Video umetnost nastala iz susreta tv tehnologije i multimedijalnih eksperimenata koje su

izvodili umetnici Fluxsusa sa teznjom da stave umetnost na ispit zivota. Video instalacija
prostorni odnos predmeta i video sistema.Video art se izvlaci z razlicitih umetnickih vrsta,
kako iz komunikacijskih tako i izinformatickih teorija. Pod naletom kompijuterske
tehnologije Primena videa u radu umetnika u punom smislu

zapo"cinje sa sedamdesetim godinama. U op"stoj ekspanziji medija koja nastaje

tada, videu se prilazi kroz ideal lake manipulativnosti i njegove otvorenosti prema

svim oblastima izra"zavanja u smislu "cistog rada, dokumentacije, registracije,

komunikacije, instalacije... Sa prvobitnim zanosom je dovoljna bila kamera i umetnik

ispred nje ili sa njom, pri cemu je umetnik uspostavljao neposredan i blizak odnos sa

medijem u istovremenosti odvijanja kreativnog procesa i kontrole samog rada. Na

relaciji umetnik-kamera-monitor je vladala ravnote"za i osecanje sigurnosti i moci

nad medijem u potpunom usagla"savanju mentalnog i manuelnog bavljenja. U drugoj

polovini, odnosno na kraju sedamdesetih dolazi do razila"zenja umetnika i medija, do

razdvajanja uspostavljene romanti"cne i organske veze koja je sta jala iza Mac

Luhanovih re"ci i shvatanja medija kao produ"zene ruke.

Promene su jasne: osamdesete godine prenose to"zi"ste sa bavljenja videom na pojam

kori"scenja videa, personalna veza umetnik-kamera gubi svoju nekada"snju

primarnost sa "sirom profesionalizacijom upotrebe sredstva, a pluralizam sadr"za ja

zamenjuje jezitcko jedinstvo i "cistu formu sedamdesetih. Prenosenje teii"sta rada na vecu

upotrebu elektronske tehnike,dovodi do pojave novog video speci jaliste (reditelja) koji sada

videu prlstupa kao poznavalac, istra"ziva"c i korisnik novih mogucnosti video tehnologije.

Jezik videa zadobija novu terminologiju: rez, montaza, kola"z, elektronsko vreme, TV

kompozicija... U paralelnom

procesu popularizacije i komercijalizacije videa, sve zna"cajniju ulogu odigra vaju samostalni

video studiji ili video centri pri institucijama, gde umetnici

-mogu da rade pod odredenim uslovima, i takode, pojavljuju se u novoj funkciji

The Reflecting Pool predstavlja seriju od 5 autonomnih radova koji opisuju etape
umetnikovog putovanja kroz cikluse rađanja, smrti i ponovnog rađanja, slike prelaska
dana u noć, pokreta u statičnost, vremena u bezvremenost. Pasaži koji beleže
moždane vizije i složenost percepcije istražuju granice između svesnog i nesvesnog
perceptivnog iskustva. Serija spaja osnovne izvore inspiracije u delu Billa Viole - uticaje
orijentalne filozofije, fenomenologije, naučnih teza o sećanju i svetlosti, teoriju
relativiteta, borbu suprotnosti.

Video rad The Reflecting Pool (1977-79, 12 min.) zasnovan je na temi krštenja ili
duhovnog rođenja (u radu se pojavljuje sam Viola), Moonblood (1977-79, 12 min.) na
temi žene i fenomena ženstvenosti, Silent Life (1979, 13 min.) beleži pojavljivanje
novog života, dok složeni rad Ancient of Days (1979-81, 12 mins.) istražuje vreme
otkriveno u zvuku i slici, sa prirodnim i subjektivnim vremenom.

Najzad, Vegetable Memory (1978-80, 15 min.) istražuje različite nivoe percepcije kroz
sled snimaka riblje pijace u Tokiju koji se kontinuirano ponavljaju.

Four Songs (1976), 33 min.

Imenujući ove radove "pesmama", Viola jasno ističe važnost muzičkih struktura i
poetike romantizma u njegovom delu.
Čovek koji pokušava da levitira, dok leži na đubrištu u Junkyard Levitation, vizuelna
je dosetka na račun koncepta "uma nad materijom". Songs of Innocence, direktnim
obraćanjem vizionarskom romanticizmu Williama Blakea, otkriva simboličke prizore
dece koja, pevajući, nestaju i ponovo se pojavljaju, evocirajući složenost vizuelnih
odnosa koji postoje između sećanja, zalaska sunca i smrti.
U radu The Space Between the Teeth, zasnovanom na strukturi fenomena akustike,
filmska struktura hodnika metafora je tranzicije između dva sveta, koju premošćuju
katarzični krici pojedinca. Poslednji rad ovog ciklusa Truth Through Mass
Individuation sukcesivno razvija sve agresivnije akcije pojedinca koje kulminiraju
besnom gomilom na otvorenom stadijumu.

16. avgust
The Passing (1991), 54 min

Kao meditacija na temu stalnog pretapanja granica snova i svesnog stanja, sećanja i
zaborava, života i smrti, The Passing konfrontira posmatrača sa klaustrofobičnim i
enigmatskim slikama iskopanim iz tamnih rezervoara snova i nesvesnog. Snimci
čoveka (koga igra Viola) koji nemirno spava i teško diše u snu, smenjuju se sa tamnim
pejsažima pustinja i plaža, slikama izolovanih zgrada i ruina, ljudi koji tonu u vodi,
prvim pokretima novorođenčadi, smrtnom posteljom stare žene, širokim prizorima
tunela koji, kao pasaž predstavlja ključni element ovog rada. The Passing je nastao na
osnovu umetnikovog iskustva dva esktremna događaja, čija koincidencija gotovo da
miri smrt sa životom - kada je njegova majka umrla u isto vreme kad mu je sin rođen.
Impresivni rad koji kombinuje osnovne teme umetnikovog opusa.

Angel's Gate ( 1989), 4 min

Nizanje individualnih slika zasnovanih na smrtnosti, raspadanju, dezintegraciji,

označeni su dugim, sporim potamnjenjem do crnog. Sekvence voća koje pada sa
drveta, gašenja sveće, porodice koja se fotografiše, pojavljuju se kao serija otvaranja ili
trenutnih uvida u osnovne izvode prirode koji su, poput misli, osuđeni da izblede i da
se dezintegrišu u zaborav. Osvetljavajući nejasne granice između sećanja i zaborava
vrstom univerzalne svetlost, objektiv kamere kreće se duž tamnog betonskog tunela
prema gvozdenim šipkama zaključane kapije, gde se, konačno, probija prema svetu,
oslobođenom sveobuhvatnom belom svetlošću sopstvenog razotkrivanja". (Bill Viola).

