Introduction
Light has been the subject of investigation of vast amounts of cultural, religious, scientific and artistic thought, ever since Prehistoric times till the present day. As a concept, it has often been heavily appended with symbolism. The Ancient Egyptians, for instance, saw the light from the Sun as being the sight of the god Horus’ open eye: “To be in the light of the Sun was to be in the creative sight of the Sun-god Horus” (Zajonc, 1993). Light’s immateriality and its mystical nature unsurprisingly linked it to religious deities: Apollo, Mani, Zhulong. The mythological nature of light has been embedded in literature and in the arts throughout history, often used as a tool to communicate the idea of knowledge, the good, or the divine. In John Milton’s epic poem Paradise Lost (1667), the author describes the light as the light of god and of divine wisdom (Milton and Leonard, 2003):
“Hail holy Light, offspring of Heaven first born!
Or of th’ ethernal coeternal beam
May I Express thee unblamed?
Since God is light,
And never but in unapproached light
Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee,
Bright effluence of bright essence increate!”
John Milton, Paradise lost (Milton and Leonard, 2003)
Light was being explored in the arts and literature with such passion, although it was equivalently being investigated by mathematicians, physicists and philosophers. Counter-productively, with every progressive attempt of man to scientifically dissect and understand light, the subject shed a layer of mysticism and spirituality. Hence, as history progressed, the creative exploration of light and its mysteries slowly began to subside. An example of this change can be found in the situation that directly followed the publication of the book Optiks, in which Isaac Newton transformed the image of light from something symbolic to systematic. The autonomy of light was diminished, and man’s perspective of himself in the universe was reshaped. Newton’s discovery, originally praised by the science and the arts alike, later became chastised, and his works were said to be… “dismembering the world into parts, so that true wholes were nevermore seen” (Zajonc, 1993).
As sure as there is night after day, and day after night, just as science developed an understanding and harnessing of light, art reacted, pushing the envelope as to how one could communicate, interpret and perhaps cherish the past ephemeral moments of light. In his book Aesthetic Theory, Theodor Adorno states that “art keeps itself alive through its social force of resistance; unless it reifies? itself, it becomes a commodity” (Adorno, Adorno and Tiedemann, 2013 Pg 308). Art questions the rational paradigms of society, and while it is not altering the scientific or mathematical exactitudes of light, it allows new ways of seeing it to flourish.
Although the arts have often visually communicated the idea of light, previous to 1990 there had only been a handful of artists that had used it as a purely independent medium. As technology has progressed, the rise in accessibility and versatility provided by LEDs1 has caused a surge in its application within the realms of art, architecture and design. While it might be promising that this technological progress has spurred creativity, it is also often accompanied by the unfounded assumption that we understand the effect it has on us (Zajonc, 1993). This writing will look at the ways that light, as an independent medium in art, has provided a rejuvenation of imaginative and thought-provoking experiences of light. Moreover, I will be analysing whether the historical context surrounding the work and/or the presentation of the work, has an affect on the experience of a spectator.
To explore this, the research carried out in the first section breaks light down into the ways in which we perceive it objectively. Following on from that is the research of the historic perception of light from the time period of the 16th to 20th century. Finally, the ideas of semiotics are explained to clarify further analysis in the works of light as an independent medium. The second section is a case study of Thomas Wilfred works from 1920 to 1960, exploring the creative and theatrical ways in which his work presented. Finally, the works of James Turrell in the late 1960’s will be explored to understand the thought provoking experiences that he is able to communicate.
Literature Review
Seeing the Light
When we see any source of light we identify it just as that, a source of light. There may be further descriptors attached such as soft, harsh, warm, cold, but these are only ways of describing their subjective appearance. Gernot Bohmë removes these subjective appearances of light and defines that all light can be categorised into three essential types, light source, light object, and lights in space. Light source is the point at which the light is emitted, whether it is the sun or an LED, the light source illuminates the space in which we are in and we are consciously aware of it. The light object, is where there the source of light that is in our space is not actually emitting light, more it allows the light to pass through into the space that we are in. An example would be a window in a room, on an overcast day, we can not see the sun(light source), but it allows an illumination into our space. The final definition is of lights in space, where the light we see has no direct impact on our immediate space, but it forms structure of a wider space. To look at the stars at night, or the illuminated windows of an office block (Bohmë, 2018).
