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If one were to enter a particular room of the Art Institute of Chicago, one might at first assume the room

is empty. Glance around the room, however, and Felix Gonzalez-Torres Portrait of Ross in L.A. will catch one s eye. Gonzalez-Torres portrait is composed of hundreds of multi-colored candies individually wrapped in bright, shiny cellophane piled haphazardly in the corner of the room. This mountain of multi-colored candy is almost hidden away in a corner. However, as the only source of color in the bright, white room, Gonzalez-Torres sculpture immediately claims the eye of the viewer. The bright hues of the wrappers serve as a sharp contrast to the blank walls, attracting the viewer despite the sculpture s relatively small size - the unimposing sculpture only takes up approximately three square feet of space. With its undefined shape and atypical medium, Portrait of Ross bears no resemblance to even the most abstract of portraits. Though the visual presentation of Gonzalez-Torres sculpture is different from what one would typically expect of a portrait, Gonzalez-Torres still manages to express a profound feeling of both love and loss. By working with an abstract and unusual medium, Gonzalez-Torres avoids producing a clichd portrait of a lost loved one. Instead, by engaging the viewer in his work, Gonzalez-Torres presents a new, more hopeful outlook on loss. The hundreds of candies initially have a whimsical or cheerful air about them, due to the bright shades of the wrappers. The candies are placed in a haphazard pile in the corner of a room. This, too, invokes a light-hearted and almost childlike feeling. The actual shape and placement of the sculpture, a result of the medium, has a lesser effect on the viewer than the chosen medium. Gonzalez-Torres

did not choose this unusual medium by accident. As the only material used in this work, these candies represent the man whose form the artist is trying to capture in his portrait. The candies represent the almost childlike happiness that Ross brought to Gonzalez-Torres. The chaotic pile of candy is supported on two sides by the white walls. It is at the meeting of these two walls that the pile of candy is at its highest point; it then descends to the floor, just as mountains and hills slope towards the ground. The composition is balanced, yet the sculpture has a fragile appearance due to its dependence on the walls for support. Since this pile of candy is meant to represent Ross, it implies an intriguing thing about him that his portrait should be leaning on walls for support. This structure implies that Ross, too, needed support. However, it is not the only image of the sculpture itself that communicates Gonzalez-Torres message. A photograph of Portrait of Ross does not communicate its meaning in the way the artist intended. The viewer must look past the image of the sculpture and see the work as Gonzalez-Torres intended it to be seen. This is not your typical art installation there are no Do Not Touch signs, no ropes or chains discouraging the viewer from getting close to this display. The lone guard is not there to prevent anyone from taking the candy; in fact, it is the opposite. All visitors are permitted and even encouraged to take handfuls of candy from Gonzalez-Torres Portrait of Ross. This sculpture is not made of wood or marble. Despite it s technically solid composition, the sculpture changes as the amount of candy changes. As each visitor passes the installation, another handful of candy disappears from the pile. Thus,

sculpture takes a very interesting, fluid sort of shape because the shape of the portrait changes throughout the day as more candy is removed and the size diminishes. It is this fluidity and movement that the viewers of the portrait are meant to interpret. As more and more candy is taken from Gonzalez-Torres portrait, Ross becomes only a few pieces of candy strewn across the museum floor and then perhaps, by the end of the day, fades to nothing. Return the next day, however, and the pile of candy will be back weighing exactly as much as it did the day before. The slow depletion of the candy implies a similarly slow depletion of Ross, and presumably of his life. Just as Ross faded away, so the pile of candy gradually fades throughout each day. This is the artist s way of sharing the pain he felt experiencing the loss of Ross, but also expressing his love. We act as more than witnesses to Ross diminution. We do not only watch Ross fade, we take an active role in his disappearance. This does not only happen once, but every day. Thus, we are forced to experience Ross loss more acutely, since we can no longer be active bystanders. Despite the sadness of the shrinking sculpture, there is something truly beautiful about the replenishment of the candy. Though it is easy to see the sadness in watching Ross disappear day after day, Gonzalez-Torres intention was not to create more sadness. It was to represent the loss of Ross life in an honest, yet hopeful way. Even though Ross fades at the end of each day, he is also granted perpetual life when the candy is replenished and weighed. He is renewed in the replenishing, and in a way, also in the removal of the candy. We carry little pieces of Ross in our pockets as we leave the Institute. As the sculpture is begun anew each

day, we do more than just contribute to Ross death we take a piece of his life with us. Understanding the origination of Gonzalez-Torres sculpture helps us understand this intention. Portrait of Ross in L.A. is a sculpture of Gonzalez-Torres partner, Ross, who died of AIDS related diseases in 1991. When Ross was first diagnosed with AIDS, his doctor placed his ideal rate at 175 pounds - the exact amount that Gonzalez-Torres sculpture weighs at the beginning of each day. Just as Ross weight dwindled in the months and weeks leading up to his death, so the pile of candy dwindles each day. Though the pile of candy serves as a visual metaphor for Ross diminishing body, it also serves to spread Gonzalez-Torres love for Ross with each visitor who leaves the sculpture with a piece of candy in her pocket. Portrait of Ross is replenished each day so that his memory will outlive his physical body. Gonzalez-Torres work requires a focused eye to read and understand the meaning of his sculpture. It is almost too easy to pass off or ignore it as just a pile of candy in a corner. To those who do not reflect on the origin and the future of this display, it remains simply a pleasant and pleasing, yet utterly shallow installation. It is an omnipresent heap of candy, and without further thought, can become nothing more. However, if one should choose to look at this portrait as more than just a pile of candy, Portrait of Ross becomes more evocative. Even if the viewer only takes the time to recognize the fluidity of the portrait, Gonzalez-Torres work draws the viewer in, making her a part of Ross death and his eternal resurrection.

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