Dada Pipes and Duct Tape

I visited Water Light Festival in Bressanone one year ago. To commemorate that happy visit and to celebrate the following edition starting today, I'll share my experiences with a minor delay. 

The festival's name pretty much defines its content. The artworks approached water from varied angles: they were about water, imitating water, commenting water, using water as material – or even immersed in water. The connection was not always obvious, but it was there, at least after some brain gymnastics. The artworks were well chosen, pleasing the thirst for beauty but not afraid of a little more challenging aesthetics. The placing of artworks was done carefully, with an eye for environment and its connection to the piece, not just distributed around the city. 

I would congratulate the curator, if I knew their name, but that seemed to be confidential information, at least judging by the festival prints. A major frown from a colleague.

Dada Pipes and other Projections

The projection pieces of the festival were diverse and gloriously un-stereotypical. Even the compulsory church projection was, even if super beautiful, designed with a clear idea and taste. It was a pleasure for once to follow an actual dramaturgy in a projection, instead of a parade of the latest video effects in fast forward. The artist Spectaculaires had a rare art historical approach to the cathedral of Bressanone in their Colours of the Cathedral. The façade of the building was re-colored with hues that have actually existed in history, according to old sketches of the church. Obviously, there was heavy embellishment involved, but the result was quite enjoyable, without one single flying brick or twisting tower. 

Some projection time traveling

Refik Anadol’s Bosphorus was an example of very trendy data based / generated / inspired art, that is especially ubiquitous in video art. Here, the turbulent, cubic but water-like mass is whirling “inspired by the high frequency data of Marmara Sea”. Does it make any difference to my experience that I know this? As usual, no. It’s still a pretty neat artwork, though, and in a very well-chosen place.

Blocks of water

As mentioned in a previous post, Detlef Hartung and Georg Trenz are old pals with Panta Rhei metaphor of everything flowing. In this case, words (believed to be said) by Heraclitus are the flowing thing and the canvas is St. Erhard’s church, a cottage-like building in a small square. Flowing also happens in the readability of the words, fluctuating between clarity and typographic mass. Maybe it is the graphic designer in me, but I found the composition by letters of the artwork enchanting.

Can you read the house?

Sometimes projection mappings don’t make any sense to me. You know, unexplained whales in jungle, exploding diamonds, flowers growing from eyes and sparkles everywhere kind of stuff. But after seeing Peter Aerschmann’s H2O I realized that maybe they are not meant to make any sense in the first place. Maybe t’s all about Dada! H2O was absolutely hilarious, introducing birds in swings hanging in piping systems, golden eggs appearing, faucets made of tree rooting, followed by even weirder stuff even Marcel Duchamp would be jealous of! You really couldn’t tell, what will come out next. How vividly lovely!

A hen with a faucet as a head. Obviously.

Some Proven and Possible Classics

Water Light Festival combined well known, subtle classics of light art, dwelling peacefully by the monastery, with younger generation’s artworks around the city, just waiting to be canonized.

Going to the monastery hoods, one got a chance to see some established light artists, like James Turrell, Brigitte Kowanz and Keith Sonnier, and taste some established wines of the area. James Turrell is presented by a painting-like study of colour, no surprises there. Beautiful, of course. Also, the instalment made me so curious that I took my chance to do some spying behind the scenes while I was alone in the space. No surprises there, either, but it made me chuckle to see that even James Turrell needs duct tape.

Changing colours à la Turrell are my favourite kind of changing colours

I’ve long waited to see a Massimo Uberti’s works live, and now I got my chance. Oh, what a white crispy line galore! In Uberti’s Battistero d’Oro a baptistery appears above an octagonal fountain, marked by its glowing light tube window frames. The artwork balances gracefully between materiality and imagination, the latter building the rest of the building our eyes can’t see. A strike of geniality in simplicity!

