Life keeps collapsing

Foundations of permanence and familiarity fold to nothing in the sculptures of Joshua Harris

Published on February 14, 2008

Study the photographs of American artist Joshua Harris' sculptures with high-rise buildings in the background and you just know that his works are going to be massive and heavy.

So Somporn Phanthong, art co ordinator of the Office of Contemporary Art and Culture (OCAC), was mentally adding up the kilograms when she

e-mailed Harris to arrange his solo show at a Bangkok gallery. She'd seen some of the photos and asked him whether he thought the sculptures would be too large to fit through the door.

Sitting at his computer in the US, Harris probably permitted himself a smile. In fact, each of his sculptures measures less than 60 centimetres in height. They are also lightweight, foldable and fit into a small box that can be easily carried by hand. You can check out his works at the exhibition "A Season in Refuge: Nomadic Monuments" showing at the OCAC gallery until February 29.

For the show, Harris has placed several of his cedarwood and paper sculptures alongside the photographs of the same works, in which they seem to loom impressively in their poses at public spaces all over the world. His "Descending Tower", for instance, rises against a construction site in Philadelphia and atop a cliff at Big Sur on the California coast, while "Nomadic Monument I" competes for the attention of the viewer's eye with Le Grand Palais in Paris and the wide stretches of Long Island's Holiday Beach.

The fragile materials are intended to contrast with the more permanent materials usually used for monuments, such as stone and metal. The folding element comes from the tradition of Japanese screens and the paper hinge, and allows the works to collapse down into smaller objects, making them easy to store, move and set up.

"A descending tower is like the opposite of a monument, which rises up into the sky. I think the movement is ambiguous. It could represent the regression or destruction of civilisation, rather than glorifying history like most monuments. It is not about brave sacrifice like a war monument, but more a critique of what we call progress," explains the 31-year-old.

In response to a recent nomadic

period in his life, when he was constantly relocating from one city to another, his works also challenge the flimsy sense of personal space within open areas. The forms of his sculptures draw inspiration from the forms of a bed frame and surrounding walls.

"The works are inspired by human fragility and the difficult and fragile balance we try to maintain in order to keep a healthy mind and body," he says.

His "Nomadic Monument I" is about the relationship between mother and child, with the form of the work reminiscent of a bed.

"But unlike most beds, which have four legs, I created just three legs for the main frame, and then two legs for the baby's crib. The architecture of the crib is influenced by a fort, like castle walls for protection. The crib rests precariously on two legs, but if the balance is not disturbed, the baby should be fine. However, when I worked with these pieces in public spaces the wind would often make them fall."

The three-legged work, says Harris, is inspired by the massive sculpture "Melting Void" by the late, celebrated Thai artist Montien Boonma. Intrigued by the lost-wax process once used to cast large bronze Buddhas, Montien made this massive work of seamed moulds for Buddha busts standing on steel-pipe legs, surrounded with metal rods and casting tools.

Although Harris never met Montien, he helped mount his retrospective at New York's Asia Society in 2003 and the following year at San Francisco's Asian Art Museum and Australia's National Gallery in Canberra. After travelling with two trailers across the world with Montien's works, the idea of miniature portable artworks in fragile materials became increasingly important to him.

"I'm trained as a painter, but after working on Montien's large sculptures, I had a better understanding of space and materials," he says.

Harris also presents a series of ink drawings focusing on his bedroom that throw further light on the creative origins of the sculptures and the sense of vulnerability they seek to capture.

"The bedroom functions as the final stage for the ill, the ageing and the dying, but it is also the place where life is conceived and regained. Sleeping is both a needed and desired human instinct. Neither a brick home nor a nomadic tent affords us complete protection."

His works address the challenge of trying to abandon the sense of comfort and security from familiarity and permanence, and to find comfort in the ephemeral.

"The assembling and de-assembling process for exhibit in public puts me in a more vulnerable position. I am making my work more available for critique and in a way revealing myself to total strangers.

" I also enjoy the adrenaline of working out in the open as opposed to being isolated in a studio. When I walk away an hour later [having set up, photographed, then dismantled a piece] and leave the space, there is something amazing about feeling like I have accomplished something with no physical record left there. The space is the same as how I found it."

The show continues until February 29. The OCAC art gallery is on the first floor of TPI Tower on Narathiwasrajchanajkarin Road, Bangkok. It's open Tuesday to Sunday, 10am to 7pm. Call (02) 422 8828-9 or visit OcacArtGallery.com.

Khetsirin Pholdhampalit

Xpress