(Author’s own photos)
THE PERPETRATOR IN THE CHAPEL
Is Byars turning in his golden grave?
Inherently morbid, The Death of James Lee Byars would seem to juxtapose Ralph Rugoff’s slogan ‘May You Live In Interesting Times’. However, Walter Vanhaerent’s curation has breathed new life into the collaborative exhibition for the 58th Venice biennale,It‘s been rebirthed, revitalised, resurrected! But has he done Byars’ legacy justice? The Death of James Lee Byars is based on the transience of life and was first exhibited in 1994 as a performance at the Galerie Marie-Puck Broodthaers in Brussels. It involved the artist, dressed in gold lamé, lying down for a short while in the golden chamber whilst Marie-Puck played a role in placing five swarovski diamonds on the scene.
The original performance can never be perfectly recreated, since Byars passed away in 1996 shortly after signing over the ownership. He’d written no direction for how he wanted his ‘Death’ to be displayed, so perhaps he is as much to blame for the new direction taken by Walter Vanhaerents, who had merely bought the ephemeral idea.
Perhaps it’s appropriate, then, that this postmortem exhibition takes place the chapel of Santa Maria della Visitazione and has been updated with the commission of Zak Moltaka’s Vocal Shadows, connoting all the solemn evocations of a requiem (figs.1,2). Byars did, after all, wish to be buried in the Golden City. The hushed tones and ethereal music suit the low-lit environment, as do the quivering gold leaves and golden coffin further connote ideas of transience (figs.3,4).
Inappropriate, however, is the implication of the artist’s divinity. His suggested presence lies in the chamber as if its the tomb for a King (fig.5). Admittedly, contemporary art has a habit of standing out in Renaissance church settings, but at least Sean Scully in San Giorgio Maggiore had the decency to base his intrusive Ascension on the biblical story of Jacob’s ladder. Byars’ piece, presented in this way, seems excruciatingly narcissistic.
Lying in wait to catch the viewer’s eye, the imposing golden chamber is hinted at by the reflection on the tabernacle, only to be seen when the viewer turns and looks back the way they came (fig.6). A somewhat unnatural motion for a Catholic in a chapel, it seems appropriate that to admire such a lavish and self-indulgent piece of art, one must turn their back on the altar. The audacity to oppose the tabernacle, where the real divinity is supposed to be!
Perhaps Vanhaerents should take a golden leaf out of Germano Celant’s book, the curator of this year's Prada exhibition of Jannis Kounellis. Similarly adorned with gold and intangible themes, Kounellis’ work is indulgent, but tastefully presented in a secular setting.
Noted in the catalogue, Byars had said he wanted people to find something useful for their own death when considering his performance, whether Vanhaerent’s new rendition of the piece successfully continues this intention is another matter. In the words of Miranda Priestly, the curatorial decision of matching Death to a chapel seems just about as “groundbreaking” as “florals in spring.” I must confess, however, that I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Is this blasphemy?
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