Ekphrasis on Ekphrasis: Haegue Yang’s Changing From From to From

“The … title drawn from a poem by

… Li-Yuan Chia evokes … 

migration between locations.” NGA

Riotous, 

It fills the room as I enter.

It could be from here but is not. 

I know …

I found it seeking something, 

Something from another where. 

That fragmented facing 

… To abyss

… … between 

… … … Home-now-here 

… … and 

… … … Home-there-then;

To the voids 

That run like veins 

Like fissures in my world. 

Still, I seek,

A weft strong enough to warp 

The forever borders,

… The everywhere borders:

… … The incisions 

Bleeding in our 

… unnamed 

… … unfelt 

… … … unsought 

… … … … Oneness …

Yet, as soon as I see it, 

I know.

That’s what draws me in. 

In photographic forms it speaks, 

In white waves rising 

In repeating surfaces. 

In enfolding panels.

The waves aren’t from here. 

A suggestion maybe

Of Hosukai’s Great Wave?

Japan maybe? …

Haegue Yang.

From Korea 

I don’t know her.

Not from here.

But still a kindred spirit.

I’m in the right place.

Desert, sea, mountain,

Mathematical abstractions,

Circle in complex forms, 

Circle like waves,

Beat on Mother Earth,

Fractal forms erode her serenity,

Fragment her oneness,

Drill deep new chasms.

Blood bursts from great pipes

Disgorging against waves …

They are powerful, the waves, 

Ancient, more lasting perhaps

Than our post-modern pluperfect circles

Two dimensional images

Flow from walls,

Manifest in ball and fur

In gold and red and silver.

A humble broomstick upside down

Vertical in a dalek’s grasp

Which dances with two others

In the middle of the hall. 

From above, her woman’s voice whispers in my ear. 

A meandering AI mimic

Insistent, beyond comprehension.

The guard’s intercom interrupts,

Sound waves crash, 

On visual waves 

On every wall.

From below, a eucalypt branches up, 

Anchoring, familiar, real.

Greyed and circular angelic waves 

Evoke Dante’s journey,

And summon Dore’s portal to Paradise.

Time to leave. 

Drifting from stanza to stanza,

I ghost past the two hundred poles, 

Aboriginal coffins,

Canberra’s lesser known war memorial …

Along the lakeshore, 

Beyond the avenues of cherry blossoms

Beyond the gaily fluttering banners of brotherhood

Another pole memorial, hidden, half forgotten

Recalls waves 

… Waves that circled

… … Waves that swallowed 

… Siev X’s mothers, fathers, children

Pilgrims changing from from to from

Who never stepped ashore …

I take a few more paces, 

A pause, 

… A step closer, 

… … And then pass by the Sidney Nolan

… … … Bleak ochre-scapes 

… … … … Of vastness and violent troopers

… … … … … Of armoured and

… … … … … … Sky-vacant eyes.