Azza El Siddique

Every sound reverberates in Azza El Siddique’s “Echoes to Omega.” The room-size installation is a cavern in the Mattress Factory’s basement gallery—one can hear the creaking made by footsteps from the floor above. Water dribbles in tiny gossamer drops onto the heads of each bisque-fired bust depicting ancient Egyptian noblewoman Lady Sennuwy. The artist placed each of these six sculptures in a pool of water. Everything in this space feels sacred, immemorial, numinous.

To enter the show, one has to walk over a steel-mesh structure above the room’s actual floor. This element reminds us of the separation between us and the art we experience. Traversing it gave me the impression of floating above the ground. At times, the water sputters, evoking the fountains and shrines where humankind has attempted to exalt nature, the divine, and its own creation. The mesh will oxidize and transform during the exhibition’s yearlong run. In the pools holding the busts you can see flashes of orange on rusted metal from that corrosion—ocher rivulets that appear as though invisible claws were dragged across the steel.

It’s worth kneeling in front of the statues of Sennuwy to get at their eye level. But the highlight of the exhibition is the olfactory experience. When Shohei Katayama’s “As Below, So Above” inhabited the space the year prior, it smelled like limestone. El Siddique gives it the smoky, intoxicating smell of sandaliya, which has been infused into the water. This oil is used in Sudanese Muslim burials, which makes one wonder—who or what is this exhibition in mourning of? “Echoes to Omega” manages to be both somber and elegant, foreboding and awe-inspiring.