Antony Gormley's 'Event Horizon' 2010, New York

 From March 26 to August 15 2010, Antony Gormley's Event Horizon can be seen amongst the bustling streets of Manhattan. The Madison Square Park Conservancy presents the installations on the streets and on top of buildings, much like Gormley's 2007 installation of the figures in London. The thirty-one life size iron 'blokes' gaze at passes by from above and at eye level. Their outlined shapes ask the public to look up from their everyday comings and goings on the street level and question their existence amongst the ever flowing crowd of humans that bombard the city's streets every day. Just as with Doug Aitken's Sleepwalkers, it is the flaneuristic viewpoint that is explored (although I have found no evidence of Gormley using this connection to Psychogeography), suggesting an awakened awareness of self in relation to everyday surroundings and actions. Gormley's perception of this piece has greatly intrigued me, (quotes below), with his unspoken (maybe unaware?) connection to the psychogeographical viewpoint of looking at the relation between a "visually overburdened world" and oneself.

"The whole installation is about making a connection between that which is palpable, that which is perceivable, and that which is imaginable. So on the floor, as an interruption of the flow of daily life on the street, we have four 650 kilo iron blokes that are gunna stand naked on the pavement and people will stop and say "What the ___ is that thing doing here?" And that transfer of awareness then might lead to looking around and then that's the point at which, "Oh my God, there's not just one there are more - what's happening here?"

I'm just feeling the magnificance of this extraordinary built environment. It's an awesome sight. I think Manhatten remains a living laboratory of possibility of how human beings can live together.

And then I'm very interested in what happens up there and the question is "Where are they gunna look? How are they gunna orientate themselves, in some sense, their position in this field of visible, of gazing and being gazed, and become enhanced?" 

Antony Gormley, February 25 2010, Mad. Sq. Park Conservancy 

 "The art of our time is absolutely and fundamentally different that everything that went before. It's not about the known; it's about the unknown. It's not about reinforcing all of those things that give comfort and certainty; it's about identifying the things that make us uncomfortable, uncertain. It's about, I think, trying to find a space in a very visually overburdened world in which the subject can find him or her self.

The condition of sculpture is it's still silent or mute and has no meaning, it's just a thing, it's completely useless, it's just an object in a space and it waits for all the things it doesn't have: consciousness, feeling and freedom - and that's what you've got.

Places for reflection, it's the most important experience, I mean, the most important thing - a place within life that is, in a way, removed from life, from which we can loom out but also look in. I would say that you are the subject in a field that is created by art and you, in some sense, make the picture because the picture is not given - it hasn't been done for you, it's an open work that you give form to. 

And where is the artwork?

Is the artwork in the moment of its origination?

Is it in the moment of its reception?

It's everywhere.

I would say the artwork exists most potently in the memory of the viewer or the one who has experienced it."

Antony Gormley, June 19 2009, The Art Fund UK

Oh, Peter Greenaway, how I adore thee...

Peter Greenaway, painter, film maker, performer, installationist and welsh. His influence has become apparent in my filmwork since watching a collection of his early short films in the second year of my course. His use of lists, narration and everyday themes/scenes (although some maybe closer to his theatrical fascination - 'The Draughtman's Contract,' 'The Cook, The Thief, His Wife and Her Lover,' etc.) examplify his transition from painting to moving image. There is no doubt that as an art student I have been brought along the parameters of education to follow the 2D form of art and, having given the chance and option on my university course, applied my painting/drawing knowledge to the moving image in my transition from 2D work to the medium of new media. Greenaway has continued to work with painting and drawing, even incorporating his images into his early film work (e.g. 'A Walk Through H,' 1978) There's no earthly way of knowing Which direction we are going There's no knowing where we're rowing Or which way the river's flowing Not a speck of light is showing So the danger must be growing Are the fires of Hell a–glowing Is the grisly reaper mowing Yes, the danger must be growing For the rowers keep on rowing And they're certainly not showing Any signs that they are slowing. 'The Rowing Song' by Roald Dahl Inspired by Peter Greenaway's Water Wrackets this short film was an editing experiment to see if I could create a sense of building water swirling across the screen. Water has been a recurring theme to all my previous film work, with the opening quote that flashes onto the screen a previously used Roald Dahl poem in Robinson in Cardiff. The forever flowing and never ending qualities of the course of water in this world pose endless possibilities that are constant and yet completely changeable. The many paths water can take and its power to surge through anything that stands in its way are qualities that I believe some of us have and apply to our lives. I am not an Aquarius (although I'm sometimes on the cusp of Capricorn and this water sign) but I would like to think I can apply these virtues to my film work as well as my life. The constant and the endless; the banal and the beautiful.