To understand methods of how light creates experiences, it is important first to understand primary concepts of light’s role within space and vision and how they are defined. Gernot Bohmë provides a vital dissection of light, by stating that light in its most simplest terms is brightness. A prerequisite for seeing an object, colour or form is that there is a sufficient brightness to enable this, too little or too much and the information of the object becomes indistinguishable. However, Bohmë states that there must be one other component for the visibility of objects, darkness. “Darkness is the interaction with light” (Bohmë, 2018) it gives form and structure to an object by defining boundaries. Gyorgy Kepes’ construct of light groups our perception of the visual world through light into one encompassing interaction which is light modulation (Kepes, 1967). Kepes’ states that the ways in which we receive light fundamentally falls into three categories, “The rectilinear propagation of light, the reflection of light, the refraction of light” his emphasis was that these properties of light should be considered with design of any medium (Kepes, 1967). The distinctions between Kepes’ and Moholy-Nagy’s light modulation are of similarities, the interest with Moholy-Nagy’s lay within the focus of that any object was a light modulator. Demonstrated by his article “Make a Light Modulator” in 1940, to which he cuts, folds and transforms a sheet of white paper to modulate light creating forms (Kostelanetz and Moholy-Nagy, 1991). This forms his basis for the theory of that light is a tool to form “optical impressions of space relationships”.
Considering these theories of the interaction of light with objects and space, Bohmë expands upon brightness and darkness together as elements of light playing a role in defining a visual space. The fundamental attributes of brightness and darkness forming a visual space is defined as cleared space (Bohmë, 2018). Cleared space acts as the basis that a space of light, allows one to visually move and judge space in increments relative to one’s position. This visual movement or as Bohmë defines it free movement, is the act of being able to navigate depths of space either physically or visually. A complete lack of light, results in the visual experience of space being closed in and indeterminate in perception, a result of minimal knowledge of spatial boundaries. Bohmë describes that free movement in cleared space produces a primary emotional experience of safety, giving the darkness that limits a space “a realm of uncertain threats” (Bohmë, 2018).
History of Seeing the light
This fear of darkness, is ultimately the fear of the unknown, this fear was partially subdued by light (Zajonc, 1993). This led to light becoming synonymous with safety. Throughout the long history of light there has been vast amounts of symbolic meaning imbued upon it, in both the arts and literary works. However, whilst these romantic ideals may have provided creative thought, light in the Middle-Ages$ had a greater significance, that being the combatant of the dark (Schivelbusch and Davies, 1998). The dark of night has been a catalyst for fear from prehistoric man and even in today’s world, that being so light’s role – or absence of it – played an important role of policing the middle ages (Schivelbusch and Davies, 1998). In western civilisations there would not have been street lighting until early 17th century. When darkness fell on the cities, bells from the cathedrals would ring as a signalling of the city’s gates were closing and people should retreat and barricade themselves in their home, the “Curfew”$ had begun (Brox, 2012). The absence of light was the absence of life, the streets would be silent with only thieves lurking under the guise of night. Those caught outside after the final church bell would be apprehended, unless they were to be carrying a lit lantern (Brox, 2012). This was not so much to guide the lantern carrier around the darkness of the city, as it was more a tool to be seen by others – light was carried by authority – and in turn light became a sign of order and control. Wolfgang Schivelbusch reaffirms this by stating that in the 17th century “police conquered and controlled the night by installing street lighting”, declaring that street lighting is a “lighting of order” (Schivelbusch and Davies, 1998).
