Wire Tuazon Reveals Mystic Truths, Waits for Godot, Shoots at Steel (and Misses the Bounding Deer)

BY MADS BAJARIAS | It’s always exciting to view a work that pushes the boundaries. The stupor of humdrum life is cast off and one's senses come alive. One becomes more observant and critical as a way of respecting the artist's exertions.

In Wire Tuazon’s last recent exhibit in The Podium, we got eyefuls of boundary-pushing. His “After Bruce Nauman: Forethought and Afterthought” (diptych with Braille which reads: “Bouncing balls for Samuel Beckett”) signals an artist who's impatient to break boundaries, march into unknown territory, and has the gumption to match.

What’s new about it? For starters, it asks its viewers to google “Nauman” and “Beckett” when they get home! Also, "Nauman and fleeing deer," "Beckett and bed," and "Beckett + Nauman + deer + Rubik's Cube." Do I appreciate being told by an artwork to look things up in Wikipedia? In this case, no, I don’t mind. I’m a bit of a nerd anyway.

In his collection titled “Talisman Bomb,” Tuazon used stainless steel, various paints, a firearm (to shoot bullets into the steel), found objects and, messages in Braille. But perhaps the most important ingredient here is the confidence with which he mentions Bruce Nauman and Samuel Beckett in the title and Braille, respectively, as a kind of challenge to his viewers and critics. A gauntlet thrown. A serious signal of intent.

Why Nauman and Beckett? What conceptual and philosophical treasures do they represent here? Are these names essential in getting an understanding or enjoyment of Tuazon’s work? Or are these names thrown into the mix as a kind of conceptual joke and not meant to be taken seriously? Was Tuazon sincere in the metaphorical sense or ironic in a philosophical sense when he decided to employ the names of Nauman and Beckett in his work? Are we even sure that the Braille text reads as Tuazon says it reads?

One more question: Is it a good sign to bring up the names of giants like Nauman and Beckett into your works? An artist who does this treads on thin ice. Nowadays, if you look hard enough, everything references something else. But heavy-handed references could be viewed with suspicion as crutches to prop up a middling work.

After doing my research (Oh, okay, a rapid read-through in Wikipedia, sue me!), I learned that Bruce Nauman is an artistic icon best known for his spiral neon sign which reads: “The True Artist Helps the World by Revealing Mystic Truths.” He did this goofy (or profound, depending on your state of mind) neon statement in 1966.

When he was asked if he believed that statement set in neon? Nauman replied, “I don’t know; I think we should leave that open.”

Nauman used witticism and word-play to mix levity with deep philosophical explorations on the nature of language and communication. For example, in his work “Drill Team,” Nauman lined up drill bits. In “Eating My Words,” a man eats food bits shaped like letters of the alphabet. In “Bouncing Balls,” Nauman used images, um, of human testicles. “From Hand to Mouth” is a literal representation of the distance between one’s hand to one’s mouth.

Nauman utilized sounds to add an aural dimension to his conceptual works. Tuazon could be paying homage to that by adding the Braille element to engage the sense of touch (Did Tuazon contemplate adding sounds as well?).

There is a spirit of fun in Nauman. An unpretentious and jokey appeal underpinned by serious investigations in communication.

Beckett is perhaps better known than Nauman. Beckett is famous for “Waiting for Godot,” that dark comedy where nothing happens. Beckett’s name is oftentimes used as shorthand for minimalism and absurdist art. Like Nauman, Beckett’s dark explorations were enlivened by humorous touches here and there—a humor (gallows humor, but humor nevertheless) that comes from the natural.

Big names like Nauman and Beckett carry connotations and when these are left like clues or guideposts in an artwork, a certain expectation is set in the mind of the viewer. For me, it is the lack of Nauman's and Beckett's playfulness that puzzles me the most about Tuazon’s “After Bruce Nauman...”

The more I look at Tuazon’s work, the more inclined I am to view it as a shifting set of analytical propositions. He uses text, image, the title, bullet holes, and the Braille message (each element not necessarily having any logical connection to the rest) to create a cacophony of possible meanings and a range of interpretations. If the text, image, title, bullet holes and Braille message are notes, they don’t add up to a grand symphony, orderly and beautiful. They just add up, in a jangled wall of sound—which isn’t ugly, either. Dissonance has a peculiar beauty.

At this point, it’s perhaps best to echo Nauman’s own words when asked if he believes the statement he made in neon: “The True Artist Helps the World by Revealing Mystic Truths.”

“I don’t know; I think we should leave that open.”

Viva Tuazon!

BY JAY BAUTISTA | “If You Aren’t Political Then Your Personal Life Should Be Exemplary.” This phrase comes from American artist Jenny Holzer’s "Please Change Beliefs" series which consisted of short statements or truisms, and I thought about it when I saw Wire Tuazon's "After Jenny Holzer: In the Darkest Hour, Let There be Light."

Jenny Holzer is famous for her use of running texts set against public spaces as background. Holzer likes to project her truisms on spaces like on the walls of old buildings or the façade of a movie house. Her works are meant to elicit reflections or reactions from passers-bys.

Looking at the pieces exhibited in Tuazon's recent show "Talisman Bomb," one cannot help but admire the extent at which the artist went through to achieve his conceptual intentions. Wire Tuazon takes a painstaking approach to his work and a Tuazon technique depicts three simultaneous and intertwined levels of visual narrative:

1. The title
2. The image, and
3. The texts.

The three are interconnected (the title to the image, the image to the text, the text to the title). It is like talking to someone having dinner as he is talking to someone else on the phone while keeping an eye on the TV screen. There is no narrative "center." Oh, there’s a fourth element here: for the visually-challenged, Tuazon has crafted a message etched in Braille: The message reads: “Your past is not my past, your future is not my future."

