
This season’s installment of “installation art” at Piazza Plebiscito did not go off without a hitch. It was supposed to be in place on December 19 and was to be called “Pioneer II.” It was to be an example of what is called “sound art” or “Cymatics”—the visualization of sound; that is, seeing the patterns caused, say, in sand or in a liquid, by sound vibrations. You can test the effect by covering your Stradivarius violin with flour and starting to play. You see pretty pattens in the flour as it is “excited” by the sound—just as you are excited by the sudden drop in the value of your fiddle!
This year’s artist was Carsten Nicolai (b. 1965, Karl-Marx- Stadt, Germany). The plan was to install three large balloons moored with metal cylinders in the square (photo, above). The balloons were to be equipped with internal light sources and electronically linked to motion detectors on Mount Vesuvius. Rumbles at the volcano would be translated into audible pitch and run through loud speakers set up in the square. The effect of that sound would cause something to happen to the balloons, but I don't know what. The purpose of it all was to show how intimately the city is linked to the volcano. In any event, the art had to be "uninstalled"—that is, the balloons were removed from their cylinders. The display was too fragile, the windy weather wasn't helping, and, apparently, one of the components had already been damaged by a pre-New Year's firecracker.
Fortunately, Nicolai had some reserve art warming up on the sidelines, reusing the same cylinders that had contained the balloons. The display turned into three "volcanoes of light" (photo, below) in place of the three large balloons. The physical set-up is almost identical; that is, there are now three large cylinders representing Vesuvius (and his two twin brothers?) in the square. At night you can enjoy the light display over the rims of the "volcanoes." The display is accompanied by volcano-ey rumbles of sound effects —at night, that is. Interesting point: this particular work of installation art is "site specific" (that is, the theme is bound to a particular place—in this case, our local volcano). That is not uncommon for installation art (Rebecca Horn's 2002 display in Naples was another example). But this one is also time-of-day specific; you can only see it at night. If you know nothing of the display and walk across Piazza Plebiscito on a bright sunny day and see only the cylinders, you will no doubt work out some plausible interpretation of what it all means. This, of course, will have nothing to do with volcanoes. Not to fret—in the parlance of modern art criticism, your interpretation then becomes part of the "extended discourse" on, of, around and about the work. (Feel better?)
There has been a lot of criticism over the amount of money spent on the project: 500,000 euros.