by
Patrick Sutczak
At the still point of the turning world, Neither
flesh nor fleshless;
Neither from nor toward; at the still point, there the
dance is,
But neither arrest nor movement, And do not call it
fixity,
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement
from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the
still point
There would be dance, and there is no dance.
T.S. Eliot, BN II: 16-21
It
is important to read that beautiful piece from T.S. Eliot’s epic Four Quartets in order to appreciate the
deeper emotional and ontological associations with Darryl Rogers' Waterwalkers currently exhibiting at
Sawtooth ARI in Launceston.
A
brief but carefully worded blurb attached to the corridor on the way into the
exhibition gives us a clue that Roger’s work is rich with complex ideas
featuring time, no-time, quantum theory and matter fused with Eliot’s exquisite
poetry.
I
enter the familiar darkness of Sawtooth’s New Media Space and am confronted
firstly with a dual landscape projection piece almost intersecting in the
corner of the room. Familiar, but not, what appears to be a landscape complete
with a horizon line shimmers and shifts reminiscent of the view from a train
window, yet not as simple to process. Because what I am seeing isn’t going
one-way. I will refer to it as a landscape (though I could be wrong). No
matter, for it isn’t behaving like one. Forwards and backwards at once, the
dual projections offer a mesmerising show without becoming disorientating. Nor is
it frustrating because there is a sense of the familiar and of passage, yet the
inability to let my eyes settle on what I think is there, makes me aware that
Rogers' work is trying to prompt me to experience the concept of time in an
uncanny way. So it becomes interesting rather than unsettling.
While
the projections hold my attention, there is an elephant in the room. Cleverly
shaded to blend into the darkness, Waterwalkers
achieves its namesake through a rather large installation component. The fact that
the room is roped off with a discrete partition suggests that I am being
directed toward the front of Rogers' construction which is essentially a tall
black box with a long platform stretching from the back of it. While I know it
is there, I soon forget and forgive once I walk to the front of it. The
mechanics of the exhibition disappear and I understand that this is what the
artist wants me to see. And it is quite a show.
A
very vivid, almost holographic, figure floats in front of me. It is dressed in
white and walking on water (though like Rogers' projections, not as I know it).
There is a collection of tuned elements at play - the water is real, the figure
is not. The figure isn’t just one either, it becomes many. Male, female,
youthful, aging, tall, short, walking forwards, or backwards, or both. All
intermingle and challenge my linear brain.
In
conjunction with that, the dual projections now dovetail with the walking
figure(s). Everything is happening at once. Literally.
Rogers tells us in his statement that he has employed the technique of a Peppers Ghost
to achieve his fascinating effect, which in some ways isn’t necessary as Waterwalkers is more than process, and
the trickery need not be revealed. One only needs to read the excerpt from Four Quartets to understand that this is
poetic embodiment. Waterwalkers
embraces theatrical design for sure, and after a while the complexity of the
piece creeps into mind, but that should be ignored because this isn’t a case of
how.
Waterwalkers, for me, is about standing
in the sweet spot in darkness and attempting to isolate the narrative – the
singular layer. But I can’t. And that I believe is the point. Waterwalkers isn’t so much tapping into
the metaphysical, the ontological, and the material – it is taking all these
theories out to dinner and forcing them to get to know each other before going
separate ways.
It
is clear to me that Waterwalkers carries
some weight, and that weight is composed of intelligent thought, complex
theory, practical skills and Rogers' sensitive disposition to composition and
the evocative power of Eliot’s words.
Where past and future are gathered. Neither movement
from nor towards,
Neither ascent nor decline. Except for the point, the
still point
There would be dance, and there is no dance.
Thought-provoking
and fascinating, Waterwalkers is
exhibiting at Sawtooth ARI until the end of June, though I do hope it travels.
