‘Mowry Baden’ Sculptures Challenge Our Perceptions

“Mowry Baden: Fickle Periptery” is an Otis Gallery exhibition marking a return visit by a veteran, native Angeleno artist. It proves, among other things, that the word “interactive” applies to more than computer games.

Toward the end of the ‘60s, a group of L.A. artists interested themselves in concentrating less on making objects and more on the viewer’s physical and perceptual responses. The best-remembered result of these experiments was the California Light and Space movement sparked by such figures as Robert Irwin, James Turrell and Doug Wheeler.

Baden, a generational contemporary, dipped from the same pool of ideas but his work took quite a different turn. So did his life. He moved to Victoria, British Columbia, where he’s worked and taught ever since.

Although Baden’s pieces are fun to look at, that’s not really the point. They require physical movement on the part of the viewer. The idea is to really get with it and have an experience that involves tangible feelings. In this way Baden participated in the mega-goal of Cold War art, a baroque impulse to induce actual sensations. That links him to artists as disparate as, say, Bruce Nauman and Chris Burden.

“Seat Belt With Block” provides a clear example. Dating from 1969, it consists of the familiar safety restraint lengthened to about 8 feet. One end is buckled around the waist, as usual, the other tethered to the floor. Participants quickly get the idea that, supported by the belt, they can walk in a circle leaning at a tilt that would normally cause them to fall down. This is quite amusing until you get to a stone block about the height of a normal stair-tread. That’s just enough to tighten the belt so it’s impossible to get more than one foot on the block without tumbling over. This is a bit frustrating.

Objectively viewed there’s quite a lot to be learned here about the physics of tension, gravity and angle. Psychologically there’s an implicit lesson about the relationship between security and pleasure.

“Learning to Walk” from 1976 consists of a straight, narrow wooden pathway edged with reed-slender upright dowels taller than most people. The pedestrian surface is slightly uneven. If you traverse it in a klutzy manner, the dowels sway slightly, rattling together as if irritated. On a second try you attempt a graceful center glide that won’t upset the dowels. It’s an amusing object lesson in deportment.

The most engaging piece is Baden’s recent “Fickle Periptery” of the show’s title. You sit in a rocking chair fitted with a mirror that shows you the ceiling. In between hangs a false ceiling with a large rectangular hole. Suspended on cables, it sways in the same direction as the rocking chair but not necessarily at the same rate. It may go forth as you go back. Once a certain rhythm between the oscillation of chair and false ceiling is achieved, a funny thing happens--the real ceiling looks like it’s moving too.

All of which seems to bear on the universe of cinematic special effects in which we all presently pleasurably wallow for entertainment. There is a significant difference. Baden’s relatively modest demonstrations of perceptual illusion unmask themselves for what they are. We’re offered the chance to understand how it all works. Seriously taken, Baden’s work can be seen as an aesthetic branch of behavioral psychology.

* “Mowry Baden: Fickle Periptery,” Otis College of Art and Design, 9045 Lincoln Blvd.; to March 21, closed Monday and Sunday, (310) 665-6905.