Task Three
Link to article: https://hyperallergic.com/401805/guggenheim-accused-of-supporting-animal-cruelty-in-new-exhibition/
Who: "Theater of the World" (1993 by artist Huang Yong Ping) participants
What: Art and China After 1989 exhibition
Where: Guggenheim Museum
When: October 6, 2017
Why: animal activism and the expectations of art
I am an artist and the notions behind this article and the production of this exhibit are interesting to me for many reasons: 1. in the West we have the tendency to very often impose our own cultural values on others, 2. art is not always subject to questions of morality, 3. there is much more art of this kind in existence than we care to acknowledge. This story does not represent my own standing or thoughts on the art pieces in question, the Guggenheim, or the artists who produced the works in question. I just really like the article as a catalyst for a story.
For those not up to date on the going ons of the art world "Theater of the World" is a work created in 1993 by artist Huang Yong Ping the description of which as given by the artist is: "wood and metal structure with warming lamps, electric cable, insects (spiders, scorpions, crickets, cockroaches, black beetles, stick insects, centipedes), lizards, toads, and snakes, 150 x 270 x 160 cm, Guggenheim Abu Dhabi (© Huang Yong Ping)" (Taken directly from the Guggenheim description of the work. The photograph used can be found in the Hyperallergic link included at the top of this article as well.) DISCLAIMER: I have not seen the work in person, this is just an interpretation.
The Story
It is cold in this box. So cold. The lizard sluggishly lifts his head and looks around - blackness. He puts his head back down and rests for what seems like an eternity.
With a sudden flash the world is bright. The world is so bright. Warmth comes flooding in - the lizard tumbles out of the box. A hoard of crickets is also dumped out on to the table. Spiders, scorpions, snakes, toads, beetles, all flood onto the table. They are sluggish too, lazy and confused by the sudden change in scenery. Poured out from boxes and freed from tanks their worlds are shattered and intermixed. The flat surface of the table is warm and inviting, but not all that big. Crickets chirp furiously, a nervous air stemming from their hoard. The lizard smells them, he hears them. The world is so bright and so warm. His limbs begin to wake up and his eyes adjust to the change.
The lizard spots the crickets immediately and beetles, so many beetles. He flicks his tongue tasting the air around him. Crickets and beetles he tastes. Warmth and brightness seep deeper into his body. As the world around him becomes clearer, the lizard becomes aware of a rustling sound. It is a sound he has heard before but he cannot place it. The lizard turns his body in an arc surveying the space. The crickets and beetles rush by in their hoard - panicked and overwhelmed he can smell their fear. Then dripping from the space above him the lizard spots spiders - weaving furiously creating webs to hide themselves from his eyes. Something darts by, the lizard, now warm spins to follow it. A scorpion scuttles by and the lizard becomes wary. He hears the rustling again and spins again, his body creating an arc - nose to tail - protecting himself from danger on either side.
The lizard remembers the sound, but he cannot place it. He rushes to a vertical surface and begins to dart up it. Whatever the noise is, it will not follow him here. He darts up the vertical surface noting the hoard of beetles and crickets here too. Later, when he feels safe he will feast the lizard thinks to himself. The rustling sounds quieter from here. The lizard relaxes and allows the warmth to fill him. What a strange place. He hears so many noises, the rustling, cricket chirps, beetles scuttling, the soft click-click of the scorpion nearby, and a foggy, droning noise from overhead. He climbs a little higher and scans the flat plane below him surveying what to him is a very strange site. The hoards of crickets and beetles are intermixed with toads, other lizards, insects of varying types, and then he spots it. In the corner, the source of the rustling - a snake. Flight overtakes the lizard as he scuttles to a high point. His small body no match for the thickening webs created by the spiders he takes refuge in a quiet corner and waits. The danger the snake presents overwhelms him. No longer can the lizard think about the chirping of crickets or feasting on beetles. He is immobilized to all else besides the presence of the snake.
For what seems like an eternity the lizard sits silently - not eating, not basking, not resting - alert, growing weaker and ever on edge. The light on the small world falls dim and the lizard again grows cold. The sluggishness returns and the lizard is returned to his box. He eats and rest comes, relief rushes through his tired limbs.
With a sudden flash the world is bright. The world is so bright. Warmth comes flooding in - the lizard tumbles out of the box.