Step out of the small elevator to the second floor of the new museum, and you will find yourself immediately surrounded by a sound that is reminiscent of architecture: constant impact-rumbling, rumbling, rumbling-on the walls and concrete of the museum The floor reverberates, penetration and pulse rise, suggesting something bigger to come, perhaps a collapse or a demolition. It may take a second for you, like me, to figure out that the sound is not caused by construction at all, but by a small device on the right side of the elevator door, directly under your feet. 

Installation view-"Machine #4: Stone (ground)" by Gabriela Murex. "2021 Triennial: Soft Water Hard Rock", 2021. Exhibition view: New York Museum. Photo: Dario Lasani

"Machine #4: Stone (Ground)" by Brazilian artist Gabriela Mureb is a work borrowed from Peru's private collection in 2017 by the New Museum. It consists of an aluminum rod parallel to the ground and connected to a small motor to provide power for its forward and backward movement. The aluminum rod slammed firmly against a cream stone. The stone tilted back slightly, and then tilted back onto its base, making a bang. There is a few seconds between each action of "Machine #4". The moment after the rod is pushed out but before it actually touches the stone; after the stone is tilted back but before it falls back to the ground; after it falls on the base, but before the thunk has a chance to fill the space in the gallery-they are in The expansion of the space in the form of sound requires the audience to imagine that in a long enough time and through enough repetitions, the pole may eventually change the shape of the stone permanently, which may in turn permanently shape the quality of the sound, its range of motion, Or the rod can reach its full capacity. 

This is the central metaphor of the Fifth Triennial of the New Museum. Its title "Soft Water Hard Rock" comes from the same Brazilian proverb that inspired Murreb's work: "águamole em pedra dura, tanto bate ate que fura." It means: "soft water makes a hole in a hard stone." The four-story artwork covers a range of contemporary art practices and media: video installations, collages with ready-made objects, traditional and unconventional materials The sculptures are grouped under one heading, which seems to indicate that over time, these works may have an effect that is greater than the sum of their parts. 

Installation view-"Mamá Luchona" in the foreground and "As I Lay Dying" in the background. "2021 Triennial: Soft Water Hard Rock", 2021. Exhibition view: New York Museum. Photo: Dario Lasani

The sheer number and diversity of the Triennial may overwhelm visitors, either by shifting their attention completely to a piece of work, or finding their attention distracted and arguing. The curators put the conflicting works close together, exacerbating the effect of disharmony. On the fourth floor, seven 4×8-foot paintings by Baltimore artist Cynthia Daignault, “When I'm Dying,” depict hundreds of years of trees that have witnessed the American Civil War and its cruelty. This work uses monochromatic black and white stubby brushstrokes, suggesting a fanatical trouble with the round, smooth firmness of "Mamá Luchona", a clay sculpture nearly fourteen feet tall, reminiscent of an ancient , A bird that may not fly. The brown eggs are embedded in a grid pattern on its surface, created by the Argentine artist Gabriel Chaile, just in the "As I Lay Dying" Front. 

Similar moments of disharmony have appeared throughout the exhibition: the central gallery on the second floor is filled with small and medium-sized sculptures, trying to provide a foothold for the eyes. This may be the point. This year’s Triennial, in its own words, “recognizes artists to reimagine traditional models, materials, and techniques that transcend established paradigms.” Therefore, works are often highly personal, full of incomprehensible specific feelings, or heights. For reference, if the audience is not familiar with the history they point to, it will make it difficult for them to understand.

This is the challenge of planning an exhibition. In the words of the triennial press release, “this moment of profound change, the structure that was once thought to be stable is disintegrating or on the verge of collapse.” There is no scaffolding that can be supported. The work of art will feel free from any reality, except the reality of the artist. 

Installation drawing-"Labor Painting (New Museum)" by Clara Ianni. "2021 Triennial: Soft Water Hard Rock", 2021. Exhibition view: New York Museum. Photo: Dario Lasani

One of these works broke the hustle and bustle: Clara Ianni's "Labor Map (New Museum)", a set of 14 maps depicting the commuting routes of as many workers as the new museum. Ianni’s work is arranged in two rows of grids and almost occupies the entire wall of the third floor of the museum, inviting visitors to approach it: the light wood frame almost matches the color of the paper depicting commuter routes in graphite, which in turn almost Matching with the color of the wall gives the whole work a self-disguising atmosphere; some journeys are short and can be represented by a single point; and the accompanying data set-elapsed time, starting and ending locations, transportation methods- It is printed on the card in small print and cannot be read from a distance. It is impossible to absorb it without spending at least a few minutes. The "Labor Picture (New Museum)" can be interpreted as a direct reference to the recent work of the union at the New Museum, where union workers have been retaliated against. But even without this background, this work can use simple facts to fight anxiety and let people temporarily get rid of their worries about the direction of artistic creation. We may not know the direction of the art world, but every morning the security guards of the new museum will know where they will go in forty-five minutes.