William Kentridge: that which we do not remember
The website landing page for each of AGNSW exhibitions doesn’t offer much, the below description is pretty much all you get online about the show:
William Kentridge emerged as an artist during the apartheid regime in South Africa. Grounded in the violent absurdity of that period in his country’s history, his artworks draw connections between art, ideology, history and memory.
Curated by the artist, this exhibition encourages viewers to trace visual and thematic links between diverse aspects of his practice, from his engagement with opera to his interest in early cinema, from his inimitable animated drawings to sculpture and works on paper.
The exhibition features loans from the collection of Naomi Milgrom AO and the artist’s studio, in addition to works held by the Art Gallery of NSW. It includes one of Kentridge’s most ambitious and celebrated video installations — I am not me, the horse is not mine 2008 — a major new addition to the Gallery’s collection, donated by Anita Belgiorno-Nettis AM and Luca Belgiorno-Nettis AM.
Proudly supported by Naomi Milgrom AO, principal exhibition patron and lender.
Which is a shame: as this show is so visually rich and stunningly designed it seems a pity to not be able to represent it better.
That said; I was at ACMI when Five Themes was presented. The official images that were authorised for the publicity for that show didn’t do much to help the punter get a grip on the exhibition (to be fair, stills of Kentridge’s work do little to reflect the power of his animation). The ongoing battle of working with living artists/makers, their gallerists/agents/copyright managers and having *great images* to promote shows is perhaps an un-winnable battle.
This is all a rather odd introduction to this show: and what a show it is.
More than just the work: it is the design of the environments in which you experience the work that is the major key to its success.
So, I went searching for more about the designer that I couldn’t find on the AGNSW site: and found a bit more detail from this site which appears to have captured the original press pack from the show’s announcement. The design of this show is by Kentridge’s collaborator on theatrical projects since 2005, Sabine Theunissen.
After studying architecture in Brussels, Sabine Theunissen spent a year working with the technical team at La Scala, Milan, before joining the design department at the Théâtre de la Monnaie in Brussels, where she worked from 1995 to 2012, developing projects with numerous designers and directors. She has worked closely with William Kentridge since 2003 and designed many of the sets for his productions. More…
Theunissen’s work spans her own art practice and theatre — with a focus on opera. It’s also part of the reason for this show right now — the Opera Australia production of Wozzeck (designed by Kentridge with Theunissen) is timed to coincide.
At the risk of not winning friends: AGNSW exhibition design over the past five to ten years generally has been very understated, and at times perhaps even perfunctory. Ten of their major recent exhibitions have been designed by the architect Richard Johnson. To quote from an article in the SMH by Linda Morris:
For The Greats: masterpieces from the National Galleries of Scotland, two years ago Johnson replicated the Edinburgh gallery’s octagonal rooms, adorning the walls a sumptuous red. The layout was a combination of blocked views and focal points.
For Rembrandt, he has opted for long axial vistas through black lacquered, classically proportioned window frames built to a formula devised by the Greek mathematician Euclid and used in the composition of many of the borrowed works.
In a temporary show, exhibited objects are hidden and progressively revealed.
“We can’t have that because of crowd control. We still have to have a linear route but that doesn’t mean to say we can’t open up the vistas. The open vistas are about saying this is like a permanent suite of galleries designed for these works.”
The key challenge is the physicality of current galleries that the major shows are exhibited in.
The largest contiguous spaces that can hold large exhibitions are utilised in a very particular linear order (as noted above, perhaps due to ‘crowd control’), orientation, height and dimension: and often the spatial experience for each show feels repeated; albeit with different paint on the walls, and a different font on the labels. Whether it’s the Archibald or the Biennale, or the big summer show: there is little to transport you beyond the actual works on the wall.
That said, it’s not just about the spatial qualities of the venue: it is also a matter of intent; and where in the hierarchy of importance the organisation places exhibition design as a discipline.
The recently closed Masters of modern art from the Hermitage was a case in point. I loved the works, but the exhibition or experience design was MIA, beyond one moment with a great use of almost 1:1 photographic reproductions of Shchukin’s palace.
For another (more positive) perspective on that show:
This exhibition has a more digestable scale — less encyclopedic for the sake of it — and arguably offers a more layered visitor experience, with the insertion of a multi-screen video installation, alternative viewing pathways, and what could be described as “landing rooms” offering spaces for pause within the exhibition. Gone are the port wine and ruby walls, dim lighting and stuffy authority that we see with many exhibitions of masters. This exhibition has a lightness that makes these paintings more human, their stories more real.
Another recent exception was the incredible Abstraction of Confusion by Taro Shinoda from the 2016 Sydney Biennale which embraced the height of the central space — but this a was a single work, rather than an exhibition.
I know some will be tut-tutting about now — yes: well isn’t that what it’s about? The works themselves? And to some degree that is true, isn’t the work, and it’s curation itself enough?
Perhaps: but the ability for the right environment to lift the works; build context; provide clues and guide visitors; evoke an emotional response and create social dynamics in three-dimensional space is incredibly important.
Great exhibition design helps us to see; the best design helps us understand.
The Art Newspaper noted this week how much retail design is becoming a focus for how galleries are thinking:
The work being undertaken in retail design is now a fundamental aspect of exhibition design,” he says. It is a compelling point. What, after all, is retail design for but to capture the rapt attention of the viewer?