Flow from Lucy Thompson on Vimeo.

'Sleepwalkers' by Doug Aitken

An installation feature that has inspired me over the past few years of my university degree - Sleepwalkers by Dog Aitken, 2007.

I first read about this installation in my first year of uni. It has cropped up in every sketch book I have written since 2007. The installation took place in New York at the Museum of Modern Art. Seven screens comprised the piece, each shown on the exterior walls of the MOMA building. For passes by on the busy New York sidewalks the art work was made available to those who may not have even been visiting the museum or exhibition. Times Square bombards the pedestrians of New York with advertisements that are displayed in the way Sleepwalkers was presented, offering a view of life through new media. The moving images Aitken presented on the screens involved seven different lives that, through his editing, shared everyday actions that were similar. From waking in the morning and turning on lights to the universal rise and set of the sun, Aitken presents the idea that although each of us are isolated in our everyday actions, we are still part of a larger crowd, whose decisions and actions are what define us as individuals. To view these seven screens through the flaneuristic view of how the camera has presented them we are each able to make connections to the everyday actions that are usually overlooked in their reality. The simplicity of what has been filmed clearly helps us to relate to the actors presented to us but it is the experience of the passes by (who perhaps originally had no intention of viewing Aitken's installation) that, I believe, this piece was intentionally presented for. For the passes by who can be seen in Karl Kels Sidewalk (see Sidewalk by Karl Kels blog), to put their lives on hold for even a second to look up at the images presented on the side of the MOMA and realise they are not just advertisements of an artists work but that they are the highlights of actions of their own lives. To look at their own simple actions brings psychogeography to the streets of New York in a subtle yet understated way that gives the pedestrian the chance to realise (if just for that moment) the wonderment of their actions as less banal everyday occurrences.

We have a world of pleasurs to win and nothing to lose but boredom.

 Raoul Vaneigem, The Revolution of Everyday Life

Installation views;

The piece featured actors Tilda Swinton, Donald Sutherland, Chan Marshall (Cat Power), Seu Jorge, and Ryan Donowho.

Longer video of the installation;

'Sidewalk' by Karl Kels

The following extract from my Film Review notebook concerns the short film by Karl Kels, Sidewalk, which I saw at the European Media Arts and Film Festival in Osnabrueck, Germany in 2009. Coinciding with the Urban Drift section of the festival, I was able to make links with this 'cinematographic painting' to my own work that involved the moving image to understand a sense of place.

(Still from Sidewalk, 2008)

The simple composition of the shot highlights the movements of the human beings across the screen and asks the viewer to question the everyday actions each of us perform; from parking our cars to walking our dogs. It is the actions of those around us that transform our decisions and movements, ultimately shaping our perception of our surroundings and of those we share it with. We are all lone pedestrians, wandering the endless sidewalks and experiencing the everyday with a blasé attitude. Psychogeography touches upon the idea of experiencing the everyday with precious wonder, experiencing all that is found banal as a chance to savour the wonders of man's creations.

