Charlemagne Palestine:
This exhibition was coordinated in affiliation with
The urgency with which I proposed to invite Charlemagne Palestine to create an installation at Audible Gallery was in part inspired by the 2008 release An Anthology of Noise & Electronic Music / Fifth, A Chronology 1920-2007. This 2-CD album was curated by Guy Marc Hinant, co-founder of the Brussels-based label Sub Rosa, and was accompanied by a 60-page booklet describing each of the twenty-five artists included. I was aware of Charlemagne’s compositional work and had encountered his video Island Song before, but was struck by Guy Marc’s 2-page biographical sketch of Charlemagne, which began “Charlemagne Palestine / visual artist, composer, and performer, b. 15 August 1947, Brooklyn, New York.” This was not an alphabetical listing, so why was “visual artist” listed first? Then, in the following paragraph: "There are so many misunderstandings surrounding the work of Charlemagne Palestine [...] often considered as a musician," Guy Marc wrote, "he sees his work only through visual arts.” As an art historian specializing in interdisciplinary artists who work between visual art and music, I was confused and disturbed by this statement—Who is this artist, Charlemagne Palestine? And why has his visual work seemingly been edited out of (at least American) art history? These became plaguing questions that were difficult to answer. When I discovered that Charlemagne was coming to Chicago in March 2014, under the auspices of the Frequency Series, I asked Lou Mallozzi if I might invite Charlemagne to realize a U.S. premier of his installation art at Audible Gallery. This alternative gallery, located within the Experimental Sound Studio and outside of the commercial art gallery structure, is exceptionally well equipped to host multimedia sound installations, and I had a vision that this exhibition could not only interact with the performances that Charlemagne was scheduled to give, but also demonstrate Charlemagne’s identity as not just a composer but a visual artist as well. Furthermore, the installation could incorporate a continuous sound that would drone on for several weeks beyond Charlemagne’s four-day residency. divinitusssanimalusssacréusssorganusss is the result of these inquiries. At Charlemagne’s request, we prepared for his arrival by adopting over 200 animals (which Charlemagne refers to as “divinities”) from local second-hand stores and borrowing twelve synthesizers and organs from musician friends (thanks to Chicago’s strong experimental music community, this was possible!). Then, between performances, Charlemagne and I worked with the incredible staff and interns of ESS for two days to radically transform the Audible Gallery into this maximal experience. Charlemagne’s instructions during the installation of the exhibition reminded me of the bold exhibition title I had come across in his archives: Let's go back to the caves, to hell with white walls (Galerie du Génie, Paris, 1988). All of the walls were covered with hideously colored and patterned fabrics. The only wall left bare was projected upon, with the video Sacré Asnieres (2000/2013), which Charlemagne filmed in an animal cemetery near Paris, and which demonstrates his affinities for cemeteries and animals (both stuffed and living). The sacred trance-like droning sounds of the installation were created on site in harmonious communication with ESS’s own mysterious droning sounds. (Have you heard it before? This drone has always been in this building. Where does it come from?) The instruments’ keys have been wedged with cardboard, a customary practice within Charlemagne’s continuous-sound performances, such as his seminal organ work Schlingen-Blängen. And of course the divinities, (which you might have seen previously accompanying him on stage by the suitcasefull or featured in his videos). Here they are represented in a massive throng, as an attentive audience of creative muses. Charlemagne’s collaboration with these divinities has spanned his entire artistic career (at its largest, perhaps, with his 3-headed God Bear, which sat nearly 20-feet tall for Documenta 8). Indeed, he likes to remind us that the teddy bear was invented in his native region of Brooklyn in 1902 (a fact that hints at his personal, fervid ethnological research). Additionally, the divinities hopefully remind us of Charlemagne’s aversion and resistance to the dry, academic, formal, and intellectual art movements that frequently afflict Western art and music. The divinities’ assembly here may recall pictures of Charlemagne’s legendary art studio space, Charleworld, which houses thousands of such animals. Ah, yes, I’ve been to Charleworld, and it is an incredible, majestic, sonorous place. And now, with divinitusssanimalusssacréusssorganusss, we experience a tiny peek into Charleworld here in Chicago. Please enjoy, I invite you! Exhibition Review
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