User:Ruben/Annotations/Ed Atkins
Ed Atkins - Recent Ouija
Stedelijk Museum - 6 May 2015
Before going to the Stedelijk, I had read a review on Atkins in De Correspondent. Emphasizing how he can generate emotions in the spectator with his haunted house of images and sound -- a haunted house of the future.
Wat er rondspookt in dat digitale aquarium zijn niet alleen Atkins geprogrammeerde personages, het zijn ook emoties en gedachten. Sentiment wordt in flarden opgewekt (door die dramatische klassieke muziek, door pathetische teksten en filmclichés, door de mimiek van het computergezicht), het zweeft door de ruimte, verschijnt en verdwijnt en krijgt daarmee een beangstigende willekeur. (Nina Polak - De Correspondent)
The name 'Ouija' refers to the Ouija boards, which is a tool to communicate with the afterlife. Although one might refer to the exhibition as an attempt to communicate with the virtual, for me the term mainly fits because of its occult reference. The many fragments, which are all seem so recognizable in form and content, yet always strangely juxtaposed - simultaneously triggering your seemingly hard-wired emotions and forcing you to search for meaning. A drunk, smoking man ('Dave') in a bar, clearly a lowlife, suddenly starts to sing an opera. Clips designed as film trailers of various genres are mixed in. Both famous pop music as well as classical music are constantly switching. They go accompanied by a fragmented voice -making seemingly irrelevant philosophical statements (although Atkins himself is said to ascribe an important meaning to the texts...). The voice is subtitles, but the subtitles sometimes subtitle absent text, leaving you wondering where the voice has went.
These strange juxtapositions are done using computer animations that are both recognizable (an affective human face) as well as alienating (long hair that is uninfluenced by any form of gravity). What creates even more unease, more a sense of distance, is the face and body of the main character (Dave), which is too slick, too artificial, as only a computer can generate it. His movements are sometimes a bit clunky, as only a computer can create. Yet he does have facial expressions that we recognize and have affect with. Again, a juxtaposition that leaves you wondering what is happening to your senses.
Atkins seems to play this joke with you, as a spectator, when he plays with the artificiality of his character. When the thumbs up inflates like a balloon into a huge thumb, and suddenly deflates again, until all air seems out of it: it can only make you rethink his implications -- is he refering to Facebook's like button?
The show is baffling in its size (huge screens, beautifully arranged in the space), craftsmanship (great animations and audio) and grandeur (it's overload). It could have seemed arrogant, or pretentious, but if it would be either of those, it would be fitting. The show left me bewildered, satisfied and intrigued.
Dit overvloedige emotionele effectbejag is zowel banaal als vervreemdend. Elke vorm van verhaal ontbreekt, waardoor de toeschouwer zelf zijn plaats moet bepalen ten opzichte van wat hij ziet en hoort. Atkins wil geen passieve immersie (zoals bij een 3D-actiefilm), maar een gedachte- en gevoelsexperiment waarin de toeschouwer zelf de hoofdrol speelt.
It indeed seemed an experiment of emotions, of our emotions. We come aware that recognizable images (those that trigger associations) can trigger our emotions which are pushed aside when other images and sounds trigger other emotions. It leaves ou wondering: are we merely a system that responds according to certain parameters? Are we beings that are that culturally trained that we behave as a director want us to behave?