Being Ernest Shackleton

London St. Projects

Easily the most brilliant new work seen in Los Angeles for some little span of time was a group installation called Being Ernest Shackleton at London Street Projects. The gallery was fitted with a video camera on its roof, where a replica of the disaster was suggested with rope and wood and sheets of Styrofoam broken up to stand for ice floes. A black and white image was conveyed to the gallery, where it was projected onto a circular screen [Fig. 5]; the camera could be rotated from below by turning a mock-up of a submarine periscope. On the last night of the exhibition, spectators were invited to view the rooftop installation. You walked up a steep wooden gangway [Fig. 4] fitted with hand ropes, and then climbed a short ladder.	Fig. 1
Not everyone knows the story of Shackleton’s terrible fate and his heroic rescue of the crew who sailed with him, as indeed I found out that night on the roof. A small boy was dancing about, smashing as many pieces of Styrofoam as he could, and asking his parents who Shackleton was, anyway. They didn’t know, either. Visitors were asked to come in costume, and failing to find anything really suitable, Heather Lowe came as a NASA astronaut [Fig. 5], while I wore my Beverly Hills sweatshirt and pretended to be a tourist. These costumes sowed confusion in the family, but the sight of a 3-D camera made it bubble over. “Isn’t that cute,” I forestalled. “I didn’t think they made those anymore,” volunteered the mother. Pop said nothing.	Fig. 2
On close inspection, the roof (which was only intended to be viewed with the camera) actually resembled the famous painting by Caspar David Friedrich [Fig. 3]. There was an admirable calculation in the mock-ups [Fig. 1], the mere suggestiveness of which, amid the icy Philistine blight of a moribund city, was lightning, was inspiration. Simple forms, simple execution, a few masts, sprits, a wooden winch…	Fig. 3
The view in the gallery was amended by having a personage dressed as the Spirit of the North (or Pym’s vision) accost the lens with sheets of Styrofoam, translucent and mysterious. At night, a hand could be seen crumbling blocks of the stuff to bits floating in the air like snow falling. In the slow snow lepers descend. (Char) The surreal image of a chandelier in the gallery [Fig. 5] occasionally rising or falling on its cord was found to be caused by spectators operating the winch at moments, peradventure.	Fig. 4
As the spectators and artistes mingled sipping wine on the roof, and the camera was moved about with its floodlight attached, the snowy personage with its strange mask stared in close-up at the viewers [Fig. 2], and now the camera turned and rested on a burly bearded gentleman in the middle distance. One of the artists, or only a spectator?	Fig. 5

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