The original breakup email, in FrenchThe premise is totally Calle in its self-obsession bordering on narcissism, and in many ways it even formally and structurally resembles her piece Exquisite Pain, which appeared most recently in Toronto at The Power Plant's "Auto Emotion" group exhibition last summer.
But whereas some people I spoke to were turned off by Exquisite Pain's self-referentiality, by involving so many diverse women and prioritizing their training or profession above their personal interpretations (for the most part), Prenez soin de vous seems to side-step that landmine and to offer a more distanced meditation on love, heartbreak and revenge while still keeping a classic Sophie Calle twist. It helps that the original breakup email is so painfully awkward and pretentious, making it almost impossible to identify or sympathize with its author.
That said, among the 107 interpretations there are some that work better than others, especially as visual artworks. Some of the more text-focused interpretations seemed to offer more for the viewer, especially the 2nd grader's book report on what she took from the letter, a professional crossword-writer's creation, an SMS language translator's adaptation of the letter into a text-message friendly version and an editor's marked up version of errors and repetition in the original.
Sophie Calle, Prenez soin de vous, 2007 [detail]
But whereas some people I spoke to were turned off by Exquisite Pain's self-referentiality, by involving so many diverse women and prioritizing their training or profession above their personal interpretations (for the most part), Prenez soin de vous seems to side-step that landmine and to offer a more distanced meditation on love, heartbreak and revenge while still keeping a classic Sophie Calle twist. It helps that the original breakup email is so painfully awkward and pretentious, making it almost impossible to identify or sympathize with its author.
That said, among the 107 interpretations there are some that work better than others, especially as visual artworks. Some of the more text-focused interpretations seemed to offer more for the viewer, especially the 2nd grader's book report on what she took from the letter, a professional crossword-writer's creation, an SMS language translator's adaptation of the letter into a text-message friendly version and an editor's marked up version of errors and repetition in the original.
Sophie Calle, Prenez soin de vous, 2007 [detail]I also found the large-format photos of each woman reading the letter a bit hokey and unnecessary, as though it forced the viewer to play what quickly became a very tiring game of "match the name/profession on the interpretation to the portrait" that seemed to be included in order to mix up the very text-heavy installation with some brief shots of colourful and graphic representation. Cait pointed out, though, that without these portraits, the viewer would be left at sea amongst an incredible number of interpretations and that the photos did provide a nice anchor and personal entry point for what were sometimes almost impenetrable documents.
I was sort of hoping that some of the video works would offer more insight to the process that went into Calle's selection of the women and their relationship to one another during the interpretations. But instead, they mostly focused on actors, dancers, and musicians' interpretations of the letter which, while interesting, still left me asking questions. Were the women Calle chose personal acquaintances, or did she find them through recommendations and professional references? Why, for instance, are almost all the women white and middle class? How much direction were they given in how to execute and present their interpretation? Did Calle edit any of their responses? Did any of them refuse to participate?
The closest I got to answers to any of these queries was in a video with a family counsellor, who meets with Calle (the only time she appears in the show, to my knowledge) in one chair and a hard copy of the letter in another. The audio track that accompanies it allows you to hear the counsellor asking Calle for clarification about some of the vaguer references in the letter, and to hear about Calle's personal reaction to the letter and some of the context of its delivery. While, at times, this window into Calle's own experiences makes her seem less heroic and occasionally even whiny, the video manages to complicate the rest of the installation and to question Calle's involvement in, and response to, the breakup.
I came away from the show, as I do from all Calle pieces, unsure of what I thought of it. I am still in awe of its scale and complexity, and in awe of DHC's coup in acquiring it for exhibition, but continue to be troubled by some of its political implications. Which is maybe the point in the first place.
I was sort of hoping that some of the video works would offer more insight to the process that went into Calle's selection of the women and their relationship to one another during the interpretations. But instead, they mostly focused on actors, dancers, and musicians' interpretations of the letter which, while interesting, still left me asking questions. Were the women Calle chose personal acquaintances, or did she find them through recommendations and professional references? Why, for instance, are almost all the women white and middle class? How much direction were they given in how to execute and present their interpretation? Did Calle edit any of their responses? Did any of them refuse to participate?
The closest I got to answers to any of these queries was in a video with a family counsellor, who meets with Calle (the only time she appears in the show, to my knowledge) in one chair and a hard copy of the letter in another. The audio track that accompanies it allows you to hear the counsellor asking Calle for clarification about some of the vaguer references in the letter, and to hear about Calle's personal reaction to the letter and some of the context of its delivery. While, at times, this window into Calle's own experiences makes her seem less heroic and occasionally even whiny, the video manages to complicate the rest of the installation and to question Calle's involvement in, and response to, the breakup.
I came away from the show, as I do from all Calle pieces, unsure of what I thought of it. I am still in awe of its scale and complexity, and in awe of DHC's coup in acquiring it for exhibition, but continue to be troubled by some of its political implications. Which is maybe the point in the first place.



Hey Gabby,
ReplyDeleteIt is great to read your analysis of this work. I haven't been able to see it myself, but I'm always interested in what Calle is doing.
I love some of her stuff, but the explicit self-indulgence factor can be a bit of a turnoff sometimes, I find.
In any case, it's good to see a less-than-starstruck aka levelheaded review!
Thanks, Leah. I think I have a bit of a love-hate relationship with Calle. I get totally taken in with the concept of each of her projects, and with how beautifully and carefully executed they are, but then the more I think about the impact of them, the more confused and sort of icky I feel. Which is probably part of the appeal in the first place.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I liked your analysis as well. I enjoyed the piece but, like you, was a bit leery of the photographic portraiture. My biggest problem, alas, was my own-- absolutely rubbish French comprehension!
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