Art Review: The Seven Scenes Of Barry Lyndon | 3/5
SINGAPORE — The Seven Scenes Of Barry Lyndon is the first solo show for Justin Loke, who is one-third of much-feted artist collective Vertical Submarine, better known for their humorous, intricate installations. And although it is billed as a painting show, the overall impression is somewhat installation-esque.
SINGAPORE — The Seven Scenes Of Barry Lyndon is the first solo show for Justin Loke, who is one-third of much-feted artist collective Vertical Submarine, better known for their humorous, intricate installations. And although it is billed as a painting show, the overall impression is somewhat installation-esque.
Upon entering, the first thing you might notice is that the show is lit by surprisingly bright candlelight. No, it is not to set up some close, intimate mood; it is a nod to acclaimed director Stanley Kubrick’s preference for using candle and natural light in the interior shots of the movie, Barry Lyndon — which Loke has used as the source for his paintings. It’s also a chance to experience paintings as people might have done back before the electric light came about.
The paintings themselves are hung at various heights, reminiscent of salon-style hanging, packed together from floor to ceiling. It’s another nod to paintings-like-they-used-to-be, as well as a moment of disorientation, perhaps, for the contemporary viewer. Under the flickering candlelight, once-intricate figures are somehow indistinct.
The Seven Scenes Of Barry Lyndon constantly shifts gears: From William Thackeray’s original novel (and Thackeray’s own fascination with the English artist William Hogarth) to Kubrick’s film adaptation and Loke’s subsequent re-framing, the show is full of subtle (and not-so-subtle) references. Other famous paintings are on show, if you can spot them, as well as various well-worn conventions of painting.
Most relevant to the overall thrust of the show might be “mise en abyme”, displayed to great effect in The Boy Reading. It’s basically a painting of frames within frames — both the literal, physical frames, designed to recall elements of Kubrick’s film, as well as more abstract sorts of framing, such as the idea of “framing” a painting exhibition in Objectifs, which is better known as a gallery of photography.
It seems like a rather cerebral sort of game, best-suited for art historians with a penchant for Kubrick films, leaving the rest of us to wonder what we’re missing. That’s not to say that you can’t enjoy the show without an encyclopedia in your head — indeed, exploring the oodles of connections and layers without worrying about being right is quite fascinating too. Bruce Quek
The Seven Scenes of Barry Lyndon runs until May 20, 11am to 7pm, Objectifs Gallery, 56A Arab St. Closed on Sundays and public holidays. Free.