November 23 - January 13th 2023
Galerie Kandlhofer, Vienna
Allen-Golder Carpenter's exhibition Water Memory shows a part of an ongoing body of work called Body Surrogates. The exhibited works represent a surrogate sentinel of the human body, particularly the black male form through which Golder Carpenter deals with questions of male identity and performance of masculinity. Alongside these topics, the artist consistently talks about gender aesthetics, shown explicitly in his work Untitled (Vacuum Seal Bag), which consists of a vacuum-sealed bag containing two tank tops sewn together at the bottom to be worn as a dress, presenting a convertible state also depicted in Carpenter's small series of polaroids. Throughout the exhibition, the artist's Body Surrogates take up space, create a presence and complete and communicate with each other.
Next to You, Next to Me (Curtis Valentine) presents another anecdote to the artist's personal history - an ode to an old mentor of Carpenter, a black teacher the artist was looking up to in their childhood as he was able to make space for like young men, particularly young black men and give them the presence that a lot of other people wouldn't give them. Placed next to the concrete cast Nike Air Max work boots are a pair of dress shoes recreating the artist's memory of young people wanting to gather around their teacher.
Carpenter's work revolves around the personal processing of his family history and memory, which depicts the show's core topic. The work Untitled (Photo Wall) shows, on the one hand, a range of photographs of their brother being taught how to wash various garments (in the methods of the artist’s own fashion practice); on the other hand, photos of their grandfather being interviewed. With this, Carpenter shows a cross-generational perspective while juxtaposing images of surveillance and the context around such images with a man who worked as a government official. History that has impacted their family for the better or the worse. In doing so, they found a way to process and commemorate their family's history and reconnect with them. The photo essay is centered around memory in various forms, e.g., diving into generational and cultural memory as an intangible spiritual material. To place memory in a physical form, Carpenter draws from the oldest visual metaphors for the subconscious and thus water as a recurring element in his show, as a metaphor for memory. Water that holds memory, water that contains history, like the topic of Langston Hughes Negro speaks of rivers, which Carpenter draws inspiration from.
The transcript of Carpenter’s interview with his grandfather also got printed on the reverse of another freestanding, sculptural installation, preserved in inmate inventory bags handed to people before getting incarcerated, each filled with a shredded piece of tanktop mingled with shattered glass. These elements raise questions of identity while one is coming to pieces, falling apart as a person. What do you pick back up and take with you? What do you leave behind - against our will? And are there pieces shattered in you you never get back or can’t put back together?
This theme of something shattered, holding something together against its will, is also embodied by the central installation Body Surrogate 1. The core element of this piece is the artist’s shower cabin from his childhood home, in a shattered state, spreading minuscule fragments of tempered glass across the floor while larger shards are forcefully held together with translucent tape. Once again, it connects with the idea of water as a holder of memory in an almost literal sense, with the artist including a glass of water behind the damaged shower cabin. Interested in the subconscious and dream theory, Carpenter here references a superstition predominantly established in Africa that putting a glass of water under your bed wards off nightmares and thus expands on the symbolism of water used in their work. Water holds memory; it remembers - but what memories do tears hold?
Inside this bag, is a dress, made of two tank tops sewn together at the ends to make a dress, here it is in its flipped up (double shirt) state, making it convertible. I remember once an older male family member reacted negatively when I told him I had worn a dress, but eased up when I told him that it was for a performance, and that part stuck with me most. The idea that any deviation from gender norms was essentially just a performance.,
So I have this dress sealed in this bag, with an opening cut so it can be worn over the head as an apron or on the shoulder like a shoulder bag
The idea being how can I mantle this idea, this part of myself, how can I “wear this dress” without actually wearing it, to express this aspect of the self in a more covert way was needed, as It’s still not completely safe to openly display a gender queer identity.
The small simulated evidence bag in the lower corner contains a shattered glass bottle, the bottle was filled with tea, wrapped in the dress and smashed, released the tea and dying the shirt as a result.
When glass breaks, you have to accept that you won’t find every piece.
Im very concerned with the idea of what happens when someone comes to pieces, who we are when we fall apart, and what it means to pick up those pieces, those pieces of your self. Im very interested also, in that discretion, that choice, of what parts of ourselves we choose to pick back up and take with us, and what we choose to leave of ourselves behind.
What does it mean to hold yourself together? When no one knows you’re falling apart.
This piece is probably the most literal visual representation of this idea of “holding yourself together”, its a glass door thats been shattered and taped together in place. I think destruction can be a beautiful thing, it can make room for growth, for something new to come out of the cracks. And something I find especially beautiful about tempered glass (the kind this door is made from) after it’s been shattered is that it has these dull edges, the small pieces it breaks into are safe enough to handle and roll in your hands. When you think of broken glass, you think of a hazard, but with tempered glass when you get up close you realize it’s not so much a hazard at all, it’s quite pretty. Like glass people are very fragile, I’m very fragile. The work itself is very delicate, the wood pole holding up the ski mask, is tied together with shredded tank tops (a motif that I use a motif for masculinity) a rebar rod, the pole that is made of three sections has to be balanced properly or it will topple.
Water Memory Photo Essay
“Tee Shirt purchased from Allen’s childhood corner store and hand dyed at home with brisk iced tea from the same store of purchase using Allen’s favorite flavors. The work is about making things with what’s directly within reach and readily available. Featuring Allen’s poetry, these tanks are an extension of Allen’s art practice.”
Text by Sophia Boli of Retail Pharmacy
These “tea” shirts are some of my most popular pieces as a designer, I consider true hood artisanship. The idea is that if you had a few dollars and a bucket you can do something beautiful, the following photo series documents me going on a walk with my older brother, to one of my childhood corner stores, getting some tea, and a shirt, going home and dying it with him.
While wearing one of the tea shirts, printed with our late grammas portrait.