On public transport, which throws them against one another with statistical indifference, people assume an unbearable expression of mixed disillusion, pride and contempt - an expression much like the natural effect of death on a toothless mouth. The atmosphere of false communication makes everyone the policeman of his own encounters. The instincts of flight and aggression trail the knights of wage-labour, who must now rely on subways and suburban trains for their pitiful wanderings. If men are transformed into scorpions who sting themselves and one another, isn't it really because nothing has happened, and human beings with empty eyes and flabby brains have 'mysteriously' become mere shadows of men, ghosts of men, and in some ways are no longer men except in name?

We have nothing in common except the illusion of being together.

Extract from The Revolution of Everyday Life by Raoul Vaneigem

(Page 30, Chapter 3, 'Isolation')

The following video was made in 2008. It was supposed to be a shot that was to be used in Robinson in Cardiff (see The Shadow of Robinson blog) but, having dropped the camera over the side of a bridge in Bute Park, it became a 'cinematographic painting,' with the constant shot of reeds slightly waving in the wind giving an image that highlights their overlooked existence. The movement of a small bug across some of the leaves suggests the level of open minded acceptance to the sometimes banal acceptance of nature's beauty. As an accidental piece of film work, this was never shown as a piece to fellow students. However, using it to back my understanding of Karl Kels attempts to unknowingly relate film work with psychogeography, I am able to apply and formulate this acknowledgment into my own production of films.

Four Minutes of Stress from Lucy Thompson on Vimeo.

Obelisk

The obelisk for the exact spot where Tommy Jones' body was found on the side of Corn Du was not where I had remembered it...

This obelisk marks the spot where the body of Tommy Jones aged 5 was found. He lost his way between Cwmllwch Farm and the Login on the night of August 4th 1900. After an anxious search of 29 days his body was found on September 2nd.

Crew

Monday 15th March 2010
The day of filming with a full crew. The sun in Cardiff was bright in a clear blue sky. Setting off from my flat around 11 o'clock, we reached the Brecon Beacons by about 11:45.

The crew consisted of a group of people whom I know and trust, especially when it came to reliability and open mindedness for the directions I gave them (all in the Media Arts and Performance third year group);

Glenn Muggleton

Glenn's role was to climb the path on the right side of Corn Du along with a partner, Owen lawrence, whilst filming their progress with a handheld camera. Glenn's own artwork involves a lot of camera work, resulting in his broad knowledge and transferable skills available to me for this part of a crew.

3D moving imagery is Glenn's current investigation, with the technical aspect of the work showing his true potential as a technical camera guru!



Owen Lawrence

Partnered with Glenn for the climb, Owen's role was also to record his progress up the mountain. Owen and Glenn are a physically fit pair and were able to climb at a matched pace. Having asked for their conversation to be natural whilst filming, I was aware of both these guy's playfullness in front of the camera. Part of this filming had to have an elusive openness that I accepted before filming began - possibly when I was contemplating who to cast. Owen, along with Glenn, enjoys such outings as this. I therefore knew it would be an easy decision for him to help me with this piece of film work.

Owen is a performance artist. His current art practice involves baking bread in his handmade cob oven.

Matthew Last
Another lover of the great outdoors, Matthew Last is a country bumpkin at heart. His previous knowledge of the particular path I set him out to climb gave me the one directional twist this piece needs in weaving it with the original basis: Tommy Jones. Matt was first on my list to be cast and, knowing our reliable friendship and inquisitiveness of others art production, his role is most crucial. By involving the memorial for Tommy Jones I gave Matt the role of explaining part of Corn Du's sinister past. Directing the camera over to the memorial took Matt (and Shane) off course to the summit. I was unaware just how far the memorial stood, as I was led to beleive the memorial had dissappeared! Matt, however, took the initiative to find it and let the natural story telling manner of his disposition explain the loss of Tommy Jones.

