| Wry
vision of world without borders
When Tom Müller developed his World Passport project he imagined
a world free of national boundaries
where the evolutionary species of "homoglobus" could move freely
around the planet. The passports he created were limited edition artworks
that looked so much like the real thing, when he shipped back a large
number from Europe last year post-September 11 they were intercepted by
the Australian Federal Police. Certain they had identified the ringleader
of a terrorist group in need of multiple passports they waited until he
returned to Australia before swooping.
They arrived early one morning,, searched his house and studio, then took
him in for questioning. They were eventually convinced that Müller
was an artist, not a terrorist, and allowed him to return home to complete
the works for his Homoglobus exhibition at the Galerie Düsseldorf
in Perth.
With that assurance from the AFP, visitors to the gallery shouldn't require
further validation that Müller is an artist or that the strange-looking
maps on the walls and the booth selling World Passports and Wanderlust
diaries are indeed art. If they do, then a few minutes with his work will
convince even the most cynical viewers that Müller is the genuine
article. His work is visually engaging and deeply thought-provoking, tackling
issues that even the AFP can't ignore.
The central question of how we relate to the planet grows out of Müller's
earlier work, which explores ecological systems, magnetic forces and underlying
networks. As an extension of these ideas he has converted the gallery
into a world embassy, staffed by crisply dressed attendants, to develop
new networks that will expand our understanding of how we fit in a global
community.
With their grey uniforms and stainless-steel nameplates, his attendants
are available to release applicants from the boundaries imposed by nationalism.
Instead of categorising people by their place of birth, Müller and
his team offer us the possibility of reconstructing ourselves as citizens
of the world. We can also purchase a Wanderlust diary in which to chronicle
our travels and record the map of our connectedness with the planet. Some
of these maps are plotted out in thread on .a large projection of the
world on one wall of the gallery.
Müller's fascination with travel and the coding of information in
bureaucratic forms has also led him to document the world's international
airports. Carefully plotting the size and direction of the airstrips of
all the International Air Transport Association listed airports, he has
created a surrogate map of the world. It is easy to delineate the shape
of North America, Europe and Asia and, with more difficulty, Australia,
- using only the series of small lines traced in a field of blue recording
the runways. A companion work is a display of these runway diagrams listed
alphabetically using the three-digit IATA code for each airport.
The humour that underlies this pro- is infectious and the formality of
the
presentation, not to mention Müller's assistants in their smart uniforms,
reinforces the point that we are trapped by the boundaries we impose on
ourselves. His exhibition challenges us to see the world from a different
point of view.
Ted Snell
|