As the 17th century brightened through its addition of oil and candle lighting in the street, the need for brighter more reliable forms of artificial lighting (Kries et al., 2013). The industrialisation period from the late 18th to mid 19th century utilised gas lighting to create working rhythms, “independent of natural [lighting]” (Kries et al., 2013). As artificial lighting further progressed from gas lighting to electric lighting in the late 19th century (Schivelbusch and Davies, 1998) it marked a significant milestone in history, “the elimination of the natural dividing line between day and night was read as a symbol of modernity”. Beate Binder describes, “one could wander, in the rays of lamps” electric lighting was referred to as “Elysium”, the divinity of light was emerging within electric lighting.
(Kries et al., 2013). The electrification of streets and theatres became synonymous with social progress (Nye, 1998). Whilst electric lighting had created a stronger divide between day and night, it also created
Semiotics and Light
Since the times of Ancient Egypt, light has been infused with symbolic meaning. Be it the sun or the light bulb, we are accustomed to the language and meaning of light. In the present day, there are many signs and symbols of light which we can easily identify. Lights, including your keyboard or mobile phone, are able to communicate to us light, brightness, or even the sun, without the use of words.
To take a deeper look into this language of signs, it might be helpful to take a look at Ferdinand de Saussure’s work on semiotics. Saussure broke down the idea of the sign into two parts, the signifier and the signified (Sebeok, 2001). The signifier is the physical form of the object, for example a light bulb. The signified is our concept of that signifier or, in other words, the image and meaning we gather through the perception of the signifier. For the light bulb (signifier), the signified would be light, or brightness. To investigate further the specifics of how we see light it may be of use to reference Charles Sanders Peirce’s Theory of Signs, as this provides an alternative deconstruction of this dichotomy. Peirce breaks down the sign into three categories: icons, indexes and symbols. An icon is a physical representation of an object, which sits somewhere between the signifier and the signified (Sebeok, 2001). A simplified illustration of a light bulb refers to a light bulb. Indexes, on the other hand, are the relationship that exists between the sign (light) and a causal link (light source). A causal link could be looked at as smoke coming from a fire, the smoke is an index of fire, as it requires the cause of the fire to create the smoke, the same way that a shadow is an index of light. Symbols are of no causal relation or similarity between the signifier and the signified, but of only a culturally learned or common idea of the signifier.
An example of light as a symbol can be seen in The Allegory of Cave in Plato’s work The Republic. A summary of this allegory is that people are in a cave, in this cave there is an exit with sun light seeping in. The only other light source that is in the cave is emanated from a fire. Objects are held in front of this fire, creating shadows of the objects upon the cave wall. There are prisoners in the cave, they are chained so that they are facing away from the exit. The only light that they can see is that from the fire, hence the only images they see are phantoms (shadows) of the objects (true forms). If a prisoner was freed from their chains, allowed to exit the cave into the sun light outside, the forms that the prisoner can see in the real sunlight are true forms. In this example, light from the sun is a symbol of pure knowledge (Plato., 2007).
Case Study: Thomas Wilfred
It is essential to consider and appraise the works of the artists who have used light as the central medium of their work. A very early pioneer of explorations in the sole medium of light was Thomas Wilfred. Since 1922, Wilfred’s work has been centered around the communicating of direct, silent, aesthetic experiences with light. Using a series of motors and prisms to modulate light, Wilfred created a kinetic light art that he performed as a composition, as well as creating isolated autonomous units that performed themselves. The works were displayed in spaces that ranged from pitch black concert halls and galleries, to small cabinet units intended for the domestic setting. The intimate and abstract experience of light was at the time, incomparable to other artists: “A new art form has begun its life in our generation” (Miller, 1952). This new art form that Wilfred self-defined was Lumia, an individual realm of artistic practice and philosophy, and declared it to be (in the context of the 1920’s) Lumia the “8th category of art”. Wilfred separated himself from other groups and categories of art, refusing any possible combination of Lumia to another medium. Keely Orgeman, a curator who in 2014 revived the works of Wilfred at the Yale art gallery, suggests that this isolation from the other arts made Lumia “transcend any one group of artists or their set of interests”(Wilfred et al., 2017).
