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The
sole surviving version of this photograph is a paper negative (now
in the collection of Gemeentearchief, Amsterdam ) made by Turner
whilst on a photographic expedition to the Netherlands in the spring
of 1857. This view, one of 16 calotypes Turner made that spring,
is amongst the earliest photographs of the Amsterdam canals ever
made.
This
new projection installation is produced from digital video sequences
recorded at the same location 146 years later. The images and sounds
were recorded throughout a single day from 3:30 AM until 8PM, capturing
the ordinary events and occurrences, the light changes and sounds
that were framed within that view at those times. The moments presented
can be seen as ‘typical’- the video is a kind of documentary
of a particular time and place, a framing of the daily sounds and
activities of and from a specific location.
In
my recent video projections and installations I have become increasingly
interested in the concept of “location” as both a place
and a time. In works such as Merging/Emerging (1999), A Photographic
Truth, 2001, For William Henry Fox Talbot (The Pencil of Nature)
(2002) and Returning (2002-03) I have extended this concept of location
to include a historical dimension. In these works there is a crucial
relationship to a specific place and time, and this is established
through the digital juxtapositioning of historical or documentary
images that are associated with a particular time and place. InTemporal
View in Amsterdam (After BB Turner) there is an important relationship
between the original Turner image, its place in the canon of photographic
history, and a contemporary view from the same spot, with an awareness
in the viewer of the spanning of the time between those two moments
146 years apart.
As
there are no surviving prints from Turner’s negative, the
digitally inverted image of the 1857 view provides an approximation
of the printed photograph. Turner used the calotype process, producing
a paper negative that was subsequently waxed to improve transparency
for printing purposes. The process thus yields a positive and a
negative image, the two opposites possessing a special symmetry.
This relationship is important to the new work; the historical relationship
between the original image and the contemporary one establishes
an additional level of symmetry. After working with an earlier Turner
photograph in a previous installation, (A Photographic Truth, 2001,)
I discussed this notion of multiple symmetries with curator Martin
Barnes:
M.B:
There are some moments where the image becomes negative, which for
me makes a nice reference to the paper negative- the idea that calotype
images are a marriage of two parts. There’s a paper negative
that is a beautiful object in its own right, and is the same size
as the final print. That also has a wonderful symmetry about it.
It’s like squashing paint between two pages, and unfolding
it to find the shape of a butterfly.
C.M-A:
It also has a symmetry in the mind, which is a parallel to the visual
symmetry of the photograph. We are aware of the reality and it’s
reflection, and then when we think of the negative (or see it) we
become aware of the positive that is its reflection. The reflection
of the negative is in the head. In my work I attempt to do things
like that. I want the person looking at it to reflect on the process
that is taking place – I don’t mean the technical process,
but the process of perception. If we go back to ideas about the
theory of montage- back to Eisenstein or Kuleshov, and think about
all the different types of montage that they identified- all these
experiences that can be evoked as a result of the juxtaposition
of elements. I’m interested in something that might be called
“conceptual montage”, wherein something on the screen
is montaged with its opposite, or by it’s counterpart in the
mind. One then becomes aware of the two simultaneously.
M.B:
In a way that is almost a pure definition of the Romantic concept
that Wordsworth has- an epiphany in “Tintern Abbey”,
where he suddenly realises that the world constructed in his mind
is half perceived and half generated, and its that that makes him
alive.
C.M-A:
Absolutely. I think that art should do that. Not all art, and not
all the time- but there should be moments where that can happen.
Being aware of one’s “aliveness” at the point
of active engagement. Becoming aware of the ‘real’ and
the interior- the exterior and the interior- and that’s the
symmetry we have been talking about; a kind of symmetry of perception.
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