure \(\PageIndex{43}\): Living Inside (2021) (dalbera, CC BY 2.0)

Shiota used almost 430 suitcases for her work Accumulation: Searching for the Destination (12.2.44). She believed the suitcases held memories about the movement and migration of people. The suitcases themselves witness the journeys of life. Shiota started collecting suitcases from flea markets. In one suitcase, she found a newspaper from 1947 and became interested in hidden stories. The red strings unite the suitcases and the beginning of someone's journey. The suitcases hang and move on the strings because no journey is precisely known, and change occurs throughout any journey. Shiota said:

"When I look at a heaping pile of suitcases,

all I see is a corresponding number of human lives.

Why did these people leave the place they were born,

in search of some destination?

Why did they go on this voyage?

I think back on the feelings of these people

on the morning of their departure."[18]

Figure \(\PageIndex{44}\): Accumulation: Searching for Destination (2016, old suitcases, rope) (CC BY-NC-SA 2.0)

When Shiota was a child, her neighbor's home burned down, and only their charred piano remained in the silence of the ashes. She remembers the silence and the smell of the smoke, an image staying with her twenty years later. The silence of the piano significantly impacted her; the piano burned, and no longer able to make music. For her installation, In Silence (12.2.45), Shiota burned an old piano and the chairs and tied them together, never more to play, have people watching, singing, or talking, only silence. The black string covers and envelops the piano and chairs, trapping the sounds inside; now, everything is useless. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{45}\): In Silence (2011, burned piano and chairs, black string) (玉心, CC BY-SA 2.0.)

Meet the Artists

This short film follows Chiharu Shiota as she takes us through her monumental installation Uncertain Journey at Blain|Southern Berlin. You can see the artist discussing the allusions to a journey, the symbolism of the interwoven strands and the importance she places on memory.

 

Anselm Kiefer

Anselm Kiefer (1945-) was born in Germany a few months before World War II ended. The city was heavily bombed, a difficult place to live. Kiefer attended the University of Freiburg, first studying languages before switching to art. In the first part of his career, he painted images based on themes from Nazi rule, the Holocaust, or spiritual poetry. Kiefer incorporated straw, clay, ashes, shellac, and lead in the mix of paint applied to the canvas. He used many of his painting concepts and techniques for the large installations. Seven Heavenly Palaces (8.2.30) was based on ideas from an ancient Hebrew writing. The seven towers were fourteen to eighteen meters high, and each weighed ninety tons. Kiefer used reinforced concrete for the towers. He inserted lead wedges between each level. The towers became a summation of Kiefer’s life-long themes of the ancient Hebrews, World War II atrocities, the ruination of Western culture, and the possibilities in the future. He also added large paintings to reinforce his philosophies. Visitors walk through the space to view the towers and paintings, moving between spaces and media. Kiefer added different meanings to each tower. On one tower, he placed an ark representing the ark believed to rest on Ararat. At the base of another tower are small sheets of glass labeled with paper to represent celestial bodies. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{30}\): Seven Heavenly Palaces (2004, reinforced concrete, 13 to 19 meters high) by HeinzDS, CC BY-SA 2.0

Breaking of the Vessels (8.2.31) is a massive installation weighing over seven tons. The bookcase is filled with forty-one lead book folios and interspersed with glass. The books reference Jewish culture and ancient mystical writings. A semicircular pane of glass is suspended above and is inscribed with Hebrew words translating to “Infinite Light .” According to the writings, the attributes of G-d’s light were divided among ten vessels that were not strong enough to contain them and broke, bringing the Divine into an imperfect world.[9] Kiefer frequently referred to the atrocities of the Nazis against the Jews. In front of the bookcase are piles of broken glass, referring to Kristallnacht (The Night of Broken Glass). In November 1938, Nazis and civilians shattered the glass windows in thousands of Jewish-owned businesses and synagogues. The Nazis destroyed and burned all the books they found in Jewish homes, synagogues, schools, or businesses. The books are made from lead, impenetrable, hidden. Kiefer frequently used lead in his paintings and installations, lead representing a crushing, brutal force. He described lead as “the only material heavy enough to carry the weight of human history.”[10] 

