Rosemary Laings utterly individual images remain in collective memory as ciphers for what it was like to be alive in the opening years of the 21st century. Its a vision of a mediated world that exists only as transmission: denatured airfields with jet planes slathered into condensed groundfog; forest landscapes frozen into a hailstorm of pixels; synthetic carpets placed in raw bluestone quarries like alien pods; stalling engines and brides falling out of the sky.
But there are deeper fault lines at play in her work. In Laings view, societies are composed of fictions, whose lack of substance is brought home in extreme situations: calamities in which the suspension of time offers premonitory glimpses of the future. Where the more efficient the world becomes, the more inefficient it really is. Where accidents are not haphazard and aleatory, but programmed, mediated, even over-determined. Consider JG Ballards trajectory of fate : the hidden path he saw in the early 1970s linking the spectacle of power with television images of fame and death.
These unresolvable results are Laings terrain: an anxious meltdown of Paul Virilio and Francesco Goya punched up into cinematic affectation in the photographic print.
According to Virilios analysis, chance and necessity have exchanged places, so that the contingent world of substance is increasingly shaped by the necessity of accidents. A single chance factor alters everything. There are small portents of trouble. The teeny screw in the upper leftuations: calamities in which the suspension of time offers premonitory glimpses of the future. Where the more efficient the world becomes, the more inefficient it really is. Where accidents are not haphazard and aleatory, but programmed, mediated, even over-determined. Consider JG Ballards trajectory of fate : the hidden path he saw in the early 1970s linking the spectacle of power with television images of fame and death.
These unresolvable results are Laings terrain: an anxious meltdown of Paul Virilio and Francesco Goya punched up into cinematic affectation in the photographic print.
According to Virilios analysis, chance and necessity have exchanged places, so that the contingent world of substance is increasingly shaped by the necessity of accidents. A single chance factor alters everything. There are small portents of trouble. The teeny screw in the upper left of the pitch indicator on the pilot's inste alive in the opening years of the 21st century. Its a vision of a mediated world that exists only as transmission: denatured airfields with jet planes slathered into condensed groundfog; forest landscapes frozen into a hailstorm of pixels; synthetic carpets placed in raw bluestone quarries like alien pods; stalling engines and brides falling out of the sky.
But there are deeper fault lines at play in her work. In Laings view, societies are composed of fictions, whose lack of substance is brought home in extreme situations: calamities in which the suspension of time offers premonitory glimpses of the future. Where the more efficient the world becomes, the more inefficient it really is. Where accidents are not haphazard and aleatory, but programmed, mediated, even over-determined. Consider JG Ballards trajectory of fate : the hidden path he saw in the early 1970s linking the spectacle of power with television images of fame and death.
These unresolvable results are Laings terrain: an anxious meltdown of Paul Virilio and Francesco Goya punched up into cinematic affectation in the photographic print.
According to Virilios analysis, chance and necessity have exchanged places, so that the contingent world of substance is increasingly shaped by the necessity of accidents. A single chance factor alters everything. There are small portents of trouble. The teeny screw in the upper left of the pitch indicator on the pilot's inste alive in the opening years of the 21st century. Its a vision of a mediated world that exists only as transmission: denatured airfields with jet planes slathered into condensed groundfog; forest landscapes frozen into a hailstorm of pixels; synthetic carpets placed in raw bluestone quarries like alien pods; stalling engines and brides falling out of the sky.
But there are deeper fault lines at play in her work. In Laings view, societies are composed of fictions, whose lack of substance is brought home in extreme situations: calamities in which the suspension of time offers premonitory glimpses of the future. Where the more efficient the world becomes, the more inefficient it really is. Where accidents are not haphazard and aleatory, but programmed, mediated, even over-determined. Consider JG Ballards trajectory of fate : the hidden path he saw in the early 1970s linking the spectacle of power with television images of fame and death.
These unresolvable results are Laings terrain: an anxious meltdown of Paul Virilio and Francesco Goya punched up into cinematic affectation in the photographic print.
According to Virilios analysis, chance and necessity have exchanged places, so that the contingent world of substance is increasingly shaped by the necessity of accidents. A single chance factor alters everything. There are small portents of trouble. The teeny screw in the upper left of the pitch indicator on the pilot's instrument panel hasn't been screwed the last half turn, and now the oxygen masks descend and sway·
The vectors of chance and volition whistle through Rosemary Laings oeuvre like javelins, embodying all the energetic qualities of hazardous experience.
Laings work maps these unnerving energies in savagely implicated sharp-focus shots. A complete balance sheet includes the eroticisation of technology, the reinvention of landscape and politics as branches of the media, the emergence of paparazzi as vampiric proxies for a public of voyeuristic stalkers. Moreover, Laings work thematises their own construction: the meta-act of making itself up is important to her, and it emerges in the stagey mock-ups, the facsimile surfaces and the slightly false perspectives. In a vocabulary that lurches between postmodern circumlocution and the swooning theatrical eloquence of St Theresa, these works ignite in a violent act, a choreography all about rehearsing oblivion, flirting with extinction, and miraculously escaping.