![]() The echoey watershed space is constant as I weave my way around temporary walls and take in the towering installations. The rest of the exhibition snakes onwards in a maze-like formation. Installation view, Revival: Materials and Monumental Forms, the Institute of Contemporary Art/Boston, 2022. Courtesy the artist and Tanya Bonakdar Gallery, New York/Los Angeles. The fluidness of the installation is symbolic of the changeability of maps, ownership, and space. Just beyond Patterson’s collages shimmers El Anastui’s “Area B,” an aluminum and copper sculpture whose wave-like form generates an illusion of fluidity, of liquid movement, despite it’s mostly metallic make-up. The collages nod towards the agricultural exploitation of colonialism those who cultivate the earth become lost and then forgotten once the harvest is in. ![]() The figures are swallowed up by the gardens containing the fruit of their labor. To create something you must destroy something, seems to be the ambivalent message here. At first glance, the piece depicts a garden in vivid color, flourishing in wild abundance.But a closer look reveals the figures of three women overwhelmed by the growth. There is a glimmering black wall of five collages mounted on a white frame by Ebony G. From the entryway, only the first two installations are visible. Your initial visual perception is made all the more powerful because the art is surrounded by vast negative space of the structure. The group exhibition on view features six international artists who have created the same number of large scale installations. Upon entering the building you see a sentence inscribed on a large white placard: “The ICA Watershed was born out of our commitment to connect contemporary art and community on both sides of Boston Harbor.” Behind the sign, the building’s raw stone walls and cement floor are visible. In 2018 the building was repurposed for the ICA, so the structure itself dramatizes the idea of repurposing material and acknowledging the work of earlier laborers. In the past, the East Boston Watershed was a copper pipe and sheet metal manufacturing plant. ![]() The show’s concept is that the artists are giving credit to undervalued labor by creating new forms out of old. The pieces here are made up of repurposed material, ranging from salvaged car taillights to protest song lyrics. The watershed show takes a critical look at these layers of production. Along the way, ownership and accreditation become increasingly difficult to determine. The material used to make objects is reused, layered and recycled. Nothing is made out of thin air, no labor is performed by disembodied hands. Revival: Materials and Monumental Forms taps into themes of production and dependency. Still, moving through Boston harbor being deposited parallel to the fishing boats of East Boston serves as part of the aesthetic experience of the ICA Watershed, a connection to the natural world and the area’s vibrant communities. ![]() (It is a distance by car or public transport from the ICA’s Seaport location, so the boat ride is a welcome convenience.). I am leaving the sense of abstract space created by a gallery and making a connection to the physical world as I take the boat ride to the East Boston Watershed. The boat is open, and surrounded by wind, sea spray, and the approaching docks of East Boston. It’s a sunny afternoon, and the choppy ride across Boston Harbor feels like a sharp departure from the clean and polished exterior of the main ICA location that I am leaving in the distance. Installation view at Materials and Monumental Forms, the Institute of Contemporary Art/Boston, 2022. Joe Wardwell, “Gotta Go to Work, Gotta Go to Work, Gotta Get a Job,” 2022. Revival: Materials and Monumental Forms at the ICA Watershed, Boston, through September 4. This exhibition is impressive in drawing connections between material goods and labor, creating beauty out of unconventional forms.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |