explorations in toronto art.

I recently reviewed a great book on video art for Prefix Photo‘s 23rd issue, Shadow Plays. The magazine launched this week, and will be on newsstands for the next 6 months. The book, Pixels and Places: Video art in public space, is a survey of many projects throughout the short but illustrious history of video art. Written by Dutch art historian Catrien Schreuder, the slim volume is well worth a look for anyone interested in the topic. And truthfully, it’s hard not to feel a little invested in public video art display when one is often surrounded by projects of various merits and descriptions gracing the omnipresent video screens and projection surfaces of the commercialized downtown world.

Here’s an excerpt of my review:

“What artistic possibilities does public space offer for video art, and conversely, what can video art offer public space?” These are the central questions posed by Pixels and Places: Video Art in Public Space. Rather than seeking to define an optimal model of public video art, the book offers about 80 brief case studies—from large urban installations, to smaller-scale initiatives—with a focus on the Netherlands (where the book’s author and publisher are based) and the Rotterdam festival, Cineboards. Pixels and Places also draws in related issues: increased commercial dominance in public space, and changing forms and conventions in video art.

Prefix’s articles aren’t available online, but the magazine can be found at various art galleries and bookshops around the city (and elsewhere, I’m sure). The rest of the magazine looks wonderful—I haven’t read the whole thing yet, but it certainly looks to be packed with thoughtful articles and inspiring photos.

I’m impressed by Prefix’s new show.

Guido van der Werve‘s like most of their exhibitions, is a small collection of projected video; this time involving three works projected in the same room.

The main piece, a 40-minute rumination on chess strategy and sublime landscape (trust me, it’s better than it sounds), is impossible for me to describe. But the other two pieces, titled The day I didn’t turn with the world and Everything is going to be alright, make an excellent pair. The first is a sped-up shot of the artist standing at the geographic north pole for 24 hours, as he turns himself in the opposite direction to the movement of the earth. The passage of the sun across the sky, and the movement of cloud formations, is the only change that occurs through the 9-minute piece.

The second piece depicts the artist walking toward the camera, with an icebreaker ship looming over him as it moves through the water behind him. There’s a certain terror I experienced while watching this, but it was combined with a sense of calm that pervades the piece, due to the subdued palette, subtle motion, and gently immersive whooshing soundtrack. (Prefix’s cordless noise-canceling headphones didn’t hurt.)

Generally, I can’t stress enough that everyone should go see this— particularly any lovers of video art, or Caspar David Freidrich. It’s exceptional. There’s a lot more to this exhibition than I can convey right now— just go see it!

guido van der werve

Prefix’s current exhibition, a combination of photo and video by Northern Irish artist Willie Doherty, is so captivating I have already seen it twice.

The photo exhibition is modest, comprising a few dark-hued prints of ambiguous assemblages. Unfortunately, the artist’s decision to face-mount them with plexiglass makes it difficult to really get into the images.

Of course, maybe this is only because the video is so fully immersive, anything else would pale in comparison.

Approximately 8 minutes long, this video piece offers detailed, slow views of a dark forest grove. Some shots have moments of minute movement, such as sap sliding down a tree trunk, worms writhing in soil, and an abandoned campfire crackling. Others simply show brief glimpses of the scene, with regular forest ephemera and some strange traces nearby.

I should take a moment to mention that I have been continually impressed by most video works I’ve seen at Prefix, and I think it’s partially due to their exhibition space. A dark, quiet room, isolated from the rest of the gallery, with an amazingly high-quality projector (none of that muddiness we see so often in video exhibitions), and really thoughtful curation. Not to mention their total art-boner-worthy publication.

I have described this video to friends as being “a lot like Planet Earth, but creepy.” I’m standing by this initial assessment. The subtle sound, an unidentified whooshing that gradually builds to a startling climax, is punctuated by noises of speaking from an unseen crowd. The overall effect is astounding.