Deborah Schamoni

From Munich, I thought my way into the studio in UBS where I was to work on my thesis. An almost square,white room without windows, two smoke detectors in strange openings under the high ceiling that lead into theexhibition space, also without daylight. A room that tries very hard to be a white cube, a room without features. I thought about how can I embed myself, align myself, ground myself. To point towards something that is bigger than me, than the room.

I begin building a compass, with a needle, the lid of a water bottle, a magnet and a bowl filled with water. Itworks, says my compass app. First, I assume that a compass works precisely, always pointing exactly north (tothe North Pole?). Working with it reveals a different reality: when I place it on the ground, the needle turns in allpossible directions. I span threads on the floor in chaotic structures. When I measure even more precisely and the needle turns wildly. There must be something in the floor that is interfering. Only when I think bigger and more generously, when I walk through the room, compass in hand, I derive a rough direction from it. I find north in approximation, south in approximation, east and west in approximation.

I pull long threads through the whole room along the magnetic field that the compass shows me.

It was only later that I read on Wikipedia that compass comes from the Italian word compassare, which means to pace out. I read that although the compass aligns itself with the magnetic field, it does not always point to true north. The magnetic field varies regionally. The deviation from true north is called declination. In Munich, the declination is currently around +4°13', in Red Hook, New York around -12°49'. I also read that the magnetic field is moving, slowly, but forever.

The floor field, now spanned with threads, is reminiscent of a map of the sky.

I lay out the space with plotter paper, which is used for plans and maps. It comes on a roll, is thin and verywhite. I use graphite to bring out the structure of the floor and the constellation of the threads. The thread lines and the topography of the studio floor become part of my drawing. Sometimes I follow them and play around them, sometimes I bypass them, like water or wind, when an obstacle comes, there are counter-currents and whirls. And then I ignore the lines completely and do what I want. I turn the needle of the compass.

The paper fills the whole studio floor, 17 × 18 feet. There is no outside for me, no walking around it. I walk backwards and step into a bowl of ink, it splashes, I continue walking through the picture with wet, blue socks. I have to stop for today.

And then, on another day, I fold it up neatly like a map and carry it out of the studio and spread it out again.

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A compass shall be used to install the work at a different location in a different time. The lines through thepicture shall be aligned with the direction of the local magnetic field, not taking the declination into account.For the Thesis exhibition, the drawing is displayed on a floating pedestal made of plywood and folded foldingtables. The drawing rests lightly on it. Its lines still run from south to north, from north to south.You can walk around.

Text: MVM, 2025

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The Milton Avery Graduate School of the Arts at Bard College (Bard MFA) is pleased to present Double Take, the thesis exhibition for the class of 2026. For 25 years, Bard MFA has hosted the thesis exhibition at the Bard College Exhibition Center/UBS Gallery, a 16,000-square-foot facility dedicated to the presentation of student work. Double Take will be the final exhibition of Bard MFA at this location.“

The diverse practices of these 22 artists are unified by a careful deliberation of methods and materials, and an interest in slowing down the pace at which their work is consumed,” writes Mike R. Curran, the exhibition coordinator and a graduate student at the Center for Curatorial Studies, Bard College. “Double Take features objects and installations that reward a long look and a close listen. Spending time with meticulously composed canvases and photographs may conjure memories or evoke new visual worlds. Attuning to the silent stretches of a sound composition might open other sensory possibilities. Examining the materials at play may uncover conventional media—chalk, paper, twine—used in unexpected ways.”

“In a context where political, social, and ecological crises accelerate at a rapid speed, the demands placed on art to act as an antidote have become increasingly incoherent. Resisting these conditions, the works invite you to move through the exhibition with intention and invest in their provocations.”

Coordinated by Mike R. Curran

Artists: Juan Cisneros, Antonio Darden, Caroline David, Quinha Faria, Talia Fox, Lizzy Gabay, Shem Goldman, Bryce Hackford, Zoe Hamersly, Jeffrey Heiman, Rosa Maria de los Heros, Adrien Howard, Estefanía Landesmann, Alma Laprida David Lindsay, Jonas Monka, Frances Grace Mortel, Daisy Noyes, Martha Schnee, Cameron Sneddon, Maia Taber Ayerza, Maria VMier