Chris Olsen: My Galveston

In Chris’s words:
In the year 1900, Galveston, Texas was turned inside out by the deadliest storm in American history. Prior to the storm, Galveston was the second richest city per capita in America and was a cultural hub of the Gulf. In one night, the infrastructure of Galveston was completely deconstructed. Wood frames of homes adorned the streets, and thousands of lives were lost. The identity of Galveston was forever changed. I have never been to Galveston. I have no connection to the city. This is my Galveston of the heart.

The seed of this project started with sound. It started with foley. I was interested in how foley devices could be both childlike in their construction and convincing in their illusion making. I initially wanted to work only from a place of sound, however, I found that some sort of narrative (apparent or not to the viewer) could function like an invisible string through my making. In an attempt to have the work expand, I attached a historical event to use as a framework, or a score. Through a quick internet search, I came across the Great Storm of 1900. This is the deadliest storm in American history, and I had no knowledge of it. I started to question why this event hadn’t been as culturally retained as other catastrophic American events. How did time forget Galveston? How had the storm slowly faded? In an attempt to work through these questions, a relationship formed between me, my work, and Galveston. As I worked on the foley devices, among other sculptures in the show, questions would come up – What noises could have been there? What did things look like there? How did the people live? The absence that had been opened from the storm became a frame in which I attempted to fill in blanks. The absence opened up an imaginary space. While researching Galveston and the storm on the Internet, when engaging with historical tragedy and true loss, I faced a certain coldness in my understanding of the event. I wasn’t searching for Galveston, but rather, I was constructing my own Galveston. This Galveston was always changing. Sometimes it was three-dimensional and sometimes it was flat. What I chose to research, what I chose to skim, what I chose to detail… These were all decisions that created an environment and history that was tailored to my own interests. This environment I constructed, much like the modern day pier in Galveston, prioritizes play. This show functions like a philosophical puzzle to me. Most simply put, each work in the show is a kind of attempt at getting closer to understanding the relationship between loss and imagination, between an interior chaos and exterior solidity.