Marzia Migliora
is currently showing at PERCYMILLER, a bijoux gallery in
the heart of London west-end. The exhibition consists of two pieces:
Marianne (2002) and Family (2005). The first is
an installation and the latter comprises of a drawing and a video;
some stills taken from it are also on show.
The installation
consists of 5 glass bowls, a set of two speakers surrounding each
one and black wires scattered on the floor. It is inspired by the
18th century now obsolete musical instrument the glass harmonica,
said to turn the listener of its melody mad due to its hypnotical
qualities. Marzia Migliora's piece has definitely this latter aspect
as she counts from one to twenty and back again, slowly and evenly,
with a calm voice which emphasises the mesmerising quality of the
piece. (My induced madness though is still open to debate).
Each sequence
of numbers echoes around the room and is punctuated at its end by
the vibration of the glasses which amplifies in the emptiness of
the space. The act of reciting numbers in their numerical order,
so simple and minimal, is yet so powerful, because of the visual
simplicity of the piece, the conceptual overtones become much more
intrinsic. We are displaced by the fact that we do not know what
the counting is for and we are forced to fill in the gaps by our
own conjectures. Memories of school days rush forth with the didactic
indoctrination of mathematical formulas, maybe it is repetition
as a way of learning; but that seems too rigid and simplistic an
explanation. Maybe it is the act of categorising and organising
the world into an orderly fashion, a personal mantra or a recitation
to regain control. It could be the passing of time, but this is
also displaced as her voice counts from twenty back to one, back
to twenty, to one and so on and we are stuck in a warp forever in
the same moment. However we are made aware of this moment, of the
warm light of the gallery irradiating from the windows onto the
cold blue wintry world outside. The piece make us aware of our stance,
of our relation to the other viewers of the show, of the walls,
of our body. Furthermore the work is placed on the floor which forces
us to squat down as a child would to further examine it. It is in
this moment of closeness, staring at the quarts bowls, waiting for
them to ring out that the simple beauty of the piece suddenly makes
itself visible.
Family,
the next piece on view, is placed in an alcove of the room adjacent
to Marianne. The video shows a close up of Marzia Migliora's
head slightly tilted forwards whilst she is in the act of detangling
knots from her curls. The video is placed horizontally at waist
level, to view it we are forced to stoop over it, putting us in
a position of power over it but also of intimacy with it. It is
encased in a rectangular container, a highly aestheticized vessel
of such beautiful design that it could easily belong to Philip Starck's
portforfio. On the wall behind at eye level, there is a drawing
on white paper. The word family has been inscribed on its surface
by forming the letters with the artist's own hair, supposedly collected
during the making of the video. Again as in Marianne, an obsessive,
compulsive repetition takes place, the disturbing and evocative
action of the incessant unknotting of the curls and its knotting
again on the paper. Little strands of hair escape their embroidery
on the white surface, there is tension between the sowing of this
fragile material in forced geometric shapes and those hairs which
have freed themselves from such brutal action and have regained
their original kink. It is at once attractive and repulsive, beautifully
crafted with a care belonging to past times yet reminiscent of the
remains left by a messy flatmate after having a bath. The tangles
that are formed are brutishly unknotted, as if by forcefully trying
to remove them, the family's complications and problems will disappear.
The action is futile though, not only for the perpetual re-growth
and re-tangling of the hair but also for the impossibility of true
and final detachment. These strands hold the artist DNA, her biological
make up, the essence of her identity, they are tied to Migliora
as the letters are on the paper and their unplucking will never
be final.
I am fascinated
by the repetitive actions of the video, the delicious lines of the
drawing and the idea of a single strand of hair holding all the
characteristics of a person's genealogical tree. I am hypnotised
again and I lose track of time as I start reminiscing about my own
family. Even if the piece speaks in a universal language, I wish
to be taken inside Marzia Migliora's personal world, of her own
experiences. I I wonder about the circumstances that brought the
piece into being and wish she could have been in the gallery to
engage in conversation.
Gaia Persico
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