Art begins where information ends.
Upon first viewing, Light Year , by Aaron Robinson appears to be an exhibition of an array of lamp designs of varying formal, material and structural characteristics. But upon further investigation, it becomes apparent that one would doubt the practicality of some these objects as lamps, as they appear to be driven by more poetic concerns than the pragmatic. As a photographic and installation artist using light emitting objects in my recent practice, I can strongly relate to the conceptual, poetic and philosophical potential of this medium. Further, I am interested in how any practitioner can use light to ‘craft' or mould spatial relationships in the gallery or installation context.
In Robinsons's Light Year , light acts as the mediator that connects all forms in this exhibition. Different degrees of luminosity are apparent. The luminous variables result from the combination of different types of lighting and structural housing. Robinson uses halogen, tungsten or fluorescent lamps – all emitting distinctly different colour casts and qualities of warmth or crispness. The structural housings appear to be various treatments of metal – both crafted or ‘found'.
Some of the objects contain light rather than emit it. Their outward emission is minimal; they direct us inward to the material detail of brushed aluminium or spun mild steel or to a detail of light itself – a diffuse, mesmerising glow.
This exhibition also displays a coupling of repeated forms, material bases or structural motifs. For example, Hemi-space Lamp [large] and Hemi-space Lamp [small], combine ‘satelite-dish-like' forms of spun mild steel with chrome plated tungsten lamps. The forms project outward, but their light sources project inward to bounce off each ‘dish's' rounded surface and provide us with a secondary glow. This material and structural combination illuminates the tactile qualities of the material base rather than the surroundings.
Floor Lamp #443 encapsulates a fluorescent lamp in an acrylic tube and mild steel housing. This work also contains light and emits little. Resembling an architectural model of a mid- 1980's building, this piece reveals little of its material base but more about light itself. One can almost project a miniature, internalised life form onto and within the distinct fluorescent glow - inhabiting a clean, crisp and quiet space.
Aaron Lance Robinson,'Floor Lamp', 2004.
Some of the light forms have an outward projection of light. Robinson's Clip Clop Table Lamps [large] and [small] are constructed out of hundreds of ‘stock standard', metal bulldog clips that provide an ordered repetition within cylindrical forms. As the patterns formed by the repeated clips are projected onto the surrounding walls, they begin to distort and sculpt with light's by-product – shadow. The effect is dramatic and theatrical.
These pieces pose an interesting question about the act of making and more specific categorisation within the craft ‘world'.
" In as much as the ‘ready made' challenged
the ‘craftspersonship' of the artist's hand at
the beginning of the last century, privileging
the idea rather than the act and quality of
making, how do aspects of the readymade
figure in a gallery dedicated to craft?
Where
does the process of ‘crafting' begin?"
Perhaps this example is providing a new contextual framework, use and effect for the ready made object.
Robinson's light emitting objects are difficult to categorise. It is difficult to pin point the discipline informing this practice. It could sit comfortably under the design and craft umbrellas, and partially under the art one. So, why do we feel the need to categorise at all? Is it because it is easier to attach a more specific [or learned] type of discourse to the style, object or process we are confronted with? Do we then feel more grounded, located, understood, comfortable? Categorisation can be a useful tool. It can assist in establishing communication links, a common ground with which to initiate dialogue. On the other hand, it can also generalise and limit the potential for dialogue around a practitioner's body of work, particularly if that work is difficult to categorise. Robinson's work sits in this realm. So instead of placing the response to this work in the ‘too-hard-basket', I would like to propose another way of reading work of this nature. This is not a selfless act, as I am merely re sponding to the commentary surrounding my own practice at times!
I shall aim to summarise my ‘take' on the definition and overlapping relationship between the three disciplines. Let us look at these different categories of Art, Design and Craft as processes rather than disciplines. Art seeks to ask questions and Design seeks to answer them. Craft focuses on the making, choice, quality and interplay of materials. These processes strongly overlap in one's practice, and different process may ‘rise to the surface' at different times, or rather, one process may remain dominant. This defines the practitioner's discipline base. Robinson's practice appears to be informed by all three processes, and as he ‘plays' with material and structural combinations, the work sits on the cusp of functionality and poetic licence.
The overall effect of Light Year is subtle. Each form's ambience sculpts another's quietly to create a cohesive exhibition. And though I have experienced varying aesthetic affinities with different objects, I appreciate the overall sensations, thoughts, questions and associations that this show has inspired. It has made me thoughtful of how light can act as a mediator for disparate formal objects of varying materiality and ‘crafting' methodologies.
Shaughnessy, Adrian [ed.], Contemporary Music Graphics, Laurence King Publishing, London 1999
Jo Scicluna
Last modified 13-Sep-2005
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