Breathing the space

The Light & Space exhibition in Copenhagen Contemporary (3.12.21 – 4.9.22) was an ambitious and comprehensive overview on the style, providing maybe a little bit more than needed.

A part of Helen Pashgian's Untitled (2006–2007)

Copenhagen Contemporary is a gallery – or, rather, an exhibition space – specialized on installation art. With its several large halls it is apt for the job, and certainly a venue to pay attention to, especially light-art-wise. 

The gallery provides a wide range exhibition of Light & Space movement– or “movement”, since it wasn’t a coherent consortium, but a bunch of people doing roughly same kind of stuff, more or less aware of each other. The style was born in California in the 60’s, concentrating on, you guessed it, light and space. In addition to Californian sunlight, the local airplane and car industry contributed, too, with easily available new materials and technologies, and an interest in cooperation with artists. Thus the sleek, finished, technological look.

In the Light and Space movement, perception is the key, and light and space are the obvious tools to manipulate that. Installations are the usual format of Light and Space, for, you know, including light and space, but other genres of art are included as well. Artworks often count on the viewer: the artwork is not merely observed but experienced. And sometimes that is not just a fancy word. 

Some of the artworks in the exhibition deal with both light and space, some with either, some with neither, at least not more than artworks usually do. I’ll concentrate on the works checking both boxes. A crueler approach to choosing the artworks might have done the exhibition a tad more distinctive, instead of trying to give an example of everything. Anyhow, it was very well worth seeing as it was.

More of Robert Irwin's Light and Space below

Tricks and Treats

The strongest example of experiencing in the exhibition is Eric Orr’s Zero Mass, originally from 1969, a highly conceptual light art piece, with a minimal use of light. And I do mean minimal. The audience is lead to a totally dark, paper-walled room and supposed just to be there. And wait. Which I did. And realised I started to see in the dark. Well, almost. I think I caught a very weak light glowing behind the paper wall. The feeling of seeing absolutely nothing, only daring to move in super slow motion and then gradually getting a grasp of space and being able to move freely, is a tremendous one. It’s a bit like being able to breath the space, all of a sudden. I’m proud of myself for not whispering “Yeeeeesssss” in a husky demon voice to the ears of newcomers, wondering aloud if there are other people in the space. 

No photo, for obvious reasons.

There is no Light & Space exhibition without James Turrell. Here, the artwork is a walk-in installation Aftershock 2021 in his Ganzfeld series. If Orr’s piece made my brains create light, Turrell’s made it create smoke where there was none. And enjoy the colours. I am somewhat prejudiced towards artworks, where changing of colours is the main idea, always fearing the horror of a witless rainbow effect. In Turrell’s works, no fear of such. Random or not, the changes and colour combinations are surprising, deliberate and oh, so beautiful.

Persons standing in a traditional installation art poses in Turrell's piece.
James Turrell, Aftershock (2021) Courtesy the artist and Häusler Contemporary Zurich.
Light & Space at Copenhagen Contemporary, 2021. Photo: Florian Holzherr

Doug Wheeler’s LC 71 NY DZ 13 DW tricks the mind in yet another way. Even if I didn’t quite feel that my perception of time and space was challenged, as the exhibition text suggested, I did feel an elevating airiness and openness of space, which is quite surprising in a very closed, if white, dome. Mentally, I lost at least twenty pounds, the infinite white and convex floor fooling my sense of gravity.

A person standing in a traditional installation art pose in Wheeler's piece.
Doug Wheeler, LC 71 NY DZ 13 DW, 2013
Reinforced fiberglass, flat white titanium dioxide latex, LED light,
and DMX control 556,3 x 1958,3 x 2060,9 cm
© Doug Wheeler Courtesy David Zwirner
Light & Space, Copenhagen Contemporary, 2021.
Photo: David Stjernholm

Art for Gods, Possibly Not on Purpose

It takes me some time to figure if the hovering daisy-colored spot in the middle of Helen Pashgian’s Untitled (2021) is light or matter. Of course, it makes no difference. Even if the word “temple” was mentioned in the text defining the Turrell piece, this artwork reminded me most of a one. The room was the closest I can imagine a modern-day worshipper of Egyptian Sun god Ra could ask for.

Welcome to the temple of Hipster-Ra

Mary Corse’s light canvases seem like potential religious art in my mind as well. Almost all of the religions pay a great deal of attention to light, inner or outer, and it makes me wonder why light isn’t used more often as material in, for example, altar pieces? I mean, light would tell way more about spirituality than a dead body. But what do I know, I’m an agnostic. Anyhow, the glowing Untitled (2019) is a great source of inner peace, even if it was placed in quite a busy corner.

Mary Corse, Untitled (Electric Light) (2019)
© Mary Corse Courtesy the artist and Kayne Griffin, Los Angeles
Light & Space, Copenhagen Contemporary, 2021.
Photo: David Stjernholm

Light, Space, Art and Some Unforgivable Awesomeness

Robert Irwin’s Light and Space (2007) is another edition of his recurrent Light and Space series, rethought for every exhibition space. It is quite impressive here, yes, but I was spoiled in Light Art Space’s version of 2021 in Kraftwerk Berlin. It was absolutely great, so perfect in that space, that any other edition just doesn't do it for me anymore. It really was space as art, not art in a space. Even if I try to tell myself that they are all different artworks, I just cannot forget that awesomeness. 

Sorry, Robert.

Light and Space in Light & Space, where it was light in space

Light and Space in Light Art Space, where it was space as art

So Far Unfinished Web

The artworks in the exhibition are advertised with words like magnificent and gigantic, which is not the whole picture, to say the least. Yes, some of the artworks are big indeed, but there are quite a few ordinary sized artworks as well. Words like that lay out expectations that I’m not sure the subtle, stylish, and delicate artworks of the exhibition fulfil. Nor do I think they should.

There were a lot of sections in the exhibition, like Nature as Material or Architecture and Art. All of these were great themes, even if some were not that essential to Light and Space movement. The exhibition was also a good summary of who’s who in Light and Space, but even there were a few hangarounds – although interesting artists in their own right. The wide scape of themes left some of the artworks quite unconnected to each other, or even to the main theme of the exhibition. 

In my dream world, this would be a crash course to Light and Space, followed by a whole series going deeper in the themes introduced here. 

I would go! 

The perfectly rough façade of the CC

Other People Writing about Light & Space

• Nanna Friis / Kunstkritikk: Quantity Consciousness 
• Jeni Porter / Wallpaper: ‘Light & Space’ at Copenhagen Contemporary: ‘moving art without moving elements’ 
• Veena / Mycafe101 Light & space – Copenhagen Contemporary