Tacita Dean: Film

In January I also saw Tacita Dean's Film the new Unilever installation in Tate Modern's Turbine hall.

I'm not usually one for video art, I often find it hit or miss but this one was a a hit for me. 

Photo: Joseph Keating, www.atsukojoe.wordpress.com

It inhabits the space with an almost monolitic quality, making me think of Arthur C Clarke's novel and Kubrick's film 2001: A Space Odyssey. The screens size in the space gives the projection epic proportions, something I found I only wanted to increase by sitting down and dropping my eye level. Like a cinema screen yet disproportionate, it fit well with the idea of portraying physical film stock. Showing not only the imagery but also the bits we don't see when film goes through a projector.

The scale also reflected iconic aspects to the building it inhabits namely the central chimney, made more obvious by the almost constant imagery that undercut the whole piece. This repeating imagery may have been part of the Tate Modern's chimney, it was difficult to be sure. While the architecture was unmistakably from the Tate Modern, it's exact location was difficult to ascertain. This worked better as while tied in wonderfully with the space, it didn't specify so loudly that it drowned out the other imagery.

This other imagery included added sections of moving image, often cut into the still background, as well as a combination of shapes and colour changes that subtly altered the nature of the film. One might expect it to say something about the nature of film, through the history and conventions of cinema (our most recognisable way into the format of film). In fact it was far more visceral than that, looking at the nature and physicality of film.

It's power came in the almost hypnotic influence it had on the space, something I've not felt since Olafur Elliasson's The Weather Project. From the ground it was immersive, but even from the bridge on the second level it was powerful, not only in it's presence but in the ability to people watch those so caught up in it. People that become (to return to a sci-fi reference) but black silhouettes against a bright backlight reminding me of the visiting aliens from Spielberg's Close Encounters of the Third Kind. 

Looking back at the viewers on the bridge

 

Apocalypse!

In January I made a trip to London to finally see the John Martin exhibition Apocalypse as well as a few other exhibitions. 

John Martin, The Great Day of his Wrath 1853

I haven't looked into John Martin since my degree. An obvious choice some might say as an influence for my work, however I really hadn't looked at him in any greater depth, mainly because while I was interested in him in general, I wasn't particularly interested in the religious significance of the apocalypse. Nor has history painting really held much importance for my work.

Individual exhibition rooms were based around a chronological system, charting his life through his work. The works themselves had as much impact as they must have had when they were first unveiled and it was interesting to learn that while popular with the public, Martin's works were lampooned by the critics.

Certainly many of his subjects had a historical or religious basis or inspiration, however although signs of the apocalypse that follow these inspirations are well known there was also certainly a significance for the time it was created. Scenes of fiery apocalypse echo that time of extreme change and industry.

Yet it is not all fiery apocalypse.

As well as the large paintings of implied death and destruction there are also images that are of seeming peace and tranquillity, showing the peaceful aftermath of the storm that brought the great flood or angels taking the good to heaven. There are even a number of small works that are more rural and of the natural landscape which owe more to Claude than the Bible.

In all though it is obviously the fiery apocalypse that is the focus of the exhibition. But it is great to see the breadth of the artists work. Many of the apocalyptic paintings have a certain sameness about them, especially the ones that rely on an almost exclusively red palette. Many as we know come from historical and/or Biblical stories and both of these work best when the subject of the story is placed in such a way to accentuate the emotion and drama. As such the feeling of the imagery being staged is almost inescapable. Indeed Martins works do feel staged, critics of the day commented on this glossiness, in fact the staged nature of the works was much greater than might be initially seen. Martin would also replace minor characters with important figures of his day, possibly highlighting something about these people in relationship to the parts they played in his paintings.

Certainly in an era that was embracing romanticism and the sublime, Martin gave the public the most spectacular and shocking portrayal. In many ways this extreme unreality reminds me of the nature of the postcard. Granted no one would be encouraged to visit these places but falseness they had in spades.

Even with this falseness the details are astounding. Harsh almost textural paint creates the most tiny of details. Sometimes the detail reveals more about a falseness of the image from over accentuated waves to lightning strikes that sit like knife and rule slashes in the fabric of the canvas. I found the lightning particularly odd until I realised that at this time society had only just leant what electricity was, additionally it was a phenomenon that lasted mere milliseconds with none or very little photographic information to reveal its detail and true nature. Martin would have to have relied on his own memory of such events, which would be flawed at best, as well as other potentially equally flawed renditions of it. In his later paintings the use of lightning has changed and appears far less angular and unnatural.

Finally a word should be said about the title, a title that both seems appropriate and over the top. Appropriate because he is very well known for his paintings of biblical destruction, however the exhibition is by no means just about these fiery images. It includes a range of works that describe the man as artist, but also as civil engineer, businessman, father and brother. His life was by no means an apocalypse but had it's ups and downs like anyone else. Maybe by calling it by a title that can never be lived up to (Apocalypse being the most spectacular of ends, but it is also one you don't come back from) it reminds us that he is just a man and is as apt to failure as anyone else. It also makes me think of the split between commercial and public success vs. the critical disdain his works produced.

In addition the timing of this exhibition seems highly coincidental. The choice of a time period that extends into the first few weeks of 2012, a year that has been highly publicised (even to the extent of having a film made about it) as the year that the Mayan people apparently predicted to be the end of the world. Again this choice seems to cash in on the publicity and hype surrounding this significant date making the work by a successful (for his time) commercial artist even more commercial. 

John Martin The Destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah 1852

But maybe my cynicism is showing through. All and all I liked it and found the works to be highly engaging and interesting. It was good to see the scope of his work and I found the imagery about a time long ago to be exciting and relevant to our age as much as it must have been to his. Which just goes to show that many of the stories from the bible ad history continue to resonate with us. While the specific historical nature of his works still don't appeal, this idea of themes that transcend history is something that does and is worth looking at within my practice.