Centre; footage of a whaler alongside the underbelly
of an enormous blue whale, slicing open its blubber to ‘harvest’ its organs.
Left; vast swarms of butterflies emerge from the forests of Mexico.
Right; more
swarms of butterflies make the journey to escape above the forest canopy.
Cut.
Centre; a harpoon from a 19th Century whaling expedition blasts into
trans-oceanic waters.
Just as simultaneously as there is a scene of literal ‘cutting' happening in John Akomfrah’s ‘Vertigo Sea’ the ‘art’ of his particular style of filmmaking is a similar, albeit debatably less/more butcherous process of cutting and editing...
“What is the
essence of the director’s work? We could define it as sculpting in time. Just
as a sculptor takes a lump of marble, and inwardly conscious of the features of
his finished piece, removes everything that is not part of it- so the
filmmaker, from a ‘lump of time’ made up of an enormous, solid cluster of
living facts, cuts off and discards whatever he does not need, leaving what is
to be an element of the finished film...”
‘a cultural history of mankind at sea as both victims and
perpetrators’, the 48 minute film uses edited together footage from BBC Natural
History and BFI archives alongside newly shot footage to create moving and
multiple narratives about the sea, our relationship with it and ideas around
migrations, displacement and ecology. The
work draws on a radio interview from young Nigerian migrants to Herman
Melville’s ‘Moby Dick’ and Heathcote William’s poem, ‘Whale Nation’.
I was fortunate to have seen the film previously at
last year’s Venice Biennale, literally stumbling across it unexpectedly but
being interested almost instantly. There is something hypnotically engaging about Akomfrah’s work that beckons you to stay
and linger which I probably put down to the use of three screens and the amount
of visual variety/juxtaposition this creates within the work; as though one
image is having a conversation with another. Secondly, the imagery itself is
very strong photographically and in its fragmented state plays a lot on memory
and traces of past lives, people, events and places (like attempting to
assemble an intriguing but ever-shifting jigsaw!). On Saturday 16th
Jan having seen it a second time I realise just how rich and layered it is, on one level because of the visual adjustment of having to process three screens at
once and more deeply, because of the amount of overlapping ideas, narratives
and symbolism within the work that there is always something new to be
interpreted and seen. In many ways it combines some of the ‘dreamlike’ qualities
of a Tarkovsky film with aspects of documentarian realism creating a state of
flux between the two. During, ‘A Conversation with John Akmonfrah’ that took
place on the opening weekend at Arnolfini, writer and art historian, Anthony
Downey described ‘Vertigo Sea’ as “...open
to different ways of interpretation...as being both illusive and elusive...and
always seeing something new.” The very title, 'Vertigo Sea' even prompts associations with 'a loss of balance' that is so reminiscent, for me anyway, of the visual documentary, 'Koyaanisqatsi' from the 80s that looked at mankind's increasing disassociation from nature and significantly, its title also translating as 'life out of balance'. 
When questioned on the significance and reason behind
making a film about the sea Akomfrah responded by referencing having read Moby
Dick whilst younger and not really engaging with the work (I have known many a
book fan to say the same) and that because it is a ‘masterpiece’ it ‘becomes
something else’; and can no longer be treated in the same way as you’d read any
other book. It is, I gather, from what anyone has ever told me, a challenging read,
that requires more effort but in turn whose rewards come through discovering
its themes, madness vs. ambition, capitalism and multiculturalism to name a
few. When Akomfrah re-visited Moby Dick in his late twenties these themes
became clearer and more relevant to current events. In some ways ‘Vertigo Sea’
is Akomfrah’s attempt at presenting some of those themes for today’s audience. Akomfrah
also shared he had once nearly drowned in the sea as a child (psychoanalysts
read into that what you will), but I do not see the work as being autobiographical
comment but a more social one. He stated that, historically and culturally, “...everything
tends to be land-based,” and that it was time for “a discursive dialogue across
sea”, continuing to describe the sea as a, “neutral space” in the way it is
open to so many possibilities (being both gentle and turbulent or unforgiving);
much of which is reflected in the propulsion and attraction of images used in
the work; from the uncomfortable to the sublime. 
Speaking of the sublime, the newly shot footage in the work
takes the form of a Casper David Friedrich style painting as historically
dressed figures stare out to sea (often amid an arrangement of upturned furniture and
ticking clocks) as though waiting or contemplating the events of the past in the
footage played alongside (pictured left). These shots and sound of the clock help thread the
work together and add an element of stillness and importance of time and
reflection to the work that stops the whole thing becoming too frenetic. They
are also amongst the more symbolic and dreamlike footage in the work and have
echoes of the as equally haunting ‘Unfinished Conversation’ which documented
the life and endeavours of academic and socialist, Stuart Hall. In that film
identity is ‘likened to an unfinished conversation’ and is forever shifting and
remembered differently. Some of these ideas reflect Akomfrah’s own concerns with
ethnic and personal identity having been born in Ghana and growing up in 1970s
London.
 |
| 'The Unfinished Conversation' 2013 |
Ethnic and cultural identities are reoccurring themes addressed
in Akomfrah’s films, in ‘Vertigo Sea’ shown in different ways, through the
multiculturalism of the crew on the Pequod in ‘Moby Dick’ and with reference to
the17th Century slave trade (contextually making Bristol a poignant place to show the first screening). A scene in which bodies of slaves are washed-up
onto a beach having been deliberately thrown overboard into the sea are chillingly
almost prophetic of recent events involving refugees escaping Syria. Akomfrah
shrugs off any such claims as coincidence to recent events claiming that whilst
not intentional the use of the, “...archive has nothing to do with the past...it
is not history but how the present may begin to understand the future...” It is
non didactic but asks political questions around identity and
how we understand migration and people. Certainly the opening sequences of the
film featuring accounts from Nigerian migrants who survived an illegal crossing
of the Mediterranean addresses just that, with a more stating of the facts
rather than being preachy to the ethical or moral rights or wrongs; I think it asks the
viewer to make their own opinion.
As a passionate fan of films (as in movies), it is in
some ways strange that I’ve never had as much enthusiasm towards film art shown
in galleries or even making film myself. So it takes something very special to
make me compelled to sit and watch a film in a gallery for a length of time,
there are a few; Christian Marclay, Matthew Barney, Elizabeth Price, Mika Rottenberg, Bill Viola
and, it goes without saying, that John Akomfrah has since Liverpool Biennial 2012
also been on that ever increasing list. I see no reason why anyone who loves
film, who loves photography, documentary and visual art generally wouldn’t find
something significantly worthwhile in Akomfrah’s films. Specifically ‘Vertigo
Sea’ is as rich, varied in its ability to unbalance and shift; as immersive and
as undulating as the sea itself.
And not to mention that you can see it for FREE! So why wouldn't you?!
‘Vertigo Sea’ is
on at Arnolfini until Sunday 10th April
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