Enclave, n. – a part of a country entirely surrounded by foreign territory
‘By contrast with the beautiful and the picturesque, the sublime is associated with awe, danger and pain, with places where accidents happen, where things run beyond human control, where nature is untamable.’ – Land Matters, Landscape Photography, Culture and Identity, Liz Wells, 2011
The electrostatic whine of feedback reverberating around this darkened room accompanies the crimson shades of ‘Enclave’, the photographer Richard Mosse’s latest Congo Project.
Trapped in its own subterranean world – this overspill display forms part of the Deutsche Börse Photography Prize exhibition at the Photographers’ Gallery, and manifests itself as a stream of consciousness halfway between dream and reality.
In this disconnected space, the curatorial process can be taken as a fundamental element to the work itself. The lack of visible light paradoxically makes the viewer more aware of their own presence while negotiating the strange hypnotic properties of the images.
The inspired act of selecting (practically) obsolete military surveillance film, which renders vegetation in lurid red and magenta hues adds to the symbiotic relationship between content and context. Cast out from the pristine white walls of the gallery, these images are further removed from their documentary roots and engage more with the conceptual notions of representation – particularly with regard to our consumption of images of Africa as ‘other’ or ‘apart’ from western experience.
Six bed-sheet sized transparent screens hang from the ceiling, adding to the immersive nature of the work. Onto these are projected infra-red moving images from the Congo, a place where the death toll – 5.4 million since 1998 – mirrors that of the holocaust. Much like the unfathomable extent of this tragedy, the project deals less with the specifics of the ongoing conflicts, and more with a dark psychological brew into which fact and fiction melt and dissolve.
Given this universal treatment, beauty and the sublime, albeit as something of a technical construct, are never far from the surface. A languid descent of a hillside down into a refugee camp is made cinematic with the expert use of a steady-cam, before laboring, somewhat uncomfortably, on a father holding a child in the belly of the camp. This methodology is the antithesis of the Photojournalist grabbing at action, and seems to have more in common with theatre or other performative fiction.
Mosse, filmmaker Trevor Tweeten and sound recordist Ben Frost, have chosen to view this troubled land through a prism in an attempt to extract some hidden truth from a story as impenetrable as the surrounding vegetation. By rendering the infra-red into the ocular range, they have managed to successfully re-frame the conflict and, in so doing, have turned technology used for warfare back in on itself to show its raw, hallucinogenic underbelly.
The exhibition continues until the 22nd June.