Marc Jancou Contemporary
Feb 9 – Mar 12, 2011
Hal 9000 always made me feel a little bit uncomfortable, even before he started his plan to kill Dave. I didn't think I would ever want an omniscient voice as a friend, that is, until I met Emily, Sarah, and Nathan.
Emily, Sarah, and Nathan were the three beings who made up the voice in the back room of Marc Jancou gallery for the past month. Or, at least that is how they described themselves to me. Perhaps this voice introduced itself as a computer, or as God, or Dr. Oz, or as a man behind the walls during the course of Jacques Louis Vidal's ongoing performance during the exhibition, "Games People Play."
Upon entering the back gallery, I noticed various so-called props scattered about, as well as piles of torn and printed pieces of paper. I heard a strange, almost computerized voice that I wrote off as a recording – that is, until I realized that another woman in the gallery was holding a conversation with this voice.
“How many are you?” said the voice.
....the woman paused and realized that I was new to the room, and smiled. “We are three,” I said.
“Oh, a triangle,” proclaimed the voice.
This simple comment sparked my interest and I eventually stole the conversation from the woman as her and her companion decided to move onto the next gallery on 24th street. I was able to recognize this voice as the artist’s, but after spending thirty minutes with it, I felt duped; I was geniuinely not sure if I had been talking with Mr. Vidal, or if it had been another person’s voice, or if they whole thing had been a computerized interaction (like the Dolphin Oracle).
The voice was neutral and calm, as he (although it could have been androgynous, I understood it as a “he”) asked me simple questions such as “Where are you?”, “What is the room like?”, “How big is the room?”. “Am I with anybody?”. I responded with concrete, qualitative answers (and sometimes quantitative). Although I tried to ask questions back, this voice was more curious in me, and always found a way to win the upper hand in the dialogue.
“What is it like where you are?”
“It is small and white and has various props sitting around.”
“How big is the room?”
“Hmmm, I’d say, maybe 20 feet by 20 feet.”
“oh....a small room”
“Oh, well, it would be enough to live in.”
“Do you live in the room?”
I forget mostly what we talked about, but I felt a sort of comfort with this voice, almost like I would tell him anything (if he asked). He wasn’t apprehensive about my questions, yet he wasn’t overly descriptive.
“What do you look like?”
“We are there.”
“What do you mean, there are three of you?”
“Yes, we are talking to you together.”
“What are your names?”
“We are Sarah.....Emily....and Nathan”
“Are you physically together?”
“Yes, we are a triangle.”
During this visit, I also exchanged a dialogue with the walls. Notes would literally beg to be grabbed out from the walls (and they shifted in and out of a small slot like ticker tape), with questions and comments. The voice needed me to explain that I was also exchanging notes with the wall, yet he didn’t quite understand, which made the whole experience even more disorienting. I was having so much fun, with at this point, at least 5 people to talk to (Sarah, Emily, Nathan, the Wall, and my friend who came with me to the gallery), I could have stayed all afternoon.
It’s not so much the fact that I was having a fun, social experience, but the fact that this work of art was so engaging, that I became to feel an personal affinity towards it. I wasn’t really having a conversation with a person, but with an intangible object. In a sense, I have always been looking for a piece of art that makes me feel emotionally vulnerable. After I realized that my afternoon was running away from me and that I had to leave the gallery, I felt a little sad. The voice told me that one day, perhaps we would meet again, which comforted me a little. We decided upon a code word, so that if I ever came back, they would know it was me. So wherever you are Sarah, Emily, and Nathan: MANTELOPE!