Figure \(\PageIndex{31}\): Breaking of the Vessels (1990, lead, iron, glass, copper wire, charcoal, aquatec, 378.5 x 836.9 x 518.2 cm) by clio1789, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Kara Walker

Kara Walker (1969-) was born in California, her father a painter and professor. Walker said she used to sit on her father's lap and watch him draw, always wanted to become an artist. She received a BFA from Atlanta College of Art and an MFA from Rhode Island School of Design. Walker lived in California until she was thirteen in an integrated neighborhood surrounded by civil rights activists. When she moved to Georgia, Walker was shocked to discover the amount of discrimination, including the Ku Klux Klan rallies, still occurring. The discriminatory practices of the south highly influenced Walker, and her art focused on the brutalities of slavery. Walker is known for her panoramic silhouettes depicting racism, and the realities of life slaves endured. Her work was primarily black figures backed by a white wall using paper, video, shadow puppets, or other projections. Walker has also branched out and created oversized sculptures. Her silhouettes in African't (8.2.32) are almost life-sized. Men, women, and children who were black and white are depicted in different scenes before the civil war. The scenes present a diverse tableau of the white population's terror, violence, and inhumanity to the black people held in bondage. Walker displayed the spoken and unspoken of violence and sexual abuse. Each image has a specific interpretation, the details of a disturbing view of race relations in the American south. Walker usually positioned her silhouettes strung out against the wall or running down a wall by stairs, spreading the work out to view each frame.

Figure \(\PageIndex{32}\): African't (1996, cut paper on wall, 365.7 x 2011.6 cm) by Ron of the Desert,  CC BY-ND 2.0

Event Horizon (8.2.33, 8.2.34) is placed by the lobby's central stairway. The silhouettes represent the Underground Railroad and the African American's struggles for freedom, the installation resembling an Asian scroll. The first image depicts the man releasing a shackled woman who loses her hold of the child, all of them falling into the dark abyss. Walker's work is very detailed; the small fingers, braided hair, or ragged hem of the dress are all visible in the black cutouts. In any of Walker's images, the people's faces are not visible; the people's emotions are built into their body positions and interactions. The strong context of the black silhouettes against the stark white background removes all ideas of gray areas to explain the sinister horror of slavery.

Figure \(\PageIndex{33}\): Event Horizon (part 1) (2005, latex paint) by rocor, CC BY-NC 2.0

Figure \(\PageIndex{34}\): Event Horizon (part 2) (2005, latex paint) by rocor, CC BY-NC 2.0

In 2014, the massive sugar factory in Brooklyn, New York, would be demolished. Walker designed a monumental sculpture to represent the exploitation of the people throughout the history of the sugar trade. The building was constructed in the late nineteenth century to store the raw sugar from the Caribbean before the sugar was refined and packaged; sugar was a luxury. Hundreds of thousands of slaves were taken to the Caribbean to work on the vast sugar plantations, building the sugar market on the backs of Africans shipped across the Atlantic. Sugar was also known as blood sugar, defining how humans bled through the exploited work in the fields or under the brutality of the overseers. Walker designed an immense sphinx-like woman, representing the building and the history of sugar. A Subtlety or the Marvelous Sugar Baby (8.2.35) is located between two rows of steel columns, the Sugar Baby appearing as a colossal goddess.  

Figure \(\PageIndex{35}\): A Subtlety or the Marvelous Sugar Baby (2014, polystyrene blocks, sugar, 22.8 meters long, 10.6 meters high) by Inhabitat,  CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

The sculpture was created from 330 huge polystyrene blocks and then covered with eighty tons of sugar—the sugar coating over the blocks allowing the seams of the polystyrene to show like quarried stone. When the Sugar Baby is approached from the front (8.2.36), her enlarged hands appear foreshortened, her pendulous breasts filling the space and her enigmatic face.

