How it Is

---

The following was meant to be published sooner (regarding time in London) but I had some technical difficulties...

______________________________

In our last couple days in London we visited four museums: the Tate Modern, the Science Museum, the Natural History Museum, and the Victoria & Albert Museum. My personal favorite of these was the Tate modern, which I took to be London's answer to New York's MoMA. The first thing I saw at the Tate might have also been one of my favorite experiences of the entire trip. It was a piece called How It Is. What it is, is a giant box several stories in height. It is constructed of wood and steel. My experience was such that I didn't realize what might be on the other side of the box. All I could see was its flat back facing me. The box is elevated on stilts and stands several stories tall. Upon walking to the other side of the box I was met with a very large ramp that may have been roughly 50 feet x 50 feet. The ramp leads into the box. And what's in the box? Nothing. Not even light. As you enter, it is like entering the largest, quietest, darkest cave you've ever gone into. And as the box appears to be well over 100 feet in length, you're not really sure what lies towards the end. You walk further and further, until suddenly you are met with a soft velvet black wall. And only inches from your face might you make out that you are touching a wall. As you turn back towards the light you see the perfect silhouettes of the other visitors and rather than a ramp, a horizon line. And as visitors come and go, you see bodies ascend and descend upon the horizon. After exiting How It Is, I read the write up on the piece was strategically placed on the exit side of its display. It said this:

'How shall I move forward?' you might ask yourself, as you stand at the threshold, confronted by the darkness ahead. The unknown can be terrifying, especially if it is also without light. How you approach it is unique, as your first encounter with anything can only ever be as an individual. Staring ahead into the black void may make you wonder whether to move ahead at all.

'It's fine', you reassure yourself, 'what can actually be inside?' How It Is is complete only when you, the viewer, enter. The container focuses you inwards, both physically and psychologically, deeper into the darkness. In choosing how to move ahead - to march in fearlessly, or to skirt along the walls - you create your own journey. But, as you bump into others, or mistakenly grab a stranger's shoulder, your trepidation eases and collectively you navigate the void.

Miroslaw Balka is one of the most significant contemporary artists of his generation. Comprising sculpture and video, his works explore themes of personal experience, often set within the context of the history of his native Poland. His work may often appear minimal in its pared-down forms and simple materials yet these are steeped in personal and universal meanings.

How It Is draws upon innumerable experiences and references. These include the uncompromising prose of Samuel Beckett's novel How It Is, which chronicles an unnamed narrator's journey as he crawls through mud; and the allegory of Plato's Cave, in which 'prisoners' sit chained, facing a blank wall, where their only link to reality is to watch shadows of figures moving past a fire behind them. 'You can shape this yourself. The shape you create is not just about your body, 'it's about your mind', Balka has said of How It Is. The myriad of complex ideas conjured by its relatively simple form combine to create monumental and poetic work.

_______________

I'm very grateful for this experience and the chance to see this piece. As a small thought in retrospect, I hadn't considered until just now how important the auditory experience of that piece was. Had the piece been bare wood throughout its cavern, the echo would have provided a reference point for the experience of the visitor. However, as its inside was lined with soft fabrics (only confirmed by running into the wall at the end) it provided a lack of sensory information that made the whole thing work that much better. Awesome 😊

Other pieces that I wanted to remember from the Tate were: Water Lilies by Claude Monet, Number 12 by Joan Mitchel, Gothic Landscape by Lee Krasner (a depiction of the grief she felt after her husband Jackson Pollock died in a car accident), Girl in a Chemise by Picasso, and Andre Derain by Henri Matisse.

-tim

---