Interactive audio sculpture created as part of "To Be Continued: Troubling the Queer Archive" at the Carleton University Art Gallery, 2020
To download the project audio, click this link
Description: This sculpture was conceived as part of "To Be Continued: Troubling the Queer Archive", an exhibition set to open September 19th in a semi-virtual form at Carleton University Art Gallery in Ottawa, Canada. The show, curated by Anna Shah Hoque and Cara Tierney, examines non-Western LGBTQ histories, and so my premise was to create this life-sized, figurative archive of LGBTQ identities in Middle Eastern history.
I used the visual reference to henna -- a very interpersonal, bodily art practice -- to make a conductive surface out of copper tape and conductive pigments, which works as an antenna for a capacitive sensor, which, in turn, controls the clarity of the audio that emits from the speaker in the figure's mouth. The audio tells the story of Qamar-al-Zaman and Princess Budour from the 1001 Nights. With records dating back to the 14th century Middle East, it tells a fun, raunchy tale of gender-bending and same-sex desire, as well as misunderstandings, adventure, and mischievous Jinn. It challenges the way gender norms in Muslim history are understood, and to hear it, you need to get very physically close to the sculpture, generating a kind of intimacy with your body’s electric capacitance and the sculpture's androgynous form and many limbs.
While this was initially conceived as a directly touchable artwork, it was re-thought a bit due to the pandemic. I ended up using distance- instead of touch-sensing to perform the volume-control function without, y’know, risking people’s lives.
To historically preserve the story archive, I created a perma.cc link (https://perma.cc/79JP-AGY6) with the project audio, schematic, and various forms of documentation, all of which can be accessed through the QR code on the figure’s belly.
In my mind, this figure is a sort of time traveller from a future in which gender and sexual identity is freely determined, sent back in time to tell us of a part of our history which we’ve forgotten. This is part of why it’s covered in crystals: used for timekeeping, I think of its body and our bodies as historical archives in their own right, accessed though intimacy, connection, and the intrinsic capacitance they create.
Updates:
I wrote a blog post here detailing the process of creating the sculpture: http://panseeatta.com/index.php/2020/09/09/the-moon-upon-its-fourteenth-night/