(Un)reserved Spaces? Disrupting Perceptions of Bodies and Identity. Burçak Yakıcı's review of the exhibition "I'm Sorry, This Space Is Reserved" at Nikolaj Kunsthal |
a review of the exhibition I'm Sorry, This Space Is Reserved by Burçak Yakıcı
(Un)reserved Spaces?Disrupting Perceptions of Bodies and Identity“Staring witnesses an
interruption of our comforting narratives – variously called truth, knowledge, certainty, or meaning”. * When we engage with an exhibition, we're not just passive observers; we step into a space that invites us to immerse ourselves in our own lives, surroundings, and relationships. The experience can be especially profound when the artworks on display delve into themes like disability. As I walked through the I'm Sorry, This Space Is Reserved exhibition at Copenhagen's Nikolaj Kunsthal, I found myself reflecting on my own connections with friends and family members who live with disabilities. The works didn’t just speak to me; they resonated on a deeply personal level, prompting me to reexamine the nuances of these relationships and the silent challenges that often go unnoticed. This exhibition didn’t just trigger memories, it stirred emotions. I recalled a novel I had read years ago, an autobiographical novel of an author’s life with a disability. That story had left a lasting impact on me, and as I moved through the gallery, the emotions from that book intertwined with the visual narratives I encountered. It was as if the art was urging me to revisit those feelings, to see them anew through the lens of each artist's work. The themes of pleasure and sexuality, often overlooked in discussions about disability, were brought to the forefront here, challenging me to think more deeply about these vital but rarely discussed aspects of life.
The group show I'm Sorry, This Space Is Reserved at Nikolaj Kunsthal takes visitors on an intense journey through the body, identity, and the tensions between normative and non-normative societal systems. Walking into this exhibition felt like stepping into a conversation, one that is both deeply personal and universally relevant. This conversation with each artwork and the artist's approach, is engaging visitors one by one with individual pieces and perspectives. Curated in collaboration with Kristina Steinbock, the exhibition features works by Danish and international artists, creating a platform for contemplation and dialogue about societal boundaries.
When visitors approach the exhibition hall of this old St. Nicholas Church, repurposed as a contemporary art center, they come across with Maria Koshenkova's sculpture series The Caretaker, which hangs from the high. The installation draws the viewer's attention to the delicate glass forms, which convey a sense of fragility and strength. Though glass is sometimes regarded as fragile, Kashenkova's work promises resilience, with abstract forms like twisted beings that have been untied and recreated in a new, translucent medium. The sculptures challenge the boundary between presence and absence, highlighting the body's resilience, a theme that reverberated throughout the exhibition. In contrast, Joseph Grigely's Between the Walls and Me depicts a cast of the artist's head laying on the floor, creating a strong sense of inner agony and strife. Grigely, who went deaf after a childhood accident, utilizes this art to investigate communication limitations and the problems they cause. The damaged cast represents the artist's struggle, as if he were "banging his head against the wall." as stated by the artist. Grigely’s Another Story, a written and audio record, begins with the compelling line, “I have a story I’ve been wanting to tell for years. It’s a story about being deaf.” This phrase hooks visitors immediately, drawing them in with an irresistible urge to follow the narrative. It creates a shared journey, inviting the audience to uncover the layers of the story together. Kristina Steinbock’s contribution, a series of delicate silk pieces woven with texts and drawings, stands out from the exhibition's more tactile works. The light tint of the words offers a tranquil, almost ethereal reading experience, enticing readers to interact with the text in a more intimate, meditative way. Steinbock’s work discreetly criticizes how certain voices and experiences are made invisible or inaudible in a society that values certain sorts of bodies and communication over others. These textile-based works take a challenging look at the intersections of identity, disability, and sexuality. In parts like Would you be afraid of having a handicapped child if I ejaculated inside you? Steinbock employs embroidery to analyze the expectations placed on bodies. Her work, such as Dildo, Flesh Light, and Plastic Fist and Threesome (Dirty Sign Language), explores desire, creating visually appealing works that encourage viewers to question their own ideas about disability, beauty, and eroticism. The artworks didn't just make me see; they made me feel. I was reminded of conversations I’ve had, the struggles shared, and the silent battles fought.
