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Volume
II
Issue 11 March 2000 |
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Memo from the World: Richard Serra's Switch by Jack Harries A few weeks ago, I stopped at the Gagosian Gallery in Chelsea to look at Richard Serra's monolithic Switch. The gallery space is a large light-filled garage, painted white inside, in New York City. Chelsea passes for wide-open space in Manhattan - the buildings are lower, and there are some parking lots for van companies, a housing project, several gas stations, and the wind off the nearby Hudson River. Galleries and hothouse Internet companies have been moving into the warehouses here, creating New York's latest dynamic neighborhood.  Richard Serra: Switch, 1999 weatherproof steel, each of six plates 13 feet 6 inches high, 52 feet wide and 2 inches deep approximate total footprint 56 feet by 62 feet Images: Courtesy Robert McKeever / Gagosian Gallery Switch
consists of three pairs of large arcs set on their sides. The arcs
are made of rusty steel. These three pairs are arranged in a
basically triangular shape. The edges of the concave sides of these
arcs, their chords, form the sides of this triangle. The arcs are
tall, thirteen and a half feet high, and lean over the viewer at
varying un-parallel angles. Each arc is 52 feet long and, at its
crest, approximately ten feet deep. The sculpture is made of
weatherproof steel, which is engineered to retain a surface coat of
rust that protects it from further deterioration.  Richard Serra: Switch, 1999 The arcs in
Serra's sculpture are twisted at certain angles, so it is difficult
to tell whether they form perfect segments of a circle or oval. They
lean over the viewer, who can walk around the sculpture, between the
parallel plates, and, through openings just wide enough to let two
people pass each other, into the center atrium, which is fairly
large and quite a nice space. The effect is heightened by the
knowledge that an earlier Serra sculpture tipped over at a Soho
gallery, damaging the building.  Richard Serra: Switch, 1999 The more I looked at these long bending plates, the more I wondered about their construction. In places, you can see vertical seams where the plates were welded together. The arcs sit flat on the floor, which would be difficult to achieve, and their long gradual curves are well conceived and executed. The arcs lean at about a fifteen degree angle at their crests, although these angles all vary. This gives the impression that they are perfectly, but tenaciously, balanced vertically. Viewers seemed to walk through the passages and around the arcs in a state of tension and fear, trying hard to not brush up against them. However, after a bit you get used to them: I stood at the endpoint of an arc, looking into its crest from the concave side as I placed my hand solidly around its two-inch-thick edge, and I attempted to give it a gentle rocking. Of course, this did nothing but reveal my curiosity to others. After observing the angle at the crest and its tilt outward, away from the chord, and contemplating the mass of the arc's end points, I got the sense that the center of gravity for each piece is precisely balanced. These multi-ton objects are perfectly situated within their footprints, (the geometrically enclosed shape of floor area described by the points of contact with the floor). I am uncertain whether these rough ideas of mine about weight distribution are entirely valid, since the shapes of these objects do not lend themselves easily to calculation. Regardless, this installation possesses a tremendous and obvious sense of gravity that impresses upon viewers walking around and through it. The arcs are twisted lengthwise along the sheet of steel as if by a hand-manipulated system of leverage. Their variations are not whimsical or exaggerated, but they undulate above and around you as you walk through, with not an inch comically out of place. It must be quite satisfying to direct the shaping of these tremendous objects. They possess none of the sense of exaggeration of many massive projects. This sculpture is undeniably well-conceived, and simultaneously naturalistic, and imaginative. It does not reflect the sunlight but glows in warm shades of red and blue, in various ways, depending on where you are standing. The iron oxide surface is always changing in response to conditions and scratches or other blemishes. Some surface preparation is evident, but nothing of permanence. The edges of the steel are rough-cut. Talking with me as we walked between two parallel arcs, a friend noticed a singular point where our echoes changed dramatically and altered noticeably again within a section of about three feet. There are probably more of these echo points. She said the work would be perfect in a sculpture garden, surrounded with vegetation, while I wondered whether its dimensions would allow it to be transported by truck to different locations across the country. In retrospect, I realize this could not be accomplished easily. I do not know whether the work was commissioned for a specific space. The Serra installation will have closed by the time this issue of the Newsletter has met with your pixels. I wrote this article to convey the circumstances of an experience with contemporary art - as frequently mocked as it is misunderstood. While it is difficult to talk about "meaning" and "art," I think the meaningful interactions that any work creates are valid terms for talking about the artistic experience. Resources: The following websites have information about sculpture by Richard Serra. This site comes up in search engine results but redirects viewers to a defunct section of the Guggenheim Bilbao. I've included it here in hopes that it will be reinstated: http://www.richardserra.com This site is under construction. I've included it in hopes that it will be finished soon: http://www.gagosian.com An image of a
sculpture from the Torqued Ellipses series: Similarly, images from the Dia Center of other Torqued Ellipses sculpture: http://www.diacenter.org/exhibs/serra/serra.html
About our Correspondent: Jack Harries occasionally writes about contemporary art. His interests range from common objects to classical masterpieces to disputed concepts and theories.
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