The Historical context of light that surrounded Wilfred’s 1922 debut performance in the New York Neighbourhood Playhouse, was of both technological and cultural significance. It had been just over a decade since the introduction of electric lighting in New York, an ongoing development that would not be completed until the 1930s (Nye, 1990). The introduction of electric lighting was symbolic of social progression: “the elimination of the dividing line between day and night… was symbolic of modernity” (Kries et al., 2013). Amongst this technological development, light itself was gaining further clarity in the scientific realms. In 1887, Michelson-Morley’s experiment raised the question of light having a constant speed, which in 1905 provided the basis for Albert Einstein’s Special Relativity and consequently in 1915 his theory of General Relativity. Special relativity’s technicalities were complex, but the theme that fueled creativity was the concept of “Space-time”. Such theories provided further imagination to the art world, inspiring artist’s such as Lazlo Moholy-Nagy and Cubist painters such as Pablo Picasso & Georges Braque to name a few. (Dalrymple Henderson, 2008). General Relativity was of interest to Wilfred. By 1919 Arthur Eddington proved that light could bend due to a gravitational force. These technically inconceivable, yet tantalizing scientific ideas provided a visual concept for Wilfred to base his works of Lumia on. Keely Orgeman describes that “the success of Wilfred’s work in the United States appears to have depended largely on his ability to articulate a relevant framework for light itself… questioning of the essential truths of the broader universe” (Wilfred et al., 2017).
Wilfred’s works are stated to communicate a poetic interpretation of said scientific phenomena, with comments (on his 1922 debut) such as “[an] interstellar phenomena a play of light, artistically manipulated” (Wilfred et al., 2017). However, it is questionable whether the causes of this are a result of the historical context of light, or the influence he had on the performance of his work. Wilfred would give a speech about his philosophies preceding the early performance works of these Lumia compositions: “I hope to have transformed this hall [Grand Central Palace] into the cabin of a fantastic dream ship capable of travelling through space with the speed of thought” (Wilfred et al., 2017). It is impossible to ascertain whether the spectator would have come to a natural conclusion of this perception with the absence of Wilfred’s statement prior to the work. However compared to more recent interpretations of his work from the 2014 Lumia exhibition at Yale University reviews have echoed the similar imagery, although in far more broad terms: “the coloured patterns on the frosted glass evoke underwater worlds, or the northern lights, or some cosmological display.” (Pollack, 2017).
This raises an important criticism on Wilfred’s earlier performance works. As the medium of light is abstract in the way Wilfred displays it. It could be argued that Wilfred’s pre-conditioning of the spectator, through his speech and artwork titles, as to what they would see, can still provide multiple perceptions of the work. Berger acknowledges this in the description of captions that surround paintings “the image now illustrates the sentence” (Berger, 2008). Wilfred describes the idea of light in his work as “purely non-objective luminous forms moving slowly through a curved spaced orbit” (Wilfred et al., 2017), the performance of his speech “travelling through space” sets the context of the work to be perceived in space. Conversely, in other works such as Abstract, Op. 91 (The Firebird) (Fig.2) although the signifier has been set as the “Firebird”, in addition to its visual imagery it seems plausible that the signified would consequently be a “Firebird”. However, there are as Umberto Eco describes “open” texts, signs that have multiple interpretations, but are not infinite (Cobley and Jansz, 2010). Wilfred’s Abstract, Op. 91 (The Firebird) in fact refers to Igor Stravinsky’s ballet “The Firebird” (Wilfred et al., 2017). Although this layering of semiotics may provide multiple perceptions of the same work to a handful of spectators, Wilfred’s later works with the absence of his performance tended to provide more unique and personal interpretations.
