Millie Chen suggests that
spectacle can be destructive, but the shared act of looking, and looking back,
can also build empathy.
Millie Chen, “Prototype
1970: War, children, it’s just a shot away | Four dead in Ohio | I Love Beijing
Tiananmen | Excuse me while I kiss the sky,” gouache, watercolor, ink and
graphite on paper (2016, photo courtesy Millie Chen)
In her new show at the University
of Colorado-Boulder Art Museum, the artist Millie Chen explores alienation and
memory by borrowing from historic images of violence: the site of a coup, a sky
full of military choppers, a university where students were shot to death.
Millie Chen: Four Recollections includes “Prototype” drawings that double as
wallpaper mock-ups, with color scales in the margins for prospective
production, and one example fully realized on a gallery wall. When I spoke with
her, she declared, rather mysteriously: “The wallpaper is insidious.” Chen has
made a drawing for every year of the 1970s, most decorated with patterns
inspired by Op-art (also called optical art) and embedded with recognizable
scenes of violence.
In “Prototype 1970” (2016),
an orange sun sits high in the yellow sky, and its flat rays widen as they
travel from their source — a familiar graphic not only in rock band posters of
the decade, but also in Communist propaganda. (Only Mao’s smiling face, or a
hammer and sickle, seem to be missing to complete the reference.) A swarm of
helicopters flies toward a depiction of Mary Ann Vecchio, a witness to the Kent
State shooting, who kneels in the foreground. In the famous picture from May
1970, Vecchio knelt in front of the dead body of a student, but here only her
shadow is visible. Nearby are 7 men at a public shaming from China’s Cultural
Revolution; rising in the center is a wild mass of Jimi Hendrix’s hair,
threatening to eclipse the sun.
By combining the visual
approach of wallpaper with iconic images of human suffering, Chen seems to
illustrate a warning by the theorist Guy Debord: that spectatorship can
dehumanize the people being watched. In The Society of Spectacle, Debord argues
that spectacle — “the sun which never sets over the empire of modern passivity”
— can be expressed through propaganda, entertainment, or iconography. Spectacle
avoids supplementing a real lived experience, instead becoming an abstraction,
or as he harshly calls it “added decoration.” Once images are isolated and
accumulate copies, he says, they separate rather than unify society. Fittingly,
in the last drawing in the series, “Prototype: 1979” (2016), people are almost
entirely absent from scenes of Shahyad Square in Tehran and The Greensboro
Massacre in North Carolina…………
https://hyperallergic.com/429348/drawing-on-memories-of-violence-and-displacement/
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