Exhibitions 2010
Essay by Victoria Garnons-Williams
The vast and unrelenting Australian landscape remains a site of mystery and ‘creeping dread’ for many of us who arrived here after 1770. Nevertheless, landscape forms an essential part of our cultural mythology and is deeply internalised within our sense of aesthetics. Four ACT-based photographic artists- Alexander James, Cathy Laudenbach, Marzena Wasikowska and Timo Nest- have responded to the spirit and history of this land in ways that reveal and extend our understanding of the multiple relationships we have, and have had, with it.
Exploration and misadventure are synonymous with pioneer settlement, and Alexander James has researched such early stories from the South East of NSW as the basis for his images, as well as his first published book, The Twilight of Mr. Kemp (James, A. 2009). Through images that overlap, unpeopled geographical sites set the scene for our imagination, where each human drama unfolds as if contemporarily. In one story from 1832, this- this very spot- was the place where Garret Cotter was banished beyond the ‘limits of occupation’. We see, as he might have, the land opening up before him, the individual and necessary steps he must take to travel into the unknown.
Cathy Laudenbach revisits a site of chilling misadventure from our own era, one that reinvests the landscape with haunting and foreboding overtones. In Looking for Peter Falconio, she presents questions about Falconio’s disappearance in 2001 alongside the banal roadside of Barrow Creek by constructing surreal aspects in each image. In this way, she suggests more, much more, than can be seen with the actual eye.
While seeming to be more naturalistic in her approach, Marzena Wasikowska’s images of Forensic Landscapes employ subtle and manipulated lighting, careful selection of site and emotional nuance to reveal the ‘terrible beauty’ of the Australian bush. We are made very aware of our own psychological position in these ambiguous scenes, as well as our fondness for narrative invention.
Timo West releases the viewer almost entirely from the overtly recognisable landscape and invites us into an aesthetic, metaphysical terrain. West has used the very attributes of photography to confound itself, presenting us with another, equally credible vision. Carefully controlled time lapse images blend and blur existence, creating a minimalist environment where we are free to respond at will.
Chronokinesis is the power to slow down or speed up one’s perception of time. Neil Degney generates questions proposed by the concept of chronokinesis and applies them to photographic images to construct new versions of his family history. Here, time and perception flows in both directions from present to past, interval and epoch are merged, and the albums that insisted on chronology are disregarded. Released from the constraints of linearity and temporality, Degney selects from his archive any manner of photograph, and follows his own personal narrative and memory in their reassembly. The breakdown and contamination of old chemical prints, such as WWII photographs that had been processed in improvised jungle darkrooms, has been preserved, so it is not the photographs that have been altered, but rather their alliance. Through the proximity of a number of images in an extended panorama, we ‘see’ the family through Degney’s own subjective themes and perspectives.
Vivienne Kelly imagines and constructs habitats full of mysterious and ancient life-systems from the deep that have a counterpoint relationship with plant species on land. Literally and figuratively, her unique organisms come into being through luminescence- various light sources are used to physically illuminate the specially crafted forms, and Kelly’s expressive intent draws on the bioluminescent characteristics of organisms in the ocean. However, the meditation on light in these works goes beyond the strictly biological impulse into notions of culture and spirituality, invoking the artist’s Peruvian and Inca genealogy, where worship of the sun god, Inti, formed a central mythology. Many of the forms created in the works are flute-like, reminiscent of the wind instruments of the ancient tribes of South America. The large scale has allowed Kelly to work with wonderful intricacy and delicacy over the surface and the vertical format of the images brings them into human proportions, impressing us with the sheer craftsmanship of the pieces, and reminding us of our own relationship with habitat, both biological and mystical.
In throughtheviewfinder, Amanda Lowjen’s photography captures an image on one camera through the viewfinder of another. The resulting image makes us very conscious of the frame, as it is literally pictured along with the subject of the shot. As well, we see the detritus on the second viewfinder and the gap or space of reproduction between the two cameras, which alters the detail and surface on the final image. The space between the cameras opens up a commensurate ‘space’ in time, with images appearing nostalgic and fleeting. Lowjen has harnessed this effect for her own vision of the commonplace, which examines the ordinary and reflects a deep curiosity in the everyday details of life. Her subjects are intersected by the dominant frame of her technique, and by this means, she sets up the conditions for surmising what is beyond the frame.
In Situation Normal, Eva Marosy-Weide has created a complex video piece that reveals its meanings more fully over time, while never quite allowing complete resolution. The landscape that confronts us is split and chaotic, as if we are looking through a variety of syncopated recording devices. The natural, full-colour view is squeezed or repressed between two monochrome views, as we are propelled further into the forest. Any sense that these glimpses of ‘reality’ can be trusted, or can ultimately orientate us is bewildered by the narrowing and widening of the view. One is left stumbling about incoherently, very aware of the denseness of the forest and the associated sounds of bird calls and footsteps crunching over dead leaves. Marosy-Weide sets her odyssey in a beech forest on a mountain in central Transylvania, a place of ominous tales, and fully realises the site of our worst subconscious wanderings. This is a dream that cannot be stopped, a journey that cannot end, a path that cannot be charted.
