FIXATE
Review by Esther Pierini.
Publication - Art Monthly Online
November 28, 2000
'Fixate' is an exhibition of three works by four artists (two
in collaboration) at the George Paton Gallery, the gallery
of The University of Melbourne Student Union. The gallery is
an intimate L shaped space, and on this occasion it is lit
only by the light emanating from the video projections that
form part of each of the three works. In the essay accompanying
the exhibition, curator Kate Rhodes links the works conceptually
through the idea of surveillance, suggesting that they mimic
certain processes of surveillance through the use of video
and sound recording.
Surveillance is a concept that has been extensively plundered
by artists and curators since the inception of video recording
technology. At its most extreme, surveillance suggests actions
that are covert, intrusive and perhaps even unethical. As Rhodes
points out, in recent years there has developed a social anxiety
around the more intrusive possibilities of video surveillance.
In 'fixate', however, any act of surveillance is much less
devastating and the works do not make any political or even
moral assertions. Surveillance is a convenient concept to link
the work curatorially and is used in its most benign form.
More significant is the relationship each work sets up with
the viewer, and the role of the camera in mediating the viewing
experience that Rhodes touches on in the essay. It is Natasha
Johns-Messenger's work that most obviously involves an act
of surveillance on behalf of the viewer. She makes viewing
boxes that are at once magical and quite ordinary. These beautifully
constructed objects use mirrors and angles to capture views
of the environment in which they are situated. Johns-Messenger
mounts the boxes around her chosen site, often in a sequence
that reflects the position of other boxes, creating a kind
of Chinese whisper of reflections and having the potential
to involve a number of viewers simultaneously.
At the George Paton Gallery she has mounted one viewing box
at eye height, halfway along a wall of the gallery so the viewer
is looking towards the adjoining wall. Looking into the box,
I take a moment to recognise that what I see is a real-time
image of the forecourt to the union building in which the gallery
is situated. (I later learn from the catalogue essay that the
image is captured with a video camera through the plaster wall.)
The angle of the reflected image in relation to my knowledge
of the gallery's architecture is unexpected- this moment of
confusion is Johns-Messenger's game. I only make sense of the
image in the box by considering the position of my whole body
in relation to the interior and exterior of the gallery environment.
Even if I could not identify the image I see in the box, it
would make no sense to me initially because it is mounted halfway
along a gallery wall.
Juxtaposed with the viewing box is a video projection onto
a piece of glass mounted upright on the floor- about the size
of a medium-sized TV screen- of the same real-time scene viewable
in the box. The difference between the viewing experiences
feels significant. The image projected on to the glass has
the grainy quality of video surveillance footage and the experience
feels quite passive, as if I'm watching a TV screen. The viewing
box is a more concentrated and voyeuristic experience, forcing
the viewer to peer closely into the box as if looking through
a peephole. But there is no footage recorded from either the
box or the projection, and the only memory of the scene is
in the mind of the viewer. In each case the view is rather
uninteresting and too far away to identify people clearly.
Johns-Messenger denies the viewer a more intimate voyeuristic
experience.
'Escape' by Elissa Goodrich and Gabby O'Connor links video
and memory in another way by recording the sites and sounds
of the urban environment in close and abstracted detail. The
projection on to the gallery floor shows rapidly changing images
that are abstract and colourful. The audio component is a hybrid
of urban sounds, taking the viewer on a frenetic tour of an
unspecified city. The work, initially shown as a public artwork
under the portico of the Melbourne Town Hall earlier this year,
feels less successful in the gallery space. At that outdoor
site, with the sounds of city traffic and the public walking
over it, the work appealed more strongly to its original inspiration:
the flux, colour and sounds of the city. In the gallery space,
it feels out of context and the echo of the city from which
it takes its inspiration is less able to be heard.
Like 'Escape', Briele Hansen's
work 'still' also closely documents a site using
video and sound. In 'still' however, close scrutiny
of the site- a gravel country road- is made through
repeated filming. Standing in front of the life-sized
projection, it is as if I am walking down a gently
curving, gravel road in the country, flanked on
one side by trees and the other by views to the
horizon. But I am certainly not in control: the
image jerks slightly as if the camera is hand-held,
and then suddenly there is an edit and I am moving
down the same road but in what appears to be a
different direction. When I finally put on the
work's headphones, I hear the familiar sound of
shoes crunching over gravel and the 'empty' sound
of the countryside with a few birds singing intermittently
and the occasional muffled sound of the video microphone.
This video has a cinematic presence due in part
to the size of the projection, but also how it
builds a feeling of anticipation - if not quite
suspense set up through its moody, late afternoon
light and slow, determined forward movement of
the camera. For the first few minutes of the
video I expect some kind of disruptive event
to upset the serene country vista before me -
but nothing happens. There is no narrative and
there is no 'happening', and the repetitive nature
of the scene, flipping between different though
repeated sections of the road, has the effect
of concentrating and drawing out the focus of
my imagined walk along the country road while
also lulling me into a distracted state. This
enjoyable experience is well recognised as fulfilling
the mesmerising potential of the moving image.
Hansen's repeated recording of one site- in this
case a country road in Tuscany- evokes a slow
back and forth but circular journey somewhat
like a video loop.
The works in 'fixate' relate comfortably to each other. They
draw attention to the act of perception, highlighting the viewer's
position in the gallery environment and the processes and implications
of the act of looking. |