Galerie Mezzanin

While much important modern sculpture has been exploring the

space between sculpture and architecture, some recent Israeli

artists have produced work of considerable quality by locating

themselves someplace between sculpture and furniture. There

are serious precedents for this, most important for our present

purposes, that of Eva Hesse, from whom Etti Abergel, from the

beginning of her career, has drawn a sustaining sanction.

Eva Hesse can be said to have furniturized her art as a way

of personalizing it, and personalizing it as a way, perhaps less

consciously, of feminizing it. It is possible that the future might

see the rise of the women’s movement in the seventies and later as

a major factor in the lessening interest that Western art began to

show in the formal investigation of its own properties that began

roughly with Cezanne and dominated ambitious art through the

1960s. With the rise of the women’s movement and the large

growth in the number of women artists, certain concerns that had

been either suppressed or relegated to the secondary began to

emerge as paramount. Such concerns include intimacy, sexuality,

the relations between the sexes, childhood, memory and above

all, unresolved tensions rooted in certain ever-present dualities:

male/female, artist/wife, studio/home.

A piece which Eva Hesse had destroyed (but not before it

was photographed) and which she called Total Zero concisely

embodies this new art attitude. Total Zero is a worked-over

inner tube, to which a long, curling rod is attached. Immediate

associations with the imagery involve, of course, the penetration

of the ovum by a sperm cell. The larger idea of woman as a “hole”

also inflects the work. It would seem beyond doubt that Hesse had

the work destroyed because the imagery was simply too obvious,

even corny. Total Zero is (was) personal and feminine, and

it may not be out of place to quote here Hesse’s formulation of

her attack: in the same year, Hesse confided to her diaries that

she wished her work to be “…endless, totally encroaching, and

irrational.”

“Endless, totally encroaching and irrational” comprises

about the best description of the overall impression given by

Etti Abergel’s work that I can imagine, and that description,

moreover, is perfectly completed by Hesse’s afterthought: “With

its own rationale, even if it looks chaotic.”

A work of 1998 declares more explicitly than her later work a

major theme in Etti Abergel’s art: the theme of separation. The

piece is harshly divided into two sections. In one, some distance

from the other, a plain student’s desk, chair and lamp are installed

in a corner. In the other is a piled mass of objects, stiffened in a

plaster-of-Paris coating so as to create the impression of timefrozen

artifacts. The objects include baggage cases, shopping

baskets, pillows, stuffed sacks and bags. Leaving home to attend

art school is not usually a traumatic event, but in Abergel’s deeply

traditional Sephardic community it is simply unheard of for an

unmarried woman to leave home at all, and the idea of attending a

school of fine arts is close to incomprehensible. And, as expressed

in the piece, nothing in the world of art provided even a touch of

the sustaining warmth of the community from which she had so

bewilderingly estranged herself.

Although I have seen a great many so-called “site-specific”

works, I know of no artist who controls the given space with

the subtlety and ingenuity of Etti Abergel. In Untitled

(Fragments) shown in the Artists’ House in Jerusalem in

1999, the “site” was two rectangular rooms separated by a doorlike

opening connecting them. A neat “path” ran between the two

rooms and traversing this path led viewers back and forth, from

one site (and the powerful presence of its “non-site”: memory,

home, childhood, institutions, veiled and unspoken personal

experiences) to the other. The two areas were strikingly different:

one seemed coldly institutional, the central object being a surreal

bed/hammock with a stool or a chair beside it. It might as well

have been a recovery room as a bedroom: indeed, the merging

and submerging of different ambiences one into and out of the

other is of the very essence of Abergel’s art. That room had an

actual window in the wall behind and above the bed/hammock,

and a strip of “rug” or “carpet” ran from the head of the bed to

a small table, muzzled in a kind of stiffened gauze, beneath the

window. On the table lay piled pieces of a torn drawing – the only

element found in both rooms. The window had been carefully

“drawn” upon by the artist in a most uncareful-looking manner,

using scraps of torn brown paper, tape of various kinds, etc. It was

as if the window, the light of the mind, was damaged, blinded.

The room also symbolized, it became clear by comparison, the

isolation of leaving a traditional and loving community for the

incomprehensible and misunderstood life of a woman in art.

The adjoining room, by contrast, was crowded with more

open, more evocative pieces. If one entered from the front,

the first object one saw was a column, vaguely suggestive of

Brancusi’s Endless Column, but far less stable, less balanced

and more “haphazardly” worked upon. Further inspection led to

a typically Abergelian device: the melding of a distant illusion to

art with a much more concrete image of what, in this case, turned

out to be a stack of mixing bowls, formed from a mold. To the

left, a simple, narrow table-closet, on the surface of which lay the

torn fragments of a drawing, and within a neat pile of pillow-like

forms suggesting the comforts of home but stiffened by memory

into materials of a contradictory hardness. There were areas of

this room that demanded the viewer get down on all fours to take

in details or peer into enclosures in which forms were mosaiced

with bits and pieces of photographs (which, in Abergel’s work,

always seem connected with memory).

On one wall hung, like a traditional painting, a relief of what

looked like a cast of a round, Oriental-style pillow. Embedded

within it were circular strands of a bronze, or golden-colored

wire. The piece seemed to me somehow out of place, and when

I had a chance, I mentioned this to the artist. She considered my

question, and remarked that at the time, the room seemed to her

to need a “resting place,” a place, so to speak, “to lay your head.”

She drew my attention to several wiry clusters of the same golden

wire to be found here and there in the installation. She identified

the wire with the golden thread with which oriental women so

commonly sewed, and also, very consciously, with the golden

spool with which clever Ariadne led Theseus from the labyrinth.