Figure \(\PageIndex{36}\): A Subtlety front view, by Inhabitat, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Walking around to the back of the statue (8.2.37), the viewer comes upon her buttocks jutting up from the shortened spine, thighs, and calves. "A powerful personification of the most beleaguered demographic in this country — the black woman — shows us where we all come from, innocent and unrefined."[11]

Figure \(\PageIndex{37}\): A Subtlety back view, by BC. LBCo, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Around the Sugar Baby were thirteen small molasses-colored boys (8.2.38) standing about one and a half meters high. The statues were made from cast resin and covered in molasses or cast sugar, some light, others darker colors. The figures are carrying bananas or baskets, appearing to bring offerings, or they were only tired workers coming back from the cane fields. The whole installation remained in place for a little over two months. The building was open to the elements, and the weather eroded the sculptures before they were taken down. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{38}\): The Subtley figure (cast resin and sugar) by gigi_nyc,  CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

Urs Fischer

Urs Fischer (1973-) was born in Switzerland; his parents were doctors. At first, Fisher studied photography before opening his studio. Today, his work includes sculpture, drawing, painting, and his first interest in photography. Fisher's work is frequently classified as subversive and non-traditional, often creating oversized installations. Get Up Girl a Sun Is Running the World (8.2.42) is an installation based on 2,000-year-old olive trees found in the Italian countryside. He cast the trees in aluminum and covered them with white enamel. The natural trees' gnarled trunk and twisted branches are captured and frozen in time, then installed in an abnormal setting of concrete and glass, the beauty of the natural setting lost. Fischer said, "What interests me about the 2000-year-old olive trees is the fact that once they are cast bare naked, they become Memoriam of condensed time. Through a cast olive tree, you can not only experience the lapse of real-time, that is lived time, frozen in its given form but through this transformation also a different calibrated temporality."[13] 

Figure \(\PageIndex{42}\): Get Up Girl a Sun Is Running the World (2007, cast aluminum, white enamel) by dalbera,  CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Fischer invited 1,500 people to help make clay structures for his exhibition of Yes (8.2.43, 8.2.44). The clay was provided for the people, and they were able to use all the clay needed and create anything they wanted. The people were from all walks of life, no experience required, and the results from the people were varied; some sculptures were polished, others were crude; they were large and small, made by young and old. The exhibit covered all of the floor space, and some people even used the walls. Objects included an array of unfired clay skulls, humble pretzels, Batman's head, octopi, dogs, birds, life-sized nudes, a bathtub, a fireplace, a tiny smartphone, a tombstone for chivalry (hah), a bowl of ramen, and an impressively giant and accurate Jabba the Hutt.[14] 

Figure \(\PageIndex{43}\): Yes (view 1) (2013, clay) by andydr, CC BY 2.0.

 

Figure \(\PageIndex{44}\): Yes (view 2) (2013, clay)  by andydr, CC BY 2.0

Fischer worked beside the people making his sculptures, including the immense wax sculpture Untitled (8.2.45), an image resembling Giambologna's Rape of the Sabine Women from the 1500s. Fischer placed wicks throughout the wax sculpture and then burned them to achieve the dripping and melted look of the statue. His oversized sculpture contrasted the smaller creations of the people, and the exhibition has the look of disparate pieces in a landscape of ruins, broken figures, and unassociated images. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{45}\): Untitled (2013, wax) by andydr,  CC BY 2.0

Fischer used the concept of ordinary objects to create the absurd. His monumental work, Untitled (Lamp/Bear) (8.2.46), is an image of a child's bright yellow teddy bear as part of a desk lamp. The mammoth bear is about two stories high as it sits, flopping forward. The bear appears to be sitting on the lamp as the light sits above his head, the giant lamp providing light for the outdoor space. The bear is wrinkled and looks cozy, ready to be held by a child. However, the bear is not made from soft fur as it appears; instead, it is cast of bronze and weighs about seventeen tons.

