Peter Friese
Hinters Licht / Behind the Light
Thoughts on a work by Jean-François Guiton
derrière la lumière. With his work "Hinters Licht
(Behind the Light) / derrière la lumière," Jean-François Guiton
presents a video installation he developed specifically for the exhibition
space in the Kunstverein Ruhr at Essen's Kopstadtplatz. Its moving images
and sounds not only embrace the entire space, they also include the viewer,
whose behavior and reactions become part of the work. In addition, this
moving work of media art is visible particularly in the evening hours
when it can be viewed from outside through the exhibition space's large
window, prompting chance passersby to take a closer look at it and ultimately
enter the exhibition space. Even outside of the Kunstverein's official
opening hours, "Hinters Licht" can be seen from the square
until midnight and is quite in a position to arouse curiosity. All in
all it is a multi-media and interactive video installation that integrates
the perceptions and actions of the viewer and makes them their theme,
and it is definitely worthy of more intense examination. This small catalogue
is not only intended to document and accompany "Hinters Licht /
derrière la lumière" for the duration of the exhibition, rather
using images and text it is also meant to point beyond the exhibition's
limited "run." At the same time, Jean François Guiton's typical
artistic treatment of new media technologies in general, and of video
and sound in particular, will be examined and interpreted.
Rotating tubes. Images and sounds make up the foundation
of Guiton's work in the Kunstverein and completely redefine the exhibition
space. The most prominent elements are moving projections of long white lines
that cover the walls and the two pillars of the space like a permanently
rotating, bright network. At first glance it looks as if two laser beams
or "light sabers" were at work here, such as those one believes
to be familiar with in the popular space tale by George Lucas. However, upon
closer examination the bright streaks prove to be video projections of long
neon tubes constantly rotating and superimposing, truly setting into motion
an otherwise dark room. If one pays a bit more attention, one can make out
the ends as well as the holders of the fluorescent elements. This is not
about using the most up-to-date media technologies; these are moving images
of the good old neon tube. But Guiton composes an abstract network out of
the images of the fluorescent elements; by doubling and superimposing them
he transforms these commonplace, everyday objects into a moving, rotating,
and at times irritating game of pick-up-sticks.
"Musique concrete." These restless images are accompanied by a permanent flow of high, fine, almost transparent sounds. This not very loud but clearly audible backdrop of sounds makes up the acoustic background for said video projections. From the outset it is obvious that these sounds must have something to do with the video images, that they at least complement or serve, so to speak, as "background music." And yet if one listens more closely, one realizes that these sounds are those produced during the starting process of a neon tube. Expressed in onomatopoeic terms, one hears a permanent "ping ping ping," which acoustically supports the bright streaks flashing over the walls. Guiton compresses the sounds, which otherwise are only audible for several seconds at most during the switching operation, into a continuous rhythmic concert. He has designed an acoustically interwoven carpet of sound parallel to the visible network of intersecting and superimposing light projections. Both of them are naturally perceived together, and they also make concrete reference to one another. One could call what one hears "musique concrete," music that consists of sounds that have been found in everyday life, sampled in a special way, and finally "composed" into something new. And it is not a recognizable melody that makes itself lastingly noticeable, but clearly the rhythm of returning starter sounds that determine what is acoustically audible, at the same time comprising a plausible connection to what is visible. "The sound vestment is dominated by varying repetitive, rhythmic stretches of time. This sound vestment is always in relation to the image body—both of them form and influence one another, and the meaning of the whole is based in each instance on this specific interplay (...).1
Inachis io. The focus of the overall work consisting of visible and audible elements, however, is the video image of a colorful, life-size butterfly hanging in a small box between the two pillars in the space. In its frame, the butterfly, which is obviously a peacock butterfly, is presented like a specimen in an entomological collection. However, it has not been lifelessly pinned down, rather it moves unremittingly. The colorful pairs of wings open and close in a regular rhythm, time and again revealing four large, in part metallic blue, shimmering peacock eyes outlined in black against the red background of the wings. In the viewer's perception, the rhythm of the beat of butterfly wings, the constant opening and closing, automatically begins to correspond with the rotating movements of the tubes and the audible rhythm of the starter sounds. Yes, it appears as if the moving insect is capable of directing or even of controlling the images and sounds in the space, as if the proverbial breath of air created by the beat of the butterfly's wings could produce a chain reaction, a cooperation of image and sound. As if the "control center" of the entire installation, which controls, so to speak, the microcosm of the space, were contained in this small box.
