The Curve gallery, which seems like it would be a mere passage wrapping behind the Barbican Concert Hall, is consistently one of the most inspiring venues for site-specific art in London. At previous exhibitions, I have conducted radio stations with my shadow and walked through a WWII-era bunker. The current show, by Céleste Boursier-Mougenot and up through the 23rd of May, is a delight.
One enters through a chain curtain and strobe light into a dark space featuring giant projections of electric guitar playing, accompanied by buzzing, droning noises that tickled my hungover eyelids. Around the bend, the visitor emerges into a happy feeling: Drenched in daylight bulbs, the end of the curve feels like emergence into Spring, a particularly poignant feeling as we here in London have been so thirsty for sunlight through this long, grey winter. (I'll take this moment to apologise for not contributing to this blog for several weeks, and point the blame somewhat at these ennui-inducing winter months.)
Walking along a wooden boardwalk, the visitor meets several small islands of sand and scrub. Positioned in the islands are musical instruments (electric guitars, basses and cymbals). A flock of zebra finches fly throughout the space, perching on the strings of the guitars and feeding on the cymbals, thus creating a soundscape a bit reminiscent of Neil Young's soundtrack to Dead Man. As the curators point out, "The piece relies on the visitors' movements around the space, which elicit counter movements by the birds, resulting in a subtle choreography."
We, along with the other visitors, couldn't help the big grins on our faces. A pair of lovebirds picked at each others' feathers and created a delicate electric quiver of a love song. Some finches would fly from one instrument to another, creating a light plucking noise with each landing. Clustered in cymbals filled with seed, groups of birds created a vibration like an avant-garde composition, as if it would swell into an epic melody, but in actuality never amounting to anything more than these staccato noises, over which sang the sweet chirps of the birds themselves.
In yet another intelligent use of the Curve, the arc of the space is cleverly utilized by keeping the bright, bird-filled area a secret, making the journey's end all the more joyful and revelatory.
If you are able to stop by the Barbican any time over the next couple of months, we highly recommend this experience. If you're not in town, this video will give you the idea.
