Sean Hages, “10/10: Support Your Friend”
The Narthex Church
4103 Cadillac Boulevard
Sunday, October 12
Always a good sign in the Detroit art scene when someone says, “there’s an immersive installation of giant inflatable art in an old church on the east side.” I love our art scene.
Sean Hages is an artist who has worked in heavier materials – think clay and metal – but wanted to find something easier to move, easier to store, yet just as impactful when it was unveiled.
He found it with his giant forced inflatable figures. These artistic creations are made from ripstop nylon and a trade name material similar to what camping tents are made of. The build and function draws to mind those wacky inflatable tube men famously dancing for your attention outside of used car lots.
Through the vision of Hages, these don’t just draw your attention -- they inflate your imagination. Feel free to touch! It’s a sensory experience, too. These figures bounce back when pushed. Not a lot of art shows can offer that.
“It’s the most forgiving material I’ve ever worked with,” says Hages during the closing moments of his weekend-long exhibition. “You can fix these. You can edit these.”
As he talks, I can’t stop seeing his work as a living, breathing ecosystem. Am I walking through the 1991 Sega video game “ToeJam & Earl?” God, I hope so. The image of a coral reef comes to mind, too, both via shape and color. Speaking of which, Hages can change the color of the entire installation via a lighting app on his iPhone, instantly changing the mood as he sees fit or to match someone's outfit better if they’re taking a photo.
Hages originally based these creations off of the endemic flora of the Yemeni island Socotra, which has been dubbed “the most alien-looking place on Earth.”
Hages calls this group of inflatables “Wild Aesthetic.”
“Someone called them sea anemones one time and I really liked that,” says Hages. “They’re like the kind of creatures you would see when you smoke DMT.”
There’s a psychedelic goofiness to them. They don’t look like perfectly functional specimens. If they came to life, some would scream out in pain and wonder why they were created in the first place. Others would struggle to walk. A few would be just fine. And maybe one would be considered “traditionally beautiful” by our silly human standards.
For Hages, that’s the point.
“We think of life and intelligence as symmetrical. I don’t think it necessarily is. I don’t think organic beings have to be symmetrical to be appealing,” says Hages.
Inside of this old repurposed church on the east side, there’s a stark contrast between the architecture of the space and Hages’ work. I don’t think it’s the best setting to witness them. They’re so big, bold and unique that I keep wanting to put them in a bland white box, but it’s a fun juxtaposition and use of space for a quick weekend installation. (Hages charged admission for the first two days and made the closing day free to the public.)
Hages’ pop-up shows can be tough to keep track of (following him on Instagram is your best bet). He’s the first to admit that he’s not the best at promoting.
But these inflatable showstoppers are worth trying to catch. There’s nothing else like these creatures on Planet Detroit.
