"home" exhibition at PAFA: a review by Jenna Buckingham

Getting Home

Hacking into art criticism with a focus on PAFA’s newest contemporary exhibit entitled “here.”

In the spirit of artist and writer John Kelsey’s, “The Hack”, and of the show that is the catalyst for this essay, I am exploring the idea of home, from a subjective and sentimental viewpoint: my own broken sense of identity and belonging.

“here.” brings together artists from 5 different major regions, the Southwest, the Midwest, Texas, the mid-Atlantic and the Southeast. Each artist or collective explores their own regionalism and how it defines and nourishes their practice. In an increasingly globalized world, the show suggests, home, the place where one belongs, becomes more coveted than ever. I really enjoy the way that the artists bring a sense of warmth and play to their exhibits. They take advantage of the idea that their work is not judged based on the precedence set by New York “salon” as it were, but by the standards that they themselves create and define. The result for the viewer is feeling simultaneously alienated from and in kinship with their work. Each of the works represents the artist’s environment or regional culture in which the come from. Though I was not able to directly relate to much of the imagery, never-the-less it was presented in such a way to enable me to connect to the work in some ways. This is sometimes portrayed with the aesthetic harmony of the piece, as in Aaron Rothman’s digital paintings of desert vegetation and Scott Hocking’s gorgeous photographs of abandoned sites in Detroit. Sometimes there is a sense of nostalgia such as the Americana familiarity of Erika Nelson’s “World’s Largest Collection of the World’s Smallest Versions of the World’s Largest Things”, that is pervasive in the exhibit. The artists are able to observe and comment on their cultural surroundings while simultaneously participating and become shaped by their location.

My personal experience with location and home has indeed been tumultuous and I feel that the artists in the show were grappling with the idea of belonging and physical place. I felt a kinship with the journey of their works and felt, both culturally and personally oriented for a moment while I experienced the exhibit. I found that no matter where the artists were from, where they have been, how much or how widely they’ve traveled, they all felt home in the same way. All of us have to learn to carry our homes turtle-like on our backs, so that we can maintain footing while the ground moves beneath us.
I am “the perpetually unseen protagonist in my work.” This thought, presented by Abigail Anne Newbold in regards to her “Homemaker Series” was, in the interpretation of Roland Barthes, the punctum of the show for me. That is, a personal connection that transforms the whole relationship between the viewer and the work. Newbold’s installation consisted of a wall painted gray with several hooks and hanging apparatus supporting various outdoor survival provisions, both modern and primitive. All of the items were either found or made by the artist and color coordinated by looped string for packing into a knapsack which also hung empty on the wall. Larger supplies consisted of a hand-altered sleeping bag and a waterproof jumpsuit with the artist’s initials on it. In front of the wall was a nineteenth century wagon with high-tech waterproof fiber cover in place of canvas. Next to that is a modern, one-person synthetic waterproof tent and finally, a meticulously designed antique-style woodworking bench. She had made herself a survival kit.
She is the explorer and her wilderness is her life. She has laid out her provisions as in a well organized shed might be containing objects that seem to be made for a prolonged nomadic exploration. However, the fact that she was not performing – not there putting on the suit and cooking with the supplies and coming in and out of the wagon or the tent, gave me the impression that while these objects are organized on the wall, she is settling somewhere nearby in an established dwelling. I envision that when the exhibit comes down, she will take up these things again, putting them all into a knapsack, and pick up her wagon for a new destination. The care taken with her piece leads me to  believe that this character is happy in her existence. Each item has been exquisitely designed and purposefully placed. The aesthetic consistency of the items as a group serves to define a chosen place of belonging but there too is an aspect of sadness, that for me, is the main driving force for the work: Everything is made for only one person and her individual needs for survival through solitary travel. The work also reminds me of a commercial line of outdoor gear, designed to entice customers to buy into a lifestyle. It’s not just about sport or recreation, there’s a certain image to live up to. It seems like just another way to get ahead. One can surround themselves with the latest and greatest items in the market, but still end up in a one-person tent alone at night. I think of the ways that we isolate ourselves in this busy, crowded world. We build barriers surrounding us and set up defenses against the terrifying prospect of that relentless threat - other people.

“Homemaker Series” illustrates this estrangement beautifully. I imagine the explorer protagonist and I root for her in her plight, much the same as I am rooting for and encouraging myself through the challenges and hardships of life. I think that when we can recognize that we are all on the same journey, dealing with the same fears and challenges, no matter our individual experiences, this recognition brings us together. There are things in this world that are truly worth being frightened of and that we must wage war against. It is only in our isolation from each other that we are defenseless against these true monsters. 

Jenna Buckingham is a first year Masters of Fine Arts student at the Pennsylvania Academy of the Fine Arts