Candice Breitz is fascinated by identity, popular culture, television, consumerism, the entertainment industry, and identical twins.
The Power Plant is currently host to Candice Breitz: Same Same, the first major North American installation of Breitz’s critical investigation into the world of outward impressions and self-made identity, and the shambolic union of all things contemporary culture. Breitz does this through four visual installations.
One part of the gallery space is dedicated to “Him and Her” (2008), a brilliant depiction of the male-female dichotomy seen through Hollywood’s hyper-critical eyes. The installation is in two parts: one room dedicated to Jack Nicholson, the other to Meryl Streep. The budding actor and actress lead in their respective gender categories as having the most Oscar nominations (Nicholson with 12 nominations and three wins, Streep with 15 nominations and two wins). Nicholson and Streep, perhaps for this reason, have come to represent the archetypes of the male and female form.
The screening room shows numerous Meryl Streeps engaged in a conversation, at times by herself, and at other times, with herself. This is a deliciously confusing, thought-provoking image, constructing and deconstructing the notion of “self” in a world of ever-globalizing media culture.
“Becoming” (2003) is another installation that tugs at the question of self and identity. Clips from various romantic comedies from teenage years past—images of Drew Barrymore and Julia Roberts—play looped with microphones attached to the screen. The dialogues (or monologues) are trite and easy. On another screen, Breitz herself mimics the Hollywood actresses in what she affectionately calls, “body karaoke.” Breitz mimes and mimics the Barrymores and the Robertses. Their dialogues, divorced from the familiar faces and props, are rendered comical.
Walk back into the main gallery space and four rooms to the left showcase “Four Duets” (2000). These mini-studios house two television sets facing each other, playing a tersely edited video of Whitney Houston performing the famous score of “I Will Always Love You,” and Olivia Newton-John in select scenes from Grease. These looped images of Houston and Newton-John are played against the backdrop of painfully bright neon-coloured walls. What was intended as a musical declaration on everlasting love, is reduced to monosyllabic reruns of sappy love songs.
But what has to be the highlight of this refreshing study of culture and identity is “Factum” (2009), three pairs of two-part video portraits of monozygotic twins discussing their autonomous (and shared) struggle of defining themselves in a society that places insurmountable value on the individual. The title, “Factum,” is an homage to Robert Rauschenberg’s infamous near-identical paintings. The work lives up to the allusion: as the studies of these three sets of twins reveal, no matter the twins’ apparent sameness, they will never be exactly alike.
It is an interesting exercise sitting in front of the two screens showing seemingly the same image (the twins are dressed the same and interviewed in the same location, often their home) and to watch as the identity of each twin betrays the camouflage. Whether it is the tone in their voice, the subtle mannerism, or the diverging character traits, something will inevitably give away the individual’s true colour.
Posed the same set of questions, the answers the twins give often overlap, and sometimes collide. The exercise of recollecting the past reveals that the presence of this other half-self seems to both threaten and affirm how each interviewee thinks of him or herself. They show genuine curiosity towards the non-twin life (or “singletons” as the twins would call it). “It would be so liberating, but I would also be completely lost,” says Hanna Kang, one of the twins interviewed. Duality is what seems to fascinate Breitz, and this curiosity is manifest as a recurring theme in her works.
Through her liberal use of pop music, television, and Hollywood, Breitz playfully explores heavier discussions of self. By capturing candid moments in which identity, in its various forms, engages in dialogue with popular culture, Breitz urges us to be critical of the all-too familiar terrains of mass culture and consumerism. Breitz is critical of what it means to nurture the notion of the self in this all-too-invasive world. She achieves this by dissecting the interplay between art and popular culture, and the ambiguous line that runs through them.
Same, Same runs at The Power Plant (231 Queens Quay W.) through November 15.
