WORDS: GABIJA PURLYTĖ
Video art emerged in the late 60s and early 70s, and took off with the appearance of the portable video recorder. The range of technologies and techniques employed in the making of video art has become infinitely more varied since then. Today this form of art, which relies on moving images, comprising video and often audio data, is firmly established as an essential part of the contemporary art world. At the same time, it is not the most easily accessible medium for a large part of the audience – more often than not, visitors come up to a screen in an exhibition, linger for a minute and move on. Video art demands serious engagement with the work, if only for the sheer amount of time it requests from the viewer’s attention. In the twenty-first century context of constant visual bombardment and fast image consumption, such prolonged concentration on a work of art which does not promise the unravelling of a plot seems like a lot to ask. But by this roundabout way of employing media which is steeped in contemporary reality, artists coax us back into the contemplation which had been associated with the experience of visual art for centuries. In this series of articles, tn2 would like to accompany you in looking at a few selected pieces, giving you a taster of the pleasure that video art can be.
Alice Maher’s Sleep (2009) is one of a group of “video drawings” produced by the artist between 2009 and 2011, some of which could be seen in her major mid-career retrospective earlier this year at IMMA’s temporary home in Earlsfort Terrace. These video drawings differ distinctly from animation – rather than drawing each frame on a separate page, the artist manipulates and reworks the same sheet of paper, scanning selected stages in the transformation of the image. The emphatically analogue technique of erasure stands in contrast to the digital technology employed in putting the work together – parts of the pencil drawing are rubbed out, leaving a trace on the paper, a shadow of memory. The page is a palimpsest from the start – it bears the signs of earlier drawings, which are reused at different stages of the transformation, as if for convenience. Such constant erasure, together with the looped display of the video (which can be easily replicated with the clip available online) serve to put forth the processual, performative aspect of drawing, which is normally left in the backstage of the artist’s studio. It also rejects, in a sense, the commodification of the art object, as the successive drawings are erased, immaterialised.
There is no rational logic to the images which replace one another, yet they seem to be guided by an intuitive logic, that which belongs to ancient myths. Ovidian metamorphoses inevitably come to mind, among the many references contained within the work. As the video continues its loop, the allusions become more evident and multiply: the erotic pursuits of Zeus in animal guises, the uncanny world of Bosch’s hybrid creatures, the Surrealists’ fascination with the disquieting strangeness of the classical bust… All that mixed in with modern denim-clothed people, and executed in a style of drawing which by its matter-of-fact simplicity makes the fantastic transformations appear almost normal. There is no drama here, rather, according to David Lloyd, an “inconsequentness and abruptness” noted by Douglas Hyde when describing the specific quality of the folk mind. The title – Sleep – might suggest another explanation for the hypnotic unfolding of metaphoric and metonymical substitutions on the screen: they follow the inexorable logic of the dream.
Sound is a crucial element in Maher’s video drawings, whose soundtracks are worked out by composer Trevor Knight in close collaboration with the artist. In Sleep, the steady chanting of inarticulate syllables and hums places the action in the realm of the nonsensical, but is also reminiscent of some strange ritual, ominous piano notes add a sense of apprehension. The sound accounts for the strong impact of the unexpected twists and turns, some of which excite a burst of nervous laughter. Aesthetic appeal combines with intellectual intrigue posed by the wealth of cultural allusions which this work is steeped in, and also with that curious attraction of the strange and the abject, to produce a truly enchanting piece of art.
To see more examples of Maher’s work, please visit www.alicemaher.com
