Contrary to the natural ambiance of Manhattan, West 26th Street (near The High Line) is a relatively peaceful area. Walking around, one may feel the tranquility in the air. It is almost as if you went down a rabbit hole and were exposed to the “other” side of Manhattan. A side rich in culture and beauty but, defined by the peculiar galleries and exhibits surrounding it. 

Stepping into the Fergus McCaffrey and Paula Cooper galleries, one is fascinated by the great differences in which artworks are presented. The Fergus McCaffrey gallery isn’t traditional in any sense. It strays away from the “white cube” setting of a gallery, as described by Brian O’Doherty. The Paula Cooper Gallery mimics the standards set by the “white cube” setting but has some dark undertones that give off an uneasy aura.

The Fergus McCaffrey Gallery – Ishiuchi Miyako

The Paula Cooper Gallery – Christian Marclay

When visiting the Fergus McCaffrey gallery, the photographs of Ishiuchi Miyako were on display. As mentioned, prior, the gallery wasn’t set up as a traditional “white cube”. It was rather colorful actually. Each section of the gallery had a differently painted wall. The colors of the walls were either black, dark blue, light blue, gray, and or pink. Lighting wise, not every photograph had a LED bulb pointed towards it. Some pieces utilized the natural light coming from the tall windows of the building instead. The placement of the works of art on the walls was also extremely peculiar. They weren’t totally aligned with one another. They were put up on the walls in an intentionally random manner.

The Fergus McCaffrey Gallery – Ishiuchi Miyako

The space affected the way I viewed individual artworks greatly. For example when I saw “From Yokosuka Third Position” c. 1981, hung upon a black wall I fell into a state of despair and emptiness. The photograph was of a large abandoned building. The windows of the building were boarded up, the structure was being chipped away slowly by nature, and refuse was surrounding it. What once may have been an area filled with frequent visitors was now vacant and noiseless. The black walls added to this feeling of desolation and despair. But, the one light shining upon the photograph gave off the idea that it was once a place loved by many. If the photograph was hung upon, say a white wall, I may have had a different initial impression. I would’ve thought the piece reflected the past, focusing on memorable memories made near the building. But the black wall just gave off a sense of immeasurable sadness.

The Fergus McCaffrey Gallery – Ishiuchi Miyako – “From Yokosuka Third Position” c. 1981

Another piece in the McCaffrey gallery by Miyako, that I viewed was called “Innocence”. It was a black/white photograph of an individual’s hand and wrist. It was a relatively small print and was hung up alone on a gray wall. Directly next to and across from the photograph were pink walls. The pink walls contrary to the gray one were filled with pictures. Seeing the lone photograph on the gray wall drew me in. I paused to view it and noticed a scar on the lower portion of the wrist. Continuing upwards, I saw what seemed to be a clenched fist slowly letting go. Maybe this signifies growth and acceptance. The photograph might’ve been a reflection on past mistakes. And those pasts mistakes are being “let go of” as the individual slowly unclenches its fists. If the walls were not different colors and the photograph wasn’t alone on the wall, I might’ve not paused to look at it. The way the space was set up affected me, by intriguing me into viewing the specific artwork. The contrast and differences between how the photographs were set up led me to view them. If the space wasn’t set up the way it was, I may have ignored or brushed off one of the most important pieces in the gallery.

The Fergus McCaffrey Gallery – Ishiuchi Miyako – “Innocence”

When visiting the Paula Cooper Gallery, the works of Christian Marclay were on display. When first going into the gallery I saw countless woodcuts. The woodcuts took the Japanese manga style and Western style of comic books and combined them together to create artworks of still and silent faces. The space itself mimicked the “white cube” setting but wasn’t fully lit. There was a mysterious darkness to the space.

The Paula Cooper Gallery – Christian Marclay

When walking around I heard a faint noise coming from a dark room. In awe, I slowly walked into the room to experience the video attached below. 

 

Confused and in shock I quickly left the room and asked one of the employees of the Gallery some questions. I asked them about the artwork and what it meant. They explained to me that Marclay titled the exhibit “48 War Movies & Screams”. The video above, 48 War Movies (2019) is a single-channel video that collapses conflicts from the Civil War to Iraq into a horrifying aggregate spectacle of war. That is the video I walked into and heard all throughout the gallery. In response to this kaleidoscope of continuous conflict were a series of screaming faces frozen in perpetual terror. These are the large woodcuts that I saw all around the gallery. The traditional “white cube” setting had a new addition… sound. The creepy sound of the 48 War Movies video was heard all around the gallery and it reeled me in slowly to its origin. The setting affected me in a great way as I kind of became a detective for a while. Confused by the eerie noise, I was enticed into exploring the whole gallery. The journey I went on to find the origin of the eerie noise was a great way for me to explore the works of Marclay. The video was a clever addition to the gallery overall. 

The Paula Cooper Gallery – Christian Marclay

All in all, gallery space affects the viewer in a great way. The color of the walls, the lighting, and the general atmosphere may change the way a viewer decodes and experiences artwork. As evident in the encounters I had with the specific artworks in the gallery, if even one detail of the space was changed, I may have viewed the piece in a different way. If the wall was white for “From Yokosuka Third Position” by Miyako, I may have felt a different way. If “Innocence” by Miyako was surrounded with other photographs I may have not noticed it. And lastly, if the 48 War Movies video wasn’t playing, giving off the eerie noise, I may have not explored the Paula Cooper Gallery meticulously in search for it. The way in which art is displayed truly affects how the viewer may perceive it.