Reasons for Knocking at an Empty House (1983), 19.11 min

Predstavlja snažno i asketski ozbiljno ispitivanje doživljaja sopstvene ličnosti i tela u

uslovima potpune izolacije, tokom dužeg vremenskog perioda. Delo je nastalo nakon
pokušaja umetnika da ostane budan tokom tri dana, zatvoren u sobi u jednoj praznoj
kući. Statična kamera beležila je efekte nemilosrdnog protoka vremena na izolovanom
pojedincu, dok suptilne transformacije svetla i zvuka i korišćenje širokog objektiva
stvara prostornu neodređenost, izobličava posmatračevu percepciju vremena i
prostora, iluzije i realnosti.

23. avgust

I Do Not Know What It Is I Am Like (1986), 89 min.

Epska potraga za samospoznajom, koju Viola opisuje kao "istraživanje unutarnjih

stanja i vezanosti za animalnu svest koju nosimo u sebi". Naziv je preuzet iz sanskrita
Rig-Veda koji definiše procesiju kroz rođenje, svest, primordijalno postojanje,
intuiciju, znanje, racionalnu misao i veru koja vodi ka transcedentalnoj realnosti
 "izvan zakona fizike". Organizovan u okviru 5 celina Il Corpo Scuro (The Dark Body),
The Language of the Birds, The Night of Sense, Stunned by the Drum, and The
Living Flame, rad se zasniva na metafizičkom putovanju racionalne i intuitivne misli,
od prirode do duhovnih rituala. Razvijanjem snažnih, amblematskih slika i
alegorijskih pasaža, Viola artikuliše dramatičnu potragu za samospoznajom kroz svest
o Drugom, koji je ovde otelotvoren u vidu šamanske vizije životinjske svesti.

Pise: Nikola Suica

Pogled u ostvarenje jednog od pionira video umetnosti, omogucen na 46. Bijenalu u

Veneciji 1995. pokazao se kao izrazito zahtevno iskusenje.

Celina naslovljena Zakopane tajne potvrdila je markantan i upecatljiv status

americkog umetnika (rodjenog 1951.), cija se prefinjena izrazajnost vizuelnog i
auditivnog ostvarenja pokazala kao jedno od najzanimljivijih autorskih resenja u
kontekstu medjunarodnih razmestaja nacionalnih paviljona u venecijanskim
DJardinima. Violin nastup je za galerijsku i muzejsku heterogenost aktuelne
umetnosti Sjedinjenih americkih drzava bio okrepljujuca inovacija, potvrdjujuci
zasluzeno mesto stvaraoca ciji se intimni pomaci u vizuelnom izrazu, pogotovo u
poslednjoj deceniji, pruzaju u osecajnoj i snazno istaknutoj medijskoj ravnotezi.
Zakopane tajne su izlozba od pet video i zvucnih instalacija - svojevrsni aranzman
u usmerenom hodu kroz odaje americkog paviljona. Strukturna skrivenost znacenja
ambijentalnih celina otvorenih pred posmatracima - prolaznicima upucuje na
aluzivni tok vlastitog iskustva za svaku pojedinacnu odaju kao zasebnu predstavu i
naknadno, na efekat dozivljene i upamcene celine.

U poslednjih dvadeset pet godina ekspanzija video umetnosti i uvodjenje novog medijuma u
galerijsku praksu, nastavljenu ili proisteklu iz konceptualnih iskustava, uveo je sirok i znacajan
repertoar primera, prevashodno sa pokretnom slikom ali i koriscenjem snimaka zaustavljenih
prizora, fotografija ili drugih vidljivih zapisa sa monitora.
Odlike mnogih pribezista u rasponu metoda i razloga video umetnosti krile su aktivni autorski zivot,
ali i iza dvosmislenih zagonetki vizuelnog preobilja i aluziju na negativne posledice drustvenih i
dusevnih stanja zapadne umetnosti. No, bilo bi pogresno razmatrati video umetnost kao zasebnu,
tehnolosku ideologiju i u tom smislu definisan umetnicki zanr. Ukljuceni video monitori i
projekcije, kao i radovi van striktnog podrucja snimljene trake, uveli su nekolicinu autora radikalno
zasnovanog i silovitog opusa iz aktuelnih tokova u istoriju savremene umetnosti. Upravo su na
stogodisnjici Bijenala u Veneciji 1995, u razlicitim sektorima manifestacije, nove radove
predstavile vodece licnosti video umetnosti monografskih obima: Nam June Paik, Bruce Nauman i
svakako - Bill Viola.

Sredina u kojoj se prema posmatracu najjasnije razvija dejstvo Violinog video

aranzmana je tamna odaja ili crni hodnik. Takva svojevrsna pozadina ponovljena
je i ambijentima iza ekranskih projekcija i emisija u projektu Zakopane tajne. To
je i navelo komesara izlozbe Marilyn A. Zeitlin sa Univerzitetskog muzeja iz
Arizone da se priseti: „Prvi Violin rad koji sam iskusila bio je Soba Jovana od
Krsta, aranzman nastao 1983. Bilo je zastrasujuce prolaziti kroz potpuno
zatamnjen hodnik sve do ugla iza koga vas je cekao projektovan snimak visokih
 planinskih vrhova koji je podrhtavao. Ispred njega u zatvorenoj celiji se nalazio
sto sa malenim video monitorom sa koga se emitovao nepomicni i utisani
snimak iste planine."
Takav tip komunikativnosti i odlikuje teznju za oscilatornim ali uravnotezenim
pojavnostima koje Billa Violu uvode u provokativan status stvaroca
poststrukturalisticke meditativnosti. Njegova strategija koriscenja brzih slika
kroz najnovija ostvarenja tokom devedesetih godina korespondira sa
prednostima tehnoloskog napretka, ne potcinjavajuci se pukom sledbenistvu
tehnickih mogucnosti pokretne slike, snimljenog zvuka i pojedinosti poput
uvelicanog detalja, formata platna za video projektor ili razmestaja predmeta u
izabranom ambijentu.