She wasn’t sure, she said, if she would find the need for “a place

to lay the head” so necessary if she were to install that work

again. At the time, the pillow-form reminded her of the softness

of the belly, even, perhaps, the security of the womb. I thought

of Eva Hesse’s Total Zero and wondered if Etti would find a

reproduction of it interesting. She did, very.

Etti Abergel, like Jackson Pollock, had learned a lot from

Jungian analysis, and one has the impression that every line she

draws and every detail she constructs involves some Jung-like

evocation of the archetypes of a Sephardic childhood mingling

with images of a less certain, less comforting and fragmented

present in constant search for the mature integration of Self,

which Jung calls “individuation.” It is a dream: no artist has ever

achieved it. It is the forms that the search brings forth that make

an artist.

 

The many-meaninged archetype is the natural language of

Abergel’s art. When I mentioned to her my impression that she

seemed to work from “the inside out,” that her work needed

to be anchored in a kind of hut, the word “hut” was unclear to

her in English. I went to Sukkah for the closest word I knew in

Hebrew, and she, in turn, added the word Miklat [shelter], and

then “cell,” which she preferred. We had, in just a few seconds,

brought up three or four of the possible “meanings” attached to

the Jungian archetype “shelter” and all of them seemed to apply

to the enclosing structures in Etti’s work. Similarly, when I drew

her attention to certain weighted, Hesse-like forms that hang

from the top and sides of her No Way Out, shown at the Tel

Aviv Artists’ House in 2000, we quickly passed from “weight” to

“wait” to the idea of time itself, which, it turns out, Abergel often

thinks of as a “weight.” She spoke of the past as a “weight.”

One of the ways in which this sense of the past is literally

projected as a weight, is the seemingly random, lattice-like form

that hangs from above, covering the opening in the far wall of the

hut. That, it turns out, has its origins in the honeycombs which

the artist associates with her early, rural childhood, as well as the

complex, filigreed Mehitza [partition] which separates the sexes

in Sephardic synagogues, mazes all.

And, like an archetype, the form that exists in No Way Out

is all and at the same time none of these. There is little one can

do but admire the way in which, in the work of so many women

artists, interior pain and confusion is projected into works of art

of immense psychological depth and complexity.

Etti thinks of No Way Out as a kind of “interrupted” work,

one which was not completed to her satisfaction. Inspired basically

by her admiration for Giacometti’s Palace at 4 A.M. (1932-33),

she found herself not quite able to manage the extensions from

the hut-like enclosure into the surrounding space in the way she

would have wished, the proper relations between “felt” space

and “concrete” space not established as precisely as she wished.

The kernel of the work, the hut-like enclosure, is the only part of

the work with which she seemed totally at peace, and its various

components contained for her, the proper balance of immediate

and remembered, felt and concrete, real and imagined.

The theme of separation and growth also dominated the

most recent work of Abergel’s I have seen, a work installed at

the Nachshon Gallery in the Spring of 2001. One wall seemed

to be given over altogether to a swooping, curvilinear suggestion

of “origins,” centered in a kind of tangle of birth. The central

feature of this wall is a circular form much like the “place to rest

the head” in the Artists’ House installation two years before. The

entire image is anchored to the floor, in stone. A simple cord,

strung across the room connects this wall to the wall opposite,

just enough to suggest the idea of departure and estrangement.

The second wall, its forms more rigid and geometric, evokes

themes of “education” (a pencil that can be animated to scribble,

meaninglessly), assimilation, individuation. Further along the

same wall, toward the door, the “cell” of estrangement and isolation

is created yet again.

Perhaps the most brilliant aspect of this installation is a

column, which, at first notice, seems to be merely an unfortunate

“fact” of the exhibition space. It is only after examination that

the viewer realizes, first, that the column was made and placed

by the artist and second, that it obstructs virtually every view;

almost every step one takes in looking at the work. That single

form, encapsulates the conception of a “self” that sees itself as

“fitting” in no “place” in the world, as well as the embodiment of

all those obstructions, bars, impediments, real and psychological,

that constantly frustrate her attempts to find that place. In my

opinion, the work at Nachshon was the most successfully realized

of all the works of Etti Aberbel I knew, because, I think, of her

growing trust in formal control, her willingness to let placement,

composition and structure do more of the talking.

 

It seems to me important, in concluding, to stress that in

describing “furniturization,” I do not think of myself as describing

a “movement.” It is more as if what I have called the space

between sculpture and furniture is a resource for a strategy, a

strategy which some Israeli artists have devised as a way to draw

into Israeli art a quality of narrative that they seem unable to do

without. The strategy, at least in the work of Etti Abergel, seems,

so far at least, immune to the two infections which are fatal to

art made in Israel: sentimentality and corniness. When the gifted

artist, Dalit Sharon, asked me why I thought that Israeli artists

did so much more with the suggestions found in Artschwager,

Nauman and Hesse, than the Americans did, I could think of no

answer other than to remind her of Wittgenstein’s definition of the

verb “to understand.” To understand, he said, is to know how to go

on. For reasons that might require another essay, later Americans

simply did not know how to go on, and Israeli artists did.

 

 

Philip Leider was the editor in chief of Art Forum Magazine and is prof. Emeritus, Art History, Bezalel Academy of Art and Design, Jerusalem.

 

This essay originally appeared in Eretz Acheret Magazine, 7, Nov./Dec. 2001.

 

from: Installation Diary, Etti Abergel