Wire Tuazon is a master of both iconography and iconology. He leaves it to the viewer to discover deeper truths. His previous works have dealt with text placed on incongruous picture-images to draw out new interpretations from an unlikely combination. Similar to a popular device in print advertising, Tuazon emblazoned seemingly randomly chosen words over seemingly randomly chosen images. The disruption caused by a line of text somehow confers a mystery or elusiveness to the entire work.

Wire grew up in Angono where senior visual artists copied Botong Francisco’s works to sell. In fairness to these artists (there are 150 practicing painters in this small town), they signed the works as their own but the Francisco "signature" of rural idyll showing fishing, rice-planting and fiesta culture are very much in evidence.

Wire and his generation of artists in Angono have moved on from Francisco's idyllic Philippine countryside scenes. Was he consciously rebelling against the commercial practice and Francisco-centric tendency among older artists in his hometown? Whatever the answer is, it wasn’t an easy road for Wire, whose works are a radical departure from traditional Angono artworks, to find himself in Angono's art scene. It took a while before he was accepted in Angono and be accepted as one of them.

When Wire accepted his Cultural Center of the Philippines 13 Artists Award he had the whole town with its brass band cheering him (his late dad played cymbals for maestro Lucio San Pedro).

Wire Tuazon offers a distinct perspective in Philippine art history. He is one of the founders of Neo-Angono (remember their fight with National Press Club over a censored mural?) and was a student of UP Fine Arts College professor Bobby Chabet. Curator Bobi Valenzuela chose him as one of Boston Gallery’s upcoming painters to watch few years back.

But Wire is not one to be put in a box or have “isms” supplied to his name to describe his manner of expression using paint or installation material. Wire and his wife Keiye, together with artists their age established the biggest little artspace of our time, Surrounded by Water (where the works of Louie Cordero, Jason Oliveira, Lena Cobangbang, Geraldine Javier, Nona Garcia and the Ching brothers first saw light). Surrounded by Water is now reaping the fruits of their labot. Someday, a detailed account on contemporary Philippine art history should be written about this maverick artspace and Wire will have lots of stories to tell.

"Talisman Bomb" is Wire’s way of figuratively “slaying the fathers,” by literally shooting bullets into the stainless steel sheets that form the surface of his works.

By shooting holes into the steel, it's as if he is forcing the issue of breaking with certain traditions. "Talisman Bomb" is a big leap in terms of style, substance and artistic intent. With this landmark show, which vary from concurrent shows not just of style or materials but also in terms of concerns, themes, and agenda, a new promise emerges.

I have always thought that Wire was better as a painter than as an installation or conceptual artist. This show has proven me wrong.

In Angono, one shouts “Viva” at the patron saint as an expression of praise. I shout “Viva Tuazon.”

Catching Wire’s "Talisman Bomb" on the last day of its exhibition run at the cold and posh context of the Podium at the Ortigas Center, as if solicited on purpose, words failed me when I looked at the "freshly gunned down" pieces. I wonder who bought the pieces and when will people see them again?

The Intimacy of Slowness

BY JAY BAUTISTA | My all-time favorite moment is looking out the window when it is raining outside and the streets are wet. There is something appealing about it.

It’s the same feeling I get while gazing at Keiye Tuazon’s swimming-pool images. Her canvases swim with life. They have an ease about them, a fluidity, a calmness.

Ongoing at the 1/of Gallery, the exhibit title "Welcome Interruptions" could mean many things pertaining to Keiye and the directions she wants to pursue.

Keiye tells me:

“My fascination with water for my art started when I was in college. I used the image of a swimming pool to show personal space for a photography plate in Prof. Bobby Chabet's class. I was captivated by water's unpredictability, its movements. There is also something unreal about being submerged in water: The replications of images below the surface mirror issues of identity. My works are underwater images of people and objects that float, weave through, or swim around."

Keiye grew up surrounded by people who loved art deeply. Where art was on everybody's lips and came out of everybody's ears. Angono’s history of creative arts dates back to the 19th-century religious painters Juancho Senson and Pedro Piñon to National Artist Carlos "Botong" Francisco and the Angono School, to which Keiye's father and 150 painters of their generation belong.

On top of that, Keiye is married to trailblazing artist Wire Tuazon, with whom she helped organize "Surrounded By Water," an artspace where some of the most exciting young artists exhibited. (Think of Louie Cordero, Jason Oliveira, Lena Cobangbang, Geraldine Javier, Nona Garcia and the Ching brothers).

Having observed Keiye’s growth as an artist for more than a decade now, I must admit I have underestimated the painting prowess of this girl who has blossomed into a versatile painter. Mind you, after a five-year hiatus, she still holds that promise.

The comeback girl states:

“This underwater series started almost a decade ago, and it attempts to recapture images in a different perspective and explore the possibilities of the subject. Parang kasama ka nila sa ilalim ng tubig na sumasabay lumangoy sa kanila. Minsan you need to breathe.”

Keiye’s art explores slowness in relation to the fast pace of our times. Modern and postmodern modes of living have taken over not only space but also our conception of time. This is where Keiye's underwater images seems most effective in reminding us about.

She explains:

“The moving water serves as an element of defamiliarization, producing an ambiguity between the real and the unreal, thus setting new terms of encountering reality.”

Delan Robillos, co-owner of 1/of Gallery says, “I like Keiye's art. It is very interesting. I think she is a very consistent artist. In our art space, we like to give opportunities to young blood with great promise."

Keiye tells me:

“I want to explore more my underwater series, and I want to continue my work about twins (a subject I had worked on). I want also to do paintings that would investigate personal space, memory and childhood experiences.”

Summer is over. Take a dip for one last time, the water is fine.

1/of Gallery is located at 2/f Serendra, The Fort, Taguig.