While in Ottawa on Easter weekend, Rachelle and I visited the National Arts Gallery and saw Work No. 202: Half the air in a given space. This Martin Creed installation gives form to air, I think. Creed measured the volume of oxygen in a large space, and then captured half of it, filling the room with almost 20,000 black balloons. In short, he created a contained environment jammed full of oppressively present balloons and invited people to wander through. It sounded like a fun thing to experience– like going to a Bouncy Castle– and we waited in line with about 15 excited teens as if it was a ride at the Ex.
As we were waiting, two people inside the exhibit started to pound desperately on the wall. The security guards manning the installation jumped into action and opened the door, and amidst a spill of balloons a guy and girl emerged, each one in a panic, shaking and pawing at themselves as if covered in worms.
Rachelle looked over at me, “You’re going to freak-out, aren’t you?”
“No,” I said quietly.
“It says right there on the wall that people with claustrophobia shouldn’t go in. You can’t see at all in there. It’s nothing but black balloons, and if you’re prone to anxiety, it might not be the best experience for you.”
“I’m not prone to anxiety,” I whispered.
“Pickle,” Rachelle answered, “you have sweat on your upper lip and your left eye is twitching, just like when you have a good hand in cards. Are you sure you want to go in?”
I went in, dissolving into the balloons.
The acoustics were muffled and you really couldn’t see anything but the latex exterior of the black balloons. Dislocating rather than threatening, it was still an uncomfortable feeling. I moved slowly about fanning the balloons away as best I could, but they immediately reconstituted around me as if trying to attach and feed–an assembly of jellyfish clustering. It was disorienting and as I inched along the perimeter the room became denser and hotter, the air feeling remote and less accessible. I had no idea how to get out or how large the room was and I was starting to feel a little anxious, and then I heard somebody softly crying. I thought it might be part of the exhibit, but I wasn’t sure.
“Is somebody crying?” I asked.
“I’m fine, “ a woman said, “sorry.”
I shuffled along the wall toward the voice, eventually coming into contact with somebody slumped to the floor.
“Do you need any help?”
“No,” she answered, “I’m okay, thanks. I’m not panicked or anything, just a little emotional. My mother died recently and whenever I was feeling lost, she was always there to help guide me, you know? It’s a silly thing, but this just brought her right back to me. I’m really fine and sorry for the little scene.”
And then I heard her get up and move off into the balloons.
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One response to “Martin Creed’s Work No. 202 at the National Art Gallery in Ottawa”
I had my first panic attack today in martin creeds ballon room ” half the air etc…” at the Hayward in London. It was not half the air. There was about 10% air left in that room. I struggled to hang on to my 5 year old daughter for 20 minutes or so before we burst out of the emergency exit onto a dead-end external concrete balcony of the South Bank. I’m not sure if this was the intention of the exhibit. If it was, I hated it. I thin however that more balloons have been added to that room and what probably started out as something beautiful, for me turned into a nightmare.