HETEROTOPIA - A STATEMENT BY FIONA ACKERMAN
With just under two weeks remaining in Fiona`s remarkable show, make sure to come down and see her work, the trip will be worth your while, allow us to entice you....
Eloquently written, we thought we would share Fiona`s insightful words on her work. Happy Reading...
Here, the most absurd ideas are elevated while practical (responsible) considerations are left only superficially considered. Under exposed pipes and inadequate light, a self-indulgent theatre is played out, a heterotopia blossoms. In these hidden think tanks, an artistic exercise meant to reflect something true or philosophical about the world outside its doors runs amuck. Tangents of association mix with struggle and play. The result is discovery, and need not be more.
Eloquently written, we thought we would share Fiona`s insightful words on her work. Happy Reading...
Heterotopia
- A
Paper Trail to Foucault
There
are also, probably in every culture, in every civilization, real places .….
which are
something like counter-sites, a kind of effectively enacted utopia in which the
real sites, all
the other real sites that can be found within the culture, are simultaneously
represented, contested,
and inverted. Places of this kind are outside of all places, even though it may
be possible
to indicate their location in reality. Because these places are absolutely
different from
all the sites that they reflect and speak about, I shall call them, by way of
contrast to utopias,
heterotopias.
Michel
Foucault. Of Other Spaces (1967), Heterotopias.
Translated from the French by
Jay Miskowiec.
I
am not a premeditative painter. During the last ten years, most if not all of
my paintings started with a white canvas on the floor being mercilessly,
deliberately defiled. Yet as I write this, I am concluding a body of work in
which there has been very little room for accident. My approach has been
delicate and calculated. Far from the days of destroying months of work in one
whimsical splash from a bucket of white acrylic, these paintings evolved
from strategy during afternoons spent with my nose up against oil paint, the
last signs of life squeezed desperately from a select few favored brushes.
I
was relieved to be freed from the rollercoaster of abstraction and even took
comfort in being able to predict where the painting would be by the end of the
day. Never the less, a part of me still longed for the thrill of surprise, that
moment of ecstasy when a mess of a painting, like a ship lost at sea, begins to
find its way. This act of wandering, which had once taken so much paint, took
place on paper.
I
began by, reproducing certain gestures and shapes from earlier paintings on individual
pieces of paper, extracting what I saw as a personal symbolism from my earlier work.
By rearranging them into compositions on the studio wall, I reentered my own
artwork from an entirely new perspective. The trail forged by the last decade
could now be explored.
At
the same time, I began to look for ways to conceptualize this new direction.
Where could it go? I could envision many directions, none of them parallel to
each other, nor in opposition. Each new painting began as a departure from the
first, but never the less connected to it. Inspired by science writer Margaret
Wertheim’s beautifully crochet (hyperbolic) coral reefs I began to imagine
myself working in a form of hyperbolic space, an infinite
realm between any number of ideas stemming from that initial piece of
spray-painted paper hung on a studio wall.
As
these pieces of paper (notebook pages, really) worked their way into to new painting,
so too did other pieces of my physical environment. The world inside my studio began
to turn up on canvas. Painted with a degree of fidelity, a piece of paper is
accepted as a representation of paper, a paint can, as a paint can. But in this
series, the convention didn’t seem to hold. As I began the process of
reflecting my outside world, it turned upsidedown, became
framed inside the edges of the canvas. I began to realize these paintings have
more in common with each other than with any physical place I have ever been.
As my metaphorical ship came to shore, I found myself landing in my own
heterotopia.
The
realities falsely reflected onto these canvases are heterotopias of illusion. Function
layered on dysfunction they reshape this incompatibility and offer a new reading
of the represented place. I see this painted heterotopia being played out in
two ways. First, formally, by manipulating the composition of elements in the
paintings, the usual assumptions about foreground and background are broken
down. The result is an opportunity
to simultaneously represent an illusionary depth to a painting and expose the flatness
of the canvas by applying thick paint that literally sits raised off the
surface.
Secondly,
as mentioned, these pieces use representations of recognizable objects and
locations (sheets of paper, artwork and other materials found in a studio) to
build narratives. However, in the context of these new narratives, the original
function of the objects represented is redirected. A piece of paper held by
tape takes on an anthropomorphic
presence. The spaces meant to read as walls begin to dislodge, acting as doorways
breaking depth of field, or symbolizing the sails of a ship.
Making
these paintings, I was surprised by the seemingly endless ways heterotopic spaces
can be played out through their narratives. But as quickly as the paper trail
led me to Foucault, Foucault brings me right back into the studio, into every
studio, into the heterotopia that is the physical studio. Just
as Foucault found heterotopic spaces in our gardens, churches and museums, so
too is the artist’s studio a marginal space where incompatible realities are
played out.
Here, the most absurd ideas are elevated while practical (responsible) considerations are left only superficially considered. Under exposed pipes and inadequate light, a self-indulgent theatre is played out, a heterotopia blossoms. In these hidden think tanks, an artistic exercise meant to reflect something true or philosophical about the world outside its doors runs amuck. Tangents of association mix with struggle and play. The result is discovery, and need not be more.
In
studio spaces, we create a place outside the every day, a counter-site to use Foucault’s
terms, in which we can reflect our experience of being, and turn it
upside-down.
After
all, it is with the mind that we see rather than with the eye. Is a pipe ever
a pipe?
-
Fiona Ackerman, February 2012
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