The Milwaukee Art Museum is the perfect home for art as it is an art piece itself. Rising up on the shores of Lake Michigan with its flowing architecture it is easy to forget that it is also a vessel for art, holding them squarely within its walls. Like a beautifully adorned thermos, the real substance of the museum lies within yet another set of walls in the exhibit hall for Act/React. Upon entering through the doorway into the exhibit one must first travel along a winding hallway used to block the view of the exhibit from nonpaying patrons, unintentionally building the anticipation for the exhibit. It is a quiet hall, bristling with energy, full of patrons observing and, in a way, interacting with the maker of each piece. Closed off from the rest of the museum, one gets the feeling of stepping into another world. Knowing that the only people who can see you are other viewers waiting to interact with the pieces allows one to break out of their shell and dive headfirst into the works.
A typical work of art found in a museum has signs around asking the patrons not to touch the work or some form of barrier preventing one from even getting close enough to see how artist created the piece. In the works offered up in the Act/React exhibit viewers are encouraged to get involved with piece and make it their own by the very security guards normally yelling at you for standing too close to the painting. When computers first became common in the 1980’s some saw them as works of art on their own, but until now they had not been truly realized for their artistic potential; the use of projectors and sensors in the exhibit help close the gap even further between the artist and the viewer.
The methods of interaction cover a broad range of motion. Each piece requires the viewer to take a few moments to either observe how to interact or figure it out for themselves, thus immediately involving them in the artistic act whether they realize it or not. This interactivity asks the viewers to step outside of the usual comfort zone given to museumgoers and actually perform in front of others. The majority of the works use the combination of a projector and a shadow sensor mounted above the interaction area to capture movement and translate it into the work. Scott Snibbe’s Deep Walls uses the same technology, the projector and sensor combo, but instead rotates it to project on a wall, allowing the sensor to capture not just the overhead shadow of a person, but the entire silhouette. He puts the recorded silhouette’s movements into one of 16 squares in a grid on the wall. Many patrons, upon first arriving at the work, spend their time just looking at the unique silhouettes captured in the squares. Their timidity to interact and have their shadow recorded is reminiscent of mythology, where it was considered a malicious act to capture another’s shadow. When someone finally makes the leap and steps in front of the projector, the group suddenly erupts with excitement to see one of their own in the work of art. Once someone takes that first step, the doors fly open to all of the possibilities of the piece and the imagination of the viewers comes to life. Deep Walls is more of a tool for the patrons to create their own piece, either as an individual or as a group. You are encouraged to test the bounds of the technology, figure out how it works, and make it your own.
“… touch, the most intimate form of communication is the interactive mechanism, yielding auditory rather than visual wonders”
-George Fifield, guest currator
Janet Cardiff’s piece, To Touch, requires a more physical interaction to elicit a response by the work. A very simple looking installation greets patrons upon first entering the room that houses the piece. Speakers dot the walls at ear level and all point towards a worn table in the center of the room glowing from the light of the spotlight overhead. Instead of just walking in front of a projector, one must physically get involved with the piece to elicit any sort of response. How to interact with the work is not immediately obvious as the only information to go on is the title. However, once figured out, the room comes alive with the sounds of voices, various musical crescendos and random sound effects. The table is equipped with electronic photo cells that trigger when a hand runs over them. The slightly confusing nature of the piece encourages viewers to work together to figure out just how it works and what the message might be. Since more than one photo cell can be triggered and running at a time it is common to hear more than one voice or sound effect at a time, creating a somewhat dominating soundscape. This piece takes storytelling to an entirely new level, creating a more realistic retelling of the story: broken up, non-linear, and overwhelming. George Fifield said it best when he wrote how the piece “[blurs] the distinctions between sculpture, installations, and sound art.”
Upon leaving the exhibit the viewer is thrown back into the light and reminded that they are indeed in a museum. The return to the museum atmosphere, where the job of the security guard, once again, is to keep patrons from touching the works, is jolting to say the least. One tends to miss the intimacy of the exhibition space where everyone was experiencing the pieces and working together to get the most out of them. The interactivity of the works in the Act/React exhibit means they will be forgotten long after the many paintings and sculptures in the museum because, as George Fifield puts it, “People who interact with the art have a hand in creating part of their experience, for each person has the opportunity to choose his or her own path through the work.”
