Beneath the depths of the sea eventually lies a man. Face as still as acceptance - accepting the voluntary fate he has thrust upon himself. As the sound of murky wooden planks touching elbows in the darkness of the Fabrica building develops a kind of rusting ship smell only possible in the submerging of water. Perhaps it was the rain last night but this seems to be a lot more prominent with the wet streets and sodden socks of the visitors in and out of this space.
My mind is led many ways, and strangely to a portrait of a man - almost 20th century like. I thought this was part of the building until I noticed the polished frame and occurring theme of green. It was intentional. I instantly thought of the artist and the gentle acceptance of a dying out existence, one by one a starting with the artist first. But that is much too morbid, and I believe more in the idea that the artist is more metaphoric than physically present.
Amongst the five TV sets there is a murmur of green amongst the wooden planks. Although we are not damp in here, we feel a kind of wetness. The first thing you might notice is the video above our heads that takes us above water as our heads rise to the surface breaking the barrier of the sea edge. We remain submerged as we glance behind us hanging in balance between drowning and exacerbated survival. As this does sound very dramatic, the room is almost tranquil, a bit like roaming around the sea-life centre 20 years after it has closed down. Luckily it is still going strong.
We are left in the artist’s woe and deep thought. A place no-one should completely enter. For the artist is the subject and the sea just works to make his imagination felt. Every thought he had at the particular moment is there to see but we cannot see it. We cannot see what is going on inside his head.
And to trump this review before you have finished reading, I am beaten to the best review made so far - an 8 year old boy going "Geez, are we in lazor zone". I am not even going to try to top that review. Well played, well played.
The exhibition runs from the 4th October until the 23rd November
Opening hours Weds-Saturday, 12-5pm
BPB 14 @ Fabrica, Brighton