list.co.uk/festival Festival Visual Art

JANE AND LOUISE WILSON Doubling, slippage and a mix of the personal with the historical ●●●●●

At once domineering and illusory, the large black box construct that has been built within the gallery to house central film work ‘Unfolding the Aryan Papers’ demands and entices in equal measure. Designed to impose a necessary negotiation with the space surrounding the screen, further slippage occurs within its dark diaphanous walls when you discover that mirrors flank the screen, and that the film is reflected infinitely. It’s a marvel even before you attend to the film a confusion between projected and physical space that heralds the return of the artists’ familiar play with themes of absence, presence, loss, memory, desire and fantasy.

The 16mm film was made following extensive research of the Stanley

Kubrick archive, and features footage of actress Johanna ter Steege. Cast in the lead role in what was meant to be Kubrick’s 30th feature (Holocaust film Aryan Papers) the actress was denied her plumb role when the film was pulled after months of pre-production preparation. Deftly splicing together new footage of ter Steege with original photographs from the archive, this portrait film stages a two-fold re-inhabitation of the past. It both resurrects the pre-production phase of this unrecognised project and it allows for the actress, if a little uncomfortably, to re-inhabit the old still photographs of her former self. Besides offering an incredible areal view of the veiled flickering screen, the

balcony level of the gallery presents a selection of Kubrick’s monochrome photographs. While at first these appear indexical document, record, trace there is a point at which it dawns that these are part of an unrealised original. Yardsticks, traditionally used on set to denote scale, appear throughout the artists’ film, and then again in Kubrick’s still photographs, and then finally in a new sculptural form upstairs. And so the Wilson Twins continue to fold our expectations with these doting references to something that in essence is an absence, a lack. The Wilsons’ meditative style often provokes criticism for remaining image-

led, and their works have been likened to high-class fashion shoots. This exhibition, however, presents an intriguing and layered matrix of effects and provocations, and it would be impossible to dismiss ‘Unfolding the Aryan Papers’ as simply an aesthetic success. (Rosalie Doubal) Talbot Rice Gallery, 650 2210, until 26 Sep, free.

REVEAL/RESET Ingenious web-based creations that sadly lack the ability to connect ●●●●●

Designed to support the development of creative applications that challenge the notions of what networked or web-based digital creativity can be, the Alt-W Fund has financed new artworks by nine Scottish-based artists. New media projects include FOUND’s ‘Cybraphon’, a musical robot whose performance responds to its current state of popularity on social networking sites, a networked installation by Ben Dembroski that does something or other with an open source computer code, and Sarah Kettley’s ‘Aeolia’, a series of woven pieces for the body that make use of prototype stretch sensors.

While Reveal/Reset presents works that display incredible ingenuity and fine technical craft, the most overwhelming effect of this group show is one of total alienation. Not one of these works speaks entirely for itself, each one requiring a lengthy explanation. Although assistants readily offer descriptions of the ways in which each web-connected or network-affected piece clunks into action, the nonsensical interpretation does little to demystify the gadgetry. The need for further elucidation surely at once undermines Alt-W’s attempts to counter preconceived notions of typically disengaged digital creativity.

Proffering immediacy with the viewer unmatched by the other works, the most successful piece is ‘Floc: skein’ by ~ in the fields. Their large glowing globe appears to house ethereal flocks of birds, and interaction with the work prompts philosophical parables to flicker upon its surface.

Wade through the disaffecting technological jargon and, admittedly, these

pieces are rather fun. But you can’t help but feel that they would be better off in a more lucid museum-like setting, detached from the demands of a contemporary art space. (Rosalie Doubal) Inspace, New Media Scotland, 651 5661, until 5 Sep (not Mon & Tue), free.

20–27 Aug 2009 THE LIST FESTIVAL MAGAZINE 71

CALLUM INNES: I LOOK TO YOU Compelling new work by leading abstract painter ●●●●●

Sheets of oil colour have meshed into linen and expanded themselves over wooden stretchers. Some reveal a matte finish, others sparkle with glossiness, all have bleeding lines around the edges. These extremities are clues for the anterior panels: like blue veins running along the inner arm of a pale white body, the skin of the canvas is pulled taut over its stretched bones. Edinburgh painter Callum Innes has long been recognised as a leading figure in

the genre of abstract painting. His style articulates a monochromatic language and (by a stretch of the imagination) this exhibition of new work reveals an unexpected connection to the art of taxidermy.

His work might appear formulaic at first glance, but any painter will tell you how difficult it is to make a good abstract painting. To reach perfection through non- action and reiterating fields of colour onto raw materials can be likened to the skill of zipping the pelt without snagging the organs.

Lucio Fontana slashed his canvases, and Innes has a similar understanding of the language of working with canvas but comes to it from a different angle. Each large canvas is divided into two parts: one is painted white and the other in colour. His paintings counterbalance the interiors of the gallery. While the planes of colour jump out and recede rhythmically, each canvas radiates an aura of light onto a white walled backdrop, allowing the eye to pick up subtle shades of blue, green and yellow bouncing off the stark white. (Talitha Kotzé) Ingleby Gallery, 556 4441, until 19 Sep, free.