HARRY BARTNICK

“Cruciform, Improved”

68 x 54 x 8 inches

2017 to 2019

Vintage electronic components, steel, wood, epoxy, LED lights, enamel, acrylic and oil paint.

Description:

A cruciform wall sculpture, approximately as tall as a person of average height. This is a Latin cross of generally standard proportions. The cross is encrusted with electronic components. A viewer knowledgeable about electronics would recognize these units as being primarily mid-century, pre solid-state technology, i.e. vintage electronics. They are juxtaposed in a tight configuration, implying possible functionality. Some are colorful, others less so.

Bundles of color-coded wires circulate within and in front of the cross, suggesting connectivity and electrification. However, many of the bundles are unattached, with their ends splayed out in various directions, so that their visual effect is of movement and animation: The wires appear self-directed and exploratory, sometimes attaching themselves to the electronic units. Many of the wires have claw-like tips.

The largest wire bundle acts as a swag, suspended from one side of the crosspiece to the other, mimicking the white cloth which sometimes drapes the cross in Catholic imagery.

The wiring creates directional swirls, disrupting the symmetry and softening the otherwise hard geometry of the piece. As well, there are three circular units near the point where the vertical and horizontal axis meet, acting as focal points.

Most of the electronic units are presented with their circuitry, resistors, condensers, etc. exposed, i.e. showing the “underside” of the chassis base. We see the “guts” of these objects, through which electrons and electricity once circulated. Other units present their “top” view, showing electron tubes, relays, a speaker, etc. Taken together with the streams of colorful wiring, the effect becomes somewhat biological, reminiscent of the organs, nervous and circulatory systems of the human body.

There are several clusters of small points of light which, when activated, further the illusion of functionality. A radio, stripped of its outer shell, receives one or two channels or can be adjusted to only receive static noise.

With its niche-like compartments and curves of wire bundles running through the work (at one point acting as connective volutes curving out from the top, down to the crossbar) the overall impression one might take from the piece is a somewhat (albeit non-spatial) Baroque effect in its intricate, heavily encrusted surface.

Internal illumination:

LED lighting is integrated into several units, dispersed within the unit or clustered together, ganglion-like. When activated, these give the impression that the electronics are “active”, are “on”.

Interpretation

The “meaning” of the piece is ultimately up to the viewer, who inevitably will approach it from their own formal, spiritual, iconographic, and aesthetic point of view.

But a likely reading might be that it represents a contemporary critique: The traditional belief in faith, sacrifice and redemption has become encrusted and obscured by the techno-detritus of contemporary culture. A connection can be made between this work and the gem-encrusted crosses of Medieval Europe and Byzantium: Visually stunning but raising questions about the conflict between the spiritual and material worlds.

Influences

Aside from the obvious inspiration of existing bejeweled crosses in museum collections, two artists who have influenced the creation of “Cruciform, Improved” and related pieces are Jean Tinguely, and Edward Kienholz.

The complex mechanical and often self-destructive work of the Swiss sculptor Tinguely has held a strong fascination for me. His re-purposing and re-configuring of the products of the machine age, his “metamechanics”, is both a celebration (visually) of their potential beauty, as well as a metaphor for the futility of human machinations.

A scavenger at garage sales and flea markets, the American artist Kienholz created gritty and powerful work in response to the darker side of American society and politics. Like Tinguely, Kienholz gathered pre-existing objects, to be re-contextualized in the studio as immersive, human scale, experiences.

Overall, “Cruciform, Improved”, like the work of Tinguely and Kienholz grows out of that aspect of Dadaism that featured the use of the “ready-made” object, pressed into service as art, perhaps best exemplified by Marcel Duchamp’s “Bicycle Wheel”.

Creation of the Cross

Since childhood I've been drawn to the inner workings of TVs and radios, both formally and technologically: The visual qualities of shape and color; Electronic energy passing through and being modified by intricate systems of resisters, condensers, and vacuum tubes, "magically" and incomprehensively culminating in sound and moving images. Early on, many hours were spent dismantling and examining the workings of discarded televisions retrieved from the local TV repair shop. Later, the electronic markets of New York City’s Canal Street were the source of more materials, accumulated for their visual value, with no particular purpose in mind, although some components became “still life” material for drawings.

Catholic iconography was also an area of interest, including the Latin cross and its association with the Passion and as a method of execution. I’ve visited many churches, mostly in Europe, particularly Italy, and have studied variations of the crucifix motif. I’m sympathetic both to those who embrace this form as a symbol of sacrifice and redemption, and to those who, rejecting Christianity, are repulsed by it. In either case, the Latin cross is a significant, provocative, and highly charged object.

In 2017, I began assembling parts of my collection, testing how they might fit together as a wall assemblage. The combination gradually took on a cruciform shape, leading to a study of traditional Latin cross proportions. New units were found on the internet that eventually filled out the final configuration.

The sculpture progressed over 2 summers, working outdoors, and involved cutting, shaping, and fastening the framing members. The initial challenge was to create a frame that could support the weight of the units, while allowing for reconfigurations to accommodate changes.

During the second summer of development, the work began to take on a momentum of its own, and all of the components fell into place.

Final additions included the identification, with enamel, oil, and acrylic paint, of more colorful points in contrast to less colorful areas and determining the method of hanging the heavy construction. A hanging system of wire cables was created, attached to 3 points in the sculpture, all suspended from a heavy-gauge hook screwed directly into a wall stud.

When I determined that the piece was finished, 2 events occurred, one fortunate and the other puzzling.

1. During a neighborhood walk, a large slot machine, somewhat busted up, had been put out on the curb for trash pick-up. Previously, the use of color-coded wiring had been considered for inclusion in the sculpture, but no satisfactory source could be found. The slot machine was full of bundled, colorful wiring. Returning with tools, I pulled out all the available wiring. This was incorporated into the piece, primarily as a swag from one arm of the crosspiece to the other, and as color “streams” circulating within the cross.

2. The internal electronics of a vintage radio were incorporated into the sculpture, purely for their visual qualities. When the work was completed, the radio was cautiously plugged in to an electrical outlet without much hope of functionality. Surprisingly, after some adjusting of the tuner dial, a voice came through over the static: An evangelical Christian talk show.