Veliki broj naslovljenih radova bavi se rastvaranjem kolektivne predstave poimanja koja se
prepoznaju u intimnoj egzistencialnoj sustini vizuelnog opazanja - u telesnoj pokretljivosti, iskustvu
slikovitosti nepatvorene prirode, predstavama snimljenog plamena, dubine vode ili rentgenskog
zracenja. Atmosfera uznemirenosti i priblizavanja velike pometnje karakterisu trajanje prizora
Violinih video radova. Dimenzija proticanja je noseci pokretac psiholoskog dejstva pokretnih slika
vezanih za odredjeno vreme posmatracevog prisustva u ambijentu predstave. Stanje svesti ce se
pokazati kao noseci pokretac autorske kontrole izmedju materijalne i duhovne realnosti, iskustva
koje varira u suprotnostima, od bola do ekstaze ili u prostornom domenu od objektivom uvecanog
detalja ljudske koze do pejzaznih panoptikuma.
Impulsivni senzibilitet prema kontrastnim suprotnostima nije ponudjen u baraznom smenjivanju
kolaznih pojedinosti odredjenog vremenskog trajanja snimljenog na traci.

Iskustvo americkog eksperimentalnog filma kasnih sezdesetih godina umnogome i odredjuje

ideolosku pozadinu i formalne osnove vizuelnosti psiholoskih motiva pojedinih Violinih radova.
Filmska ostvarenja Hollisa Framptona, Michaela Snowa ili Stana Braghagea, uglavnom zasnovana
na smelim strukturama snimljenog, bila su podsticajna posebno tokom dovrsavanja studija
umetnosti na Syracuse univerzitetu u drzavi New York 1973. Uz pomno promatranje njihovih
kadrova, kao i proucavanje elektronske muzike, Viola je bio potpuno priklonjen analitickoj strani
umetnikovog odnosa prema medijima, karakteristicnim za procesualne tokove umetnosti prve
polovine sedamdesetih godina. Proces je, medjutim bio sredstvo povezivanja, ka novom nacinu
snimanja, buduci da od svog samog pocetka nije koristio tehnologiju kamere od 16 mm ili Super 8
vec se priklonio video kameri i monitoru, kako je i sam objasnio:

„Kljucna cinjenica za mene je bio proces napredovanja u elektronskom sistemu i rad sa standarnim
nacinima belezenja sto je bio odlican uvod za opstu elektronsku teoriju. To mi je pobudilo osecaj da
je i elektronski signal svojevrstan materijal sa kojim se moze raditi. Fizicko pokretanje je osnova
nasim misaonim procesima - posmatrajmo samo nacine kako beba uci. Otud mnogo ljudi ima
teskoce pristupanju elektronskom mediju. Kada te elektronske energije najzad za mene postanu
konkretne, kao sto su zvuci za kompozitora, tada pocinjem da ucim. Ubrzo posle toga sam nacinio
prelazak u video tehnologiju. Nikada nisam razmisljao o video medijumu u smislu niza slika, vec
pre kao o elektronskom procesu, o signalu."

Za Violu, podjednako je bilo vazno iskustvo ucesca u stvaranju prvog alternativnog medija centra
Synapse na Univerzitetu Syracuse. Tamo se u instaliranju elektronskog sistema dvosmerne
kablovske mreze ispitivao ideoloski naboj u radu sa niskobudzetnim televizijskim obradama. Korak
do kompjuterske obrade i montaze bio je isto tako vezan za pocetke centra, ali i rad u posebnoj
laboratoriji u New Yorku, posle povratka iz Firenze, u kojoj je snimao zvuke sluzbe ili zagora u
katedrali, ispitujuci arhitektonsko zdanje kao akusticki sistem sa razvijenim istorijiskim, verskim i
ideoloskim nasledjem.

Rad sa kolor kamerama na terenu obelezio je drugu polovinu decenije. Viola se u saradnji sa
umetnicom fotografije Kirom Perov, ubrzo i njegovom suprugom, poduhvatio izrade svojevrsnih
putopisnih vizuelnih iskustava od Afrike, Japana do Tibeta. Odmetanje u najrazlicitija podrucja
kroz receptore kamere i mikrofona rezultiralo je profilisanjem ambijentalnih, eksterijerskih
fokusiranja kakav je video rad Portret u Svetlosti i vrelini iz 1979, nacinjen u saharskoj regiji
Tunisa. Po autorovom sopstvenom priznanju, jednako kao i za dela u enterijeru, radilo se o
instiktivnom traganju za odlikama mesta i rasporeda koji ce preneti arhetipsku stranu materijalnog
sveta, izdvojenu iz iskustva kontrakulture iz koje je potekao. Vezujuci se cak i za Williama Blakea
u traganju kroz simbolicki univerzum neposrednog opazanja, Viola je prirodno proishodio u
ostvarenja koja spiritualnu stranu dovode u vezu i sa drukcijim tradicijama: studijski boravak u
Japanu pocetkom osamdesetih bio je upravo jezicko prosirenje refleksije o japanskom shvatanju
prirode i trajanju. Uz predstavljanje vlastih video radova i saradnju sa tamosnjim umetnicima,
cetvoromesecni rad sa inzenjerima u studijima Sony korporacije doprineo je dubljim mogucnostima
povezivanja razlicitih rezolucija snimka i mogucnosti svodjenja, kompresije i raznolikosti toka
jedne celine.

Video radovi, kao i ambijentalne instalacije ponudili su zdruzivanje, po njegovim recima, sustine
postojanja i nacina samospoznaje. Snimljeni materijal koji spiritualizaciju sveta i obrasce tradicije
dovodi u stanje osetljivog unutarnjeg ispitivanja je akcentovano otkrivanje mitske dimenzije
najuobicajenijih kretnji, kroz snimke usporavanja ili koreografski raspon inscenacija. Polazeci od
snimanja najintimnijih situacija kakvi su radjanje, ali i smrt u neposrednoj porodicnoj blizini, Viola
je u video radovima Prolazak (1991) i Nantski triptih (1992) pokazao neobicnu hrabrost u odlikama
privida i pretvaranje postmoderne vizuelne kulture. Odnos prema domenu filmskog iluzionistickog
aranzmana, potkrepljen razlicitim optickim rezultatima cak i unutar popularnih muzickih video-klip
fenomena poslednjih deset godina, za Violu je opravdana u smislu organizovane celine. Video
instalacija Grad coveka (1989) koja se u obliku triptiha javlja u razmeri izmedju tapiserije i
maniristickog ili baroknog evropskog iluzionizma, je po odredjenju Heinricha Klotza u knjizi
Umetnost u XX veku iz 1994, u odnosu prema tradicionalnom - prva monumentalna slika
elektronskih medija. Sa druge strane, raspon suprotnih stanja koji nastanjuje celinu kakva je film
dvojake mogucnosti prevoda - Pustinje napustenosti (1994) pruza ritualno ogoljen lanac prizora na
muziku Edgarda Varesea, sugerisuci gotovo beketovsko osecanje prostora u jezi, pred tajanstvenom
vizuelnom vibrantnoscu.

