January 11—March 30, 2025
Powers of Ten is a mid-career exhibition of light and media artist James Clar (born in the United States, lives and works in Manila, Philippines). It includes major works by the artist created between 2011 and 2024, including cyanotype banners produced on-site at the iconic Eames House in the Pacific Palisades, which will be shown for the first time at the Weisman.
In this interview, guest curator Larissa Kolesnikova speaks with the artist about his layered approach to working with light, technology, and systems of measurement, as well as how the cultural legacy of designers Charles and Ray Eames has inspired his own work.
Larissa Kolesnikova: You have lived and exhibited around the world, in places such as Dubai, New York, San Francisco, Manila, Houston, Istanbul, Dublin, Barcelona, Seoul, Mumbai, Frankfurt, and so on. This is your first museum solo show in Los Angeles. How are you feeling about showing your work in L.A. and what excites you about this audience?
James Clar: It’s exciting to present work to an audience that is exposed to the film and television industry. Whether or not they are actively engaged in it, these narratives and the systems that create it overlap the city.
I studied film and animation at New York University. Although I later transitioned into sculptural light and video installations, my approach to art-making has its roots in narrative storytelling and the experience of time, both essentials of the film medium.
Also, the transition away from film and into becoming a light artist was of course inspired by pioneers like James Turrell and the Light and Space movement. While I evolved toward technological light systems and their influence on personal and cultural identity, the physics of light remain the same even if the system that delivers it is different.
LK: We met in Dubai in 2007 and have worked on many projects ever since, while continuously moving around the globe. This particular exhibition has been an exciting journey since its inception. As curator of Powers of Ten, I wanted to bring your work to L.A. with a specific meaning and connection to the local art community, its vibrant history, and its sophisticated school of thought. When I reached out to the Eames Foundation about collaborating with us, the project gained extra dimension, bringing on board the Eames House, Charles and Ray’s legacy, and their groundbreaking work. Please share how collaborating with the Eames family has influenced the site-specific works you created for this show.
JC: Working with the Eames family to develop these site-specific pieces has been an incredible journey. I’ve been speaking directly with Eames Demetrios and Lucia Atwood, the grandchildren of Charles and Ray, and it’s clear how artistic thinking is rooted in their family. They immediately understood how Charles and Ray’s work, with their creative use of new technologies, was influential for my own artmaking process. They appreciated my intention to treat the Eames House as an active collaborator, like a character with its own history and story, to bring significance to the artwork we created.
Using large cyanotype banners, we captured the natural sunlight passing through the Eames House windows. The exposed banners (which will be hung
in the museum) recreate the outline of their windows on a 1:1 scale. I was interested in the grid of the windows at the Eames House and how they create these sections of natural light from the world outside, like a system of measurement.
Additionally, the fabric of the banners is jusi fabric made from abaca fibers, which is locally sourced from the Philippines. This fabric is often used in ceremonial barong clothing. I liked the idea of recreating the image of the windows onto semitransparent cloth, so you can see through the windows of the artwork itself. With the segments made from captured sunlight that’s been historically “filtered” through the Eames House architecture, and impressed onto the locally sourced fabric from the Philippines, in some ways this artwork becomes a conversation about systems of measurement and their implications on cultural identity.
LK: Working with light and technology, your work explores and brings attention to information systems that you observe in daily life, allowing us to discover new ways of perceiving reality. You studied film and have three patents in electrical systems. A rare skill set for an artist! How has this journey of getting deep into art from a seemingly businessor engineering-oriented background transformed your life?
JC: For me, potential is a central train of thought—both in my artistic practice and personal philosophy. What is the potential for this material to communicate? What is the cultural potential for a person or a nationality? What systems form these thoughts, and how do we understand these systems in order to navigate or alter their meaning?
It’s interesting to think about where our assumptions for meaning originate— how cultural and social systems shape our thoughts, actions, and sense of identity.
My undergraduate degree was in film, and I received my master’s in media art. It was there I started thinking about film as a light system, a technology. I became interested in basic electrical systems and how they might control light. To me these technologies offer new modes of communication, and art is about creating conceptual information systems, regardless of whether the medium is technological.
LK: You grew up in Wisconsin in a Filipino diaspora family as one of four siblings, but from there you’ve moved around the globe and actively participated in various art communities, including the one in Manila, where you are now based. How have these last four years of living in the Philippines informed your practice?
