Banks of Noon at Some Clouds Los Angeles
LUCEM DEMONSTRATE UMBRA /It is light that makes a shadow
May I have the time? To ask for the time is to seek context for the moment; to tell time is to make it—by assigning meaning to the earth’s path through the sun’s light. As the summer solstice in the Northern Hemisphere draws near, the days lengthen until the sun appears to be directly overhead, at its northernmost latitude: the Tropic of Cancer. Sunlight is abundant, and time with it.
The faces of Cameron Cameron’s sundials tell time, but they also make time. Each sundial is a composite of images, texts, and miniature adornments drawn from Cameron’s collection of found objects (Delicates, 2019-ongoing). Hunting dogs pulled from 18th century Dutch paintings, snakes, butterflies, and poems are embedded in the sundials’ faces; insect wings glimmer on them like charms. Gathered on the banks of the LA river, Cameron’s sundials are like a collection of luminescent UFOs or a gaggle of Roombas, poised to float or fly south.
With each bright round I imagine a portal: to long days and white nights, to a re-enchanted world.
— Kate Rouhandeh