Zato i ne cudi da se prethodna celina Zakopane tajne pokazuje u smislu ostvarene pomerene
granice. Sastavljena iz deonica Hodnik Sprata, Interval, Prisustvo, Velovi, i Docek, ona stvara
opazajni tok balansiranja vizuelnih i audio priredbi. Kako je, po priredjivacu izlozbe prvi segment
predstavljanja "uzaludnost komunikacije" na kome deset monitora pokazuju razlicita frontalna lica
vezanih usta u nerazaznatljivim pokusajima izgovaranja, tako se kulminacija odvija upravo u cinu
otkrovenja poslednje deonice, prizivajuci iluzionisticku prirodu renesansnog nasledja - susreta
Marije i Jelisavete ili scene Sacra Conversacione.

Priblizujuci se bezmalo filmskoj dramatizaciji u instalaciji Zakopane tajne, Viola podseca na

aktivno vezivanje medijuma sa zivotom, dragocenim kako za aktuelnu umetnost sredine
devedesetih godina, tako i za otvoren put umetnickog senzibiliteta. Kroz ostvaren opit u rasponu od
shematicnosti prizora do iluzionisticke monumentalizacije njegov opus je sigurna i kvaltetna gradja
i ujedno konceptualno besprekorno i odgovorno svedocanstvo postojanja.

U njegovim ranijim video radovima, rad je ispitivao stanje svesti, cesto prnesen iz slika
svakidasnjeg sveta.Viola je pazljivo birao i montirao slike

Bill Viola · Tuesday April 25, 2006

Video artist Bill Viola uses an interesting fusion between philosophy, old-school art and modern
technology. Some of his work uses extreme slow motion presented on huge plasma panels,
collapsing the boundaries between photography and film. I attended two exhibitions in London
about three years ago, and had this to say:

1) Tate Modern

There’s a steady stream of Viola’s work in London galleries. A few years ago I saw his ageing
triptych at the Tate – the one showing a baby on the left, a dying man on the right, and someone
else in the middle. Five Angels For The New Millennium is an installation comprising 5 large
projection screens in a darkened room. I read the introductory text about his interest in metaphysical
and spiritual themes, and the fact that he nearly drowned when younger – also a theme in his work.

Five Angels For The New Millennium consists of 5 different versions of the same concept: a man
emerging from primeval waters, in reality reverse-frame entries with hyper slow motion waters.
Viola wants you to have an immersive experience and the sound is particularly powerful, probably
the first impression you have if your room entry coincides with one of the 5 climaxes, the emerging
bodies accompanied with a resounding crash – a digitally edited version of the watery impact when
you jump or dive into water. These climaxes occur apparently at random after a sonic and visual
build-up: low level background sounds mostly but not entirely with a bass frequency, and
undulating, rippling or sparkling waters. Each time a climax is about to occur you can hear it above
the other displays and the audience orients itself accordingly.

There’s no doubt a darkened room, large digital projections and an immersive soundscape has
considerable impact, more than a mere sculpture or photo. But more importantly, Viola is
employing powerful thematic imagery which resonates with religious systems. Five Angels For The
New Millennium represents a spontaneous emergence from the element water – frequently
employed in religious imagery at a metaphysical level (Hinduism) or a ritual level (Christianity).
This is Viola’s ‘message’, and his real talent is how he works with these images and themes,
abstracts and transforms them, so they float free from all conceptual and institutional associations.
At best, Viola’s work can resonate with the unconscious, through intermediary symbolism which
we inevitably absorb from our cultural conditioning. One person next to me said “Bloody hell. I
enjoyed that!” His companion replied “It was great”. I suspect neither of them could have
articulated or conceptualised it in spiritual terms, but it is in the nature of this work that it has
impact, regardless of prior experience or knowledge. In that respect, Viola is an intermediary
between ordinary urban experience – what galleries more usually consist of, however culturally
sophisticated it may be – and more sacred concerns. These stills show the figure raising and
lowering in the waters:
2) National Gallery

On the Late Review TV show, a panellists compared Viola’s art work The Passions to a
presentation for Gap clothing, saying the buttoned-down collars “didn’t work” for him. All of them
were mildly disparaging, less than enthusiastic. In the Sunday Times, critic Waldemar Januszczak
insisted on comparing it to the work of the old masters, saying “We’d come to watch Botticelli, not
the telly”. The Passions is, admittedly, visually based on historically famous paintings. But this is
more incidental than Januszczak suggests, it is not a case of old masters vs. modern video, and the
Gap criticism was ridiculous. I find it interesting that critics praise and eulogise the silliness
presented annually at the Turner Prize, bought by Charles Saatchi and presented in London galleries
– but cannot understand or respond favourably to the work of Bill Viola. The latter is immeasurably
more mature than trendy YBA nonsense, more profound, compelling and meaningful. Viola
believes that art can be a transformative experience, and his work is thus elevated into an entirely
different league from the unmade beds, dead animals, crumpled paper etc of supposed artistic value.
This is a relevant comparison because Viola and the YBAs are equally contemporary, exhibited at
A List galleries around the world, and with international reputations. Finding an unmade bed or an
on/off light switch an interesting experience compared to Viola’s work is a little odd – but not when
you consider the following. Transformative art, based on metaphysical concepts, has always been of
marginal interest. You either ‘get it’, or you don’t, and most people don’t. Watching the Late
Review panel I felt they were half asleep, hypnotised by cultural conditioning and oh-so
sophisticated learning.

There is an initial difficulty in video art whereby we have to accept it as different from cinema,
video or, indeed, the “telly”. But if all you do is react against Viola in terms of prior familiarity with
the electronic screen, then you really have to look a little deeper. Why is it apparently easy to do
this when it concerns an unmade bed (for fuck sake), but difficult when it concerns themes of life,
death and transformation? It says something about the kind of society in which we live, and the
values on which it is based.

