“Open Call” features eleven immersive installations by emerging NYC-based artists (photo by twi-ny/mdr)
OPEN CALL
The Shed
545 West 30th St. at Eleventh Ave.
Thursday – Sunday through August 1, free with advance RSVP, 11:00 am – 6:00 pm
646-455-3494
theshed.org
In December 2020, I saw Aisha Amin’s Friday, a short film about a historic Brooklyn mosque, as part of the BAM virtual series “Programmers’ Notebook: New York Lives.” Its reinvention as the immersive installation The Earth Has Been Made a Place of Prayer for the fourth iteration of the Shed’s “Open Call” group show is emblematic of the current exhibition, which focuses on works by early-career New York City–based artists that explore ritual, diverse communities of color, and coming together as we emerge from the Covid-19 crisis. Amin’s film is projected on four screens hanging from the ceiling, forming a large “X,” and viewers are encouraged to watch it while sitting on one of thirty-two red and white prayer rugs that face Mecca, as if we’re all members of Masjid At-Taqwa in Bed-Stuy. “My film documents a communal prayer that happens every Friday afternoon in a confined space. It takes place in a room that is small for the amount of people who come to pray,” Amin says in a Shed interview with fellow “Open Call” artist Cindy Tran. “So, I’ve been thinking, too, about what it means to be in such close corners with people. For the audio, I had placed a recorder in the mosque to capture the two-hour prayer, and the amount of coughing and throat-clearing and sniffling and chatter I recorded. . . . Now, it would be a terrifying experience to go there if you didn’t have a mask and weren’t vaccinated, but there’s also something so nice about the closeness of the people in that space.” After I sat down, several other people joined me as we formed our own temporary community.
The exhibition features eleven installations in addition to thirteen live performances that have just concluded, chosen from approximately fifteen hundred applications, dealing with grief, loss, and mourning as well as joy, hope, and public congregation. Ayanna Dozier’s Cities of the Dead is a compelling faux documentary that details Solomon Riley’s (Ricky Goldman) dream of creating “Negro Coney Island” on Hart Island, which was scheduled to open July 4, 1924, before the city stepped in and halted the project. Hart Island was later used as a potters field for victims of AIDS and Covid-19, which disproportionately affected people of color. Kenneth Tam’s video sculpture The Crane and the Snake explores Asian American hazing and assimilation.
Aisha Amin reimagines her film Friday for Shed exhibit (photo by twi-ny/mdr)
Simon Liu invites viewers into a partially enclosed circular space to experience Devil’s Peak, a multichannel audiovisual journey into the troubled city of Hong Kong, a flurry of images with hidden bonuses just outside in one corner. Pauline Shaw’s stunning The Tomb-Sweeper’s Mosquito Bite uses MRI scans, science, memory, and the idea of diaspora in a large, hanging tapestry counterbalanced by objects encased in hand-blown glass vessels. “Autobiographical memory relies very much on the dormant network, so it’s really hard to separate what is happening in your daily life and what is happening in your memory,” she explains in a Shed talk with Liu. “Our notions of self, memory, and everyday experience are completely intertwined. Those are the intricate, scientific details of the MRI process. I’m translating the images that resulted into felt.”
Pauline Shaw explores memory and the diaspora in The Tomb-Sweeper’s Mosquito Bite (photo by twi-ny/mdr)
Emilie Gossiaux takes on anti-disability and anti-animal prejudices and celebrates her relationship with her seeing-eye dog in True Love Will Find You in the End, a pair of life-size sculptures that exhibit both human and canine characteristics shown holding hands. Stand in the middle of Tajh Rust’s Passages to read a quote from Caribbean philosopher Édouard Glissant, “I made an attempt to communicate with this absence,” stenciled repeatedly on two freestanding partially mirrored glass panels, evoking colonialism and migration. You’re encouraged to walk through Anne Wu’s A Patterned Universe, a kind of architectural playground with decorative elements representative of Flushing’s Chinese immigrant neighborhood. Esteban Jefferson pays tribute to a friend who passed away in 2019 with We Love You Devra Freelander, a pair of paintings documenting the passing of one year. Caroline Garcia mourns the loss of her mother in The Headless Headhunt, incorporating the Indigenous Filipino practice of headhunting related to grief, here enhanced with augmented reality.
And Le’Andra LeSeur’s There is no movement without rhythm, consisting of five rectangular screens arranged in a circle so people can stand in the middle, was inspired by jazz and blues and Gnawa male-dominated ceremonial traditions that LeSeur commandeers by filming herself holding objects and grasping her naked body. “I love the idea of thinking about what’s happening right now in this time and how we as artists are really processing and pushing forward with creation as a framework for healing,” LeSeur tells Open Call artist AnAkA in a conversation that gets to the heart of the exhibition as a whole. “And I’m also interested to hear you talk about this kind of collective movement. I think right now, in this time, it’s not necessarily about self, it’s about we and community, how we’re doing things not just for now but for the future. Even if we don’t have the opportunity to celebrate what we’re reclaiming, we’re creating a space for the future to have this opportunity to celebrate. And the beauty in that is really profound.”