JC: Relocating to the Philippines during the pandemic has been incredibly educational. Each place I’ve lived—New York, Dubai, Tokyo—has shaped my artistic approach, but being here, in my family’s country of origin, has made this period especially personal. It’s been a journey of understanding my family’s cultural heritage and exploring how it weaves into my work. I’ve gained a much deeper appreciation for the nuances of local Filipino culture and have come to recognize the meaningful distinctions between diaspora and local Filipino identities. Both experiences are authentic and valuable, yet there is a need to build bridges between
IT’S INTERESTING TO THINK ABOUT WHERE OUR ASSUMPTIONS FOR MEANING ORIGINATE —HOW CULTURAL AND SOCIAL SYSTEMS SHAPE OUR THOUGHTS, ACTIONS, AND SENSE OF IDENTITY.
these perspectives to foster understanding and connection across the global community.
Filipino culture is so deeply layered and textured with its complex colonial history and large diaspora community. It is not something that can be resolved, but experienced and observed within one’s own art practice. Because of my own upbringing, I try to take an approach that is more culturally global since I have lived and practiced in various global cities.
LK: Let’s zoom in on the title of the exhibition, Powers of Ten. I want to hear all of the associations that come to mind when you hear these three short words.
JC: The title of the exhibition is a direct reference to the film Powers of Ten by Charles and Ray Eames done in collaboration with IBM. It’s a phenomenal short film made in 1977 using the latest film and animation technologies at the time, and really is about systems of measurements
I’M TRYING TO UNDERSTAND WHAT I SEE, HOW I’M SEEING IT, AND WHAT IT MEANS TO THE INDIVIDUAL AND TO THE BROADER CULTURE.
and how we quantify reality from micro to macro scale. And that’s what this show is largely about: how we see reality and how technology influences the way we perceive and experience it.
Technology creates new systems for measurements and ways we can experience reality, and I think that’s something that’s been consistent throughout my career. I’m trying to understand what I see, how I’m seeing it, and what it means to the individual and to the broader culture. However, there are experiences of reality that are harder to quantify: emotional reality, dream reality, etc. These are just as important as the realities that science and technology have an easy time measuring. My art practice lies between the two realms.
LK: The earliest works in this exhibition date back to 2011, covering 13 years of your career.
They include works from shows in New York and Dubai, commissioned works, and site-specific works produced here in L.A. Do you have any favorites you want to highlight for our audience?
JC: I was happy to include the early work Increasing Resolution from your collection in this show. It shows light being split into its three primary colors and then added together increasingly until we get the full spectrum.
Cloud Seed, Under Lamppost, and Methane Waves are all artworks that deal with simulations of water in various forms, either as rolling waves, falling rain, or condensation. I was interested in these natural systems and trying to capture their visual poetry through generative technologies. They exist separate from the linear narrative form of film. It’s a suspended moment that allows you to move outside of our reality into a meditative state as you watch the waves pass by, rain passing through the cone of light in a streetlight, or your image reflected within a falling drop of water
Left: Sunlight Filtered through the Eames House (Oct 30, 10:20am), 2024, cyanotype on jusi fabric.
Right: The Lawnmower Man, 2016, projector, seamless video loop, lightbulb, microcontroller.
condensing on a windowpane.
The smaller gallery space is dedicated to the Japanese professional video gamer series I did, Beyond the Uncanny Valley, wherein I interviewed top-level professional video gamers about their dreams while they sleep. It was interesting to see that their subconscious dream-space was often of the virtual space they are exposed to while awake. So you have this nested egg effect, where the nonphysical reality of the virtual space is inside the nonphysical reality of their dreams. I filmed them in a penthouse in Tokyo lounging in bed, on a couch, or in a bubble bath, all spaces that suggest an escape from this reality.
I’ve also included The Lawnmower Man in the entrance, which is a small projection of a light switch that will control the physical light of the museum. I filmed myself turning on and off a light switch; with a small projector, I’m displaying that image at real size on the entrance wall. A small computer is connected to the projector that controls the light bulb on the ceiling so it blinks at the same time as the video, making it look like the virtual light switch is controlling the physical light bulb. Additionally, this is done in morse code where I’m signing my name in blinking lights.
