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Dré Wapenaar, "Treetent." Courtesy Laumeier Sculpture Park
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Photograph by Byron Kerman
Dré Wapenaar, "Treetent"
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Photograph by Byron Kerman
Dré Wapenaar, "Treetent"
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Photograph by Byron Kerman
Oliver Bishop-Young, "High Rise"
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Photograph by Byron Kerman
Oliver Bishop-Young, "High Rise"
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Photograph by Byron Kerman
Oliver Bishop-Young, "High Rise"
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Photograph by Byron Kerman
Oliver Bishop-Young, "High Rise"
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Photograph courtesy of Laumeier Sculpture Park
BGL (Jasmin Bilodeau,Sébastien Giguère, and Nicolas Laverdière), "Le Bucher"
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Photograph courtesy of Laumeier Sculpture Park
Edgar Martins, "This is Not a House"
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Photograph courtesy of Laumeier Sculpture Park
Michael Rakowitz, "paraSITE"
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Photograph courtesy of Laumeier Sculpture Park
Emily Speed, "Inhabitant (St. Louis)"
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Photograph courtesy of Laumeier Sculpture Park
Cyprien Gaillard, "Pruitt-Igoe Falls" (still)
"Camp Out: Finding Home in an Unstable World," currently on view in the indoor galleries and outdoor spaces at Laumeier Sculpture Park, is a smart, fun, provocative show. Let us to explore...
Emily Speed's "Inhabitant (St. Louis)" is a cylindrical surface dotted with mini-replicas of local landmarks and architecture that can actually be worn as a massive costume. The meticulous work is impressive, and surely a statement on the overlap where the individual meets the community, but truly, it's hilarious. Think of the dancing cigarette pack with a young woman's legs poking out from beneath, but imagine instead a giant hunk of art-world gravitas strapped onto the same gal, nearly blinded from her ridiculous costume.
Edgar Martins' large-scale photographic prints of foreclosed homes—some of them brand new and even unfinished—are a clear political kvetch in the wake of the American housing-market disaster, but they also possess that haunted, empty, contemplative quality of places in mid-decay.
Cyprien Gaillard's video loop of a structure imploding, revealing a beautiful waterfall that had been obscured behind it, is an indictment of our tragically rectilinear, eyesore architecture. It's complicated by the cemetery in the foreground, which makes our earthly folly seem that much sharper and more hopeless.
The BGL collective (Jasmin Bilodeau, Sébastien Giguère, and Nicolas Laverdière) created a showstopping set of translucent plastic flames, which seem to engulf whatever they're placed before in fire. They're both kitschy and beautiful, with the light streaming through them and creating multicolor effects. They also seem to connote the idea that disaster is de rigeur, and can be compartmentalized into a tidy assemblage and stored in a corner—a metaphoric corner, perhaps, where, in time, we manage to forget even the most dramatic of interruptions.
Isabelle Hayeur's series of slow-paced videos include a bit where she lingers at a series of thoroughly drab and depressing apartment complexes that should be familiar to the average working journalist (or artist). It would make for a good photo exhibition, as well.
Oliver Bishop-Young's "High Rise" is something to see, and all by itself is reason enough to catch this show before it disappears in mid-September. The British artist has stuffed a large, barge-shaped dumpster with a series of intricately arranged branches, twigs, pinecones, stumps, and other natural dross peeking forth from altered wooden furniture pieces. The effect of piling up so much natural matter, organizing it by type, and displaying it as if within one of those hyper-organized, designer closets, is one of awe. The work reminded me of "Silent Running," the classic sci-fi film in which cosmic arks loaded with the final exemplars of earthly botany roam the spaceways.
Michel Rakowitz's "paraSITE" is a work that's gotten a lot of play in art circles all over the globe (it's even been in one or two other group exhibitions in St. Louis in the past). That's because it's a simple, elegant way to keep homeless people warm on the streets in winter. A series of plastic bags taped together like a worm are affixed at one end to a building’s exterior heating vent (not spewing toxic fumes, of course), and to a plastic tent at the other. The ease with which this sort of problem can be remedied -- urban cops and lawmakers permitting, that is -- points up the folly of homelessness in the first place. In other words, if we can seriously comfort the indigent this readily and cheaply, we should be ashamed of not comforting them, the work implies.
Dre Wapenaar's "Treetent" is triumph of design. The adorable, teardrop-shaped canvas-and-wood structure is clamped to the side of a large tree. You can climb a ladder and peer inside. Its cleverness takes on a different cast when you read the exhibition materials, which explain the temporary dwelling was actually used during a "tree-sit" protest, in an attempt to stop developers from leveling an old-growth tree.
"Camp Out," is on view through September 16. You should leave your home, check out the show, ponder the concept of home, then return to your home.
A spate of activities mark the upcoming end of the exhibition:
Order the "Laumeier Special" at Robust Wine Bar & Cafe, Kakao Chocolate, and O'Leary's Restaurant & Bar from August 30 to Sept. 6, and a portion of the tab goes to support the sculpture park.
Schlafly Bottleworks offers a special Sunday Brunch menu September 2 from 11 a.m. to 2 p.m.; a portion of the tab goes to Laumeier.
There are also several events on September 7, 8, and 9. "Camp Out Weekend," kicks off with a panel discussion at Webster University on Friday afternoon, followed by a Community Picnic hosted by artist Kim Yasuda, whose "Hunt + Gather" installation included chickens and a small kitchen garden. Visitors are encouraged to bring their own picnics, but Yasuda will also present food and recipes gleaned during her Laumeier residency. Later that night, Michael Rakowitz leads ghost-story-tellings on the front lawn. On Saturday, there's a 21+ campout in the park, including trail-hiking, a campfire chat, stargazing, and for a lucky few, the chance to sleep in "Treetent."
Here's a visual jogging tour of the show, but we encourage you to experience its full power by seeing it in person:
