|
Film-Philosophy Journal | Salon | Portal (ISSN
1466-4615) Vol. 8 No. 36, October 2004 |
|
|
|
|
|
Maria Walsh Lost in Space: _Jane and Louise Wilson_ _Jane and Louise Wilson_ With Essays by Jeremy Millar and Claire Doherty London: Ellipsis, 2000 ISBN 1-84166-027-2 84 pp., inc. 120 b/w photographs Contemporary film and video installation is a ubiquitous and diverse
field. Attempts to classify this field have produced phrases such as 'un
autre cinema' and a 'tertiary cinema'. [1] Tracing the genealogy of film and
video installation in the dematerialisation of the art object in the 1960s
and its affiliation to experiments in 1970s avant-garde film, the focus in
these discussions is on how film and video installation analyses and
deconstructs cinema as a genre. [2] The proximity of cinema and philosophy
tends to be left out in these discussions, partly because of the emphasis on
modernist notions of medium specificity latent in writing on film
installation and the related emphasis on how this *other cinema* deconstructs
cinematic language. Questions of subjectivity, crucial to aesthetics, seem to
be put on the back burner. _Jane and Louise Wilson_ is a minigraph of the artists' film and
video installation work. In other words, it is a monograph in miniature. The
book is part of a series of publications developed by Ellipsis and Film and
Video Umbrella devoted to artists from Britain who work in the area of film
and video. These publications are linked with 'Film and Video Artists on
Tour', a programme of public presentations by each of the featured artists --
however, the publishers claim that the minigraphs are nevertheless designed
to stand on their own. Given that the book is a mere 80 pages and is mostly
comprised of black and white images of the artists work as well as two short
essays, I thought it doubtful that it would redress the absence in much critical
writing of the interrelation of film and video installation and philosophy.
However, given the context of being asked to write a review of this little
book for _Film-Philosophy_, I expected that the essays might address aspects
of Jane and Louise Wilson's work that overtly have a bearing on philosophy.
And in some respects, albeit miniature ones, they do. Jane and Louise Wilson have been working for over a decade in the
field of film and video and photography, and this volume features the artists
work from 1993 to 1999. Their installations are characterised by split-screen
projections, the screens often comprising large multi-screen environments,
which create a kind of open cube within the gallery space. The architectural
form of their moving image work resonates with the architectural sites that
the images portray. The artists, who are twin sisters, have filmed at the
headquarters of East German intelligence in _Stasi City_ (1997), the houses
of parliament at Westminster in _Parliament, A Third House_ (1999), the
cosmonaut training facility outside Moscow in _Star City_ (1999), and the US
Air Force base at Greenham Common in _Gamma_ (1999). Their most recent and
most ambitious multi-screen environment, _A Free and Anonymous Monument_
(2003), included footage of Victor Pasmore's _Apollo Pavillion_ in Peterlee
New Town, just outside Gateshead in the North of England; two North Tyneside
factories (Atmel, who design and make computer chip wafers, and Cummins, who
produce engines); an oil rig in the North Sea; and an abandoned multi-story
car park again in Gateshead. The works from 1997 onwards are linked by an interest in the social
significance of architectural constructions; mostly to do with the utopias
and power structures signified by them. The ideologies of economics,
government, and leisure (and their embodiment in architectural constructions)
dwarf the human in their work. Human figures, most often the artists
themselves, are glimpsed on the margins as they walk in and out of shots,
sometimes levitating, or, in later pieces, occupied in work tasks, but never
confronting the viewer or taking centre stage. The human being seems
incidental to systems of power that seem to have a life of their own. In the
absence of definitive protagonists, the Wilsons' work allocates that role to
the viewer, although the rhythm and choreography of shots both impedes and
extends that allocation. Placed in relation to screens, which are presented
as near as possible 1:1 scale, the viewer is both lost in the labyrinthine spaces
of social power and also left stranded as a distanced observer gazing on the
spectacle of recent pasts and dystopic futures. The two essays in the book
encapsulate both these viewer positions. Jeremy Millar's essay, 'The Story So Far', is an experimental piece
of writing that, rather than trying to *write about* the Wilsons' work,
attempts to *write with* it, that is, to follow the sensations, reveries, and
peripatetic movements generated by encountering various pieces of their film
and video work. This seems apropos given that the Wilsons claim that their
work is 'about creating a physical environment, something which is more
sculptural in its description of space', and that the only 'narrative that
exists comes through our connections to the space we are filming'. [3]
Millar's text proceeds in separate themed fragments, the repetition of
different strands suggesting fragile connections between the various layers
of text that he interweaves. Some fragments take the form of a detective
story, the author a character who has been given the task to investigate what
turn out to be the spaces imaged in the Wilsons' film and video
installations. Citations from Edgar Allen Poe, Thomas de Quincey, and
Dostoyevsky highlight the sense of eeriness and paranoia induced by the
investigation, as 'Millar' creates a narrative that allows the reader to
follow him blindly through his armchair-travelling investigation of their
work. Other fragments of the text describe, without naming, particular
works by the Wilsons -- one shot, one scene, following another, different
works morphing into others, the subject/spectator/author losing his bearings
like Alice in Wonderland as he is submerged, swallowed even, by the images
that unfold in front of him. This virtual flaneur is accompanied by citations
from Eugene Minkowski's _Lived Time_ and Walter Benjamin's _Passagen-Werk_,
as he travels through the empty casino in the Wilsons' _Las Vegas, Graveyard
Time_ (1999) and the debris in the abandoned offices of the Stasi headquarters.
