{"id":933,"date":"2009-08-25T09:31:06","date_gmt":"2009-08-25T16:31:06","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/?p=933"},"modified":"2010-02-19T11:14:24","modified_gmt":"2010-02-19T18:14:24","slug":"thinking-outside-the-frame","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/thinking-outside-the-frame\/","title":{"rendered":"Thinking Outside the Frame"},"content":{"rendered":"

September 2009<\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/strong><\/p>\n

Three who dare\u00a0to be not square.<\/strong><\/p>\n

by Caley Bryce Ostrander<\/p>\n

Ian Anderson<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"frame_ian\"You might think you know a person but there\u2019s always something more,\u201d says Ian Anderson, 36, who brushes off pressures to create comfy art in favor of installations that keep you up at night.<\/span><\/p>\n

Cuddle up to Killer<\/em>, for example. Underneath a phalanx of exploding black needles hides the word in type, chilling in its understatement, waiting to be discovered. \u201cYour first impression is spikes. You can\u2019t see where it\u2019s written at all.\u201d Then, almost when it\u2019s too late, \u201cthe second impression is something different.\u201d He was such a nice boy… <\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

Or consider Abandon Your Ideals<\/em>, clean white letters impaled by slick black quills. The message pricks both the individual and society, suggesting the barbed wires we can\u2019t<\/em> always see.<\/span><\/p>\n

Priced \u201cbetween $450 to $1,800,\u201d his assemblages dare to provoke as well as delight, which dovetails deftly with his position as Associate Dean of Academic & Student Affairs at Maine College of Art. \u201cI want my students to think deeply and broadly not only about art, but their place in the world.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

Anna Hepler<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"frame_anna\"\u201cIt\u2019s really frightening on one hand, but it\u2019s also incredibly exhilarating,\u201d says Anna Hepler, 39, of the charge she gets when she\u2019s knocked out with her next new idea. <\/span><\/p>\n

Like turning weather into an object of startling beauty.<\/span><\/p>\n

Gyre <\/em>is a massive, cloud-like structure that hangs downward from the ceiling of venues including the Center for Maine Contemporary Art last winter and spring.<\/span><\/p>\n

Is it a storm, a concatenation of feminine imagery, or a Portuguese man of war?<\/span><\/p>\n

Swept skyward in sheets of salvaged plastic and tarps woven together by hand, the diaphanous presence is illuminated by bright lights on the ceiling\u2013with a little help from ten of Hepler\u2019s closest friends.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIt has this really kind of round, full belly to it, a singular spirit,\u201d the former Bowdoin art professor says, adding that Gyre<\/em> is more than the object itself\u2013it\u2019s the animus it reflects: \u201cThe way the light dapples through the netting, it makes these ripples on the wall which make people feel as if they\u2019re underwater. There\u2019s a glow\u201d that\u2019s shared by both this parturient installation and its witnesses, \u201ca kind of soft experience.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

So\u2026wait a minute. The gallery visitors<\/em>, including groups of children, are part of the seen (see figure in black, left), as well as the seeing?<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cOh, definitely.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Ling-Wen Tsai<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"frame_ling\"\u201cMy work is rather subtle, quiet, introspective. But behind that quiet appearance is something a bit louder. It\u2019s subtle but strong,\u201d says Ling-Wen Tsai, 39, of Portland. Originally from Taiwan, Ling-Wen moved to the U.S. in 1995 to pursue art and now teaches at Maine College of Art in Portland. <\/span><\/p>\n

A multifaceted artist, Tsai has recently taken up film and performance art, most of which feature herself. Her installation Made in Taiwan,<\/em> a videotaped performance, shows her bare back illuminated in darkness with a barcode projected onto it, including the words \u201cMade in Taiwan\u201d at the bottom. <\/span><\/p>\n

During the performance, careful not to show her face, she speaks, \u201cMy name is Ling-Wen Tsai, and I come <\/span>
\n<\/span>from Taiwan.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

She then translates the message in Mandarin as the camera pans out on the bar code projected onto her bare body.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cMy earlier work responds to my transition from Taiwan to the States. It\u2019s about the struggle in the process of adjusting between two languages and cultures and trying to reconcile and adapt. <\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cIn Asia, so much is about respect and community and consideration for other people. Here, we\u2019re more expressive and individualistic. Both have their pros and cons.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n

As her angle of attack evolves, Tsai\u2019s work is accelerating into collaboration with others in her performances. \u201cNow that I\u2019ve been living in the U.S. for a while, my focus is shifting to something more universal.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI started with my own personal concern,\u00a0 but now I\u2019m interested in showing the relationship of the individual to the world and what it means to be human, which is something everyone can relate to. I want to show we should all care about each other and be considerate about others as humans.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

For Tsai, visual arts is the dead-on strike to convey this idea of universality. It\u2019s something we can all understand. \u201cVisual art is a language no other language can express. If we could only hear what I\u2019m seeing.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

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