Truth is a largely subjective and challenging aspect of human existence, especially in these times of political division. Physical objects present a shared reality and an external point of reference, to which we can relate (although don’t always agree). Consider the artist Sophie Eisnerwhich creates an armature for connection types that are generally intangible.
At times, Eisner’s work resembles dramatic sculptures composed entirely of coil-welded steel. These vessels could become instruments, activated by the performance. She also likes to cast common objects – tubs, sinks, funnels and blocks – in some of her favorite materials, like silicon and concrete, manipulating them into abstract echoes of their former functions. Other times she draws other people interacting with these shapes, playing silicone pots like a row of drums or hanging silicone sheets over their heads.
A recent photo series artist image capture Beatrice Escobar in a performance in the Hundred Mile Wilderness area of Piscataquis County Maine, tossing nets made by Eisner into the air with a set of tools made by himself. Literally and figuratively, Eisner casts a wide net.
Many of the objects produced by Eisner could be mistaken for ready-mades, but with rare exceptions, the artist laboriously manufactures the majority of his works from components such as silicon, concrete or metal solder. ‘steel. “The material comes through how function and intimacy connect to bodies, memory, place and relationships,” she said. Hyperallergic.
As a post-graduation evolution of his MFA work at the Cranbrook Academy of Art, Eisner developed “Sound is remote touch(2016), a work that began as a hands-on attempt to build a giant coil pot made entirely of welded steel. She held the head of the welding torch in one hand and a piece of thin rod in the other hand and melted the thread into itself.This process continues to be important in his practice today.The piece quickly evolved from an exploration of function to metaphor.
“At that time, I thought a lot about the scars,” she said. “And how welding is like a scar; it is a place where there is a break and a rapprochement, stitched together. And if I do something that is all scar tissue?”
The artist turned the sculpture into a performance when she discovered that the fine strands of metal inside the work, a by-product of the welding process, could be scraped off to create a form-amplified musical effect. of the room’s wide-mouthed bowl, producing an instrument somewhere between harp, steel drum and kalimba.
These welded forms also appear in his 2015 Cranbrook dissertation, “It certainly happened,” (2015) who employs them as scar-riddled substitutes in an abstract composition with the impression of a charred door and an undefined, sooty sheet of bendable silicone. The variable tableau seeks, in part, to uncover the emotional reality of a series of two house fires in the Berkshires that Eisner and her family experienced when she was three and five years old.
“I really felt the most Me when I was there,” she said. “My sense of family and love is very much tied to this house and this little piece of land.” Eisner grew up holding the trauma of this incident, hanging out clothes every night so she could grab them in case of another emergency. The first fire was declared an electrical accident, but further investigation revealed that both incidents were part of an anti-Semitic arson pattern in the area. The play addresses the nature of memory and the evolving understanding of the event as an intentional, threatening, and direct attack on one’s family.
“There is no absolute truth,” she said. “It certainly happened, but also this other thing happened, or I experienced it that way…that other person experienced it that way.”
This statement applies broadly to many of Eisner’s later works, including the ironically named “Absolute truth(2019) at Simone DeSousa Gallery in Detroit, which further explores poured silicon to create a series of interconnected tubs that mimic a hospital’s newborn ward, a row of sinks, or troughs of food in a soup kitchen. Eisner also pours concrete into shapes that roughly mimic the torsos of free-standing telephone booths, a shape Eisner fondly calls “rounded rectangles”.
“It’s kind of ubiquitous, it’s the shape of an iPhone, it’s the shape of street signs, of a computer,” she said. “I’m curious how, in different orientations and at different scales, that means it’s different things. And it’s also like a washbasin or a bathtub, which for me is the object par excellence of intimacy and utility.
More recently, Eisner used a ready-made electric guitar as the centerpiece of new work encompassing ideas about the shared experience in isolation that is linked to, but not limited to, the COVID pandemic. -19. Rather than carrying in a speaker to amplify the sound, music played on the guitar can only be heard in a circle of “listening stations”, created by stethoscope-style headphones that plug directly into the instrument.
“I love the direct connection between musician and listener, the intensity of communication,” Eisner said. “You hear these physical vibrations from their fingers on the channeled strings to your eardrums. You all share an experience and hear the same music, but because of how acoustics work, each person hears something different.
The piece contemplates the years of pandemic isolation that have hampered global society and opportunities to come together. As we exercise the scar tissue of the past and consider the lasting impact of COVID-19 on our perceptions of time, space and memory, now is the best time for an artist like Eisner to highlight the strength of connection between people.
