- Venue
- Bonnington Gallery
- Location
- East Midlands
What is remembered of the man who pursued his quest through obsession to destruction? ‘Fictions' explores these fragments of knowledge and exploits the gaps in narrative to suggest alternate endings. Based on the discovery of a journal kept locked away for a century, ‘Fictions' is the story of Captain J L Rogbes.
Standing at the entrance to the Bonington Gallery I am aware of the light receding away into the depths of the far corners, beckoning me forward. J L Rogbes wants his story to be known. A faint voice scratches at my attention… ‘All the choices I never made…just one more …calm seas now…the volume is greater …dolphin may not exist…if I must fail…' A collaborative work by Glen Jamieson and Aaron Juneau, ‘Rogbes Search' follows me around the gallery space, growing fainter or more aggressive by turns. At times Rogbes' voice meets an echo and words overlap, suggesting the disintegration of one man and the ramblings of someone for whom dream and reality had become intertwined.
I follow the sound and come face to face with a sea of images. Some are elaborately drawn with pen and ink; others are snatched gestures less than a mere outline. I peer at them trying to decipher the contradictions and disparate outcomes they portray. Eugenia Ivanissevich's ‘The Remainder' explores Rogbes' alternative paths and stretches the plausibility of potential outcomes. A man haunted by the choices he never made and the opportunities he lost whilst enslaved to his great obsession, Rogbes became prone to vivid dreams that were as real to him as the portrait of the family he left behind. It is not clear which drawings portray Rogbes' reality and which fabricate his dreams and the imaginings of a man craving a final resting place for ambition.
My eye catches a glimmer of movement on the far wall, an endless cycle of pursuit. Helen Perkin's ‘Story of the Hunter and the Kill' features the object of Rogbes' great obsession. Eyes stare back at me, but are they taunting the pursuer or beckoning me onwards to participate in an unknown game? Forms flicker and dance across the wall sometimes fading before my eyes. What atrocity is planned and will the hunter become exhausted before the story is complete?
A possible answer comes from Fay Nicholson's ‘Ocean of Diverging Coordinates'. Scattered throughout the gallery are fragments of Rogbes history. Sometimes suspended in mid air, sometimes thrown to the far corners of the gallery as if his very life was ruptured by a cataclysmic event. Maybe he was the victim of his obsession. It is clear he was an ardent collector based on the sheer mass of debris. A collector with a predilection for hats of all shapes and sizes. It is the hats that attract me, with their ethereal pink residue. A nod to the legend of Rogbes' rival, these hats signify his descent into an ocean unpopulated by maps. Was it the sheer volume of encumbrances he took on board that sank the ship? Or was Rogbes hauled overboard by a charming hat wearer who promised to conclude his endless pursuit?
But Rogbes was not alone in his pursuit. History must wonder at the men that accompanied him. A niche at the back of the gallery space pays homage to the men whose story must remain untold. Marianna Simnett's video ‘Mortals' features the faceless forms of those for whom there are no journals. The dilapidated crewmates crowd together on screen until all detail has been drained from them, the image blisters and they disappear. I felt the loss of their stories.
Girolamo Marri's ‘The Collapse' suggests one potential ending of the tale. Upturned tables and uprooted doors have created a barricade in the left corner of the gallery. Built high and teetering towards the ceiling I feel overpowered by the density of the structure. Layer upon layer of debris prevent me from getting to the man himself. Rogbes may have manoeuvred himself into a corner he couldn't navigate out of in his epic pursuit or maybe he lost hold of the thread of reality that bound him to the world. ‘The Collapse' suggests that his sense of self may have been eroded to the point of extinction and Captain J L Rogbes simply ceased to be, there is nothing behind the barricade.
I turn to leave and am given a page torn from the journal. Hugh Dichmont's ‘Denunciation of Time' examines the dispersal of narrative. Potentially contaminating the thoughts of the viewer on exiting the exhibition and returning to their usual pursuits, Dichmont seeks to disseminate the story until it is fully leached out into the world. I wonder whether this will help preserve Captain J L Rogbes in the memory of the viewer and thus save him from obscurity or whether he will be further eroded by this act of destruction. I turn away with my page; unaware of it's location within the journal…beginning…middle…or end. The outcome of the pursuit remains unknown.
