Mirror, Mirror

Geoffrey Allan Rhodes creates a series of impossible spaces in his current installation at the Big Orbit, Double Narcissism. Rhodes’ videos flow in a linear, 12-minute sequence throughout the space, which has been painted black to give the show a cinematic feel.

A still from Geoffrey Allan Rhodes’ Mirror Series.

Double Narcissism is informed by Rhodes’ documentary Made Over in America, about plastic surgery in LA. For that film he interviewed participants in the Fox reality show The Swan. He talked to surgeons and the contestants and found that the recipients of such surgeries suffered from low self-esteem and a variety of other insecurities, including body dysmorphic maladies. Their obsession with conforming to an unattainable ideal of beauty led to a narcissism that bordered on pathology.

Extreme examples of vanity also fascinate Rhodes, including bodybuilders who project an exaggerated masculinity through harsh diets, workout regimens, and even implants that mimic muscles.

Through several video installations he explores the state of self-examination. One enclosure, Mirror Series, has four separate segments, projected onto plexiglass, which take place in front of his bathroom mirror. We spend a great deal of our time in front of mirrors, shaving, brushing, combing, grooming, applying makeup. The mirror becomes a source of anxiety for ways in which we may perfect or enhance our appearance.

Rhodes creates separate spaces by adding in layers of perspectives and audio recordings within each frame. Arias sung by Enrico Caruso provide aural elements.

At first glance, these are seemingly mundane vignettes in which Rhodes appears to be engaged in cutting his hair or other intimate activities. However, in the hair cutting sequence, he isn’t really cutting his hair. We see him stand in front of the mirror, put on a welder’s helmet, paint the small window of the helmet until it is reflective, and within the window the back of his head appears with the scissors clipping away, while his arms make the motions. It is a magic act.

What we don’t see is that he has painted the window with blue paint. In editing, the blue has been chromakeyed out and footage of him snipping his hair has been added.

(Chromakeying is most familiar in its use for special effects in movies and for the weather report—when we see the meteorologist giving us the day’s forecast over a blue or green screen.)

The pieces are reminiscent of Rene Magritte’s Portrait of Edward James, a work that elicits a double-take: a painting of the back of a man’s head looking into a mirror whose reflection contains the back of his head. Magritte’s painting teases us; we know we should see James’ face rather than his back. Like Magritte, Rhodes likes to toss the absurd at us and distort our sense of space.

Rhodes courts controversy in one loop, in which he is seen in a state of self-pleasure while his face is overladen with the image of an infant. We see his upper body and hear the noises and infer his actions. There is an uncomfortable moment as we process this video, until we realize that he isn’t gazing at the infant. The next thought is: Is the infant nearby? No, the image has been added in post-production through the chromakey process.

“The piece is about self-regression and infantilism: freedom from anxiety, independent from expectations,” says Rhodes.

In another clip, Rhodes applies a thick layer of blue acrylic paint onto himself until it covers his face and body. In photo stills the blue paint is still visible and he appears Smurf-like. After chromakeying, he vanishes like the Invisible Man, in an act of self-negation.

Rhodes’ pieces are also a commentary on how the current generation has become quite media savvy, employing tools such as Facebook and MySpace to construct personas. “People today are a lot more aware of publicity and the practice of self-promotion. They spend a great deal of time within their online communities and the feedback they get is its own reward,” says Rhodes.

The spaces Rhodes has filmed leave you puzzling at how they’ve been constructed. An illusionist’s hand is at work here: Glass, mirrors, and editing have you wondering where it is exactly that he or the cameras are positioned—contemporary metaphors for a narcissistic age where individuals struggle for conformity and self affirmation.

The show is on view until June 28 at Big Orbit, 30d Essex Street (bigorbitgallery.org/560-968).

—lucy yau