Down the rabbit hole

Andalucía (detail) 2007 by Maddie Leach (Images courtesy of the artist )

We currently live in a digital wonderland. By this I mean that for many people reality is mediated via audio and visual representations of the world through TV, internet or computer enhanced imagery. The internet is the most prevalent simulated reality of our age. Perhaps the most extreme example is Second Life. Second Life is a completely virtual world where people can live out alternate lives. It even has its own currency called the Linden dollar allowing users to buy and sell virtual goods such as cars with real money.

In the 1980s the philosopher Jean Baudrillard (1929 – 2007) coined the term simulacra to describe this from of hyper-reality. He argued that humans create meaning based upon the perceived relationship of valuing one thing above another or distinguishing one thing apart from another. Thereby simplifying the world so that we can find meaning in life. In the process, according to Baudrillard, we manufacture a reality that is in fact a type of delusion. This is what Baudrillard calls the simulacra were the simulated becomes perceived as being more real than the reality. Baudrillard’s philosophy influenced the popular science fiction film the Matrix which depicts an idyllic but virtual 1990s American urban society created by a super computer to enslave humans. In fact, the climax of the film illustrates Baudrillard’s point that such simulated realities that are far too cohesive and simplistic inevitably become week and dysfunctional - resulting in the delusion to dissolve.

On show at Te Tuhi Centre for the Arts is a multimedia installation Entitled Andalucia by artist Maddie Leach that toys with the escapism of simulacra. Te Tuhi is located in Manukau City in Auckland and has a dual role being both a community art educational centre and a contemporary art gallery regularly exhibiting temporary shows and installations. Leach’s installation is comprised of two works based in and adjacent to Te Tuhi’s sculpture court. Te Tuhi’s sculpture courtyard is a very modest patio area paved with grey concrete bricks – which bears more similarity to a recreational area in a prison than a venue for art.

Andalucía (detail) 2007 by Maddie Leach

The main component to Andalucia could be easily overlooked which is surprising because it consumes a large area of the courtyard. Not so surprising is that the artwork is actually a hole in the ground. After simple observation we become aware that this is actually a rather particular hole. Approximately 1m in diameter and 2m deep the cylindrical hole appears to be excavated with surgeon-like precision. The concrete bricks have been carefully removed in a hexagonal shape exposing an undisturbed grid pattern etched into the underlying sand. Sectioning off the exposed area and hole is a hexagonal fence of fluorescent orange plastic fencing mesh staked with unblemished black painted steel warratahs. Nearby is a tarpaulin containing a mound of dirt from the hole. There is also carefully spray painted purple lines on the surrounding pavement indicating buried pipes or power cables. It is obvious based upon the pedantic cleanliness that this excavation is no standard operation – indeed such a result would not be expected of even the most proficient tradesmen. The hole therefore could be considered an idealised hyperrealist hole in which the actual creation is more fantastic than a “real” hole would be.

The hole we learn after consulting the wall label is actually the meager beginnings of a grand tunnel to an olive grove in Cortijo del Granadal, east of Olvera, Andalucia – the sculpture courtyard’s exact antipodal point. To ascertain this Leach used the website Dig Holes which utilises Google Earth technology allowing the user to select any point on the globe from which to tunnel through the core of the earth and pop out the opposite point – virtually speaking of course. Therefore, not only are we presented with an idealised hole but also a symbolic and virtual hole that triggers our imagination -proposing an escape from the present reality of a drab patio. This internet induced escapism is as Baudrillard would claim a delusion - that simplifies the more complex reality that it is impossible to dig right through the earth.

Andalucía (detail) 2007 by Maddie Leach

(Images courtesy of the artist)

Equally idealised and delusional is the second component to the installation. Located on the inside glass door entrance to the courtyard is a video work presented on a wall mounted plasma screen. The video is of a golden setting sun sailing across a serene amber sky. The overt candidness of the video is of no surprise when we read that it is actually stock footage purchased via the internet. However, despite the cliché romanticism and clipart unoriginality - the suggestion of a Spanish setting sun nevertheless seduces us.

The ridiculousness of the hole to Andalucia leads us to a humorous understanding of how digital media has greatly influenced our perception of reality. The work could also be seen as a comment to the insecurity many New Zealanders feel of being stuck on an island at the bottom of the world. An anxiety which inspires Kiwis to escape to more exotic or exciting foreign lands. Andalucia could similarly be a political art statement about the great ambition but limited opportunities of New Zealand artists in this country.