Withdrawal symptom. When the viewer approaches the
small box to have a closer look at the colorful insect, the images on
the walls and all of the audible sounds vanish abruptly. However, if
one moves away from this point of interest, the sound concert and the
images recommence automatically. Of necessity, after several advances
it becomes clear that it is the viewer who silences the projections and
the sounds, and then revives them. Or rather that the viewer's need to
examine the image of a butterfly more closely is capable of stopping
the entire "symphony" of images and sounds. After it has been
understood that this in itself frustrating experience is programmatical
and therefore unavoidable, it is recognized as an intentional element
of the overall installation. The pre-Socratic philosopher Heraclitus
once said "Nature loves to hide," (
) 2 foreseeing
a dilemma confronting our (Western) civilization. Indeed, Guiton appears
to have staged something like a hiding or a "withdrawal symptom" triggered
off by the viewer. In this video installation it is as if we were moving
towards a loudly chirping cicada in order to observe it from very close
up, but our convergence instead silences the insect and so we are never
able to set eyes on it.
Nature morte. It soon becomes clear to the well-meaning viewer that this is not the natural beat of the wings of an "Inachis io," which is the scientific name of this beautiful butterfly, but that these are computer-animated images. Indeed, the graceful beat of its wings was not recorded from a living insect, but generated instead using an existing photograph. The true origin of this only seemingly living butterfly is not "nature" as such. Rather it was created on a computer monitor using the virtuoso application of image programs capable of symmetrically mirroring and shortening in perspective butterfly wings. The results of this manipulation were then subsequently assembled into an apparently coherent sequence of movements, and in this way an image was seemingly able to be brought to life. Indeed, it is the perfect regularity of the phenomenon and the evenness of the movements of the continuously opening and closing wings that speak for the artificialness of the virtual butterfly. The insect as such could have long since been dead, while its computer-animated image and therefore its basically perfected counter-image is capable of blinding us to the fact of its actual absence.
Apotropaion. As viewers in this part of the world, what we experience as particularly beautiful, remarkable and "decorative" about this very colorful butterfly is a measure devised, so to speak, by nature in the evolutionary process in order to deter natural enemies. If, for instance, a bird wants to eat the insect, by opening its wings the butterfly is capable of briefly giving the impression of being an even larger animal—such as an owl or even a cat—naturally feared by birds. This moment of shock between life and death often works to the butterfly's favor. It's medusa-like stare and the wide-open eyes, and the fact that the predator's own gaze elicits a counter-gaze, may indeed frighten the bird off. Looking at it this way, what we are dealing with here is a twofold delusion: on the one hand Jean-François Guiton is presenting the computer-animated image of a peacock butterfly that is only available as a photograph. On the other hand, the evolution-related motif of the large eyes proves to be a ploy devised by nature to ward off enemies. Thus we are dealing with a very complex arrangement of signs used by Guiton as reflected elements of the work as a whole.
Enlightenment. The word "enlightenment" makes direct reference to the ambitious idea of bringing "light" into the darkness of the world and its history. Guiton's proverbial reference to this fundamental idea and declaration of intent with regard to civilization is unmistakable. Most of the titles he gives his works contain these kinds of references, allusions and ambiguities, which meaningfully correspond with the respective work. Indeed, with "derrière la lumière" it is the possibility of the repeated application and interpretation of the term "light." Because what "jemanden hinters Licht zu führen" means in a proverbial and generally accepted sense is "to deliberately deceive someone." 3 Taken literally, however, it means leading someone to a place where the light being emitted by a lamp is shaded, "behind" the light into an area where one may perhaps not be able to see everything at the same time, but where one is also no longer blinded by the light. This brings to mind Plato's famous Allegory of the Cave, in which being "led behind the light" possibly enabled comprehending delusions and illusions as such in the first place. If one takes this variation on the meaning seriously, one easily arrives at the concepts of deception (Täuschen) and disappointment (Ent-täuschen), whose two elements receive new meaning in this way—because disappointment also contains the end of deception, in the spirit of enlightenment implying a state worth striving for.
