Cassandra Tytler:
“I Warned You” at Sumu Studio
10.6. – 30.6.2011
http://sumuair.wordpress.com/2011/05/30/cassandra-tytler-i-warned-you-10-6-30-6-2011/

*Opening: Friday 10th of June at 18–20
Welcome!*

This idea is born primarily from my interest in the schizophrenic and
confused representations of female sexuality within our popular culture,
be they sexy, alluring, shameful, horrific, dangerous, infantile, crazy,
excessive or out of control. I am primarily referencing the figure of
the 50 foot Woman, which is now a cliché in itself, pushed to the point
of banality. The dual representations of this figure as being scared and
scary, possessing a powerful sexuality while also being possessed by it,
being self-pitying and vengeful, is interesting to me because this is a
representation of the excessive woman, born from the questions
continually raised through a glut of representations. The ‘monstrous
feminine’ whose anger, distress, sadness, shame and sexuality has made
her something to be feared and cannot be contained.

I am performing a figure dripping in cultural agenda, while never
absolutely answering itself except for the lone cry at everyone: “I
Warned You”.

*Perilous, Pliable, Projected*

Just as no amount of hi-tech wig design and fast-cutting stunt-double
trickery could save John Travolta and Nicolas Cage in Face/Off (1997)
from appearing like your dad doing bad kung-fu tumble-rolls at the local
petrol station, no amount of digital posting could ‘de-impress’ the wire
work supporting Angelina Jolie’s lithe latexed body in Lara Croft: Tomb
Raider (2001). While dumb American’s insist on their pre-fabricated
‘dreams’ being ‘utterly realistic’ in the vicarious script-doctored
nocturnal emissions screening in their collective cine-consciousness,
they seem consistently blind to the material reality of the poseable
doll-like figures parading as heroes and heroines in their cine-dreams.
Angelina Jolie as Lara Croft looks like a suburban secretary who has
recently bought a Gloria Estefan Best Of CD doing rock-climbing on a
hens’ night organized by 11 year old boys masturbating to secret camera
footage of Angelina’s antics. Like all pliable idols, she does not
strike a pose like Madonna: she is incessantly posed, held in place by
World of Warcraft-playing slobs with bad breath who excrete their
hi-tech compositing in cramped offices doing out-sourced work for major
Hollywood studios.

Those guys – like the audiences who drool over the likes of Angelina –
would probably laugh at the ‘B-Grade’ effects in seminal 50s movies like
Attack of the 50 Foot Woman (1958) without realizing that they are
‘future-fitting’ ‘B-Grade’ fare for future generations (or for those of
us who thought The Matrix was crud when it came out). The saving grace
of the idol/figurine projected into fantastic movie scenarios –
especially when their situation is utterly impossible – is that they can
reveal the material reality of their production while implausibly
emoting a reaction to their un-actual situation. Allison Hayes in Attack
of the 50 Foot Woman looks like a 50s housewife on valium, slowly moving
with vague motivation, never being clear on her actions and never
convincingly destroying anything in her reach. She lunges like in a
waking dream, half there, half-somewhere else. The cardboard around her
wobbles in slo-mo; the slo-mo camera work prevents her from speaking,
rendering her as a mysterious maternal mute of America’s post-war
somnambulism .

Cassandra Tytler’s I Warned You highlights these schisms of unconvincing
projection combined with delusional intent – particularly as depicted by
the lineage of perilous Paulines acting melodramatically in
non-threatening situations. As Cassandra beckons, cajoles, stomps and
admonishes, we wonder what we did to anger her. What is this world of
hers in which we are implicated? Well, if you can’t work that out, it’s
your problem: you were warned.
/
Philip Brophy May 2011/