wood, muslin, and lights
12.5’ x 33.5’ x 13’ (approx.)
I don’t believe in restricting art objects to their designated containers, where consenting individuals enter when they are in the mood to see Art. I like to blur the assumed boundaries between the viewer and the viewed by placing objects where they are unexpected, in the middle of life, where they can speak to an audience that might not otherwise venture across those alienating thresholds. I want my work to invite, rather than intimidate.
Much of my recent work addresses contemporary art’s limited engagement with and accessibility to the uninitiated by reimagining the roles of traditional exhibition spaces. Cascade upends banal conceptions of The Gallery Wall’s place in art presentation by enlisting the building itself as an inseparable part of the piece, rather than a sterile setting for its consumption. Despite its scale, Cascade is no monument; it does not impose itself on the viewer with its prominence or permanence, nor does it make any grand declarations. Rather, it’s humble and apolitical, built from modest, fragile materials that wouldn’t last much longer than the two-week exhibition. It yields to its circumstance, offering itself to the event and to the environment as a peculiar intervention in an otherwise perfectly mundane façade.
With Cascade, I aimed to create something that would not just surprise, but also spark curiosity and reward exploration. The dissonant planes of fabric that envelop the structure catch sunlight in unequal measure, creating a jumble of adjacent but sharply gradated shapes that seem to form a flat, static composition suspended in space; however, as one moves around the yard, the shapes slowly shift and fold to reveal new configurations. At night, the installation no longer reflects atmospheric light, but emits it, in continual symbiosis with its surroundings. The entirety of the piece cannot be discerned from any one place or time of day, encouraging observers - gallery-goers and unknowing passersby alike - to come closer, walk under and around the piece, to revisit it to discover the form’s innumerable permutations.
Mike Fausz would like to thank his friends and family, with special thanks to Mark Holte, Tom Barrett, and Ed Gerten.