Bal·last1
noun
1. Heavy material put into the hold of a ship or the gondola of a balloon to enhance the stability.
2. Coarse gravel or crushed rock laid to form a bed for roads or railroads.
3. A factor or element providing stability, esp. in character.
Ballast is, in my opinion, a word that sounds somewhat like its meaning. Prior to a quick dictionary search, I imagined ballast referred to something delicate yet filled with potentially perpetual energy; despite ending with a hard "t," it bounces off the tongue similar to "ballet," which it seems I have loosely, subconsciously described. Yet my conceptualization of the word was challenged upon learning it defines a stabilizer. In addition to sounding delicate and potentially energetic, "ballast" simultaneously possesses a low and steady power; it is neither frail nor elegant, like a long yet easy to pronounce word. Instead, it sits at the bottom of the throat like a weight, mirroring its meaning. Like all words, context and tone impact comprehension and ballast is no different, but putting aside its denotation the word sounds contradictory. The stability it advertises can be perceived as fleeting and untrustworthy.
Ballast is the title of a photographic series made in 1984 by artist Jo Ann Callis. According to an article published by The New Yorker, "Woman Twirling" is an alternative name for the body of work, though I believe the simplicity and subsequent lack of specificity of "Ballast" is more fitting, more intriguing.2 "Ballast" is a collection of photographs united by their lack of clarity and their depiction of figures mid-motion. I fixate on Callis's title because it seems the word ballast provokes a similar connotation within both her and me, a momentary feeling of security and ground. This sensation is a lot like descending a staircase, trusting yourself to estimate the distance between your foot and the following step and stumbling from miscalculation. Callis states she "became acutely aware of how we are confronted by the transience of the people in our [lives]" and "wanted to juxtapose that idea with very still objects."3 She describes the project as a photographic reconciliation.4
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| © Jo Ann Callis |
Beneath a saturated color palette, each image presents an isolated and unclear narrative; the captured moments read as humorous, introspective and desperate acts of performance. While there is no answer as to why the photographed individuals are carrying out such unusual tasks before the camera, an answer is unnecessary; ambiguity adds to the performative quality of each scene. To get a sense of this ambiguity, consider the photograph above - a decorative lamp sits in the foreground while a woman flounces in the background, skirt lifting away from her body like a fan. Unknowingly, she has positioned herself dangerously close to the wall, pivoting on one heel with both ankles turned in a painfully unnatural configuration. The lamp is both her spotlight and audience, she performs in isolation. Is she dancing, about to slip, or simply rolling around in childish agony? This woman, like the many other "Ballast" performers, revels in pathetic look-at-me anguish.
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| © Jo Ann Callis |
The photograph above is similar in composition to the previous, where an object (a house plant, in this instance) is placed awkwardly in the foreground while an individual undergoes some kind of episode in the background. By including these potentially obstructive objects, Callis dictates that we are more than viewers: we are voyeurs. Like children flailing and whining for attention during a time out, aware their disciplinarian is in a neighboring room, Callis's subjects demand notice through a similar window of opportunity - it's as if the photographic subjects know they are being looked at, therefore they encourage our voyeurism with wild behavior. We indulge them by looking, peering behind the lamp, the plant and the mirror precariously balanced on top of a filing cabinet (see photograph below). The only difference is that her subjects are adults, not children, which begs the question of whether we are capable of growing out of particular behaviors at all, or if it is wrong or reasonable to devise silly ploys for attention every now and again.
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| © Jo Ann Callis |
Not all "Ballast" photographs document erratic behavior, however a desire for praise is present in all of them: a woman does a handstand between parted gold curtains, a man does push-ups on two chairs with a mirror below him, another woman holds her breath underwater amongst fish. Although the handstand photograph is an outlier, the concept of motion is paramount to the series. The blurring of movement increases ambiguity, but more importantly suggests instability - physically and mentally. To find balance is to find one's center of gravity despite adversity; balance is a brief moment of calm, easily destroyed by subtle movement.
