“Christian Boltanski: No Man’s Land” at Park Avenue Armory

By: James C. Kao

  The vast Drill Hall of the Armory reminded me of the Turbine Hall at London’s Tate Modern, as well as the Grand Palais of Paris; the latter exhibited Christian Boltanski’s Personnes, an earlier permutation of No Man’s Land. I was eager to see how Boltanski’s latest installation filled this new space.

  As I walked toward the Drill Hall, I saw a wall made of numbered, old, tin biscuit boxes and faintly heard an orchestra of heartbeats. The numbered boxes remind me of a library card catalogue, which is fitting, as Boltanski often incorporates collections of objects and/or documents in his work. In fact, his ongoing and upcoming project Les Archives du Coeur will be housed on the Teshima island of Japan comprising a digital library of thousands of recordings of people’s heartbeats. The wall of boxes successfully separates the entrance area of the Armory from the installation, so that when I turned the corner and saw into the rest of Drill Hall, I was immediately immersed in the project.

  Walking into the hall, I saw that rectangular areas had been sectioned off to hold a variety of used clothing lying flat on the floor. In the center of the space was a large mound of clothing, and behind it, a mechanical claw on a crane. The speakers at each rectangle emitted the sounds of heartbeats, which reverberated throughout the entire hall.

 

 
Christian Boltanski, detail of No Man’s Land, 2010. Photo by JCK.

  Looking back at the tin boxes, I imagined the different things that could have been kept inside, such as personal effects and keepsakes, or even bones and ashes. They looked as if they had been excavated and studied at some historical site. The clothing at each rectangular area reminded me of individuals, in contrast to the large pile in the center where the clothing became abstract elements. These areas recalled the moments in history when people lay closely next to one another: traveling by ship, sheltering in an emergency center, even identifying corpses during war or disaster. Boltanski presents used objects to stand in for bodies. Seeing them is like seeing people, and they made me think about mortality because the previous owners of these effects are likely to have passed on. These interlinking thoughts contributed to my solemn experience of the space.

  The soundtrack of heartbeats augments this feeling of somberness. At first, I thought that the idea of a recorded heartbeat reflected immortality, because the heartbeat lives on whilst the original person may not. However, in this installation, the sounds of the beats blend together and became both anonymous and ominous. There is one intermittent beat that is especially loud - as if the building itself has a heartbeat - and it envelopes the entire installation. Although most of the work is placed low to the ground, the heartbeats fill the hall, helping to expand the spaciousness of the work in spite of the sound’s lack of physicality.

  This piece, however, is not without a dark sense of humor. Above the center mound of clothing is the crane with a toy-like claw that descends, grabs a few items of clothing, ascends, and then drops the clothing back onto the mound. The whole act seemed arbitrary at first and even amusing; I was immediately reminded of those games at amusement parks where players lose their money in a repeated attempt to grab some sort of plush toy. I watched this action several times, beginning to be drawn to the moment when the clothes fall. It was beautiful, as if they were flying and had attained a moment of movement and freedom that was in contrast to the static items of clothing everywhere else. 

  No Man’s Land uses multiples of clothing, heartbeats, and tin boxes to create an affecting installation that provokes the viewer to construct people’s histories out of suggestive objects. These were personal effects, and all the elements of the work come together to evoke an overall sentiment of mortality. This work also made me question my role as the visitor—walking through and experiencing an artwork as opposed to just looking at an image—and it made me aware of my own limited time. I am curious to hear and read others’ reactions to this piece because I believe that each experience will be at once universal and personal.

Note: There is a room at the armory where you can record your heartbeat to add to Boltanski’s archive. Also, the Veterans Room is worth a visit.

No Man’s Land at Park Avenue Armory runs through June 13^th

Park Avenue Armory

643 Park Avenue at 67^th Street

Take the 6 train to 68^th Street

Venue Hours: Tues-W and F-Sun, 12-7:30; Thurs, 2:00-9:30

Venue Website: http://www.armoryonpark.org/

 

Comments

[Sarah]

I usually don't like to read about an art exhibition before I get a chance to see it for myself, but this time, I'm glad I read this first. I'm interested to see what my own impression of this work in this space will now be.

[body detox]

ill Hall of the Armory reminded me of the Turbine Hall at London’s Tate Modern, as well as the Grand Palais of Paris; the latter exhibited Christian Boltanski’s Personnes, an earlier permutation of No Man’s Land. I was eager to see how Boltanski’s latest installation filled this new space

[Belstaff Chaquetas De Cuero]

Very, very nicely done!