ADVERTISEMENT

    Art Review: William Kentridge’s “The Refusal of Time” at the Wexner Center

    Location. Location. Location. It’s everything, right? That old adage is certainly true in the case of William Kentridge’s Refusal of Time; a multi-media installation that seems perfectly suited to its spot in the farthest reaches of the Wexner Center galleries. It’s the last house on the left. The end of the line. The final stop. That sounds foreboding, but given that Kentridge himself views this piece as a lyrical means of examining our march to the grave, it’s a good place to start.

    ADVERTISEMENT

    Refusal of Time presents viewers with a series of video vignettes screened in what could pass for an abandoned sound stage or theater. Crates, lumber and plywood are stacked about the periphery of the room. Megaphones balance atop over-sized tripods. Spike marks delineate the location of furniture, and stage flats lean against the walls. The only thing out of place in this otherwise static arrangement is the looming machine in the middle of the room; whirring and creaking away like a pair of ancient bellows, simultaneously keeping time and (presumably) breathing life into the whole affair.

    In this setting, Kentridge unleashes a meditation on time that is playful, insightful, challenging and ultimately affirming. By working mostly in black and white and swinging between light and dark, Kentridge pays homage to the cycle of day and night that defines our most universal understanding of time. From there, he and his collaborators present the variety of ways time might be measured and manipulated beyond the passing days. Kentridge shows time as a series of repetitive movements, time as defined by rhythm and sound, time as a feature of geography, and time as a march toward finality.

    If that sounds vague and thematic, it’s not. The strength of Refusal is that Kentridge grounds the whole project firmly in the realms of science, technology and history. That’s the foundation from which he lets the art build and explore.

    As a means of expression, then, Refusal is something of a period costume drama. References to colonialism, silent films, optical telegraphs, newly adopted time zones, player piano rolls and nascent physics orient the installation visually to the late Victorian/Edwardian era (If there are times during Refusal that it feels like you’re sitting in the center of Zoetrope, well, that’s probably not a coincidence). It’s during these decades that our modern understanding of time took hold. Henceforth, time would be mechanical and precise.

    To that eventuality, there’s a moment in Refusal when the words, “Give us back our sun” appear on screen. If Refusal contained a narrative arc, this might represent the climax. It’s a demand. It’s a line in the sand. It’s a refusal to have time dictated by clocks and train timetables. History and our path forward hang in the balance. What will time look like? How will it be measured? Obviously we know the answer. The sun is obsolete. For how can we; in this age of artificial light, just-in-time delivery and GPS connected time-keeping, trust something so clumsy and erratic as the sun with something so precious as time?

    Thematic considerations aside, Refusal presents a work of unassuming levity and genuine charm. The handmade quality of the sets and animation, the lack of illusory devices, and the guileless efforts of the actors all contribute to Refusal’s most human moments. For as imposing as Refusal can be, the hand of the artist and his collaborators are very much on view. In this way, (and perhaps in spite of the lofty themes) The Refusal of Time maintains a very personal, even intimate scale.

    That shouldn’t be too surprising given Kentridge’s thoughts on his work. He acknowledges that not one of us will escape the march of time. It’s what we do with the time we have that matters. Our desire to create, to make, to leave something behind is our line in the sand. “It’s the celebration of making against the fact of our eventual disappearance. That’s the refusal of time.”

    William Kentridge’s The Refusal of Time is on view at the Wexner Center for the Arts from February 3 until April 15, 2018.

    ADVERTISEMENT

    Subscribe

    More to Explore:

    Jeff Regensburger
    Jeff Regensburger
    Jeff Regensburger is a painter, librarian, and drummer in the rock combo The Christopher Rendition. He received a Bachelor’s Degree in Fine Arts (Painting and Drawing) from The Ohio State University in 1990 and an Master’s Degree in Library Science from Kent State University in 1997. Jeff blogs sporadically (OnSummit.blogspot.com), tweets occasionally (@jeffrey_r), and paints as time allows.
    ADVERTISEMENT