MICHAEL GOLDBERG AND THE ART OF ANXIETY
In the Russian film Stalker, directed by Andrei Tarkovsky, two tourists are led through a condemned building until they reach a central zone where their deepest desires become manifest. The checks that occur as the tourists get closer to this room strips them of their identity until they are finally naked and revealed to themselves in a space which is not about that space but ultimately about the interiority of their minds.
Michael Goldberg’s exhibition ‘Strong Language Some Violence Adult Themes’ at Artspace creates this same sense of anti-space. Goldberg’s past projects, such as his 1995 exhibition ‘A Humble Life’,1 have focused on the significance of place, in particular the post-colonial politics that ooze through the walls of heritage buildings like Elizabeth Bay House in Sydney. More recently Goldberg has been examining the effect of global markets and international zones (catchingafallingknife.com, 2002). Given this, it is perhaps not surprising then that Goldberg has turned to the antithesis of historical place—the international airport. What is remarkable here is the intricate web the artist weaves through this exhibition. Instead of feeling like an anonymous automaton directed remotely by the insistent semiotics of the space, we are finally confronted in ‘Strong Language Some Violence Adult Themes’, like the tourists in Stalker, with an uncomfortable image of ourselves.
In the first room we encounter what appears to be a cold Minimalist sculpture. Geometric shapes, industrially produced and pop-riveted together in a monochrome gray, sit on wooden pallets as if the gallery staff has not finished unpacking them. They are still strapped to the pallets protected by sheets of black foam. The coldness is amplified by the fluoro lights. The... The rest of this article is available to subscribers of Eyeline