A Brief Tour of the Art Hotel

The Art Hotel in Sacramento was a "hotel" featuring the work of many artists who created their artwork in abandoned Jade Apartments on 7th and L St.  The Art Hotel was open from February 5 - 13, 2016, although there was a special VIP opening on Thursday, February 4th.  Much like how the tenants of an apartment complex or guests in a hotel may arrange their belongings in their rooms to express their own identity, style, or who they are, all of the artists had their own style, which showed through their unique interpretation of the space they chose.  However, unlike an everyday hotel, the artists could deck out the various rooms of the building to their heart's content, whether in the form of graffiti, massive installations, or literal holes in the walls and ceilings.  If there is a "catch," it is that the Art Hotel is temporary and will soon be demolished this spring.  All of the artists seemed to embrace the ephemeral aspect of the project though, and in a way, it made the Art Hotel that much more special.

The Art Hotel was open each day from around 11am - 11pm (although the hours varied on different days during its week-long run; on the weekend, the hours were extended due to the huge turnout).  Speaking of turnout, it was great to see so many people interested in the Sacramento art scene.  However, lots of people means long lines, but this was a unique experience in itself.  When I was there, the average wait time seemed to be an hour and a half, but the volunteers at the Art Hotel had a nifty ticket set-up where visitors simply took their ticket for a specific time (whether for the next immediate showing or a later time that day) and could return later if the wait was long.  Around fifty people could be let in at a time, and each "tour group" was given thirty minutes to wander and explore the Art Hotel (not enough time to take in five floors of artistry!).  For those who did not get to see this great event in Sacramento, there is a virtual tour of the Art Hotel that will be available until the building's demolition that can be visited here: www.virtualarthotel.com

For this post, I will cover at least a few of the artists and their spaces, but this brief overview does not do the building justice as practically every wall, floor, and ceiling was covered in art.  Floor One of the Art Hotel featured the entryway of the building, with a few artworks, but most of the artwork began on Floor Two.  One of the first artworks that made a strong impression on me was Riding the Wall, which included graffiti, "traditional" paintings hung on the wall, and performance art as skateboarders rode up and down a make-shift plywood half-pipe, leaving behind paint trails on the floor that add another dimension to this piece.  Riding the Wall celebrates skater culture, and the accompanying statement elaborated on how the artists wanted to bring attention to the normally overlooked aspects of skateboarding, such as the unique skid and scuff marks left by skateboarders on sidewalk, rails, etc. in everyday life.

 

 Graffiti in the installation, Riding the Wall.  Visitors can walk on the half-pipe so long as no skateboarders are there.

 

Another view of Riding the Wall.  I thought the ceiling fan offered an interesting counterpoint to the "skate park" setting.

Riding the Wall, like many of the artworks in the Art Hotel, challenges conventions of art viewing, such as seeing paintings and other two-dimensional works in "traditional" museums.  Riding the Wall could be classified as "installation," but there were so many other types of artworks within this space, and it was really its own experience as the viewer could actually step into the space of Riding the Wall.  Another installation that addressed conventions in art viewing was the one with the wooden man peering into a cavernous wall on Floor Three in Room 302, the living room.  The man literally emerges out of the hardwood floor and gazes into a wall completely opened and transformed into wooden, spray-painted abstract polygons and graceful swirls.  The narrative of this piece, if there is one, is interesting in that the man is actually facing a mirror, which is placed at the end of the "cavern."  This installation was created by sculptor Shaun Burner and multi-media artist Franceska Gamez.  The installation not only displaces the room but also the "traditional" art viewing experience, as the man fills the space of the room, and viewers can step and walk all around the man and check out the various nooks and crannies in the room if they wish.  Burner and Gamez's installation prompts discussion on the possibilities of viewing art in a physical space.

Shaun Burner and Franceska Gamez, Floor Three, Room 302, Living Room.

