WHAT
BINDS US by Bélisle Julie,
Art Curator
Projected, the video image has
something immaterial and impalpable
about it, as if it were completely
detached from the physical world.
Still, its capacity to mould
itself to every surface it encounters,
to diffract against every medium
placed in its path, to become
one with every form of matter,
reveals its vast potential for
adherence to the real. The foregoing
represents a host of possibilities
that point to the malleability
of the video image and indicates
the extent to which each one
is first and foremost a material
thing, existing only through
the support the artist chooses
to provide.
Philomène Longpré
strives, among other things,
to bring the image back into
the concrete context of the
world. Her work is constructed
around a desire to establish
communication between the physical
world and the virtual world
through ingenious installations
that play with new technologies
in ways that turn them to her
own advantage. Despite the announcement,
made by a number of theoreticians,
that screens are slated to disappear
or at least become invisible,
it is by foregrounding screens
that the artist gives weight
to her images. I refer here
not to the kinds of screens
that have proliferated in our
day-to-day environment —
to those on laptop computers,
cell phones, electronic agendas,
public display boards, and the
like. On the contrary, the artist’s
kinetic screens overshadow us
with their imposing scale and
use of unusual materials to
play with our perceptual apparatus.
Suspended structures hover over
us with all their weight, while
their movements sometimes create
the illusion of evicting the
characters that inhabit them.
For Longpré’s screens
are inhabited. In them, someone
lies in wait for us, for information
supplied by our very presence
and transmitted via motion detectors
as they pick up our movements.
The artist works in that zone
where the screen and the projected
image come into contact, employing
technological devices that reconstitute
the image by literally becoming
of a piece with it. Apart from
the surfaces that Longpré
invents, the influence of experimental
film is pervasive in her visual
language. Her references to
the film genre are revealed
by the same disorientation of
our customary practices, a certain
disruption of narration and
an exploration of psychological
states. Each time we have to
try to find our point of entry
into her images; thus interactivity
plays a key role in her installations.
Our presence is what initially
draws us into them, as we proceed,
through our movements, to modify
the ways in which the images
are projected. Longpré’s
moving images are, for the most
part, spatial frameworks for
fictionalized narratives that
evoke different worlds, each
belonging to virtual characters.
In these pieces, technology
serves as a linking device:
the artist combines images,
colours and sounds, connecting
them to infrared sensors, robotic
screens and computer programs
that, taken together, constitute
an imaginary space attached
to the physical space.
The creation
of characters is a constant
feature of Longprés’s
recent work. Key figures in
her video systems, they adopt
human forms and strive to establish
communication with their environment.
Taking her observations of daily
interactions as her point of
departure, the artist uses personification
to embody the ideas she takes
from them. Formica anthropomorphizes
human attachment, that is, our
capacity to create connections
with others, links that exist
by virtue of our impulses, our
communities and
our involvements. Formica, which
means “ant” in Latin
(the French word is fourmi)
deals in fact with the web of
connections that can be woven
between a virtual character
and the public. A character
waits for an interlocutor and
is activated whenever someone
steps into its space. It is
draped from head to toe in a
red outfit, the top of which
extends beyond the upper edge
of the image, giving the impression
that the androgynous stooge
is held in place by a filament
leading into an adjoining room.
But if inference plays a major
role in our apprehension of
others, what signs can we derive
from a figure who stands before
us without appearing to belong
to any particular culture?
Let us
note first of all what it does:
it observes us, sizes us up
in a manner somewhat akin to
the way in which we appear to
examine it. Aware of our movements,
it seems to see us advance.
Mutual observation comes into
play and a first connection
is established as we venture
to draw near. At this point
a process is activated, one
that increases the appearances
of links represented by red
filaments and strips of fabric
that stretch Formica and disturb
its movements. The work is gradually
imprisoned by this accumulation
of physical connections, generating
reactions in the robotic screen
that seems to contain it. A
system of pistons stretches
the 16 horizontal plastic strips
of which the screen is composed.
The spaces between the strips
set off the character more sharply,
while a cross-hatched, coloured
shadow forms on the wall. The
stretching of the screen stops
once most of the connections
have been severed. The structure
then springs back to its original
shape and Formica looks around,
as it were, for the attachments
that had held it, as if suddenly
nostalgic for what it has just
lost. A pile of red filaments
lies at the figure’s feet,
like a pool of colour.
If, on the other hand, no visitors
make their way into the space
of the interactive video, none
of the foregoing events take
place. There is no movement,
no receptive action. But the
moment we arrive everything
kicks into gear, launching a
four-phase cycle through which
the character unfailingly makes
its way. It is as if we were
in the presence of hyperimages,
of interconnected strips between
whose interstices we could,
as it were, navigate. Then the
video sequences follow one upon
the other, the ductile screen
tests the limits of the image,
and a sonorous tension resounds
in the space. Longpré's
images take us into a fictional
world, but the whole range of
artifice with which she surrounds
us stems from reality itself,
particularly from the whole
range of sounds picked up by
sensors. The same holds for
the noise of the valve system
that activates the screen and
gives us the impression that
we can hear the image breathing.
The installation brings us up
against the action our movements
produce in the system. Do we
really exert some sort of control
over the image? Or are we not
Formica’s puppets? For,
in the end, the interactive
video invites our participation
only to set in motion an apparatus
that has been preprogrammed
by the artist. Perhaps the work
juxtaposes layers of possibility
associated with our predictability,
with a circuit it determines
and on which we in turn can
act. We believe that we are
seeing the direct result of
our interaction on the visual
object and that this interaction
steers the computer program.
Let us say, finally, that the
question of the relationship
to the work of art – a
relation with the visitor, to
be sure, but also one with reality
– is dealt with in a veiled
manner in this installation.
Formica activates a system of
non-discursive communication
and uses paralanguage with its
devices and its actions to draw
closer to us. In the sequential
unfolding of the piece, a visual
connection is established with
the character. This is then
multiplied, in the process reminding
us, perhaps, that what binds
us to people and things is rarely
something contained or mastered.
Joining with others, uniting,
coming together, being held
in a web of connections —
these shape us in as many different
ways, probably, as the filaments
and pieces of fabric transform
Formica. Julie Bélisle
Biographical
note: Julie
Bélisle
holds a master's degree in museology
and works at the Galerie de
l’UQAM. She is currently
pursuing a doctorate in art
history, which deals with the
processes of collecting and
accumulating in contemporary
art. In addition to publishing
articles on artistic practice
in urban environments, she has
curated a variety of exhibitions
focusing on cultural heritage
issues and is involved in research
projects on the ways in which
material culture is bound up
with memory.