To
enter into the worlds of Czech surrealist Jan Svankmajer - onscreen
or off - is to immerse oneself inside a singularly imaginative mind.
Whatever the medium involved – film, puppetry, sculpture, collage,
poetry or animation – Svankmajer has amassed a body of work as
deeply engaging as it is wildly eclectic. As noted in this month's
print issue of Sight & Sound, the 2013 edition of Brighton
Cine-City Film Festival will be screening a complete retrospective of
Svankmajer's short films and six features, many of which will
subsequently tour the country. Alongside other special celebratory
events, The University of Brighton Gallery is hosting the month long
exhibition Jan Svankmajer:
The Inner Life of Objects. Split
into two sections – Natural History and Film – the exhibition
encompasses three dimensional creations, posters, illustrations,
puppets, film clips, sets and props that either act as a nostalgic
treasure trove for those familiar with Svankmajer's work or as an
enlightening entry point for those new to it.
The
Natural History (Historia
Naturae)
half of this compact but diverse exhibition captures the essence of
the artist's work - alternately playful and disturbing, realistic
yet fantastical, on the one hand evoking fairy-tales and on the other
nightmares. Animal skulls and bones, feathers, watches, twigs, glass
eyeballs, minerals and shells are just some of the materials
Svankmajer has employed in the creation of a menagerie of fantasy
creatures. Mostly skeletal in appearance, these fictitious beings
feel familiar despite their obvious unreality, containing enough of a
likeness to real species' to warrant their recognition as such.
Wandering from cabinets of curiosity to the accompanying, richly
detailed anatomical illustrations that line the gallery wall is to be
educated in the ways of Svankmajer – his humour and childlike
inquisitiveness, innate artistic talent and deep connection to worlds
both real and imagined. There is a primitive, naïve quality to the
assemblages that belies the skill of their creation, their lifelike
quality forging a strong dialogue between Svankmajer's work in other
mediums. He once said that 'I
don't actually animate objects,
I coerce their inner
life out of them',
and encountering these strange creatures goes a long way to affirming
the statement.
Viewing
the collection of film related pieces that make up the second part of
The Inner Life of
Objects is
a no less tangible experience, for while numerous
monitor screens show selected clips from Svankmajer's shorts and
features, the space is dominated by many of the creations seen in
those films. If the Natural History pieces are the, literal, bare
bones of Svankmajer's imagination, the Film pieces are the meat on
them. Little Otik is present, complete with the assortment of extra
pieces used to animate the tree stump-baby, the mouse from Alice
(1988) is to be found sat atop a wig, and a quite beautiful set from
the same film – featuring a combination of puppets and cardboard
cut outs – draws the eyes into its magical tableaux.
Dominating the
space, however, is a frankly terrifying crucified figure, hung high
on one wall. A prop seen in Svankmajer's Lunacy
(2005), the form is, justifiably, horrific. Nails protrude from
almost every part of this tragic, sacrificial victim – the humour
seen in much of the rest of the collection is decidedly absent in
this depiction of an already brutal form of execution. The crucified
figure is an unmissable reminder that while Svankmajer's work is
often playful it is also as embracing of the repulsive. That the
repulsion comes from the depiction, however exaggerated, of human
cruelty and the playfulness comes in the shape of the bizarre
creatures drawn from Svankmajer's own imagination says much about the
man, his work and his worldview.
