[caption id="attachment_2682" align="alignnone" width="504" caption="Lindsay Seers, "Extramission 6 (Black Maria)," 2009. Courtesy the artist and Tate."][/caption]
This past spring (February 3 – April 26, 2009), the Tate Britain in London held ALTERMODERN their fourth Triennial. The exhibition, curated by Nicolas Bourriaud (Gulbenkian Curator of Contemporary Art and founding director of the Palais de Tokyo in Paris) displayed works by twenty-eight British and international artists. Bourriaud described ALTERMODERN as “an in-progress redefinition of modernity in the era of globalization, stressing the experience of wandering in time, space and mediums.” He also remarked that ALTERMODERN “suggests that the historical period defined by postmodernism is coming to an end, symbolized by the global financial crisis.” With this triennial, Bourriaud attempted to investigate the new era that we are entering into.
One of the first pieces in the exhibition that I came across was Line of Control (2008) by the Indian artist Subodh Gupta. The piece is a large imposing sculpture made of stainless steel elements (including kitchen utensils) in the shape of a mushroom cloud. The phrase “Line of Control” refers to the disputed territory of Kashmir, which is divided between Indian Kashmir and Pakistani Kashmir. The “Line” represents the stalemate between these two countries for control of the region. The mushroom cloud presents a visual expression of the possibly violent outcome of the volatile situation between these two nuclear countries. The inclusion of the steel utensils recalls the non-military citizens who are passive victims of the unstable condition. The mushroom cloud of kitchen utensils may represent the citizens’ frustration at the circumstances, as well as their desire to eradicate the current situation and replace it with a new incarnation - their own, non-military needs in mind. The piece was placed in front of the ticketed entrance to the Triennial exhibition so that you had to walk around it, and were encouraged, by the roundness of the space, to circumnavigate it, which was ideal. It allowed for a meditative contemplation of the global situation, alongside an appreciation for the craftsmanship of the individual artist.
Another work that I found especially worthy of note was The Russian Ending (2001) by the British born, Berlin based artist Tacita Dean. In these works, Dean took images from postcards she acquired in European flea markets and superimposed hand-written text on top of them suggesting a film storyboard. These notes range from lighting and camera directions to narrative guidelines. Dean had been told that Danish filmmakers often made two endings to their movies—a happy ending for American audiences and a tragic ending for Russian audiences. Inspired by this information, the postcards Dean chose all depict tragedies of some sort (natural disasters and man-made ones), and the texts that she superimposed on them are tragic and macabre, suggesting the type of film geared towards a Russian crowd. The postcard images look equally like they could be scenes from a film or from real life, creating a dark humor to some of them while still creating an element of anxiety. Currently, the Museum of Modern Art has a similar piece up in their lobby. Chère petite soeur (2002) consists of two blackboards with images of ships struggling in a storm. Like the postcard images in The Russian Ending, these also have storyboard-like notes written over the images, indicating a falsity to the image that you’re seeing while simultaneously suggesting a melancholy ending.
The standout piece in the exhibition was Extramission 6 (Black Maria) (2009) by Mauritius born, London based artist Lindsay Seers. The installation’s film is a quasi-documentary of the artist’s life. She did not speak until she was eight years old, though she had had a photographic memory. However, once she began to speak (after seeing a picture of herself and asking if it was her) she began losing her memory. This distressed her, and in an attempt to regain the quality, she sought to turn herself into a camera by inserting pieces of light-sensitive paper into her mouth and opening and closing her mouth to mimic the functions of a camera aperture and shutter. Through this she became a recorder. However, this passive process became unsatisfying for her, and she decided to become a projector. In reality this is presented as her turn to filmmaking, and the very installation in which the piece is viewed. In the film however, she literally becomes a projector, shooting beams of light out of her eyes. The entire film is in black and white and has the feeling of a late-night documentary you would come across on PBS or the History Channel, including interviews with family members and friends. The film is projected inside a cardboard model of “Black Maria”, Thomas Edison’s first film production studio. As a symbol of the development of film from photography, this structure mirrors the transition that the artist goes through herself in the video projection. The dichotomies between fact and fiction, recorder and projector are ones that extend beyond Seers’ piece and beyond art in general. Her work brings up universal issues in an extremely personal and engaging way.
Despite these highlights, there were some problems with the triennial exhibition. The Tate Britain building is confusing in general. I always get lost in the labyrinth of rooms and can have a hard time finding where exhibitions begin and end. In the case of ALTERMODERN this was particularly true. The exhibition was mainly contained within galleries beyond a ticketed area. However, there were other pieces that were scattered in various places throughout the floor that were not in the ticketed area. This made it difficult to tell which works were part of the Triennial, as well as whether or not you had seen all the work that belonged to it. The only hint was that regardless of where in the institution a piece was, if it was part of the Triennial, a brightly colored sign saying ALTERMODERN was somewhere nearby. This seemed like an extremely disorganized way to curate the Triennial. Perhaps either the whole exhibition should have been contained within the ticketed area, or the pieces should have been allowed to roam the various halls and galleries of the Tate Britain freely. The combination created a confusing and disorganized feel to the installation.
That said, overall the Triennial showcased works of some great artists who I was already familiar with and introduced me to a fantastic British artist. It seems that the Tate Triennial, only in its fourth year, can hold its own among other more prominent biennials and triennials.
