Halfway. Handful. Calorie. Pound. Euro. Kilometer. Moment. Cup. Syllable. Gram.
A comprehensive list of units of measurement could never end, prattling on to include all kinds of rulers ranging from the scientific and precise to the subjective and situational. Alternatively, a list of rulers might be an infinite roll-call of political figures and heads of government from around the world and throughout history.
The open call by Seminole Heights gallery Coco Hunday, invited artists to submit their own measuring devices with “mechanical, political, or poetic implications,” and the result is RULERS, which runs through June 8. Works of art are priced for $100 or less and all proceeds are donated to Planned Parenthood and the ACLU. All entries were accepted, and more than 100 artists submitted works, including a 2-and-a-half-year-old and 14-year-old along with established and emerging artists from around the world. Organized by Sue Havens and Jason Lazarus, the idea developed from a shared love of the handmade “measuring tapes” as seen around artists’ studios, pertinent to each artist’s particular unit of measurement. This egalitarian show is comprised of the literal and conceptual, serious and witty, strange and familiar.
Several artists submitted works in the form of literal twelve-inch rulers. One example, J. Noland’s "Disciplinary Object," subtracts the typical tick-marks of measurement on the stick of wood, instead inscribed with Ingraham v. Wright, a Supreme Court case from Florida in 1977 that ruled corporal punishment could be allowed in public schools and does not violate the Eighth Amendment, which protects against cruel and unusual punishment. Noland sharply elucidates this ruling in his work: the intended and innocent function of a ruler in a classroom setting is overruled by the threat of severe paddling in public schools.
I would assume this decision had been overturned at some point over the last 40 years, but it turns out that corporal punishment is still legal in public schools in 19 states and legal in private schools in 48 states. According to the latest government survey, more than 106,000 students were subjected to being hit, slapped, or spanked in schools during the 2013-2014 academic year, with black students, boys, and disabled students punished at greater rates than their peers. The cynical pessimist in me is disappointed, but not surprised — add it to the list of things I didn’t think I needed to think about. While Noland’s ruler measures 12 imagined inches, it doesn’t have the capacity to calculate the greater consequences of what its title effects.
Other works are more abstract in their response. One, titled "192 Hours" by Helmut Smit, is made up of 10 candles varying in shape, size, and, presumably, scent. They sit clustered together on the floor in a corner like some sort of shrine. Divided by 24, the title can be translated into eight days, both equal to the length of time that RULERS is open. Here, Smit puts forth the unit of candles as a form of measurement that would equate to 192 hours if one is burned after another and not collectively at once. In addition to their use in meditation or romance, candles are also symbolic of loss and memory, seen en masse with flowers and cards at sites of devastation or tragedy.
Another conceptual work is "How to Measure Your IQ in 2019 CE" by Anthony Wong Palms, a book made up of horizontal strips of books glued together so that the collective binding reads “The Definitive IQ Ruler” in varying sizes, colors, and fonts. This amalgamated spine with all its dissimilar letters reminds me of how a serial killer on a crime show would leave clues in the form of magazine letters cut out and arranged to spell a message. The actual volume would be impossible to read cohesively, as the slivers would produce their own lines of text out of sync and result in an exquisite corpse of literature.
Perhaps this selected corpus of words is Palms’ unit of measurement, one that aligns with a famous Emerson quote: “If we encounter a man of rare intellect, we should ask him what books he reads.” We could assume Palms has chosen the strips from books that are of great importance to him. just as we could assume these books are irrelevant or unknown. The fragmented book could be an analogy for the ever-increasing speed of information spread on social media — and how its users tend to consume only snippets of a story due to the rapid refreshing of the news cycle. Ultimately, viewers are left to judge Palms’ book by its cover.
RULERS also, of course, features several works that deal directly with today’s state of political affairs: Jim Zimple’s "Bigly-Yuge" shows a small, golden Trump bust on a slider scale that places him between the measurement of “BIGLY” and “YUGE” — just a couple of the eloquent words to be uttered from the seat in the Oval Office — as the bust rests at point zero. Matthew Kerkhof’s "Imperial Ruler" wraps bank rolls of coins in American flag stickers, pointing out how America is inextricably intertwined with capitalism, greed, and debt. The cyanotype, or photographic blueprint, "Untitled (Staring Contest)" by Jon Notwick presents the moment when Trump tried to see the 2017 solar eclipse by looking at the sun directly — a viral image that conjured up headlines like “Not Too Bright” and other memes.
No matter how you look at it, RULERS is an inherently political show due to the organizations it benefits and their constant struggle against the current administration. At the opening on June 1, more than $1,500 was raised for Planned Parenthood and the ACLU. This is an important show for two urgent and enduring causes; see for yourself how things measure up.
Stay in the know about Tampa Bay arts, culture, music, food, news and more — subscribe to our newsletters.
This article appears in May 30 – Jun 6, 2019.