Room with a view

The art of instructions

by Leon Nigrosh

DO IT At the Iris and B. Gerald Cantor Art Gallery, College of the Holy Cross, through April 8.

When we walk into a gallery, we have the expectation of being enchanted by canvases awash with magnificent brushwork, seduced by the richly contoured depth of chiaroscuro, or enthralled by an artist's vision. But enter the Cantor Art Gallery, and we see a bicycle leaning against a wall, chairs and a table with writing implements, and a vase of flowers, and a tire lying in the middle of the floor. The question immediately arises, "Is this art?'' The answer is "No -- and yes.''

According to Joanna Ziegler, chair of the Visual Art Department at Holy Cross, what we are witnessing is an experience in artistic decision-making, an opportunity to "get into the head of an artist.'' The premise for this exhibition is based on a catalogue, produced by Independent Curators Incorporated, containing written instructions by 30 artists from around the world. Students, faculty, gallery visitors can chose particular examples from this list and proceeded to create the 15 works currently on display.

Precedent for this conceptual art can be traced directly back to 1919, when Dada artist Marcel Duchamp wrote to his sister with instructions on how to make his wedding present for her. In the late '50s and early '60s, John Cage wrote instructions detailing music/ performance activities to his students which they, in turn, interpreted and produced. In her pre-Lennon days, painter Yoko Ono, rather than showing finished works, displayed sheets of paper with written ideas on how someone else could make her paintings. In reaction to the aesthetic of Abstract Expressionism, Minimalist artist Donald Judd merely drew construction drawings and had his metalwork fabricated to order. Dan Flavin made sketches and had electricians and workmen set up his fluorescent-light installations.

The idea of art-by-instruction became more popular in the late '70s, when art institutions realized they could exhibit works by artists unable to travel long distances. An entire exhibition could be mounted by having the artist simply send instructions.

The current exhibit at the Cantor Gallery, a reconstituted version of a "travelling exhibition,'' first organized in France in 1993, raises a number of questions regarding what exactly constitutes the art. Is it the original idea explained in the instructions? Could the art be just the actual words on the wall cards? Does the art come from within the physical activity performed by the anonymous Holy Cross builders? Or is the work the assembled materials which bring the idea into actuality?

The art encompasses all of the above, along with the added ingredient of interactive audience participation. For example, German artist Andreas Slominski's instructions tell us to "tip a bicycle seat so that the front points upwards and use the seat to squeeze lemons.'' The idea need go no further to spark our minds to imagine, for better or worse, such an activity. Slominski's words placed on a gallery wall gives them greater artistic credence. That some unknown individual actually brought in an entire bicycle and arranged it according to instructions -- complete with a bowlful of cut lemons -- further solidifies the concept as a specific work of art. But the work remains incomplete until the viewer twists a lemon half onto the point of the upturned seat.

Austrian artist Erwin Wurm's False/Right, Right/False remains merely a plywood box until his posted directions are carried out by someone willing to lie down in the box and hold the top up with his or her feet while a gallery attendant snaps a Polaroid. Only then does the experience manifest itself as art. The coda to this piece, which attests to the success of the work, is a noticeably expanding array of these photos tacked to a nearby wall.

While a realization of Lawrence Weiner's instructions to cut a three-foot-square hole in the wall may draw raised eyebrows (especially by members of the HC administration), Spanish artist Joan Brossa's suggestion to draw an umbrella and call it Dartboard and drawing a dartboard entitled Umbrella elicits a more conventional response -- admiration for the anonymously produced work and a chuckle at the premise.

This is a must-see exhibition. Although the concepts might be considered quirky, the individual involvement in carrying out the procedures, and -- in many cases -- the visual resolution of the works, provide a genuinely thought-provoking and personal experience for every visitor. And to top it all off, there are special Do It instructions for you to take away. My favorite is Allan Kaprow's Chores: "Sweeping the dust from the floor of a room; Spreading the dust in another room, so it won't be noticed; Continuing daily . . . "

The Cantor Art Gallery is open Monday through Friday from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. and Saturday and Sunday from 2 to 5 p.m. Call 793-3356.