#parerstudio

Few things should come as a surprise this year, but giant illuminated humanoid figures invading the planet could be one of them. Fantastic Planet is that delightful surprise. Created by world-renowned artist Amanda Parer, this monumental public art installation features six impressively massive, ‘humanoid’ inflatables, the tallest of which stands 12 meters high. This spectacle of otherworldliness is part of the Downtown Spark event, a series of free, outdoor exhibits and activities meant to awaken the downtown core and bring it to life throughout March and April. What better way than with an invasion of gentle giants, sent to explore our ‘Fantastic Planet.’ We had the pleasure of chatting with Parer about her inspiration for this exhibit, the importance of shared experiences, and much, much more. Meet Amanda Parer.

The world and our public spaces have changed a lot since you first exhibited Fantastic Planet. After a year of many of us feeling invisible (at least from the waist down), the idea of feeling watched has a heightened layer to it. What does that narrative that add to this exhibit?

Parer: Sociologists may have already known this, but for us lay people, I think that, amongst other things, what the global pandemic has shown us is how being seen and seeing others is a big part of our human experience. It touches on the phrase ‘If a tree falls in the forest but nobody is around to hear it, does it make a sound?’ It symbolizes the ineffectiveness of unheard opinions/thoughts. Originally referring to physics, this can also apply to our current group experience. I think as isolation grew longer and so did our connections with people, it became evident that, as a species, we need to see and be in the same space of others, having shared experiences. From this grows our culture and history. To have my artwork, Fantastic Planet, as a focal point for folks to wander out to once again, bleary-eyed to have a (socially safe, of course) shared experience with is an honour, and I thank the Edmonton Arts Council for this opportunity.

What is it about public art that inspires you to not only create it, but also champion it?

Parer: Prior to being an installation artist, I was a fine artist exhibiting paintings and sculptures in galleries. This was extremely rewarding, and during these years, I developed themes, a style, and iconography to play with. The symbols I used were giant rabbits in a pristine or toiled landscape. Browsing the Internet one day, I came across images of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade in New York and realized that the inflatables were a medium that I could use to bring my rabbits out of the 2-dimensional and into the 3-dimensional space. I set about making my first art installation called Intrude. Exhibiting this work for the first time at the Sydney Vivid Festival in 2014, I realized this was a quite different way of presenting my art on all levels. The artwork was outside in the public realm, which meant the work was being experienced by people who didn’t just frequent art galleries—people were just there to experience and enjoy work. After this, I was sold. Luckily, this change in my practice coincided with my installation works becoming in demand, and I haven’t looked back or picked up a paintbrush since. I have made several other art installations since, and even through a pandemic, they continue to go buzzing around the world.

Many a selfie has been taken with your work. Are these pieces also meant to be touched? If so, what are guidelines for keeping the interaction respectful?

Parer: This is another element to why I have enjoyed making public art. In the public realm there is more scope to break the rules of the regular artworld, and one of these is the invisible barrier, which is more often than not present between the viewer and the art. Pre-pandemic, I invited people to touch my work, and during the exhibition we’d have chaperones to guide folks in how to interreact with “gentle touching,“etc. People have even been known to have dinner parties around my works. I came across a Japanese tea ceremony once in Sydney, with attendees in full geisha regalia. A couple of times there have even been lipstick marks on a bunny’s butt from someone feeling a bit amorous. In general, there’s usually a lot of hugging involved with my works, which I absolutely adore. But, of course, all of this is now on the back burner until the world gets of the pandemic.

The Edmonton Arts Council chose my work, Fantastic Planet, because it covers a lot of space and the pieces can be installed aerially—deliberately keeping them out of people’s reach. For this exhibition, some of the figures are being installed on rooftops, and my tallest figure is so tall at 14m high, that it’s naturally beyond reach. For the figures being displayed on the ground, folks will be guided in how to interact with the artworks in a Covid-sensitive manner—socially distancing from others and the artwork itself, and the pieces themselves will be regularly cleaned.

What does sending new work out into the world feel like? Can you compare it to anything?

Parer: Well, I liken it to having a child (I have three human ones of my own, too). The fun stuff happens at the start, i.e., having the idea, then you get busy making it, which has its challenges. This happens in my studio in Tasmanian, working alongside my team of lighting designers, makers, technicians, engineers, and producers. After this, it is ready to be ‘born,’ which means it’s ready to be exhibited. To achieve this, a supportive event holder has to take the initiative to hold the premiere of your brand new work. The installation then begins, which also has its ups and downs: long days, heavy lifting, directing teams, scheduling and planning. After all this, the opening night arrives and—ta-da!—your baby is born, out into the world (hopefully) being admired and also just ‘being’ in the world.

Many people have spent the last year looking to nature for comfort and questioning their relationship with it, often discovering they’ve been terrible partners. As someone who regularly questions that relationship with the natural world, what has it been like watching that light bulb go off for others?

Parer: I think that this is wonderful. Pre-pandemic, globally, we as a species were getting out of control, putting too much pressure on the natural world. What I find odd is that, generally, we knew where it was all heading—climate change, deforestation, overfishing the oceans—but the infrastructure in which we chose to run our lives does not support the amount of change needed for us to turn the tide on all of that. I think it is great that some awakening in this arena has occurred due to the pandemic, but, alas, I fear that we are creatures with short-term memories, and when the world ‘normalizes’ again, the old lifestyles and frameworks of living will too. It’s up to all us to keep mindful of this and do what we can.

To discover the locations of all six Fantastic Planet inflatables, as well as other Downtown Spark events, visit Explore Edmonton.

Artist Bio