Tony Round
I've just watched Snow again. Motion, stasis, that dull state of waiting…
Being only too familiar with airports and train stations, i’m at a bit of a loss for words about this one. That however is one of the things i like about this piece: its familiarity and matter-of-factness. It’s funny but i actually feel a bit let down when the jet finally goes screaming off. This final image is almost post-coital in its diminishing of the anticipation and anxiety which led up to that moment. But then it is that banal release that reveals the until then hidden eroticism of the wait, for waiting is never sterile but pregnant with its own particular tone and sensibility. The delay replete with a wordless, if not outright thoughtless potential for being and the mute angst which lies at the heart of living.
Michael Tweed
posted by geoffrey
3 Comments:
hey, hey...congratualtions on the site! i really like the home page layout, not to mention the user-friendly navigation.
the contributions you have are varied, but all definitely fall withing a certain defining perameter. although i must say, my sensibility is a bit rusty with regard to "decoding" most of the video pieces, which are very subtle. having said this however, the discussions on the blog page along with the accompanying statements on the individual pages go a long way to helping one find a compass to navigate with.
My favorite piece was "Snow," perhaps because it is so easy to relate to, with that damn insidious "train station soundtrack" it's all too familiar to anyone who has lived in rail-user countries, like all those years i spent in France. it's almost like a mantra that is burnt into one's head - similar tones, the Roissy airport seventies synth bleep; but the train station "ding, dang, dong"... well that is just eerily present.
again, really nicely done!
simply amazing!
Here is my take on snow. . . I enjoyed it thoroughly and wrote this review:
In “Snow”, by Tony Round, the viewer is instantly engaged through the use of an equalizing fact of life: the weather. Through the title and the first image, we are confronted with a physical and symbolic experience particular to a common geography. The weather is a familiarity we share, and specifically as Canadians we recognize this signifier of our culture instantly.
Round takes us through a series of video images, accompanied by a rhythmic, monotonously executed audio track that seeks to create a place and feeling. Infused with a calming track, this piece lulls the viewer into a passive space, utilizing a robotic paced voice and vaguely familiar loudspeaker chimes, reminiscent of a subway platform. The collection of video imagery flips through a snow-blowing machine, a plane, trains and finally highways challenging our ideas of what a piece entitled “Snow” should be about.
On the surface, Round presents a video about travel, landscape and different seasons. However, through the use of audio and carefully selected clips, the viewer is tempted to look at everyday experiences and question how they define us.
“Snow” is a three minute video piece embedded in an html page, which is part of the frail.ca website. Set up as online digital artist exhibitions, various pieces are available on this site to the public. “Snow” is a montage of video pieces linked together over an audio track.
This is not an interactive work, as the viewer has no control over the video playback. This is intentional and controls how the piece is viewed and consumed. There is no pause, skip forward or back button, forcing the viewer to watch the entire piece, or exit the video all together. This maintains the integrity of various elements in the work, including the rhythm of imagery and audio, which are important to this piece.
This style of exhibiting mimics aspects of a gallery setting. Even though the viewer is choosing the experience on the computer in, there is no control over the actual video, similar to watching traditional video pieces in galleries.
The imagery of trains is one of speed and a sense of being a third party. The viewer is taken over endless track, colourless rail beds and whizzes by blurred countryside, too quickly to catch a glimpse. Repetitive rail-ties are evenly spaced, devoid of detail, mile after mile.
We jump to a highway clip, pavement stretched out before us, identical light posts disappearing into nowhere as our knee-high view puts the far-off distance below a slightly curved horizon. Monotony is present here too, as the viewer is presented with the inevitable reality of highways. Car after car passes buy as we straddle a sinister artificial gorge, created between two raised highways.
We are interrupted intermittently by the jarring video of a plane overhead, as we feel small in comparison to its power and weight. The lilting audio is brazenly overpowered by the excessive snarl of jet engines as we stand beneath it, backed by a dull grey sky.
Throughout the piece, we are taken back to the original video of a large snow-blowing machine. Filmed on a snowy, quiet night, the viewer is removed from the reality of the cold and finds comfort and peace in these moments. Shown in slow motion, a delicate grace seems to lend itself to the massive machine. It is the last image we see and contains the only human figure visible in the piece.
Round has revealed the insolating and calming nature of snow. With the combination of sound and video, we feel peace and a sense of security while viewing the winter clips in “Snow”. Juxtaposed against the fast, modern transportation imagery filmed in the summer months, we see what is commonly accepted as efficient methods of getting the job done, over and over again, day after day, represented in the monotony of travel and commute.
What can be seen as extreme and undesirable weather can also be understood as symbolic for our inability to effectively understand how our creations can bind us to identities we do not desire. We can move around the world at an alarming pace and constantly stimulate ourselves with technology and invention. Round has us examine how these experiences tie us to each other and the landscape. We must carefully consider the quality of what we desire and take a second look; perhaps to shift our values to ideas we once considered snowstorms.
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