Reto Pulfer’s exhibition at Bristol’s Spike Island presents
a mixed-media, multi-part, assemblage contemporary instillation with a
refreshing sense of imagination. Named Gewässerzeiten,
which, according to Spike’s literature, roughly translates to
“waters-times”, Pulfer’s exhibition is made up of several pieces including a
“Maps” series of rough paintings, an assemblage of items under the name Methoden und Spieletisch (Methods and
Game’s Table), and the central instillation MMMS
Reticulum Gewässerzeiten. As I entered the gallery I was drawn directly to
this main instillation, which is partly hidden by the layout of the gallery,
however I could see the beginnings of it: a large net making a curved line into
the room, inviting the visitor in.
The Reticulum is
perhaps, at first, slightly underwhelming. The sense of debris which the piece
will gradually bring to life could to begin with appear like a cluster of
gradually forming art clichés. There are: hanging ceramics hand-made on site
using an obscure firing technique, a pile of mud dredged from the River Avon which
runs next to the gallery (and whose silt and mud is becoming of interest to
artists working locally), and a structure which brings to mind a kind of
haphazard Mongolian yurt. I can sometimes feel the tiresome expressions of the
cynic creeping up on me when looking at instillation art, but in this case, as
I moved through the piece towards the yurt-like tent, the work’s magic started
to descend on me, as if it came down through the swooping net like structure
which, once you turn around, ascends away, up into the reaches of the gallery’s
high ceiling.
These opposing, and notional, motions of descending and
ascending feel integral to the power of Pulfer’s instillation. As one enters the
room the canopy of the net draws the visitor (this label appears to work well in
relation to the piece) down towards the tent; towards but not directly to.
Before one can reach the yurt the canopy breaks off and there, amidst the
hanging lines, one sees a handmade trap (or is it an instrument?), the hanging
ceramics, the mud, and the decorative ribbons which adorn the net. Once at the
tent and turning around to face the way you have come, as if to leave one’s
home, the net works in reverse and draws the eye outwards – past the artefacts,
which now appear much more to be artefacts of habitation (both decorative and
functional, even if their function is hard to pinpoint) – into the outside
world. Reminiscent of that very cinematic motion of coming into the open (that
grand establishing shot – foremost in my memory in this instance is the
perennially unpopular film Waterworld –
or, more recently, transposed to videogames, a particularly iconic moment in Fallout 3 – both post-apocalyptic
adventures), this is then drawn down by the break in the net, towards the
objects of one’s home. We might imagine ourselves checking the trap, perhaps doing
some drawing, admiring our ribbons, before heading out into the world outside.
Coming out of the instillation and turning to the right,
along the corridor leading to the second room, there are a series of Maps
watercolours which Pulfer has painted from memory. They expand on the idea of
building a space from memory – and, as the literature notes, they certainly to
resemble treasure maps; which contributes, to some degree, to the possible nautical
pre-/post-culture established in Gewässerzeiten.
This treasure-map-quality is almost wholly indebted to the works’ rough and
washed out look. This, however, is something of a double edged sword. Though
the ‘Maps series’ thematically works with the central instillation - memory and
imagination are central again here (also, to my mind at least, developing the imagined
“narrative” of the instillation) – I feel, that their composition isn’t quite at
the same level. Large areas of the paper are soaked in watercolour paint while
the buildings and spaces which do exist can tell us very little about their
significance. It’s hard to know what can be achieved through this process but,
unfortunately, I felt Pulfer’s attempt could only display the muddiness or
incapacity of recollection. Perhaps this is a notion Pulfer was interested in.
However, I did not get the same (pardon the term)‘magic’ which, in the
instillation, was derived from the overall care apparent in the piece’s
composition.
In terms of curation the ‘Maps series’ works perfectly well as
a way to lead the visitor into the second room which contains two further
works. This room is excellently put together and - much like the ‘Maps series’, but, in my
opinion, to a greater degree – continues the imaginative ‘world building’ this
whole exhibition seems to be driving at. We find here an assemblage of objects
and processes. Reminiscent this time of a museum exhibition the piece Methoden und Spieletisch pulls together a
menagerie of works by Pulfer, ranging in subject from a drawing of music,
strange sketches, and toy weapons. And just like the other pieces in the
exhibition this assemblage of works seems to draw on both imagination and
memory – making objects which, remembered or imagined, seem to interpret other
objects, works, or ideas in the world.
This exhibition comes together, to my mind at least, as both
a work of environmental storytelling (again, we may be referencing contemporary
videogames here) and one which expresses Pulfer’s driving interest in mnemonics.
It is a collection of works which inspire imaginative thinking and memory (of
childhood, old movies, places). Though there are certainly parts of it which I
feel require further development, it remains a marvellously engrossing
experience to visit.
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