The Last Words of a Philosopher
What happens when words become devoid of their
meaning? In the case of the recent "language" sculptures by Andreas
Gehr, where he makes words out of thin, transparent sheet-plate glass, by
superimposing each letter of a word over its preceeding letters, his words
become unreadable. In fact, these words transform themselves, with their
own logic, into geometrical signs. These signs, formed by their vertical,
horizontal and diagonal lines, remind us of the origins of writing. Gehr,
by "silencing" our most fundamental tool of communications, opens
up a whole new set of meanings.
For example, in his Critical Statement (1998), Gehr accentuated these qualities
of "nothingness" and "opposition". Around a large, heavy
metal frame he attached eight glass words. They seem to float. Inside this
massive frame is a void. Here, the content is transported from inside to
outside and presents itself to the viewer as a grouping of mute words.
By "emptying" the work like this he creates a "critical"
tension, not only within the work itself but outside, toward the viewer
as well. Another example, but different again, are his series of Lying Word
n°1 - n°5 (1998). Their collective title plays an important role
in our departure to their possible meanings. This work is composed of five,
black horizontal boxes open in the front and large enough for a person to
lie in. Inside each box is a glass word lying down horizontally against
the back panel. Each of these five words have been carefully considered.
Each word chosen embodies the notion of incongruity, words whose meanings
have lost their value to us.
In otherwords, words which have become "lies". But again, we cannot
decipher these words so, what can we derive from this work? Does the artist
not instead force us to imagine, perhaps imagine these words as bodies in
repose, or sleeping quietly, waiting to regain their meaning, their potential
silently?
Already one discovers in the early work of Andreas Gehr an interest in an
"open" language, where meaning can be evoked by context and not
by associations,
Works like Mein AIphabet (1973), Solitär (1974), Tonband (1976) and
especially his untitled Installation at the Kunstmuseum Luzern, in 1975,
exemplify this obsession. In each case he developed his own, personal free-form
vocabulary. In the latter, twelve steel tables, each 300 cm long, 150 cm
wide and 130 cm high acted to support a multiplicity of twelve basic forms
that were united on each table in varying degrees of density and quantity.
These 10,000 small clay forms, placed at eye-level, "function as a
semantic vehicle which convey meaning only in context. Andreas Gehr is extremely
involved with such sculptural situations, with retaining their relevance
in themselves; they are not to be understood as standing ‘for something’
" .1
Also, in an earlier work from 1969, Gehr tapped into metal the word "OGGI"
(meaning "today" in italian) 365 ¼ times. He created, through
this direct act of repetition, a poetical rhythm of the cycle of time whereby
everyday is a new beginning.
Using his "open" structure Gehr continued to work from this condition
by which new relationships between things could emerge. Over his two untitled
installations at the Ydessa Hendeles Gallery in Toronto, in 1984 and 1986,
Gehr said about these works:
“I see my installations as a network of interrelating points of reference
which emerge as a result of a calculated mixing of elements of incompatible
systems within the same space.
What cannot be combined rationally, however, can be mixed within and beyond
imaginable space. Unthinkable configurations produced through installations
point toward insights which might otherwise not have been recognized or
considered. A preliminary situation facilitating new insights presents itself...
These intersecting points are very fragile.
Whenever they resonate, points of reference2have successfully been established,
a language created.” 2
Later, in the autumn of 1986, Gehr presented an installation of abstract
sculptures made almost entirely of glass. In this instance he directed his
interrogation to "the very concept of the sculptural process. Here,
sculpture as the epitome of three-dimensional material solidity, as a construction
that clutches and creates space, is transformed into a fragile form that
eludes unambiguous perception... These sculptures are based on clearly defined,
logically derived elements that clarify the structure of each work, even
if the eye can barely discern them, as they are - paradoxically - "hidden"
by the transparency of the glass.”3
In addition one can sense Gehr's concern with the fragility and temporality
of existence. This was strongly evoked in his series called Three T's: T;
T; and T/TOD (Dead).
For the first time in Gehr's career he became disposed towards a specific
material: glass. For any sculptor this material would be better described
as immaterial. Not only does he like the contradiction of the material,
Gehr is challenged by its unrelenting nature. Earlier, in 1981, Max Wechsler
wrote that "...Gehr does not begin with a particular statement which
he then proceeds to materialize; rather he creates his work out of a 'void'.
This 'void' is a state of self-evidence, an emotional space, where contradictions
do exist, but also co-exist as equals.”4 In this new phase of using
glass, the artist tries instead to manifest the substance of the "void"
itself.
His work from 1993 and those like Frame of Mind (1995) and Changing Mind
(1995), exemplify this manifestation. In Frame of Mind the glass "framework"
descends, almost imperceptibly, into the centre. The viewer's image is reflected
back but slightly distorted; something has shifted. Changing Mind is another
form of this same potential. This time the "empty" circle beckons
the viewer to activate it. These sculptures are, in themselves, the "état"
rather than the "esprit".
His Untitled (1996), stands out to mark the moment between this "void"-motivated
work and his current "language" work. Here, his soft-white glass
parenthesis embrace a panel of transparent glass and is surrounded to each
side by a longer dark-brown reflective glass panel. As we know, punctuation
is used in the written language in order to make a meaning clear. It plays
an important role between words. In this case, the 'parenthesis' stands
alone, the qualifying or explanatory word or phrase is missing, or left
"open".
In his latest work, Raw Material (1999), Gehr audaciously demonstrates the
rudiments of his unreadable glass words - each letter of our greek alphabet
- storing them in twenty-seven metal boxes, stacked-up like shelving. (The
27th box contains the Umlaut ( ¨ ), the only accent in the german language).
Strangely enough, each pile of glass letters is solid-looking, with a reflective
surface strongly suggesting substance. If one were to take off-the-shelf
a letter, it would almost disappear in their hands, becoming "immaterial"
by comparison to our initial, distant perception. Andreas Gehr hides nothing
from us, on the contrary, he intentionally gives us the "raw material".
Does he not offer, here in his "storehouse", all the possibilities
for both the disintegration and the reconstruction of language?
Sandra Smith
1 Jean-Christophe Ammann, Andreas Gehr : Zur Austellung. Lucerne: Kunstmuseum
Lucerne, 1975.
2 Andreas Gehr, dans: Marcie Lawrence éd., Artists with their works.
Toronto: Art Gallery of Ontario, 1986.
3 Max Wechsler, Andreas Gehr, Kunstverin St. Galien, dans: ArtForum, New
York City, vol. XXVI, n° 9, mai 1988, page 158.
4 Max Wechsler, Das Künstlerportrat Andreas Gehr, dans: Vaterland,
Lucerne, 10.01.1981.
