Category: Reviews

What is it to take a picture?

I ask that to myself and I let that question absorb me subconsciously, continuously as I render what I see into a frame so that elements of composition, light and background fuse in a balance in dependent from the subject.

The subject means nothing. 

– from the introduction of RealUnreal

What is the real nature of a photograph? Once upon a time, cameras and photographs were a means to freeze a moment in time; a memory, something that might become an instant marked in history or a simple sharing of a family activity, a moment of friendship or love or something else.

Today, however, almost everyone has a camera at their fingertips. From the advent of the basic point-and-click “instant” camera through the rise of digital camera to the merging of camera and cellphone / smartphone, we have all become photographers. And with the increase in digital editing software readily accessed through ‘phone and computer, we have all become self-styled digital artists. Further, such is the skill we have developed in using such post-processing editing tools that it perhaps prompts the question: how much of an image remains true – remains real – to its subject, and how much is “unreal”, the result of the photographer imposing their subjective interpretation of their subject through cropping, light and colour adjustments, changes in focus, and other editorial techniques?

These are some of the questions posed in  a new exhibition of images  by Axiomatic Clarity, gathered from both the physical world and Second Life, which is currently on display at Eviana Robbiani’s Vibes Gallery. The title of the exhibition is RealUnreal – which itself references the fact the images offered are from both the physical and virtual realms.

Although the methodology is a good compromise it still does not grasp what I am looking at. Do I know what that is, do I like how it manifests, do I let it change myself?

– from the introduction of RealUnreal

Across the three gallery halls and the spaces between, Axiom presents a marvellous collection of predominantly black-and-white or monochrome images, with two of the halls focused on images from the physical world, and one on images from Second Life. They are all evocative; all have a story to tell. They challenge us to see them as images offered for display and how the artist arrived at their finished appearance; that is, what is the reality of their focus and content, and how much is “unreal” – the result of that subjective imposition placed on each by the artist through the editorial process? Indeed, what does each say about the artist’s approach to photography and developing a balance between the subject of each image, and the story the photographer feels drawn to tell?

Is it possess[ion], is it obsession, is it a form of growth?

The deeper to discriminate at a deeper and abstract level, a level where the photographic language borders the inexpressible and even replaces the subject entirely … and I tentatively find that balance.

– from the introduction of RealUnreal

These are complex questions, worthy of being pondered given they are central to the photographer’s approach and execution of their art, with RealUnreal mixing fabulously expressive we have a complex, visually compelling selection of art that draws us into the questions of “reality” vs. “unreality” and the drives that govern a photographer in the creation of their art.

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• Vibes Gallery (Isola Del Giglio, rated: Adult)

Now open within the sky gallery spaces at Monocle Man Galleries, operated by curated by Kit Boyd and Lynx Iuga, The Song of the Selkie is a collaborative exhibition featuring six visual artists and the voice of Electric Monday (perhaps best known in art review circles for formerly running the excellent Sim Quarterly region and its immersive installations) that is, I gather, the first under to be opened under the umbrella title of Voice and Art.

The idea – as indicated by the umbrella title – is to bring together images and voice / music in a combined experience married to a story. However, the twist is that while each of the participating artists knows the theme of the exhibition, they are unaware of the other images being produced for the exhibition.

For The Song of the Selkie, the exhibition takes as its theme the legend of the selkie,  as brought to us through the words and music for Dutch alternative metal-gothic rock group Blackbriar, and featured on their first album The Cause of Shipwreck (April 2021). For those unfamiliar with them, selkies are mythological beings capable of Therianthropy (shape-shifting). In this case from seal to human and back by shedding / re-wearing their pelt, whilst tales of selkie often focus on female selkies being coerced into relationships with men by the latter stealing their pelts whilst they are in human form, thus trapping them.

This is the tale presented in the exhibition, with the six artists – Hilaire Beaumont, Kit Boyd, John Garrison, Lynx Iuga, Tresore Prada and Evie Ravens – each presenting what is a single frame of the story, from a man discovering a selkie in her human form through his theft of her pelt to the eventual tragedy that arises from stolen / lost love. Each image is accompanied by a giver in the form of an electronic tablet that provides a biography of the artist when touched.

A HUD offered to visitors as they enter the hall from the landing point teleport disk provides the voice element of the exhibition – lines from the Blackbriar song read by Electric Monday. Use of the HUD is simple: attach it from inventory, then view the first image in the exhibition (Lynx Iuga) before click “image 1” on the HUD. After a pause, a recording to Electric reading lines from the song will be played back; when you have heard them and finished studying the first image, click the HUD image again to turn off the recording before moving to the next image in the gallery, and repeat with the HUD, this time clicking “image 2”, then repeat through the remaining images / recordings.

