Showing posts with label Phillipe Parreno. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Phillipe Parreno. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Chronicles of a Disappearance - Good art that hurts


Grief and loss and difference are contemporary realities shared across societies and cultures worldwide. “Chronicles of a Disappearance”, a new exhibition at DHC/ART in Montreal, explores these difficult issues through the work of international artists Phillipe Parreno, Taryn Simon, Teresa Margolles, Omer Fast and Jose Toirac as each provides a view into abscence and disappearance as subject. All five of these acclaimed artists, in making the gaps in existence tangible, challenge the viewer to engage with their own state of being as reflected by a lack of something else.

Taryn Simon, a New York photo-based artist, in her An American Index of the Hidden and Unfamiliar, presents a series of stunningly shot photographs of worlds hidden and marginalized within American society. Enigmatic stills of deformed show animals, nuclear waste storage sites, CIA art collections and death row exercise yards are paired with dense and detailed text panels illuminating the images. The small print text requires an intimate closeness for most viewers, implicating us in the content and forcing an identification with either the marginalized or the power base. These hidden places and stories, integral to the function and dysfunction of American society, are unknown and unseeable but through the artist’s lens.

 Nuclear Waste Encapsulation and Storage Facility
Cherenkov Radiation, Hanford Site, U.S. Department of Energy
Southeastern Washington State
Submerged in a pool of water at Hanford Site are 1,936 stainless-steel nuclear-waste 
capsules containing cesium and strontium. Combined, they contain over 120 million 
curies of radioactivity. It is estimated to be the most curies under one 
roof in the United States. The blue glow is created by the Cherenkov Effect 
which describes the electromagnetic radiation emitted when a charged particle, 
giving off energy, moves faster than light through a transparent medium. 
The temperatures of the capsules are as high as 330 degrees Fahrenheit. 
The pool of water serves as a shield against radiation; a human standing one foot 
from an unshielded capsule would receive a lethal dose of radiation in less than 10 seconds. 
Hanford is among the most contaminated sites in the United States.
Chromogenic print, 37-1/4 x 44-1/2 inches framed (94.6 x 113 cm), Edition of 7

                                       



Fidel Castro, long-lived and long-winded orator and leader of Cuba’s recent history is known for speeches lasting up to 9 hours. In Opus, Havana-based Jose Toirac has taken his fiery and impassioned tracts, edited out all content but a litany of numbers and compressed the audio recording to a cryptic speech and video list of numerals about what? Perhaps these represent the cuban refugees who make up part of the American population, or the number of foes, or the successes of the state, or the deaths of valiant heroes of revolution – there are no clues to the hidden content about which this leader is so passionate.

Showing concurrently at DHC/ART and Ottawa’s National Gallery is Berlin-based Omer Fast’s 50,000 Feet is the Best, a looping Groundhog Day of film edits from real and re-enacted interviews in and around a Las Vegas hotel room. The viewer is led through a series of vignettes via the questioning of an unseen interviewer as a man explains his experiences operating a Predator Drone against targets in Pakistan and Afghanistan from his base in the desert of America’s west. Clearly affected by the remote game-like attacks that have difficulty differentiating military from civilian targets, the pilot stutters and stumbles from one horror to the next alternating between anger, detachment, and palpable remorse. His nerves uncalmed by the contents of an unknowable pill bottle, the viewer is repeatedly shaken by

Another video based work, Phillipe Parreno’s engaging reenactment of the final journey of Robert Kennedy’s corpse from New York to Washinton in June 8, 1968, shows the Senator’s view of a country in grieving not only for him but for the hope he represented. Long sweeping shots of mourners in urban and country settings pit the gallery viewer’s gaze with those who experiencing loss and pain. The massive projection of 70mm film leaves us humbled by the emotion portrayed, the gravity of the journey, and the import of the event.

June 8, 1968  Phillip Parreno
Installation View from DHC/ART


Plancha is a startling work by Mexican artist Teresa Margolles that lulls the viewer with its form reminiscent of minimalist sculpture in iron and stone. Within the large gallery, a long line of oxidizing steel is heated by hidden elements and rests underneath a trough slowly dripping water along the slab’s length. The water measures time in this space as it does when slowly leaking from an old faucet, but in DHC/ART the ‘bloop’ echoing in our insomniac brain has become a sharp audible hiss as the droplet immediately evaporates into the room on hitting the hot metal, a whitish residue forming on te plate surface. When one learns, via the whispers of other visitors and the nearby text panel, that Margolles has collected this water from her previous workplace, a morgue, where the liquid had been used to wash bodies, the sounds and heat and smells in the room become far more sinister. The viewer becomes complicit in the processing of death in a country, far away, where the usually young and often anonymous corpses pay silent witnesses to a society rife with drugs, violence and social inequity.


Plancha - Installation and detail views from DHC/ART

In an alcove, next to Plancha, Taryn Simon has a final work, isolated and dead-ended by an astute and fearless curatorial team. Zarah/Farah is a devastating staged photograph based on recent real events staining American military history. This image, created for the final frame of Brian DePalma’s film Redacted, shows the actress Zahra Zubaidi playing the role of Farah, a character based on the 14 year old Iraqi girl Abeer Qasim Hamza. Four American soldiers of the 502nd Infantry Regiment have been convicted of gang rape of the child Hamza outside Mahmudiya, during which time her parents and six year old sister were being murdered. After the rape, Hamza was shot in the head and her body set on fire. The Iraqi actress Zubaidi has, since the film, sought and attained political asylum due to death threats from family and criticism from friends and neighbors for her portrayal of the 14 year old victim, a role they consider to be pornography. No matter how one is affected by this horrifying fiction of a more horrific reality, once seen the viewer has no choice but to re-enter the overly warm and cloying mortuary, and breathe molecules of the departed before being released into the everyday, undoubtedly changed.

I left the exhibition “Chronicles of a Disappearance” battered and shaken. Face to face with reminders of the disappeared, the forgotten, and the lost we are forced to reconcile our horror with realization that this is the reality that we live in. This is not easy art, and that is high praise indeed. The greatest role of art, in my opinion, is to reflect society back on itself for processing and consideration; to evoke emotion and thought and discussion; to be incapable of being ignored. This exhibition hits on all counts.

It has been my great pleasure to visit DHC/ART for several amazing shows over the past few years and I stand in awe of this institution and her curatorial staff who are seemingly fearless. Jenny Holzer, Guido Van der Werve, Berlinde de Bruyckere, Sophie Calle, John Currin, Tehching Hsieh, Eija-Liisa Ahtila have all shown in recent years. Amazing artists, many exploding onto the international stage after being programmed here, these are not household names but ‘artist’s artists’. These are the controversial and influential leaders in contemporary visual culture.  I am adamant that, while Montreal is always worth visiting, DHC/Art  is reason alone to make the journey and is in itself a national treasure.