Krzysztof Wodiczko, Veterans' Flame, 2009. Photograph by Michael Marcelle, courtesy Creative Time.
This week’s New Yorker features a fantastic piece by Nick Paumgarten that looks into the historic quandary that is Governor’s Island. The question of what to do with the island just 800 yards South of Manhattan has been around since the 17th century when it was purchased by the Dutch from the island’s natives for two axe heads, a string of beads, and pile of nails. Later passed to the U.S. military in 1800, it was last inhabited by the Coast Guard from 1966 until 1996 when it’s 3000 or so residents left behind a ghost town of housing, municipal buildings, a movie theater, a church, a synagogue, Victorian homes, and the country’s only Burger King that sold beer. It was purchased by New York in 2002 for $1 (this island sure is a bargain, even 350 years later). It wasn’t until the following year that someone was hired who seems to know what to do – for starters. That would be Governors Island Preservation and Education Corporation’s (GIPEC) Leslie Koch who believes in social theorist Richard Florida’s idea that if you bring the artists first, the people will follow.
Most New Yorker’s have never heard of Governors island, and if they have they’ve surely never been. Since it was unreachable by the public until 1976 it existed on few maps of the city. GIPEC would like to change that and the fine people at Creative Time have helped this summer by putting on the inaugural quadrennial, PLOT09 “This World & Nearer Ones,” curated by Mark Beasley and featuring 19 artists and collectives. It’s only open until September 20, so if you’re feeling down about the summer coming to a close, take the free (yes – free!) ferry offered each weekend from South Street and enjoy free (again – free!) bicycle rentals, mini-golf, hammocks, sprawling lawns, shady lanes, and the well-executed PLOT site-specific exhibition.
One of the strongest aspects of “This World & Nearer Ones” is that it is site-specific. Beasley invited artists from around the world to come to the island, experience it, and create something that directly activates highly inactive buildings, homes, and sites. This is not an art exhibition that has plopped itself on Governor’s island because of its space and open calendar. The artists have brought life (and sometimes the afterlife) to the abandoned Victorian homes, a theater, a church, and municipal and military buildings, while bringing light to the history of the island.
Several of the artists came to visit during the fall of 2008 when the island looked its most abandoned and ghost-town-ish, said Nicholas Weist of Creative when I visited the island for my first time in July, and their work reflects that. Like Edgar Arcenaux’s Sound Cannon Double Projection which occupies a home on Colonel’s row and emits low frequency sound waves of 20Hz. Known as infrasound, its been suspected to cause the feeling of haunting. Indeed, I felt something indescribable in my gut when entering and even my trusty tour guide elected to stay outside.
Then there’s AA Bronson & Peter Hobbs’ Invocation of the Queer Spirits that shows the remnants of a ritual held two days before the exhibition opened. It can be viewed only through small cutouts in the walls and doors that separate you from the living room where séance took place. Peering through the hole I felt an eerie, cool breeze on my face and the strong smell of sage. Candles, wine bottles, plates, glitter, pom poms, and leaves are strewn about the floor. In the kitchen on a shelf is an alter-like display of the infamous axe heads, nails, and beads. The mind reels thinking about what went on that night…
Between You and I by Anthony McCall is probably the site you’ll linger at the longest. It’s a projection from the ceiling of St. Cornelius Chapel that draws simple geometric shapes on it’s floor and creates specter-like sculptures in the pitch black. My favorite, though, was Krzysztof Wodiczko Vertans’ Flame, a video installation deep in a magazine chamber of Fort Jay. A giant singular flame wavers sinisterly in a space that used to house ammunition. The candle flickers in response to the recorded voices of Iraq and Afghanistan veterans, calling to mind the military history of the island.
As Beasley says in his essay for the exhibition, “‘This World & Nearer Ones’ revels in the uncertain, for in doubt new worlds are born, new thinking and new ways of being.” Alas, while PLOT09 has aided in bringing in visitors this year, the uncertainty remains as to what the future holds for Governors Island.
AA Bronson and Peter Hobbs, Invocation of the Queer Spirits, 2009. Photograph by Sam Horine, courtesy Creative Time.
