Just a reflection, of a reflection, of a reflection, of a reflection
Making meaning through the looking glass
I have my share of obtrusive thoughts but this week it’s an ear-worm: Arcade Fire’s "Reflektor." It jumped into my head while on a brilliant morning bike ride this week, after passing someone walking while talking into her phone raised in that most flattering angle of a few inches above her face. A few minutes later I passed another camera-ready performer, also sharing sunny enthusiasm into her screen. And before I finished my ride I saw another person in the same mode of performance. Aside from the tricky logistics of walking with a screen in front of one’s face, I wondered if an authentic, personal experience of the physical world is possible if you’re doing it while engaging through the mediated space of a tiny screen.
I thought I found the connector. It’s just a reflektor.
My nephew, a fine-arts student, just returned from Japan where he spent many hours at various digital installations presented by the Tokyo-based Teamlab “artist collective.” The images and videos he took while moving through the 100,000-square-metre Borderless Digital Art Gallery show multi-levelled mirrored spaces, light shows and walls of sound.
Just a reflection, of a reflection, of a reflection, of a reflection, of a reflection
The several Teamlab immersive experiences in different regions were the highlight of his month-long trip. Is it just for young people?, I texted. All ages, he replied. As these massive permanent installations sprout up in shiny boom cities from Singapore to Abu Dhabi I am seeing a more dystopian view of humanity crowding into these cool sensory retreats from some burning global realities. I scanned the website for any writing on social or political context beyond “Life is a miraculous phenomenon that emerges from a flow in a continuous world.”
Thought you would bring me to the resurrector. Turns out it was just a reflektor
Above: Inside Teamlab's 100,000-square-metre Borderless Digital Art Gallery. Photo by Charley Yandle
I’ve learned to trust the confluence of obtrusive thoughts and my experience of the world. It’s a brain-hurt process that I work through by writing and through conversations that might begin with my four favourite words: “I have this idea.”
I have this idea, I said to a different young nephew a couple of months ago. Soon we were doing photo portraiture in the forest, exploring a mirror’s ability to erase the subject.
Above, left and right: Forest portraiture with subject-negating mirror.
I have this idea, an artist friend said to me last month, and soon I was sewing up a garment from the picture in his head. This became Abyss, a wearable artwork featuring two FaceTiming iPads to create the illusion of a torso with a large hole straight through the back. Performing Abyss attracts attention to the self for having nothing of substance at the core.
Will I see you on the other side? We all got things to hide
Above: Testing the invisibility effect of ‘Abyss’ by artist/architect David Weir (@djweir.art)
I guess I’m reflecting on that notion that is as old as Greek mythology: one’s mirrored reflection is a seductive trap, or a distraction on the path to complete social disengagement. And I’m reflecting on the opposite, that mindful reflection and self-reflection is the route to social engagement.
Crawling out of that trap, or taking a different path, may be as simple as reflecting on the sign on the door of my old apartment neighbour, a social worker: “Don’t just say something, stand there.”