Art to float your boat

A watermelon is in the centre of the screen, and we watch it being gradually squeezed as two pairs of hands continuously put rubber bands around it. On another screen, a woman is in the middle of nowhere and suddenly takes out a toaster before hurling it away with all her strength like a hammer throw.

The former is a 30-minute video by New Zealand artist Steve Carr while the latter -- a series of short absurd sketches featuring a woman and household tools going on loop -- is by Australian artist Tania Smith. It's not, however, only the work that fills us with a sense of wonder and suspense but also the space of the exhibit itself. Bobbing against the currents of the Chao Phraya River, they are the latest shows on The Ferry Gallery, a public ferry stationed at Tha Tien which has since 2014 served also as a gallery space devoted specially to video art.

"I think both works are about patience," said Kawita Vatanayankur, The Ferry Gallery's director. "But while Carr's work Watermelon is about patience in terms of time, about waiting for something to change, Smith's Domestic Gestures is about patience concerning the woman's role in the household."

In a recent interview with Life, Steve Carr talked more about his work and what it's like to be exhibited on a boat.

What is your background in art?

I studied my Bachelor of Fine Arts at the Dunedin School of Art, New Zealand, and then after my completion I started an artist-run space in Dunedin called the Blue Oyster Gallery. This space is still running and is a major space dedicated to showcasing emerging artists throughout the country. I then moved to Auckland and I completed my Master of Fine Arts, majoring in sculpture. My works fit between the mediums of moving images, photography and sculpture. I have never been interested in focusing on a singular discipline as I think that it can limit the potential of an idea.

How did the idea for Watermelon come about?

I first thought of the idea of making the watermelon work when I was on a residency in Sapporo in 2010. I was really interested in using super slow motion cameras such as the Phantom HD and it was my intention to make this work when I discovered that it was a common game played by Japanese children. I really enjoyed the link between fun, anticipation and the relationship between the two people involved and the excitement generated from the audience watching the event unfold. It wasn't until years later that I decided to make the film. I dropped the idea of shooting it in slow motion as I realised the interest of the work was in the waiting, not the final effect.

How do you see this particular piece of work in relation to your other works?

My previous films, whether Transpiration or American Night, are about the passing of time, watching the object change from one state to the next. I am interested in filming the process and representing it back to the viewer in a way that makes them feel like they are seeing it again for the first time. Transpiration takes a simple kids' science trick of dying flowers in coloured water and applies time-lapse photography and installation strategies to amplify the experience. American Night uses theatre lighting to speed up time showing the transition of dusk and dawn in 15 minutes. With all these works, time is both slowed up and slowed down at the same moment.

Tell us about the making of Watermelon?

We did a few takes but I knew I had it on the third take, as I was really happy with the way the watermelon burst in the final moment. The important thing about the work to note is that it is a highly considered and well constructed film. Everything is considered: for a start, the two girls who are in the film are cousins. I liked that this gives a synchronicity and rhythm to the piece; they act as one. Their nails are painted with watermelon coloured polish; as mentioned earlier the work is not about the final moment but the anticipation and knowing what is about to happen. The coloured nails remind us of this. The brown card in the background is a nod to Japanese design and to allow the rubber bands to disappear slightly into the background and make the focus more on the hands.

How do you feel about the context of your current exhibit space, in Bangkok and on a ferry gallery?

I like the audience to feel like they are interacting with the film. I see film as a physical material for the viewer to engage with, like they would a live performance, the surface of a sculpture or the texture of a painting. I am excited that the Ferry Gallery heightens that experience; travelling makes you think about duration, it is about the passing of time. I am interested in how many people will get to see the film to its final conclusion. I still don't know how many rubber bands it took to burst the watermelon: perhaps someone could count the amount on his or her trip and let me know.

Watermelon

Still from video work Watermelon. Photo courtesy of Steve Carr