"Gravity and Grace"

From the pre-historic era through the middle-ages and into modern art, from neo-classism to present-day abstract art... if there is one thing we can learn from history, it is that art is just as fluid as the context in which it occurs. More accurately, art is in many ways a product of its context. Of the many transitions that [visual] art has undergone, one very interesting trend is the shift from being from the artist to being from the observer. Much of the beauty in modern art is not in what it says but, in what it doesn't. It communicates by leaving room for interpretation, boasting an intricate ability to morph in meaning and message.

Very recently, I had the distinct pleasure of seeing one of the current mediums through which artists incorporate this ability of their art to cater to their observers. Ghanaian sculptor, El Anatsui, allows the institutions that display his work to assemble his pieces as they wish!

The Brooklyn museum is one of America's oldest and New York City's second largest. Housing art from as far back as Ancient Egypt to as current as El Anatsui, it covers the range. With hundreds of thousands of square feet, it displays well over a million works from all over the world. While I didn't get the chance to admire the entirety of this amazing collection, I'm glad I was able to enjoy the little that I did.

Chief amongst these is El Anatsui's "Gravity and Grace" display on the top floor. Having just stepped out of the elevator, I wasn't sure what to make of the enormous snake like clusters of shimmering gold climbing up one of the walls ahead of me. As I walked closer, I began to realize the clusters were from material worth far less than gold. El Anatsui had meticulously strung together recycled tin lids with metal wires that carefully pierce their way through this grand structure.


This magnificent exhibition included 30 of Anatsui's works, 12 of which were floor/wall sculptures of this sort. It's the kind of art work that even those of us that are not artistically endowed can relish.

Shortly after, the darker set of materials used to weave together yet another masterful artwork, captured my attention. It reminded me of oddly popular plastic mats from my childhood in Ethiopia. The same shiny undertone and the slight inability to flow like smooth fabric, due to the more rigid bends that plastic wires preferred to assume. As I walked closer, I slowly began to see gold writings appear all over the display. This was no plastic mat; it was instead made of metal - specifically that which was carefully removed from Black Label Johnnie Walker bottle necks. Similar to the tin lids that snaked up the opposite wall, these metal scraps were also painstakingly knitted together with copper-like wires. As I stepped back again, the gold writings began to disappear and the wall piece came back to life.

It was in that moment that I realized where my mind had filled a gap: that transition from understanding the "sum of the parts" to regaining the depth of the "whole". Embedded in that metamorphosis lies the true beauty of El Anatsui's masterpieces.