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| © Jo Ann Callis |
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| © Jo Ann Callis |
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| © Jo Ann Callis |
A majority of Callis's subjects are women, and I'd like to think this is because the concept of instability is frequently thought of as a woman's ailment. Society has constructed oppressive gender roles such that words like "manic," "volatile" and "flighty" are considered feminine, while "durable," "assured" and "loyal" are masculine. No surprise there is more positive association with the masculine words. As a photographic series, "Ballast" revels in the language of instability, thereby taking control of it. Although both men and women are photographed in transience, the staged domestic realm they exist within has prompted me to read "Ballast" as a commentary on the relationship between instability and women, as opposed to instability and men. Even without knowing the alternative title, "Woman Twirling," the photograph of the dancing woman radiates a level of significance absent from the rest.
Admittedly, my feminist interpretation is not in complete alignment with the artistic intentions of Callis, who says that while she agrees with feminism, she "wasn't talking a public stance at the time."5 However, she is of the belief that "you are the product of the society you live in," suggesting her awareness of the movement's impact upon her artistic practice, even if only subconsciously.6 My desire to interpret "Ballast" as a subtle feminist statement is based upon the fact it inspired me in such a way, although I realize not all female artists intend for their work to be read from a feminist perspective. As for the setting, Callis says "domesticity" has been used to describe the aura of her work, though she finds the word somewhat derogatory.7 Depending on how it is said, and who says it, I do not think "domesticity" or "domestic" must carry negative associations, however Callis is right to recognize a pejorative undertone, as the spaces and practices historically associated with women have been seen as characteristic of "lesser art" by the unfortunately patriarchal art world, and although her contemporaries were incorporating references to domesticity in their work to make intentionally feminist statements (more intentional than Callis), this trend has gained more acceptance today (remember "Ballast" was made in the early 80s). I assume she considers "domesticity" pejorative because this trend was in its infancy at the peak of her career. Regardless, the domestic aspects of Callis's work amplify the significance of the Ballast photographs featuring women, thereby reiterating a connection between femininity and instability. It is hard not to insinuate a relationship between the image of the woman twirling, and this one of a table cloth being pulled out from underneath a collection of teacups and saucers; the same kind of unbalanced, frantic energy can be found in the movement of the woman and in the movement of the tablecloth. This cannot be said for the photograph of the man doing push-ups, as there is less of a historical relationship between men and domestic spaces. Additionally, it seems the female performers are more desperate for attention than the male performers.
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| © Jo Ann Callis |
Callis's logic for staging a home-like interior was based upon her view of the home as a "stage for so many crucial things that occur in a lifetime," "a place of comfort and discomfort."8 And although her decision to stage photographs in a home-like environment was not for the purpose of highlighting the relationship between femininity and volatility, as I imagined, it is still a relevant observation, seeing as Callis is ultimately interested in dichotomies and the transient gray spaces between them, and that transience can still be found in the concept of female instability. Playful/sinister, joyous/sorrowing, orderly/chaotic - "Ballast" is as much about creating dichotomies as it is about analyzing them. It is about juxtaposition of stillness and movement and instances that feel like one thing but might be something entirely different.
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Chelsey VanderVliet recently graduated with Honors in Studio Art from Rollins College in Winter Park, FL. She currently lives and works in Jersey City, New Jersey. Working primarily in photography, her work investigates concepts of identity, authenticity and placement of self. She is fascinated by pathetic imagery, music culture, language as presence and unease in the familiar.
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1 Anne H. Soukanov, edit., Webster's II New Riverside Dictionary (The Riverside Publishing Company, 1984), 149.
2 Siobhan Bohnaker, “Jo Ann Callis's Color Work,” The New Yorker, March 6, 2014, http://www.newyorker.com/culture/photo-booth/jo-ann-calliss-color-work.
3 Ibid.
4 Ibid.
5 Ibid.
6 Ibid.
7 Ibid.
8 Ibid.