Arthur Ganson Solo Exhibition
Ulm
Professor Lucy Kim
Critical Theory II
1 March 2017
Arthur Ganson Solo Exhibition
For over two decades, “Gestural Engineering,” a solo exhibition of Arthur Ganson’s work at the MIT Museum, has been invoking wonder, interaction, and contemplation. In Ganson’s own words, “the objects are part of a cycle. I take an idea from my heart, but it is not complete until you have seen it, and found your own meaning in it” (“Gestural Engineering”). Indirectly, he notes a third voice, alongside artist and viewer, which is forcefully present in the cycle; the objects are more than the end products of Ganson’s concept and of greater significance than elements simply to be seen by the viewers. Rather the materiality of these physical, kinetic sculptures command attention and demand certain acknowledgement quite dissimilar to our associations with paint, film, or monitor. Ganson’s choice of materials results in an exposed mechanism, an object entangled with the viewer, as both are beholden to the rules of physics, gravity, and energy; and yet his work often asks the audience to choose to trust in either this voice of the material or the seeming defiance of such laws presented in the pieces’ movements.
“Machine with Oil” draws attention with its striking combination of materials — manufactured steel and brass components bathed in rich, black, viscous oil. The work comprises precisely cut metal gears, rods, screws, sheaths, roller chain, oil trough, and a machined loading bucket. Each component appears crafted to specification to fit within the work and engineered to interact flawlessly with every other piece, so much so that it becomes impossible to tell which element came first, informing the others. This sculpture, in its endless cycle of self-lubrication, suggests a perfect measurement of balanced formulas which continuously invites inquisitive viewers to contemplate how to solve the puzzle, as surely Ganson must have.
To some extent though, this is a mythology, just as all of Ganson’s kinetic works in this exhibit reference perpetual motion — that Philosopher’s Stone of mechanical engineering. While a preliminary viewing makes one envy Ganson’s precision, eventually one may instead start to question the role of the unseen electric motor powering the rotations. Viewers may note the lack of lubrication in all the other exhibits, each with similar apparati performing their own dances, hinting that perhaps the rich liquid is not a necessity after all. Instead, could that controlled movement of the bucket from trough to apogee back to trough be a sensual indulgence or even more simply, a beautiful pattern devoid of human emotion?
This play with the perception of cause and effect is evident in many of Ganson’s pieces on exhibit, suggesting his general playfulness and yet open to more somber interpretation if one begins to investigate the materials. “Machine with Wishbone” plays out an equally unsettling drama, one in which it must accommodate its own powerless leader until its inevitable demise. Certainly a Sisyphean routine, but adding insult to injury, the contraption is designed to promote the seemingly astonishing ability of the wishbone to transport the mechanism, when in fact it is the working of the various cogs which provide the recognizable gait and illusion to the bone. Ganson again utilizes refined rods and gears, all cleanly manufactured and crafted precisely to holistic effect. In this piece, the metal is predominantly delicate, thin, coiled and bent rather than soldered. In place of the slow trace of large gears, tension plays a more prominent role as springs and knotted string store and release power throughout the perfectly timed cycle of choreography. Scale is vital to this illusion, for though the metal contraption appears delicate, it is enormous in relation to the small, weathered, singular wishbone, reflective of its formidable task. Ganson states it is a symbiotic relationship, yet close inspection of the materials reinforce the evidence for crafted illusion (Ganson). The act of authored fiction is further reinforced when he notes, “this kind of work is also very much like puppetry, where the found object is, in a sense, the puppet, and I’m the puppeteer at first, because I’m playing with an object. But then I make the machine, which is sort of the stand-in for me, and it is able to achieve the action that I want” (“Arthur Ganson Makes”).