A see-through baptistery by Mr. Uberti

The thin blue-ish lines of Senses and Spaces, forming pentagram-like forms on the Franzensfeste Fortezza’s walls, are a trademark of Vincenzo Marsiglia. This was an example of especially insightful setting, the crispy stars nonchalantly embracing the environment as a whole, not just the houses they was attached to. I know the shape is not a pentagram, but it looks a little like one and does it really make any difference to postmodern demons? In the dark I couldn’t tell if the other few persons looming around were underworld visitors or just fellow tourists. Until they started taking selfies. Phew.

There were no demons that I know of

As an example of a more demanding piece of art, Arnold Mario Dall’o’s rugged The Art of Love was everything but nice and fancy. I would even call it violent. Two strong water jets rocked recklessly in a big plexi tube, and I just couldn’t decide if I should tell them to stop fighting or get a room. I’d expect to see this kind of visually and thematically ambiguous artwork in Venice Biennale, not in a light art festival, which makes me respect the (unknown) curators even more.

Lots of water, lots of light

Mysterious outer skirts

After a short hike from the center to a suburban park I notice a man in a boat with a Moon. Sure, why not. A travelling artwork had landed in a pool in the outskirts of Bressanone, bringing Leonid Tishkov’s Private Moon to yet another destination. The previous stops include places like, you know, The Arctic. This artwork is enchanting on more than one level. Obviously, Moon as a person is a thingy of fairy tales to begin with, but a live person sitting in a boat with it, instead of a dummy, is just charmingly mythical. The audience was sparse at the time of my visit, so the piece felt especially intimate.

A man and a Moon

The enigmatic ambience continued in the blue maze of La Maison Flux by Sophie Guyot, filled with whispers and captivated branches. From the images I reckoned this would be another handicraft Hell, but the actual experience was quite the opposite. Haunting and beautiful. A very perfect finish to my tour in Water Light Festival. 

It was no askartelu-paskartelu, this one

Touristy tip

The Hotel Grauer Bäer in Via Mercato Vecchio 27 is a Twin Peaks experience, just without the creepy stuff. Peculiar, in a very good way. The décor is a time trip to 80’s hunting lodge, what with all the skulls on the wall, and of course the huge teddy bears used for advertising, spending their nights in the hallways. Breakfast mainly includes products from a family farm and a cup of damn good coffee. And a piece of cake. Every morning a huge piece of different kind of damn good cake. Prices are reasonable, rooms comfortable and location is great. Not to mention the wonderful staff.

F-light: Hooray for History

A friend of mine once said that Florence is so full of old art that it really isn’t motivated to find contemporary approaches. Judging by the F-light festival 2021, that is true. Most of the material seen was based on old masterpieces and/or shown in historically important venues. And why not – masterpieces are called masterpieces for a reason! 

The festival includes light art, video art, architectural lighting and something I would call Christmas lights. The pieces were spattered around the city, giving a chance to see other places than just the Duomo. Which is – I can't stress this enough – worth seeing. The outer skirts venues were mostly about architectural lighting, the flashiest projections were in the immediate centrum. After six weeks of travelling and feet tired like a prayer of a person fallen asleep (another Finnish expression for you to enjoy), I decided to concentrate on the central area.

The very loose theme for the edition was reflections. I quite didn't catch it while watching the artworks, not in a concrete way anyhow. Except for reflecting the old masterpieces. The theme was mentioned in some of  the info texts, but defined so widely it basically included everything. Also, Narcissus was referred to. 

Judith reflecting future with Holofernes by Artemisia Gentileschi.
Go see the painting in the Uffizi, it's supreme!

There was history in many layers in the projection based on La Divina Commedia on the façades of Museo Galileo and Camera di Commercio (artist unknown). I couldn't quite follow the plot, since I, unlike Italians, don't know Dante's texts by heart. So, I took it as an enjoyable piece of dada art, where anyone or anything could float to the wall next. Reflections by The Fake Factory, projected to the trademark Ponte Vecchio bridge, was more twofold. The art treasures of renaissance took turns with more modern, colourful and abstract images. I'm not quite sure of the latter, though. Maybe one theme is enough for one artwork and in this case, I'd go with history. 

