David Medalla converses with the cosmos at LA’s Hammer Museum
The bubble machine—properly known as “Cloud Canyons”—must be David Medalla’s best-known work. Frothing bubbles of soap ooze from upright cylinders, a continuous stream spurting out, then gently cascading down. The foam reacts to the changing environment: bubbles pop and gush depending on the number of people viewing it; everyone’s collective breath affects the sudsy flow.
Medalla first showed Cloud Canyons in 1964 in London. It embodied the fulfillment of a dream, stated in a manifesto as a day when he could “create sculptures that breathe, perspire, cough, laugh, yawn, smirk, wink, paint, dance, walk, crawl.”
While today hailed as groundbreaking, versions of which have been acquired by The Tate and the National Gallery of Singapore, at that time, the art establishment ignored it, much as they did the artist, who stood as an outsider both in his naive Philippines and in his adopted British homeland.
An edition of Cloud Canyons, from the collection of Lito and Kim Camacho, stands at the center of one of the exhibition spaces at the Hammer Museum in Los Angeles, where David Medalla: In Conversation with the Cosmos marks the first major North American museum survey of Medalla’s work. From Los Angeles, the exhibition will travel to Mexico, where Medalla spent time, to the Museo Tamayo Arte Contemporáneo. For now, no plans exist for the exhibit to make it to the Philippines.
Much like his bubbles, Medalla was a shapeshifter. For over 70 years, he defied categorization. How, then, would an important museum approach an exhibition of a practice that included everything from running a gallery and a platform for artists on the fringes, fabricating sculpture that pioneered the intersection of science and art, political activism, and spontaneous artistic gestures?
In Conversation with the Cosmos, organized by Hammer Museum interim chief curator Aram Moshayedi and curatorial assistant Nyah Ginwright, is the first comprehensive survey in the United States dedicated Medalla (1938–2020). The exhibition contextualizes the elusive and experimental practice of an artist whose pioneering work spanned kinetic, performance, and participatory art movements. Medalla’s life and work cultivated intimate forms of exchange between collaborators, friends and lovers in the service of “cosmic propulsions,” “Impromptus,” and other otherworldly propositions. Beginning with paintings and drawings from the late 1950s and concluding with the works he produced before his death, In Conversation with the Cosmos presents the accumulations of a creative life imbued with an anti-institutional ethos and a commitment to impermanence and change.
During the exhibition’s opening walk-through, Moshayedi stated how Medalla “in many ways resisted museumification, resisted the kind of historicization that many artists are lucky enough to benefit from. And in a way, some of the hallmarks of his practice that I understood before even embarking upon this was that he was anti-institutional… He tried to make work that would somehow change the expectations of art.”
Medalla grew up in the Philippines, born shortly before World War II. Unconventional, even as a child, his education followed no formal progression. He intermittently attended three different high schools, and required special permission to enroll at the University of the Philippines Liberal Arts program without a high school diploma. Later on, he attended Columbia University as a special student, studying Greek Drama, Philosophy, Classical Literature, and Poetry.
The Medalla exhibition is arranged chronologically, beginning with the artist’s work from his 20s, living in Manila in the 1950s. He taught himself art, attending painting classes under Fernando Zobel. Hanging in this first room is a self-portrait from the National Museum of the Philippines which Medalla called Gaybriel. This gem of a piece highlights how comfortable the artist was with this sexual orientation even in the buttoned-up conservative climate of those times. Indeed, the exhibition makes no bones about unmasking the sensual and sexual nature that permeates throughout much of Medalla’s work.
Bio-kinetics
What made Cloud Canyons singular in the 1960s was its transformative quality; the art continues to morph as viewers immerse themselves in it. Throughout his career, he would involve himself in the junction of art and science. Today, especially with the advent of digital technology and the availability of information, these forays barely register on our consciousness. When Medalla first exhibited these works, the art establishment did not consider them art.