More of Gamez's work can be seen in a black and white kitchen.  A painting of a mysterious woman with applied directly on a corner wall.  The woman and several of her other works feature her iconic parallelograms, trapezoids, and abstract swirls, like those seen in the living room installation with the wooden man.  Her artworks in this room are relatively small in scale, but this invites viewers to take a closer look.  Some are figurative (one features a golden tree, others portray more mysterious female faces) while others are more abstract, but they are all united by a similar aesthetic and Gamez's mastery of using her materials, such as cardboard, wood, and spray paint.  Seeing Gamez's work in both the living room with Burner's wooden man and the kitchen at the Art Hotel was a real treat.  I happened to be in a drawing course with Gamez at Sac State a while back, where I first saw one of her pieces with spray paint and cardboard, and it was really neat to see how her work has changed and evolved since then.

A view of the kitchen featuring Gamez's work, such as this painting.

More work by Gamez on the back wall.

Next to the kitchen with Gamez's artwork is one last installation I will cover.  The installation featured a two-room set-up by Kaz Huette, Darlene Engellenner, and Diane Rukhala Bell.  The layout created an interesting dialog that was not apparent at first.  Visitors first walk up to an unassuming bathroom door with a conspicuous peep hole that says "Don't Look."  If visitors dare partake in the act of voyeurism, Huette, Engellenner, and Bell comically address viewers' expectations by revealing a benign scene with two ducks floating in water-filled bathtub with two-dimensional shower water drops on the wall.  A clear counterpoint to the bathroom is a room with a black curtain covering its entrance, with an "Enter" sign over the door frame, which I will refer to as the "Bird Room."  An essential part of the Bird Room is the ominous, looping soundtrack of cawing crows, screeches of an eagle, and the ticking of a clock.  Even from outside of the room, visitors can hear the soundtrack.  If viewers are curious (or courageous) enough, they walk past the curtain into a completely dark room except for some UV lights.  In this room, the viewer's role of voyeur suddenly shifts to the position of being watched.  The center of the room showcases a flock of birds, possibly made of paper, that are suspended from the ceiling and are either flying around, rising out of, or cascading into a fiery cage.  A mysterious white shape covers part of the wall on the right (if the viewer is facing the birds with his or her back to the door).  If viewers missed it upon entering the room, they will find that a menacing eye (instead of a fairly harmless peep hole) is indeed "watching" them.  The word, "Look," with an arrow pointing into the pupil of the eye is painted by the eye.  Within the pupil are faint clock representations, which only adds to the horror and fear element of this room with their suggestion of passing time and mortality.

Huette, Engellenner, and Bell's installation made a real impression on me because it has so much to offer in terms of discussing acts of voyeurism, aversion, and watching.  For example, all of the words used for the Bird Room suggested a friendly invitation, such as the "Enter" sign and the "Look" painted by the eye.  However, practically everything else with the Bird Room was intimidating, such as the visuals of the ghostly birds flying around the bin, the mysterious white object on the wall, the eye, the use of black for both the curtain and interior walls, and the soundtrack.  On the other hand, the "Bird Bathroom" with the shower spray and ducks was almost the exact opposite; the words of "Don't Look" and the closed door suggested that viewers'  eyes were not welcome, yet the white palette of the door and interior of the bathroom were relatively inviting.  Both rooms employ reverse psychology and even speak to the common occurrence of people either looking at things when they are told not to or not looking when they are told they should.  Huette, Engellenner, and Bell use a multitude of stylistic and behavioral conventions to center upon a dialogue about what circumstances creates aversion while others attract unwanted gazes.  As suggested by their use of the explicit and "spoken" (the visual words) and the implicit and "unspoken" (the messages sent by the use of black and white and overall ambiance of each room), the artists address the complicated nature of human communication and psychology.

 Does the viewer dare to?

 The viewer is rewarded with a view of blue shower water drops and two painted black ducks made out of some sort of material, possibly wood.

Another portion of the collaborative installation by Kaz Huette, Darlene Engellenner, and Diane Rukhala Bell.  Paper (?) birds fly above a fiery, illuminated bin in a dark space lit by UV lights.