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At first glance, Sterling Ruby’s ACTS/WS ROLLIN is gritty, imposing, solid yet precarious. The surface of the base is reminiscent of city streets, complete with graffiti. The off-balanced resin block shot through with red is, from afar, a bit unnerving.

After approaching the piece for the first time, however, my perspective shifted as I inspected the details more closely. The ink droplets now appeared less threatening as they formed beautiful, delicate curls seemingly frozen in time. At a closer distance each vein is more distinguishable in its own trail, and every detail is striking and unique. The suspended liquid arrests your attention and refuses to let go.

Reflecting on the current situation and my own state of mind, I can’t help but recall my first reaction to Ruby’s piece. As I write this, working from home, I am reminded of my initial anxiety when confronted with this imposing sculpture. Life is often unnerving, uncertain, and precarious—somewhat like this lopsided stack of blocks. However, within the overwhelming chaos, moments of beauty can be found.

In the past few weeks, I have had some time to appreciate not only what obstacles life throws at you, but also the treasures it holds. I have recently had more time with my husband, making me appreciate his compassion, patience, and humor. I have witnessed countless acts of neighborly support in my community and city. I have also made more of an effort in self-care, and have taken time to focus on my own mental, emotional, and physical health. I am starting to notice that, like in Ruby’s sculpture, beauty can be found in life’s details, and after noticing that beauty, it will be hard to forget.
 

Brittany Eckstrom has been with the ICA since 2017 and holds the position of Assistant Manager of Visitor Services. In her spare time she enjoys practicing yoga and lives on a boat in Boston Harbor with her husband and their cat.

Friday Art Notes are personal reflections on works of art shown or in the permanent collection of the ICA, written by ICA staff, volunteers, and supporters. Read more 

 

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When you enter William Forsythe: Choreographic Objects, you are immediately part of the art on view. With the help of a GoPro camera, computer algorithms, and TV monitors spanning the gallery wall, City of Abstracts depicts bodies in the gallery, with the illusion of physical and time alteration. Every movement captured is fluid, elongated, and elegant in its motions, unlike reality, where one may feel awkward and bumbling. Time itself appears stretched, akin to a sci-fi film. 

I hung out with City of Abstracts a bit during the run of the exhibition. At one point, a giggling child wearing a bright-colored outfit wove around myself and a Visitor Assistant in the gallery. The streak of their vivid clothing contrasted beautifully with our mostly black outfits. Swatches of stretched rainbow from my Polaroid logo T-shirt danced with my body. 

I don’t know if I’ve ever laughed so long and boisterously from an experience in a museum setting. While museums can help facilitate tough conversations surrounding the state of contemporary society, it’s refreshing to deal with the stresses of our current world by laughing at yourself and your body’s capabilities.  

Sarah Hachey has been a part of the ICA staff since 2015; in her current role as the Interpretive Media and Adult Education Coordinator, she manages all content and interactive activities in the Poss Family Mediatheque, co-produces digital educational resources such as artist interview videos, and oversees the behind-the-scenes for adult programs. Outside of the ICA, she is a multimedia artist, filmmaker, and also enjoys roller skating. 

Friday Art Notes are personal reflections on works of art shown or in the permanent collection of the ICA, written by ICA staff, volunteers, and supporters. Read more 

 

I was mesmerized walking through Carolina Caycedo’s Cosomotarrayas. Hovering around me were these kaleidoscope-like creations, but the more I wandered throughout the room, the more I understood the spiritual scope of what surrounded me. Nuestro Tiempo hangs mysteriously along the wall, a deeply painted purple, white flowers and tambourine in hand, beckoning me to take a closer look. Like an ancient relic, Nuestro Tiempo is eerily quiet, yet at any moment I felt that I might hear the fingers bang upon the tambourine. I imagined that this would transport me to a different time. A time that was simpler, more natural. This was a time when my grandparents would bring out these vibrantly woven hammocks from Guatemala and hang them on the beach or between the trees on our family camping trips. My cousins and I would squish our bodies together to fit in, our bare feet kicking the sand below to make the hammock swing higher. The times sitting on Lake Atitlan watching the lone boats sail across the water, and the women weaving their traditional Mayan textiles along their village shores. That is the impact of Caycedo’s Nuestro Tiempo; like a conduit between the past and present, this net reminded me of things that I greatly miss. 

Katherine Gudiel started at the ICA as Customer Relations Manager Assistant in fall 2019, joining the data systems team in supporting all things Tessitura. She is also a painter in her free time with a focus on portraiture.

Friday Art Notes are personal reflections on works of art shown or in the permanent collection of the ICA, written by ICA staff, volunteers, and supporters. Read more