The Strange Quiet of Things Misplaced - Elisa Markes-Young
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The Authentic Myth

'There are very strict rules. You’re not allowed to come out of character, unless Mike says so, no matter what is happening, short of it getting too violent in a way that Mike may not realise... I had a sharpened screwdriver and I nearly attacked [Ewen Bremer] with it. I was thinking of stopping the improvisation because I was thinking: The character will stab him...'
- David Thewlis discussing his character - Johnny - in Mike Leigh's 1993 film, Naked. (1)

Mike Leigh typically develops the characters for his films using extensive improvisation and rehearsals prior to filming. The actors have enormous demands placed on them and - given the material - there is an inherent danger that limits are stretched.

When it is successful, the protagonists come to life and light up the films. The resultant characters are complex, rich and colourful.

In the same vein, musicologists study in great detail how a composer may have conceived and experienced the music as it was written.

They explore the limitations of the instruments, fashions at the time with tempo and key, the physical materials in the instruments themselves and even the event space. The performance and all it's parameters are finely tuned so as to be as close to the original intent as possible.

The search for an Authentic interpretation of both musical notation and dramatic text is often taken to obsessive levels. It is a very useful tool with which to bridge cultural gaps, create connections and provide broader insight into an artistic practice.

This highly scholastic, often research-based approach to interpreting the past contrasts vividly with the work of emerging artist, Elisa Markes-Young.

She surrenders to the distortions in her memory and rather than attempt to resolve that which is 'missing' academically, she instead explores the gaps themselves. The greyness of her recollections becomes a critical tool in her broader practice.

As we drift through life we encounter many moments where we are left helpless by the fallibility of our physical and mental abilities.

Our experience is corrupted and dulled in that our tentative steps potentially deny us access to broader concepts.

The inability to conjoin memories and knowledge at crucial moments hampers the cohesive development of ideas.

The gap between conscious and sub-conscious knowledge widens as we distance ourselves from the moment of awareness. As this happens, we need to search our sensory experiences more thoroughly to reaffirm memories.

Do we store our experiences well beyond conscious memory? Rather than suffering from loss, are we instead simply unable to access thoughts at will?

This search is flawed. When the ink has faded we are forced to embellish the vision. Our fumbling mark-making distorts the memory itself.

Personal and collective history is very much dependent on, and coloured by images. Is the smiling, playful photo - or otherwise - from our childhood truly indicative of the moment? How has the posing aspect of being formally photographed affected our future interpretation of that event?

An image is merely a minuscule fragment of multiple continuums. Not withstanding the formal aspects (colour, shape, form) there is also the greater issue of it being a sliver of multiple narratives.

A true or pure experience and it's recollection are utopian ideals and even the use of mechanical - supposedly objective - tools to record such experiences results in selective outcomes.

Pattern and the recognition thereof are integral to scientific study and assist greatly in predicting outcomes. The inverse is also true. That is, to calculate the origin of a contemporary moment.

As a scientist might envision an entire creature, hair and all, from the curve of a single bone, memory is also a series of fragments that need conjoining by the protagonist(s) to create a complete image.

When approached schematically, memory is an intertwining of networks, the dimensions, fragility and complexity of which are close to intangible and impossible to render.

When you consider sociological idealism, personal factors and fantasy distort these memories, we should see their recollection as subjective interpretation rather than objective history.

Elisa Markes-Young is fascinated by the fallibility of memory and suffers willingly from self-professed, blinkered sentimentality. She draws parallels between the seemingly disparate - but emotionally connected worlds - of pattern repetition (via traditional handcrafts), memory and professional artistic practice.

Her patterns are very loosely based in folklore and cultural symbolism but much more than this, they are tools with which to explore nostalgia. They are used to communicate a concept rather than being literal recreations. If anything, a scholastic revisiting of the motifs would compromise the recollection itself.

The process of recreating this aspect of Polish tradition and her personal history is deeply meditative and integral to the work. The artworks, as with the reconstruction of some lost creature, build out and upon fragments. They are embellished, moulded, poked and prodded into form. As in life, mistakes are made, threads unravel and scars remain.

Similar to Jazz and other forms of improvisational music, a loose structure is established, instruments are placed close to hand and the response to each malleable moment helps sculpt the next.

Rather than create a highly polished representation of the past, Elisa honours the faint shadows that wander lost in this and her world.

Letting them be shadows is sublime.


(1) Excerpt from an article by Dave Calhoun (Timeout London, August 12, 2008)

christopher young

Christopher Young is a Perth-based photomedia artist and writer. His work addresses concepts of context, implied narrative and space.

The Strange Quiet of Things Misplaced #02

The Strange Quiet of Things Misplaced #13
Pencil, pastel, wool, cotton and silk on Belgian linen, approx. 1100mm x 1100mm.

The Strange Quiet of Things Misplaced #06

The Strange Quiet of Things Misplaced #06
Pencil, pastel, wool, cotton and silk on Belgian linen, approx. 1100mm x 1100mm.

The Strange Quiet of Things Misplaced #14

The Strange Quiet of Things Misplaced #14
Acrylic, pencil, pastel, wool, cotton and silk on Belgian linen, approx. 1100mm x 1100mm.

The Strange Quiet of Things Misplaced #16

The Strange Quiet of Things Misplaced #16
Acrylic, pencil, pastel, wool, cotton and silk on Belgian linen, approx. 1100mm x 1100mm.