The new Roni Horn retrospective plays out like a poem at the Museum of Contemporary Art Denver. The objects on display tread lightly, rhythmically, metaphorically, across the two main floors of the downtown building.
The photos, prints, sculptures and video — that are all related, in some way, to water — do not say directly what they want viewers to hear or understand. Instead, they offer hints and clues, bits of text, slices of dialogue, murky imagery, that all mirror the sparse verse of poetry, and bring together Horn’s larger suggestion that water — sometimes cool and refreshing, other times cold and icy — reflects the complexities of human identity.
It’s deep, to borrow another water metaphor, but it feels less like a plunge in the ocean and more like a warm bath on a chilly night. Settle in and it overtakes you, relaxes you and, ultimately, rewards you.
Curator Nora Burnett Abrams shows noble restraint here in putting together these works, which go back decades, by this American artist who is widely respected though not quite famous outside of art capitals like New York, Los Angeles, Paris and Basel (where not-so-coincidentally her global mega-gallery Hauser & Wirth now has outposts).
Horn is an elite-level artist, though she does not act like one. There is little showmanship to the objects she makes: They tend to be small in size and understated, made of simple media and expressed in pale shades of color. Though the work is lovely to look at, its strength comes from its concepts. Horn speaks softly, but says a lot.
Curator Abrams understands this and, in turn, builds an exhibit with a slow and steady stream of ideas. Compared to many contemporary art shows we see these days, including at the MCA, which contort the work so that it is loud and attention-getting and meant to wow viewers with bells and whistles, Abrams lets the objects whisper for themselves.
That is an appropriate move for showcasing an artist who is heavily influenced by poets herself and who writes and performs her own verse. Her work acts as a bridge between formal poetry and traditional visual art.
Sometimes this happens directly, as with her series of three-dimensional sculptures, scattered across the floor of the entire exhibition, that take the form of thin sticks or rods, maybe 2 or 3 feet long and an inch square, made mainly from aluminum. Horn decorates them with quotes from well-known writers.
One reads: “sweet is the swamp with its secrets.” Another: “water, is taught by thirst.” Both borrow directly from one of Horn’s literary heroes, Emily Dickinson.
More often, the poetry, or at least the aura of it, is indirect. One good example is the series “You Are the Weather, Part 2,” which consists of 100 photos, all identical in size and displayed at eye level in the museum’s large, second-floor gallery.
The photos, taken during 2010 and 2011, all focus directly on the face of the same woman who is submerged in hot springs at various locations across Iceland. All viewers see is her face, again and again. The piece has the pattern of blank verse.
For Horn, the work is an exercise in seeing. The face is the same, but the conditions around the face — time of day, weather, background, the subject’s personal disposition — vary, and that changes the mood of every photo. The artist wants us to understand that we cannot control all that we see, even if we try very hard to do just that.
This exhibit, titled “Water, Water on the Wall, You’re the Fairest of Them All,” comes together as a cohesive experience, exploring water as a symbol of how we behave and see each other, but it does have distinct moments.
The best of those are Horn’s recent sculptures made of glass that are grouped together on the floor in two places of the exhibition. Some are shaped like beer barrels, others like oversized petrie dishes. They come in lime green, lemony yellow, frosty white.
They are a marvel of craft. Not to get too technical, but they are made using a heat treatment process called annealing, which allows them to take on the appearance of actual water. Walking up to them in the galleries, it is difficult to tell if they are solid or liquid. They are, in fact, solid, but the objects serve as an opening to question our understanding of the universe — what is stable and what is dynamic, what can be held and understood and what is in constant motion, how things appear and what is actually going on under the surface.
Such a simple and common material, water, such an easy grab as a metaphor. Yet, in Horn’s hands, it is overflowing with meaning.
A note about the MCA
In some ways, this exhibit feels like the end of an era at the Museum of Contemporary Art Denver. It is the last show organized by Abrams, who has for 15 years been the most crucial curatorial voice at the city’s most important exhibitor of living (or recently deceased) artists.
“Water Water” exemplifies what has become a trademark show for Abrams — and, indeed, the museum overall — introducing regional audiences to an out-of-town artist, through a thoughtfully-installed, well-researched sampling of their work. Abrams has an eye for art that connects to the moment, and a gift for writing text that puts everything in context for those who consume the material. She will bring those skills to her new job as the director of the Institute for Contemporary Art/Boston, which she will take on early next year.
Last week, the MCA announced a new director, Anthony Kiendl, who comes to Denver with a long resume that includes positions at the Vancouver Art Gallery, MacKenzie Art Gallery and the Banff Centre for Arts and Creativity, all located in Canada. He has 30 years of experience in the business.
In an Oct. 21 note introducing himself to the public here, Kiendl suggested that contemporary art museums “should be warm, playful, thought-provoking, and unlike anywhere else in town.”
That one word “playful” promises a bit of a shift in profile for the MCA, where the exhibits of late tended to be serious studies of social and environmental disorder, or deep dives into the interior thoughts of the artists on display. Though who knows how that will actually play out under Kiendl’s leadership.
It’s a win-win, in any case. The MCA will always benefit from the foundation built through Abrams’ very good taste, and it is positioned well for its next chapter with Kiendl.
IF YOU GO
“Water, Water on the Wall, You’re the Fairest of Them All” continues through Feb. 15 at the MCA Denver, 1485 Delgany St. Info: 303-298-7554 or mcadenver.org.