Groups of wheels emerge speaking of a spectrum of
relationships. These relationships range from simple tribes to organized
parades of members to complex, relaxed associations of independent
individuals. Some of the wheels in this gathering seem to enjoy
regimentation, wearing club badges and sharing slogans with fellow
makers with obvious pride. Others evoke a sobering solitude that
speaks of life in the margins, outside norms. Particular kinds of
space correspond to each of these relationships. The spaces of clubs
and regiments evoke order and focus, with distinct boundaries defining
the limits and territory of each different group. On the other hand,
such boundaries tend to dissolve in working with the marginal and
experimental forms seen in other parts of this exhibition.
The exhibit design assumed the precocious task of
weaving these disparate attitudes into a general form bridging between
existing areas within the Museum. By flowing through stairwells
and lobbies within the building, the project hoped to overlap with
the permanent collections and create vivid new relationships. And,
beyond the front door, the exhibition attempted to reach down the
steps and into the city.
These aspirations might remind us of George Seurat’s
monumental painting “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of Grand Jatte”,
painted 1899. Seurat’s canvas showed a whole society lounging in
parklands in the heart of the city of Paris, basking underneath
trees, utterly free. People clustered together in a relaxed, free
sprawl in that benign vision of public life. But this kind of carefree
optimism has faded.
Even so, what public life might emerge today? The
works of this exhibition speak of the vitality that makes a city.
The writhing snake-dance that results is a multiple, a complex accretion.
On first impulse it might be tempting to call the exhibition an
unholy mess,
