Allora & Calzadilla, and Dan Flavin (context is everything) 2015
by Jan Galligan & Lillian Mulero, Santa Olaya, PR
“Let me read your horoscope,” says Lillian.
I was born on the cusp of Aries and Pisces, so Lillian starts with Aries, my dominant sign. “The strong energy of the sun will help you accept a new reality and launch on a new adventure without restrictions or fear.” Lillian and I are realists. Objective in our thinking and not given to the supernatural. None the less, we often consult astrology regarding the day's prospects. “Don't put all your hope at the mercy of a person you have just met,” she continues, with Pisces. “You give yourself too freely, and they can take advantage of your candor.” As usual, it's a mixed message, a contradictory metaphor.
We are on our way to see Jennifer Allora and Guillermo Calzadilla's presentation of a repurpossed fluorescent-tube light sculpture which they have installed deep inside a limestone cave on the south side of the island. Their project, Puerto Rican Light (Cueva Vientos), employs Dan Flavin's 1965 minimalist work which he titled Puerto Rican Light (to Jeanie Blake). This is not the first time they have used Flavin's sculpture. They presented it in 2003, first at the Americas Society in New York City, then at the Tate Modern in London. Allora & Calzadilla powered Flavin's sculpture employing a bank of storage batteries which had been previously charged using solar panels they had installed on the grounds of the Museo de Arte Contemporáneo here in San Juan. The solar panels collected Puerto Rican light and the energized batteries were shipped from Puerto Rico to each exhibition.
As an artist, I am post-conceptual. I subscribe to the tenets of minimalism, an objective interpretation that places the object at the center of the art equation. A discipline where the object is the art – simply and directly. I follow the catechism propounded in 1969 by Sol Lewitt in his thirty-five Sentences on Conceptual Art. For example:
18. One usually understands the art of the past by applying the convention of the present, thus misunderstanding the art of the past.
23. The artist may misperceive (understand it differently from the artist) a work of art but still be set off in his own chain of thought by that misconstrual.
26. An artist may perceive the art of others better than his own.
Lillian and I believe in the power of objects. In fact we believe in power objects. Scale is not an important factor for an object to have a commanding presence. Richard Tuttle's one-inch piece of rope nailed to a gallery wall has a power equal to Jeff Koons' enormous Puppy sitting outside the Guggenheim in Bilbao.
Arriving at El Convento Cave System in Peñuelas we are met by a representative of Para La Naturaleza, a private non-profit conservation organization which administers this protected site, and along with the Dia Art Foundation, is a co-sponsor of Allora & Calzadilla's project. Signing in, we are given hard hats and hiking sticks, and told we will be making an unguided two mile hike of moderate difficulty, up hill and through the woods to reach the cave where the sculpture is installed. Reaching the last part of our ascent, I realize why we have hiking sticks. Although there are steps carved into the rock and wooden hand rails, it is a steep climb to reach the mouth of Cueva Vientos where Allora & Calzadilla have installed Flavin's fluorescent tubes.
It's nearly unprecedented for two artists to employ the work of another artist for their own purpose. Only a few examples come to mind. Picasso and Braque worked together on a few cubist collages. Marcel Duchamp took credit for baroness Elsa von Freytag-Loringhoven's urinal, now known as Fountain. The only similar example we know is quite contemporary and close to home. In 2005, Spanish conceptual artist Antoni Muntadas was commissioned to create a public art project for the Roosevelt station of el Tren Urbano. His work is titled On Translation: El Tren Urbano. It features photographs from two books by photographer Jack Delano: pictures from Puerto Rico Mio, which contrast 1940s Puerto Rico with a series of 1980s photos; and De San Juan a Ponce en el Tren, 1940s photographs taken along the rail line that ran from San Juan to Ponce. Muntadas reproduces Delano's photographs exactly, but has enlarged them to enormous, 20 x 30 foot, back-lit transparencies.
The installation and operation of Allora & Calzadilla's project is complex and delicate, from both an art and environmental perspective. The artwork must be protected from the environment, while the environment must be protected from any undue influence by the art object. The sculpture has been installed inside a specially made, hermetically sealed, glass box, invisible to the eye from any normal viewing distance. A set of hinged metal doors enclose the sculpture when it is not in use. A strict ritual is followed. Daily at 10AM, two attendants bring a full battery from the charging station which holds a bank of solar panels. The battery is driven in a small cart to Cueva Convento, and from there the forty pound unit is hand carried to its location in the upper chamber of Cueva Vientos. The sculpture is plugged into the battery, the metal doors are opened and a switch is thrown, lighting the sculpture.
Using a broom made from a bundle of fronds, the attendants sweep the floor of the cave, removing any footprints or other stray markings, taking care not to disturb long lines of guano, dropped by bats when they exit the cave at night.
At 3PM, the ritual is repeated, in reverse. The attendants turn off the sculpture and close the doors, sealing it in for the night. They unplug and remove the battery, carrying it to the entrance. Again, they sweep up. The battery is hand carried – arduous because of the weight – back down to Cueva Convento, then driven back to the charging station. It's hard not to think of Flavin as a high priest of minimalism, and Allora & Calzadilla as art missionaries.
In 2008, Philippe Vergne, then curator at Dia Art Foundation, invited Allora & Calzadilla to create a long term project and they proposed the idea for Puerto Rican Light. It took seven years, but now Puerto Rican Light (Cueva Vientos) will remain until the autumn equinox, September 23, 2017, unless – following dystopian thinking – the apocalypse intervenes with a meltdown of the power grid. Even then, Puerto Rican Light (Cueva Vientos) could continue to function. Imagine a lone attendant, now promoted to acolyte, carrying on the daily ritual of bringing power to the sculpture. Bats would continue to fly in and out of the cave and Puerto Rican Light (to Jeanie Blake) would continue to glow – red, yellow and pink – at least until the bulbs burn out.
Allora & Caldazilla, Puerto Rican Light (Cueva Vientos), 2015. Guayanilla-Penuelas, Puerto Rico. © Allora & Caldazilla. Photo of two openings at top of cave by Myritza Castillo. Courtesy Dia Art Foundation, New York