A need to structure her emotional experiences inspired Jill Odegaard's strategies.

by LISA LAMBERT
243-2122 ext 313

Pennsylvania artist Jill Odegaard's installation at L&B Viewing Room this month, strategies, ably conveys our need for understandable objects and rules in the mess of our lives. Apart from the two series called Relating, which look like plastic teething donuts tossed on a toddler's blanket (and are just as gripping as some sprog's idea of conversation), the installation's components are both poignant and thought-provoking.

In Location Marks the Spot, blue cones drop from the ceiling, suspended by wire, toward a series of circles below, appearing as if they were suddenly frozen in mid-descent. Some of the cones are perfectly aimed at the circles, closing in on their bull's-eyes. Others are tragically off the mark. A few cones lie forlornly, without any attached wire, next to the circles, as if they hit the spot and bounced off (game over). It's agony to look at the cones poised to miss. There's no way of correcting their aimless fates of failure. But, like grabbing Boardwalk on a Monopoly board, the cones that are perfectly aimed at their targets offer sweet elation and satisfaction. Yes, this crazy world does have one thing doing what it's supposed to do, even if it is the odd ceramic funnel suspended on a string.

Next, Odegaard has hung a series of vellum and graphite works along the wall that are far more subtle than the blue cone bombs behind. In most of the pieces in the series, one sheet of vellum inlaid over another. The top sheet has shapes cut out. The bottom has shapes drawn on it. Thread binds the two sheets together. The object of this game is to line up the shapes between the sheets. The drawings use neutral tones found in home-decor magazines from the early '90s (teal, peach, blue). At first glance they look like an exposition on Odegaard's discovery of basic shapes ("triangle, triangle, square!"), but, really, they offer the same stresses and triumphs as any sport or game. When the cutouts and drawings line up, their soft colors in harmony, everything is satisfyingly perfect and symmetrical. When they don't line up, your mental eye struggles to find the balance. Strangely, in these pieces the dark graphite lines bleed through the vellum, creating an elegant effect. Perhaps they show us that life can be beautiful even when not cleanly executed.

Odegaard has said that strategies was inspired by the dualities
in her life and a need to structure previous emotional experiences.
I understand that need. Most mornings, I feel like I'm trapped in a
spiritual rerun straight out of 12 Monkeys, where I'm confronted with the same emotional battles over and over. Odegaard shows the details and small variations of those never-ending struggles in an easy-to-grasp format, deftly organizing the emotions involved into coherent systems. And, fitting for our times, she never asks or answers why the struggles exist at all.