At the entrance to the Hirshhorn Museum’s newest exhibition, “The Cinema Effect: Illusion, Reality, and Moving Image; Part I: Dreams,” a gaggle of visitors stood before an illusion of a thick velvet curtain blocking their way, debating how to get around it.
“You’re supposed to go right on through,” a helpful security guard offered. “It’s just a sheet and some lights.” The thought of stepping through this symbol of moviemaking glamour hadn’t occurred to the museum-goers, and one woman remarked “I feel famous!” upon parting the curtains and reaching the bright lights on the other side.
According to its curators, “The Cinema Effect: Dreams” (the first exhibit in a two-part series, to be followed by “Realisms” in June) wants to explore the impact of cinema on our perceptions of reality and address film’s ability to transport us into a dream world. Even the experience of viewing the exhibition subtly shows how cinema allows us to suspend disbelief, as evidenced by the visitors’ excitement at having the chance to pass through the curtain.
The Hirshhorn ambitiously transformed the museum’s second floor gallery space into a virtual series of theaters, complete with tall dark walls, very little lighting and separate galleries for each film. People even began to form lines outside individual ‘theaters’ as if waiting for the next showtime, even though the galleries are spacious and standing room is always available. Walking through “The Cinema Effect” differs from viewing a traditional visual art exhibition because you need to spend a few minutes watching the pieces, as opposed to quickly passing by as you might for paintings or sculpture.
Some of the pieces, though, are not meant to be viewed in their entirety. Andy Warhol’s “Sleep,” a five-hour-long film of a sleeping man, references the exhibition’s dream theme and challenges perceptions of what kinds of stories film can tell. Similarly, Anthony McCall’s six-hour-long “You and I Horizontal” is a metaphoric representation of a movie theater’s dreamlike world. The viewer stands in a darkened, fog-filled room between the projector’s slowly moving lasers and the blank screen, entering a mystifying illusion similar to what floating between layers of clouds might feel like.
Those fascinated by the technology of filmmaking might be captivated by Rodney Graham’s “Rheinmetall/Victoria 8,” a functioning outdated projector positioned under a spotlight that makes the process of viewing a movie a work of art in itself. To emphasize the millions of fragments that compose a fluid-looking film scene, Christopher Giradet’s “Release” unravels a few seconds of the famous King Kong scream scene into a 9-minute remix. A few frames at a time repeat for thirty seconds or so, making the viewer numb to the original terror of the woman’s scream and attuned to the hundreds of individual pictures that comprise it.
Although these explorations of the purpose and process of film offer an insightful look into the creation of cinema, the curators don’t shy away from the thing that unfailingly brings us back to the movies: storytelling. The iconic video artist Tony Oursler’s “Switch” projects the face of a passionate director onto a stuffed doll hanging eerily on the wall, coaxing his background actors through a scene full of gratuitous violence and lustful longing. Viewers can almost believe they’re part of the movie, as the lifelike projection of the director’s face tricks you into forgetting his doll-like body. Toward the end of the exhibition, the curators reward visitors who stuck through the less plot-oriented pieces with the short film “Trailer” by Saskia Olde Wolbers. A slippery Borgesian story about the coincidental meeting between rare Amazonian flytraps and a man whose life changes after seeing a trailer at the local cineplex is complemented by gorgeous images of surreally dripping theatres and plants.
Some pieces in “The Cinema Effect” challenge our notion that moving pictures on a screen require a story, while others indulge it magnificently. One of the most impressive exhibitions currently in D.C., “The Cinema Effect” delivers a well-conceived blend of pieces to create an alternate, dream-like world.
“The Cinema Effect: Illusion, Reality, and the Moving Image; Part I: Dreams” will be on display at the Hirshhorn Museum on the National Mall until May 14. The museum is open from 10:00 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. daily. Admission is free.
