Exhibition: John Akomfrah at Talbot Rice Gallery
Last Friday I headed along to the preview and opening of John Akomfrah's Vertigo Sea at Talbot Rice Gallery in Edinburgh.
The evening started with a Q&A session with the artist himself covering everything from his involvement with the Black Audio Film Collective in the 80s and 90s to growing up in London and living as a phantom - an embodiment of things that are not you but by association also are because of the narratives that inform our culture.
The conversation soon turned to the current exhibition titled Vertigo Sea, and the 3 channel film by the same name. Akomfrah discussed that the idea for the film had originally come about in 2007/2008 when there were intimations in North Africa to grab Gaddafi and get rid of him. At the time it was decided that to make the film then would have been too dangerous and would not have had the right intentions behind it - fast forward a few years and work on the film began.
Hearing Nigerian migrants talk of surviving the perilous crossing of the Mediterranean Sea after their boat capsized by clinging on to a tuna fishing net sparked off Akomfrah's research into the sea as a burial ground both literally and metaphorically. Covering topics from the body dumping of freedom fighters in the Algerian revolution and Pinochet's Chile to the fleeing of hundreds of thousands of Vietnamese people fleeing the war lost at sea during the 1970s. Pair this information with shots of natural tragedies like the horrendous slaughter of the whaling industry or the senseless killing of polar bears or the testing of nuclear weapons and you have the end result of Vertigo Sea (2012). A 48 minute long 3-channel film of stunning visuals and soundscapes using footage shot by Akomfrah in the Faroe Islands, Norway and the Isle of Skye, as well as archival footage from the BBC Natural History Unit.
Watching the film was an overwhelming experience. The cinematography was beautiful, truly awe-inspiring, with shots of underwater waves, fish, birds, dolphins and whales intermixed with the crashing sea above the surface or stunning rugged landscapes cutting to archival footage of sailing boats or arctic expeditions. But watching the screens cut to polar bears walking on ice or swimming in the freezing sea to then be shot by explorers in black and white archival footage was honestly traumatic. Gunshot, gunshot, gunshot. Bodies fall, humans cut off the skin and walk away leaving the bear in the cold. The film moves back to colonial history, the screens cut to slaves being forced off a ship into the sea so that the slave traders could claim insurance money - something that actually happened in 1781 (the Zong Massacre). Cut back to stunning visuals of swarms of seagulls coasting on the wind or waves crashing against a lighthouse. Cut back to the image of a whale being cut open.
The trauma stays fresh. You want to look away but you don't. At one point I was on the brink of tears at the cruelty of it all. And this is all our own history. By the time the film ended I actually felt a hatred for mankind.
Akomfrah said in the Q&A that the film wants you to question our histories. He said that "we are bound to our phantoms which are difficult to shake off" and I can completely see where he's coming from in this work.
The other piece in this exhibition is At the graveside of Tarkovsky 2012. A 20 minute long, single channel film installed on a raised platform of pebbles which the viewer must walk across to watch the film.
Speaking of Andrei Tarkovsky as a bit of a childhood hero to him, Akomfrah spoke about his experience seeing the film The Mirror (1975) as a young teenager and not understanding what it was about; later realising that it wasn't really about anything. He spoke about his admiration for Tarkovsky's use of people as props instead of characters and the way he made films where the narrative is not commandeered to make human beings appear somehow special. Akomfrah went on to say that experience is what Tarkovsky always offered and that it didn't matter if you didn't understand his films, what you take away from them is entirely up to yourself.
With that in mind, his own film At the graveside of Tarkovsky is somewhat of a praise to the late filmmaker. The film is purposefully without narrative and is comprised of very dark, moody landscapes accompanied by an impressive heavy soundscape. Walking across the pebbled floor to watch the film only adds to the soundtrack, like you are contributing to the work. In comparison to Vertigo Sea this work is a lot grungier in aesthetic, not as crisp with the visuals, but again this has been done on purpose to create a moody contemplative film that is, like Akomfrah said, more about experience than narrative.
Overall I have to say that this show is definitely up there as one of the best shows I've seen at Talbot Rice Gallery. The limited use of the space and the transformation of the the largest room into a dark, soundproofed cinema makes a really nice change to its usual white cube aesthetic, and Akomfrah's films sit very comfortably in this setting.
The show runs until 27th January 2018 so there's plenty of time to head over to Edinburgh to catch these two films before it ends, I for one will definitely be a returning visitor.
I hope you enjoyed reading my thoughts on the show and let me know in the comments if you make it to the show and your thoughts about it.
- Melissa x