A Reflection of Dan Graham’s Beyond Exhibit

From a retrospective of Robert Rauschenberg, to a refined look at the play between high fashion and architecture in the Skin and Bones Exhibit, The Museum of Contemporary Art (MOCA) in downtown Los Angeles has had a cornucopia of profound and unique art exhibits in the last few years. Dan Graham’s Beyond is yet another impressive exhibit that guides the viewer through the life, eyes, and mind of a great visual artist.

I must admit, however, my thoughts remain locked within the very first room of the exhibit. I had stepped into one of his sculptures named, Triangular Solids with Circular Inserts (Variation E) (1989/2007). Sure, the title is a bit pretentious, and the work itself is as complex as what is ironically labeled a “Minimalist” sculpture made by Donald Judd in the 1960’s, but the surface was more intoxicating and absorbing. Graham uses one-way mirrors, semi-transparent glass, and two-way mirrors to create a sculpture that is the epitome of the Minimalist mantra: a physical object that makes the viewer aware of the space they inhabit. When I entered the triangle through a circular portal, I was surrounded by reflections of myself. Against the mirror I appeared clearly, yet the semi-transparent glass placed my reflection next to other people in the gallery space, yet separated me from them by the sheet of glass. On the third wall of the sculpture, a guard stood oblivious to my existence because of the two-way mirror. I boldly tested this fact by making a funny-face at him and waving my hands up and down rapidly. He continued to rock on his feet, unable to see my brash gestures.

I knew there were many other rooms to visit in the exhibit, but I didn’t want to leave my isolated space within the sculpture. The truth is that this exhibit was very well organized and presented. The sculptures in the front room existed as a gateway into the other visual and spatial pieces made by Graham. Graham is known as a video artist above all else. His attention to slight visual effects and tricks in his photography and two-way (multiple projector) video installations seem to engage his sculptural pieces in a very dynamic relationship. By the time I reached the piece Opposing Mirror and Video Monitors on Time Delay (1974/93), I was surprised, and completely engrossed.

Two monitors and a mirror confronted me. The monitor on my right showed my movements immediately. I turned assuming to see the same on the left-hand side. Instead, the mirror and monitor showed nothing; until several seconds later, I saw myself enter the room. I smiled when I realized the monitor was on a time delay. It was fun to observe your own movements from a somewhat removed circumstance.

From videos and pictures, to architectural models and blueprints, the exhibit remained cohesive and linear. Reflecting the precisely constructed equipment, models, sculptures, and pictures, the exhibit remained a success, until the very end, that is.

As I entered the secluded theater constructed in the middle of the gallery space, I wondered if I was still in the same exhibit. Perhaps I had accidentally wandered into another section of the museum where there was a separate exhibit. A film, Rock My Religion (1982-84), directed by Graham and inspired by essays he had written, was playing on the screen. But in the scope of the exhibit, I felt like I was going into a movie theater to watch a movie by some forgettable independent film-maker.

When I left the exhibit, it was with a sour taste on my already sugar coated tongue. I had to scratch at it before I could taste the sweetness again. It seemed a shame too, because it was really the very last piece within the exhibit that threw me off balance. Once I began talking to my friends about the exhibit, however, the moment in the reflective triangle came back to me, and I decided to lock it away in my memory to revisit whenever I wanted.