
By Ines Min
Like a bound tome of a coffee table book ― but without the negative connotation or laymen superficiality ― the vibrant work of American artist Sarah Morris is one that inspires conversation.
``I was more interested in the subject matter of the overlap between politics, architecture, industrial design, communication theory,’’ Morris told reporters last week at Gallery Hyundai, central Seoul, when asked about the beginnings of her art career. ``All of these areas of interest, to me, trying to look for a stripped down or streamlined way to have this conversation with the viewer, or with myself, about these subjects in society.’’
The artist ― who dabbles in both paintings and video, and is also known for public installation work ― is opening her first solo exhibition in Korea at the gallery until Sept. 26. ``Clips, Knots and 1972’’ is comprised of a new body of work from the artist and a previous video documentary made about the 1972 Munich Olympics.
Morris’ work can be recognized by its geometric sentiment and simplicity, yet carries a world of complexities and symbolism within. Starting from the relatively simple shapes of clips and knots, the exhibition extrapolates on the subjects to become a commentary based on the ``ready-made’’ forms of the world.
``Both the knot and the paperclip have many permutations, many forms that have been already thought out and constructed,’’ she said. ``I liked the idea of appropriating these existing forms for my own vocabulary to talk about bureaucracy and the provisional nature of things, and of planning itself.
``The film `1972’ is about this gap between planning and reality and, if you like, the failure of a system planning, that you really can’t be in control, on this level,’’ Morris added, referring to the kidnappings of Israeli athletes during the highly-televised event.
Morris’ meticulous, analytic nature results in highly thought-out, intentional works, which carry significance down to the vast color palette that combines such well-matched tones as aqua blues with olive yellows and pale tangerines, hues familiar yet placed in a new setting.
``This is another reason why I use household gloss paint, because the colors are ready mixed, ready-designated, and I look for those colors I’ve seen already in society ― as opposed to inventing a color,’’ she said. ``The paintings quote color from social context.’’
The 43-year-old speaks each sentence in a careful manner, precisely, and peppered with sharp, humorous sound bites, able to call the Olympics an ``extreme form of capitalist spectacle’’ and also declare her medium of choice ― gloss paint available from any hardware store ― the ``least fetishistic form of paint.’’
The straightforward honesty of Morris and the materials she uses might stem from her background; the artist is a graduate of political philosophy and film theory.
``It’s just the idea that you can do it yourself,’’ she said. ``It’s actually more tricky than traditional paints, but I like that idea that anybody can buy this paint.’’
``I don’t view things in this sort of precious way because I didn’t study art.’’
Not that she’s ignorant of art history, and her simplicity follows in the tradition of many contemporary artists, including Andy Warhol, Donald Judd and Roy Lichtenstein.
However, in the end, Morris’ artwork is about communication and the depiction of the world around an individual.
``How I would describe the idea that I am confronted with by this sort of visual image of my work, is that I have the feeling that you’re confronted by the fact that you’re part of a larger system,’’ she said. ``You’re not aside from it, you’re looking at it, you’re sort of uplifted by it ― perhaps repelled by it ― but there’s this sort of reckoning that there is no outside.
``You’re just part of this whole, and that’s quite an emotional state to be in.’’
Morris’ work on the 2008 Beijing Olympics can also be viewed at Media City Seoul through Nov. 17, at the Seoul Museum of Art.