Beginning with the questions: 'So, where were we? Where did we get to?',
Millar's investigation performs a form of spatiality that resonates with
citations from Minkowski's _Lived Time_, describing the sensation of losing
the ego in dark space (8). This sentiment echoes Millar's description of an
'I' that moves through spaces, which in turn unfold into further series of
images that disperse before it. Millar's evocation of a continuously
displaced sense of location mirrors the experience of encountering the
Wilsons' kaleidoscopic environments, where one screen might show a panning
shot, while another simultaneously zooms upwards, creating tension and
contradiction, a kind of schizophrenic vision. Millar's text is a novel way of inserting the viewer/author into the
film work, taking up the demand/invitation to perform a narrative through the
spaces constructed and framed by the Wilsons' choreography. This kind of
writing, loosely termed *performative*, is quite fashionable in current
writing on the visual arts. [4] Much of this kind of writing can be
self-indulgent, bearing a tangential relation to the work it purports to
parallel or operate in tandem to. Millar's essay is a good example of how
this kind of writing can be illuminating, bearing a close, but not obvious,
relation the Wilsons' film work. However, to a reader unfamiliar with the
Wilsons' work, the text may seem simply obscure. The black and white
illustrations are unfortunate in that the Wilsons' use of colour is a very
considered and important aspect of their work. While Millar's text refers to
colour, the unfamiliar viewer/reader will completely miss out on the
intensity of the Wilsons' cinematic palette, while the familiar one will
falteringly attempt to recreate it in the mind's eye. In this sense _Jane and
Louise Wilson_ seems to be addressed to a viewer/reader familiar with their
work, and I would question the publishers claim that the book stands on its
own. Millar's reading of the Wilsons' work is particular to his viewing
of it and so it may seem futile to criticize it. (Much performative writing
gets away without critique due to its emphasis on the personal and supposed
authenticity of the authorial voice.) However, there are critical stakes
involved in Millar's emphasis on the imaginary dimension of travelling
through the work. His textual journeying seems to privilege a mental
imaginary and thereby occludes the strong physicality of the Wilsons' work.
The sculptural dimension that their work engenders, while invisible in the
sense of not existing as an object, is, to my mind, generative of affects of
density and weight and the tension between sensations of push and pull. The
choreography and doubling operative in their work disperses the viewer in
more than an imaginary direction. As one wanders through the field of
screens, one's stare transfixed yet split in many directions, the sensation
of being pulled and stretched across elongated expanses of infinite space,
subtended by sensations of falling into the floor and of ungrounded levitation
hits one. Rather than Minkowski, but not unrelated, Millar's text and my
memory of the Wilsons' work put me in mind of Merleau-Ponty's reflection on
the virtuality of embodied being in _The Visible and the Invisible_. For
Merleau-Ponty, the seer and the visible '*reciprocate one another and we no
longer know who sees and which is seen*'. [5] This sentiment echoes those of
Millar's text where images and viewer meld with one another. However, for
Merleau-Ponty there is a physical aspect to this imaginary dissolution. As he
says: 'What makes the weight, the thickness, the flesh of each colour, of
each sound, of each tactile texture, of the present, and of the world is the
fact that he who grasps them feels himself emerge from them by a sort of
coiling up or redoubling, fundamentally homogenous . . . *a whole virtual
center*'. [6] For me, the virtual aspect of the Wilsons' work impacts on the
viewer in an intensely physical way, plunging the body through gravity and
stretching it beyond geometric space. Claire Doherty's essay, 'Awaiting Oblivion', is a traditional text,
using philosophical ideas and concepts from Maurice Blanchot and Michel
Foucault, as well as applying the psychoanalytic concept of the uncanny to
evoke the unease generated by spatial doubling in the Wilsons' work. It is a
good contrast to Millar's text, being *about* the work rather than
*performing* it. It is informative and gives a compelling account of the
tension between control and resistance that features in the Wilsons' work.