Ponte Vecchio was one of the spots where sponsors' messages and information clips gained a tad too much time for my taste, in addition to being quite unbecoming. I know Italy's range in culture is wide to say the least, but the incessant tacky spacers were more Ragazze Cin Cin than Artemisia Gentileschi. Art is always a question of taste, but I do prefer the latter.

A Dada Commedia

Ponte Vecchio coated with history

Ponte Vecchio coated with colours

Even if history played a great part, the modern days were not totally forgotten. In the Reflexus series of short video artworks by the 2nd year students of ISIA Florence, the historical imagery was mixed with flashes of nowaday people – and some nowaday fauna, in a simple, stylish way. The Stream of Consciousness by METAEXPERIENCE. ART combined Piazza della Santissima Annunciata, one of Medici statues and projected texts, that are all the rage in the modern video art. As are "artificial intelligence and the most complex algorithms", which were used also here, not that it made any difference. Unfortunately, the projectors were a tad weak for the existing light and the texts did not appear as powerful as they could have. 

A person of history

Persons of today

Looking carefully, you'll see the writings on the floor

Florence is a fairy castle before Christmas, with streets adorned with abundant but stylish Christmas lights. Well, as stylish as Christmas lights go. In addition, F-light did its part in decorations, if only in off-program. The Mercato piece by Faniuolo reminds me of some other light works I've seen during my trip, like Valerio Festi's Porte Celesti in GLOW Eindhoven and Famiglia De Cagna's La Cat­te­dra­le di Luce in Ghent. Sometimes these mosaic-like light installations are classified as decorations, sometimes as art. An interestingly fluid demarcation.

Also in off-program there was the Christmas explosion on the façade of La Rinascente department store. A net of lights ran through different kinds of colour schemes, interrupted by a tad artsier animations. Anyhow, this one is easily classified as a decoration, if a splendid one.

Mercato Christmas lights are a tradition

A subtle moment in the Rinascente Christmas lighting

As to the actual light art part, there wasn't too much of it.  As it happens, this was also the most high art stuff in the festival. The most obvious example, Siamo con voi nella notte (We are with you in the night) by artistic collective Claire Fontaine at Museo Novecento has its roots in neon letter art, big in the 60's, having a comeback, it seems. Led lights have replaced neon, though, as they have here. Could have fooled me, led lights are pretty damn good these days. Anyhow, light letter art is often laconic and / or political, and same goes here, starting with the name. Siamo con voi nella notte is a graffiti slogan from 70's, expressing solidarity with political prisoners. The artwork is a comment on closure of museums because of the epidemic, a kind reminder that art is still there, and is provided to the public by all means possible. Like making a square a piece of art by claiming it with a sign.

Subtle art takes over the whole piazza

Even though I’m really into contemporary art, I found the old-fashioned approach quite refreshing and something I haven’t witnessed in any other flight art estival. Maybe Florence isn’t a beacon of contemporary light art but why should it be? In a city like this, full of historical beauty, why not flaunt it proudly – and maybe take a little more daring take, artistically? 

And while at it, think of a more stylish way to advertise the sponsors.

Other people writing about F-light

Ciao tutti: Firenze Light Festival – prachtige lichtshow op de mooiste monumenten van Florence (in Dutch)
Emergenza Cultura: L’anima e l’arte di Firenze svendute a sponsor e loghi (in Italian)

Touristy tip

If you're travelling by train to/from Bologna and want to enjoy the scenery while travelling, a warning: two thirds on the route from Florence is tunnels. Florence-Rome stretch is quite tunnel-y as well, but not nearly as bad. 

****

Spectacular thanks to Niilo Helander Foundation, that has made possible my Grand Tour of Light Art, including the visit to F-light.

Blinded by the Light Art of Venice: Biennale area

Too much art is certainly a first world problem, but it does get real when you're in Venice during the Biennale. In order to survive the emotionally suffocating amount of art in the city, one can start with concentrating on one aspect of art. In my case, that was obviously light in art.