Dialectic. Added to this (which both clarifies and complicates things) is the fact that in a literal sense, by reflex action insects tend to fly into light and therefore often burn. Guiton is not only aware of the ambivalence of deception and disappointment, but he is also conscious of the actual danger of a straight notion of enlightenment or éclaircissement up to the tragic degree of obscurity and blindness so aptly described by Adorno and Horkheimer in their "Dialectic of Enlightenment": In the shadow of Auschwitz, "Myth is enlightenment and enlightenment already myth" is one of the most ground-breaking theses put forward by culture philosophy and the critique of culture, which also leads to the critique of reason, in the twentieth century. 4 Guiton's tribute to this disquieting knowledge does not, however, turn into a poor illustration of something already thought of, rather is occurs using artistic means in the spirit of Aby Warburg's "space of contemplative awareness." By working at the same time with ambiguities and different horizons of allusion, Guiton enables the viewer to have an aesthetic experience that can only be had and conveyed here. Art thus becomes a means of recognizing, and also of pondering doubt.
Interactivity. Whenever "interactive video installation" is mentioned, one immediately thinks of viewer participation that goes beyond a mere persistent and contemplative gaze. It is a matter of being integrated into the work itself: what the viewer does manifests in the installation in the broadest sense, influencing it and at least temporarily changing it. However, this is where misunderstandings may arise. Guiton is not concerned with any little buttons being pressed, controls being operated or light barriers being set off, which would allow viewers to assert, so to speak, a sensual-playful influence. As Guiton understands it, interactivity primarily includes recognition as an element of an aesthetic experience. Acting and walking around in the exhibition space in Essen does not serve the purpose of purely formal or technical image animation, rather precisely in the case of the basically frustrating experience of the silencing and stopping of the video images it is an opportunity to pause and experience deeper reaching insight.
The viewer is in the image. Indeed, after a certain amount of time has passed considering this work, it becomes clear that the need itself to want to examine something very closely, hold on to or even "possess" it is what causes the projections and sounds of this installation to fade away. And it is precisely this in itself very simple insight that in the end has the chance of becoming a deeper reaching aesthetic experience. The aim is not only the reciprocal relation of cause and effect, rather in a figurative sense it is the comprehension of the cultural determinedness of this experience. It is also about comprehending one's own physical presence in the space as a basic condition of perception and aesthetic experience, as Maurice Merleau-Ponty so appropriately writes in his "Phenomenology of Perception." 5 In the end the viewers become the artist's allies. They do not merely see the phenomena in front of or beside themselves and understand to appreciate them with indifference or decipher their meaning, rather they begin to reflect on their observations, impressions, feelings and finally their physical presence in the act of perceiving. They become viewers who understand to reflect on both the visual and acoustic presentation in the space as well as on the conditions of the possibilities of their experiences, who comprehend these discoveries and in part irritating experiences as culturally mediated in order to (basically and absolutely in the sense of a critique) advance beyond them.
- Peter Rautmann/Nicolas Schalz, Flüchtiger
Augenblick. Zur Rolle von Bild und Klang in den Videoarbeiten von
Jean-François Guiton. Published in abwechselnd gleichzeitig—gleichzeitig
abwechselnd, Kunstverein Ludwigshafen am Rhein, Ludwig Museum im
Deutschherrenhaus Koblenz
2001, p. 25 - cf. Jaap Mansfeld; (Ed.) Die Vorsokratiker (Les Présocratiques) I, Stuttgart 1983, p. 252/53 Fragment 123
- Translator's note: This German proverb literally translates as "to lead someone behind the light." The corresponding English proverb is "to pull the wool over someone's eyes," which although it makes no direct reference to "light" per se, does imply the same thing as its German equivalent.
- Theodor W. Adorno/Max Horkheimer, Dialectic of Enlightenment: Philosophical Fragments, Stanford 2002.
- “ Maurice Merleau-Ponty, Phenomenology of Perception, New York 2002.
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