Palinopsia from April 23 to May 17, 2024 at The Stamp Gallery | University of Maryland, College Park | Written by Oliver Foley

In a gallery displaying flat works on a wall, the usual action by the engaged viewer is to stop walking and look deeply at the piece of interest. Art on a single plane does not encourage observation from all sides, it even prevents it. This is not the case with free-standing sculptures, like statues, kinetic pieces, or floor-mounted multimedia assemblages. When an artist chooses to add a third dimension to their work, engagement necessitates movement through space to properly observe all elements of the piece. Amongst the pieces currently on view at Stamp Gallery, two works by Jill McCarthy Stauffer promote this kind of movement-based exploration by the viewer in unconventional ways. The works, I remember how the sanderlings go and if everything is connected, are more akin to two-dimensional artworks in their mounting and structure, yet inspire a similar type of spatial exploration as a freestanding sculpture.

Jill McCarthy Stauffer, I remember how the sanderlings go, 2023

The first of these pieces, I remember how the sanderlings go, is a work of analog projection onto a wall above a line of sand. Although the key component of the piece is essentially flat against the wall, motion is essential for its artistic functioning. A large black box on the floor divides a small passageway into two zones: a zone to walk through, and the piece itself. As the viewer passes through the corridor, an ultrasonic sensor detects their movement like a bat detects an insect with echolocation. The detection of movement triggers a series of analog projections. In the same direction as the viewer’s pathway, a small projected bird moves across the sandbar, shifting in color in glitchy lines formed by light projected through dichroic film. As I was first interacting with this piece, I was captured by the sense of experimentation that it prompted, both to seek an understanding of the black box’s mechanism and to see all permutations of its projections. I explored it for a while, moving back and forth through the corridor, standing in place to let it repeatedly trigger, and jumping from one sensor to the other to trigger both bird-directions at once. The playfulness of interactivity in this piece sets it apart from conventional three-dimensional works as an empirically exploratory piece.

Jill McCarthy Stauffer, if everything is connected, 2023

At the end of the bird’s corridor, the viewer finds themselves transported fully to the beach environment of Stauffer’s works. On the wall are five large shells connected by wound cables of wire. Ocean sounds play, immersing the viewer. The shells are illuminated from behind, creating a color-changing glow framing each shell. From afar, the surface of the enlarged reproductions of shells glimmers faintly. Closer inspection reveals gleaming colored bands which criss-cross in and out of the shells, reflecting the light cast from the other shells. The dynamic textures of the carapaces draw in the viewer to observe their intricate variation in coloration and topography. I found myself changing position, crouching, tilting my head, and moving around these pieces to get a better view of their complexities. Despite being wall-mounted, the visual appearance of this piece changes as one moves around them. The light and images reflected in the bands of lustrous film transform and distort as the viewer changes their angle and distance. 

Engagement is often one of the most desirable audience responses an artist could hope for. In my own experience, artworks that cause me to move through a space and explore are often the ones which resonate most in my memory; the more a person’s body is engaged, the stronger the sense-memory of the experience. Through their creative use of electronic interactivity, Stauffer gives the audience an experience they are unlikely to forget.

Palinopsia will be on view at the Stamp Gallery at the University of Maryland, College Park, through May 17, 2024.