Emma Hunter: Corporeal Disclosure
Interpretation text, graphic design and arrangement for booklet accompanying Hunter's solo exhibition at Hundred Years Gallery, May 2016:
My encounter of Hunter’s work was led by interpreting its movements; implied interactions between human and machine, visual pathways mapping out agonising mental states, and surfaces which appear to trace the very flesh and bones of the human body. The ‘found’ mechanical components already bring directional motion to the understanding of the work. Many of them are too archaic or abstract to recognise - the oil dispenser in “Crimson Head”, the rake in “Impediment”, and the harvesting mower in “Recurrence”, all stripped of their original context and use - but their joints and gestures retain clues to movement. By keeping the original elements exposed but reconfiguring, reorienting and adding to them, Hunter succeeds in creating a series of new characters which express a duality between the expected motion of the original parts and the implied motion of the sculpture as a whole.
This is most apparent in “Vulva”, where the callipers are poised to pince together, but instead take on an accordion-like form, spaced and connected by soft tissue which clings to the structure’s bones. The somewhat literal combination of human and machine in “Vulva” creates a sense of unease in experiencing the work which is typical of many of the pieces shown. It conjures an unsettling juxtaposition of hard and soft, strong and delicate, recognisable yet misplaced, sexual but threatening, creating a sort of alluring danger. Even the transformation of Hunter’s objects reflects this duality, requiring both intensive labour and delicate intervention; welding, grinding, pouring and cutting, versus the gentle rolling and patting of clay and the stitching of fabric.
Motion within the coiled and knotted works seems almost suspended in comparison. Materials hang in intestinal entanglement, or map out a perpetual cyclic journey flowing unavoidably further and further from the origin, clutching precariously to the centre. These pieces, such as “Conundrum”, command movement in our eyes as we observe the forms as pathways, traveling through varying materials, states and colours, over and over again.
Coils are common features of philosophy and nature and are often found representing life’s journey. Looking at “Digression” in this context, we could imagine ourselves, or perhaps the earth, passing the same points over and over from a slightly different perspective each time.
The vintage fireman’s hose, which Hunter found and cast to make “Digression”, would also have been a compelling encounter during her exploration of the coiled serpent in philosophy and the occult. The hose’s form and texture is remarkably reminiscent of this iconic image, often representative of a feminine cosmic energy, though its likely that few would recognise this ordinarily. For those of us who gather objects, we are perhaps drawn to them because we see something within them which reflects an element of ourselves, our thoughts, our aspirations or our fears. Through her treatment of the objects she collects, Hunter is disclosing her connection to them, exposing the reflections she sees.
