- Venue
- De La Warr Pavilion
- Location
- South East England
This exhibition presents a selection of work from the last decade and places special emphasis on a new commissioned work called Lighthouse (2011), which occupies a gallery of its own on the first floor.
To call Yass’ work dreamlike or other-worldly, although entirely true, sounds like a simplistic, reductionist approach. It’s an easy way out: of course her photographs and videos have the quality of dreams, but there is so much more in her work, and no less important is her ability to make us feel uncomfortable through images of generic places we know and find familiar – empty warehouses, buildings, trails.
I find that the best way to describe this discomfort is using Freud’s definition of the unheimlich (uncanny), when everyday or familiar objects lose their familiar side. This is exactly what happens in this series of photographs. The technique used by the artist of printing a cross-processed positive film and a negative taken a few seconds later, render fantastic and ethereal images – which result in the spectator feeling weirdly uncomfortable and trapped while trying to decipher what within the image seems familiar to him/her. There is an intrinsic beauty within the prints, exacerbated by the use of light boxes, but much has been said about Yass’ photographs and I personally find the videos more intriguing and better accomplished.
Although I find the still images to have a supernatural and celestial feel while also being incredibly beautiful and perfectly resolved in aesthetic terms, there is a question of whether the technique surpasses the content. The content is the form in the sense that if you take away this unique technique you are left with pretty standard photographs. Does this mean that the works become slightly repetitive, like a technical experimentation of a finite medium with an infinite subject? Perhaps the form overcomes the content?
When I proposed to write a review for this exhibition, I set out to answer the following questions about the new film Lighthouse:
What is our relationship and understanding of these spaces (lighthouses)? How can we relate to them through this film? What is the usefulness of these objects and how does our psyche deal with their clunky presence?
Before elaborating on the contents of the film I will answer: the way Yass deals with the subject/object she disrupts our understanding of these seemingly external spaces, making it almost impossible for our psyche to deal with their presence, and placing them under a completely new light. Who would have thought that one of the least aesthetically pleasing objects, a product of the industrialisation of labour, could suddenly become so appealing?
What happened with Lighthouse was for me, the first time I have experienced this kind of disorientation through a video. For approximately 11 minutes we see 3 points of view intertwined (the perspective from a helicopter, a boat and a diving team). We see and experience the lighthouse from every possible point of view and the disorientation produced as a result is a sensorial experience like no other. Closer to dizziness than to understanding, we stop being spectators to become immersed in the film – although our minds try to figure out what we’re seeing, there is no longer use for reason – as the images we see contradict everything we know about the way we experience objects. The pace changes – we are closer to the sea and the waves look almost like noise on the screen, suddenly, we are so close to the base of the structure that you can see the mould growing on it, the camera pans out and we’re back again looking at the lighthouse from above, a safe distance and a respite from the danger of the waves below….
Video has been around for a while, but it is always refreshing to see artists who take advantage of the medium to go beyond the traditional narratives and restrictions of film. In this sense, Lighthouse produces a reaction not dissimilar from that which audiences experienced with the Lumiere’s brothers first film of a steam train or a Disneyland simulator, except the images are so powerful that there is no need for the seats to move.
Although the film Descents presents a similar kind of experience of a construction site, the slower pace of the film and the sole point of view of one camera allow the brain to rationalise what we’re seeing. It is nonetheless fascinating, but you don’t get the same sensation of travelling with the camera. Lock, however is just as successful as Lighthouse. It is strangely compelling viewing, in spite of the slow pace of the film and the stillness of the camera. Rarely do you get such a sense of claustrophobia from watching a film, as the hatches open and close at a painfully slow pace, conveying once again the unstoppable desire to escape. Just like with Lighthouse, you wonder when the “train” is going to come crashing out of the screen. When was the last time video art made you feel nauseous and excited at the same time?
