I had totally forgotten about my visit to the new Grace Jones exhibition – Stillness at the Speed of Light – by Chris Levine at The Vinyl Factory. A friend of mine, Rose, had attended the launch night and after hearing about Jones’ usual outbursts I was intrigued to actually see what the bewildering woman had churned out this time around. The woman fascinates me. Her music and personality, her history, has always captivated me, and it was a real dream come true when I had the fortunate luck of seeing her last year. I hadn’t read up much about the exhibition, so was a bit taken aback when I headed downstairs into this eerie enigma of faces staring back at me.
The Vinyl Factory is such a lovely space. Clean, white, yet retaining some character, it’s been transformed into this space like world with scrawling violet lights and stars projected across the room. Jones’ face is instantly recognisable, but then again, when isn’t it? There’s something unnerving as you move past each image and soon realise that the images are actually holograms; her face, her eyes, they move with you as you take the next step, following you around the room. There are small and larger prints (all moderately priced), huge holographic works and smaller video pieces that see her dancing under striking lighting, her eyes turning green as they pass through a laser. It’s terribly haunting.
Of course the pièce de résistance, the grand finale, is the confusing strobe that stares straight back at you – a single light tube that sits vertically. At first it’s hard to work out what the meaning of it is. But there it is, as soon as you avert your eyes, the image of Jones’ face flashes into your mind. Look again and it disappears. Look away, she’s watching. Mesmerising, confusing, entrancing… Sheer trickery. These are some long exposures, shaking the camera from side to side. Not what the eye sees, naturally…
It’s only on until the 14th of May, so get your skates on. It’s free, and it’s most definitely worth the confusion nestled deep amongst the beauty.
