Being part of the art - Interactive
video displays put viewers in masterpiece paintings
Standing up straight behind the bar in a velvet dress with
creme de menthe, champagne and beer set out for her customers,
Suzon looked as if she wanted to be somewhere else.
When Allyson Lassiter and Peter Puskas, students from the Milwaukee
Institute of Art & Design, sidled up to the bar, checking
out their own reflections in the giant mirror behind her, Suzon
just sighed and rolled her eyes.
"Hello, hello?" said Puskas, waving a five-dollar
bill, trying to get the attention of Suzon, who yawned and looked
away.
Suzon and the students were a million miles apart, it seemed.
Or a least a century.
In truth, Suzon was a 19th-century barmaid, known only by her
first name, who modeled for an edouard Manet painting of a famous
Paris beer hall.
The students, on the other hand, were visiting the Dean Jensen
Gallery, 759 N. Water St., this week. They were looking at themselves
inside what looked like a living version of the Manet masterpiece,
"Bar at the Folies-Bergere."
The students were getting a sneak peek at one of the interactive
video artworks by Iraqi-born Wafaa Bilal that will go on view
tonight for Gallery Night. The works allow viewers to feel as
if they are part of masterpiece paintings.
The other two works, still being installed, resemble Leonardo
da Vinci's "Mona Lisa" and Edgar Degas' "The
Absinthe Drinker."
When you approach the artworks, they look very much like the
originals, down to the size and frame. But the artworks detect
when people are approaching, and the painterly figures in them,
which are all female, slowly and almost imperceptibly morph
into "real" women.
"We are very interested in having the viewer trigger the
work," says Bilal, who created the work with the help of
another artist, Shawn Lawson.
Bilal's version of Suzon reacts to the body language of the
people standing in front of her. Her expression, among the most
mysterious and debated in the history of art, can change in
18 different ways.
Usually, she is melancholy or annoyed. She frequently storms
away from her post in a huff, not returning until her offenders
have left. It's rare, but if you treat her just right, she'll
become faintly flirtatious, offering a hint of a smile or a
wink.
"What do we see . . . oh my God!" says Bilal, aping
how viewers have reacted at other venues. People wave at the
woman, try to grope her image in the mirror and just wait and
wait after she's left, he says.
Puskas tried to kiss Suzon on the ear and, after she turned
on her heel and marched off, positioned his body so it looked
as if he had his elbows up on the white, marble bar while he
fondled bottles of beer.
"It becomes about them and seeing their reflection in
the mirror," Bilal says.
Viewers will appear in the mirror behind Suzon, amid the frenetic
scene of the Folies-Bergere, known in the 19th century for its
fashionable crowds, prostitutes, circus acts and musical entertainments.
Bilal, who teaches at the School of the Art Institute of Chicago
and who will be at the gallery for the opening tonight, makes
a cameo appearance in the work himself. An enigmatic, mustached
man from the painting, who stands at the bar, morphs briefly
into Bilal before exiting the picture.
Behind the artwork are a false wall, a hidden camera, a projector
and a series of computers programmed with complicated algorithms.
They detect how many people are standing in front of the piece
and what they're doing, which in turn prompts Suzon to react
in different ways. Second, it takes images of the viewers, cuts
them out and places them into the artwork, behind Suzon and
in the mirror.
The other two works based on Da Vinci and Degas also riff on
longstanding ideas about the artworks.
"There is this idea that the 'Mona Lisa' follows you with
her eyes," says Lawson. "So we have just sort of exploited
that so well, OK, now she does. As you move within the space
from one side to the other, she'll turn her head just slightly
enough so you can see that she is watching you."
That the figures in the three works are women is no accident,
says Bilal. The Manet painting, which raises issues about how
women were treated by men, brings the 19th and 21st centuries
into contrast and begs the question: What has changed?
"I really, in the back of my head, I think it has a lot
to do with watching women . . . a sister and a mother,"
says Bilal, referring to his family living in Iraq. "I
see how oppressed they were and how they did not have a voice."
Suzon and company will linger at the Jensen gallery through
Dec. 3.