Elías Crespin
Cecilia de Torres New York
Circles, squares, pentagons, waves and lines moved in undulations and rhythm to the pull of transparent, mechanized nylon threads that triggered their choreographed movement.
It made sense that artist Elías Crespin initially worked as a scientist and programmer. Hailing from Caracas, Venezuela, Crespin draws inspiration from a long legacy of investigation into Kinetics and Constructivism by artists such as Jesús Soto and Alejandro Otero. In 2005, Crespin first showed a work at Cecilia de Torres gallery, and in 2011 he began working on “Parallels”, an exhibition of seven brass and stainless steel kinetic sculptures made specifically for the gallery space that opened this June.
The large gallery space was tranquil as the recognizable geometric shapes of each sculpture cast hard shadows on the wall. Then, gallery director Dan Pollock activated the works touching keys on his I-pad. This began a myriad of movement and each sculpture began to dance, moving its shadows in a sequence of organized—yet sometimes unexpected—patterns .
The first sculpture, Circuconcéntricos Latón , 2012 , was comprised of seven circular cords growing from small to large from its center, appearing like a sequence of planetary systems moving around its orbit. Made entirely of brass, each circle was suspended from three transparent lines that connected to a motor. Like a puppeteer orchestrating a show, the motor smoothly pulled and moved each circle to a script programmed by the artist. It was technologically clever, yet despite this, the work arguably felt like an improved variant on a predictable theme and its common shapes overused. However, Pollock disputed this explaining, “the strength of the work is its geometry, line and form which is part of its universal appeal.”
Irrespective, the optical effects in “Parallels” were impressive and there were moments in Crespin’s exhibition that were pure visual poetry. Two hanging nets titled Tapiz 5, 2012, and Tapiz 7, 2012, appeared as hanging lattices made of fine stainless steel rods. Undulating in waves and snaking their squares in graceful motion, the delicate nets gave the illusion of a mirage, swimming before one’s eyes with the effect of a Rothko painting. These works were, if nothing else, visually captivating.
However, it was the smallest work, Malla 8 Paralelas that offered the most convincing experience. Because of its intimacy, it was the only work that felt like it did not belong in a science fair. Made of small metal rods and stainless steel balls like fishing weights, Malla 8 Paralelas was a square of lines that, when in movement, emitted a creature-like aura. Its dark weights and independent arms performed in a less orchestrated and restrained manner, suggesting the possibility of morphing and jumping at the viewer if one stood too close. This was exciting.
It is clear that Elías Crespin is a master of manipulating depth perception by using the positive and negative of actual space to create an illusion of reflected space. However, Parallels was an obvious marriage between organic movement and technology, art and science that made for a reserved and pleasing presentation that did not transcend its traditional roots.