The installation, which revolves around the mysterious number ‘7’, is on display at Amin Gulgee Gallery till April 7 and will then be on its way to GAM (Galleria d’Arte Moderna) in Rome where it will be curated by Paolo de Grandis and Claudio Crescentini.
When I entered the gallery last Sunday, my eyes were first drawn to amber bottles placed neatly along the wall to my right. I wondered if these bottles had been placed there to surprise the visitor with a beautiful alignment of unassuming objects as part of the show, or if they had always been there – discarded and forgotten. But Amin Gulgee is nothing if not deliberate – even in the act of ‘forgetting’.
“The show is called 7. It’s a verse divided into seven sections which is repeated throughout the exhibition,’’ Gulgee said when we sat down over some delicious coffee to discuss this installation.
Amber bottles neatly lined the room where we sat. Some of them were placed in pairs, others in groups and many others stood alone…but this time, they were not empty. These bottles were part of the performance work Love Letters, where visitors at the gallery are invited to write a declaration of love to a person, place or thing in the past, present or future, slip them into the bottles and place them against a wall.
But these bottles were by no means the center piece of the show. That space was reserved for a flat structure of charcoal and copper. Calligraphic text sculpted in copper – encased in a dark, delicate frame of charcoal – glinted in the light of the setting sun, pulling me into the words as I tugged at my memory to understand their meaning. An essay by Zarmeene Shah, accompanying the exhibition, notes: “Calligraphic text occurs and recurs as persistent, almost obsessive concern in Gulgee’s practice, manifesting in various sculptural formations, sometimes appearing as geometrical constructions, or as delicately balanced, often towering configurations that reveal within material, form and structure – elements at play in Gulgee’s work.”
In 7, deconstructed, fragmented calligraphy was depicted through vertically configured screens, delicate drawings in space and through Gulgee’s Scrolls, a delightful play of light and shadow. Calligraphic text also appeared in another structure – tall pillars of delicate carvings of words, endlessly entwined, spinning upwards.
As I examined these objects, I also noticed the sound accompanying the art. In a corner of the room, a video was on display which Gulgee later told me was based on an algorithm. Letters appeared randomly on the screen and as they connected a musical note sounded out. Though apparently random, the overall composition was incredibly melodious.
I think the Romans are up for quite the experience, as this work travels to Italy.