PACE, detail, 4" x 6", digital prints

I remember the shock to my system when I first decamped from New York City to Austin in early 1997. It was the first time in my adult life that I had ever lived in a pedestrian-hostile city with poor public transportation. And 110-degree heat. Three months in, it became clear that I either had to get a car or lead a radically different and slower kind of life. I chose the car.



Artist Hadley Breckenridge has so no such option. Because Breckenridge has epilepsy, she cannot drive, and therefore must navigate Atlanta in an entirely different way than most of us. Her current solo show PACE at VSA Arts for All Gallery downtown explores the condition of forced slowness, of negotiating a city built for cars without a benefit of a car.





For one month, Breckenridge took photos of all of her daily movements, by foot, by public transportation, by bummed rides. She began with a photo of herself and what she carried around for the day, and then snapped digital photos of her surroundings intermittently throughout her travels to art classes, the grocery store, the doctor, and around the house. In the gallery display, each day begins with a record of how far she has traveled (in miles and steps), the number of seizures that day, and whether the journey was ultimately successful or not.



The photos are lined up in chronological order, ringing the gallery. Arts for All Gallery is devoted to artists with disabilities and--not coincidentally--has had a number of shows that echo this brand of obsessive documentation. As invisible populations seek visibility, this kind of documentation overkill often becomes a powerful weapon.





The photos are meant to document the artist's constantly frustrated movements. Breckenridge says

I wait for trains, buses and other rides. Sometimes it takes up to an hour and a half to get somewhere that would otherwise take 15 minutes by car. I have no control over the delayed sense of time that I experience. Life seems to be eaten away with this constant waiting.

Ironically, if anything, the photos in PACE are not tedious enough. Like most good photographers, Breckenridge is particularly talented in isolating the decisive moment and the telling detail from the noise and flux of her surroundings. I had to constantly remind myself that these photos were attempts to document an exhausting and frustrating process--getting from point A to point B.





I was reminded of Emily Maxwell's "24 Hour Hands" at Mint Gallery's 404/912 show a couple of weeks ago. In that piece, Maxwell documented the variable steadiness of her hand with repeated hash marks drawn consistently (and tediously) over a 24-hour period. Both artists are dealing with the limitations of the body, the interaction between their medical states and their art making, and the confessional documentation of failures. In Maxwell's case, however, the form more closely matches the content.





Without enough tedium--that is, an overabundance of pure, rote repetition--Breckenridge's exhibition actually leads one to the conclusion that her life is rather fascinating and full of interesting details and moments throughout the day.



Which it may be, too.



It may be that through her frustration, Breckenridge builds a compelling argument for living life more like her. Though she speaks of guilt over having to bum rides and wishing that a grocery run was not an involved, time consuming affair, she leaves us with all the acutely observed details of the city that can only be registered by slowing down and getting out of the car.



PACE runs through June 20.

I've been a pedestrian for all of 2007. (Since I'm also a smoker, the transition from "pedestrian" to full-time bicyclist has been slow coming...)

It kind of sucks, but I've learned to adapt. MARTA has problems but it's certainly underrated. I wish more people supported it.

I don't have epilepsy, but one of our bicycle friends does. It's a terrible handicap, and he's been known to have seizures on the bike. But, ya know, he doesn't give up.

You have to keep living, and few people have the ability to stop going to work / the grocery / the doctor...

Oh, and by "for all of 2007," make that "for all of 2008."

Sorry: being a pedestrian also exposes you to a lot of sun. It's going to be a hot summer...

I second guess my transportation choices all the time, especially now that we're staring down the barrel of $5 per gallon gas.

Back in Austin, I tried for a long time to avoid having a car, but found it nearly impossible to run my own business without one. Not that I was hauling anything around (it was a design business); I just couldn't afford 3 or 4 hours in travel time every day going back and forth between client meetings.

Some friends of mine made other choices though--they simplified their lives so that all that moving around was not necessary.

Ironically, when I moved to Atlanta I was actually glad to have the better public transportation here. Which tells you how bad it was in Austin.

Nice review, I love Hadley's work. Having sold my car almost a year ago and taken to the streets myself I commend her.

Good point that there wasn't enough tedium to emphasize the tedium, but maybe that's what is enlightening about this lifestyle.

My experiment with 'carlessness' like Hadley's familiar treks made it clear that that this is a choice, people talk about driving as opposed to walking or biking as if there is NO choice.

I find the waiting very comforting, even when the weather is bad. You look for other things to occupy your time, often your own thoughts or a good book. Those moments of solitude and contemplation were sorely missed, I just didn't know it.

So far what I like most about this show is the way it has led to actual discussions and thinking about actual THINGS outside of itself, which most art claims to do but rarely succeeds in doing.