Tale of the tape art captivates passersby
It’s a sticky wicket ensnaring many Calgarians in its artful embrace.
The creation of two Montreal artists has transformed a downtown Plus-15 into a three-storey web of packing tape that’s constantly morphing at the whims of both its creators and office workers invited to enter their adhesive lair.
“It’s kind of what beehives do, one thing informs the next — it’s built in a collaboration between ourselves and whoever comes and works with us,” said dancer Peter Trosztmer. “It becomes a community build.” As he spoke, about 15 passersby making their way through the Plus-15 connecting Bankers Hall with the Core are either gawking at the cascading sticky shroud or willingly enmeshing themselves in the work dubbed Boxtape.
Trosztmer and partner-in-art Jeremy Gordaneer join the instant participants in performance art as they dance, bob and weave in the spidery bondage, or attempt to extricate themselves from it.
“You can be inside and experience physicality and everybody else’s physicality who’s in it,” said the dancer, whose sculpture is part of the High Performance Rodeo that runs through Feb. 2.
“Normally, we’d do it in a gallery, so it’s kind of amazing — communication with an environment and a collective consciousness.”
The natural light of the glassedin skyscraper bridge, he says, adds another brilliant, visual dimension.
The pair will use 5,000 metres of tape, employing slightly heavier strands to fortify certain parts.
It’s a concept they’ve unravelled in cities across Canada and parts of Europe since 2011.
Since they began spinning their web Jan. 18, it’s drawn a variety of interpretations from its pedestrian viewers.
“We’ve been told it’s a spider web, connective body tissue and a computer program by a couple of computer programmers,” said Trosztmer.
For him, when unspooling himself from a cocoon of tape, what’s left behind mimics exploring an exoskeleton.
“It’s about challenging perceptions, of what we’re allowed and not allowed to do,” he said.
It’s at that moment their tangled web turns toward building an adhesive seat next to a window, suspended above the Stephen Avenue Walk.
Passersby are then welcomed to get comfortable on the instant furniture.
“Instead of telling people, ‘it’s art, please don’t touch,’ it’s, ‘please come and touch and work with us,’ ” said Trosztmer.
On Saturday, the web will come down, a process that should itself “be a thing of beauty,” said its cocreator.
Instead of telling people, ‘it’s art, please don’t touch,’ it’s, ‘please come and touch and work with us.