the cell
Brook Andrew’s work The Cell tempts viewers with a bulging mass covered in bold red and white diagonal lines. In its entirety, it is a 6 by 12.5 metre inflatable room that occupies the rectangular length of the gallery. To enter the work, to reveal its interior, viewers have to prepare by pulling on coveralls that recall the CSI jumpsuits worn to avoid contamination at crime scenes, and this reflects the biological connotations of the title.
Every surface of the work, the exterior, the overalls, primary colours or black, are embellished with a version of Andrew’s now trademark Wiradjuri-op pattern. A neat hole in the wall provides a crawl-through tunnel and entry to reveal an interior space covered in the same pattern. Upon entering, viewers become enmeshed in a fractured, overlapping and breathing interior space. The viewer has adopted a performative role, transforming the static geometric mass to dynamic crisscrossing opticality.
Experienced communally, the work provides a playpen for pleasure, robust jumping, rolling and just generally lounging about. As participants move about the space, patterned bodies clash and morph with the surroundings. The combinations of patterns crisscross to create sharp optical effects. Just as the boundaries between viewer and art object have become indistinct, the outline of figure and ground becomes blurry. Potentially disorienting, even producing a sense of queasiness, the network of interweaving patterns pulse and reverberate. The centre of gravity changes.
However, experienced alone, in solitary confinement, is to be isolated and disconnected within the hum of an air filled bubble. This produces an altogether different kind of discomfort. After bouncing off the walls, the enveloping plastic cocoon provides a compelling space for quiet contemplation and for one