Odds & Ends

Saturday, February 28, 2009

Exhibition Review: Star Wars - Where Science Meets Imagination
Film fans might not feel that much reluctance to admit to being Star Wars fans any more, but museums obviously still feel a cultural cringe. So, for example, when an exhibition of models, props and costumes from Star Wars tours, there has to be some kind of legitimising excuse. A decade ago there was an exhibition (which I saw at the Smithsonian Institute in Washington D.C.) which was based on the links between Star Wars and myth; it was marked by the companion book Star Wars: The Magic of Myth. You know the drill: Star Wars is the latest line in a long list of myths that tell universal blah blah blah blah. The latest exhibition touring the world, currently at the Powerhouse Museum in Sydney, is Star Wars: Where Science Meets Imagination. This time the focus is on the links between Star Wars and real-world science. But again, it's just a pretense. The exhibition, if we're honest, is really just about exhibiting really cool models.

Millenium Falcon, Front


My recollection is that at the Smithsonian exhibition, they put a very large Star Destroyer model at the very start to kick things off with a bang; the Powerhouse exhibition does the same by using a giant Millennium Falcon to welcome you in. It gets things off to a great start. Other highlights include an X-Wing that is very nearly as impressive as the Falcon; a Star Destroyer (though a smaller model than I saw at the last exhibition); the Rebel Blockade Runner (the first ship you see in the series); an AT-AT; and some iconic costumes including Darth Vader's suit (although I was amused to note the mock-up they'd set up had him wearing very shabby unpolished shoes; the Dark Lord's grooming seems to have gone into decline). There are some models and props from the prequels, but a combination of public demand and the increased use of computer-generated imagery for the newer films ensures the balance is tipped well towards the original trilogy. It's all good stuff - and as good as a book like Lorne Peterson's Sculpting a Galaxy is, there's just no substitute for seeing these models in person.

X-Wing


They shouldn't need to apologise for showing these models, and indeed, contriving an excuse to do so actually detracts from discussion of the legitimate reasons they are of interest. The original Star Wars films are classics of film design, and these models deserve legitimate study for that reason. Even those who criticise the films on other grounds should, if they're honest, acknowledge the brilliance of the designs Lucas conceived with collaborators such as Ralph MacQuarrie, Colin Cantwell and Joe Johnston. Not only are these designs iconic, they are extraordinarily communicative. They impart ideas for storytelling purposes (the Star Destroyer looks threatening and evil, for example), but they are also full of subtle cues about how the ships and objects we see work, which helps to ground the fantasy world in reality. Lucas' designers approached the task as industrial designers would, meaning the objects look unusually real for a science fiction film, and saving Lucas from needless exposition. (He never needs to tell us, for example, that an X-Wing is a newer, zippier and better ship than the Y-Wing: the designs do it for him). I'd like to see an exhibition that more fully explored these ships as designed objects: looking for example, at the influence of World War II and postwar fighter design on the look of the X-Wing, or naval design on the Star Destroyer. At the same time, such an exhibition could more fully explore the creative process of designing the ships (for example, the way the Blockade Runner design was planned to be used as the Millennium Falcon, before a late change of plans).

Star Destroyer

There are gestures in this direction in the exhibition, and the "science" angle gives a better opportunity to touch on these than the "myth" angle did. But I suspect the science stuff in the exhibition will be more of interest to children. There are hands-on exhibits about maglev trains, robots, and hovercraft (including a full-size mockup that can be ridden). These are tied into Star Wars with varying degrees of half-heartedness, but kids will love them. One of the funniest things about watching the exhibition, in fact, was hearing the adult Star Wars fans chide their less-informed children. I heard one kid point at a costume and ask if it was for "a goodie or a baddie." The response was an indignant: "That's a stormtrooper! Of course he's a baddie!" Such is the state of Star Wars fandom.

The exhibition is running at the Powerhouse until 26 April 2009. You can click on any of these photos to go through to flickr, where you can see more of my photos from the exhibition.

AT-AT

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Thursday, January 15, 2009

Exhibition Review: Setting the Scene at ACMI
I went along to the Setting the Scene: Film Design from Metropolis to Australia exhibition at ACMI with high hopes and keen interest. The exhibition covers production design in cinema, including the use of sets, locations, and virtual environments. It's a fantastic and under-explored topic, and one in which I have a lot of interest. As an urban planner, the use of locations and the depiction of our spatial environment interests me a lot (I've touched on it in pieces for this site such as this and my writing on Blade Runner), and the postgraduate research I'm currently doing is focused on these sorts of ideas.

The good aspects of the exhibition flow directly from the inherent strength of the subject matter, and some interesting exhibits. There are things here that film buffs will get a real kick out seeing, such as original design drawings for the modernist house from Tati's Mon Oncle (as well as a large model of the house); recreated sets from Australia; and - although these have basically nothing to do with the topic of the exhibition - models of vehicles and machines from Speed Racer and the Matrix sequels. The exhibition's origins as an exhibit by the Deutsche Kinemathek in Berlin is in evidence in the strong focus on European examples: that's fine, although the fusion between those parts of the exhibition and the material added by ACMI occasionally feels a little awkward. If all you are interested in is seeing some interesting behind-the-scenes material, some good production stills, and a brief gloss over the topic, you might find the exhibition worthwhile.



