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the original plan the image sources would have been programmed to
change in a cyclic and fluid manner, electronically imitating the
cascading patterns of water in a 'real' fountain. Tests were made
at Samuelsons in London to determine whether my plans to stack the
video wall monitors in the above configuration was practical. In my
original sketches I had assumed the monitors would be strong enough
to support each other in the way I wanted; the bottom row would have
to support the spread weight of the twenty six monitors above them.
The
tests proved the structure would work, and a schedule was drawn
up to include shooting, editing and programming of the video sequences.
Samuelsons also had plans to show the piece as part of the "Canadian
Cultural Festival" (Sept. 10th-24th, 1990) in the newly-completed
Broadgate Centre in the City of London, at a site donated by a Japanese
bank, and were actively seeking additional sponsorship.
In
the final event, however, unforeseen problems developed. The sponsorship
did not materialise, and internal problems at Samuelsons (including
the alleged resignation of their "Electrosonic" programmer)
forced them to withdraw the video wall programming technology. The
Broadgate show was cancelled, and although Samuelsons agreed to
provide me with the video facilities to shoot and edit the sequences,
and the monitors and video players to display the piece at the Harris,
there was to be no video wall programming.
I
had to rethink my ideas for the piece at this stage, as the use
of the programmed cascading imagery had been central to my conception
of the electronic fountain. I decided to keep the installation structure
as planned, displaying four separate synchronised image sequences.
I divided the circular pyramid formation of monitors into four zones-
tape source 'A' to the bottom row (eight monitors); source 'B' to
rows two and three (thirteen monitors); source 'C' to rows four
and five (nine monitors) and source 'D' to rows six and seven (four
monitors).
The
four image sequences would correspond to the components of a fountain
with a 'source' at the top, two separate cascading sections, and
a 'pool' at the bottom. I planned a kind of 'narrative' to the sequences,
so that the fountain would go through a cycle- a compressed 'day',
in which the fountain began cool in the early morning, then lit
with warm daylight, as shadows moved round reaching sunset after
which the water spout was shut off, allowing the pool to settle
to reveal the sculptured classical face of the spout reflected in
its still water.
So
the intended computer-generated cascades had to be abandoned in
favour of a more practical approach. But this change to the formal
intentions of the piece led me to consider more carefully the question
of the spaces between the screens, as movement down from the top
of the fountain to the pools became something that occurred in the
mind of the spectator rather than through the agency of computer
technology. The illusion was now of a different order, as there
was now no sequential movement from screen to screen, simply the
illusion of movement down the fountain structure. What was initially
a set-back and a disappointment turned into an opportunity to think
about the questions that arose about the nature of the illusion,
and the spectator's complicity in its construction. The technologically-driven
video wall would have been more spectacular, but also less participatory.
I decided that the tension in my new video fountain should be centred
on this relationship between the audience and the work, and that
all the technology should be as visible as possible, and presented
as an integral part of the work.
An
important aspect of this audience participation, was physical, or
sculptural. From a reading of the phenomenologist Maurice Merleau-Ponty,
I had become interested in the notion that perception was a bodily
process- a concept of the body as "an intertwining of vision
and movement." In "Eye and Mind", written just before
his death in 1961, Merleau-Ponty wrote:
"I
have only to see something to know how to reach it and deal with
it, even if I do not know how this happens in the nervous machine.
My mobile body makes a difference in the visible world, being part
of it; that is why I can steer it through the visible. Conversely
it is just as true that vision is attached to movement We see only
what we look at. What would vision be without eye movement?"
My
decision to concentrate on video installation was centred on a desire
to explore and develop the sculptural and tactile aspects of image-based
technology which I felt were implicit in the video medium. The move
away from screen based video tape had been prompted partly by an
interest in developing strategies for engaging the viewer more actively
in the perceptive process- to encourage an active awareness. My
idea for an 'in the round' video wall had been one facet of that
strategy; I hoped to encourage the viewer to literally 'take a walk
around the work', and my decision to present the technical equipment-
the playback decks, cables etc., was part of the same approach.
In
order for the image sequences to provide the participatory illusion
of the 'fountain', the four image-sequences needed to remain synchronised,
and as each video player had to rewind every hour (the maximum duration
of the 'U-matic' source tapes) the playback decks were electronically
'locked' together using a newly available, custom-built device called
a "synch-starter".
The
synch-starter, originally made for the exhibition of multi-screen
work at Montevideo in Holland, was first used in the UK during the
1989 Video Positive festival. With this device, it was possible
to accurately synchronise up to seven video players by using the
control-track (a series of timing pulses recorded onto the tape
used during editing) of the U-matic system. The synch-starter allowed
the players to rewind independently, but held each machine in pause
mode until all were rewound and cued up to the first frame of the
video sequence, and then released them simultaneously. This synchronising
technique was extremely effective and surprisingly reliable, and
opened up a new set of possibilities for multi-screen work for me.
My subsequent sculptural multi-screen installations all used this
technique to ensure accurate timing between screens.
The
use of shifting colour changes refers back to Field Study, but in
Eau d'Artifice the use of these colour shifts is less formal, used
for distinctly "narrative" reasons. The narrative in Eau
d'artifice exists only in its temporal dimension, and it is only
revealed by watching the work for some time. My intention with this
temporal illusion was to reinforce the idea of the work as a total
'shape'. It becomes a 'fountain' in the viewer's mind through two
related perceptual processes; the viewer fills in the space between
one screen and the next, completing the flow between the screens,
and that the viewer sees the illusion of the fountain evolve. It
is also an aspect of the work which only exists in its performance
and not something which comes across in any documentation of the
work.
The
twenty two screens that occupy the four layers of the central image
zones of Eau d'Artifice dominate the field of view, and these screens
are predominately blue. This overall impression of blue inspired
my reference to Kenneth Anger's 1952 film Eaux d'Artifice- literally
translated as 'artificial waters', the title being a play on the
French word fireworks', feu d' artifice' .
The
colour changes in Eau d'Artifice were all accomplished by controlled
lighting and the use of colour filters during the shooting rather
than post-production manipulation. In this sense the work anticipates
later interest in the nature and properties of light as part of
an investigation into notions of flow and flux. But Eau d'Artifice
grew most directly from the concerns and ideas that surfaced through
the making of The Stream as is clear from the statement I wrote
at the time of the Harris exhibition:
The
idea of an electronic fountain connects to my interest in using
images and sounds which parallel the video and audio signals themselves,
which are, in essence, streams of flowing electrons travelling along
the cables from their source to the display which forms the final
images and sounds we see on the screens and hear from the speakers.
This in turn can be understood to have a further parallel to the
flow of human thought, moving from the perceiving receptors of eye
and ear to the continuous movement of ideas through the mind.
Eau
d'Artifice was my first major commissioned video installation, and
galleries were by this time beginning to see the potential for video
installation work. An Arts Council funded initiative, MITES (the
Moving Image Touring and Exhibition Service) had been recently established
in Liverpool under the auspices of Merseyside Moviola for the provision
of video display equipment at subsidised rates. The establishment
of this facility was for the first time making the exhibition of
large scale video installation possible in the UK.
Having
discovered the potential of the synch-starter for accurate multi-screen
installation work, and interested to further explore the participatory
possibilities opened up by the imaginary space between screens,
I developed a proposal for a new work that would encourage audiences
to engage with fluid movement across the gallery space.
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