The later works of Wilfred that were devoid of his speeches were mechanically automated Lumia devices that would run through cycles lasting years before repetition. An example of this is the Lumia Suite, Op. 158, 1963. (Fig3,4) The epic duration of this piece is estimated at “9yrs., 127days, 18hrs.” Until a repetition occurs (Wilfred et al., 2017). The perceivably eternal duration creates a flux of luminous forms that the spectator could reflect and ponder upon (Hunter, 2017). As often with works of Lumia, they are referred to as having “indeterminate depths”, due to the pitch-black environment that engulfs the spectator within the work, the field of vision becomes the pulsating rhythmic forms of light. The environment of Op. 158 exemplifies Bohmë’s theory of lights in space: with the darkness closing the space around the spectator, they rely on the light of Op. 158 to provide a structure to the space. The light from Op.158 is a direct interaction with the surface of the wall, unlike other mediums such as screens that are backlit or the projection from film. The darkness between the luminous forms becomes equivalent to that of the environment. Often Wilfred would describe this experience as “vertical windows”. The concept that derives from this is broken down by his theory, “fields of vision”. (Insert Image) Wilfred describes this aim to be that the works would appear – to the spectator – as if they are looking out through a window into the depths of space. Using light to aid the viewer in transcending the perception of the screen (First Field) becoming immersed within the illusion of a three-dimensional space (Second Field).
Despite the immersion, originality, poetic motion and unearthly qualities of Lumia, unfortunately it was never recognised as a category of art in its own right. Ever since the public reveal of Lumia, there has been an attachment of it to colour music (Eskilson, 2003). Colour music was focused more between the relation of colour to sound, the 18th century Louis Bertrand Castel connected the musical tones of a chromatic scale to colours. Castel’s instrument for this colour sound was named the “Calvecin oculaire” meaning “Ocular Harpsicord” which subsequently inspired many works by artists such as Alexander Wallace Rimington, Adrian Klein, Alexander Laszlo and others. (Haverkamp and Dudley, 2011). Wilfred’s work, on the other hand was a purely aesthetic experience, he himself inarguably denying the idea that there was a psychological and physical connection between Castel’s theory of sound and colour synaesthesia. Despite Wilfred’s assertion that Lumia works should be a pure medium of light, the influence his works had was in the more experiential and entertainment side of culture, which remained in contrast to his theory.
Towards the end of Wilfred’s career, the historical context that surround his original works in the 1920’s – one of scientific exploration and technological infancy, had changed into something far different. The 1960’s had seen an extensive amalgamation of technology and art, with movements such as Billy Kluver and Robert Rauschenberg’s Experiments in Arts and Technology and Gyorgy Kepes’ work with CAVS at MIT. The greater accessibility to technology facilitated explorations in immersive kinetic installations, leading to artists being able to recreate, with their own influences, works of light, most commonly in the form of light shows. Although the light show has had various origins, from the magic lantern to colour organs. Wilfred’s works were of an inspiration for the culmination of light and music. In 1967 Joshua White, after seeing works of Lumia at the MoMA, went on to create the “Joshua Light Show” (JLS), a lighting company that accompanied the works of the rock counter-culture in the late 60’s (Yale University Art Gallery, 2017). Artists such as Jackie Cassen who were inspired by the medium of light as presented in Wilfred’s works, adopted it to her own psychedelic environments created with Rudi Stern (Kamarck, 1969). The common theme in the revival of Wilfred’s works was always light’s accompaniment to music. After his passing, those who are and/or were directly influenced by the qualities of Lumia never continued to develop the original intention of light truly as a medium in itself, rather more it is always appended to another medium. Orgeman states “Wilfred’s art could be poetically described but not so readily understood as a singular self-referential phenomenon” (Wilfred et al., 2017).
Wilfred’s work has undoubtedly caused light to be acknowledged as a serious tool for sensory experience and visual reverie. The immersive environment in which they were presented, visually transported the spectator into the depths of the work. The simplest of hints allowed the spectator to creatively investigate the forms of the light they see before them, projecting their own interpretation upon them. Wilfred’s works of Lumia highlight the ways the context of light can be used to represent more abstract and unearthly concepts. Showcasing the possibilities that light has for creative exploration, for both the artist and the experience of the spectator.
