Genie in a bottle: Tony Oursler at Chelsea Physic Garden by Rebecca Geldard

by pmaxwell, 26 September 2008

In a week of historically unparalleled economic shifts there is something rather decadent about a one-off champagne-sponsored video-art event in a stunning, scientifically significant garden location. I am not sure why this, likely the shortest ever Tony Oursler art intervention came to be (a PR stunt for his solo show currently on at Lisson, a showcase for collectors, or just because he can?), but I like it. And it is a truly temporal intervention, in terms of time in existence and means of manufacture, for ostensibly nothing about the manicured setting of the Chelsea Physic Garden appears to have been changed. But, the nocturnal atmosphere created here, I would warrant, is quite different for those charged with the nightly turnabout.

Tony Oursler, Found Gin, 2008
Courtesy of the artist and Lisson Gallery

Chelsea is a place out of time and admission to the site, through a discreet doorway in the garden wall, leaves one feeling like the unwitting subject of a specially-ruined-for-television period drama, given the incongruity of our attire and the low but audible moaning and flickering light coming from inside. There is no one around and as I stumble up the path into darkness (gravel, spike heels), recalling one of Ourlser’s more disturbing video works at Lisson (a woman becomes the jug in a ‘Waters of India’-style trick involving seemingly endless amounts of red fluid), wonder what it is I’m in for.

Tony Oursler, Gingko Twin, 2008
Courtesy of the artist and Lisson Gallery

A frozen couple, inky statues facing left at the first fork in the path, alert me to the presence of a multi-screen woman whose self-focused monologue breaks down into a battle between different facets of her personality. In many ways it’s familiar Oursler territory – fracture of the self in the info age; projection onto an inanimate object ¬– but in this case the surface is the conjoined mass of foliage from two trees, which unlike walls, plinths, or his trademark dolls is designed to bend and sway in accordance with the elements. The holes between clumps of growth distort her face in ways more synonymous with horror film CGI than video art. Quite what Oursler is inferring about women with this witchy narcissist, is open to question, but the verdant backdrop successfully pulls the mind away from more obvious performative associations and into the psychological territory of the human subject: as both bio and techno facet of the botanical landscape.

Tony Oursler, Liquid, 2008
Courtesy of the artist and Lisson Gallery

I decide to get some Dutch courage before venturing further into the undergrowth, and on the way to the marquee encounter a toxic green bottle projection nestled in a tree. At the moment of discovery a small person appears to be dancing in the lurid confines of this ‘screen’, like an electrolysed Tinkerbell. Later, a male figure with large hands shuffles in and out of view implying that this virtual space has Tardis-like proportions. It kind of fits with the air of scientific discovery pervading the place (the garden was established for botanical study by the Society of Apothecaries in 1673) but obscured by branches and drowned out by that woman is tricky to decipher.

Tony Oursler, Winston, Camel, Salem, Marllboro, 2008
Courtesy of the artist and Lisson Gallery

I join a group, of whom I presume to be collectors in the gloom, following the artist on an informal tour in time to get the low-down on the last work. The artist graciously responds to many (un)related questions thrown at him over the din of a video of children spouting all manner of acronymised gobbledy gook and folkish fancy. Projected onto a screen positioned at the edge of a pond, this eerie, but nonetheless humorous and tender choir, appear to be coming at you with their expressions from all angles. As you try to decipher the reasoning connecting each chapter of the performance, the ticks and quirks of the changing ensemble cast swim into view: embarrassed girl-teen sniggers into camera, the gargoyle seriousness of a wild-haired boy struggling to follow the autocue.

Oursler explains that the work has evolved out of a period spent in a Chelsea school in NYC, doing workshops around the introspective creativity inspired by gaming and mobile devices. The script is littered with references to virtual worlds and text messaging speak that I struggle to place – a rude reminder, perhaps, of just how quickly the language of technology is moving. I wonder if these are the culture makers of the future and what they might deliver. It’s perfectly placed, from the approach – disembodied spirit kids chanting in the watery darkness – to the contrastingly human experience of being amongst them. The unpredictable quality of the child subjects brings a different sense of risk to this work to that fabricated by actors in others.

Tony Oursler, AWGTHTGTWTA (Are We Going to Have to Go Through with This Again?), 2008

There is talk around the pond of a big Oursler commission at Gare du Nord and having just been there I can almost smell the diesel-infused air and feel a moment of excitement at the monumental possibilities of the space. In answer to one member of the tour’s enquiry: yes, these works (as the show at Lisson is proof) can hold their own in any white space, but for one night only let’s just enjoy the fact that they’re somewhere else.