One of the distinguishing themes of Viola’s work is his interest in time, and his use of hyper slow
motion to create something that is neither film nor photography. Film editing (he says) is an
unconscious language, a way of structuring time and space, which is largely unnoticed. Shot
reverse-shot enables us to make sense of a conversation between two people, i.e. establish a
narrative context. Meditation (something Viola has experienced) alters your perceptual experience
of time, and in this respect Viola’s work is meditative – not a unique quality in the world of art, but
unique in the way he does it. The first exhibit at The Passions is a huge screen showing a meeting
between three women, based on Carrucci’s The Visitation. As with his Five Angels For The New
Millennium, it is 1) hyper slow motion, 2) accompanied by a necessary soundscape and 3) has a
compelling climax. The third woman appears about halfway through the cycle, greets the others,
and this is depicted with a sonic roar and slow motion emotion. It’s an arresting and beautiful
moment, highlighting the overall theme for the exhibition.
In the next adjoining room the National Gallery has placed some of the art work that has influenced
Viola concerning the ideas of life, death, and an existential mourning based on human separation.
We are all ultimately alone, for most of the time we do not think about it or are even aware of it, but
it becomes painfully obvious at moments of grief and mourning. The loved person dies (when Viola
lost his parents) which is itself traumatic, and you additionally realise that eventually the same fate
will befall you. Viola interprets these concerns in terms of Christian narrative as with the Christ
figure in Bosch’s Christ Mocked who, he says, looks out of the picture thus beyond time and space,
and directly into your heart. As Buddha said: to be born is to suffer, because everything is
impermanent. Video is arguably well suited for this kind of theme because it is itself transitory.
When the gallery is empty at 11 pm, we know the paintings are still there hanging on the walls. The
videos, however, have been switched off and are no longer visible. Video relies on memory, not
only at the level of moving optical impression, but beyond that to the very epistemology of the
medium. The old painters tried to capture and thus immortalise themes and imagery from
mythology, Christianity etc and thus make time stand still. Which can’t be done. When photography
was invented the ambivalent nature of reproduction and representation became integral to the
meaning of the snapshot: a frozen moment of time which no longer exists, thus paradoxical. Film
theorist Gilles Deleuze defined what he called the moving image and the time image in movies (in
his books Cinema 1 and Cinema 2), arguing that film is itself a philosophy and historically, its
artistic power was not immediately realised. Although it is sometimes difficult (and not necessarily
rewarding) to understand what Deleuze means, I suggest that Viola’s work sometimes fits the
category of the time image.

Viola says he is not interested in merely re-interpreting existing work, and he briefly alludes to this
during the 15 minute documentary which is part of the National Gallery show. With one painting,
he says, he drew some sketches of it and then put them away; you have to allow unconscious
process to reformulate the ideas and the imagery. His videos are (sometimes) clearly based on old
masters paintings, but his work is more than simple remediation. The imagery is un-tethered from
the religious systems from which it derives, and thus has an abstract power which bypasses critical
perception. As I watched other people I could see the tremendous impact the videos had, and could
also see (and sometimes hear) that the audience had no or very little conceptual framework in which
to locate it. I watched someone survey the books Viola says have influenced him, in the retail area,
and they were clearly very novel for her. I had bought, read or at least heard of almost all the titles
concerning Zen, Christian mysticism etc. But this is the important and remarkable point: my
appreciation of The Passions was not therefore superior to hers or that of any other person; it has an
archetypal impact which reaches into the unconscious, regardless of what learning you have or
don’t have. This is what Viola means when he says he wants his art to ‘transform’ and it is what
makes it profoundly meaningful. I can read a Sufi story and it will make sense because I am used to
that kind of literature; for most people it won’t have that effect for the simple reason that they have
not been exposed to it in a culture which is based on material values. Viola’s work is thus an
important cultural project: it has a purpose, and it achieves this by a non-didactic i.e. ‘artistic’
method. Not many people read Sufi stories or Buddhist sutras, but thousands of people look at Bill
Viola’s videos and sense the meaning therein, even if they cannot articulate or conceptualise what it
is.

Theorist Paul Virilio argued that technology magnifies our perception. Thus, the lens can reach out
into space or down into microscopic depths and show us things we cannot normally see. For Viola
(and myself), the photographic and video lens implies philosophical process; as with the Deleuze
belief in film philosophy, video is a philosophical form. Or rather it can be, since clearly for much
of the time it isn’t. Many of the exhibits magnify passion, making it available for meditative or
critical reflection, framed within a First Noble Truth ontology; Viola has stated many times how
much the death of his parents affected him. Some of the exhibits at The Passions are a simple
representation of passion i.e. feeling, depicting actors in hyper slow motion grief, joy, anger etc.
One of the Late Review panellists referred to the factor of body language, and without sound – as in
many of the works – this is clearly how ‘meaning’ is achieved. Viola creates a perceptual realm
whereby time is immeasurably slowed, so you can observe in great detail the facial mannerisms that
express and reveal different emotions: the photographic aesthetic. I find these works less interesting
than the more metaphysical videos; you are more aware that ultimately, you are watching actors
perform in front of a camera. However they do encourage you to slow down i.e. adopt a more
observant form of perception capable of noticing otherwise unrecognised detail. I found it
remarkable that in the heart of London, in an interior section of the National Gallery, a large crowd
of people were walking around an art exhibition in almost total silence. There were no signs saying
Please Be Quiet, no rules requiring you to whisper, if at all, only when necessary. And yet that’s
what happened, as a testimony to Viola’s work. I noticed my breathing slowed, something I’m
familiar with from practices like meditation and Tai Chi. It’s a significant experience, which I’m
sure was shared by my quiet fellow audience.

On a little placard, Viola had written that he is interested in what he calls the interior eye, whereby
you see yourself in multifarious narrative situations. In that respect, for the viewer of his work you
find yourself seeing yourself, i.e. aspects of the human condition in visual/video form, amenable to
observation. As I watched the exhibit called Observance, my mind was initially fairly blank; I had
no preconceptions and merely watched the small procession of observers. After several minutes I
suddenly realised what was happening, and it was an upsetting shock that nearly made me cry. If I’d
been alone, I probably would have done so. There it was, unfolding in front of my eyes on a plasma
screen – the first Noble Truth that to be born is to suffer, the trauma when I lost my father and the
ensuing processional rituals, and the fact of my own certain death: those people were looking at me
with the inevitable mixture of grief, shock, horror, powerlessness and incredulity. Only once before
have I ever had that kind of art experience, with a student ‘installation’ (in reality just a theatrical
set) consisting of a dark-draped enclosure with some sombre flowers: it was a mourning room that
suddenly triggered years-old grief. It was undeniably affecting, but I was not grateful for the
experience because it lacked any redeeming or philosophical context, and sought merely to depict.
Observance was equally affecting, but mediated in a profoundly philosophical context. I looked
around and noticed a mid-50s woman undergoing, I think, a similar experience to myself. I reflected
that it would not resonate so much with younger people who have not yet been bereaved, and
noticed there were indeed some younger folk smiling and enjoying themselves, clearly unaware of
the traumas of grief. Bill Viola: art for grown ups.