MIT seems the perfect home to these ingenious sculptures, just as Ganson’s eclectic interests help to explain the unique mixture of themes and points of discussion embodied in his pieces. While Ganson has a degree in art history, his engineering skills are self-taught, and he himself notes that his childhood ambition to be a surgeon remains influential to his work. While his engineering feats are undeniable, one must take a close look at the delicate nature of the wires and their deft connections to recognize his masterful operating skills. He also cites choreography as an inspiration, which is particularly apparent in “Gestural Engineering,” as the kinetic nature of his sculptures are designed for narrative and visual effect just as body movements are in dance. Furthermore, his interest in metaphysics seems to inform his work: “the physical object is just the in-between point that allows for the infinite in both me and the viewer to meet” (“Profile: Arthur Ganson”). Here again, he notes the role of the viewer in the cycle while also citing the importance of the object itself. This relationship triad is most evident in the interactive pieces which reinforce the role of artist’s intent, viewer participation, and the physical nature of the materials in either the creation or the reveal of illusion.
A number of pieces in the exhibit require viewer interaction: a pedal press used to complete the circuit or the unique rhythm of a human hand crank to engage the gears and actuate the movement of energy. A few pieces however, rely on even greater physical engagement: “Inchworm,” for example, necessitates a participant to push the piece around the exhibit space following a suggested path on the floor. The piece consists of a metal cart frame, gears, rods, wheels, and a steel plate on top which is covered in a soft, furry, blue material. Also on the plate are three mechanical tubes connected down through the fluff to the various contraptions delivering the power originating from the turn of the wheels, itself a transfer of human energy. Here the cycle becomes complex: it is one of artist intention, followed by machine as stand-in, then viewer as artist through interaction, and finally participant as machine following the prescribed path. Ganson uses the title to suggest the viewer perceive the gestures of these plastic mesh tubes connected to hex bolts as the undulating crawl of living creatures. Is this playfulness, or is the participant bound to drudgery for the sake of other viewers? Does participation help one to believe in the illusion while immersed in it, or does it provoke contemplation regarding mechanical engineering?
There is one work in this exhibit which at first glance appears alien. It does not invite the viewer to participate, offer an obvious illusion, nor hide any of its workings, and the stone cube at the end of the long line of gears remains still, unlike the worms, the oil, or the wishbone. Fortunately, its card offers an explanation: “It will take the motor, coupled with the reduction gears, 13.7 billion years (the estimated age of the universe) to complete one rotation of the concrete block.” The description helps to situate the piece back within the context of the exhibit and in relation to the cycle of artist, viewer, and object. Certainly “Beholding the Big Bang” creates that singularity that Ganson speaks of, the merging, upon viewing the object, of the infinite in all of us. The physicality of the solid gears, the nature of the mechanics which have been calculated to turn in these precise movements, and the heaviness of the piece both in material and length, all suggest an object built to last. Upon closer inspection and consideration though, questions regarding Ganson’s piece surface. How long will the exhibit be housed or the gears last, and how can one validate the rotation of the cube? The viewer may come to reflect upon her own mortality and limitations, those of the artist, and even those of the materials themselves, and perhaps that connection allows one to reconsider mortality as limited to the material realm.
“No matter what my imagination or dreams or hopes or thoughts are, the real world will always respond and move in the way that it does” (“Profile: Arthur Ganson”). Here Ganson admits the role of the object in each piece — as the voice of the material bound to the laws of the universe. The exhibit is a powerful experience whose pieces are cohesive in theme, materials, and spirit; yet each is filled with individual whimsy and perplexing puzzles. Some will find playfulness, many will discern a poignant personification, and still others will take comfort in the purely mathematical, ultimately realized in the physical.
Works Cited
“Arthur Ganson Makes Moving Sculpture.” TED Talks, www.ted.com/talks/arthur_ganson_makes_moving_sculpture. Accessed 14 February 2017.
Ganson, Arthur. arthurganson.com/project/machine-with-wishbone. Accessed 14 February 2017.
“Gestural Engineering.” MIT, web.mit.edu/Museum/exhibitions/ganson.html. Accessed 10 February 2017.
“Gestural Engineering: The Sculpture of Arthur Ganson.” MIT Museum, Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1995 – 2017.
“Profile: Arthur Ganson.” MIT Museum, mitmuseum.mit.edu/profile-arthur-ganson. Accessed 10 February 2017.