Helene Brandt
By Matthew Friday
Where do our bodies end and the outside begin? What are the implications of
this boundary between inside and outside? Helene Brandt's most recent series
of sculptures, "The Assyrians", on display at the State University
of New York at Oswego Tyler Art Gallery, map, extend and question the physical
boundaries of our existence.
Drawing upon her background in dance, Brandt's sculptures imply the movement
of a body through space. Powerful metal ribs and delicate organic lines overlap
to form a complex lattice of welded steel arcs. The body is never present in
Brandt's work, but rather its absences invite our participation. Climbing into
her work, we find our awareness of our own physicality strangely altered. As
is frequently the case, our dream of being and becoming often surpasses the
confines of our own bodies. When occupying a work such as the Assyrians , the
viewer/participant finds herself forced to create new patterns of movement in
order to compensate for this baroque and over-protective carapace. Existing
as two separate but similar forms, the Assyrians invites certain interpretations.
On one hand, the streamlined curves and delicate wheels connote the vehicular;
however, the organic shape and humanoid form allow us to understand these forms
as referencing the body. It is useful to consider Felix Guattari and Giles Deleuze's
definition of the body as a "desiring machine"; the Assyrians are
machines that allow us to perform our desires by extending and remapping the
attributes of our bodies.
When traditional notions of the body as an autonomous and lawful subject fail
it is necessary to redefine the very limits of the body itself. In contemporary
society we find our flesh to be oddly porous and fluid. Even as our DNA are
mapped out with precision, we find our flesh to be constantly threatened with
the penetration biological toxins. While our nervous systems are redefined by
the increasing complexity of the internet, our bodies are taught to conform
to the ubiquitous images fed to us through the media. Never before have we felt
our flesh so penetrated by technology. Imaginary representations of the body
assume precedence when traditional notions of the body fail. When worn properly,
Brandt's sculptures become an interface with the world that is caught in the
process of transformation. The metal armature of the Assyrians gives form to
the hopes and fears we experience about the fluid boundaries of our bodies.
The strange cavities and orifices created by these suits make one feel oddly
vulnerable, yet their metal ribs and protective shells seem to armor and preserve
our fragile selves.
These works make thoroughly ambiguous the separation between the natural space
and movement of the body and that of the machine. When performed through interaction,
Brandt's works become fantastic hybrids, both human and machine, animate and
inanimate. Donna Haraway has discussed the implications of hybrid thought in
her books. Along the same lines, Brandt's cyborg prosthetics lend our bodies
new attributes and describe a system of unique and potentially infinite anatomies
and interactions; in essence, they are sites of possible being and becoming.
