FLOW: THE LANDSCAPE OF MIGRATION
Sculpture Magazine, November 2008, page 72
By Sarah Tanguy

Greater Reston Arts Center

Accumulate, grow, and change—this simple exhortation to Foon Sham’s installation goes to the heart and soul of the artist’s vision. The idea behind Flow was to coax a terrain of mountains and lowlands by collaborating with visitors over the course of the exhibition. The back-and-forth activity was to suggest gift giving and the contribution of countless immigrants to his adopted country. The mountains—five large-scale cones made from plastic foam, wood, terraced cups of water, paraffin, and grass—were the anchor, and corresponded to metal, wood, water, fire, and earth, the five essential elements of his native Chinese culture. Each provided a different solution to a pivotal question in his practice: the translation of organic process through geometric means. Resting on a red-orange concrete floor that itself conjured clay, the cones referenced their natural namesake, while invoking Paul Cezanne’s famous edict about reductive shapes.

The lowlands evolved from clear plastic cups and their contents of wooden blocks, blue colored water, nails, tea candles, and grass. Visitors of all ages were encouraged to take the cups from the windowsills and make their own arrangements on the floor and on the cones. Some chose to use the cups as provided, and others opted for emptied cups or just the materials. Once a week, Sham came to the gallery to make his own mark on the installation. On the last day, a couple of young girlfriends were engrossed in experimentation…when did stacking achieve exquisite balance and when did it lead to chaos? The integrity of the original conceit had yielded to the exhilirating unpredictability of life. Complex pathways now connected the cones, floor, and even part of the walls. Just as staggering was the interplay of materials. Nails and grass partnered with water-filled cups in the water cone. Wooden blocks were wedged into the nail cone, where nails evoked a garlanded Christmas tree from certain vantages, and from another, they spelled out “I love Joe.” This constant negotiation between artist and visitors perfectly captured the cooperation needed for migration.

Flow retooled aspects of Sham’s working method in surprising ways. Throughout his protean career, meticulous planning and constant adjustment have been his guides. Although this installation clearly involved problem solving, it reflects just as importantly his journey of liberation and years of teaching. Previously, the public had been invited to enter or walk through some of his openwork wooden constructions. In the case of the outdoor 20-20-3 Joint, people spontaneously carved their names and dates on its stacked wooden blocks, acts that Sham accepted as a sign of success rather than vandalism. In Sea of Hope, viewers were invited to add their own commemorative messages to the installation honoring his deceased mother —a slender wooden vessel and a fleet of smaller white paper boats filled with tiny cones of tealeaves. Flow, however, marked the first time that he ceded artistic control to anonymous collaborators and in turn, engaged their unforeseen interventions.

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