The order of things

Kalyke, Jupiter

Puck, Uranus

Prospero, Uranus

Mab, Uranus

Juliet, Uranus

Belinda, Uranus

Tarqeq, Saturn

Hyyrokkin, Saturn

Paaliaq, Saturn

Methone, Saturn

Pan, Saturn

Fornjot, Saturn

Dione, Saturn

Bergelmir, Saturn

Calypso, Saturn

Styx, Pluto

Triton, Neptune

Hydra, Pluto

Narvi, Saturn

Kerberos, Pluto

Nereid, Neptune

Thalassa, Neptune

Naiad, Neptune

Larissa, Neptune

Halimede, Neptune

Sinope, Jupiter

Thebe, Jupiter

Parsiphae, Jupiter

Aoede, Jupiter

Orthosie, Jupiter

Leda, Jupiter

Eurydome, Jupiter

Cordelia, Uranus

Kale, Jupiter

Elara, Jupiter

Stephano, Uranus

Karley Sullivan’s The Order of Things is a hand-drawn catalog of the moons of our solar system installed at ArtCenter College of Design. The exhibit includes the complete (to date) catalog of 180 drawings and a sculptural work commissioned for the show by the institution.

The first thing I see when entering the space is an antique wooden filing cabinet sprawled out on a table, its drawers emptied and (carefully) akimbo. Beside it is an opened stack of prints that the guard urges me to look through. The prints are reproductions of the 180 drawings installed on the wall, and on the back of each are hand-written notes about the moon that it represents. The notations are are a tumble of mythological, astrological, and scientific vocabulary that “floats” without deeper context: Hydra, Pluto: water ice, irregular shape, median reflectivity, outermost Plutonian satellite. Orbital period: 38. 2 days. 15 June 2005. Calypso, Saturn: To cover, conceal, deceive, subtle wily. Tries to keep Odysseus. March 13, 1980. Leda, Jupiter: Himalia Group. Seduced/abducted by Jupiter as swan. Mother of Castor and Pollux (Gemini). September 14, 1974.

On the wall next to the dissembled cabinet is a tight grid of moons. Standing in front of them, I experience a gravitational pull. I’m drawn into the matrix, deeper into each individual piece, then deeper still into the luminescent detail of every captured satellite. The drawings are made on scratchboard, lines cut and plains rise on the surface of the plates much like topographic features. There are blank plates every so often, left untitled and faceless.

The weight of the project is in Sullivan’s touch. Her physical force and control is embedded in the scratchings that have lifted charcoal from the underlying white chalky surface. This practice is not dissimilar to the role of the archeologist - one who clears dust off an ancient relic, brushing away organic matter so the object can be cataloged in the annals of human discovery, however imperfectly. Fine lines, frantic gashes, calm swirls, delirious specks, and intersectional hatchings displace the charcoal and excavate the board’s surface. Pockets of erasure create a remarkable sense of meditational intent.

This is no manifesto of celestial destiny. It is a collection of touches, some quirky, others delicate or aggressive, each mark breaking the surface like flicks of lights falling from the fingers of the moon.

Leah Clancy, 2018