Video by Hal Grotevant (0:21)
Video by Hal Grotevant (0:25)
We all know what it means to "look through" someone. Perhaps it's a stranger on a bus or a plane, or perhaps it's a homeless person asking for help, or perhaps it's just a random person we pass on the street. We do know they are there (evidence: we don't bump into them), but we don't regard them in their full humanity. It happens all the time -- and increasingly so these days as people are glued to their phones while walking.
But sometimes the universe sends me a signal about what would happen if I "saw" someone rather than "looked through" them.
That signal came my way on my recent trip to the beautiful campus of the University of Minnesota. In the second week of my visit, I was mostly isolating in my hotel room (COVID) -- but I was feeling well enough to go out for long, solitary walks. Since I left there 15 years ago, the campus has become dotted with fascinating pieces of public art. [for details, visit https://www.pa25.org/ ]
The piece that engaged me the most was a pair of sculptures, "Spannungsfeld," by the contemporary German sculptor (b. 1970), Julian Voss-Andreae. It is positioned in a little garden next to the Physics and Nanotechnology Building. I found myself walking around and around the sculptures, studying them from varying angles, fully engrossed in what I experienced. I came back a second day for more.
Here is a description of the sculptures, in the artist's words:
“Spannungsfeld” consists of two 10′ (3 m) tall figures in a basic kneeling pose, a male and a female, facing each other. The two figures represent nature’s omnipresent pairs of opposites. These dualities are a fundamental facet of nature and are found in Western science as well as in Eastern traditions. They are critical to the emergence of new levels of meaning in science, and, in the case of the two human genders, critical to the emergence of life. Like the positive and negative electric charge in physics or the yin-yang in Chinese philosophy, neither woman nor man can exist without the other."
I read this description after returning home and googling. But my personal take on the piece when I saw it was rather different.
At the top of this post are very brief videos I took of the two sculptures, starting with the view showing them to be almost transparent, and ending with the 3-dimensional fullness of their representation.
Rather than focus on the tension between male and female / yin and yang that the sculptor envisioned, I thought instead about what it means to "look through" someone rather than "see" them. You can "look right through" someone and pretend they're not even there --- but you will not stumble over them, because you do indeed perceive that they are there. But the deeper meaning of "to see someone" implies pausing long enough and empathically enough to understand them at some level --- perhaps in the sense of "getting them."
I was reminded of the Beatles song from Rubber Soul, "I'm Looking Through You." (lyrics by Paul McCartney, 1965)
"I'm looking through you,
Where did you go?
I thought I knew you,
What did I know?"
Such evocative words.
I thank sculptor Voss-Andreae for challenging me to see others more deeply. It has made me conscious of how easy it is to look through people as I go about daily life. Pausing to see others allows me to pause to see inside myself as well. Since exploring these sculptures, I've initiated some surprisingly pleasant and engaging conversations with clerks and customers in various local shops. I love seeing people in 3-D; and, in turn, being seen.
On a recent visit to Tanglewood, an elderly gentleman 3 rows in front of me slumped in his seat, unconscious, about 15 minutes before the performance was to begin. His family members shouted for help, and the EMTs descended promptly. He gradually regained consciousness, and after a few moments and with their assistance, he was able to walk to the aisle and be helped into a wheelchair.
At the intermission, I got up to stretch my legs and noticed the paramedic who helped him standing near the entryway. I could have just "looked right through him" and gone on. But instead, I went over to thank him for his swift, empathic, and calm response to the emergency. He was very appreciative. I inquired after the gentleman, and he said he had been taken to a local emergency room and would likely be fine. We got into an extended conversation about the hazards of dehydration on summer days in hot venues. I introduced him to my friend Chris, who was my college roommate decades ago --- and we then got into a lengthy conversation about the value of long-term friendships. We went on talking until we were called back to our seats, but I thought about Spannungsfeld in the context of this interaction. How rewarding it was to see him rather than look through him. He said he really appreciated our conversation as well. I've never regretted stretching just that little bit to really see someone else.
Feel free to share your stories about “looking through” vs. “seeing.”
To view a 3 minute professional video of the sculptures, click here:
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Here is some further detail about the sculptures, in the words of the artist:
"My design for a sculptural installation for the University of Minnesota’s new Physics and Nanotechnology Building is inspired by a view of the human body through the lens of quantum physics.
The German title of the installation (literally “tension field”) originated in physics but is used in contemporary German almost exclusively in a metaphorical sense, implying a dynamic tension, often between polar opposites, that permeates everything in its vicinity.
Inspired by quantum physics, I developed an approach that transforms the human figure into a large number of vertically arranged, parallel steel slices with constant spacing. This style creates the impression of a three-dimensional topological map, evoking the fundamental scientific act of measuring the world. The visual effect this style produces is striking and echoes quantum physics’ paradoxical nature and its critical dependence on the observer’s point of view: On first glance appearing to consist of solid steel, the sculptures virtually disappear as the viewer moves past them, enticing the audience to interact playfully with these works. Conceptually, it is the very act of analysis through dissection that reveals the interconnectedness of the figures: Both sets of slices comprising the figures fall on the exact same planes and therefore appear as a continuation of each other and as manifestations of the same underlying ‘field’. As quantum physics suggests, and Eastern traditions have stressed for centuries, the world is fundamentally one, and everything and everybody we see is but a manifestation of an underlying wholeness. Ironically, it was the separation of object and subject that eventually forced us, through the advent of quantum physics, to see that nature, in its very essence, is indivisible." source: https://www.pa25.org/
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This made me think about the recent experience of several years when I became a caregiver for my husband, who recently died. One of the things I noted with great sadness as his condition progressed, was how easy it was for people to simply ignore him, seated in a wheelchair beside me and talk just to me.
It made me so indignant on his behalf! He was there, he was cogent and listening. It might have been difficult for him to pull words to the surface, but he was definitely "in there," understanding every word that was said. I became adept at focusing on him to give him time to reply to the acquaintances and professionals who were instead expecting ME to answer their questions--quickly. This was a person who had led an active and productive life as a medical professional, as a manager, as an active volunteer in his community, as a partner, as a father and grandfather. Talking "about" him rather than "to" him diminished all that he had been, all that he still WAS, and made him an object (of pity, which he did not want) rather than as a living, breathing, human being with feelings!
Hal, the sculptures & your writing, evoke a range of feelings & thoughts not easily expressed. This is likely why the images are so powerful. Being here in India, where I do not speak the language of my students or the masses of people on the streets I travel on or in the stores I've frequented, I experience a kind of not being seen...like a vaper in the crowd. Strangely, it does not bother me, I'm an observer of my - and the - human experience. Equally true, is how effortlessly I can view the room of 72 young women before me as a crowd I "look through" as I painstakeingly make my "point" in a lecture. The imagery calls to me, "Am I looking through them as a collective, and missing each individual soul?" Then the opportunity arises to seek to "see" each one as uniguely themselves - and to honor that I am, too. Thanks, Hal.