Unlike the Five Angels For The New Millennium exhibit, only some of The Passions is housed in
darkened rooms. It’s a significant factor, its simplicity creating both ‘atmosphere’ and womb-like
retreat from the busy world. The centre piece – the largest exhibit – is the video Viola calls The
Crossing, which depicts the simple action of a man running up towards the camera and being
immersed in water (The Crossing 1) and then flame (The Crossing 2: the reverse side of the first
screen, i.e. two different projections). Again it is hyper-slow motion, giving you an extraordinarily
beautiful display of falling water.
This is not innovative or unique – it’s been done before in cinematography and photographic stills –
but the piece of work as a whole is unique, according to my experience at least. I know from
meditation that there’s a sense in which you ‘disappear’, i.e. dissolve into a bigger, greater, more
radiant and transcendent ‘identity’. In one respect this is ‘death’; in another respect the most
beautiful and transformative possibility within life. Small moments – they don’t necessarily occupy
large amounts of clock time – where you transcend the pains of existence because you, there, cannot
die; large moments, which are not moments at all because you rest, like a recumbent Buddha,
beyond temporal fluctuation. Not experiences then, because experience comes and goes and
therefore has limits, but meaning-of-life realisations. During one meditation period my body slowed
so profoundly I was barely breathing; I realised the yogic burial alive practices are the wrong way
round: they train the organism to withstand near suffocation as a means of bodily mastery whereas
with spiritual transcendence such things happen as automatic side effects, and are not important. As
I sat watching the watery Crossing in the darkened room tears filled my eyes because I have never
seen such an accurate and beautiful evocation of ‘dissolving’ in meditation. The man runs up, he is
covered first with a few drops and then a downpour of water, and he disappears.

There are further factors relevant to Viola’s work but the former are, for me, ultimately the most
important. He frequently uses multiple displays, based on the triptych or multi-panel aesthetic. In
the documentary film at the exhibiton he compares a multi-scene painting to a storyboard; in the
centre of the latter there is one figure who represents timeless i.e. transcendent apprehension; the
surrounding scenes are the narrative episodes of life. A two, three, four or five screen presentation
has a different psychological effect to one screen, probably triggering a different and more holistic
kind of brain-hemisphere response. If you have a divided narrative attention you have to assemble it
yourself into a greater whole, instilling a panoramic or metaphysical contemplation of life. Not all
of the exhibits at The Passions are large scale and dramatic; I enjoyed Catherine’s Room which
consists of 5 quite small screens showing the same person engaging in different activities in a
monk-like room. It operates at different levels: different stages of the same life, the passing of the
seasons, and the multiple interests and activities which fill one person’s life. In India, they believe
life has 4 different stages: innocence, youth and learning, the householder (married), and then
spiritual enquiry. In art, Indian theory categorises work into 8 moods or rasas, which are 8 in
number: Shringara (the erotic), hasya (the comic), Karuna (the pathetic), Raudra (the furious), Vira
(the heroic), Bhayanaka (the terrible), Adbhuta (the marvelous) and Shanta (the quiescent).
Catherine depicts different moods in 5 different narratives, in the same room.
Although Viola’s work is contemplative, it is simulatanously ‘active’ because of the nature of
video. A painting is passive, because it has no movement. I was tired after my trip to London and
when I pulled my new Viola books out of my bag, I was disinclined to open them. I’d had enough,
and needed to rest. I wouldn’t feel the same way about a book of paintings, or looking at a painting:
they require nothing from me, i.e. I can invest them with psychological energy or not, according to
my interest and mood. It’s more difficult to ‘switch off’ a video when it’s in front of your eyes; it
has a different aesthetic to painting, even when the video is painterly.

Video is a transcendent artistic form, in the sense that it’s completely fluid. Especially with the
digital version, you have complete freedom to use sound, imagery, film, photography or fine art
references – anything you wish to incorporate. After some experience with digital culture I became
irritated with computer based art which is justified with reference to simulation theory, Baudrillard
especially, and ideas about transcending the corporeal limitations of gender and identity. I’m
relieved that in the realm of digital culture, Viola’s work provides me with reference points I can
use to refute the silliness, and highlight the insight. In the 15 minute documentary, Viola refers to
Bout’s Annunciation, and how it is not a literal representation of an angel telling Mary that she is
pregnant with Jesus; it represents the pre-verbal, pre-cognitive perception whereby a woman knows
she is pregnant before it has been scientifically or biologically ascertained. There are non-
intellectual forms of perception, non-material levels of human experience. At its best, Viola’s work
operates at that pre-conscious level.

Artists undertake a personal journey which has been romanticised, glamorised and in recent years,
marketed in self-developmental manuals like The Artists’ Way. I don’t believe that someone who
produces an empty bed, a light switch or dead shark is embarked on a journey I can respect. They
are not investigating themselves or life in any meaningful way that I recognise, and for that reason I
find their work vacuous nonsense. Viola is in a different league, and is someone I can respect.

Bill Viola
Bill Viola was born in New York in 1951. He graduated at the College of Visual and
Performing Arts, Syracuse University, New York, where he was awarded a further
Honorary Doctorate in 1995. He has been the recipient of numerous awards and
honours. In 1998 Viola was Getty Scholar-in-Residence at the Getty Research Institute
for the History of Art and Humanities, Los Angeles. In 2000 he was elected to the
prestigious American Academy of Arts and Sciences. Based in Los Angeles with his
wife Kira Perov (his creative collaborator and the manager of his studio), he is today
regarded as one of the leading artists working in the field of video.

A practising artist since 1973, Viola has used video to explore universal human
experiences such as birth, death, self-knowledge, the senses and consciousness.
During the 1970s, living in Florence, he was technical director in one of the first video
art studios in Europe and later travelled widely, drawn by a deepening curiosity about
spiritual practices. He settled in Japan to study Buddhism and became artist-in-
residence at the Sony Corporation's headquarters.

His work consequently has its roots both in Eastern and Western art as well as spiritual
traditions that include Zen Buddhism, Islamic Sufism and Christian mysticism. Viola's
artworks employ state-of-the-art technologies and are distinguished by the precision
and simplicity of their presentation. Alongside his contemporaries like Nam June Paik,
Bruce Nauman and William Wegman, commencing his career during a period when
video as a medium was just developing, he has been instrumental in its establishment
as a legitimate artform. In so doing Viola has also helped to expand its reach in terms of
content, technology and historical relevance.

