Image
1: Gold Towers made from Jenga Blocks
The OBA Library is a library which holds a number of
architectural models on the first floor. One of them is pictured above, in
Image 1; these two, near-identical models sit side-by-side, but the conceptual
implications that may have been behind these seemingly simple towers are varied
and intriguing. These two towers were
both constructed out of Jenga blocks and have been colored gold. The leftmost
structure portrays a solid gold tower with no gaps or holes. The right, on the
other hand, has fewer blocks, and foliage has grown in the spaces. With a
cursory glance, one might believe that the two towers are nothing more than
interesting Jenga constructs. However, both models—through their composition
and appealing aesthetics—introduce different arguments and give insight
regarding the true enemies the “modern man” faces.
Looking at Image 1, the use of
individual Jenga blocks to create one continuous form is, in itself, an
intriguing dichotomy. A Jenga block plays multiple roles –it is an integral
piece in a large sized tower and yet, its purpose is to be removed without
destabilizing the structural integrity of the tower. However, in an attempt to
create a unified whole, this artist has disrupted the nature of the Jenga
piece; by gluing the pieces together, the artist has removed the individuality
of each block and destroyed part of the Jenga block’s function. As I stared at
these golden towers, I was struck by how perfect they seemed; how even if there
might have unpleasing globs of glue or stretched, marred visages of the Jenga
blocks, none of that was noticeable once the gold varnish was added. These
thoughts, alongside my observations of the glued Jenga blocks, reminded me of
the current state of our society. It is, perhaps, this topic upon which the
artist wished to comment. As I stood there, I couldn’t help but wonder if that
was his message—that, no matter how hard individuals try to escape the monotony
of “how people should act,” more often than not, they become another cog in the
system, creating a working society that restricts the ability to make radical
life changes or become true individuals. In the placement of each immovable
Jenga block, I saw a person who was unable to achieve their life goals and so
was stuck (perhaps not unhappily) where they were. Another aspect of note is
that the artist did not remove the “Jenga” logo from the blocks; in fact, they
stacked them in such a way that the the viewer is forced to see the branding. Despite changing the inherent nature of
the Jenga blocks, the artist chose to keep the material’s original form.
Although the pieces have been spray-painted gold—which helps distinguish the
blocks as something removed from the original game—the material is still undeniably
reminiscent of Jenga blocks. As such, it makes it difficult as a viewer, to
think of them as true building materials instead of repurposed toys. The artist’s
design might have made a stronger statement had they removed the logo from the
blocks so we saw blank material instead of a brand. The logo makes it difficult
for the viewer to separate what they’re seeing from being a ‘golden tower’ and ‘a
gold colored tower made of Jenga blocks’. Moreover, if they had been more inspired
with the building’s form—perhaps by having all of the pieces stacked in the
same direction (instead of the patterned horizontal and then vertical direction
necessary to play the game) or by varying the number of blocks used per row—the
model may have separated itself enough from the official Jenga game to meet
with more success. The artist could have taken many avenues in order to
distance themselves from the idea that this is merely a tower of Jenga blocks,
and that would have made it easier for the viewer to feel as though they were
looking at an actual architectural model. However, despite the number of
changes the artist could have made, one particular aspect of the tower seems to
stand out more than the rest: the top of the structure, where the tower
deviates from the pattern. With such a small change, the tower transcends the
medium as it no longer follows the general format of a Jenga game. For some
viewers (like myself), this area of dissonance is the most interesting part of
the model, as it is the only place where the artist has taken obvious creative license.
We are able to see a personal flair in the work and it reminds us once again that
these aren’t Jenga blocks taken straight out of the box, but a building that
came from someone’s mind. Although the clear rigidity might imply the
inevitability of “becoming a cog in the machine,” this sudden deviation to
freedom could remind the viewer to try;
only once they do so and get away from society’s expectations will they reach
the top of the proverbial ladder and break away from society’s prescribed cookie-cutter
life.
However, if the leftmost tower
invokes the idea of humans working tirelessly for a small chance for freedom,
the right tower argues a very different point; one of inter-connectedness between
man and nature. When viewing this tower, I was first intrigued by the openness the
foliage provided in the structure—the start contrast to the work on the left
drew my attention. While I interpreted the tower on the left as an idea for
social commentary, the one on the right took on a broader notion: one of man
versus nature. It should be noted that, although my believed concept for this
tower differs from the first one, this tower still suffers from many of the
same aspects (see above regarding the obvious logo, the three-columned rows,
the stacking, etc.). Since the Jenga blocks haven’t been sanded and they are
placed in the same horizontal-vertical pattern it, again, makes it difficult
for the viewer to forget that they are merely staring at stacked blocks. This
tower was created in a less structurally sound manner (caused by the removal of
the blocks), and it is this diversion from the official Jenga game which makes
this tower seem more rich in concept. Most noticeable is the addition of plant
life to the building, which introduces the idea of an uncommon interaction between
the organic and inorganic. Perhaps the artist wanted to call attention to the
fact that foliage should be used in building projects, or merely enjoyed the
color contrast of green and gold, but I saw something else when I viewed the
model. The use of plant life is not balanced within the piece. It is used quite
heavily on the bottom and then becomes sparser as one ascends the tower before
finally reaching the top, where there is absolutely no greenery present. While
starting to view from the bottom and working up, I saw a progression of the
interaction of humankind and nature. In the past, the two aspects used to have
a mostly even relationship, but now, entire plant species are going extinct and
plants are sparser than ever before. Although one can guess that the right
tower—because it mimics the left –is supposed to be a building as well, it
becomes something much more conceptual due to the gaps of space. However, through
it, one can also be reminded that no matter how much man can try to bend the
environment to his will, nature will always take back what rightfully belongs
to it. In some sense, this tower represents the beginnings of nature’s
recolonization of the land; the Jenga blocks outnumber the plants, but the
greenery begins from the inside (the most central and in some cases vulnerable
area of a building). Nature has taken over the core of the building, where the
true power lies. Interestingly enough, the top—which was the most fascinating
part of the left tower—now seems dull in comparison to the other conceptual
ideas being introduced by this conversation between man and nature. It seems as
though the model (man) is trying to assert its dominance as a building even as
the plants (nature) take control of its innards.
One last thing that needs be addressed is that fact that the
two towers, with their differing core arguments, were consciously placed
side-by-side. They both seem to contain
separate ideas, even if they do follow a similar color and structural vision. One
might wonder what the artist was trying to convey when he positioned them like
this. The idea that stuck with me, even after leaving the OBA Library, was that
these are two iterations of the same building at different points in time, with
the tower to the right being the future building of the work on the left. If
that is the case, it would make a very poignant statement about what humankind
views as important. In the present day (which the left tower, with the
perceived social commentary, can be thought to represent) everyone is so
focused on comparing themselves to other people and making sure that they are
the ones on top. However, in the future (which the picture on the right would represent
for the purposes of this thought exercise), when the world is forced to start
over, it won’t matter who had the highest paying job or who lived in the most
expensive house. What will matter will be survival, and being able to live in a
world where humankind is no longer the top of the pyramid. In this manner, the
two towers are a warning to humankind: rather than constantly striving to be
the best while ignoring the other elements of the world we share life with
(i.e. nature), we need to find a way to coexist, because at the end of it all,
we won’t be in charge.
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