The Rice Gallery will display ‘Intersections’, a sculptural installation designed by Anila Quayyum Agha, until Dec. 6.

It effectively manipulates the gallery space, engages the visitors and provides a window into the mind of the artist. Yet it lacks context, appropriates the best of Moorish art, and ultimately turns a social critique into a mere illustration of exclusion. The design and detail of the piece is incredible, the effect visceral, and despite its contextual shortcomings it deserves to be experienced.

Each side of the laser-cut wooden structure repeats an identical symmetrical pattern. It’s suspended by thin wires which provide the illusion of levitation. From the ceiling a lightbulb hangs, dropping down into the center of the cube and projecting multiple geometric designs against the gallery walls from the ceiling to the floor. Its expectedly intricate because the process of laser cutting is so precise. The standard for laser cut wood is considerably high.

Intersections is a fine art contradiction, its aesthetic and imaginative value is clear. It can bring value to any space which may otherwise be uninhabited and static. Yet the theory of its intellectual purpose remains obscure, even after reading the additional wall text and history.

Aghas’ project description suggest that her visit to the Alhambra Palace in Granada, Spain made her “reflect on her childhood in Lahore, Pakistan where culture dictated that women were excluded from the mosque.”

The interior of that palace in Spain is covered with complex designs of Islamic art, and ostentatiously ornate relief sculptures carved onto seemingly every wall, column and ceiling surface. Agha wanted to translate the feelings of both wonder and exclusion into her installation, but without historical context the installation positions itself as vulnerable, open to both criticism and innumerable interpretations.

The dimensions of the gallery space worked perfectly with this installation. According to the Encyclopedia Britannica the majority of the rooms at Alhambra are “quadrangular, with all rooms opening to a central court.” The Rice Gallery is just that, a cubed room with a vaulted tray ceiling, it opens to a lobby and a courtyard where classrooms and lecture halls stretch in each direction. The architectural significance of both Rice and the Alhambras history provide an additional physicality to a possible historical context of the installation.

With Intersections, every person in the room becomes part of the exhibition, the lines which connect visitors across the space creating a diagram of potential relationships. It is an inactive interactive exhibit, it stands still as the viewers circle it, casting long shadows in every direction.

Simultaneously, shapes shine from the frame of the box, each surface takes hold of it in a unique way, and they stretch from the floor to the wall and onto the faces of those looking on in wonder. But how do these shapes and patterns allude to Islamic spaces without the additional reference or context for the viewer? Were there any specific periods or events in the palace history which are significant to Agha’s upbringing in Pakistan?

It doesn’t appear to have a substantive context, despite the simple, well meaning adoption of an appreciable monument. Ironically, during its prime a majority of the interior buildings of the Alhambra palace were likely accessible only to prominent citizens, members of the military, and Moorish monarchs, no different in exclusivity than the mosque of Agha’s childhood.

This exhibition seemingly reveals more about Anilas interpretation than it does about the complexity of her Pakistani culture and community. She is the light and her memories are the box, both isolated and at the center of attention, projecting her childhood impressions of exclusion against anyone who wishes to be seduced by the marvel of Islamic art.

Still, it is not simply a spectacle of shadows, it serves as a facilitator of social interaction between groups who otherwise may not have been in the same room. It dedicates itself to increasing cultural and racial understanding, and challenging the institutions it inhabits to encourage homogeneous social groupings.

Chuck Wemple, a Rice Gallery frequenter, spent most of his day at the gallery and attests that the space looks completely different without a crowd in the room. Yet there is a crowd here now, the people are interacting, and no-one is excluded from the experience, for that the exhibit is successful.

The Rice Gallery is free and open to the public. It’s open Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday and Saturday 11 am – 5 pm; Thursday 11 am- 7 pm; and Sunday noon – 5 pm. It’s closed Mondays and will be closed for the Thanksgiving holiday Nov 24-29.