Photofile 84 - Distortions
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Editor: Ashley Crawford Regulars:
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DOMESTICITY CAN BE A STRANGE THING INDEED. AS FILMMAKER DAVID LYNCH ILLUSTRATED SO WONDERFULLY IN HIS FILM BLUE VELVET, THERE ARE MANY ODDITIES THAT LIE BENEATH THE SURFACE. THREE ARTISTS IN THIS ISSUE OF PHOTOFILE CERTAINLY SEEM TO BACK THIS UP. In Maree Alexander's world, everyday objects take on a mysteriously erotic frisson. A jug pushes a glass into a corner with clearly erogenous intent, fruit squeezers prepare to copulate - the everyday becomes a sensual orgy. Cold, utilitarian glass and plastic are caught out in the heat of the moment, leaving one wondering what happens on the kitchen bench when we are away. "It is the animation of the inanimate that gives rise to an uncanny quality in these works," Joan Cameron-Smith notes in her essay on Alexander. "... we fulfil the moments that may follow within our minds." Many aspects of this issue could be summarised by the Comte de Lautr'eamont in his classic surrealist novel, Les chants de Maldoror: "Beautiful as the chance encounter of a sewing machine and an umbrella on a dissection table." The strangeness continues when a painter encounters two everyday objects - an old mirror and a mobile phone. While he has dabbled in other media, most especially Super 8 film during the 1980s, Peter Walsh is known foremost for his paintings. In his latest body of work he has shifted gear dramatically: the body distorted via a chance encounter in imagery reminiscent of an old circus carnie. The carnie continues in yet another chance encounter and another weird semblance of domesticity when Lisa Roet discovered a retired circus clown and his chimpanzee, Mugsy. Roet's work - photography, video, drawing and sculpture - has long focused on the simian as subject. "Are these as they seem, images of domestic normality, of family members in their habitual repose?" William Wright asks in his essay on Roet, Primal Pursuits. Elements of what Sigmund Freud discussed in his 1919 essay, The Uncanny abound in this issue. In essence Freud describes the Uncanny as something we do not recognise, that is frightening almost purely because we cannot easily classify the object or situation around us. Freud uses the German word unheimlich, which is clearly the opposite of heimlich (homely): "the opposite of what is familiar; and we are tempted to conclude that what is 'uncanny' is frightening precisely because it is not known and familiar." That we live in strangely conservative times is beyond dispute and, perhaps surprisingly, visual art still has enough punch to make the nightly news and the front pages of newspapers around the country. In early 2008 the painter Sam Leach gained notoriety for his self-portrait in Nazi uniform, which was entered into the Archibald prize. That was rapidly followed by the Bill Henson saga. That in turn was followed by the controversy over the cover of the July issue of Art Monthly, which featured an image by Polixeni Papapetrou of her naked daughter. The eminent art critic, Kevin Rudd, made sure to wade in on both the Henson and the Papapetrou affairs. In keeping with the times, this issue of Photofile has earned an M Rating for the imagery of Paul Quinn. Like Sam Leach's work, Quinn's is a clear warning of the inevitable atrocities of war. Only the tiniest percentage of those in uniform would be guilty of any atrocities whatsoever, but as images that have seeped out of locations such as Abu Ghraib testify, atrocities do occur during war-time. One of the masters of the Uncanny was Goya. For most of the readers of Photofile war remains uncanny, unfamiliar except via the sterilised imagery of the television set. Goya's depictions of war are chilling and gruesome indeed, but the harsh realities of a remarkably barbaric present are depicted in ghastly mis-en-scenes by Paul Quinn. These images are not for the faint-hearted and will no doubt shock and horrify many. As Editor I do not apologise for that - one of the realities of war is rape or, at the very least, excessive abuse perpetrated on the victim and Quinn has the guts to reveal that horror in his carefully staged and truly horrible tableaux. Like the United Kingdom's Chapman Brothers, Quinn takes his que from Goya. These works should be a wake-up call to everyone. IMAGE © Lisa Roet Caravan Toowoomba 2008 |
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