The final touches to the exhibition come in the hall in which it is being staged. Within its wood interior and heavy beams, the hall carries with it a sense of it having a Celtic / Norse edge, in keeping with the origin of selkie mythology. This is increased by the mail box (inviting artists to participate in the next story to drop their details into it) that rises from the middle of the floor, appearing to be some latter-day Mjölnir awaiting the return of its wielder. Finally, at the far end of the hall relative to the landing point, a large board will offer visitors to hear Blackbriar’s song via You Tube.

Small and engaging, Song of the Selkie presents an interesting audio-visual exhibition.

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• Monocle Man Galleries (Flying Fortress, rated Adult)

There are probably very few of us who have not been shocked by the events in Ukraine that started on February 24th, 2022. The global reaction against Russia’s invasion of the country under entirely false pretexts has in many ways been seismic, involving everyone from governments down to individuals.

Within Second Life, Milena Carbone (Mylena1992) – an artist renown for her use of art to offer political and religious commentary – found herself unable to remain silent on the matter, and has developed a three-part exhibition that is both a direct response to the war in Ukraine and also a wider commentary on global relationships which may well prick at the consciousness (intentionally or otherwise) it may appear to contain; certainly, I know that viewing all three parts caused me to reflect more widely on such things.

The first element of the exhibition is located in Milena’s gallery space within her Carbon Art Studio. It is entitled Paroxysm – a term that might be used to define what should be the reaction of any caring, humanitarian individual to the news of any massive military incursion by one nation state into a neighbour, and the reaction of the people of that neighbour on seeing their worse fears realised as tanks and rocket launchers roll across their border. It charts Milena’s initial reaction to the news, and the reality of the fact that, almost one hundred years after the last rise of unbridled authoritarianism was allowed to go unchecked only to plunge Europe – and eventually the world – into the cataclysm of war, we have once again allowed to bring us perilously close to the brink once more.

In six images produced in a day, Milena offers up both hard truths and also a measure of hope. Those truths include the fact that war has always been a tool of political power, allowing the victor to bend history to their interpretation of matters; all that has really changed is the destructive power laying at the fingertips of those who would wield the machinery of war to suit their ends; the hope is expressed through identifying people’s willingness to fight for their (and our) freedoms, and that a more politically aware globalist movement of younger generations are increasingly able to see through the masks of so-called “great men” who seek only their own aggrandisement and adulation by others (and thus hopefully curtail their rise to power).

The Second element of the exhibition, Fury, is located in the open air setting of Calypso Bay.  Again the title might be said to have a dual meaning, referencing they increasingly brutal response of the Russian military in directly and intentionally targeting civilians as their campaign fails to proceed as planned (thus underscoring the truism that no order of battle survives contact with an opponent), and the almost world-wide anger in response to the bombing, shelling and missile attacks direct at the Ukraine civilian populace.

Here, the setting plays as much an important role within Milena’s triptych as the art itself. The café setting, the quaint little shops, the blue skies and beach speak to the idyll of life as we expect it – the ability to wander, shop, share, enjoy, without fear of disruption or hurt – indeed, without the shadow of fear itself. These are all things the people of Ukraine are now denied; no-one is safe, not even the innocent new-born. In this, Fury is presented as a personal appeal to the people of Russia not to stand for what is being done under the false claim of being “for them” – as indeed, many are doing in cities throughout Russia, and at no little risk to themselves.

The concluding part of the trilogy is Apocalypse, located in Dido’s Space within Dido Haas’ Nitroglobus Roof Gallery. It is a personal look at what yet come out of the unfolding situation. To achieve this, Milena uses six images to depict one of more outcomes (“children”), each accompanied by Milena prose to give each form and meaning – although the images themselves are deeply evocative.

As noted towards the top of this article, these three exhibitions not only voice a reaction to the 2022 situation in Ukraine, they also prick the conscience. The Ukraine war has, to a degree, been on-going since 2013/14, although this escalation is markedly above anything previously seen, and has rightly led to the aforementioned global outrage towards Russia and support for Ukraine. But one has to ask, when it comes to the response of Europe, where was it in 2008 when Russia launched an offensive against Georgia?

Back then our response was far more muted, with nations such as Germany and France unwilling to even apportion blame. Could it be that Georgia’s geographic location (as much in western Asia as Eastern Europe, with the “buffer” of the Black Sea between it and Western Europe) helped to make that conflict appear less relevant? Would America have been so vocal in it response, but for the manner in which another would-be authoritarian dictator put it front-and-centre in recent US politics? Or is it that we are finally awakening (once more) to the realisation that not only is war unjustifiable, but the Chamberlain approach to dictators rarely yields positive results, and a stand must be made?

And therein lies the power of art: to challenge; to cause us to question, to re-evaluate, to ask hard questions of ourselves. All of this, as well as a highly personal – one might say visceral – statement makes Paroxysm, Fury, Apocalypse well worth a visit.

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Note that all three elements of the exhibition have teleport board to the other two.

• The Carbone Studio: Paroxysm (rated Moderate)
• Calypso Bay: Fury (Beach Paradise, rated Moderate)
• Nitroglobus Roof Gallery: Apocalypse (Sunshine Homestead, rated Moderate)