Gillian Wearing’s 2 into 1
The short video projection 2 into 1 (1997) features a mother and her two sons, one generation lip-synching the dubbed words of the other. It is hypnotically disturbing to watch a pair of 10-year-old twins take turns speaking their mother’s exasperated love for them. “I think Lawrence is absolutely adorable, he’s gorgeous, I love every inch of him,” Lawrence says, in a slightly raspy woman’s voice. “But he’s got a terrible temper.” Halfhearted affirmations of self-esteem also figure in the mother’s monologue, along with deep fatigue, all sounding precociously sympathetic–if not a touch demonic–coming from her children’s lips. Equally unnerving is the mother’s mimed recitation, heard in the soft, clear voices of clever preadolescent boys, of her sons’ accounts of her. We hear their criticism of her driving (“too slow”) and clothes (“she doesn’t dress too well”), and their complaint that she goes out to clubs too much (slightly disheveled and obviously anxious, she looks like she could use the break). For their part, the boys, baby-faced and natty but incipiently loutish, are hardly ingratiating. A dazzlingly deft expression of the complex pushes and pulls in the mother-son relationship, 2 into 1 is an even more concise articulation of the triangulated relationship between artist, subject and viewer. Treating emotional truth as if it were the coin under the three fast-shuffled cups of a sidewalk con artist, this video pictures the circulation of meaning as a kind of vaudeville act, fast, funny and a little cruel.

ideas worth spreading

TED-curator Chris Anderson zegt dat het toenemend gebruik van webvideo’s een wereldwijd fenomeen in gang zet dat hij ‘publiekversnelde innovatie’ noemt: een zelfversterkende leercyclus die even invloedrijk kan zijn als destijds de uitvinding van de drukpers was. Om de vruchten ervan te plukken moeten organisaties echter bereid zijn zich radicaal open te stellen. En voor TED betekende dat het begin van een heel nieuw hoofdstuk.


repost omdat hij net is uitgezonden bij avro’s close-up
de documentaire staat online bij uitzending gemist

‘It was really only one photograph that started me off,’ Ragnar Axelsson, known as Rax says. ‘An old man in a rowing boat and his dog on a skerry. I thought to myself, these men are vanishing. If I don’t photograph them now, no one will remember them and no one will know that they ever existed.’