The Monsters We Sometimes Become
Gallery at the Manship
Baton Rouge
Through Aug. 14
Black posters with blue graffiti style letters pepper Government Street, shop windows and social media. “The Monsters We Sometimes Become” is on display at the Manship Theater. What is it?
The immersive art exhibit, curated by Ellemnop, features art by Nathaniel A.J. Landry paired with original musical scores by Monoblack. In the lofted gallery area of the Manship Theater, people can walk freely through the exhibit, listening to the music at their own pace on their phones via Soundcloud.
The electronic music, original scores by Monoblack, feel interconnected, easy to flow from one to another as if they’re all part of the same action movie. Landry’s collage pieces are portraits that explore the darker side of human nature such as drowning the depths of rage or the eternal despair that swallows hope.
At the end, you make a choice, towards light or darkness, at the opening event for the exhibit, people couldn’t go back and access the other. In the gallery as it stands now, one can take their time and look/listen to both or either.
With this exhibit, the gallery is concentrated on the walls on the perimeter. Unlike other exhibits that have been in the space, there isn’t much in the center of the room. At a reception with a lot of people, this probably helps with flow, but on an average day, one is likely to be alone in the gallery, hugging the wall as they make their way through the guided journey.
If it sounds grim, it kinda is. The music encourages people not just to look at each piece but to linger. Since each piece is a portrait – even if abstract – it feels like looking deep into someone’s soul at their inner demons. Jagged edges define the top of “The Great Calamity That Bloomed a Seed of Grief.” Light doesn’t quite reach the eyes of “Captivated By My Rapid Descent Into A Beautiful Self-Destruction.” But as one journeys through the gallery, there’s something oddly hopeful about it. The gallery is about the monsters we sometimes become, not the monsters we are or the monsters we become forever. There’s something about having someone else name those ugly feelings we all feel and try to keep inside that feels freeing. It encourages one to contemplate the harder seasons of life and also normalizes these feelings.
We might become monsters sometimes, but maybe with spaces like this, we can see the humanity in us all.