Remembering last editions of the Biennale, light played a lesser part in the works in the Giardini national pavilions. The main exhibition there lacked light in the number of art works, but the sheer amount of it, when used, was often pretty considerable. Even painfully so. In the Biennale's Arsenale site, however, light was widely used. In some cases it took the lead, but mostly it was used in supporting roles. There were also quite an amount of sporadic light and lightish art in the national pavilions spattered in the city, outside Giardini and Arsenale, of which I'll mention a few. The non-Biennale-related exhibitions had their fair share of light, too. A fair, fair share.

Giardini

In my posting about Prague Quadrennial scenography show I briefly brushed the theme of thin line between scenography and fine arts. I was happy to find a reason to smile smugly when I found this piece in the Russian pavilion. The artist was also on display in PQ, which totally proved my point. Alexander Shishkin-Hokusai's coulisse had some more mechanics involved this time, and some whimsical neon light, too. Blatantly old fashioned and wonderful!

I though I could stand any amount of light, with my vast experience with it, but no. I just had to close my eyes in front of the painfully full radiance and walk half blind through Ryoji Ikeda's spectra III in the main exhibition. First it got me really irritated and wondering why is this done in the first place and is it even art and my imaginary child could have done this and after a few hours of pondering I realised I had been thinking quite the essential questions of art. Well done, Mr. Ikeda, but I still hate you!

Venice's own pavilion has lately been quite the Liberace of the Biennale, putting forward everything shiny and expensive la Serenissima has to offer. Luckily, this year it had a more distinguished and subtle approach to the essence of the city. I especially enjoyed the immersive artwork by Plastique Fantastique and Fabio Viale, which grasped both the romantic and melancholic atmosphere of the drowning city, quite haptically, without unnecessary embellishments.

Arsenale

Here's an example of not often seen political light art. Tavares Strachan's Robert Henry Lawrence Jr here and an earlier but similar What Will Be Remembered in the Face of All that Is Forgotten are more or less straightforward comments on remarkable persons, faded in history, most likely because of their gender and colour. 

It was nice to watch the breathing hues of these "corals" and I do appreciate military materials used for art rather than war, but somehow the piece by Christine and Margaret Wertheim was a little too showcase-y for my taste. However beautiful the electroluminescent wire was, it still was just electroluminescent wire. With nice colours. The context, however, brings some content to it: the other pieces of Crochet Coral Reef are handicrafted corals, commenting the great barrier reef and the possible loss of it. This one was taken aside for the darkness it needs, I presume.

Korakrit Arunanondchai's No history in a room filled with people with funny names 5 was another example of the thin line between using video as media or as light. Sometimes the information of image was the main point of attention, sometimes the screens were filled with pure abstract colour fields, making them luminous sources of light. This, of course, defines if the art work falls to category of video art or light art. Which is a question no one but an obdurate classifier, such as myself, should be bothered with. 

Hito Steyerl's piece This is the Future included some accidental light art in the form of most wonderful reflections. And yes, I'm a fangirl looking for any excuse to include Steyerl's work here, even though it's pretty obviously not light art per se.

Here's one example of increasing use of light as material for an artwork. Alex da Corte's Rubber Pen Devil is a hilarious series of videos of Satan and his pals, shown in a neon framed auditorium. The light in itself was definitely not the main attraction of the piece, but it did bring a certain kind of modernist-decadent mood to the space and thus to the experience of the videos. This was not just well designed, unobtrusive lighting, but very precise part of the artistic whole.

Most of the attention in the Indonesian pavilion was stolen by the big ferris wheel in the middle, but pretty soon my interest was stolen away by the light numbers on the ceiling. I couldn't quite catch the idea of them, nor did I find information about the piece. Which probably was there right in front of my eyes. Anyhow, the lights of Lost Verses by Handiwirman Saputra and Syagini Ratna Wulan really got me thinking, wondering even.

Not in any way technically amazing or visually staggering, Synchronocity by Apichatpong Weerasethakul and Hisakado Tsuyoshi wasn't too easy to get, lightwise. I still don't know if I did, since after wondering, what's the light gimmick here, what with the fading bulbs and random general lighting, I realised there isn't one. By then I was far too mesmerised by the piece for not liking it so, yeah, I could say it really caught me. 

