“Now, inhale…” might seem like a weird reminder, considering we often hear it at the start of countless meditation sessions. Considering the rule of survival, we can endure three weeks without food, three days without water, yet a mere three minutes without oxygen. These facts underpin the importance of the theme explored in the exhibition, Take a Breath, at the Irish Museum of Modern Art. The show contemplates the reason, manner, and substance of our breathing. One could raise a query: Isn’t every piece of art fundamentally about respiration? After all, the term “to inspire” also means ‘to breathe’.
Contrasting the conventional 3-minute without breath rule, a freediver follows a different principality. The exhibition advocates challenging assumptions and appropriately commences with a water-based installation by the Italian contemporary artist Alex Cecchetti. The world’s oceans contribute around 50% of the planet’s oxygen. Here, undersea footage from dives and freedives in the Philippines plays over indigo silk hangings. Irish artist and freediving champ Nina McGowan, speaking at a related exhibition, states that the sea is free from commercialisation, capitalism, and language. The ocean envelops and evades our grasp. Cecchetti’s silk hangings harbour hammocks, welcoming viewers to immerse themselves in this fragile and bizarre marine ecosystem. In a recent visit, though, not a single visitor seemed keen to take the plunge.
With the complex task of encapsulating the nebulous, Take a Breath delves into its theme through five angles. Breath as meditation and language, in conflict; air amidst environmental calamities; and feminism, race and ecology presented together, a tripartite amalgamation leaning toward the indiscriminate. Regardless, the expansive array of artwork and thoughtful curation, defying predictability, lend a provocative aesthetic that inspires thinkers, generally without getting overwhelmed by its learned nature.
Examining the element of air in the ensuing space of Imma’s sprawling corridors, we encounter Lawrence Abu Hamdan’s work titled Air Conditioning. This piece from the Jordan-native, Beirut-located artist, presents a detailed exploration of what he dubs “atmospheric oppression”. Through its engagement with video and an expansive wall panel, the work meticulously follows Israeli drones, fighter jets and other remote-controlled aircrafts across the Lebanese sky over 15 years. Abu Hamdan’s in-depth research is compiled from United Nations resources.
Created in 2022, well before the Palestine conflict, Hamdan’s work accentuates the menacing, ever-present sound of such invasions for those beneath, while the resulting smoke trails inflict their unique environmental harm.
The war’s lethal aftermath is often cloaked with relief at a ceasefire. However, raising awareness about the urgency of invisible threats can be a challenging task. One could argue that considering the environmental impacts of warfare might seem odd when the direct, physical ravages of weapons pose a more immediate danger. However, the toll is undeniably substantial.
This message is clear in the piece titled 2°4′355″N 5°3′23″E by Algerian artist Ammar Bouras. The film, assembled with witness accounts, reveals the build-up and aftermath of the Béryl incident of 1962. In this French atomic test, nearby In Ekker in the Algerian desert, underground passages were not adequately sealed. Later reports predominantly dwelt on the French soldiers and officials impacted by radiation exposure. However, Bouras brings the unheard stories of the local community into the spotlight. Their lands, sources of income, and at many times, their lives, were confiscated due to this occurrence.
Transitioning into activism, Forensic Architecture a team stationed at Goldsmiths, affiliation of the University of London, exhibits a meticulously analysed dissecting of tear gas utilised in protests countering racial policing abuses in Portland, Oregon, in 2020. Their video underlines the sheer magnitude of the industry producing massively toxic substances, meant for particular state regulation bodies, by tracing tear-gas plumes “significantly exceeding recognised safety limits”.
Tear Gas Tuesday’s scene, which depicts the trajectory of the gas, bears striking resemblance to the 2017’s Shot Crowd by Joy Gerrard, an Irish artist. Yet, it’s the work of her brother, John Gerrard, that is highlighted here. His live 3D projection titled Dust Storm (Manter, Kansas) 2008, is an accurate recreation of the ominous Black Sunday dust storm that swept across United States’ mid plains on 14th April, 1935. The projection unveils the terrifying aftermath of disrupting the fragile equilibrium of nature and human meddling, underscoring our feeble existence in the face of the earth’s might.
A petite gallery is home to softer expressions of related worries. Here, we find JMW Turner’s famous piece, The Lake, Petworth, Sunrise, created in the years 1827-8, which showcases a dramatic landscape often associated with the artist. The stunning atmospheric renditions in the artwork are, in large part, due to the artist’s inherent talent, but they were also consequences of three massive volcanic outbursts that took place over 20 years, starting with Tambora in Indonesia in 1815. The incredible sunrises and sunsets persisted for over a decade, as pollution lingered in the air, due to the historic explosion producing the biggest ash cloud ever recorded, leading to a year without a summer which resulted in crop failure, starvation and death.
