THE COLLECTIVE BODY

Centuries ago as occidental societies sought to establish order and connectivity among its members, communities acquired a “body,” a material and physical form constituted as a church, nation, or a political structures circumscribed by common texts, such as Holy Scripture. The Collective Body intentionally references this history in its representation of two national bodies, the Czech Republic and the United States, but consequently nationality acts as a diaphanous veil rather than a structural entity to bridge a connection. For when this ensemble of Czech and American artists merge on the gallery floor, a verbal discourse is replaced by a visual language and our respective “collective bodies” fragment. The work restructures into a body fit for the schizophrenic nature of the 21st century comprised of complex, variegated forms that are simultaneously disassembled and reassembled by a multitude of political, social and cultural influences that literally results in a collective identity. Each artist in The Collective Body investigates bodily structures, but ironically, for an exhibition about bodies, the human body is referenced but not exposed. In an increasingly synthetic world, our physical form no longer predicates a holistic self. As the artists featured investigate and question our relationship to these societal and cultural “bodies” through assemblages of materials and personified objects, a collective body of art work emerges that stretches beyond national borders and speaks to complexity of human nature

This concept emerged in Praha where I discovered a group of young artists (freed from the rigid institutional body of academy system) creating a body of concept driven work out of ordinary materials. Initially, the assemblages of mundane objects witnessed at Form Follows Function and Gross Domestic Product could have been dismissed as a late 20th century attempt to elevate the ordinary, but the work was not entirely complicit with this art historical lineage. The objects carried a presence and achieved a strong emotional pull. In walking through Gross Domestic Product, visitors stumbled upon Dominik Lang’s sculptures of cast out furniture and identified by the addresses of their previous owners. It echoed traditional family values in a modern social stratum and referenced the memory of a human relationship. Nestled in the corners of the gallery, Eva Kotatkova’s aggregated sculptures made of flower pots, soccer balls, notebooks and other common objects stirred visual intrigue, but what continued to haunt me is how Kotatkova’s objects seem to have a soul. The collected objects and disparate forms began to personify human relationships and assume an identity. The 20th century poet Octavio Paz wrote that the universe unfolds in the body, but for Kotatkova, the universe is reflected in objects. The objects are extensions of the body that signify an identity. However, it is a shifty identity as the objects could not be coded according to “natural” physical attributes, therefore denies associations with gender.

The lack of a gendered identity made an interesting contrast to Los Angeles’s summer events as this city had been hit by WACK! Art and the Feminist Revolution, which reviewed art made by women during the years 1960-1984. At the Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA), the female body seemed to be posed in every corner of the gallery reminding viewers of a moment when the body was a primary artistic medium for renegotiating a gendered identity. The human body could not be ignored at MOCA, but in the studios of Los Angeles the body had disappeared as it had in Prague or was disguised by various materials. Elana Mann physically appears in her work IBD, but the balloon armature acts as an extension of the body, a prosthetic that heightens her presence as she confronts the oil rigs that scar Southern California’s landscape, and ultimately the reputation of the United States. The presence of the oil rig mournfully reminds viewers the reality as to why this is a country at war. In Cathy Akers work, female figure reappears, but as a “stand-in.” Akers uses sculpy to create dioramas of women who frolic in an imaginary world that has not been invaded or interrupted by political, religious or social bodies that have the power control and tame human desire. Using materials that we associate with childhood, the scene is appear innocent and conveys a sense of a utopia, but quickly this Garden of Eden shifts to dystopia by unleashed human desire. The diorama on view in The Collective Body is part of a larger body of work in which Akers rewrites our social history and a symbolic order from the perspective of an all female world. Currently, the “ladies,” who are never very “ladylike” are in the early stages of evolution uninhibited by societal structures.

Jocelyn Foye’s somatic sculptures not only exude a bodily sensation, but also require a collective effort in their making. She begins by leveraging the history of action-based performances from the 20th century and the concept of the indexical mark as physical signifier of a personal identity. Jackson Pollock made this move famous by embedding his presence in the work with thick imprints of his own hand left on the surface of the canvas. The handprint reminded viewers of the creative act and his status as an artist. However, Foye’s actions and indexical marks are not so self-involved. She does not render a personal bodily imprint, but takes on the role of director as she oversees myriad performers impart their creative acts in the clay. After the performance, the impressions are transferred to silicone, which often requires a team of artistic hands to complete. The resulting polymorphous forms reflect the multiple encounters between the human body and the material, but collectivity continues to unfold in Foye’s work. The bodily imprint also is remnant of an action in a larger social arena – athletes engaged in competitive team sports. In almost all cultures, the rigorous training and endurance required to mold the body creates an affiliation between athletics and personal identity. The activity consumes us and our participation in the given activity becomes a form of portraiture. Foye’s “portraits” draw attention to the fallacy of self-portraiture in which there exists a single image of the self with a holistic identity. In the 21st century, the real is an identity that splits into an image that continually gets refracted to mirror image of everyone else involved in the creative act, the others that influence our notion of self.

Collective identities and bodies continue to circle through the exhibition in various forms. Through video manipulation, Jean Robison undermines the image of the Hollywood body by reversing a famous fight seen from the movie The Outsiders, starring legendary actors Tom Cruise and Patrick Swayze. In Robison’s version of the fight, the film is reversed so that the men no longer throw punches at one another, but dance, prance and hug. It reveals the staged nature of the Hollywood body and an image of masculinity that is cloaked in tropes, thus forcing us to question its authority and our notions of a gendered identity. Jeff Ostergren’s twisted metal forms do not let viewers forget the vulnerability every human body encounters in the hands of a political body engaged in war. CamLab and Rafani literally become collective as their artistic identity is derived from a collaborative effort and multiple members. As a group of four artists, Rafani questions almost every body surrounding them from the institutionalized aspects of a museum or art academy to the political relationships between Czech Republic and Germany. CamLab is the only pair that actually deploys their own bodies to create work, but it is disguised behind costuming that masks their individual identities and extends the body to the viewer’s projections. Sayon Syprasoeuth literally infuses his work with elements of the body as he knits strands of hair together and dips them in glitter to create a baroque effect. In Difference, Tomas Svoboda explores the body of two cars. He suggests that Western society perceives a car to be more than functional piece of equipment to assist with transportation, but that the body of a car is a symbol, a social code that we read in relation to our own identities. As car manufacturers dangle "speed" and "luxury" in the faces of consumers, Svoboda questions what lies behind the price tag of an economy and luxury vehicle. He methodically breaks the body of each car down to its smallest part and archives each piece with text. When faced with just words -- no style or speed -- the car bodies are virutally the same and all that remains is the irony of a social symbol sold to the consumer. And finally, David Bohm uses the body, but only reveals a glimpse of a part both genders share – the bellybutton. He titled his work “ what is not from me is from another person.” It is universal.

When our words fail, the art object has the ability to bridge connections and create new collective body more complex than physical borders or social law. The artists of The Collective Body render bodies that speak not to a single affiliation with a church, nation or political party, but exude the complexity of human nature.

- Kristen Raizada