Corban Walker’s installation Short Minute Matter introduces a sense of order and repetition, with black metal paths symmetrically placed and tied together with a thin rope. The repetition in Walker’s work can be interpreted as a metaphor for the repetitive struggles faced by those who navigate spaces that are not designed for them. The installation, placed in a gallery setting, requires the viewer to physically engage with these structures, thus forging a new relationship between body and space. His piece Untitled (Pigeons), featuring 72 porcelain casts of hospital urine bottles, starkly reflects his own experiences with hospitalization. Across his minimalist sculptures and installations that challenge traditional perceptions of scale and space, the audience is invited to confront Maiken Bent's vivid sculptures, which bring nuanced approach to the display. Bent uses ready-made objects that reference health and accessibility, prompting the viewer to question their understanding of the relationship between body, space, and objects. The hefty, colorful dumbbells and other equipment, typically associated with strength and physicality, are recontextualized in the show, creating an unsettling tension. Bent’s sculptures go beyond expectations, provoking both shock and deep reflection, creating an immersive sensory experience. The indoor elevator tool, positioned vertically on the floor and surrounded by climbing equipment, finds a new existence in the exhibition space, defying its typical purpose. The arrangement may even evoke the chaotic energy of a roller coaster. Works like Lift #1, Lift #2, and Lift #3 employ stairlifts, yoga mats, and fitness gear, transforming these familiar objects into structures that challenge the viewer’s assumptions about functionality, pushing boundaries and redefining purpose. The exhibition creates a dynamic visual experience where the viewer's gaze is guided from the floor to the high ceilings. In contrast to Maiken Bent’s Lift, which is anchored to the earth by heavy dumbbells, emphasizing a grounded and weighty presence, Jesse Darling’s Saint Icarus (Attributes)stands at the top of this vertical journey. Darling’s piece, delicate and almost ethereal, contrasts with the more grounded works below. This placement encourages viewers to reflect on the interplay between fragility and strength in the body, while also engaging with broader themes of corporeal and societal boundaries. Jesse Darling’s Saint Icarus (Attributes) has a metaphorical tone and a universal humanistic approach. The piece intertwines metal components into a delicate, almost sacred form, addressing the frailty of both the human body and societal systems. It reflects on the body's need for care and healing, highlighting the vulnerability and resilience inherent in both individual and collective experiences.
As we move through the exhibition, we are struck by the presence of non-human elements that carry traces of human experience. Robert Andy Coombs' photographic work offers a captivating investigation into queer disability, illuminating personal histories often hidden from view or ignored. His photographs delve into actual experiences, providing an intimate portrayal that challenges prejudices and broadens our understanding of intersecting identities. Coombs' photography is also a tool for personal care and documentation: the approach to capturing the body’s needs speaks to a deep engagement with both the identity and well-being. In the video room, Estela Lapponi's experimental performance video descrAcTION is inspired study of disability, identity, and sexuality. The film employs audio description as a narrative method, highlighting the complexities of disabled life through a series of implied, questions such as: Lapponi's strong, corporeal performances challenge cultural stereotypes while also honoring diversity. The video work is captivating,
Luna Scales' video work, Memories by Touch, creates a poetic narrative that goes beyond medical diagnosis by interviewing four women born with congenital muscular or neurological illnesses. Her concentration on the language and scrutiny put on crippled bodies is both sympathetic and sharp, giving light on the pain, confrontations these women faced. Scales frequently depicts herself, challenging public notions of physical functioning capacities and offering a critique of the gaze and perceptions of the body. We immerse ourselves in these narratives while experiencing them emotionally. As a child, overhearing extensive conversations about her own health issues, she found it difficult to fully comprehend the depth and significance of these discussions. Following the video work, Emilie Louise Gossiaux's drawing series emerges, reinforcing the narrative of self-expression through the tactile, intricate lines on the paper. Her drawings amplify the conversation about the body's relationship to touch and perception. Gossiaux, who lost her sight at the age of 21, has continued her artistic practice through touch, guiding her hand around the page using indentation and texture. Gossiaux's paintings, including Tongue to Chin, Hand to Paw and Heart Shades and Sleep Shades, reflect on her bond with London, her guide dog. The feeling of touch plays an important role in her drawings, not just in the physical act of creation but also in the conceptual investigation of how touch facilitates communication between bodies, whether human or animal. As I traced the lines of her work with my eyes, I was reminded of the many ways in which we connect with the world around us, often in ways that transcend sight. Overall, I'm Sorry, This Space Is Reserved prompts the audience to reconsider conventional beliefs about bodies, identities, and accessibility. Through a thoughtful curatorial approach and a diverse range of artistic expressions, the exhibition succeeds in creating a vital space for reflection and dialogue on the complexities of navigating a world that is not always inclusive.
While I appreciated the inclusion of accessibility tools such as audio descriptions and braille transcription at the entrance, I found myself wondering whether these features were fully integrated into the exhibition's narrative or merely added as afterthoughts, tools that made the exhibition accessible without necessarily influencing the content or presentation of the artworks themselves. Accessibility, in my view, should be an integral part of the curatorial concept, thoughtfully embedded from the start rather than added as an afterthought. Though the exhibition was thought-provoking and impactful, I felt it could have benefited from a more critical examination of how art and curatorial practices can challenge or reinforce societal norms and exclusions. The exhibition will be open at Copenhagen's Nikolaj Kunsthal until 19 January 2025. |