Massive Motion Activated Digital Animation Takes Over Office Walls
Located within the interior walls of an office building in Washington DC is a stunning activated media wall, which spans over 1700 square feet. The wall’s ephemeral display cycles change from different settings and seasons, as the workers walk through the building.
Zarouhie Abdalian’s practice is rooted in the particularities of site and context. Through this lens, she responds to the specific attributes of a given location, architectural setting, or social landscape. Abdalian creates site-specific sculpture and sound installations characterized by an economy of means that tells the story of the surrounding architecture. She performs simple operations on familiar materials to create sculptures and uses quotidian materials to activate spatial boundaries through her installations.
Zarouhie Abdalian (b. 1982, New Orleans, LA) lives and works in Oakland, CA. She studied at the California College of the Arts, San Francisco and Tulane University. In 2012 she was awarded the SECA Art Award by the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. Most recently, Abdalian was the subject of solo exhibitions at Clifton Benevento, New York; Altman Siegel, San Francisco; and Berkeley Art Museum, Berkeley. Recent exhibitions include Simon Preston, New York; Lulu, Mexico City; Prospect.3, New Orleans; and the 8th Berlin Biennale. Abdalian’s Chanson du ricochet is currently installed at MASS MoCA, North Adams, MA through the end of 2016.
Zarouhie Abdalian, As a demonstration, 2013. Acrylic vacuum chamber, electric bell, and steel. 22 x 25 x 58 in (55.88 x 63.5 x 147.32 cm). Courtesy of the Artist, the Berkeley Art Museum and Altman Siegel, San Francisco.
Zarouhie Abdalian, Each envelope as before, 2013. Acrylic vitrine, solenoids, electronics, and steel. 47 ¾ x 70 x 38 in (121.29 x 177.8 x 96.52 cm). Courtesy of the Artist, the Berkeley Art Museum and Altman Siegel, San Francisco.
Set at the foothils of Brazil’s Serra da Moeda mountain range, the Cerrado House celebrates its surroundings with a stunning design and zero landscaping. The soaring height of the main living space’s ceiling is further enhanced by huge expanses of glass, which can be covered on the northwest side by pivoting wooden louvers. Towards the rear of the house are the bedrooms and bathroom, while exposed stairs head up to the rooftop for access to the pool that forms the basis for the rest of the home’s design.
TOP OF THE LAKE (2013) (STRAIGHTJACKET FITS: DOWN IN SPLENDOUR)
(At risk of alienating my mostly non-NZ followers to whom this classic Kiwi track will be unfamiliar…:-))
This was a series distinguished by its spectacular and atmospheric settings. Conventional architectural symbolism was rife, with no prizes for guessing that it was not Matt Mitcham’s messy and architecturally straightforward A Frame, but rather Al’s modernist, minimalist “lakeside mansion”, that contained the truly sinister and duplicitous villian. The show took this familiar metaphor one step further, by providing a residence for Johnno, the most trustworthy male character, that was the absolute antithesis of Al’s sleekly extravagant lair: a tiny 2-man tent.
Student apartment complex Brackenridge is a doll town. Never did I believe in its realness, or that real life, with its ridiculousness, dramaturgy, and tragical-ness (if I may), is possible here.
Monotonous rows of identical houses–something which is criticized so passionately as a trait characteristic of urban development in (post) Communism countries–habitual architectural settings of American urban landscapes. Blocks consist of houses, amy attempt to adorn which would fail for the reason of their facelessness and crudeness. No matter how many flowers in pots you’d put on the porch, no matter how picturesque are forgotten children bicycles left in the middle of the paths, it still is what it is: merely a temporary place for staying (devouring years of life), cheap and practical accomodations somewhat satisfying basic needs–and more than basic, at that, for in comparison with the majority of the world’s living conditions it is luxurious.
I can’t wait until my life takes on a new turn, as it did so many times before, and I will move out of Brackenridge apartments. Not to say I’m not going to miss them, but this is I, I miss everything. For indeed I took it as my faculty in need of development and endless refinement: I rendered a supreme art of missing, my profession. Pining, longing, and regret are the only things I’m good at, but in them, I am unusually good–no one in the universe did it before with such decisiveness, valor, and grief, wallowing in raw pleasure. (That’s the condition of pining: if you don’t feel like you were destined to be the only one in this galaxy to pine ever since the big bang, you are not doing it right.)
Brackenridge, transformed by pink and blue veils of memory, is, therefore, going to appear spectacular and marvelous as soon as it disappears. I learned the mechanics of nostalgia well enough to make this unpretentious prediction. As soon as, but not a second sooner.
Set on a hillside in central Korea, the Shear House gets its name from its steeply angled roof. Viewed from a certain angle, the home’s roof appears straight, but it’s actually set at an angle, creating unique spaces inside. On the bottom floor is a double-height living space, kitchen, bath, and two bedrooms, while upstairs houses a small library and a terrace created by the angled roof. Its sleek interior is dominated by clean white walls and ceilings, which contrast well with the wood floors, wood furnishings, and the hues of green visible through the large windows.