Scene 4: The Broken 4th Wall
There's a word I'm trying to remember, for a feeling I'm about to have (a distracted path towards extinction)
2016-17
Mixed media installation with single-channel video, earth, found objects, and bleached black denim pillows
See Also
The other works in The Broken 4th Wall.
Scanning, by Amy Lee Sanford
Falim House: Observations
2013-15
Ten-channel video with sound
Singapore Art Museum collection
The Past in the Future
Film is rapidly progressing in the 21st century. Today, it is no longer about being the passive viewer in cinemas, but rather a form of interactive media[19]. It is becoming increasingly easy for viewers to crossover into the world of art, due to technological advancements[20]. As such, artists themselves have started to question their roots, and try to incorporate their heritage into their work.
Our past, our heritage, in the futuristic film medium. In this section, we explore how the past is being represented in the future. I will be writing my thoughts about two works that are very similarly themed, yet leading in opposite directions.
Film
Hayati Mohktar explores the notion of ‘what was once there‘ with her work, Falim House: Observation. Once a majestic mansion[21], it lays in a state of suggestive ruins today. Time has come to a standstill in the house, where the occupants of the building have seemingly left it in a hurry, in the middle of activity. Mokhtar’s work, which consists of separate short videos, require audiences to walk around the room to view the full work. Videos of different parts of the house are installed in different sections of the exhibition room, transforming the room into a replica Falim House.
Viewers get to ‘walk’ through the house, transforming their movie and museum experience into something more than just passively watching a 2D film.
Society
The exhibition acts as a time capsule. Even though the installation consists of small videos, they are almost like still images. It is as though time stopped, and it has not moved on since its last occupants evacuated the place. Viewers get to see every part of the house in its original state—albeit aged—without needing to worry about anything else[22]. The only things drawing us back to reality are minute movements, reminding us that life is still going on outside the house.
My second visit to this installation gave me a fully different feel from the first—from curiosity and awe, to slight fear and hesitation. Visiting firstly in a big group, I felt like I was going on a treasure hunt. But when I went alone the second time round—even the museum attendant was not there—the room gave off an eerie vibe, and that was when I truly felt how empty the place was. The notion of preservation seemed meaningless at that point, since it was void of vitality. Falim House is now a looming shell of what was once majestic.
Falim House: Observation may be a work that attempts to connect with our past, in this place that appears to have been left behind by time. Nevertheless, there is one point that is made clear:
No matter how much we try to preserve the past, once we strip it of its life, it is hard to return it to the state it once was in.
Society
Film
A video when the scene changes faster than the information is being absorbed, resulting in a broken flow of knowledge intake—that is what Korakrit’s film is. This film is formed seemingly by a collage of many different works. The parallel storylines, about Korakrit’s brother’s wedding and of a possible life after humans, inter-cross with each other. We never really know which scene belonged to which plot, because they are too similar and the scenes move too fast for viewers to register anything.
The video is a cycle; the final frame flows into the opening scene. Although fluid, this only further creates a sense of broken flow: we don’t know where to start nor end, as the video continuously attacks us with information.
Korakrit talks about Man’s technology consumption. The quick scene changes are meant to mimic modern information consumption: fast, in massive quantity, continuous. We take in information in big chunks, and sieve through what we really want after[23].
The broken information flow connotes a memory lapse. This metaphor is supposed to portray the aftereffects of humans uploading memories online, a function enabled by technology[24]. However, isn’t this also representative of us relinquishing our control over our memories to technology? What happens when technology fails? Would this be akin to losing our identity?
This leads to the central theme—human’s reliance on technology. Technology has become such an integral part of our lives, it has become synonymous with Man. Even after we leave this world, our technology will still be left behind us.
Korakrit suggests that our reliance will cause us to lose our individual identities. He tries to preserve his own identity by embedding events from his own life into this work, turning it into more than just a film. It has a function in the real world as well; as an eternal piece of documentation of his life. Furthermore, this exhibit installation also included props from the video itself, which serve to bridge the film into reality.
Despite watching the film multiple times to understand it, its relevancy draws me to this work. The blurred lines between reality and fiction leaves me questioning about where the boundaries of the film truly end:
If we took a picture of the film, are we not becoming part of the film ourselves?
Scanning