Matt is a tramp.
He explores performance art through the term existential homelessness.
matthew-last.blogspot.com

Shane Davies

Paired with Matt, Shane was aware of the Tommy Jones twist previously. However, to let the natural flow of Matt's tale sound more fresh and interesting, Shane played dumb and viewed the memorial with acted interest. My decision to pair Shane with Matt is due to my knowledge of how they act with each other. Friends for their full three years at university, there is a free flowing naturalness to their conversation. Their constant chatter makes the climb more interesting, as well as pass as an activity taken by mates. Shane's camera work, as I have seen in Scout #2, can be steady and clear, proving his potential as a master of many trades!

Shane is a man.
He explores what it means to be a man through manly actions in performance art.
shanecdavies.blogspot.com

Lucy Wright
Lucy is a fellow film maker with confident camera skills, as well as a reliable friend. Having worked with Lucy previously on a film I was already decided on using her to help me with the filming of the two groups of guys as they climbed Corn Du. Standing together, each with a Canon XM2, at the bottom of the mountain, we were able to view each others camera screens and I could oversee her filming of Matt and Shane. Due to her film making knowledge and previous working relationship, the help and advice she gave to me was much appreciated.

Lucy's current film work involves the themes of picnolepsia, manipulation and intimacy.
lewright.wordpress.com


Location photos of the XM2s' set up;

View of the mountain from where Lucy and I were stood with the XM2s;

Lunch break after a hard walk up and down, and a cold session of filming for Lucy and I!

With many thanks to Lucy Wright, Owen Lawrence, Matthew Last, Glenn Muggleton and Shane Davies.

Scout #2

Scout #2 took place on Friday 19th February 2010.
The film below is a documentational piece showing the surrounding landscape covered in snow. The camera work by myself and Shane Davies is progressional for my work, with the synchronization of the footage being the main aim of the final edit. The actual final film that I showed to a small handful of people to be critiqued was on two monitors. This separated the footage further, with a slight echo created across the monitors' sound. The DVD players the two discs were played in had to be synchronized from the start. Luckily the M.A.P area in Cardiff School of Art and Design had multiple DVD players that are alike, and it is the same with a few of the television monitors. Clearly the amount of monitors and DVD players that are alike are limited. With the formulation of a five screen piece idea slowly transgressing to be an aim for my work at the moment, I am unsure whether all the monitors will be alike, as well as the DVD players (if they were different would they sync together successfully if the all of the discs were looped?)

Scout #2 from Lucy Thompson on Vimeo.

The awareness of the placement of the camera has been an aspect of film work that has continuously intrigued me. From watching Hollywood blockbusters to the so aptly named 'art films' that are less widely advertised, the camerawork can be a feature that many do not obviously notice, with the alternate reality that is depicted in many of these moving images sucking at our attention in a most lazy fashion. To understand the construction of a scene and it's play through for the camera is a challenge for me to pay even closer attention to all that is portrayed in the moving image. It can, sometimes, add intrigue when there is a lack of enjoyment. To view the world through a camera lens is to highlight all the everyday actions and objects that may get overlooked in their reality. The use of two cameras in Scout #2 was to create a sense of place; to follow the simple experience of a walk in this beautiful landscape through the lens of a camera and capture the history, actions of the people, and events that shape it's everyday existence.

It is here that PSYCHOGEOGRAPHY rears it's head once again and attempts to dive into my film work.

Photos of a white Brecon Beacon's landscape...

The area has many manmade reservoirs like the one seen in the distance here.
(This particular reservoir holds a particularly nasty story of a boy drowning in an undercurrent whilst swimming here.)

The top of Corn Du was covered by white cloud that continuously drifted across the mountain and highlighted the potential for the act of getting lost just as Tommy Jones once did on the hillside.

The increasing amount of dark cloud cover that appeared during the scout gave the view of the mountains a rather sinister feel, with a stronger wind whipping up around us and the icy cold filling our lungs.

With many thanks to Shane Davies for helping with this piece. Shane was brought up in Merthyr Tydfil but had never been given the chance to climb Corn Du. For him the experience was like no other, with the clean, fresh and open air clearing his mind and freeing his senses to the view of the Beacon's snowy spectacle.

