Excellent exhibition! This beautiful 16mm film, A Story of Deception by Francis Alÿs is a real treat! A mirage was filmed on a desert highway in Patagonia; it explores the crossover between poetics and politics and gives a sense of attraction of utopia.
We are engaged with the movie in a very powerful way. We feel like we are walking down a long road between two fields. The road never seems to change, but we keep glimpsing something, close by, in the distance. Is there water on the road ahead? A town? The future flickers and shimmers, we are almost there, on the brink of something, then it vanishes into thin air. It's a mirage.
We are engaged with the movie in a very powerful way. We feel like we are walking down a long road between two fields. The road never seems to change, but we keep glimpsing something, close by, in the distance. Is there water on the road ahead? A town? The future flickers and shimmers, we are almost there, on the brink of something, then it vanishes into thin air. It's a mirage.
A film of boys skimming stones across water gives something of a clue to the artist's mind. You wonder how long these ricochets are likely to hold your attention; in no time, the evergreen possibilities of each attempt become enthralling. Children's Games is the title of the work, conjuring Pieter Bruegel's great painting of the same name.
My personal favourite is Tornado. The footage was gathered over a decade in the Mexican countryside and edited to make this intense video. The dust storm suggests the imminent collapse of the government or political order. The act of running into the storm, which we see repeated over and over, also invites interpretation: is artist no longer able to combat the chaos he encounters? Is he recognising the vanity of poetic gestures at a time of calamity?
Reaching the epicentre of the storm, the artist is breathless and almost blinded, yet he encounters a furtive moment of peace that could hint at a new moment of possibility...
My personal favourite is Tornado. The footage was gathered over a decade in the Mexican countryside and edited to make this intense video. The dust storm suggests the imminent collapse of the government or political order. The act of running into the storm, which we see repeated over and over, also invites interpretation: is artist no longer able to combat the chaos he encounters? Is he recognising the vanity of poetic gestures at a time of calamity?
Reaching the epicentre of the storm, the artist is breathless and almost blinded, yet he encounters a furtive moment of peace that could hint at a new moment of possibility...
Link to exhibition details: http://www.tate.org.uk/modern/exhibitions/francisalys/default.shtm
TURNER PRIZE 2010
This year's Turner Prize does not seem in any way sensational or obscure. There are no conflicts of interested and no art has been binned by mistake.
Popular and critically praised works by Dexter Dalwood and Angela de la Cruz have been shortlisted together by Susan Philipsz and others. Dexter Dalwood is a painter of strength and wit and I feel that his pictures touch upon the limits of the imagination. Angela de la Cruz's hanged canvases leave a little to imagination. They are single coloured and in some way 'distorted'. I quite enjoy contemporary art but Cruz's work didn't capture my senses the way Susan Philipsz did. Her sound installation, Lawlands Away, has a strong poignant sense of melancholy. A woman sings in a sweet voice Lawlands Away, which was played underneath of George V bridge in Glasgow as part of Glasgow International Festival. It was to commemorate all who lost their lives on this suicide hot spot. It is an old traditional sailor’s song and has been sung by everyone from Nick Cave to The Corries to Rufus Wainwright & Kate McGarrigle.
ROSA BARA - TATE Modern until 8th Jan 2011LOWLANDS AWAYI dreamt a dream the other nightCh. Lowlands, lowlands, away my JohnI dreamt a dream the other nightMy lowlands, away.I dreamt I saw my own true love,He stood so still, he did not move,[Alternative line: His hair was wet, his eyes above]I knew my love was drowned and dead,He stood so still, no word he said.All dank his hair, all dim his eye,I knew that he had said goodbye.All green and wet with weeds so cold,Around his form green weeds had hold.‘I’m drowned in the Lowland Seas,’ he said,‘Oh, you an’ I will ne’er be wed.’‘I shall never kiss you more,’ he said,‘Never kiss you more — for I am dead.’‘I will cut my breasts until they bleed.’His form had gone — in the green weed.My love is drowned in the windy Lowlands,‘I will cut away my bonnie hair,No other man will think me fair.’I bound the weeper round my head,For now I knew my love was dead.My love is drowned in the windy Lowlands…
Seductive quality display. You'll get to see interesting retro projectors! Sound production and main film work explores Robert Simithson's esque topography of a Mojave-desert racetrack. The moving image becomes repetitious after a while but there is certain authoritative energy of machinic processes in this installation.
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