The essay focuses on context and content, discussing the social and
historical background to work such as _Stasi City_ and _Gamma_. Doherty elaborates the shift in the artists' work from
using the human figure 'as a metaphor for the complicit subject', as in _Hypnotic
Suggestion 505_ (1993) where the artists allowed themselves to be filmed
under hypnosis, to an investigation of the 'depopulated sites' of the Stasi
headquarters and the US Air Force at Greenham Common (76). Where
Millar's text sought to follow the images and become immersed in their
unfolding, Doherty situates them in terms of the panopticon and Blanchot's
concept of a resounding silence that haunts the living. She also mentions the
viewer and the sense of being positioned at a point of multiple entries and
exits. However, the absence of anchors and the kaleidoscopic nature of the
Wilsons' work are discussed here in perfunctory terms. For Doherty: 'The
confusion engendered by the multiplicity of partial views replicates the
prisoner's psychological condition' (77). This seems limiting to me. There is
a slight obviousness in the reference to Foucault and the ascription of a
lack of agency to the viewer. Perhaps the confusion engendered by the
multiplicity of partial views can be read differently. Perhaps this confusion
opens up a gap in the prevailing image of power, a gap which generates the
unpredictability of agency rather than the predetermination of space by
dominant power structures. Millar's text suggests this possibility. _Jane and Louise Wilson_ is a useful mini-guide to the Wilsons' film
and video installation work, with interesting contrasts between the
accompanying essays that make one consider the stakes involved in art
criticism. Millar's text is particularly valuable in this regard as it shows
how experiential and textual experimentation can be used to think through the
specificity of film installation -- in this case, its multi-screen
environment, its discontinuous and contradictory editing, the lack of plot
development, and the emphasis on the image to carry meaning. This form of
writing follows the ethos of the film installation, where the viewer becomes
a character, and the narrative their investigation of the imaged presentation
of space and time. Lost in space, the viewer is carried away on the virtual
unfolding of images, while simultaneously relocated in a social space where
the perspective has slightly shifted. Chelsea College of Art and Design University of the Arts, London 1. Chris Dercon, 'Gleaning the Future from the Gallery Floor',
_Senses of Cinema_, no. 28, Sep/Oct 2003 <http://www.sensesofcinema.com/contents/03/28/gleaning_the_future.html>,
accessed 15 October 2003. French theoreticians and artists' film advocates
Raymond Bellour and Jacques Ranciere refer to 'un autre cinema', while artist
Mark Lewis speaks of 'a tertiary cinema'. 2. See for example Jean-Christophe Royoux's 'Remaking Cinema' and
Jaap Guldemond's 'Contemporary Art and the Cinematic Experience', in _Cinéma,
Cinéma_ (Eindhoven: Stedelijk van Abbemuseum, 1999). 3. Jane and Louise Wilson, quoted in Carlotta Graedel Matthai,
'Statement/Description', <http://www.spacearts.info/en/db/get_artist.php?ide=52>,
accessed 30 July 2004. 4. One of the most compelling examples of performative writing in
film studies is Lesley Stern's _The Scorsese Connection_ (London: British
Film Institute; and Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press,
1995). 5. Maurice Merleau-Ponty, _The Visible and the Invisible_, trans.
Alphonso Lingis (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1968), pp. 139. 6. Ibid., pp. 114-115. Copyright © Film-Philosophy 2004 Maria Walsh, 'Lost in Space: _Jane and Louise Wilson_',
_Film-Philosophy_, vol. 8 no. 36, October 2004
<http://www.film-philosophy.com/vol8-2004/n36walsh>. |
|
|
|
|
|
Save as Plain Text Document...Print...Read...Recycle Join the _Film-Philosophy_ salon, and receive the journal articles
via email as they are published. here Film-Philosophy (ISSN 1466-4615) PO Box 26161, London SW8 4WD, England Contact the Editor (remove Caps before
sending) Back to the Film-Philosophy homepage |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|