ROAD MOVIES FOR CITY DWELLERS
by Alex Schuurbiers
Where is there? In Between here and there, a busy street becomes the scene and passersby become the extras. Through the camera lens, movement is the main event. A problem that can seem insurmountable: how does one go about moving house?
The answer usually is: with a little help from your friends. Boxes and furniture are passed along a human chain as an entire life is transported slowly, steadily, across the street. What is contained in those boxes? Do they carry the fantasy jewels, lighters, leather goods and watches once bought at the shop behind the traffic lights?
The this, that and the movers become interchangeable links, recreating itself in another space, only complete when pieced together again. Even though the voice-over speaks of the there, there is no there to be seen. The new space, the result, is of no interest, only the action of perceiving is.
The same could be said of In Languor, I merely wait in which inactivity draws our attention. We are voyagers in the empty waiting room of a short ferry crossing. Somewhere anonymous, in between nature and industry, all we can do is look out of the window as we are transported safely to the other side. Cars get off, cars get on, but we stay put. There is a hint of mischievousness in the air, taking the ferry for another spin as we return to the shore and back again: the destination is of no importance.
Languor can be defined as a dreamy boredom, a lack of energy which is almost pleasurable. There is something to be said for the state of lethargy one feels when they are passively moving, on a train or in the backseat of a car. A moment where nothing is expected of you other than being, breathing.
In Silent Sun, we watch an interplay of light and leaves from behind bamboo blinds, as we would dreamily on a slow afternoon. Like In Languor it captures a state of idleness to which we should all occasionally strive. A way of seeing what is in front of you every day with unweary eyes.
In the book Non-places Marc Augé states that “perhaps today’s artists and writers are doomed to seek beauty in ‘non-places’, to discover it by resisting the apparent obviousness of current events.” Even more so, paying attention to seemingly small or unimportant endeavours can be seen as an act of rebellion. In lives which are stuffed to the brim and forever focussed on results, there is pleasure to be found in the in-between. Where is there? Furthermore, does it matter?