Throughout the installation process, materials themselves informed our next steps aesthetically and conceptually.

The gallery’s layout naturally encourages exploration. It has spaces within spaces, and areas of different size, shape, ceiling height, and temperature. It is not always clear where to start (in any exhibition), or what direction to take. These aspects certainly contributed to the feeling of discovery and disorientation that was part of the project—for ourselves as collaborators, and later, for the audience.

Core earth elements, such as salt, contributed to the idea of the cosmos—of uncharted & vast territories (of the planet, of space, of the psyche), and other prototype materials functioned as threads, sails, maps, and clues.

Once the previous show was deinstalled in December 2016, we had full access to the gallery, and started immediately once Deborah’s paintings were delivered. We worked on the exhibition every day, in the evenings, and on the weekends. Snacks were supplied and consumed. A critical period of making, testing, and building in the gallery was done from 19 December 2016 through 3 January 2017 when classes were not in session and the campus was closed. The weeks of 9 and 16 January 2017 were particularly intense as the exhibition was scheduled to open on 20 January.

The installation was done in waves. Some of the components were made by the artists in their individual studios ahead of time. (The images in this exposition do not contain working documents or images from the artists’ own studio practices, but from the curatorial project as it developed in the gallery.) Other aspects of the installation were created in the Music Department's digital recording studio or with school A/V equipment. Some of the components were borrowed from gallery staff or other employees, found at hardware stores and retrofitted, or created on the spot.

Materials, elements, and bodies were constantly in flux during the installation process. We aimed to make the space and the objects within it facilitate a journey that was in turns rich and rewarding (with pleasurable and delightful discoveries) as well as destabilizing and disorienting. The movement of the materials mirrored the varying conversations we had throughout the process: in the gallery, via text and email, over meals, and during studio visits: talking + making + moving + testing + thinking. Threads of one conversation would weave back into future discussions. Past strands would resurface in new ways.

Each installation gesture had its own score or sequence of emergence. This slideshow of images provides a glimpse into the evolution of one of the components.

We considered the potential spatial and kinesthetic qualities of the piece through a paper prototype and examined it from different levels as well as from the outside of the gallery. We tested several of Deborah's paintings behind the “sail” (eventually made of scrim and tulle) to investigate: How does it look from in-between? How do you apprehend it from around the corner? How does it appear from overhead? Will the audience crawl under it, walk around? Next, we determined the end of the piece's extension into the front gallery space, as intersections between works and spaces was an important aspect of our ideas of encounter. We continued to tweak the installation in relation to the other works as the installation process moved forward.

The Lamont Gallery is usually responsible for all aspects of the installation process, from build-out to installing the work to focusing lights. Our Facilities Department contributes some components for certain exhibitions when needed, but not for this exhibition. In the case of Clew, the artists were intimately involved since it was a site-responsive installation.

Clew Direct

As part of a few of the narrative “threads” of discovery and disorientation, we wanted to reconsider how objects escape our expectations and can perform in different ways, making the audience perform in response. The gallery manager suggested trying a painting at an angle. We later brought in a futon and flashlights so that people could lie underneath, much like reclining under a starry sky.

We all wanted to touch everything. In a more traditional museum or gallery setting, you try not to handle the art objects too much because of conservation issues—despite the great pleasure and knowledge to be had through the sense of touch. Deborah’s own handling of her paintings and her flexibility in letting us handle them opened the process. This was augmented by our respective, physicalized and embodied/material-oriented art practices. This made moving the material elements of the exhibition a choreographic enterprise: part of the core narrative of the exhibition as much as for the “end result” experienced by the public.