Monday, November 3, 1997
Sex objects come together as art
ART
By Vanessa VanderZanden
Daily Bruin Staff
Dental dams spilling from a wide variety of wall hangings.
Condoms lurking in the mirrored drawers of a hand-crafted box.
Jellies and lubricants – everywhere.
Beyond a doubt, these much-publicized objects of recent years
can be easily seen as a means of practicing safe sex. However, when
displayed in varied forms at the Side Street Projects gallery in
Santa Monica, the materials take on new meaning. Running through
Nov. 15, the show "Splice" provides powerful commentary on the
existing careful sexual environment of the AIDS-wary ’90s.
With 61 entries, the exhibition focuses on the role of physical
detachment from loved ones in an era where fear of death is
frighteningly infused with the juices of life. Each participant in
the show incorporates a dental dam into his or her piece, or not,
depending on his artistic statement. Utilizing the rubber implement
as a point of departure, the pieces conjure strange images of
sexual repression.
For instance, Elizabeth Puisinelli’s work, "Cake Secrets,"
suggests that modern-day society has regressed to the standards of
an ancient era. The two rows of pink dental dams encased in glass
display inked-in portraits of luxuriously designed cakes. However,
the implication remains apparent that these decadent treats stand
for more than the 1950s values of the good housewife. Instead, they
recall the times when sexual prowess in females was replaced with
an emphasis on baking skills, a truly domestic quality through
which women could channel their hormonal energy.
Likewise, Georgia Fee’s piece, "Virginia’s Parting," extends
female sexual denial to the literary world. Focusing her attention
on a quote of Virginia Woolf which reads, "I never remember any
enjoyment of my body," the remark precursors the fact that "on
March 28, 1941, Virginia walked to the river house, left her cane
on the shore, and drowned." Linked by a series of black and white
drawn fingers, flowing like sperm through the long, three-paneled
wood-encased structures, it sends a chill of human isolation down
the spine.
However, not all works center so despairingly on the topic at
hand. One comical offering by Misugi Forssen displays a
dental-dam-wrapped lollipop with a protrusive paper tongue, and
goes by the title "The ALL DAY suck her." Similarly amusing is Eve
Wood’s "Batnun," where a blindfolded nun figurine, swathed in a
blue dental-dam batcape, stares down at a Bible.
However, not all works allow for such obvious interpretations.
For instance, Liz Harvey’s "More Candy" involves a pair of
underwear made entirely of Life Savers Butter Rum Wrappers with a
visible inner statement proclaiming, "Sorry, this package is not a
winner – try again."
Likewise, "Paper Weights," by Mary M. Wingfield, consists merely
of three differently colored dental dams encased in glass to become
three separate blocks. Perhaps her sculptures question the
effectiveness of sexual protection that has become as commonplace
and as invisible as the novel paperweight, though any perspective
seems possible.
Regardless, all pieces in "Splice" bring to light the
controversial nature of sex in the modern age. Addressing the
policies of religious figures and political leaders alike, the
exhibition probes the mind for answers relating to problems of a
physical nature.
However, at the heart of "Splice" remains the question of how
separate the sensations of the body truly are from the soul, and
how distant humans can stand to be from one another in an era
wrought with carnal fear.
ART: Admission to the "Splice" exhibit at Side Street Projects
in Santa Monica is free. For information, call 310-829-0779.