MacGyver is an American TV series from the late 1980s. It follows Angus MacGyver, a secret agent who solves dangerous situations without using violence. In one episode, MacGyver is locked inside a metal container with only a candle, sugar, an ammunition box, and a metal tube. As the air runs out, he makes a smoke bomb from sugar and rust. Using the candle as a fuse and the tube to guide the smoke, he directs it toward an air sensor. The sensor automatically triggers the fire emergency lock. The door swings open, and MacGyver walks out.

The series MacGyver sometimes brings to mind the work of artist Zoro Feigl. In his practice, experimenting with everyday materials also takes center stage. He looks at things for what they could become, rather than what they were made for. His work radiates a sense of openness while being ingeniously constructed at the same time.

In the basement of Villa, you’ll find Phosphenes by Zoro Feigl. The title refers to the tiny spots of light you see when you close your eyes after looking into a light source. At the center of the room stands a circular sculpture filled with shimmering fabric and small mirrors, a piece of cloth that wouldn’t look out of place in a carnival shop. The fabric moves through a mechanism inside the sculpture. Light shining on this moving, sparkling fabric projects something like a starry sky onto the basement ceiling. Bright dots dance across the space, taking over the room.

In his work, Zoro Feigl captures natural phenomena and everyday occurrences in installations. He draws inspiration from, for example, the movement of a flock of starlings, the patterns of ripples in sand, or the light spots that dance on your retina after looking at a bright light. These are processes beyond our control. No matter how much we think we can master nature, no one can dictate how a flock of birds moves through the air. Zoro tries to capture that elusive movement and make it visible in his installations. For a moment, he gains control over the uncontrollable. But once his work literally starts moving, it escapes him again: the shiny sequins take their own path. His installations seem to develop a will of their own.

Watching

Watching Phosphenes, you know what’s going on. The fabric sways. The tiny mirrors scatter light across the ceiling. Yet something about it pulls you in. You can’t quite look away. Watching is important in Zoro’s work. He wants his works to be understood through the eyes and the body. “Watching is enough. I feel that a lot of art comes with a lot of talking, but a good work doesn’t need much explanation. Of course, a theory or text can add something, but an artwork should stand on its own even if the viewer hasn’t read the book.””[1]

Practical Beginnings

Zoro often starts his work from something practical and factual. “Many of my works are banal things that I enlarge and then try to make my own.” [2] For example, how liquid flows somewhere due to gravity. From this starting point, he created several rotating paintings with liquid paint. They are hanging conveyor belts on the wall, where paint-like liquid drips and is continuously rotated again. A moving painting where the paint never sets or stays in the same place. He then plays with the idea of infinity. His artworks have no end or narrative and only stop when he pulls the plug. And yet they are also about time—time that seems absent, but keeps ticking.

Air and Water

On the first floor of Villa, another work by Zoro hangs in front of the window, Fluid Fingers. The sculpture begins with something simple: the movement of air and liquid. It’s a subtle, rectangular piece made of two thin plates of tempered, reinforced glass, pressed tightly together with a viscous fluid in between. As the plates shift against each other, the air moves too, shaping the liquid into ever-changing forms. Light from the window filters through, turning the piece into something almost meditative. You understand what’s happening, yet you keep watching. This work needs little explanation because it comes directly from the world. And at the same time, the question arises: how does it work? “It’s remarkable that people ask, because when they see a waterfall, no one wonders how it works.”

Which everyday observations does Zoro find relevant to enlarge? What does he pay attention to? For him, a situation must be exciting. He first asks himself the ‘why’ question. “Why does water fall in a waterfall? There is a difference between asking how things work and asking why. Of course, you can explain that we know gravity, and therefore water falls in a waterfall. But if you think about what gravity really is, you don’t really know why it works that way. And that’s what I’m constantly trying to find out. The ultimate question within such an observation is more about why than just how.”[3]

Although Zoro wants to find a solution for every observation he makes, he doesn’t fully align with MacGyver and the idea of invention. He is more of an observer. Zoro sees something, takes it from the world, and, in a way, places it on a pedestal.

[1] https://www.mistermotley.nl/de-wereld-op-een-sokkel-zetten-gesprek-met-zoro-feigl/

[2] Idem

[3] Idem