In recent weeks, Cornellians have undoubtedly noticed the art structures assembled on campus, though they could be forgiven for failing to understand their significance.
Large and abstract in the extreme, the artworks have a message that may raise some eyebrows. Ranging from the “Phenomenology of Whiteness” to the “industrialized practice of wood framing” and “its problematic roots in early settler colonialism,” the pieces’ content should spark lively conversation on campus.
Compiled for Cornell’s Fifth Biennial art celebration, the collection consists of multiple art structures that have occupied Cornell’s central Arts Quad. This year’s project, themed “Futurities, Uncertain,” was commissioned by the Cornell Council for the Arts and assembled by Timothy Murray, Professor of Comparative Literature and Literatures in English. Its constituent works are designed to “forge futuristic intersections between art, social justice, biology, design, engineering and information science.”
One noticeable installation, composed of a slew of pink tapestry like hangings, dominates the grove of oaks in front of Lincoln Hall. Entitled, “At what point does the world unfold?” by Sarah Jimenez, a self professed Filipinx-Canadian artist, it seeks to “[call] into question the histories and spaces prior to the institution, as well as how spaces welcome certain bodies while excluding others.”
Jimenez’s artist description posits that “as it currently stands, the visual orientation [of Goldwin Smith Hall] signals empire, whiteness, maleness.” The implication is that Goldwin Smith Hall, and, by extension, the Arts Quad, are not welcoming spaces for non-white, non-male people. She draws her conclusions from Sara Ahmed’s essay, “A Phenomenology of Whiteness” which “draws on experiences of inhabiting a white world as a non-white body, and explores how whiteness becomes worldly through the noticeability of the arrival of some bodies more than others.” Cornell’s campus apparently contributes to whiteness, and is more welcoming to white bodies than nonwhite bodies.
Another conspicuous installation is “Unframe,” an approximately 25-foot tower made from the timber of fallen ash trees. The ash trees are a local species currently being decimated by an infestation of invasive beetles, called Emerald Ash Borers. “Unframe” was designed by Leslie Lok, an assistant professor in Cornell’s architecture department, and seeks to address the “industrialized practice of wood framing [which] emerged from a long and colonial American tradition of rapid wood construction and remains conceptually tied to its problematic roots in early settler colonialism.”
Lok takes issue with the fact that modern day framing allows for expansive urban and suburban communities by “offering cheap and quick building solutions.” Such practices encourage the use of “non-local fast-growing softwood from mono-cultural forests” and is connected to “the deforestation of lands across the Americas which itself was made possible by the violent, large-scale dispossession of Indigenous peoples and communities.” Lok does not address how abandoning or reducing these practices would affect the housing market, which is currently suffering from a “historic” housing shortage.
Also addressing the topic of housing is “Circulating Matters,” the climbable stairway and platform installed just in front of the Art Quad’s central Ezra Cornell statue. Made from the “deconstructed” materials of 206 College Avenue, “Circulating Matters” was born out of an outcry from “concerned academic and community stakeholders.” Because of the property’s historical significance, stakeholders sought to preserve and “reactivate” the materials.
“Circulating Matters” seeks to show “how systemic concepts and methods for direct reuse of building elements at scale can be developed and implemented by combining panelized deconstruction with circular construction principles for a site-specific architectural application.” The creator, Circular Construction Lab director Felix Heisel, is in the midst of a project to show that deconstruction and reuse is more efficient than demolition.
However, perhaps unintentionally, the piece may also underscore the significant need for development in Collegetown based on historical considerations. As noted in these pages, the Cornell area is experiencing a significant housing crunch, which may only be exacerbated in the coming years. Recent constructions have attempted to address this with large, affordable apartment complexes, changing the look and feel of the town once dominated by single family homes–like the now deconstructed 206 College Avenue, which will be rezoned and replaced by massive apartment buildings as a part of the new Catherine Commons. Balancing the needs of development and preservation has been an ongoing issue for local politicians.
These are just a few of the many constituent parts of Cornell’s 2022 Biennial. Cornellians can anticipate more installations, performances and exhibits to be shown in the coming weeks. They will address issues ranging from environmentalism to sexual rights. It is important that the assertions in these pieces do not go unquestioned. Is the arts quad’s architecture exclusionary toward non-white, non-male bodies? Should modern construction be revamped to be less industrial and more locally based? How much effort should developers dedicate to preserving both the materials and the feel of historical buildings? Students can and should engage with these ideas, talk about their implications, and come to their own conclusions about them.