Even though Saules Suns by Daiga Grantiņa in the Latvian pavilion didn't include light wow effects either, the quasi sloppy untidiness felt a bit arrogant to me – even though there was something interesting in the use of light, when I really put my mind to it. I'm all for messiness, that's not the problem, but I quite felt like someone is inventing the wheel again and making it crappy on purpose.

I do love me some good neon allright, but this particular work by Gabriel Rico, I think, was in a wrong environment in the hallways of Arsenale. The placement made the work seem diminished, something taken to the corner, out of way. The surreal in the art work was nullified into awkward by mere misplacement. That's a bummer, since mr. Rico seems very interesting artist, especially by his use of light.

Hypersonic Hyperstitions by Marko Pelhjan of the Slovenian pavilion was probably one of the most photographed pieces in Arsenale. It was also one the pieces whose message was lost on me. Later Google told me all kind of interesting ideas about hypersonic weapons and stuff, but at the site all I could think of was a vehicle commercial from Galactica. Or this: 

There seems to be a certain trend in the use of light in contemporary art, which could be called souvenirism. The light emitting materials used in this kind of art include, indeed, actual blinking souvenirs, but also motley selection of other shiny bric-a-brac. 

Here's just two examples of many: Lee Bul's Aubade and Tracey Snelling's Shanghai/Chongqing Hot Pot/Mixtape. See also Thailand's pavilion, later. Snelling "gathers information through the process of wandering, observing, participating and documenting", which is pretty much what tourists do, and thus matches my self-invented -ism perfectly.

After the long walk of multi layer of meta levels art pieces in the Arsenale's never ending corridor, it was a relief to see some sunlight. Call me easy, but I enjoyed tremendously A Place without Whence or Whither by Chen Qi, an outdoors extension of Chinese pavilion. The idea was simple, pretty much from a course of lighting design for beginners: holes in surface where the light gets through and makes nice patterns on the other surface. That's what we do in theatre all the time. The work really was border line kitschy, but it didn't try to disguise in any kind of deeper philosophy, which I do appreciate. It was what it was. Just lovely!

See also:
Blinded by the Light Art of Venice: Other National Pavilions
Blinded by the Light Art of Venice: Other Exhibitions

Blinded by the Light Art of Venice: Other National Pavilions

These days, a lot of interesting Venice Biennale stuff is to be found outside the official exhibition. Here are some interesting examples, light wise.

Thailand's pavilion is situated right in front of Giardini, in a restaurant. Or, more precisely, in a room between the dining area and the kitchen. It's a blatant collection of souvenir kitsch, lit with equally kitsch ever changing LED lighting. Restaurant patrons looking for a toilet and staff looking for patrons who are looking for toilet give the exhibition experience an extra layer of dead pan comical je ne sais quoi, which couldn't possibly be created on purpose. Highly recommended experience!

I have a soft spot for Azerbaijan after teaching some very talented and wonderful art students there, and I admit that otherwise I wouldn't probably have visited Azerbaijani pavilion in the first place. I'm glad I did, since there was some fractal style light meditation to be found there, in the shape of giant ever changing ring Globe by Kanan Aliyev and Ulviyya Aliyeva. I'm not surprised that the name of Aliyev was ever-present, since nothing in Azerbaijan seems to happen without an Aliyev, the president Ilman, his relative, or at least Heydar Aliyev foundation, founded to celebrate the memory of previous president, the father of the present one.

I wonder when I'll learn to schedule my art staring trips so that I'm not totally overwhelmed by the share mass of art seen. Probably next year. Always the next year. Anyhow, in between all the full packed exhibitions, Montenegro's quite minimalistic pavilion, An Odyssey by Vesko Gagović, was a much welcomed piece of mental reboot for me. The few large boxes with light glowing from beneath disturbed my sense of gravity in a most pleasurable way. As I lingered between them, other visitors came in, and I could read their minds: "Oh, boxes" as they exited right away. What's wrong with people these days! They were AWESOME boxes!

