Paul Swenbeck:
Specter of the Brocken

Morris Gallery, Pennsylvania Adademy of Fine Arts
September 18 - November 21, 2004

reviewed by
James Rosenthal

It’s great to see an artist finally loosen up at the Morris Gallery at PAFA and have a bit of fun with the space. Paul Swenbeck has set up a moody and amusing -- if not seasonal -- installation that utilizes the entire space and activates the room. The casual low tech quality of the sculpture/objects offsets the daunting formality of the room and the seriousness of the Furness building. The show is not unlike a teenager’s basement where the occupants expound on the mysteries of the universe over a bong. The space becomes a modified head shop complete with black lights, skulls, and voodoo references of all kinds. The fake cinder block wall adds a final theatrical touch. All this might not be taken altogether seriously if not for the fine use of hanging shapes, cast shadows, and projected light and color which helps create a carnival fun house atmosphere. But there’s more to it than that.

Swenbeck presents overlapping stories in three tableaus. The first deals with the Nordic myth of the Wild Hunt which is illustrated by many strange cast resin creatures and bottles of magic potions set before their rampage is to begin. Another narrative stems from Dungeons and Dragons game while the third is based on the Faust story. This overarching piece illustrates the pagan myth of the Brocken (or witches’ hill) and it is effectively ethereal. The transparent shapes rise towards the ceiling where the north light is blocked out. They throw shadows that instantly evoke other worldliness or a dream state. The history of shadows in art is a long one and it has been suggested that the tracing of shadows lead to the development of painting. They were also seen as evil apparitions and their distorted shapes created by flickering firelight were seen as having a diabolic life of their own. Swenbeck’s use of projections help unify the three tableaus and together they give an aura of ominous foreboding and uncomfortable humor. The updating of these myths may or may not serve as metaphor but the nature of the installation gives the work a very current anxiety. This reminds me of Kara Walker's silhouettes which also conjure similar connotations via superimposition of antebellum superstitions with some of our own. There are, of course, many nods to the influential and underrated artist Paul Thek. The use of sculpture as narrative elements also reminded me of Matthew Barney, minus the vaseline of course.

Swenbeck mixes up these odd stories and illustrates them with a gooey glee. Born in Salem, Massachusetts, it is easy to see where his interest comes from. The Halloween inferences are obvious and can’t be coincidental. Neither are they without some depth. But there is an ominous sense that Swenbeck is responding to the world at large.

As for Halloween, it has become a more important and genuine holiday and stands out as the only mass cultural event where taboo and the abject are celebrated. Every suburban house potentially makes its own installation tableau and every kid on the block does a performance piece. This phenomenon not only evokes past festivals and produces a sense of wonder and superstition to which we are not immune but underlines our obsession with things beneath the day to day. Count the number of gothic stories in TV and film lately. Vampires, witches, and wizards abound all year round. Are these our current way to seek a moral truth, through an abject or negative reality? It is surely more than just for the purposes of escape. Oddly enough, Halloween also creates an odd sense of community that does not exist anymore. When else do you knock on a stranger’s door?

At a time when there are plenty of dark forces at work in the world, Swenbeck’s work resonates considerably pointing to a historical collective unconscious which may have been lost. The strange ancient myths he investigates are comparable to many of our own industrialized nightmare scenarios, though in our case, it is usually science, rather than demons, that bring on catastrophe. Swenbeck summons up gothic specters that not only react with the building surprisingly well but somehow awaken the spirits of the place -- Eakins had his own dark side -- and our current myths mingle uncomfortably with those of puritanical Old New England. This may indirectly throw into stark contrast the black and white battle of moral values so much in the news. The recent election itself may be alluded to as a triumph of misapplied faith over reason, which seems to be indicative of a very spooky mass psychosis; not unlike the Swenbeck’s Salem Witch Trials. Is it now Jesus Freaks vs. Conspiracy Nuts? I saw a low budget documentary recently that suggested that the delirium, fits, and visions of Salem’s accused in the 17th century may have been caused by ingestion of an LSD-like fungus on the grain of Salem. Are we reading conspiracy theories onto the past or is it simply applying science to old mysteries? In any case, this is where I came in; a nexus of drugs, demonology, faith and ignorance. Nice one, Paul.

© 2004 James Rosenthal and InLiquid.com; image copyright © Paul Swenbeck