Case Study: James Turrell
One of the most prominent and influential artists that have utilised the medium of light is James Turrell. Turrell’s work focuses on a philosophical and perceptual side of showing light: “light is not so much something that reveals, as it is itself the revelation” (Turrell, 1985 as cited in Zajonc, 1993). His works are in majority site specific, ranging from fully immersive light works such as Pneuma, 2004 (Fig. 5) that removes all sense of depth within the spectator, to Skyspaces such as Seldom Seen, (Turrell, 2004) that frame the sky, emphasising the focus on light in both the artificial and natural sense.
Turrell’s art, although employing the same medium as Thomas Wilfred, the two artists have little in common when it comes to how the medium of light of used. The only common ground was their mutual desire for the spectator to explore the phenomena of light. That aside, Turrell described “[that] the works of Thomas Wilfred and that kind of swirling use of light never interested [him]” (Adcock and Turrell, 1990). Parting from the more narrative and theatrical aspects of light, Turrell is more interested in giving the spectator a more phenomenological and intimate experience of the perception of light. Usually Turrell is branded under the “Light Space Movement” a term that is generally accepted and referred to for the works of artists such as, Robert Irwin, Douglas Wheeler and others as well as himself. Butterfield makes a clear statement: “it is crucial to recognise that they [Associated Light Space artists] constitute neither a group nor a movement. There is no manifesto.” (Butterfield, 1993). A key experience that Turrell wanted to offer was the purely fundamental perceptive and sensory experience of light, that in turn the spectator could inscribe with their own experience, rather than being dictated completely by the artist. Jan Butterfield’s allegorical statement of Turrell’s work accurately highlights this: “The Mondrain was no longer on the wall – instead the viewer was in the Mondrain” (Butterfield, 1993).
Turrell’s career started in 1966, on the backdrop of an advancing connection between the technology and the arts. Movements on the East coast4 such as E.A.T. had fostered a connection between the arts and the sciences. On the West Coast a rippling effect of the collaborations from the East started to emerge in the “futuristic” setting of Los Angeles (Goodyear, 2008). Maurice Tuchman’s Art and Technology (A&T) exhibition at the LACMA5 in May 1971 – a project started in 1967 – had the intention of culminating industry and artists, similar to that of E.A.T.6. What set out to be a grand exhibition with 76 artists collaborating with industry, only 23 actually secured partnerships (Goodyear, 2008). A mixture of incompatibility with artist and industry, was not just a personality difference, but more unfortunate timing. Tuchman’s exhibition was situated towards the end of the Vietnam war, where social conflict was rising towards technology as “counter-culture artists” saw industry as an index to establishment and war (Goodyear, 2008). Turrell however did not incorporate any of these social and cultural factors within his early work, nor were they associated with it. In comparison to Wilfred’s Lumia which even in a modern-day context receives, iconic and symbolic connotations, Turrell’s work has managed to transcend any social or historical influences (Kries et al., 2013).
Among the initial 76 artists involved with the A&T project Turrell in collaboration with Robert Irwin and Dr. Ed Wortz, were developing a series of perceptual experiments for the exhibition. Many of which at the time did not develop further than the idea. However, some works such as the Ganzfelds7 work Pneuma, 2004 (Fig.5) have been created a long time after the initial A&T project. Turrell abdicated from the initial A&T project after six months, due to conflicting and conceptual differences with Irwin (Livingston and Tuchman, 1971). Despite Turrell’s leave from the project, the report of the exhibition clearly indicates Turrell’s involvement, often providing evidence of his practices and philosophies of his work (Livingston and Tuchman, 1971). An example of this, is the idea of using the light as a tool to aid the spectator to in becoming aware of their own natural prejudices of perceiving light. “The viewers must assume the responsibility, they get into the experience, and they make the art— they are the actuality” (Livingston and Tuchman, 1971). The act of aiding the spectator, or as Turrell refers to it, “giving them a little push” (Charlie Rose LLC., 2013) is his attempt to make the spectator understand his works (and more fundamentally understand their perception of seeing light) without implicitly using any forms of signs or descriptions. This was quite unlike Thomas Wilfred, whose speeches preceding the performance would communicate the cosmos, thus affecting the paradigm of the signified that the spectator would experience in response to the works. Turrell on the other hand, inverted this process by communicating the concept through the sole presentation of his work. To understand the concept of his work all the spectator had to do is to was interact with it. This gives the freedom to the spectator to understand their perception of light, rather than it being dictated to them.
