Magnetic North

an installation for
rusted photographs and sound

2003

Magnetic North has shown at Works / San Jose
and at the 1100 Demonbreun Building through Zeitgeist
in Nashville, Tennessee.

click on images for details
Magnetic North
in San Jose
Magnetic North
in Nashville
Magnetic North is an installation that investigates, explores, and documents the morphology of a corrosive process contextualized by a geometric structuralism, cyclical sound elements, and metaphoric ephemera. Central to this installation is the slow-motion chemical process that occurs when a solution of water, cupric sulfate, aluminum chloride, and rust is applied to a black and white photograph. Initially, this solution -- possibly in reaction to the silver nitrate intrinsic to the black and white photograph or perhaps to the residual chemicals left behind from the development of the photograph --fixes onto the surface as vibrant cupric greens and encrusted blood reds. However, over time, these colors shift towards far more muted tones towards purplish grays, off whites, and autumnal browns. The timeframe for this color shift is directly proportional to how much direct sunlight these chemically treated photographs are exposed to. For example,with an average exposure to indirect sunlight within an enclosed space, this process can take up to three to six months for dramatic changes to occur. As my interest is in this project is only tenuously connected to chemistry, I am not entirely concerned with the forensics of this specific chemical process (i.e. why cupric sulfate reacts with silver nitrate). Rather, the purpose of Magnetic North is to present a network of information with a broad possibilities for metaphoric interpretations which, like the aesthetic objects themselves, shift through time. Thus, Magnetic North insists upon a mode of perception that is mutating beyond that of a linear, static set of objects.

For this installation, I have chosen to assemble large scale images out of a series of small photographs. Each of the smaller images is a 16” x 16” chemically treated photograph, housed within a black matte frame. When composed in groups of 25 or 40 elements, the large image emerges behind a structuralist grid, an intended byproduct of the regular repetition of 16” x 16” squares. These large images range in size from 90” x 90” (when comprised of 25 elements) and 90” x 144” (when comprised of 40 elements). Such a strategy of installation has evolved out of a neccessity to contextualize a vocabulary of decay (i.e. the chemically corroded photographs) within a ordered system, and to balance such a vocabulary of decay with an equally powerful semiotic opposite. These larger assemblages describe shadowy landscapes dotted with the totemic icons of technology (i.e. airplane vapor trails, aerial antennas, and architectural structures), lurking behind the application of rust and chemical corrosion.

It would be naive to assume that the casual observer would notice this subtle color shift within these altered photographs over such a long period of time; thus, I’ve contextualized Magnetic North with a sound installation as a strategy to shift the standards of perception away from the experience of a static object on a white wall to an experience with varying degrees of acceleration and velocity. This sound installation incorporates a series of speakers connected with thick, black wire which define a network of calligraphic lines, counterpointing the rigidity of the photographic grid. The sound that is broadcast from this speaker construction is a composition from shortwave radio, close looped feedback generation, electric disturbances, and field recordings that coalesce into fluctuating drone punctuated by nervous striations and organic textures.

I believe that this installation with all of its formalist conceits works as a collection of semiotic fragments which lend themselves towards an open-ended poetry. Or perhaps it is better stated within the geophysical metaphor that the true magnetic north in the arctic is constantly altering its position ever so slightly.

Jim Haynes - 2003