These parallels form relationships amongst the absurd ways in which capitalist structures manage our way of being, from all sides, in a kind of metonymy of our relationship to production and consumption extended to all the body\u2019s potential, and the planet\u2019s. Both are harshly exploited, creating a portrait of reduced humanity wherein every person is chained to specific gestures and spaces. On the American side, the bodies are noticeably isolated by their workplace, whereas in other countries, bodies are embedded within a vast organization. Mika Rottenberg composes her films so as to reveal connections between the two, since the places and rhythms of each gesture are interdependent, even if they occur on opposite sides of the planet. There is often a childlike imagination at work in the homemade, pieced together nature of her installations, but also in the suspension of disbelief, for example when a Chinese worker\u2019s feet walk \u201cacross\u201d the planet and arrive in a typical American office. The absurdity of the effect becomes secondary through a construction (similar to films by M\u00e9li\u00e9s or Jean-Christophe Averty) that is transparent about the mechanisms and settings at work, without decreasing the fiction\u2019s potency. Although the images are real in part, the way the shots are orchestrated and the surrealism surrounding certain scenes shift the entire work into another register. There is no dialogue, just the occasional word or two mentioned, like \u201cI see it\u201d, underscoring the visuality at play. And though it is present in some scenes, the documentary aspect is diminished by the fact that no one ever knows where the images are shot. Specific situations are used as archetypes of social states, and the titles of the pieces, like Tropical Breeze<\/em> (2004), Dough<\/em> (2005-2006), Cheese<\/em> (2008), Squeeze<\/em>\u00a0(2010), Sneeze<\/em> (2012), Nonoseknows<\/em> (2015), similarly distance us from an overly sociological reading of the work. Instead, the titles name key elements, actions or objects and direct our attention toward the possibilities of matter and body to create organizations of their own, ones with a seemingly narrow notion of humanity.<\/p>\n \u00a9 Mika Rottenberg, Nonoseknows (2015). Courtesy of Andrea Rosen Gallery, New York<\/p><\/div>\n In Nonoseknows<\/em> as in Squeeze<\/em>, Mika Rottenberg travelled to shoot on location. In China she was interested in the cultured pearl industry. Although she starts with images shot directly in a factory, in collaboration with the workers there, she soon borrows from their work gestures in order to transpose them to more surreal ground. With masterful editing, she pushes the industrial production line to a dreamlike extreme, forging a link between the conditions for economic exploitation and American middle class achievement, as represented by the personal office with a door that can be closed. From one location to the other, from one woman to another, Mika Rottenberg describes the miserable social conditions that atrophy mind and body: nobody is given any space for dialogue during work hours. The editing uses cause and effect to make these heterogeneous elements hold together and lend credibility to processes that are clearly absurd. The body is an ecosystem that is an integrated part of the production line. Stretching, sweat, nails, hair, yoga exercises\u2026 everything transforms into a sad and depressing reflection of the globalized world. But there is also humor, triggered by the often-comical nature of the actions and their repetition, the liveliness of the process, and the hand-made aspect of the sets. Noses stretch or sneeze out rabbits and the surreal atmosphere interferes with the day-to-day of a Chinese factory worker. Although there is criticism of how capitalism affects our lives, there is also visual generosity. The body is a territory in constant transformation, mostly invisible on a daily scale, yet in many ways resisting the paralytic tendency of its environment. The artist explores these unconscious pathways using the most unexpected means, following them into a world of visibility.<\/p>\n In her vast studio, Mika Rottenberg builds doors with giant holes, bits of tunnel and sculptural d\u00e9cors that draw the eye into a perceptual, physical experience. Echoing the work by El Lissitzky in the 1920s, the spatial configuration in her pieces is anchored to real physical space and challenges the rigorous construction inherited from perspective. Rules are reversed: a horizontal production line is made vertical, there are several simultaneous vanishing points and the installation seems to have no central organization or hierarchy. The viewer\u2019s attention is constantly redirected by a dropped ceiling, the whirr of an air conditioning unit or the backside of another set that disturbs our sense of fiction. This physical and mental occupation of space elicits other modes of experience, accentuated by our loss of stable references and a defined horizon. The exhibition in Palais de Tokyo (Paris) in 2016 also played on this confusion, creating a labyrinth of pathways between elements with no clues about which way to go, no narrative structure. Like El Lissizky, Mika Rottenberg\u2018s approach is founded on societal reflection that plays with the utopia of transforming the gaze. Our eyes widen so we may see, in secret, what the world has organized itself to conceal. This is particularly strong in Cosmic Generator<\/em> (2017), created for Skulptur Projekte M\u00fcnster, an event that occurs once in a decade and is dedicated to sculptural projects for the public space. Mika Rottenberg chose to work in a residential neighborhood in the suburbs, in an abandoned Chinese store. The visitor must make the effort of going out there in search of the piece, which is only identified on the outside by a tagged storefront and a broken awning that reads \u201cAsianshop Lebensmittel\u201d. Shelves partially stocked with lines of identical products and a counter lit up and decorated with garlands creates an atmosphere somewhere between reality and installation. The back of the store leads to a projection room.<\/p>\n![\"\u00a9](\"https:\/\/www.switchonpaper.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2018\/07\/MR1.png\")
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