An example of the freedom Turrell gives to the spectator in order to explore the phenomena of light, is more than apparent in his early projection work Afrum 1966 (Fig.6). This projection of intense light formed a very simple geometric cube that appeared to both be a light source extending out of the wall, and an object appearing to have a physical weight and mass. However, this is a perspective illusion, since it is simply just carefully sculpted light projected upon the wall. The spectator only realises this when they themselves inspect the work up close (Butterfield, 1993).
Viewing the communication of the work in stages (before and after the interaction with the work) will help to develop the understanding of how Turrell presents Afrum to communicate to us the prejudices of our perception. In terms of signifier and signified upon initial viewing of Afrum, the signifier is the (perceived) physical cube of light, and the signified is of a light source that is a three-dimensional cube. After the spectator has interacted with the work (by physical touch or movement of position) the signifier changes from a physical cube of light, to light reflected off a wall, resulting in the signified becoming a light object, and fundamentally light itself. This change from the perceived to the real communicates to the spectator their own prejudices of perception. As Turrell describes this by stating “We’re quite unaware of how much that we perceive we are part of [the] created. We are co-creators.” (Charlie Rose LLC., 2013).
It could be questioned whether Turrell’s use of such a coherent and universal signifier, the geometric cube, which calls upon the inherently signified concept of depth, solidity and mass, is a prerequisite for his works to be effective in the deconstruction our general perception. By Turrell giving the spectator initial knowledge of a perceived yet real and tangible object, the spectator in turn is presented with an immediate sign, understanding the environment as a truth or “reality”.
Bohmë’s concept of holograms discusses the conditions for a belief in such a phenomenon. He states that for us to perceive a phenomenon such as a hologram, our perception requires the appearance of said hologram to manifest itself upon a real object. This creates the illusion of “appearances without something appearing” (Bohmë, 2018). If this concept experience is applied to the initial experience of Wilfred’s ambiguity and abstraction of light in Op.158, one can see how, with the spectator being unable to manifest a “real” appearance upon the light, they experience an indeterminate signifier that cycles through numerous signs to impart meaning upon the work. From the outset, in Wilfred’s works you are presented with lights in space – a lighting effect – that has limited tangibility within a real environment, hence the experience is of an imaginative and fictional reality. Turrell on the other hand, grounds the work in reality by the use of simple recognisable signs. These signs that we are presented with, are as Butterfield states, “[a] virtual reality perceived as reality” (Butterfield, 1993). Through movement around the projection of light, the form of the cube does not shift in the standard perspective (stereoscopic vision), so the spectator understands that their belief in the reality of space is, in fact, a fallacy.
By the spectator acknowledging their prejudices, Turrell has managed to use light to communicate an essence of the perception of light. In an interview with Charlie Rose, Turrell describes a similar projection work, Prado (Fig.7), “Just a shape on the wall makes this plastic quality where… I’m making the picture plane be the wall, like Plato’s cave” (Charlie Rose LLC., 2013). In his reference to Plato’s Cave8, the allegorical shadows on the inside of Plato’s cave represent the ignorance of reality. In Turrell’s case, this is the prejudice of the spectator’s perception of light. Therefore, the light of the sun at the end of the cave (Plato’s context of the cave) is representative of their realisation of this perception, in turn all that is truly seen is light itself. Turrell’s work immerses the spectator (allegorically speaking) in Plato’s cave, and the tools he uses to guide the spectator to the knowledge of reality, are the works themselves. This understanding or “knowledge of reality” that Turrell is able to communicate, highlights a key aspect of the way light can be presented. Rather than communicating just symbolic and narrative imagery, like the works of Thomas Wilfred, light can be used to communicate an introspective and philosophical experience.