Unfortunately, these basic merits were overshadowed for me by many disappointing aspects of the exhibition, mostly to do with the way it is presented. ACMI has been around for a few years now, and they should be well and truly across the intricacies of running this kind of heavily media-based exhibition. Unfortunately, the exhibition is pretty much a catalogue of fundamental mistakes: I am quite serious in saying that it would reward close study by those interested in museum curatorship as an example of what not to do.

The first thing that struck me on entering the hall is that it was very dark. No doubt this was partly for mood and partly to facilitate the display of the many videos positioned through the exhibit. Yet the light levels struck me as far too low, and the spot-lighting for individual exhibits was at times poorly thought out. In some cases, for example, wall-mounted pictures were lit by spot-lights from behind the viewing position, so that when you tried to view them you cast a shadow across the exhibit: given the low ambient light level, this made some exhibits very hard to view.

The light level also exacerbated the difficulty of working your way through the exhibition. The exhibition was broken into themes which presented a promising set of subject headings: Spaces of Power, Private Spaces, Labyrinth Spaces, Transit Spaces, Stage Spaces, Virtual Spaces, and Location Spaces. There is, to some extent, a logical order for these exhibits to be viewed, and the exhibits are numbered on the exhibition's flyer in an order that builds in an approximate chronology to the to the sections on virtual spaces and Baz Luhrmann's Australia. But to see it in that order you needed to zigzag through the hall; if, like I did (and many others seemed to), you stick to the wall adjacent to the entry and work along it, you see the exhibition in an illogical order. For example, the virtual spaces section is the third you come to, and Australia is about halfway through, but the section on Metropolis is almost the last. The counter-intuitive layout seemed cruelly ironic given the ostensible focus on heightening awareness of space in movies.

Many of the exhibits took the form of video screens, with interviews with production designers, clips from relevant movies, behind-the-scenes footage, or combinations thereof. Video-based presentations are obviously vital to exhibitions of this type, but for an institution totally focused on discussion of the moving image, ACMI seem remarkably clueless about the strengths and weaknesses of such displays, or how they should be presented. There seemed to be a sense that if they just put up informational videos about movies, they were fulfilling their mandate as a centre for the moving image; many displays were the kind of things you'd find as DVD extras (some, like the material on Steven Spielberg's The Terminal, I suspect were exactly that). Yet on DVD we enjoy these things while sitting on our couch, not standing looking at a wall. Video screens are great for presenting examples from films, and short bits of information, but they have an inherent problem in that the viewer is forced to enjoy them at the speed they unfold. Too much of this exhibition was presented through videos which presented superficial information at too slow a pace, meaning much of the exhibition became a painful exercise of waiting for displays to get to the point. Written boards of information might be less fashionable, but they allow the viewer to quickly scan to the points that interest them. Sometimes newfangled isn't actually better.

Even the legitimate uses of video presentations seemed poorly thought out. For example, a large video screen in the section on Labyrinth Spaces presented clips from The Name of the Rose, Alien, The Shining, and the most pretentious movie ever made, Last Year at Marienbad. It was an interesting display, but the clips were presented on a big screen one after the other; they cried out to be presented simultaneously on adjacent screens so the viewer could compare one to the other and concentrate on those of most interest. (I appreciate ACMI's resources aren't infinite, but keep in mind that there were several dozen video screens in the exhibition as a whole, and ACMI put together a wall of 750 screens for an exhibition a few years ago.

The relative dearth of written information highlighted what seems to me to be a trend in museum exhibitions, which is to let the items on display do all the talking. This is an unfortunate trend because the items are usually only interesting in context. There was very little information about most of the objects presented: in some cases, for example, I was unsure if models presented were actual production models or simply reconstructions for display purposes. There also wasn't much information about individual production designers beyond a basic filmography. I would think, for example, that the section on Ken Adam might have warranted some more detailed discussion on the peculiarities of his style or his place in film history, but I was left to fill those gaps myself; this meant I undoubtedly missed the significance of some of the less familiar figures.

I also thought more could have been done to actually explore the issues raised. The introductions to each section were interesting and accessible overviews, but they essentially were stand-alone pieces, without any further follow-up. This meant that the exhibition alluded to all sorts of interest questions, but generally in only the glibbest of ways. For example, the Virtual Spaces exhibit invited some exploration of what it means to take away real places from movies: what are the artistic consequences of such an action? Lars von Treier's Dogville also copped a mention, and raised similar issues about the absence of place in film. The sections on Metropolis and Spaces of Power raised all sorts of interesting questions about the power of films as an ideological tool (there has been a great deal written, for example, about Metropolis as a precursor to the Nazi state). Yet these issues were alluded to in only the most general way. I appreciate that this was an exhibition, not an essay, but I felt that there was scope for something more than the very generalised discussion of such points.

I freely admit that its possible I'm being too harsh: I am very interested in this subject area, so perhaps I was too critical, or sought a level of discussion that would have bored the punters silly. I'd therefore be interested in hearing what readers thought. Were others as disappointed by this as I was?

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