The title The Lawnmower Man is a reference to the 1992 film and story by Stephen King wherein a man enhances his mental capabilities through training in VR but it gets out of control. It escalates to the point where they think he dies by overdoing the virtual brain augmentations, but in actuality he left his physical body by uploading his consciousness to the internet. In the final scene of the movie they reveal this as he makes all the phones in the world ring at the same time. And that’s where I think we are now in society, where the virtual world has an increasing effect on our physical world.
LK: This exhibition has a
special meaning for me, as I always consider the local and global impact of things and how they affect communities. I would like to hear your thoughts on this, especially given our shared experience building, co-creating, and influencing the Dubai art community between 2005 and 2013.
JC: For me, it’s all about creating meaningful impact and nurturing dialogue with communities, encouraging them to explore and think differently about artistic processes. Some cities are already saturated with art initiatives, but other places can deeply benefit from this engagement. After 15 years in New York, I moved to the Philippines to be part of a conversation around what Filipino art could become. Before that, I chose to establish myself in Dubai, similarly aiming to engage with the local community in a dialogue around culture and the arts. These experiences have shown me that fostering connections in places with untapped creative potential can spark powerful, transformative discussions—an approach I deeply value as an aspect of being an artist.
LK: You are raising a daughter, while I am raising two sons. What is the most important message about art that you want our kids and their generation to carry forward?
JC: What I love about art is that it validates each person’s unique perspective. It allows our ways of thinking, feeling, and seeing the world to be recognized and expressed as meaningful and real. For my daughter, Miu, I want her to understand that art is about choices— the choice to decide what elements of the world she values and wishes to reflect. This freedom to think and create in a way that is true to oneself is rare outside the realm of art. Yet, with that freedom comes the challenge: the responsibility to push boundaries, to attempt something new, to find and shape her own language. That’s both the gift and the demand of art—the opportunity to freely express herself, paired with the courage to continually explore and innovate.
WHAT I LOVE ABOUT ART IS THAT IT VALIDATES EACH PERSON’S UNIQUE PERSPECTIVE.
THAT’S BOTH THE GIFT
AND
THE
DEMAND OF
ART THE OPPORTUNITY TO FREELY EXPRESS HERSELF, PAIRED WITH THE COURAGE TO CONTINUALLY EXPLORE
AND INNOVATE.
LK: James, it has been a joy and privilege to know you for 17 years as your friend, collaborator, collector, and curator. I hope this exhibition will be an important stepping stone for your continued success in Los Angeles and globally. Is there anything you would like to add as we conclude our conversation?
JC: Yes, I want to thank you Larissa for making this happen! It’s great to have a friend and supporter who has seen my practice evolve over the years and in different cities. Thank you to Andrea Gyorody and the Weisman Museum, and to Eames Demetrius, Lucia Atwood, and the Eames Foundation for their generous support in creating these new artworks for the show. I also want to send love and thanks to my parents Rosemary and Alberto, siblings Alex and Annabel, my late brother Nick, and to Miu and Kanae. Special thanks to my partner, Tami Lim Ledesma, and also some of the key people who have believed in me through the decades: Rami Farook, Joseph Stojan, Angelle SiyangLe, Antonia Carver, Yng-Ru Chen, Todd Holoubek, Zach Lieberman, Molmol Kuo, Sara Raza, Alex Czetwertynski, Jane Lombard, Lisa Carlson, Katey Acquaro, Isa Lorenzo, and Rachel Rillo. Thank you.
Still
ABOUT THE ARTIST
JAMES CLAR (b. 1979, Wisconsin, US; lives and works in Manila, Philippines) is a light and media artist interested in new technological production processes and their application to artistic narrative forms. His works use the information systems that saturate our daily existence, provoking contemplation on how they shape our understanding of culture and ourselves. By understanding light and the ways we see, his artistic lens explores the modulating effects of perception and narrative dynamics.
Clar has been an artist in residence at Eyebeam Atelier in New York, Fabrica in Italy, and the FedEx Institute of Technology/Lantana Projects in Memphis. His artwork has been included in exhibitions at the Cantor Arts Center (Stanford, California), Asia Society Texas (Houston), Glucksman Museum (Dublin), New Museum of Contemporary Art (New York), Pera Museum (Istanbul), Can Framis Museum (Barcelona), MACBA (Barcelona), and SeMA (Seoul). He has been commissioned to develop large-scale installations for the Ayala Museum (Manila), 21c Museum Hotels (Oklahoma), Parasol Unit Foundation for the Arts (United Kingdom), and Fraport Headquarters (Frankfurt).
