watching us being watched

there is something fascinating about watching the way people approach your artwork. our the course of the development of this project, one of the priorities of this project was to ask people to approach the art work in an unfamiliar way, to make art that required people to engage more deeply than simply standing in front of a picture. we wanted our artwork to be a journey in and of itself. the result: an installation to invited engagement: touching to read all the poems, lighting incense, walking in bare feet, and maybe even pondering and praying. we wanted to pull more out of our audience.

so, on friday night, many people came to interplayce without knowing what to expect--both strangers, and people who knew the artists.

once the doors were open, there were four ways that strangers engaged (or didn't) our artwork.
1. poking head in the door and deciding it wasn't up his or her alley
2. coming a few feet in the door and reading the poster
3. coming ten feet in the door to read the booklet of poems and look at the installation from there
4. coming all the way into the room, walking around the installation, to read and engage all the work.

someone asked me if it bothered me that so many people peeked without coming in. i figured it was a natural result of this intention to encourage folks to engage in the artwork in a new way. not everyone will want to engage. that is that.

this was one of the interesting differences between displaying the installation in an art venue and in a church. at central united methodist, no one expected to engage art in their church, and with fewer expectations for what art should be, they were willing to engage. in an art venue, with a long list of expectations, that may have not been met, some people did not want to engage.

such is life. i hope we pushed the boundaries of art as much as we intended to.