Throughout his career Viola has also broadened the scope of his work in collaboration
with artists from other fields, including musicians and filmmakers. He has exhibited
extensively worldwide, representing the USA at the 1995 Venice Biennale. In 1998 an
acclaimed twenty-five year survey of his work at New York's Whitney Museum travelled
for two years to six museums in the USA and Europe. His large-scale video
installations, notably 'The Messenger' (1996), 'Five Angels for the Millennium' (2001)
and 'Going Forth by Day' (2001) are upheld as icons of the video medium. His work is
represented in several major public collections worldwide and, in the UK, in the
collections of the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art and the Tate.

The Passions
'Observance' is one of a series of artworks collectively called 'The Passions', amongst
which it is regarded as the most significant, alongside the larger-scale 'Emergence'.
'The Passions' is a series of video works begun in 2000. Shown in silence and extreme
slow motion, the videos explore the power, range and expressions of human emotion.
They have developed out of Viola's interest in the devotional painting of the Middle
Ages and Renaissance.

To date there are some twenty works in the series. Like 'Observance', most of them are
shot on 35mm film at very high speed and in continuous sequence. Viola employs none
of the editing or shifts of viewpoint of conventional film-making. The footage is then
drastically slowed, transferred to digital video and played on flat screens. This is crucial
since it enables the minutest, subtle shifts in expression to be observed. The resulting
quality is sharp and photographic rather than electronic.

'The Passions' series was first exhibited at the Getty Institute, Los Angeles, prior to its
2003 showing at London’s National Gallery. A departure from his earlier room
installations with large projections and sound, the works in 'The Passions' series are
silent and intimate. They are played mainly on small plasma screens in homage to the
portable icons and devotional works by which they are inspired.
'Observance' and 'The Passions' are the culmination of a very particular artistic and
spiritual journey for Viola. In the late 1980s his work came under the influence of his
growing interest in the art of the past. He was particularly fascinated by the 'multiple
screen’ images of medieval artworks such as altarpieces, and by the emotional
extremes portrayed in the faces of their subjects. The capacity of these paintings to
provoke powerful emotions in their contemporary viewers was something that
captivated him. Viola’s 'Nantes Triptych' (1992), combining painful images of death and
childbirth, was made during the year in which his mother died and his son was born. It
was a starting point for his exploration of emotional pain, and of his personal conflicts of
sorrow and joy.

Progressing from this, Viola aspired to show people in the throes of emotion. His
intentions were profound. He wanted the viewer to linger on his images, and to
contemplate what he describes as 'Sorrow with a capital S'. He sought to create a more
direct empathy between the audience and his subjects. To pursue this he revived his
earlier study of the old masters and introduced actors as a medium to deliver his
themes. His aim was not to restage the paintings that interested him but to 'get inside
these pictures...to embody them, to inhabit them, to feel them breathe.' 'The Greeting'
(1995), modelled on Pontormo's 'The Visitation', was his first work to employ the
methods of traditional filmmaking, including actors and scenic designers. This was an
approach he would return to five years later in 'The Passions', and which is at the fore in
'Observance'.

Viola's strong belief is that art has a function beyond the aesthetic. It is this fundamental
purpose that he seeks to reclaim in his re-workings of historic, devotional masterpieces.
He began work on 'The Passions' when his own father was dying five years ago: in a
Chicago gallery he saw Dieric Bouts' weeping Madonna, 'Mater Dolorosa'. The painting
moved him to tears – a surprising reaction to a piece of 15th century Dutch devotional
art. He describes his response:

"For the first time in my life I realised I was using a piece of art rather than just appreciating it. Maybe it should
have been in a church - where people share silent communion - but it happened in an art gallery. That is not
what I was taught in art school...I was looking at paintings of the crucifixion and watching my father slowly
slide."

In 1998, with several other scholars, Viola took part in a year of studies at the Getty
devoted to the representation of 'The Passions'. The participants examined how artists
in the past dealt with the challenge of arousing and depicting emotional extremes
through their work. They also considered how contemporary artists could learn from
this. Viola’s own research ranged from texts on Buddhism to the often dramatic
visionary experiences shown in Spanish painting.

Increasingly drawn to the Getty's collections, his investigations into specific facial
expressions, tears and extreme emotional states make frequent appearances in his
notebooks of that time. Whilst there, he was commissioned by the National Gallery,
London, to make a piece for its 'Encounters' exhibition. This came to fruition in 2000
with 'The Quintet of the Astonished', inspired by Hieronymous Bosch's 'Christ Mocked',
in which Viola directed five actors to show specific emotions - sorrow, pain, anger, fear
and rapture - with increasing degrees of intensity. Through further works he explored
beyond simple facial expressions. The actors' faces and bodies were used to describe
extremes of individual anguish and suffering, employing references to traditional
classical and Renaissance poses.
Observance
'Observance' is part of the third series of 'The Passions', made for the exhibition in Los
Angeles, London and Munich. This series is perhaps more complex than the previous
two yet uses the story-less, ultra-slow movement of the earlier 'Passions' suites.
'Observance' is based upon Albrecht Dürer's pair of altar wings, 'Four Apostles', 1526
(Bayerische Staatsgemäldesammlungen, Alte Pinakothek, Munich.) The painting is a
spiritual evocation of shared grief. In a more literal interpretation, Viola first imagined
'Observance' as two upright screens in which his actors would 'shimmer', that is, move
towards the camera showing an intensity of expression, sometimes overlapping, their
heads coming in and out of view. Eighteen performers spanning all ages and types
were drawn from several days' auditions at which Viola read a poem by Rumi, a Sufi
mystic:

The human shape is a ghost made of distraction and pain,

Sometimes pure light, sometimes cruel,
Trying wildly to open,
This image held tightly within itself.

Having arranged the actors in a narrow row he asked them to step forward to look at,
'something they'd rather not see...to say goodbye to someone who'd left them.' This
procession of grief persuaded Viola to abandon the two-screen format. He created
instead a single screen with a composition of even greater depth. In the compressed
view of a long lens, narrowly confined by the boundaries of the screen, this presented a
richer picture of continuous movement and change. Across eight takes, each of one
hundred seconds, Viola encouraged the actors to stay within the frame.

Whilst the relationships between certain of the performers were directed by Viola, the
spiritual level to which their relationships reach transcends his formal structure. Their
unique, individual evocations of grief take on an undirected response to one another. As
each person moves to the front they pause, overcome with emotion. They look
downwards, out of the frame. Sometimes a figure glances out at the viewer, as if to
seek a shared response, others are more solitary. Some touch or exchange glances,
offering physical or emotional support. There is no jostling, but they appear to be driven
by an urgent desire to be at the front. That the figures are trapped in this cycle of grief
serves to make the experience all the more heart-rending.

