NEW YORK—Around my artwork there is often the whiff of a science project," Adrienne Klein declares in her Artist's Statement. Indeed, Klein mixes a dose of science and a little something extra into the matrix of each of her pieces, including a dash of philosophy, a pinch of mathematics, and lots of innovation.
One could say that she is a sort of neo-Renaissance artist. Beginning in the fifteenth-century, certain artists have become famous for incorporating elements from other intellectual fields into their work. For example, Paolo Uccello delighted in making complex paintings in which he sought to solve the problems of mathematical perspective. It is said that when his frustrated wife called him to bed, Uccello would reply, "Oh, what a sweet thing is this perspective!"
High Renaissance master Leonardo da Vinci probed the physical sciences. "Art," he wrote, "truly is a science." Eighteenth century artists such as Jacques-Louis David looked to philosophy for inspiration, as evidenced in his 1787 painting, "Death of Socrates." Nineteenth century Pointilist painter Georges Seurat studied contemporary scientific advances in color theory to create what he termed "optical painting." Klein brings this tradition into the 21st century with artworks that promise more than simply a "pretty picture."
As Klein's intellectual pursuits are richly varied, so too her artistic skills span a multitude of mediums: holograms, videos of insects framed under dollops of amber, charcoal portraits on vellum, and etchings on glass—to name a few. Despite the range of materials and disciplines, there are a few themes that remain constant, allowing the viewer to contemplate these core ideas from different perspectives. The theme that is prominent in this particular exhibit is isolation and the human psyche. In "My Amnesia," Klein depicts a woman floating peacefully above the skyscrapers of chaotic New York City, separated by a thin film of water that ripples above a video of the busy, bustling metropolis, complete with traffic jams. The woman's surroundings are utterly irrelevant to her. In her psychological condition, she may as well be in a vacuum. Across from this drawing are two renditions of astronauts floating in space, titled "Solitary Figure, Single Light Source #1" and "Solitary Figure, Single Light Source #2," respectively.
The figures float alone, and seemingly fully aware that they are enveloped in vast amounts of dark space and very little matter. In sharp contrast to the eerily serene woman in "My Amnesia" who is experiencing a dimension of void within a hectic city , the astronauts incite the energy and excitement of space travel and exploration.
Klein later explained that she particularly enjoys drawing the human figure, so it is natural that she should gravitate towards drawing astronauts in space—this way, the focus is on the figure and there is no expectation of a detailed background—a black hole suits the literal practice and the metaphorical meaning. For it is left to the viewer to fill these spatial voids. After all, we are all solitary figures, filling space with objects or ideas (imaginary or real) that stem from our knowledge, imagination, and memory…or lack thereof.
The Center for Holographic Art' has summer hours and is open to the public on Saturday from noon to 5pm or by appointment. On request, Klein will explain the science and logic behind her work. Klein is co-Director of Science & the Arts at the Graduate Center of The City University of New York.
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