Figure \(\PageIndex{46}\): Untitled (Lamp/Bear) (2005, painted/lacquered cast bronze, acrylic glass, LED lights, stainless steel interior framework, 700 x 650 x 749.9 cm)  by Dan Nguyen, CC BY-NC 2.0

Olafur Eliasson

Olafur Eliasson (1967-) was born in Denmark, although his parents had recently emigrated from Iceland. His father was an artist and moved back to Iceland after divorcing Eliasson's mother. Eliasson studied art at the Royal Danish Academy of Fine Arts and then moved to Germany. His artwork is large and complex, so Eliasson collaborates with a team of architects and engineers, and other artists. He is also a professor at Berlin University, where he works with spatial experiments. Eliasson is well-known for creating multi-sensory exhibitions and combining scientific phenomena, environmental concerns, and art.

The weather has always been part of everyday conversation, will it be hot or cold or when the rain might start. Eliasson created The Weather Project (8.2.47) to bring the experience of the sun and sky. A fine mist is felt throughout the day as though coming from outside. At the end of the hall, hundreds of mono-frequency lamps, as installed in a semicircle, reflected in a huge mirror. The lamps contain a light restricted to a very narrow frequency, so they only emit yellow and black; any other colors become invisible. The result is a perfect sun seemingly static and unmoving, its light turning viewers into small black shadows. Eliasson has constructed the exhibition so viewers can also walk behind the sun and view how the electrical wiring, sub-structure, and misting machines are assembled and function. Aluminum frames were lined with the mirrored foil to create the reflective sun with the 200 lights in the semicircle.

Figure \(\PageIndex{47}\): The Weather Project (2003, mono frequency lights, projection foil, haze machines, mirror foil, aluminium, scaffolding, 26.7 x 22.3 x 155.4 meters) by Istvan,  CC BY-NC-ND 2.0

The New York City Waterfalls (8.2.48) were a temporary installation during the summer of 2008 in New York City. The four waterfalls were situated on the East River at each bridge. The waterfalls were meant to enhance the public space and give people a sense of relationship with their surroundings. The basic structure was a set of scaffolding as the backbone for each separate fall, along with water pumps and hoses. The waterfalls were powered by electricity from "green power" and illuminated with LED lights. The fish were protected with special filters and intake pools to make the entire project environmentally sensitive. The cascading water brought a feeling of mountains and natural places in the middle of a congested urban area. The sound of falling water provides a softer sound among the harsh din of the city.

Figure \(\PageIndex{48}\): New York City Waterfalls (2008, water, scaffolding, steel grill, troughs, pumps, piping, pool filters, LED lights, ultra-violet filters, concrete, switch gears, electrical equipment, wiring, control modules, anemometers, 30-40 meters high) by epicharmus,  CC BY 2.0

Eliasson wanted to bring the experience of the perspective of the horizon. He didn't think of the horizon as a line; instead, he felt it was a dimension. Eliasson explained, "Questioning one's horizon requires us to question linearity and create a new horizon."[15] His exhibit Inside the Horizon (8.2.49) is a series of forty-three triangular columns with varying widths running beside a grotto. Two sides of every column are covered with mirrors, and one side is clad in yellow glass tiles. The columns are illuminated from the inside. Each column is a different size and positioned at a different angle. Viewers walk through the columns, and their reflections create endless diffracted reflections on the water, building columns, and even themselves. The space becomes filled and changes with hundreds of facets and surprising visuals, much like a kaleidoscope.

