Main Gallery- Danielle Giudici Wallis
602 Moulton Ave.
Los Angeles, CA 90031
October 6th, 2007 - October 27th, 2007
October 6th, 2007 7:00 PM - 10:00 PM
Danielle Giudici Wallis,
Conversational Construct (brick),
2008, brick, wood, mortar, adhesive, flocking, paint, 38" x 17" x 18"
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Open by appointment unless otherwise indicated per exhibition.
Currently I am exploring the construct of place through the use of
architectural reference. Fragments of walls and foundations act as
boundaries that alternately divide or bind together. Shifts in scale
and the use of a controlled viewing field simultaneously amplify and
collapse the distance between private and public, interior and
exterior, and physical versus psychological space.
This particular body of work began with a series of crates which, while
referencing minimal form, allude to transience and all that it
implies. The crate typically dislocates its interior (assumed to be an
object) from its external presence, as it is not visually accessible.
In this series the crate’s interior is
accessible via a peephole inserted through the exterior surface. Yet,
the “assumed object” essentially remains in transit as it is
permanently entombed within. It also remains preserved and protected
denying the very ideas of impermanence or fragility that are implied by
the crate in the first place.
Further challenging the viewer’s expectations, these crates are almost empty.
They are more akin to architectural skins or interiors, devoid of all
but a few, seemingly abandoned objects. In effect, the interior walls
and the emptiness they create become the object. Despite their
emptiness, the crate continues to function as a signifier of
The Foundations Series consists
of 35 cement tiles cast from molds made of the remaining foundations of
partially razed structures on the now defunct Naval Air Station in
Alameda, California. The tiles are positioned to suggest a quilt
pattern. They are framed by a steel perimeter which is suspended by
aircraft cable from the ceiling creating an empty volume. The steel
perimeter is detailed with fleur de lis corner brackets, a nod to New
Orleans and the gulf coast, where many foundations remain while the
structures they supported have been ripped away. Below, echoing the
larger rectangular form, lay a “carpet” made from sand and canvass,
referencing the unstable land we have chosen to build upon. A small
steel ladder attached to the frame provides a vertical link between the
two horizontal planes.
The area that this piece
represents was once a privileged space, requiring a military
identification card be presented to an armed guard for entry. The
station, which was originally operated by the army in 1930, was
acquired by the navy in 1936 during the buildup to WWII. The Navy
maintained operations there until the Naval Air Station’s closure in
1997. At that point the waterfront property, with its sweeping views
of San Francisco Bay, was turned back over to the city of Alameda. The
city has struggled to find a developer willing to deal with the
complicated and costly clean up of the toxic mess left behind by the
Navy despite the inherent value of waterfront property in California.
While there are a myriad of issues to be explored here, the
one that I am most interested in is the transition from a privileged
place (guarded, fenced, and walled) into an open, public space. This is
an idea I also found to be echoed in the devastation on the gulf
coast. With walls sheared away, only foundations remain to make claim
on the land. These relics of our presence fight to survive with the
decay that surrounds them; both natural and manmade, tangible and