(See Shane Davies' blog at shanecdavies.blogspot.com)

The depth of the snow was unlike I have ever set foot in. The white blanket that covered these hills completely altered their appearance for me, having walked this path many times before. To capture it as a moving image the experience of a snowy Brecon Beacons will forever be a reminder of how a sense of place can be altered simply by the weather.

An Old and Lengthy Artist's Statement

Since writing this statement my work has taken different paths and progressed into something that has long been an underlying and somewhat pre-visualized aim that surfaced as almost a fantasy two years ago. To present this statement here gives me the chance to understand all the stages and processes that have informed my present work. I am someone who greatly values previous events and decisions, with the continuous creation of history presenting the chance to understand the whats, whys and therefores.

John Grierson, father of British and Canadian documentary film, said in 1970, "It was something altogether new to be looking at ordinary things as if they were extraordinary." This reference to the moving image as documentation relates closely to what using film first became for my artwork. To capture an experience, or capture time, and share it with an audience was the aim for each film I created. To construct a relatable world in which the viewer could draw references to within their own reality, highlighting aspects that are overlooked in the everyday. This basis of my investigation into the moving image has led me to look at how to use the aspects of the everyday in the creation of a fiction.

From using the alter-ego character Robinson, first seen in Daniel Defoe's Robinson Crusoe (1917) and later Patrick Keiller's films Robinson in Space (1997) and London (1992), I began a quest unto using a script consisting of truth, facts and lies to step closer to a fiction. However, having explored the option of a script, eradicating the use of Robinson and a narration opened the possibilities of the content, context and path for fictional film work. Although narration may be an option for future experiments, the film work investigations I am currently exploring involve more personal camerawork; "Using first person in film is a sign of humility. All i have to offer is myself," Chris Maker, 1997. By placing myself in front of the camera I am able to visualize, plan and experience the actions first hand and, in watching them back, understand how they appear from the viewer's perspective.

The shots used in my most recent work are motivated by films such as Gus Van Sant's 2002 film Gerry, in which the camera subtly views the actions and decisions of the actors, helping to build the scene around them rather than continuously changing the placement of the camera. Investigating shot types, angles and movement is an underlying enquiry into creating a fiction. The subject of my films currently coincides with my research into psychogeography. The construction of a journey, whether it's from place to place or past to present, has provided a broad ground to explore possible fictional screenplays.

A condensed and much more relevant statement is on its way...

The Act of Flanerie

Have you ever reflected on everything contained in the term flanerie, this most enchanting word which is revered by poets?

Going on infinite investigations through the streets and promenades; drifting along, with your nose in the wind, with both hands in your pockets, and with an umbrella under your arm, as befits any open-minded spirit; walking along, with serendipity, without pondering where to and without any hurry...

Stopping in front of stores to regard their images, at street corners to read their signs, by the bouquinistes' stands to touch their old books...

Giving yourself over, captivated and enraptured, with all your senses and all your mind, to the spectacle.

Victor Fournel, Ce qu'on voit dans les rues de Paris.

From The Art of Taking a Walk, by Anke Gleber.

The Revolution of Everyday Life

Reality, as it evolves, sweeps me with it.

I am struck by everything and, although not everything strikes me in the same way, I am always struck by the same basic contradiction: although I can always see how beautiful anything could be if only I could change it, in practically every case there is nothing I can really do.

Everything is changed into something else in my imagination, then the dead weight of things changes it back into what it was in the first place.

A bridge between imagination and reality must be built.

From The Revolution of Everyday Life, Chapter 23 (Self-realisation, Communication and Participation)

Read by Paul Scofield in Robinson in Space (1997) by Patrick Keiller.

'Five' by Abbas Kiarostami

"The viewer must be enticed into a reflection on the self and the surrounding world," Kiarostami.

