Skeleton of the wind

Indrikis Gelzis together with Viktor Timofeev
Suprainfinit Gallery
Bucharest, Romania

May 4 - May 17, 2018

Review:
Art Viewer


With “Skeleton of the wind,” Indrikis Gelzis and Viktor Timofeev present an exhibition in which the visual grammar
of minimal sculpture collides with the Surrealist inclination toward anthropomorphizing objects. It’s subtle, here:
Gelzis’s works, rendered in black metal and blue fabric, stretch, bend, and flex as though they might weasel their
way out of two-dimensionality. They’re impish rather than creepy, interested less in uncovering subconscious desires
than in playfully destabilizing the staid functionality through which we graph and understand data—and, by extension, reality.

These are hard lines. They break up space and delineate geometric forms whose meanings we can only assume.
We use minimalism now to think about systems—it’s no longer just a matter of reduction, of paring back to the core characteristics
of a medium or material, so much as generating a program or map, a set of data points from which some form of
technical information might be predicted or inferred. Gelzis makes these works digitally, 3D-modeling the sculptures
before rendering them in steel tubes and fabric sleeves. This process—and the fact that the finished works look a bit like
hyperactive stock market graphs—might allude to neoliberal capitalism’s impulse to accumulate
information-as-wealth (think, for example, of the novel and exciting means Facebook innovates to profit off its users’ data).
Through it, the artist both materially consolidates and abstracts information into paintings and/or sculptures that appear
to map some sort of data but flippantly refuse legibility.

Like Gelzis’s works, Timofeev’s drawings employ a reduced palette: these are shadowy sci-fi visions in red, blue, and black pencil.
In one, veiny blue forearms with upturned hands reach up in a circle, skyscrapers from some alternate universe, with armless,
genderless red figures perched atop them. Another focuses on a single blue palm cradling a red figure who seems to pray to
drawings or screens affixed to the supersize fingertips; around it, more red figures lie and kneel in either reflection or repentance.
These humanoids (and that could refer to both the red beings and the corporeal infrastructure they inhabit) draw out the eerily
humanlike quality of Gelzis’s seemingly rigid, architectural sculptures. It’s unclear who’s really living here, and who or
what is in control. After all, the wind has no skeleton—no bones or body, no underlying infrastructure—but there’s structure and
direction to it nonetheless.

A text by Dana Kopel who is a curator, writer and editor at the New Museum in New York. 





Neo Rayonism
155cm x 90cm x 16cm
Steel, fabric, gradient print, melamine
2018









Tedium Max
130cm x 110cm x 10cm
Steel, fabric, gradient print, melamine
2018









Rural Lazybones
145cm x 95cm x 50cm
Steel, fabric, gradient print, melamine
2018











Trial De Ephemera
65cm x 45cm x 110cm
Steel, fabric, gradient print
2018





Ecole De Dormant
140cm x 95cm x 16cm
Steel, fabric, gradient print, melamine
2018











Rural Young
160cm x 95cm x 140m
Steel, fabric, gradient print, melamine
2018





Trial De Volatile
65cm x 45cm x 110cm
Steel, fabric, gradient print
2018