Figure \(\PageIndex{49}\): Inside the Horizon (2013, Stainless steel, aluminium, LED light system, colored glass, mirror, 5.4 x 91 x 5.2 meters) by beatrice.boutetdemvl, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Bharti Kher

Bharti Kher (1969-) was born in England and received her BA from Newcastle Polytechnic. She moved to India in 1993, where she still lives. Her art is based on a relationship of an object and its metaphysical and material dimensions and how she repositions the concepts and thoughts the viewer previously held. Most of her work includes the bindi, the red dot women in India apply to their forehead between the eyebrows. The red dot contains significant traditional and religious meanings and is generally associated with the Hindu definition of the third eye. Kher explained, "Many people believe it's a traditional symbol of marriage while others, in the West particularly, see it as a fashion accessory… But actually the bindi is meant to represent a third eye – one that forges a link between the real and the spiritual-conceptual worlds."[16] Kher uses the bindi as part of her art, shifting the meaning. Her sculptures are generally fantastical, blurring the lines between real and mythical, typically made from found objects with their own definition, which becomes changed. Kher makes her objects open to misinterpretation, magical thinking of abstract forms.

The Skin Speaks, a language not its own (8.2.50), is Kher's most well-known work. She became interested in the concept of elephants after seeing a photograph of a collapsed elephant being put into a truck, an image she remembered for a long time before making her elephant. The life-sized elephant is made from fiberglass and lies on the ground on its stomach with its head turned. If an elephant dies, it falls to the ground on its side, and this elephant is sited differently. The elephant is covered with white bindis forming unending patterns on the elephant. Kher used the bindi to act as a skin on the elephant giving life to something dying. The heavy elephant appears to be lifted by the thousands of bindis as the bindi do not stop while they move over the elephant's skin. The elephant's head is turned, and the eye appears to look at the viewer.

Figure \(\PageIndex{50}\): The Skin Speaks a Language Not Its Own (2006, fiberglass, bindi, 142 x 456 x 195 cm) by Mel Hodgkinson, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0

Kher wanted to create the heart of the massive blue sperm whale; however, she did not find enough scientific documentation about the construction of the whale's heart, so she invented her version in An Absence of Assignable Cause (8.2.51). Kher designed the life-sized heart and added veins and arteries jutting out from the enormous heart. The entire sculpture is covered with colored bindis, which Kher applies individually to create precise patterns and create movement. The monumental installation also reflects the position of the immense whale in the disintegrating environment. 

Figure \(\PageIndex{51}\): An Absence of Assignable Cause (2007, bindis on fiberglass, 173 x 300 x 116 cm) by Anosmia,  CC BY 2.0

Installation art is based on multiple earlier movements, including the reuse and small installations of Dada or Performance Art creatively using and interpreting space, even conceptual art and the focus on the ideas over the aesthetic.

 

---

[1] Retrieved from https://www.tate.org.uk/whats-on/tat...unflower-seeds

[2] Retrieved from https://www.magasin3.com/en/artwork/world-map-2/

[3] Retrieved from https://www.gap.net.au/yayoi-kusama

[4] Retrieved from https://mattress.org/works/infinity-...mirrored-room/

[5] Retrieved from https://www.tate.org.uk/art/artists/...-is-el-anatsui

[6] Retrieved from https://www.artnews.com/art-news/art...ungry-god-172/

[7] Retrieved from https://www.indiatoday.in/magazine/society-the-arts/story/20140127-subodh-gupta-and-his-creation-delhi-799864-1999-11-30

[8] Retrieved from https://www.npr.org/templates/story/...ryId=103674782

[9] Retrieved from https://stljewishlight.org/arts-ente...s-masterpiece/

[10] Retrieved from https://www.royalacademy.org.uk/arti...eginners-guide

[11] Retrieved by https://www.nytimes.com/2014/05/12/a...ino-plant.html

[12] Retrieved from http://whatsupmiami.blogspot.com/201...at-basels.html

[13] Retrieved from https://www.phillips.com/detail/ugo-...one/UK010411/4

[14] Retrieved from https://hyperallergic.com/69868/urs-...he-overcooked/

[15] Retrieved from https://www.fondationlouisvuitton.fr...de-the-horizon

[16] Retrieved from https://www.hauserwirth.com/artists/2793-bharti-kher/