DEC 05: ‘Inner Life’ by Anja Ulfeldt
Make music with sand, balance on a moving sidewalk, and get zapped by an electric tree in this wonderfully interactive show.
WHAT: “Inner Life”, a solo show by Anja Ulfeldt
WHEN: Opening on December 5th, 4-10pm; on display until December 20th
WHERE: Lucky Cat DTLA - 620 S. Main St, Los Angeles 90014
ABOUT THE SHOW.
“In a lot of my work there’s something happening that shouldn’t be. There’s a little bit of a haunting,” Anja Ulfeldt says, standing in the middle of her solo show at Lucky Cat Gallery.
In one window display, a pair of striped pants burst from an old suitcase, seemingly possessed, kicking wildly while a toy elephant calmly watches on. In the other, a smokestack pumps out puffy white haze that slowly spreads through the room. Ghostly radio static emanates from a stack of silver boxes. Electricity dancing along metal beads fills the space with a crackle and hum. The sights and sounds are both soothing and unnerving, familiar and unexpected — a fine line between reality and magic the Bay Area artist expertly walks along.
Ulfeldt has an uncanny attunement to meaning in discarded objects. Along one wall, six toolboxes, thrown away with all their tools inside, are now preserved with hardened red paint like insects trapped in amber: a portrait of the original owner of the boxes, but also a comment on the fading value of physical tools in this digital age. The dancing pants and a similarly reanimated shirt symbolize all the things people put in storage and never think about again, often left behind for someone else to discard after they’re long gone. “These items capture me, somehow,” she says, flipping over the collar of the shirt to show the seam: this wasn’t a shirt someone bought, it was handmade. “They’re sentimental objects; even though they were someone else’s, they still have that power.”
Having grown up in a hoarder house, she thinks a lot about the value we place onto material items, and the power that objects can have over us. A spinning wooden drum, titled “Time Machine,” is filled with love letters and diary pages. “With these machines, I provide a service for people who are holding onto things for sentimental reasons. I increase the wear and tear, taking each paper memento to the end of its life faster.” In a photo series of artifacts found in the desert, she examines what happens to objects when nature does the same thing. Books, worn by the dust and wind, become twisted, gnarled things resembling the wood from which they came from; shoes curl and melt, a slow explosion of fast fashion materials. “I was finding these remnants of those who’d tried to make a place for themselves in the desert; these things were evidence of nature defeating them. But they’re also a sign of what a hotter and hotter climate means for humanity.”
Ulfeldt’s sharp ability to relate mundane personal patterns and objects to larger societal phenomena gives the entire body of work a gravitas that is deadly serious, yet still entirely approachable. And, in fact, approaching the installations — interacting with them, playing with them — is the whole point of many of the pieces. One will make music if you run your hands through the sand. A few might give you a little static electricity zap. The most irresistible one, called “American Sidewalk”, takes something that is the most stable thing in the world — the ground we walk on — and makes it unstable. Daring visitors can tread across chunks of sidewalk balanced on creaking wood blocks that are amplified to make echoing booming sounds. “What is stability?,” she muses. ‘I started thinking about personal mental stability, and then thinking about civic stability. What happens when something you absolutely depend on is no longer dependable?” It hardly needs to be said how relevant such commentary is in today’s political climate. Then again: it’s also very fun to play with, hinting at the joy that can still be found even in the most disconcerting times and places.
The opening for the show is on DTLA Art Night this Thursday, December 5th, from 6-11pm; you can also see it by appointment until December 20th.