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REVIEW
Humanized Geometry
Despite their inorganic forms, Chris Gander's architectural structures recall human vulnerability and impermanence.

BY KATE BONANSINGA
243-2122 EXT. 313


Recent sculpture by Chris Gander
Laura Russo Gallery/
805 NW 21st Ave., 226-2754
Ends June 27

Initially, industrial material and a formal, sculptural presence seem to define the work of Portland sculptor Chris Gander, just as they define the proportionately stacked steel rectangles of the late Donald Judd, a well-known minimalist who came to prominence in the 1960s. Both artists capitalize on the visual impact of the repetition of simple forms and volumes.

But after a few minutes, Gander's welded sculptures seem vulnerable and precarious rather than calculated.

The three semi-circles in Resist lean against each another at 45-degree angles, as if they're toppling over. Schism looks like a mini-ziggurat that has been sliced down the middle, leaving the right side forward, the left side backward and a rectangular divider wedged in between. Tend, an 8-inch-high study made of wood, looks like an upside-down staircase about to tumble off of the wall on which it's mounted. Scheme consists of five small patinaed steel squares; each rests on the inner edge of the square below it, creating a short, shallow, nonfunctional staircase depending on the wall for support. The repeated units appear to be on the verge of either connecting or disconnecting, attempting to stabilize or to secure independence.

Because growth is more characteristic of the individual human experience than of geometry or architecture, the illusion of imminent change lends a human quality to Gander's architectonic forms. Growth, union and reproduction begin with the activity of human cells, the very basis of our physical beings. In mitosis, the indirect division of cells, one thing becomes two and the cells multiply by dividing. In its opposite, zygosis, two cells become one, a concept paralleled by partnership and conception. Gander's Union and Between both consist of two short sets of stairs that are connected in some way. Are they reproducing or separating? Solidifying or severing from one another?

The staircase is a recurring motif, which reflects not only Gander's formal interest in sequential units but also his commitment to periodic re-evaluations of his art and his life. He considers the top of a staircase to be a metaphorical point of uncertainty and reassessment that can be either a dead end or a new beginning.

Other artists have related the cool concerns of geometric proportion to the human body. In the late 15th century, Leonardo da Vinci developed his now famous Vitruvian Man, where he demonstrated the human proportions as determined by the Roman architect Vitruvius. Instead of imposing geometry on the human form as da Vinci did, Gander brings humanity to geometry. He invests in this Platonic desire by imbuing architectonic forms with warmth and fallibility, which become clear only after the initial impact of their simplicity and presence.

Originally published: Willamette Week - June 24, 1998