This philosophical aspect of light created by Turrell and similar artists such as Robert Irwin, were both influenced by the philosophical concept birthed by Edmund Husserl, “Phenomenology” (Weschler and Irwin, 2009). The tools of (Pure) Phenomenology allow the breakdown of experiences and objects to understand possible attributes that can explain the fundamental essence of a subjective experience. Husserl states that our regular experience of reality is defined by the natural attitude, the belief of that an object we see is just “that in itself” (Husserl, 2012). In the context of Turrell’s work Afrum, this would be the initial signifier of the three-dimensional cube of light. The phenomenological attitude which transcends the objective thinking of “things” is where there is a bracketing of the natural attitude. Bracketing is simply identifying the ways in which things are objectively seen. By bracketing the objective ways of seeing (natural attitude), one can question the subjective experiences that are had (Husserl, 2012). This process is classed as a (Phenomenological Reduction). It could be argued that Turrell’s work acts as a tool to facilitate this phenomenological reduction, upon realising the fallacy in perception (that the cube of light is in fact a two-dimensional plane of light) the spectator has transcended the natural attitude, focusing solely on their own perception of perceiving light, as stated by Turrell: “[to] see yourself seeing” (Guggenheim, 2013).
Turrell has proved that light is separable from its historical context and symbolic connotations. Hence being able to show that light is capable of imparting more philosophical and sensory experiences, as opposed to the theatrical and narrative driven experience. Turrell, in turn has shown that even the simplest presentation of light can cause a multitude of perceptual experiences.
Conclusion
The way we have seen light has changed throughout history. From religion and science to art and technology, light has always taken on a new culturally learned signs. Whether it is the prestige of light throughout history symbolised by the divine, the authoritarian and modernity of civilisation. This universal face of light is what makes it such an important medium to experiment with. It takes on multiple forms and simultaneously can be seen as an authoritative power, such as the gas lighting of 17th century Paris, or as a product of enjoyment in such festivities like baroque bonfires.
In this essay we have explored the symbolic meanings of light in contrast to historical context and the way that they are presented. Through examining early pioneers such Thomas Wilfred who had brought a new theatrical aspect of light to culture. Providing imaginative explorations of space through, immersing the spectator within the environment of the artwork. His speeches of introducing the artwork, although questionably interfere with the spectator’s personal perceptions, nevertheless they could provide a more specialised paradigm for them to explore the phenomena of light.
Conversely, this highlights the presentation of light in the works of James Turrell’s. His ability to transcend light’s intrinsically symbolic associations, communicating a direct experience of light to the spectator. This communication of the introspective, phenomenological attitude towards light.
Both of theses artists have provided a new way of looking at light as a medium, for creative exploration. Wilfred’s influence on the works of kinetic intermedia of light, which up until recent have largely been unresearched. Turrell is now one of the most recognised artists that use light. His work has provided the spectator not necessarily with new perceptions of light, rather, he has made the spectator aware of how they have learned to un-see light.
The importance of looking into the factors of how the perception of light can be manipulated, is not only just to create unrealistic and creative works, or to use it as subliminal advertising. Understanding how we see light and the ways that have helped influence these perceptions, forms a starting point form further investigation into the ways light can communicate as a language. We understand that in our surroundings light can create a hierarchy; neon signs can dominate the streets, the flashing light on a printer communicates it is “on” or “idle”. Even the simplest of acts of a light turning on in a distant block of flats suggests the presence of a person. They are visual ques that emit a sign, an element of communication, traveling at the speed of light.
While an eternity can be spent exploring the scientific details of light, can the exploration of light’s communication not run parallel?
“Seeing light is a metaphor for seeing the invisible in the visible, for detecting the fragile imaginal garment that holds our planet and all existence together. Once we have learned to see light, surely everything else will follow.”
– Arthur Zajonc, (Zajonc,1993)
28.01.2019