Island

The wind blows upon a white translucent world. The houses in the islands, the invisible people in the houses, oscillate and vacillate… they refract your thoughts. They rise up towards being; they fall down onto nothingness. They are opaque and they are transparent; they reunite and they disperse. The wind blows and sends you adrift, distances you from the object you were contemplating. You seek to seize the subject with your imagination but it eludes you. Words cannot draw it, there is only sight. Infinite things flow freely in your reverie, but you can arrest none. You look at the tiny houses, their fragile islands, the light broken by forests, the shifting geography, the flowing water, the running ink. You try to put everything together, but it escapes you. You listen to the wind blow.
Myriam Tapp’s work Island constitutes a seductive yet elusive experience. Objects and sensations conduct the spectator through a stream that never stops; she is induced into reverie. The substance of the work, more than the materials of which it is made, seems to be that of dreams. Without a concrete object upon which to fix his attention, the viewer constantly displaces his gaze, draws his mind onto something different, seeks to unveil another idea or memory. Every moment there is something new that appeals to him or her. Experiencing the work becomes an eventful journey across the substances of the mind, through imagination and memory. Instead of resting on an island, our psyche crawls through the interstices that separate subjective states. Our own mental process becomes integrated into the content of the work.
Our subjectivity, the lenses through which we refract and interpret what we apprehend, is that ever shifting current of air and water. It is what separates the islands, the houses, the people. Yet, it is also what unites them.
~Gustavo Larach

Island, porcelain, string, video projection / porcelaine, fil, projection vidéo, 9” x 9” x 1”, 2011