Mohole Flower, in several versions, depicts a bloom with its petals laid flat, flapping upwards at timed intervals. It takes its name from Project Mohole, a study that sought further knowledge into the earth’s crust. The exhibit includes one of its kinetic versions, as well as several drawings that have recurred throughout Medalla’s work.
Another piece, Sand Machine, involves the motorized rotation of a hanging protrusion over a base of sand. This circular movement creates patterns on the sand’s surface similar to that of a mandala. The artist has described this piece as a vision for a future in which solar energy and sand are harnessed to cultivate fertile terrain in the Earth’s deserts.
“The idea that David was somehow prescient,” ruminates Moshayedi, “is really manifest in the way that so many artists today are working at the intersections of art and technology. But in the early 1960s that relationship was the content of the work. And I feel, in some ways, David, being so early in this relationship between art and technology, is why the work also suffered. Art historians dismissed them as gimmick.”
Signals and the exploding galaxy
In 1960, Medalla settled in London, sailing from Manila in a ship that took him to Indochina, Singapore, Sri Lanka, India, Pakistan, East Africa, and Egypt before landing in Marseilles. This ushered in a period that art historians look back on as very significant, cementing his stature and contributions to art.
Medalla co-founded Signals in London in 1964 with a group of artists and critics. They provided a space for artists like themselves, those existing on the sidelines, who worked with unconventional materials and championed alternative expressions. It also acted as an incubator for artists from Asia and Latin America.
From 1967 to 1968, Medalla, together with Paul Keeler, one of the co-founders of Signals, initiated The Exploding Galaxy. Labeled a psychedelic commune, this became their vehicle for experimentation. The Exploding Galaxy spawned books, testament to how revolutionary it was. This marked a heady time, building a community of like-minded creatives. Performances that did not distinguish between actors and the audience became its hallmark, among them The Bird Ballet and The Buddha Ballet. Visitors can view recordings of these performances at the exhibit.
Unfortunately, the neighborhood around The Exploding Galaxy’s base in East London did not take kindly to disruptions. In 1968, after a raid on the place, police supposedly planted drugs and arrested members of the community. This spelled the end for The Exploding Galaxy.
Political activism
Global politics played a huge role in Medalla’s art, especially in the 1970s. The effect of colonization and US foreign policy particularly resonated with him. The exhibition brings out two notable works demonstrating this shift.
Africa Liberation Drawings is a series of works in support of the independence of Angola, Mozambique, Guinea-Bassau, and Cape Verde. Looking at these drawings in light of today’s regard for African culture, Medalla once again seems ahead of his time, supporting causes that the world would eventually catch up to 50 years later.
Closer to home, the Kumbum Banners, from the collection of the National Gallery of Singapore, consists of clipped newspaper articles, mostly from the Manila Chronicle, pasted onto boards. These narrate the events immediately after the declaration of martial law in the Philippines in 1972. Medalla had very strong opinions on the Marcos regime, and this was just one of its manifestations.
At the center of the exhibition stands a row of masks, makeshift paraphernalia fashioned from whatever must have been readily available. Masks are central to Medalla’s art, the prop that allowed him to assume various personas, transform like a chameleon, especially important in the performance of his Impromptus. These spontaneous works suited his work: They could be composed without the need for funding or preparation. It also suited a personality that moved in perpetual motion, acted on the burning issues of the day, and expressed his beliefs and viewpoints.
Exhibition curator Moshayedi notes: “The Impromptu, for me, represents a kind of a really beautiful way of merging art and life in a seamless way. An ‘impromptu’ is simply the performance of an action in front of a monument or a building, oftentimes referring to a certain kind of literary or artistic moment. From the Impromptu, David develops a kind of notion of synoptic realism that becomes the umbrella for his work at that time.”
