ARTIST PRESENTATION
Lorie Novak
Novak
Synopsis
by
Ron Witherspoon
Lorie
Novak’s work could serve as a model for process and presentation. Novak
challenges and works with metaphors of personal and collective memory so
concisely, that her works could be used by psychotherapists to elicit memory
recall.
Initially
working with her family photographs projected into rooms, then re-photographed
and re-projected, Lorie began a journey to the soul. Her layering
of imagery not only connotes time and place in order to change the meaning
of an image, but it also creates a bigger emotional picture.
From
her re-photographed indoor images to the projected photographs in a natural
landscape, Novak explores the concept of projecting thoughts wherever one
may go. Novak takes herself, and surely her audience, on an inward
trek to reveal a hidden truth through forgotten memories. Novak also
explores death and decay by projecting photographs onto trees and nature. She
also explores growing up as a female by using school pictures from throughout
her early school years in her projections.
Novak’s
latest project is a combination of her own family images and photographs
from other families installed with audio response of those images by the
viewers. What is evoked is a rich dialogue between the audience,
the projected images and the personal memory recall.
Novak Analysis
by
Danny Yahav-Brown
While
watching Lorie Novak’s slides, which were taken from her project
in Alice Island, I couldn’t stop thinking of pictorial representations
of holy scenes in chapels during the Renaissance. Novak’s projection
of family snap shots on the walls of a long deserted corridor came across
as a comment to this old pictorial tradition. However, more than just being
a tongue in cheek gesture, it seems to me that this specific image can
represent a proper starting point for discussing different implications
of Novak’s work as a whole.
The
Alice Island series was interesting to me on two levels. The first
one has to do with the relationship between the actual physical space (either
the architectural structure of the prison’s walls, or the outdoors)
and the projected image. The second one deals with Novak’s insistence
on using still images rather than time-based images (video projection).
But this will change later on when Novak starts using video projection
in her work.
On
the first level, Novak’s work juxtaposes a virtual space, that of
the projected photographs and the actual space, with that of the prison.
Personal memory is being blended with a collective one; the private is
being blended with the public. This procedure allows Novak to go back and
forth between the literal and the metaphorical, suggesting allusive space--one
that is in a constant state of expending and shrinking. Novak is interested
in creating a multi-layered effect where one space is being contained by
another. Hence, the end product in the gallery--a still photograph--
represents the space of the snap shot that is being projected in the space
of the prison, that is being photographed and transformed into a still
photograph.
By
eclipsing the boundaries between the signified and the signifier, and by
creating the picture within the picture effect, Novak keeps the viewers
deprived of any kind of photographic truth, which asks them to doubt and
reconfigure, yet again, the validity of the photographic image as evidence.
In
her recent installation, “Collective Visions”, Novak projected
slides accompanied by sound. I find this piece very intriguing in
the sense that it raises questions in regards to the cinematic relationship
between still images and time based images. In that respect, her installation
has some similarities to Chris Marker’s “La Jetee”. The
use of the still rather than a video projection or film constitutes a critical
moment in the history of the image--a moment that slightly breaks from
the cinematic grammar. Rosalind Krauss successfully articulates this moment
as the final image. Krauss continues to ask whether this final image is
the one that we would see at the moment of our deaths--an image whose approach
we can narrate cinematically but whose occurrence can only produce an explosively
static still.