REVIEW

EDITED BY BEN HELME AND SYED ZAID ALI

by SOPHIE JORDAN

e medium of charcoal o en conjures up images of smudged ngerprints on cold white paper and vague memories of the brittle material from school art lessons. Yet William Kentridge’s exhibition at the Royal Academy makes the material the main attraction -- and never has charcoal been so theatrical. is exhibition covers the epic forty-year trajectory of Kentridge’s career. It launches the viewer into an almost overwhelming tour of images that follow the making of modern South Africa. Born in in 1955, the artist’s life story is deeply a ected by apartheid-era South Africa, where his father was a defence lawyer to both Mandela and Biko. is theme is continuously drawn upon.

e exhibition begins in the 1980s, where dizzying, large-scale charcoal images depict Johannesburg. Principal among these are the triptychs: e Conservationist’s Ball and e Embarkation. ese images show the value of charcoal; it is a medium that can be moved and moulded. Kentridge’s playfulness with the charcoal means these images are o en reduced to shadow. e motifs present in these images provide profound insight into Kentridge’s psyche, which is deeply focused on the legacy of colonialism and apartheid. To add to this, the allusions to Weimar Germany are unavoidable, as e Conservationist’s Ball pays a clear homage to the artist Otto Dix. e movement witnessed in these triptychs make the following rooms almost predictable. e blurred charcoal informs the development of Kentridge into an artist that experiments with lm and performance.

As we move into the lms, characters and gures begin to emerge as consistent features. One such example is Soho Eckstein, a ctional white industrialist who repeatedly returns over a 40-year period. A central room to the Royal Academy show puts up ve screens, depicting various scenes, such as the seafront. Ultimately, the room is a testament to the scale of Kentridge as an artist. As you move from lm to lm you nd yourself slightly lost in the moving drawings, as you become consumed in the rapidly moving images that draw upon a whirling narrative of South Africa. e lms themselves are stop motion animated, which Kentridge produces by recording and merging charcoal drawings. According to Kentridge, whilst he never intended to make illustrations of apartheid, the lms that he produced “feed o the brutalised society le in its wake.”

Arguably the centre-piece of the exhibition is the 2005 piece, Black Box/Chamber Noir. is piece occupies an entire room, utilising robotics and a theatre set up to depict the brutal 1908 genocide in German South-West Africa (now Namibia). Images are projected alongside robotic puppets as the stage explores the violent genocide of the Herero and Nama people. e presentation is unnerving, as the theatrical set up exists uneasily against the devastating subject matter.

Another major aspect of the exhibition are the tapestries. Carte Hypsométrique de l’Empire Russe, a 2022 piece, was custom made for the Royal Academy walls. It is a poignant reminder of contemporary issues around migration and the dangerous journey migrants take, as it captures a 2016 scene on the banks of Rome. is is the part of the exhibition where Kentridge’s signature style is lost. Whilst the scale is undeniably impactful, it departs too strongly from what makes Kentridge fundamentally an interesting artist – the movement of the material.

Upon leaving the exhibition, there is a palpable sense that Kentridge aims to overwhelm and produce a body of work that is di cult to consume in one sitting. Indeed, perhaps that is what de nes Kentridge. He is an international artist able to incorporate a vast myriad of mediums and themes all at once. In equal parts thrilling and challenging, this immersive show goes well beyond the typical retrospective. I highly recommend it.

My all-time best is Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s 2006 lm, Syndromes and a Century. Weerasethakul, ever the fan of dichotomies, contrasts human relationships in two hospital settings: one in present day Bangkok, and the other in rural Khon Kaen, 40 years prior.

At the risk of alienating potential viewers, I will say that there isn’t much of a coherent plot. e lm is mostly a collection of moments, each with a tranquil, slice-of-life ease to it. ese scenes are reprised, tweaked, and fragmented, playing out rst in the rural warmth of lush greenery, then again in uorescent lights and urban sterility. Weerasethakul chooses to subvert narrative convention – instead cra ing a stunning rumination on memory, reality and time.

is isn’t, however, an indictment of modernity –Weerasethakul isn’t being moralistic and yearning for the good old days when we weren’t corrupted by greed and self-interest. Even in the isolation of the big city, we see little pockets of intimacy and quiet moments of connection. ese scenes ask us to consider what life would be like if we only cared more about each other. ey are a hope, even a prayer.

ere are plenty of excellent lms that I’ve seen over the years. And then there’s the rare lm like Syndromes and a Century that leaves me in a haze for weeks, feeling like life will never be the same. Happy watching.

by Alvvays

by SEBASTIAN CHING