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by
BBC South Yorkshire's
Oonagh Jaquest |
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First
the disclaimer: I don't know Duchamp's rabbit from Jive Bunny.
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| Jive
art bunny: Scene from The Marcel Duchamps Rock (Chenu de Clermont). |
I couldn't
even name the popular art rabbits, from which the burlesque dancing
rodent in Chenu de Clermont's short film is descended, if forced
by Mr McGregor with a shotgun in the lettuce patch.
So
it was with some curiosity that I joined fifty or so art students
and a smattering of my fellow curious in the ascetic surroundings
of S1 Artspace - a warehouse project space tucked away behind Corporation
nightclub in Sheffield.
S1
/ Salon is intended to act as a platform for artist-made short films,
screening works in 16mm, Super 8, VHS and DVD format, of which The
Marcel Duchamp's Rock is just one.
The
curators have used a modest Arts Council grant and sponsorship from
the Devonshire Cat pub to assemble a refreshing selection of work
by emerging and established artists in informal salon-style surroundings.
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| Cod
product placement: Scene from "Celebrity Wedding of the
Year Sponsored by Burgundy Leisure" (Susannah Hewlett in
collaboration with Russell Purdham and Pete Beck) |
That's
salon as in intimate, laid-back and replete with artists happy to
chat over a very cheap beer, not as in Jennifer Aniston doing L'Oreal
product placements.
Appropriately
enough for anyone who yearns for the louche glamour of that former
sort of salon, the theme for this, the fifth screening, is "Cabaret".
Sinuous
celluloid
The
opening film A Phantom Treat Exposed, is a mysterious and
mesmerising little number: a striptease in reverse in which a shadowy
figure in negative sinuously replaces her clothing before melting
into the celluloid.
The
silvery tones of the hand-processed film remind me of Man Ray's
iconic solarised prints.
Then
we're on camp territory in The Thrill is Gone, with an artist
impersonating a drag diva miming along to the title track in sequins
and feathers.
Dodgy
divas
Here's
a puzzle for the artistically challenged: just what is the difference
between watching a film artist impersonating a drag diva miming
etc. and going to your local gay venue and watching a drag diva
miming etc. etc.? Answers on a dada postcard please!
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| Robotic
bodies: scene from Solarium, by Finnish artist Hanna Haaslahti |
But
the beauty of S1/Salon's format is in the brevity of the pieces
- if you're not convinced about something, you're soon onto the
next one.
The
musical theme which underlies all of the films makes subtle connections
between pieces, which helps to make the whole experience more accessible.
Robotic
bodies
So
Solarium, a high-energy video in which the rhythmic movements
of aerobics become hypnotically robotic to a pumping techno soundtrack,
somehow chimes with the Anne McGuire's jerky Garland-esque diva
(I Am Crazy and You're Not Wrong), whose fitful dancing and
warbling makes her seem ever more like a madcap puppet.
Two
of the best received films of the evening are hilariously simple
and subversive takes on popular music. A reedy-voiced choirboy in
a cathedral solemnly sings "Wandrin' Star" with on-screen
karaoke lyrics, complete with bouncing ball in Roll-in Along.
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| Wandrin
Star: Roll-in Along by Newcastle artist Matt Stokes. |
The
song was made famous by an altogether less angelic Lee Marvin in
cowboy flick Paint Your Wagon:
"Do
I know where hell is? Hell is in hello.
Heaven is in goodbye for ever, it's time for me to go."
For
sheer comic incongruity this can only be topped by the hit of the
evening, Benny Nemerofsky Ramsay's I Am a Boyband. Our hunky
hero plays all four simpering and harmonising members of a boyband
as they wiggle, pout and emote to a catchy madrigal with naff synth
pop backing.
Queer
as pop
Simon
Cowell eat your heart out! If only hot, piercing shafts of love
weren't too close to the bone for Sam, Mark, Gareth et al, I'm sure
the record companies would be plundering John Dowland's Elizabethan
repertoire for its sweet melodrama and exquisite melodies. Swoon.
Bona-fide
rock heroine PJ Harvey crops up in Amaeru Fallout. Specifically
she appears wearing a kimono and singing The Three Degrees' "When
will I see you again", in a benevolent falsetto.
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| Shafts
of hot love: Benny Nemerofsky Ramsay's I Am a Boyband. |
This
is the closest we see to a film with a traditional narrative: two
Japanese girls are transplanted to the West Country, where they
go to school, sleep in the same bed and generally illustrate the
Japanese verb amaeru: 'the attempt to draw close; depend; belong'.
And then sadly separate.
Amaeru
is a concept with which devotees of psychologist Dorothy Rowe's
self-help books will be familiar. Anyone looking for a cure for
anxiety may have come across the assertion that Western culture
lacks a word to legitimise this need to be close to someone.
Fairy
rock-mother
Sarah
Miles' film is too eliptical to draw any conclusions, but it's an
intriguing riff on intimacy. And a damn sexy riff too, what with
PJ Harvey in full diva mode, playing the role of ambiguously seductive/benevolent
fairy-godmother over a reassuringly dirty bass line.
Musos
who missed out on this star turn, would do well to come along to
the next, and final Salon in the series on Thursday 26 February.
Curator
Michelle Cotton says that the musical theme will continue, this
time focussing on all things punk and rebellious. I can't think
of a more interesting way to accompany an impromptu Thursday night
pint.
The
next S1/Salon is on Thursday 26 February 2004, 7.00- 9.00 pm @ S1
Artspace, Trafalgar Court (the courtyard adjacent to Corporation
nightclub).
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