SLEEP ROCK
CAMDEN ART CENTRE, LONDON, UNITED KINGDOM
APRIL 19 — JUNE 24, 2018
Videos are what Sadie Benning first
became known for; they won the
then-teenage artist awards and visibility throughout the 1990s on the experi-
mental art and video circuit. Lo-fi and
black and white, they explore aspects of
memory, identity, and the anxiousness
of growing up queer in the Midwestern
United States. “I got started partly because
I needed different images and I never
wanted to wait for someone to do them for
me,” the artist once explained in an interview. Improvising with materials at hand and
a toy camera, the adolescent Benning
constructed fragmented, highly personal
moving images, portraying the artist amid
everyday objects, drawings, and scraps of
handwritten text.
More than two decades later, the homespun
poetics, grainy images, and durational logic
explored in these earlier video works has
expanded and taken on quite a different form
as it confronts the political, conceptual,
and material concerns of another moment in
history. This exhibition, the artist’s first
institutional solo show in Europe, is a collaboration between Kunsthalle Basel and The
Renaissance Society in Chicago. It is also the
first institutional exhibition to focus on the
importance of what are often referred to, for
lack of a better term, as the artist’s “paintings.”
Entitled Shared Eye, the presentation consists of a new series of fifty-five panels. Each
is composed of mounted digital snapshots
taken with the artist’s smartphone, embedded
with painted aqua-resin elements and
found photographs (drawn from a variety of
sources, from Internet-found images of
strangers to 1960s newspaper telefax images),
occasionally punctuated by miniature toys or
inexpensive keepsakes nestled upon tiny
sculpted shelves. There is a felt intensity to
the labor involved in making each piece, and
a decided (willfully imperfect) hand detectable in the rough-hewn forms, sanded edges,
and incorporated elements. A nervous pictorial energy is built up through this process,
and inexplicable connections emerge among
a work’s different elements.
A gathering of protesters, the artist’s own
vinyl collection and bedroom, a film still from Citizen Kane, a desolate alleyway, Benjamin
Franklin’s visage on a US banknote, a
miniature calendar, a toy robot, Ku Klux Klan
members marching together: these describe
just some of the images, objects, and re-
ferences embedded in the works. They juxtapose the intimate and the anonymous,
the digital present and an indeterminate
analog past, the miniature and the extreme
close-up, putting viewers in front of
Benning’s highly personal response to the
state of the world at a moment of deep
political uncertainty. They are also imbued
with the charge of what has come before
and what is yet to come, since each piece, the
artist attests, “serves as a visual representation of the past, the present, and the future,
colliding.”
The resultant pieces hover between mediums,
defying easy categorization, acting simultaneously as drawings, sculptures, photo-
graphic works, and even paintings. When
speaking of them Benning persistently
evokes film editing techniques, and it is
tempting to read this show as a kind of film
loop. The rhythm of the display is intentionally cinematic in nature, mimicking the
cuts, pans, fades, pauses, and staccato
transitions of time-based media. Here, meaning is produced not only from within the
composition of each still image-panel and the
dialogues between them (notice how in
the first room the found photograph of the
“person with package” in that eponymous
work seems to walk toward the figures in
Crosswalk). Meaning is also built through the
spacing and the deliberately vacant areas
in the exhibition, like leader punctuating a
film. Notice how in the first rooms the spacing
is wide and blank wall spaces are abundant,
like the start of a film in which clues are
being left, a scene set, a mood established.
By the end, the pace has quickened and the
density of arrangements and flicker of images
becomes more intense, even willfully aggravated. The experience of the ensemble is thus
spatial and textural, but also temporal.
Since the first galleries are seen twice—upon
entering and exiting the space—Benning
conceived the pieces in rooms 1 to 3 as both
a prologue and an afterword to the core of
the exhibition: an installation that bears the
title of the show itself, Shared Eye. The last two
galleries, rooms 4 and 5, contain an installation made in response to the 1976 series
of paintings To the People of New York City
by the late German artist Blinky Palermo.
Made shortly before Palermo died and never
exhibited in his lifetime, To the People of New
York City left an impact on Benning. Palermo’s
installation is composed of forty seemingly
nonrepresentational paintings, presented in a
rhythmic pattern of different scales and
proximities, and arranged in fifteen sequences
for which he left annotated sketches. Benning’s installation uses the frame ratio of each
panel of Palermo’s series as well as the same
total number of panels and grouping arrange-
ments, appropriating the late artist’s idiosyncratic specifications. There is no intentionally
overt relationship between the content of
Benning’s and Palermo’s works, but in their
mathematical connection (or “mathematic
mania,” as Benning puts it), there is a numerology that quietly binds them. And in so doing,
Benning highlights the ways that we insert
our own histories and ideas into the frames we
encounter.
The title Shared Eye evokes the idea of seeing
as an ongoing collaboration between individuals, which cannot be extricated from its
many, often conflicting, sources. These works
emphasize how rampant capitalism and its
adjoining structures of patriarchy, misogyny,
racism, and xenophobia inform the subconscious—redirecting the imagination and one’s
sense of what is true. The body of presented
work was designed to draw attention to how
we experience, collectively and alone, and
each piece functions individually and as part
of the larger group. Cumulatively, the show
is meant to generate the fragmented, filmic
quality of memory and dreams, inviting
a distinctive response in the viewer who encounters them. The body and the mind
complete each work.
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