This 74 minute feature film is like no film I ever have seen. The five shots that compromise its sequence challenge the viewers patience and ask us to to reflect upon our surroundings in relation to ones self. The idea of 'genius loci' appears once again as a subject that excites my imagination when viewing this film.
(Full definition of 'genius loci')
Our surroundings have a great influence on our decisions in life - from obvious habitat decisions of work, family and interests, to subtle traits of our personalities that may not be so obvious. An example that I have noticed within my own character is my awareness when walking around the city I now live in. From growing up in a secluded village to moving to the busy city life of Cardiff has made me more paranoid when walking down the street, with the multiple automobiles whizzing past, to the assortment of characters who seem to walk too close to me compared to what I have been used to in less densely populated areas of the country. This film highlights the subtle movements of objects, humans and animals that may get overlooked in the everyday, and forms the suggestion of the natural flow of our surroundings constantly shaping our world. The presence of water within each shot, (from the lapping shore line of the Caspian sea, to the slight movement of water that reflects the moon), suggests the idea of the endless series - the water being a constant, ever flowing natural part of our surroundings that can bide its time but flow in every direction and through anything it encounters.

The first scene, Wood, follows a chunk of driftwood. As the only shot where the camera moves (to follow the wood's path), the lapping shore endlessly crashes against the sand, pulling and pushing the wood along in the same way longshore drift carries sediment along a long stretch of shoreline.

Scene 1 - Wood


One has to wonder whether the separation of the driftwood into two pieces was a manipulation on Kiarostami's part as the director and artist. For, although this could be a natural occurrence, for it to have been caught on film suggests the environment as staged. Did Kiarostami film this piece for a long period of time, hoping this would happen? Or was this occurrence simply nature's hand? I believe this part of the scene was unintentional, but the disappearance and consequent reappearance of the large chunk of wood in the background having been washed out to sea was due to manipulation. Someone has clearly pushed the larger piece out , otherwise one has to wonder how this scene may have been if the camera had decided to follow the larger chunk rather than stay at the waters edge with the smaller piece. Why did the camera have to follow the driftwood at all, as, in comparison to the following scenes, the camera sways from it's original homage to Yasujiro Ozu, the master of cinematic stillness, and Kiarostami's reson for the creation of this film.

The first time I watched this film, the manipulation of certain scenes was not clearly evident. However, I certainly queried it's truth. How could all those ducks pass by the camera in such quick succession?

Scene 4 - Ducks

The answer being that if you look closely you will see the outlines of some of the ducks that have been superimposed onto the final image (clearly a deliberate giveaway made by Kiarostami).

How could all these dogs stay in the centre of the shot for such a period of time seemingly looking out across the sea? It almost hints to the absurd until you realise that a dog trainer is just off to the side instructing their movements.

Scene 3 - Dogs


The final shot of the moon reflected in rippling water was filmed over a series of months, with different weather affecting the water and therefore the reflection.

Scene 5 - Moon

The patience needed by the viewer to get through the full 74 minutes of film is tested (depending on how the feature is watched). As this film is now available on DVD one is able to watch the film according to one's home-watching habits. I am someone who will have a film playing in the back ground whilst getting dressed in the morning, dusting the room, making my dinner, or just lounging on the sofa. For someone who's attention must be fully submerged within the context of this moving image I do not feel envious. Although I can enjoy the subtleties within shots where not much happens, this film challenges even my limits of boredom. The length of each shot is just about bearable before a quiet blast of sombre music signifies the next scene. To watch this film from start to finish calls for a great amount of attention so that smaller aspects of the scenes are noticed, but i fail to comprehend how many people would stand to sit through the first scene, let alone all five. The manipulation within the scenes adds a certain air of playfulness, and lifts the sombre atmosphere that the boredom of watching it can create. On the other hand, this is not a film that I will choose to show at a regular film night I attend (although I am sure those who attend it with me would have a lot of declarations of boredom to make over this feature!)

Scene 2 - Promenade from 'Five' by Abbas Kiarostami