May 11, 2014 § 2 Comments
Richard Mosse, Still from The Enclave (detail), 2012–13, 16mm infrared film transferred to HD video, 39:25 mins. Courtesy: The artist and Jack Shainman Gallery.
I recently saw The Enclave, Richard Mosse with sound by Ben Frost, at CoFA Gallery in Sydney – and it was beautiful. In a large dark room six large screens all set apart from each other but all related, the internal four forming walls with two side flanking sceens diverting your attention with corresponding and contrasting images.
What I loved was the alternation between absurdity and normalcy. Some of the sequences looked staged, while others were so unique they could only have been of the moment. Aspects of lives that build around violence.
Seeing everything from low long sweeps of the landscape, to different urban centers of the Congo, to watching a local talent show, a funeral, a house moving. The remains of dugout houses of militia(?), hidden high on a mountain lookout. A rushing river and a bridge. The infrared film and use of stedicam give the images this smooth and otherworldly appearance, as if I was there as a sort of apparition.
The work was masterful in building suspense and tension for a moment that never came. I was left wondering what was I expected to be scared of? Was the tension indicative of the time, or have I been conditioned to align feelings with these kinds of scenes – people in uniforms, rhythmic sound, weapons, hiding and reveal.
February 25, 2014 § Leave a comment
Issue 08 is now available to download at www.invisiblecity.org. Cover by Ioana Cîrlig.
Featuring work by Nine Eglantine Yamamoto-Masson, Shaun Fraser, Ioana Cîrlig, Gal Amiram, Justin Tyler Tate, Todd Anderson Kunert, Jolene Mok, Kara J Schmidt, Olivier Scher, Tim Van Der Meer, prOphecy sun, Ben McGee, Lilian Kreutzberger, Alexa Black, Ryan Hogan, Jon Henry, Christine Mackey, Yuula Benivolski, Leah DeVun and Ann Deslandes.
November 17, 2013 § Leave a comment
Jessica Tremp || Nora Wendl & Jeremy Hanson || Lidia Malynowskyj || Léa Donnan || Alex Hogan || Marianne Dages || Lee Salomone || Philippe Braquenier || Margaret Bowes || Philip Samartzis || Sarah Burwash || Andrew Ranville || Rashanna Rashied-Walker || Melody Woodnutt & Judy Thomas || Justin Apperley || Stephen John Ellis || Katelyn Clark || Yongjae Kim
Cover image by Sarah Burwash
Download the issue at http://invisiblecity.org
INVISIBLE CITY is an online magazine dedicated to showcasing contemporary visual art, sound and film by emerging artists from Australia and around the world. Issues are themed (sometimes).
August 13, 2013 § Leave a comment
Working with a Melbourne company, Delta Neon, to make this Prophetess Mountain sculpture. It’s not a medium I have worked with before, but I have often thought about it. The neon works perfectly to give a mystical charge to the shape of Spákonufell, and of course the neon glow of the mountain covered in snow, blinding days. If it goes well I will work on my next ideas working with images and writing from Iceland using neon and metallic photographic prints.
Now to get a new computer and video editing software to begin on the several films I have sketched out for some upcoming video art festivals.
June 27, 2013 § Leave a comment
I opened a book tonight. In it I found flowers I had saved, pressed between the sheets. Found flowers again found in America, wildflowers. Yellow, yellow, purple, maybe a muted green.
In the book also I had written:
Vespertine. Attenuated. Alluvial. Coalesces. Penumbral. Redolent.
Time becomes ecstatic. Temporal expansion. Revelation that eludes temporal time. Sediment of misery. Indifference.
Sediment of misery. That stuck with me. It felt murky, and unlike words I would ever say. Where would I have experienced such a sediment. It must have been some American inspiration, words to help me see what others had seen. Anyway. Sally Mann, those are her words. Describing the pull of her images and process in Deep South.
I sometimes worry photography is too realistic, too hyperreal. With digital and all. I m iss the exchange with light, the murkiness, the unabsolute. Using time and intensity and pitch and chemicals and silver and shadow and forbearance, filters, glass, aspects of light as the day passes, accidents of chemistry, accidents of mechanics. Age of materials, indecision, sabotage. Which make something real of the moment, unique, manipulated, tools and materials. 8 hours to get that image right in the darkroom. Alone with the image, with my hands on it, watching it bolt red hot from lens to paper. Feeding the chemicals. Looking for the grain. Plus then minus the magenta (strongest) or yellow (weakest).
Breathing all the time. Camera breaths, darkroom breaths, print breaths.
Sediment of my memory.
June 21, 2013 § 2 Comments
Film documentation of my installation A place prepared for sleep / Staður undirbúin fyrir svefn. 01:10, June 2013.
This film shows the delicate nature of the piece, specifically how each string corresponds with its neighbour – coalescing, diverging, moving in accord with the wind. In the background you can hear the waves of the Greenland Sea and birds calling.
The piece is situated on the cliffs of a peninsula, and the wind can have a strong affect on the waves of the sea in this area. A stronger wind produces vibrant movement by the strings, and also a corresponding louder soundscape from the sea. In time the sounds and the movement of the strings start to share a symbiosis.
It is at this point, at the realisation of the connection, that I start to focus off each specific string. It becomes part of my larger field of vision. The exploration of liminality in this piece, is how it draws out the space between the sound and physicality of a space. How the piece gives visibility to the surrounding sounds (which change), and gives audibility to that which is invisible in a sense (the way the wind passes over a certain place, the space just above the ground).
A place prepared for sleep marries these ‘in between’ aspects and in turn gives the space a grounding, or physicality. From there we can look at collectivity, and how we might share liminal spaces with others.
Documentation above by the inspiring Yogan Muller.
Please view in HD, headphones recommended.