La Descente
Robert Croma has a new video entry, La Descente. The project is not video blogging, they are more considered, formal, graceful and rare than that. Slow motion, a sea of people descending, I assume to the Metro (following earlier work from Paris), or the Tube (he is British), or perhaps we’re in New York. I can’t yet tell. It is the morning, well I imagine it is the morning simply because they look like they are on their way to work, not home (it is a descent, after all). Sort of Metropolis for 2010. Some notice the camera and watch as they walk, because of course you couldn’t pause here, not on the way to work and not within this slow sea of movement. It is perhaps, what, a quarter of the way through and my tension, pleasure, anxiety rises as I am waiting for something. Croma’s work regularly uses some postproduction digital effects to highlight, enframe and detail momentary and otherwise missed moments of quotidian elegance and grace. Is it that person, watching the camera and the video maker, is this the moment. No. It continues. I realise I have been wrong. That’s a student, this must be afternoon, no student leaves for university at the same time as the workers, and that tabloid so many have, I realise it’s the Evening Standard, so it is the afternoon, people heading home. So now I read their faces as tiredness, the fatigue not of what lies ahead, but of what has been. The day that was and the crush and rush of the ride home. And I notice the shopping bags, the small and large talismans bought back from the day in the city. Nothing happens, beyond the interminable crowds. Mums, dads, kids, people with phones, iPods, bags, prams, trolleys. It is poetic observation, sort of Renoir’s romantic realism with Vertov’s cyborg eye that lets us see what we can’t see (well, he didn’t call it that but that’s what he’d be up to today, wouldn’t he?).