The Outside World

MSCHF's "20,000 Variations On a Paper Plane in Flight"

May I continue to choose, and tell the universe who I am.

Dan Dickinson

Dan Dickinson

— 4 min read
MSCHF's "20,000 Variations On a Paper Plane in Flight"
"...cryptic notes that descend from heaven, each unique, to be picked up by some fated visitor..."
"20,000 Variations On A Paper Plane In Flight by MSCHF taps into the childhood nostalgia of toy kits, folding simple planes, and launching them from porches and playgrounds. Notably, the earliest paper planes are believed to have been designed by Chinese engineers 2,000 years ago, usıng a combination of bamboo and paper along with techniques for kite construction. The modern paper darts, as we know them today, only began to appear in American children's books around 1864.
In a tribute to the Lunar New Year, the gliders of 20,000 Variations are designed to resemble hongbao, traditional Chinese red envelopes stuffed with money and given as gifts during special occasions. A befitting aesthetic, as viewers witness these cascading vessels of currency in the former Citizens Savings Bank, a 1924 historic landmark built in NYC's Chinatown.
The performance consists of a seemingly infinite number of paper planes, whirling and diving as their trajectories explore the boundaries of a seven-floor atrium gallery. Imaginary contrails trace downwards from above, as the planes flutter down from the gallery's oculus, pausing briefly in front of the four one-word murals (Safety, Success, Thrift, and Wisdom), finally coming to a rest at ground level. The airborne choreography is set to Thousand Ripples, a soundscape by composer and pianist Yeonjoon Yoon. Performed on two Steinway pianos as a duet with himself, Yoon combines the live performance and autonomous playback with continuous replay and delay, resulting in an ever-evolving composition.
The session is completed when guests pick up a plane (or two) and carefully unfold it to reveal a single-word invocation, drawn from 5,000 of the most commonly used nouns in the English language. By the fact of their ubiquity, this set of words en masse forms a loose reflection of the world.
The red fleet of swirling energy that shapes 20,000 Variations reminds viewers that joy is all around us, as we wish each other prosperity in the year ahead."

(The above quoted show description, located on a wall near the entrance, is attributed to Karen Wong.)

I've admired MSCHF's spirit of weird boundary pushing for a while, so when a fairly traditional art performance invite came through their mailing list, I wondered if there was some sort of gimmick or catch.

Nope: just 42 minutes of pianos echoing off the old walls of 58 Bowery (now reborn as The Wang Contemporary; this was its opening event), with the last five minutes seeing hundreds of paper planes floating down from the rotunda. Most landed on the floor, some on top of the molding, and at least one in the large metal grids decorating the walls.

As there were only 18 scheduled performances (3 days ✕ 6 flights), the part of my brain that insists I memorialize life moments flared up. Events like these are fleeting; will I still remember the way I felt in a week, a month, a year? For the friends who couldn't make it, how could I describe this?

For lack of a better way, here's five minutes of video, equal parts quiet reflection and beautiful chaos:

I did grab four of the planes that had landed close to me (some people did stick to one, others were leaving the premises with double-digit stacks). The words, hidden under multiple folds, are labeled as an "INVOCATION FOR THE FUTURE":

EARTHQUAKE.

LEAVES.

SAND.

SYMPOSIUM.

As I (finally) fully unfolded the planes tonight to put this post together, I found another two paragraphs also tucked away, opposite the invocation:

"Yearly cycles create moments of anticipation that bring groups together. There's a kind of circadian rhythm to these gatherings, a heartbeat of the crowd-organism. The installation creates a version of this, a recurring happening that produces a natural cadence to the crowd dynamics within the space. We gather periodically; we look up in unison. Groups of people wax and wane throughout the year like phases of the moon or the selenic tides. The planes are oracular, requiring work to decipher. They are cryptic notes that descend from heaven, each unique, to be picked up by some fated visitor. They mean everything and nothing. Searching through the falling planes for a word that calls to you does not change your fate; in choosing, you tell the universe who you are."

May I continue to choose, and tell the universe who I am.

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