Exhibition closes 28th February
Te Tuhi Centre for the Arts
13 Reeves Road, Pakuranga,
Manukau City

Forest of Formalism

artwork by John Johns

Objects are nothing but the significance we give or impose upon them. The means to which we apply meaning to inanimate objects, however, is a complex and confusing muddle of various factors. Stories, memory, emotion, smell, texture, the use of something, the context in which it is utilised and by whom – are but a few contributing aspects that influence what an object means to us. On a national level the significance of objects gets even more knotted and convoluted as the power of cultural, political and economic forces govern the use, production and value of things. Despite their powerful governance these forces – at least in the passing of our daily lives – remain secondary or even subliminally veiled to our personal understandings and meanings of objects.

On show at the Adam Art Gallery in Wellington is an exhibition that reveals how such implicit influences have tainted the meaning of wood in New Zealand. The exhibition is called Primary Products and is curated by gallery director Christina Barton. Here is Barton's introduction text in pdf. Through the work of five artists Barton charts New Zealand’s economic dependence on the forestry industry particularly the production of exotic forests and the politics of its export. The art is a mixture of new work and other works acquired from museum collections (including a stunning installation by artist Jim Allan on loan from the Govett-Brewster collection and a monumental 20 meter long Paratene Matchitt work borrowed from Te Papa). Of the most curious inclusions is a series of black and white photographs by the late commercial photographer John Johns.

Originally commissioned by Forestry New Zealand (between the mid 50s - late 80s) these photographs could be viewed as straightforward documentation. However, the objective perspective that Johns has photographed is not just the result of taking a snapshot rather through great care of lighting conditions and fine artistic skill of composition. It takes no explanation to emphasise the quality and seductive allure of the photographs once you experience them. Although, what really makes these photographs captivating artworks is that they communicate a particular perspective and story to us. Strolling past the 25 photographs we witness the processes and stages of turning trees into timber, its export and ultimate use. We are shown forests inserted like pins in grid formation into vast hill sides - miniscule men scaling tower like trees in strategic fashion in order to manicure and thin out the forest - saw mills that dice and filet logs into timber - which is then stack and sorted in warehouses and yards as if data on mathematic paper. The scale of the production is not clearly apparent until we study an image of a containership - laden with an entire forest of timber - carving through a platinum sea with obvious mass and propulsion. Johns is successful in capturing the enormity and vast scale of the industry through his particular pictorial perspectives and emphasis of linier form. His ridged formalist control of the photographic process also in turn draws our attention to how humankind controls and manipulates the natural world by imposing rational order on wilderness. The images are also significant of the military like efficiency of trade and commerce.

This formalism is also seen in Maddie Leach’s body of work centred around a simple looking crate (exactly 1m high x 1m wide x 3m in length so the wall text informs us) containing a pedantically stacked and securely bound bundle of eucalyptus logs. Confronted with what merely seems a pile of logs in a box it is hard at first not to be perplexed. Indeed, the overtly standard issue industrial appearance of this crate and contents appear deceptively normal. It is not until we read the accompanying wall text that the context of the work becomes clear. Apparently the logs were supposed to have been shipped to Santiago as an artwork for exhibition but due to Chilean customs Leach’s crate was not allowed to arrive. Additional works by the artist nearby act as evidence to this story. Evidence including customs pro-forma stating the crates dispatch and destination. There is also video evidence of the tree being felled - albeit oddly choreographed so that the tree falls exactly centre stage. There is also further footage of Leach’s attempt to find the vessel containing her logs in Santiago harbour. This ridiculously small consignment of eucalyptus therefore, becomes significant of the economic competition between New Zealand’s and Chile’s forestry industries and the political powers that go to great lengths to control international exchange.

Reflecting the formalism of the artworks this exhibition appears to be the result of considered research and planning. Its curious mix of vastly different artists strangely ties together well – perhaps due to the fact that each artists work is isolated in different galleries. This exhibition is successful at making us aware of how political and economic forces pervasively influence the meaning of the objects we are continually in contact with. You will find the Adam Art Gallery nestled amongst Victoria University’s Kelburn campus. Exhibition closes 7th of October 2007.