David Hlynsky
"David Hlynsky" by Ashley Johnson, Fall 2007, pp. 150-52
Einstein’s theory of relativity suggests that because things move in relation to one another, there can be no fixed perception, only uncertainty. We establish systems that make sense only within their own frames of reference.
David Hlynsky’s latest work wrestles humorously with the human impulse to create meaning. While primarily a photographer, Hlynsky is highly experimental and rejects any restrictive understanding of photography as a craft, the search for the perfect print. Instead, he uses the medium to freely express himself, and thus his work differs subtly from orthodox photography.
Hlynsky’s exhibition “The Fit: Glimpsing Relativity” consists of images linked by common elements such as venetian blinds, which set the stage for a play of light and shade. The blinds hark back to film noir and conjure Sam Spade’s office and curling cigarette smoke. In Hlynsky’s compositions, formal design and playful innovation conspire to give meaning to combinations of disparate objects. Here, the word “fit” could refer to a puzzle, or to the artist’s fit of frustration as he struggles to make sense of what is before him. The works exist at the brink of insanity, at once comically incongruous and tragically serious.
In one work, a bust of Einstein rubs shoulders with a huge sprouting potato while venetian blinds cast their linear shadows over everything. The potato is lit by a strange spotlight created from a mirror. The image is a straight shot, not a collaged assembly, and it poses the exhibition’s central question: how do you map the growth of a potato; how can we make sense of life and nature? Einstein’s attempt to explain the universe falls short in the presence of nature’s mystery.
Like an experimental youngster, Hlynsky sets up bizarre arrangements of everyday objects. Storm (Katrina) is an image of two houses that appear to be suspended in mid-air. It’s actually a dollhouse floating in an aquarium that contains a mirror. The image’s stormy visual texture is the result of air being blown into the water and the addition of snow. Then the image is inverted and presented for viewing.
The exhibition’s exquisite humour emerges in diagrammatic works that use IKEA as a symbol of our culture. Ironic works titled Fabrication and Circular Instructions tease the viewer with maps of intent that are totally meaningless. Hlynsky has photographed crumpled paper and then scanned onto the image a variety of IKEA diagrams. These are subsequently arranged to suggest a pattern of instruction using a graphic directional lexicon. He adds elements like screws, numbers and even a false coffee-cup stain to enhance the illusion.
Nature and man are in constant dialogue here. Hlynsky delights in the vagaries of life, and yet the work is full of concern for the future.
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