Twilight & White Stain

Situated in a peeling, dilapidated Queenslander south of Burleigh, “These Houses and Rooms” utilises the ‘house’ as a symbol for the structural nature of contemporary society; encapsulating internal and external facets, simultaneously defensive and decayed, with particular elements deliberately on display, with others surreptitiously concealed. The home, which has, for so long, been a symbol of stability and comfort, becomes a menacing playground for deceit, anguish and secrets in the Twenty-First century. This exhibit features the works of Gregory Crewdson and Jane Burton, who both utilize the symbol of the house in distorted photographic pieces, explore two different angles of contemporary society and the modern ‘home’. The exhibition is a divulgence of the unseen, the ghostlike, and the terrifying manifestations that plague homes, giving us a psychological and social wake-up call.

Photographic artist, Gregory Crewdson, is characterized by his elaborate depictions of American households and his use of vivid symbolic imagery to create portraits doused in a disturbing hyperrealism. Working within a predominantly socio-political context, Crewdson manipulates the technique of photomontage to explore the dark underbelly of contemporary society, using the house as backdrop and container. The Twilight series is a collection of exaggerated and intricately staged portraits of women and families from suburban homes, which juxtapose those elements of the home that remain purposefully hidden. Crewdson’s pieces resonate by exploring masked truths and the fabricated nature of Twenty-First century society; the slightly surrealistic quality given to his photographs transcend reality, and the complexity of his constructed images highlight the seen and unseen.

Using the pseudo-realistic medium of photography to create hyperrealistic, surreal images, Crewdson transcends the audiences’ ingrained perception of the world (an external link to an overview of surrealistic photography and its ability to alter perceptions is provided here). The viewers’ acceptance of the surrealistic subject matter generates mystification and enhances the intended meaning of the works because they operate within a backdrop consistent with reality and within a medium that suggests truth and realism. The photographs are snapshots of a terrifying suburbia; in Plate #17, a young girl sits up on a small bed, basked in light, while another older woman, presumably her mother, sleeps peacefully. She is staring intently at something beyond the frame. This is a device commonly employed by Crewdson; often, the eeriness of his compositions lies in the mere suggestion that there is something chilling lurking beyond the photograph. In others, Crewdson uses mirrors, a powerful symbol of truth and/or chicanery, in order to incorporate subject matter without overtly placing it in the fore- or middleground. This is seen in Plate #9, where a woman sits at a vanity table with a three-panel mirror. In two, the ciew sees different angels of the woman reflected, and due to the contrastingly warm colours in this portion of the photograph, it is an immediate focal point. However, as the viewers’ attention drifts between the three images of the woman, a shadowy, ominous nude is evident emerging from a doorway. This figure appears intrusive and, due to her physical placement in the photograph, the viewer becomes unified with her. As with all of Crewdson’s images, it leaves the viewer with the uncomfortable feeling that they are invading the shameful, hidden private life of the subject. It is Crewdson’s clever manipulation of the seen, the unseen and the not immediately seen that makes his work relevant to this exhibition; operating within the vessel of the home, Crewdson’s images allude to dark stories of a disturbing, dysfunctional suburbia.

Jane Burton is a relatively unknown Australian artist, whose baleful manipulation of her subject is a revisitation of the female nude; just as this exhibit relooks at the concept of the ‘home’, Burton revisits the nude body (this essay explores some of Burton's influences, and why she manipulates the body in such a traumatic nature). She uses this malevolent depiction of a traumatized woman in her series, White Stain, to allude to events unbeknown to the viewer; the woman is isolated, naked and faceless, in a dirty, uninviting house. In contrast to traditional nudes, the woman lacks sensuality, as if she has been stripped bare of these characteristics, while her facelessness suggests objectification. Insinuations of deceit, suffering and torment are not novel, but Burton’s photographs are atypical; the woman is situated in a home environment, which should be comforting, and this increases the feeling of foreboding.

In White Stain #6, the woman stands erect and stripped, with shadowy bars and dappled light concealing her face and much of the background. The strong tonal contrast draws attention to her exposed skin, with additional shadows falling over the dimples in her skin and giving her a disturbing, tortured appearance. The desaturated, cool colours create a dark, timorous mood, and the viewer, apparently peering through the bars at her, feels invasive, as if they are leering at her while she is in such vulnerable state. Burton is making a covert statement about the nature of pain and invasion; by placing an exposed, objectified woman behind bars, the viewer becomes voyeuristic, and guiltily aware of their own imposition.

The squalid, somber house of White Stain #4 exacerbates the uneasy discomfort aroused in the viewer; instead of reclining on homey furniture, such as a bed, the woman assumes an awkward position on a perceivably hard seat, the floor is concreted and the walls are stained. Burton, however, says that the "implied narrative" of her pieces is not as important as the mood created, and she consistently creates an apprehensive mood that disconcerts the viewer (Soumilas, 2009). The direct contrast to the traditional comforting house assists in creating meaning, because the viewer unconsciously recognizes the elements of the home, but they surpass traditional understanding of what is ‘homey’, and become calamitous and disconcerting. In combination with the confronting nature of photography as a medium, the images seem powerfully real.

With similar media and personal aesthetics, the great difference between Crewdson and Burton lies in their chosen context; Crewdson explores society from the outside looking in, while Burton explores an internal, underlying, largely psychological reality. Crewdson exploits the bloodcurdling and sinister secrets that underpin axiomatic, corporeal society, to communicate the deeper, clandestine culture kept veiled. While Crewdson examines this from a social perspective, Burton delves into the intrapersonal denouement of this shattered society. The work of culturally diverse artists, Crewdson and Burton, come together to make a unified, evocative statement about the sinister nature of the house, and all that it represents.