One wonders when thinking of Medalla suddenly bursting into unplanned performances how much was motivated by the spirit of the moment and the fun of it. It seems safe to say that each “Impromptu” had an equal dose of merriment and conviction. Today’s audiences, so attuned to social media flash mobs and TikToks, would likely jump up and join in.
The Adam Nankervis connection
Medalla made several notable friendships throughout his life, among them Guy Brett, John Duggan, Paul Keeler. Likely, they were his lovers, too. But the defining relationship of the last three decades of his life was with Adam Nankervis.
This is the first time this partnership has been taken into scholarly consideration. The exhibit makes a point of signifying the value of their joint work in the light of Medalla’s overall practice.
The pair founded the Mondrian Fan Club to pay tribute to Piet Mondrian, an artist who, like themselves, was underappreciated during his lifetime. The work by the Mondrian Fan Club resulted from the love the two shared, and the tenderness, affection, and warmth cannot be disguised. These sentiments come across palpably, whether through photographs, Impromptus, or videos. Medalla’s stroke in 2016 underscored the depth of this love, when Nankervis elected to act as Medalla’s primary caregiver. One of the last works in the exhibit is a series of poignant photographs, Sirens, taken by Nankervis from 2017 to 2019. Towards the end, Medalla lost all sensation except in his face. Nankervis fashioned masks that Medalla donned for this set of portraits, an avenue by which he could continue to make and feel his art.
“I was pleasantly surprised,” shares Daniel Kupferberg, the archivist of the Medalla papers, “as to how several aspects previously left underemphasized, like the sensuality—and sexuality—that permeates so much of David’s visions, and his decades-long and very poetic collaborations with Adam Nankervis, got due curatorial attention.”
David Medalla, according to himself
The first thing visitors note when they enter the exhibition is a floor-to-ceiling photo of Medalla as a young man. With his bowl haircut, he looks directly at the camera, holding a maple leaf on his hand, his gesture echoes the gyan mudra, the yoga hand position associated with wisdom and knowledge. He isn’t smiling, but holds an expression of suppressed amusement, seeming to cook up mischief.
Perusing the notes, ephemera, and memorabilia on view throughout the exhibit, the visitor gets a sense that Medalla sought to craft his story on his terms. He wrote and revised several of his own histories, documented anecdotes, especially about his encounters and friendships with the famous. For instance, that he shared a kiss with James Dean, introduced John Lennon to Yoko Ono, and influenced Marcel Duchamp’s medal sculpture.
“What we really found in having a number of conversations with his past collaborators is that David was either characterized as being incredibly charming and charismatic or incredibly self-centered and egotistical,” states Mohayedi. “You almost feel that it’s someone who wants to justify their presence by proximity to others, whether it’s historical or social. And that to me is an interesting pathology that also comes from being part of the diaspora, where you are looking for where you fit into a cultural context that otherwise tries to exclude you. So you find your linkages and your points of connection. Especially because he was also ignored back home.”
“It’s my hope,” says Kupferberg, “that this show will help establish David’s work and legacy in North America as an outspokenly gay artist who is a person of color. And that his numerous contributions will get its rightful recognition.”
Adds Moshayedi: “In many ways, even through a kind of a type of self-fashioning or redefinition of self, he was kind of evading a clean biography. He was an artist that referred to himself as a transcendental hedonist, as a synoptic realist, among many other monikers. I feel that if David was here, this exhibit would be very different. In his lifetime, he never saw an exhibition of this scale.”
What the viewer takes away from this trailblazing show is the artist fully fleshed out. A genius ahead of his time, not without his shortcomings, but fearless in the way he expressed his beliefs and pursued his intellectual curiosities, authentic and unapologetic in the way he lived his life and worked on his art. You also imbibe his humor and playfulness, a sense that while he was a serious artist, he lived fully and wholeheartedly in the moment. Complex, multi-layered, larger-than-life—truly one of a kind.
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David Medalla: In Conversation with the Cosmos runs until Sept. 15 at The Hammer Museum, 10899 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles, California 90024.