See also:
Blinded by the Light Art of Venice: Biennale area
Blinded by the Light Art of Venice: Other Exhibitions

Blinded by the Light Art of Venice: Other Exhibitions

Besides the official Venice Biennale pavilions, there are loads of other high and low rank exhibitions to see as well. It's nice to see the old and middle aged masters, but it's even more fun to stumble upon exhibitions of talented young artists, unable to advertise with larger than life ads along the canal. The latter did not include that much of light art this year, so not many mentions here, but take my word!

Dysfunctional in Ca d'Oro was a quite interesting hybrid of art and design. Light was present in many forms, mostly as lanterns and reflections. The interactive mirrors of Audience by Random International followed the visitor, who all of a sudden found herself to be pretty much in the center of everything. In addition to that, most beautiful reflections when Sun is shining. The oil-like colourful reflections of the venetian windows on the surface of the glass bubbles, called Moments of Happiness, by Verhoeven twins, are just perfect excuse to post photos of the said, quite cliché, windows. Because it's art, you know.

Visiting palazzo Fortuny is one of my musts in Venice. Not only for the usually interesting exhibitions there, but also for Mario Fortuny. When discussing mr. Fortuny with two friends of mine, I first mentioned that he was a big shot in the history of lighting design, then a couture interested friend added that he also invented bias-cut and the third friend asked if he was the same guy who designed the pattern of their couch pillows. Well, yes he was. Quite a multi talent man.

One of the most famous of his inventions (at least among the three people in the world interested in the history of lighting design) is the dome theatre with almost a realistic sky, pictured above. Also, the downstairs gate to canal usually is involved with some kind of lightish art. Now on display there was Fuori Tempo, a simple colour field work with gels by Francesco Candeloro.

Reagents in Complesso Ospedaletto displays some neon art by Arthur Duff. There's always room for one more work with neon letters, but the staircase of Ospedaletto really makes the visit worth while.

According to my social media flow, Yannis Kounellis seemed to be one of the hits of this year. I have to say I quite liked the exhibition, but more from an art history perspective than my own personal liking. The insta friendly golden wall was quite impressive, but the flame series was more of interest for me. First I though the propane tanks were purely conceptual, but then the guards announced that they were to be set ablaze in a moment and I felt so privileged to see that. Such a joy to see thematic, not just decorative use of light.

The Personal Structures series of exhibitions in palazzos Bembo and Mora and outside in Giardini della Marinaressa was probably my favourite. Loads of different techniques and styles, even more rooms to endlessly follow each other and some works interesting also light wise. For example Footprints, the light tube work by Wild Flag Studios animates the tubes according to current immigration data. Already the second example of political light art here. 

I think Daniel Pesta's Top Secret Chain also quite falls into this category, with its shady bunch of important men alighting their hands and stomping the fire out in turns, quite ritually. Kouji Ohno's Quantum Fluctuation was pretty interesting, but then I read the info plate and the work was spoiled by way, way too much and too detailed information. You just don't start with science lecture, add all kinds of philosophies, throw in some human existence and end up by describing what can be plainly seen. You just don't.

In Punta della dogana's Luogo e Segni exhibition, light was present in more conceptual forms. The dead-yellow greenhouse lights of Mesk-ellil by Hicham Berrada emphasised the artificial effect of light rather than its beauty while Roni Horn's huge, visually intriguing glass objects of Well and Truly changed elementally according to the position of Sun. Yes, I waited quite long a time to be sure. Then there was the chandelier We Are In Yucatan And Every Unpredicted Thing by Cerith Wyn Evans, a big name in light art. I enjoy a low hanging, abundant, Murano-style chandelier as much as the next guy, but the artistic idea of this piece escaped me. Maybe it's because I've seen approximately gazillion flickering bulbs before, with or without a chandelier. 

See also:
Blinded by the Light Art of Venice: Biennale area
Blinded by the Light Art of Venice: Other National Pavilions