Blog 1 — Luc Likes

The curatorial choreography at Climate Control, a young, open-minded gallery in the Mission District has reached an impressive high. Occupying a space previously curated by Et. Al. and before that Ratio 3, I’ve seen numerous exhibitions there over many years. Many have followed a familiar layout that has long been archetypal of exhibitions - artworks hung in regular intervals on the wall, one after the other.

I use the term curatorial choreography to refer to the sense of movement the installation imbues in the visitor, and how that affects their understanding and emotional response to the work. Upon entering Felisa Nguyen & Ching-Wei Wang’s exhibition of work a quatre mains, the visitor is confronted first once, then a second time, and finally a third time by a large wall text on the back wall of the entry gallery.

The haunting text reads:

Graphite text installation by Felisa Nguyen & Ching-Wei Wang at Climate Control

As I stood in awe of the declaration and awareness of grief and selfhood, a friend pointed out part of the process I’d missed. The entire wall was hand-written in graphite. I’ve seen so many vinyl graphics on exhibition, I was taken aback that I hadn’t looked closer. The sentiment echoed through the patient diligence of each painstaking mark.

On third inspection, as the room cleared, I saw the two footnotes, previously obscured by the crowd. The first - the unfamiliar character that read “Chinese character for 'deceased’, the second - a symbol of strength (resilience through a harsh winter).

The exhibition, the second in a series Climate Control has denoted their fall series, opened in line with the rising of the Beaver Moon, the final and brightest moon of the year. This moon, which I’ve watched rise slowly in luminous warm tones, symbolizes the settling down into patterns of quiet reflection and peace for the winter. In Nguyen and Wang’s exhibition, the tenderness and care with which the two artists have delicately worked together to create contemplative artworks that bolster our resilience through the looming winter, gently instilling in the viewer the feeling that they are not alone.

Throughout the space, items are paired together - two small dragon sculptures are installed delicately together, two jade objects grace the floor below the hand-drawn text, two graphite works on paper of Chinese characters hang together in the hallway. Upon entry, a remarkable piece leans against the wall - two tall sticks clasped together by an oversized 3D-printed clip. Thanks to the clip, the balance of these two sticks, each taller than most people, is reliant on the other in a moment of graceful support. I was told that the clip evokes those that Chinese children use to hold orchid petals together.

Sculptural work by Felisa Nguyen & Ching-Wei Wang at Climate Control

Seeing these repeated instances of doubling after reading the text about parents, my initial thoughts veered towards parental love and support. Yet as I ventured further through the space, entranced by the work of two unfamiliar artists, I recognized that neither’s hand was visible, and that the parental is far from the only source of doubling and sustaining. Doubling, camaraderie, love, support, and friendship come in many forms.

Ngyuen and Wang made a point of arriving in San Francisco in time to see the preceding exhibition at Climate Control by Ishan Clemenco - taking subtle inspiration from his own distillation of space and conceptual imagery. Formally, the two bodies of work are worlds apart. While at times they touch on similar themes of impermanence and legacy, the spirit of the two exhibitions feels concurrent, as if two distinct conceptual investigations captured the essence of the sanctuary through differing perspectives.

In the back room, a hanging installation of delicately folded origami planes that looked like bombers, a text piece on the wall spelling out Ve Nha (home in vietnamese) in hello kitty jewels, and a intricate display of abstracted graphite drawings on graphing paper, delicately hung on thin nails in a precise grid - the installation itself doubling the precision of the drawings themself.

Works by Felisa Nguyen & Ching-Wei Wang at Climate Control

As I left, having lingered much longer than planned, I felt a renewed sense of optimism and inspiration, of curiosity and hope. I’d floated through the exhibition, seeing both through my own eyes and seeing differently thanks to others. Touching on topics both inquisitive and intimate with both new and burgeoning friends.

There’s much to investigate further in Nguyen and Wang’s mysterious works. In the meantime, what is apparent is the sense of place that Climate Control has brilliantly conceived - choreographing exhibitions that make you feel something, bring people together, and remind us that if we’re open, we’re never truly alone.

Embracing the Fall Season