Tag: Art 2015

Living In A Bowl is the title of Cica Ghost’s latest installation, which opened on May 10th. It presents the visitor with a tropical island where almost everything is on a gigantic scale: flowers stand taller than an avatar, their delicate heads large enough to offer shade from the sun; coconuts the size of a man hang from palms and gigantic wooden-framed tanks and enormous fish bowls tower over the landscape, holding huge fish and seahorses within their watery confines.

At first, this might seem some giant’s idea of cruelty to fish; the tanks are all placed within view of the oceans from whence these curious fish may have come, almost as though to taunt them. Indeed, the huge glass bowl with its seahorses appears to have been intentionally placed on a rise in one corner of the island, as if daring its captives to perhaps try and unseat it and so gain their freedom in the open waters below.

But are these fish even aware of their circumstance? They drift in their tanks and bowls, in ones and twos, seemingly completely unperturbed by their situation, their movements languid and almost hypnotic as they float over and between the ornaments placed in their tanks – some of which would pass for a modest house for you and I.

Are they the observed, or the observers? There is a serenity about them which suggests that perhaps they know more than we might imagine – or equally, that they are content in their ignorance. And what of their fossilised brethren scattered across the sandy landscape?  What do they say to us – or to the fish drifting in their tanks?

If all this sounds disturbing – it’s not. Quite the reverse in fact; the sound of the waves lapping on the shore, the gentle song of birds in their air together with the odd plaintive call of a gull, all combine with the gentle undulations of the glass-encased fish and soft swaying of the palms in the wind, to created a soothing feeling. The entire effect is, frankly, tranquil and further enhanced by the audio stream, a beautiful selection of music that had me exploring the island to a gentle, lyrical piano and then to soft a cappela Georgian chanting. Little wonder that those on the region with me all appeared to be rooted in contemplation and lost in the music and the motion of the fish.

Such is the peace offered in this strange, other-worldly environment, that I found myself drawn to the watchtower sitting on a little hill in the north-east corner of the island, and there sit down and watch the fish, the music washing over me.

Living In A Bowl will be open for the next few weeks, and is well worth a visit.

Related Links

• Living in a Bowl (Rated: Moderate)

Balloons is Cica Ghost’s latest installation at Wondering Dew, where it replaces her wonderfully atmospheric Ruins, which I wrote about here. Having officially opened on Sunday, April 12th, Balloons is a similarly atmospheric piece, although in a somewhat different manner.

From the landing point, you look out over a low-lying landscape which undulates gently. Flowers and grass grow tall here, and a lone tree stands on the coast. In the distance stands a city, but a city that’s most unusual in form; rather than rising up into the sky, the tall buildings are bent and oddly deformed, stooping back towards the ground on which they stand. Fog or smoke enshrouds them, and giant cobwebs lay stretched between them, giving the city a neglected feel.

It is something that is seemingly lost on the denizens of this strange place. While most of them stand in the fields surrounding their city, few appear to be paying it any attention; their focus is instead on the balloons bobbing gently in the breeze, strings hanging tantalising down, most of them just out of reach.

Most, but not all; some have clearly dropped down to within reach of outstretched hands, to be grasped firmly and, whether it be with shocked surprise or sudden pleasure, have then lifted the ones grasping them up into the air, carrying them on the eddying currents of air so they float over the crowd and drift between the city’s curled towers.

Flying in this way is obviously a delight, something several of those left on the ground clearly wish to experience. To this end, some have been enterprising in their attempts, calling upon step ladders to help increase their ability to grasp passing strings as ballloons float overhead as other watch and point. Such is the wonder of these balloons, that even the bed-ridden reach longingly for a passing string and the hope of … what? Freedom? Flight? Escape?

And what of us, those who stand and watch, alongside the island’s cats as they look on mournfully, as neglected as the city itself? What are we to make of this scene? Is this perhaps a commentary on the dangers of obsession? The wilting fingers of the city’s tired towers with the shimmering cobwebs spread between them, perhaps a warning against becoming too focused on a single thing, be it an activity, object or something else?

Or are the balloons themselves a comment on our quest for freedom, to be able to soar above the problems of everyday life as presented by the shadowy city, its cobwebs symbolic of the many things which can obscure our view or even bind us in the mundane? The artist doesn’t seek to enlighten us; instead she leaves us to interpret things as we choose.

What she does provide, however, is a balloon which visitors can obtain for free at the landing point, allowing them to experience what it is like to float above the ground and beneath the sky like the citizens of this strange land. I won’t promise it’ll help you decide what is going on in this deceptively beautiful land; but I can say that floating around on the end of a piece of strong can be a lot of fun, and it’s easy to see why the locals enjoy it!

Bolloons should remain open through until the end of April, so why not hop over and see what’s going on for yourself?

Related Links

• Balloons SLurl (Rated: Moderate)

Ruins is Cica Ghost’s newest build. It presents a wonderfully evocative scene, with the broken shells of buildings rising like the battlements of an ancient castle from a mottled scrub land. It’s an enthralling, enigmatic build which, for me, bought to mind an old Anglo Saxon poem, The Ruined City, which I offer here in modern verse, accompanied by images of Cica’s work.

The Ruined City

Wondrously wrought and fair its wall of stone,
Shattered by Fate! The castles rent asunder,
The work of giants moldered away!
Its roofs are breaking and falling; its towers crumble
In ruin.

Plundered those walls with grated doors —
Their mortar white with frost. Its battered ramparts
are shorn away and ruined, all undermined
By eating age.

The mighty men that built it,
Departed hence, undone by death, are held
Fast in the earth’s embrace. Tight is the clutch
Of the grave, while overhead of living men
A hundred generations pass away.

Long this red wall, now mossy gray, withstood,
While kingdom followed kingdom in the land,
Unshaken beneath the storms of heaven — yet now
Its towering gate hath fallen. . . .

Radiant the mead-halls in that city bright,
Yea, many were its baths. High rose its wealth
Of hornèd pinnacles, while loud within
Was heard the joyous revelry of men —
Till mighty Fate came with her sudden change!

Wide-wasting was the battle where they fell.
Plague-laden days upon the city came;
Death snatched away that mighty host of men….

There in the olden time full many a thane,
Shining with gold, all gloriously adorned,
Haughty in heart, rejoiced when hot with wine;
Upon him gleamed his armour, and he gazed
On gold and silver and all precious gems;
On riches and on wealth and treasured jewels,
A radiant city in a kingdom wide.

There stood the courts of stone. Hot within,
The stream flowed with its mighty surge. The wall
Surrounded all with its bright bosom; there
The baths stood, hot within its heart. . . .

Related Links

• Ruins SLurl (Rated: Moderate)