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Yona Lee’s In Transit is currently exhibiting at Wellington City Gallery. Photo: Shaun Waugh. All images supplied by Wellington City Gallery.
Yona Lee’s In Transit is currently exhibiting at Wellington City Gallery. Photo: Shaun Waugh. All images supplied by Wellington City Gallery.

SocietyMarch 21, 2019

Final boarding call: Yona Lee’s ‘In Transit’

Yona Lee’s In Transit is currently exhibiting at Wellington City Gallery. Photo: Shaun Waugh. All images supplied by Wellington City Gallery.
Yona Lee’s In Transit is currently exhibiting at Wellington City Gallery. Photo: Shaun Waugh. All images supplied by Wellington City Gallery.

The fifth work in Yona Lee’s In Transit series is currently exhibiting at Wellington’s City Gallery. Megan Dunn writes on the aspirations of the piece and how comfortably it sits in a gallery context.

On a Sunday afternoon I opened my laptop and sat in In Transit, the most ambitious and nimble exhibition on in the country right now. If the Doozers from Fraggle Rock got unlimited access to stainless steel pipes and a really good welder they might have made the current installation at City Gallery Wellington. Two men and one woman walked the wrong way through the turnstile –huh?– turned single file, and made it to the other side of the gallery. Taken aback, they looked up at the maze of stainless steel pipes surrounding the four central pillars of the space, and re-examined their paper fold out as though it was a tube map (it isn’t).

In Transit is built out of pipe dreams. Auckland-based New Zealand-Korean artist Yona Lee has created a scaffolding of pipes and fittings that zig-zag around the pillars of the gallery and out into its liminal spaces, as though responding to an algorithm that might – if you had all the data – make sense.

Yona Lee’s In Transit exhibition. Photo: Shaun Waugh.

An upside-down letterbox protrudes from the ceiling – you’ve not got mail. A lantern sits atop the neck of the far left wall, illuminating nothing. Nearby one red bus button is on a pipe that runs vertically up-up-up, while at the far end of the gallery a stranded bus seat faces the window. And back at the start of the sculpture, a line of six handrails hang on high, way out of reach.

The instructions on the wall read:

  • Walk through the sculpture
  • Press the bus stop button
  • Use the tables and chairs
  • Do not climb the structure
  • Children who wish to use the top bunk must be supervised by an adult.

There’s a bunk bed? Yes, but hold that thought.

Yona Lee’s In Transit. Photo: Shaun Waugh.

In Transit started in 2016 on a residency in Korea when Lee asked herself: what’s the difference between living in Auckland and Seoul? The Metro: the turnstile into the subway station, the barriers, the pole on the train, the handrails, just hold on… so far In Transit has travelled to SeMA Nanji and Alternative Space Loop (both in Seoul, 2016), Auckland’s Te Tuhi Gallery (2017), and Sydney’s Art Gallery of New South Wales (2018). It’s a project designed to shape-shift.

At each venue Lee recalibrates her sculpture to respond to the new architecture, warping its logic. City Gallery Wellington is the fifth version of this project and Lee, who originally trained as a cellist, refers to it as a ‘sonata.’

However, the three parts of this exhibition at City Gallery Wellington aren’t always easy to ‘play’. Sometimes Lee’s sculpture is too subtle, sometimes too revealing. For instance, Lee’s pipes follow the exposed tubes in the ceiling out into the foyer, where four circular tables, and chairs, are connected to more minimalist piping.

Lee has amplified the innate loneliness of this foyer empty as a food court after hours. It’s spare and elegant but without bums on those seats, is there audience interaction? If not, is that a problem?

Yona Lee’s In Transit. Photo credit: Shaun Waugh.

In Transit is at its best when trading in everyday surrealism. Look up: in the middle of the ceiling cavity, attached to a beam, is a dark blue umbrella, extended as though waiting for rain – a lovely moment of Mary Poppins serendipity. A coat hanger hangs off another ceiling pipe like a clue waiting to be found. Another pipe ends in an industrial blue mop: visually it pops. Across venues, the mop is one of Lee’s recurring motifs.

According to Art News New Zealand, “Yona Lee’s work is an invitation to look further into the objects and spaces surrounding us…two of the most common activities of our time – transit and consumption.”

Hence the mop? An ode to the emotional labour of the cleaner, out of sight and mind? Or is the mop just delightfully catchy like the Muppets song riff: mah na mah na. You can go light or deep with In Transit. That’s the point. In Transit plays on expectations of public space and how we perform in it.

Yona Lee’s In Transit. Photo: Shaun Waugh.

Lee, like so many contemporary artists (and cattle-class flyers), burns the fossil fuels at both ends, travelling between one residency and the next, one country and the next. At an airport, we’re controlled not only by customs but by the barriers and even the furnishings. We know where to get up and go, where to sit down and eat. Or just wait.

But what about at a gallery? Is art just a stop to arrive at? Maybe. Yet Lee separates cause and effect. Apparently, the question most visitors ask in galleries is: do you have a phone charger? But no one used the two phone chargers Lee had added to her installation on the afternoon I visited the exhibition. But visitor engagement – that buzzword that won’t buzz out of the public gallery sector– was high on the agenda.

At 1.27pm a little girl skipped in and un-velcroed her sneakers followed by her mum pushing a baby in a buggy. The girl climbed the bunk. “Mum, look how high I am!” Above the bunk, a pale turquoise shower curtain hung in space, as though also saying, “Look how high I am!”

The girl then rushed over to try and push the bus button.

“Reach, reach, reach!” her mother called. “Honk!” Next, the child took the bus seat, but couldn’t sit still, so back to the bunk.