'Observance' is unique amongst Viola’s works for having a 'subject' for which the
performers grieve, though we are not permitted to see what it is. It is, however, overtly
clear that death and loss are the unseen cause. The orderly crowd, and the shared
nature of their mourning, create a solemn public event that in the context of
contemporary world events is lent added poignancy. Commentators on Viola's work
have written of ‘our underdeveloped culture of mourning’ and our need for ‘a grief that
makes us more human’.

The altarpiece-like scale of 'Observance' sets it somewhere between his large-scale

projected installations and the much smaller, devotional works of the earlier 'Passions'.
It has a visual language that exemplifies the artist's work. The performers’ expressions
and gestures change so gradually that we observe nuances that would barely be
noticed in real time or real life. The clothes worn by the actors are overtly contemporary.
The saturated tints of their clothing honour Dürer’s radiant colour scheme and the
Apostles’ traditional garments.
The flowing rhythms created by the ultra-slow movement and recessional composition
of the queue embody the sense of the uncontrollable emotional wave that Viola holds
as characterising the human condition. He has endeavoured to examine and portray
this through 'The Passions':

'It is about people being overwhelmed by forces that are greater than them.'
'I became fascinated by the passage of an emotional wave through a person, watching what the Greeks called
the numa, the breath of the life force as it courses through us and all things.'
'Our bodies are poised at a unique point between the physical and the metaphysical, between the spiritual and
the material. That peak point before something explodes is what I'm most interested in.'

Witness
‘Witness’ takes the form of a triptych, a three-panelled picture. It resulted from Viola’s
earlier, unsuccessful attempt tocreate a response to ‘Christ as Salvator Mundi’, a
painting by the 15th century artist Dieric Bouts. He aimed to recreate the intensity of
Bouts’ Christ, who fixes his attention directly on the viewer. Viola asked a solo actor to
focus with increasing strength on a single emotion, then to release it.

Dissatisfied with the outcome, Viola repeated the process with three women. They too
were directed to look at the camera in an unbroken gaze. Like the actors in ‘Mater’,
however, Viola asked them to move through the four powerful states of joy, sorrow,
anger and fear. They achieve this without making the slightest unnecessary movement.
The result combines an emotional force with vulnerability.

Mater
Age and the four emotional extremes of joy, sorrow, anger and fear are the focus for
‘Mater’, Two women – one old, one young – respond to and express these emotions.
Their reactions, enhanced by the slow-motion playback, are inevitably coloured by their
differing life experiences.

The women’s portraits are physically separated by the use of a diptych frame (diptychs
are paintings that consist of two parts, commonly hinged together like the pages of a
book). Only once do they acknowledge each other’s presence. The word ‘Mater’ is the
Latin for ‘mother’. Indeed, the intimate scale and the dual frame perhaps suggest a
family portrait.

‘The Ages of Man’ was a popular subject for contemplation in Medieval and
Renaissance art. Viola had previously explored the themes of childhood, youth, maturity
and old age. ‘Mater’ represents his continuing artistic and spiritual interest in the various
stages of human life.
Walker Art Gallery
December 18, 2004 - April 17, 2005

Admission Free

The American artist Bill Viola was born in 1951. He is a pioneer and leader in the field
of video art, perhaps best known for his large-scale projected room installations. More
recently he has made more intimate small-screen artworks, including those shown here.
Viola has greatly expanded the potential of his chosen medium, bringing it to wider
public attention.

This exhibition celebrates the purchase by Walker Art Gallery of Viola’s major work,
‘Observance’. Two additional pieces, ‘Mater’ and ‘Witness’, loaned from private
collections, are included to complement ‘Observance’.

In 1998 Viola was one of several scholars invited to the Getty Research Institute in
California to study ‘The Representation of the Passions.’ The participants examined
how artists in the past dealt with the challenge of arousing and depicting extremes of
emotion through their work. They also considered how contemporary artists could learn
from this. As a result, Viola created a series of new videos, collectively called 'The
Passions'. In these, inspired by historical religious paintings, he explores the intensity of
the human spirit. His method is to use extreme slow motion concentrated on the faces
and body movements of his performers. The three works to be shown are part of 'The
Passions'.

Exhibition Links
Bookstore Home Details

Bill Viola: The Passions

Human emotions are the subject of Edited by John Walsh

The Passions, a series of twenty video
works made by the contemporary J. Paul Getty Museum
artist Bill Viola (b. 1951) during the 298 pages, 10 1/4 x 10 1/4 inches
past two years. Since the mid-1970s,
Viola's video installations have dealt 250 color and 30 b/w illustrations
with themes of perception, memory, ISBN 978-0-89236-713-9
and self-knowledge. In these new hardcover, Out of Print 2003
works he has grappled with one of the
oldest problems in art: how to convey
the power and complexity of emotion
by depicting the facial expressions and
body language of models—or in
Viola's case, of performers.

Bill Viola: The Passions explores the

genesis and meaning of this
extraordinary suite of works. The book
is published in conjunction with an
exhibition—which will unveil
Emergence, a new work in the
Passions series commissioned by the
Getty—on view at the Getty Museum
from January 24 to April 27, 2003,
and at the National Gallery, London,
from October 22, 2003 to January 4,
2004. In an opening essay, John Walsh
traces Viola's career and examines the
intellectual and psychological
concerns that have preoccupied Viola
over the years. Walsh then offers a
first-person account of Viola's filming
of Emergence. A conversation
between Viola and Hans Belting
reveals Viola's current interests and
the role that older works of art have
played in his development. Peter
Sellars meditates upon the spiritual
foundation of Viola's work. In
addition, Viola presents both images
and texts that served as sources for
many of the Passions works. Finally,
Kira Perov contributes her own
documentary photographs and
compiles richly illustrated frame
sequences from each of the twenty
Passions pieces, accompanied by
descriptions by Viola.

John Walsh is director emeritus of the

Getty Museum and curator of the
exhibition. Hans Belting is professor
of art history and media theory at the
School for New Media in Karlsruhe,
Germany. Peter Sellars is a theater,
opera, and television director, and
professor in the World Arts and
Cultures Department at the University
of California, Los Angeles. Kira Perov
is an arts administrator, editor, and
widely-published photographer. She
has worked closely with Bill Viola,
her partner and husband, since 1978.

This title is out of print. Please look

for it at your local libraries and/or
used bookstores.