Indrikis Gelzis Latvian, b. 1988
Trial de Posture / Teismo posėdis, 2018
Steel, fabric, gradient print / Plienas, audinys, spauda ant tekstilės
67 x 45 x 4,5 cm
Further images
A text by Dana Kopel who is a curator, writer and editor at the New Museum in New York. Gelzis’s works, rendered in black metal and blue fabric, stretch, bend,...
A text by Dana Kopel who is a curator, writer and editor at the New Museum in New York.
Gelzis’s works, rendered in black metal and blue fabric, stretch, bend, and flex as though they might weasel their way out of two-dimensionality. They’re impish rather than creepy, interested less in uncovering subcon- scious desires than in playfully destabilizing the staid functionality through which we graph and understand data—and, by extension, reality.
These are hard lines. They break up space and delineate geometric forms whose meanings we can only as- sume. We use minimalism now to think about systems—it’s no longer just a matter of reduction, of paring back to the core characteristics of a medium or material, so much as generating a program or map, a set of data points from which some form of technical information might be predicted or inferred. Gelzis makes these works digitally, 3D-modeling the sculptures before rendering them in steel tubes and fabric sleeves. This process—and the fact that the finished works look a bit like hyperactive stock market graphs—might allude to neoliberal capitalism’s impulse to accumulate information-as-wealth (think, for example, of the nov- el and exciting means Facebook innovates to profit off its users’ data).Through it, the artist both materially consolidates and abstracts information into paintings and/or sculptures that appear to map some sort of data but flippantly refuse legibility.
Gelzis’s works, rendered in black metal and blue fabric, stretch, bend, and flex as though they might weasel their way out of two-dimensionality. They’re impish rather than creepy, interested less in uncovering subcon- scious desires than in playfully destabilizing the staid functionality through which we graph and understand data—and, by extension, reality.
These are hard lines. They break up space and delineate geometric forms whose meanings we can only as- sume. We use minimalism now to think about systems—it’s no longer just a matter of reduction, of paring back to the core characteristics of a medium or material, so much as generating a program or map, a set of data points from which some form of technical information might be predicted or inferred. Gelzis makes these works digitally, 3D-modeling the sculptures before rendering them in steel tubes and fabric sleeves. This process—and the fact that the finished works look a bit like hyperactive stock market graphs—might allude to neoliberal capitalism’s impulse to accumulate information-as-wealth (think, for example, of the nov- el and exciting means Facebook innovates to profit off its users’ data).Through it, the artist both materially consolidates and abstracts information into paintings and/or sculptures that appear to map some sort of data but flippantly refuse legibility.