Aernout Mik, "Middlemen," 2001. Courtesy of MoMA.
The first North American survey of the Dutch born artist, Aernout Mik, is currently on view at the Museum of Modern Art. The museum space has been turned into Mik’s playground with eight of his works installed in both gallery and non-gallery spaces throughout the institution. Confusingly, the show has been organized by Laurence Kardish (Senior Curator) and Kelly Sidley (Curatorial Assistant), both from MoMA’s Film Department, rather than the Media and Performance Art Department that is usually associated with exhibitions of video work. Perhaps this says more about the need for the restrictive department barriers to be broken down than anything else. Regardless, Kardish and Sidley have organized an exhibition that challenges MoMA’s stiff corporate persona and reveals its ability to inaugurate the general public into the work of contemporary artists.
All of Mik’s works are non-narrative videos, displayed on a sculptural/architectural backdrops created specifically to accompany each piece. With the exception of Raw Footage (2006), none of the videos have sound. Groups are always prominent in Mik’s videos, and it is the interaction between two, often opposing, groups of people that appears to be the focus of the videos. This focus on groups is accentuated as one views the videos, by the realization that, as people congregate around Mik’s videos, they become a part of a group themselves. Though each video does not have a strict narrative, in general, they hint at connections with contemporary societal issues such as the economic crisis, violence and panic in schools, and war. Due to these recognizable issues, despite being staged, the works have a documentary feel to them. One cannot help but create one’s own narrative to make sense of what is being seen, relying only on facial and social cues, since there is no audio to supplement. However, ultimately any attempts to reconcile what one is seeing into a narrative will be futile because a new element will arise that doesn’t fit. For example, as a crowd gathers around a child lying on the ground, one begins to think the child is injured, however the beginnings of that created narrative are questioned as a doll or effigy is brought out and laid on top of the boy. The tension created by the uncertainty of Mik’s videos is what makes his work so engaging.
The most powerful work in the show is Mik’s newest, Schoolyard (2009), which was commissioned by the Museum of Modern Art. The two-channel video installation depicts a school that has been evacuated. Children and adults form various groups that interact, sometimes in tense opposition, other times in collaborative celebration. Sometimes they act in protest and other times they work together to perform tasks. Some moments are festive while others appear mournful. Perhaps what makes this piece so striking is the inclusion of a school where youths and adults interact amidst palpable tension – this in an age where violence in schools is a reality. However, I think instead it may be that Mik is growing as an artist and perfecting his craft over time, so that this most recent work is his most successful. The work is installed on the second floor, in the space outside the café and Special Exhibitions Gallery between the main museum building and the Education Center. Many school groups will pass this piece each day on their way into the museum. This creates a constant group of viewers, who are students and adults, young and old, mirroring the groups in the video.
Several of the other videos are extremely commanding due to their particularly contemporary relevance. When one enters the museum from 53rd Street, one is immediately confronted with one of Mik’s imposing structures. This work, Middlemen, depicts a stock market floor turned economic wasteland. A few suited men and women seem to meander about, some grimly slouched on the floor with a few scraps of paper in their hands. Made in 2001, the piece seems an eerie premonition of our current economic situation. Other works, such as Scapegoats (2006), Training Ground (2006), and Raw Footage (2006) focus on violence and aggression connected with war. In Training Ground it is often difficult to figure out who is in charge of whom. After over six years of war, it is not difficult to relate to these questions of who is on whose side and what the original purpose of the fighting may be.
One of the main strengths of the exhibition is the use of space. Mik’s pieces are best viewed within the surrounding architecture, and for the most part, this is executed beautifully in MoMA’s exhibition. Located within the museums various nooks and crannies, hanging from the ceiling, Mik’s videos become an extension of the museum. They become walls, halls, and hanging signs activated by Mik’s videos. They create a more interactive experience throughout the entire museum. As one walks through the museum and turns a corner, one is suddenly confronted with the monumentality of both the structures and the images that compose Mik’s pieces. The curators wanted to place two pieces in the Special Exhibitions gallery on the second floor to demonstrate that Mik’s work could be viewed in a more traditional framework. This is somewhat of a waste. In the gallery, you are not surprised by Mik’s works as you happen upon them. Additionally, the noise from the rest of the museum is blocked out, leaving the works in sterile silence. The sounds of the groups meandering through the museums provide an interactive element to the works and serve to bring the viewer in closer contact with the works themselves. This is lost in the gallery space. The only other misstep in the exhibition is the installation of Fluff three separate times. As Mik’s earliest work, it has a beginner feel to it. The images are stiff and a bit pretentious. While it is always useful to see an artist’s process, I can’t figure out the reason for having this work installed in three different places throughout the museum.
Concurrent with MoMA’s exhibition, The Project in midtown is exhibiting two other works by Mik: Touch, Rise and Fall and Plywood Dwelling (in collaboration with Madeline Boonstra). This exhibition is a fraction of what is available at MoMA, however it still manages to display the same successes and failures in exhibiting Mik’s work. Touch, Rise and Fall is a two-channel video displayed on an imposing structure, which blocks off one section of the gallery. Like most of the works at MoMA, the viewer turns a corner and comes across the piece abruptly, suddenly confronted by it. This is the way that Mik intended for the pieces to be seen and he purposefully creates the architectural structures onto which his videos are projected so as to create this dynamic.
Both exhibitions have their flaws, but the successes far outweigh them. The ability to see such a large amount of Mik’s work in North America is in itself a good reason to visit the exhibitions. However, in addition, the curators at MoMA have really taken advantage of the opportunity to show Mik’s work in the vast space of their institution, exploiting the complexity of the architecture. This is how Mik’s work should be seen.
Aernout Mik @ The Museum of Modern Art, 11 West 53rd Street New York, NY 10019. May 6 – July 27, 2009.
