LifeLike Review
New Langton Arts
June 27 through July 28, 2001
Right now I could
use some companionship. The schizophrenia that is July weather in San
Francisco has made me highly vulnerable to depression and negativity.
Considering the nagging allure of my nearby bed, it is a substantial accomplishment
that I am sitting upright, typing these very words. Though I long for
interaction and human contact, communicating in this state is an arduous
task. The idea of encountering a nurturing and caring person sounds good
in theory, but in this type of extended moment I am lacking the energy
necessary to engage with another human. The companion that would be most
suitable is one of the two stars of John Slepian’s video installation,
Incommunicate, currently on view at New Langton Arts in the group
show, Lifelike.
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Unfortunately, my desired companion, a lipstick-wearing, computer generated
and animated amorphous being complete with skin, one orifice, and apparently
a sense of humor, exists only within the confines of computer and television
monitors. Since I first viewed Lifelike, Slepian’s creations
have intermittently made their way into my consciousness. I have vacillated
between disgust and attraction as I have imagined having one of Slepian’s
malleable blobs by my side to help me through this difficult time. As
I expound upon the mass of my woes it would offer its wordless nurturing
coo. And in the gravest moments I would find solace in its minimal anatomical
attributes: warm (I presume) yielding skin, compact size, and a multifunctional
lipstick adorned maw.
I must confess I was a bit shocked by my perverse yearnings, but my shame
intensified when I read Berin Golonu’s review of Lifelike
and learned that she did not experience such ruminations. Her piece presents
a deftly written analysis of Marcia Tanner’s curatorial effort. Golonu
references other current cultural activity exploring similar themes (the
movie A.I., for instance), she provides lucid descriptions of a selection
of the works, and makes a fairly accurate statement about the majority
of works in the exhibition as applied to the title and curatorial objective.
After reading her review, it is quite clear that Golonu was in search
of a more thoughtful and serious examination of some of today’s more
questionable scientific endeavors, and not some lifelike relief from her
own loneliness. The playful approach taken by most of the Lifelike
artists does offer a quick and easy commentary, which seems to say, "this
is what cloning can produce" or "see what happens when man interferes
with nature." The tone of this exhibition is evident just moments after
summitting the staircase at New Langton Arts. The quasi-organic sounds
emanating from several of the works and the prevalence of Legos quickly
alerted me to the jocular tactics embraced by both the artists and the
curator. Golonu’s assessment of Stephanie Syjuco’s faux scientific
illustrations – "comes across as being slightly ridiculous" –
clearly indicate that she was not willing to accept a tongue-in-cheek
approach to the subject matter at hand. I would venture to say that Syjuco’s
illustrations are intended to highlight the absurdity inherent in the
relationship between humankind and technology. Though Golonu is not to
blame for her interest or her desire to have such vital dialogues, I don’t
know that an art gallery is going to be the setting.
As a reader and a viewer I am constantly in pursuit of impacting experiences.
My own predilections are quite obviously geared towards narrative, as
evidenced by the slightly superfluous initial two paragraphs of this review
of a review. Clearly I have gone too far in my recounting of my fantasies,
but I elected to do so if only as a suggestion. A brief anecdote can be
a useful device to lure the reader into one’s piece. I gather that
readers are not so interested in my life or anyone else’s specifically,
but rather in the parallels of another person moving through an exhibition
having an experience.
Lifelike was on view June 27 - July 28, 2001 at New Langton Arts,
1246 Folsom Street, San Francisco, CA 94103-3817. For more information
contact (415) 626-5416 or www.newlangtonarts.org.