With the oft-quoted statistic of most people looking at each artwork in periods measured in seconds, I’d suggest that mechanisms we can deploy to amplify and increase engagement are critical. Never mind whether you are increasing the chances of making a selfie opportunity.
Sydney Modern will do much to remedy the failings of the existing AGNSW spaces: but I don’t think that the opportunities for exhibition design that large volume, clear-span, high-ceiling spaces provide to allow endlessly unique environments that can best respond to the art and storytelling should be understated.
And it is the newest; column-less, high, large volume spaces in the basement level of AGNSW that were created out of what was collection storage to support the display of the Kaldor Family Collection of contemporary art that hosts the Kentridge show.
Since these spaces were created in 2012, they have generally (with some major exceptions for large custom rooms for things like Anthony McCall) been used as large open-plan spaces with works hung across walls, and free-standing works on the floor or on plinths; I believe this show is the first we have seen for a monograph; and as a purpose designed environment.
In a way, I’m not surprised it was a theatre designer who made this experience. When I think about many of the most magical experiences I’ve had in galleries and museums: it’s come from design practitioners from outside the traditional ‘exhibition design’ realm.
Anna Tregloan is a local practitioner that exemplifies the fruit of the particular cross-over between exhibition and theatre. Showing at Powerhouse Museum in 2016, the Dinnegan Unlaced exhibition was designed by Tregloan. From an interview with her:
Working in theatre you design spaces which the actors animate with their presence. How did you approach animating the exhibition?
While it is absolutely true that the performers are what give theatre productions life I have always considered the audience essential in truly activating the space. This is particularly true in the installed performances I present, where the audience are essential in completing the picture. The animation of the exhibition I considered in the same way and to a large extent it is the movement of the viewers in the space that’s does this work for us. By imagining the audience’s path I then wanted to conceive spaces that would both subtly and overtly shift in texture and perspective as they were traversed.
Subtly and overtly shifting texture and perspective. Not bad as an exhibition design goal?
The term Gesamtkunstwerk was first used by German philosopher Trahndorff, but Richard Wagner adopted it several decades later to explain the aesthetic ideals for his future operas.
Architectural writers have used the term gesamtkunstwerk to explain the (somewhat unusual) situation where an architect is responsible for the design of the building and all that is in and around it: the decor, signage, furnishings, and landscape.
Perhaps it no accident that a holistic approach to design; and the fact that arguably the two most expensive artforms (opera and exhibition making) could be linked…
Some images:
So after all that — why does this show work?
Materials As you enter the exhibition (from one end, the show can be traversed from two entry points) the first exhibit is a large three metre high sculpture/puppet designed by Kentridge (Semphore Documenta, 2011) - it was resting on a large plinth made of multiple panels of bulky dark coarse cork. [While there are no images on the exhibition website; you can see images of Semphone in the PCOL declaration! See — they are useful for something ;)]
At first I thought this was just some slightly odd choice of a plinth surfacing, and perhaps had something to do with the way the sculpture was used/activated — until I got a little further in and realised that the whole space had a spare, but remarkably controlled materials palette of cork, cement sheet and raw timber.
Acoustics Showing video work without sound bleed is always a challenge; building ‘boxes’ to put the work (and punters) into is the usual solution; but adequately isolating each space acoustically, allowing people to breathe (ie. sorting out aircon); and meeting fire regulations (sprinklers, detectors, exits, fire-rated materials) and meeting budget simultaneously — it so rarely synchronises into suitable space.
Lighting While careful lighting is essential in a show so dependant upon projection; the lighting is used to great effect; localised drop lamps and angle-poise fixtures lend a domestic scale, supported by light and shadow and careful attention to letting eyes adjust to the lighting level differences between sections.
Transforming a familiar space This is a gallery space I know quite well; so it was a pleasant surprise to find myself twisting and turning through spaces that now seemed unfamiliar. In part this was due to judicious choices on new temporary walls, but it was also due to a progressive ‘reveal’ of the spaces that rewarded curiosity.
Imperfection In-line with Kentridge’s approach to the ‘everyday’ materials he chooses to work with and elevate, the exhibition design walks a careful line between clean, detailed construction, and a rawness and imperfection. This balance leads to a feeling of an authentic space: somehow more approachable and ‘real’ than slick lines, shiny surfaces and anything that will show a scuffmark. This is definitely a ‘pre-scuffed’ space.
There a few misses: families with younger kids are likely to struggle; many of the heights of the display plinths are not ideal for smaller people, and the show would benefit from a family/kids tour/overlay. The highly material nature of the show and Kentridge’s practice begs for an (absent) hands-on stop motion animation play space.
Some space are provided with seating for watching; others are not — many of the works are quite long in duration, and all benefit from staying for multiple loops. Can any exhibition ever have enough seats?
And the nature of the work on loop means that you are inevitably entering the work at the ‘wrong’ point in the sequence. While most of the works have an intrinsic strength to handle a mid-arrival; nearly all have a clear beginning and end. I’ve seen some recent exhibitions of video work that have had simple screen at the entrance indicating the next ‘start’ time, that may have assisted here.
But in short: don’t miss it. This is easily the best exhibition I saw in Sydney in 2018…and there are only a few weeks remaining…
Details
William Kentridge that which we do not remember
Art Gallery NSW / 8 Sep 2018–24 Mar 2019
Free admission / Location: Contemporary galleries
Further reading
Kentridge on designing for the stage:
Contemporary artists and Gesamtkunstwerk
Sabine Theunissen interviewed on her collaborations
