While we were scouting locations within the Dayton Art Institute for our wedding, I noticed that Robert had a visceral reaction to a specific work in the modern American collection. He insisted that it was time to go as he turned abruptly away from this piece. I asked him later what caused his reaction to the work he referred to as the "creepy hair people", and he said, "they aren't right. There's something wrong with that. It's like a nightmare."
The piece is called "Lost and Found", was created by Alison Saar in 2003, and is composed of wood, tin and wire.
Two figures sit opposite each other in red-lacquered chairs, connected to each other by a massive tangle of heavy wire hair. One seat back is labeled LOST and the other FOUND. The figures themselves are sheathed in embossed tin, a riveted patchwork of old ceiling tiles or other scrap metal.
The effect of the textured tin brings to mind scarrification, tattoos, an external representation of personal history, and the layers (like an onion) of experience that combine to make an individual.
The figures both have clenched fists, but the features of the hands and feet are not clearly articulated, as if the figures are encased in this riveted shell. The clenched fists suggest emotional intensity, while the curled-up posture suggests that this emotional energy is being contained...
The hair, then, might represent energy, or the passage of time between a "lost" and a "found" period in an individual's life, or accumulated self-knowledge, or the education that just living provides. I really don't know.
I am profoundly interested in the particular quality of a work of art to both repel and attract. I am not sure the artist's intention needs to be known in order for the viewer to receive a powerful message. Robert's reaction is proof of this and also proof that the receipt of a powerful message and appreciation are not the same thing.