A woman in her 20s, bum bag slung over shoulder, ambled in and pressed the bus button too. She and her friend shrugged, then sat in the bus seat. Lee has exposed the gallery windows that are usually covered, light floods the space.

Another beautiful young woman twisted the circular makeup mirror in the sculpture and repositioned her hair. Two boys climbed through the structure as though on a jungle gym, then sat on their bums and span circles on the floor. The wide-open space made the boys giddy. Kids love In Transit; they are still learning the rules of engagement.

“Honk!” the bus button. Again.

The baby in the buggy woke up and made a preverbal sound cute as fuck.

A guy with a canon camera was stumped by the turnstile, while another gentleman strolled along, swinging his bright red umbrella. He posed for his partner so that the raggedy mop in the installation crowned his bald head for a moment; she took a photograph. Snap.

We’re all here In Transit. What are you going to make of it? This is your final boarding call.

Yona Lee’s In Transit is at City Gallery in Wellington until Sunday 24 March.

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SocietyMarch 21, 2019

Can we fill the void left by Wellington Central Library?

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The sudden closure of Wellington’s Central Library was a shock to residents in the capital. Gem Wilder reflects on her love for the library and her hopes for its future.

I received the news via the Wellington City Council twitter account, posted at 2:50pm on Tuesday afternoon: Wellington’s Central Library building will be closed from 8.30pm Tuesday 19 March 2019 until further notice.

It’s been an awful week for New Zealanders, so it’s perhaps no surprise that heightened emotions meant this news left many Wellingtonians feeling bereft. Libraries are, after all, community hubs.

Following tweets stated that the decision to close was made “after receiving advice from engineers that the building has structural vulnerabilities…” We should have perhaps seen this coming, with the nearby Old Town Hall currently in the midst of a long term strengthening project, and more recently, the demolition of the section of the building that spanned the space between the Central Library and the Council buildings, above the entrance to Civic Square. It seems inevitable, now, that the library would follow suit.

The Central Library has recently become my local, and my daughter and I had developed a routine of going there after I picked her up from school on a Friday afternoon. We’d go straight to the children’s section, where she would pick out a selection of comics and graphic novels, and I’d set her up on one of the big cosy armchairs to begin reading them while I wandered the shelves, picking out my own selections. We would always choose more books than it is comfortable to carry, there would be an argument through gritted teeth at the check out machine where she would suddenly decide she wanted just three more books, at least one wouldn’t scan properly and would need to be taken to the help desk to be issued, and eventually, weighted down by our supply of reading material, we’d be on our way.

The Civic Square entrance to Wellington Central Library. Photo: RNZ / Diego Opatowski

These trips always brought us into contact with a wide cross section of the community.

There would be toddlers playing in the kids section while their caregivers read them picture books, or just sat back for a welcome breather in a safe and welcoming space. The desks that lined the enormous stretch of windows along the length of the back wall of the library would be filled with students, studying or being tutored. There would be people reading the paper, senior citizens on their way from the drop-in centre, businesspeople returning books on a quick break from work, people heading to the Citizen’s Advice Bureau, and Clarks cafe upstairs, feeding and caffeinating the hordes.

Sometimes, on our way to the library, my daughter would think about a particular subject she wanted books on, and as soon as we’d arrive she would confidently approach a desk to ask a librarian to help her find her desired books. I’ve always told her that librarians are there to help, and they have always responded enthusiastically to whatever challenges my girl has thrown at them. If she asks for a book about treasure hunts, they’ll lead her to map books and maze books and pirate books, comics, non-fiction, picture books. They cover all the bases and ensure she is satisfied.

Librarians are truly wonderful.

Think about it. Can you imagine the variety of questions a librarian would have to answer on any given work day? They are keepers of knowledge, they know how to access information, and they always seem to find the answers to whatever you’re asking them so damn quickly. It’s magical.

A kids’ craft day at Wellington Central Library, 2014. Photo: Facebook

Once I’d recovered from my own sadness at the news that my Friday afternoon library routine was about to change, my thoughts were with the librarians and staff of Wellington Central Library. If I’m feeling upset about this closure, I can only imagine how stressful and upsetting it must be for them right now. The over 100 library staff were informed of the closure at the same time as the public and the media on Tuesday afternoon. Wellington City Council have said all staff will keep their jobs during this closure, and were seeking to find them alternative spaces for them to work from.

If the Central Library staff want advice on how to cope with the sudden change, they need only look to their fellow library workers up the road in Upper Hutt. The Upper Hutt Central Library was closed in similarly sudden circumstances in February 2018. They set up a pop-up library in a temporary venue which, while welcoming, was not ideal, given that libraries are generally purpose built with very specific needs and requirements. Patrons were delighted when, on March 11, the library threw open its doors once more.

I trust that Wellington City Council will find a temporary venue to operate out of over the period of strengthening the Central Library building. Those of us who have experienced the kind of upheaval and uncertainty the Central Library staff are going through will understand how stressful this time will be for everyone involved.

Be patient with the staff who may be working out of suburban libraries they’ve never set foot in before.

Be patient with council staff relaying information and trying to answer questions when so much is as yet unknown.

Take advantage of the reissuing Wellington Libraries have set up automatically on all books currently issued, and finish that tome you thought you were going to get late fees on.

If you run a space that can be used by community groups or studying students, make sure to spread the word about it.

Now, as much as ever, we need welcoming community spaces, where all walks of life know they will be accepted. I’d love to see Wellingtonians get creative and fill the void left by the loss of the Central Library.

But wait there's more!