On entering the Imma exhibition, text made available for visitors informs us that “roughly seven million people lose their lives annually due to indoor and outdoor air pollution.” Within this area, you’ll find Yuri Pattison’s Sun[set] Provisioning, a 2019 installation. This work includes an atomic clock, computer systems, sensors and a screen. Pattison, whose work can also be seen at Dublin Port’s Pumphouse, utilises this system to collect local pollution data and morph it into fictitious sunsets, creating more intense hues with higher pollution levels.
Despite the fervour, the more contemplative pieces of Take a Breath seem to get lost in the crowd. Patrick Scott’s glittering Meditation Paintings are somewhat overshadowed, displayed next to Maria Hassabi’s gleaming gold mirrored seats. These seats, seemingly unrelated but actually linked to July performances, can seem out of place, more like fancy decor from a wealthy person’s seaside residence than a contemplation on the act of breathing in and out. Similarly, the expansive minimalist illustrations by Waqas Khan supposedly “surpass spatial dimensions”, but may require more than just a hallway to effectively communicate this.
Among the exhibits, Tambora’s eruption has been included in a well-documented and clear chronological event presentation, a feature the Imma’s curator squad has been particularly good at, as demonstrated in the prior year’s Self-Determination exhibition. Starting with the industrial revolution, it monitors the progression of industries and trade, alongside their environmental and human impacts. It encompasses war and developments in lethal chemical weaponry, remaining abreast of their ramifications in art and literature. Advancing through further wars, harmful industrial incidents and natural calamities, we reach the introduction of 1970’s first UN Earth Day and the US Clean Air Act. Over 50 years later, the compromises and surrenders are ongoing.
In 2014, “I can’t breathe” emerged as a rallying cry for the Black Lives Matter campaign, stemming from the final utterance of Eric Garner, a victim of a fatal chokehold by a New York cop. A 2023 piece crafted by Austrian-origin artist Belinda Kazeem-Kaminski, named Respire (Liverpool), features a tri-screen video of several black individuals breathing into red balloons. The balloons, in this context, emphasize the delicate essence of breath; meanwhile the installation imparts a nuanced sense of sacred ritual.
The symbolism of breath in a crimson balloon is evocative of Piero Manzoni’s 1960 piece, “Artist’s Breath”. Although not showcased in this exhibition, the Italian maestro was known to attribute spiritual significance to inflating a balloon, stating it was an act of eternalising his essence. Charging 200 lire, equivalent to €3 today, for each litre of air in his scarlet balloons, the fleeting vestiges of his life celebrated in these crumpled artefacts outlived him; Manzoni passed away at a mere 30 years old.
This assembly offers an array of riveting, emotive, and occasionally vexing elements. Marina Abramovic finds herself speechless, Ana Mendieta demonstrates a breath’s power to shift stones, while Sheroanawe Hakihiiwe designs symbolic representations of flora, fauna, air, and water inspired by his Yanomami lineage, hailing from the Amazon rainforest on the Venezuela-Brazil frontier. Khadija Saye tragically succumbed to the 2017 Grenfell Tower blaze, but her legacy lives on through a mystifying photographic exploration of her Gambian ancestry.
Viewers are encouraged to find tranquillity amidst the simultaneous exuberance of artists’ urgent expressions of our primal need for breath and desperate pleas on behalf of our beleaguered planet. Recognising this dichotomy itself exemplifies the relentless task confronting those committed to preserving our world. Survival entails not only tackling the crisis proactively, but also deliberately quieting its incessant distress signals in our daily lives.
As I reflect upon the conclusion, I’m left feeling melancholy and profoundly affected by the masterpiece, The Last Silent Movie, a 2007 work by Susan Hiller. This piece entraps the viewer in a black screen experience, embarking on a journey across the world in search of endangered and extinct languages. There are echoes on the fringe of perception, similar to spirits drifting through time. Some of these echoes are grainy field captured pieces while others are salvageable from past language classes. The on-screen representations relay various stories, such as the Silbo Gomero’s whistles reverberating through desolate valleys, recounting the forgotten need for someone to bring their percussion instrument to the celebration. This piece brings to mind a quote from Thomas Kinsella’s Nightwalker, “A dying language echoes / Across a century’s silence.” It is a stark reminder of the immense yet usually unnoticed privilege of simply having the ability to respire.
The exhibition, called “Take a Breath” will remain at the Irish Museum of Modern Art, in Dublin till March 17th, 2025. Additionally, work by Yuri Pattison will also be available for viewing at the Pumphouse, in Dublin Port, until the 27th of October.