04 SPOTLIGHT: SOPHIE CLEMENTS

How We Fall, 2017 Video credit: Sophie Clements


Sophie Clements filming for When The Clouds Clear,. Image credit: Jacob D’Silva

Sophie Clements filming for When The Clouds Clear,. Image credit: Jacob D’Silva

ART AT THE MOMENT OF CHANGE 

London-based Sophie Clements makes art in the space between filmmaking, sculpture, and sound, ranging from solo gallery works to large-scale installations, collaborating with composers and musicians, as well as with scientists. She has a particular interest in making work through systems that operate, in her words, ‘somehow beyond my control, that let me feel like the initiator of a set of circumstances rather than the sole author’. She also likes to use ‘video as a tool, part of a ‘scientific’ apparatus, to observe something that couldn’t be seen with the naked eye.’ Those approaches came together in There, After, 2011, a collaboration with particle physicist Elisabetta Pallante and organic chemist Ryan Cheichi, which used one camera and hundreds of repeated actions to investigate moments in which a physical element is undergoing a process of structural or chemical change. The related film, How We Fall (2017), uses in contrast 96 cameras to capture one action: single frames from each camera are arranged and displayed consecutively to produce an orbiting hyper-slow-motion view of an explosion of cement.



What is the inspiration for how you combine science and art? 

Shall I This Time Hold You?, 2017. Installation view, Barbican, London 2017 Image credit: Sophie Clements

Shall I This Time Hold You?, 2017. Installation view, Barbican, London 2017

Image credit: Sophie Clements

I feel that three disciplines - science, music and design – come together to characterise my work. My first degree was Biochemistry. I left that before finishing, as I realised I needed an environment and career that would allow me to work across disciplines, but an element of scientific process naturally carried through into my work. 

I became interested in the idea that I could interpret the structures of one medium or discipline in the language of another, using numbers or diagrams as a kind of translating tool- a building can become a musical score, a set of colours can become sounds based on their numerical wavelength value, and so on. This opened me up to a whole world of avant-garde sound, experimental design and systems-based conceptual work. And I found that the use of rules and limitations gave me a newfound freedom to be experimental.

I’m fascinated by physical materials, light, time, and our perception of reality - the fundamental questions that are thrown up in theoretical/quantum physics. For me the bigger, more ambiguous, questions in science translate best into artistic ideas, because they are so close to that already. I combine those scientific ideas with an experimental process: that somehow allows the work to speak about other things, more poetically - so it’s never really ‘about’ scientific ideas, just inspired by that kind of thinking. 

There, After. 2011  Installation view, Seoul Museum of Art, South Korea, 2012.  Image credit: Sophie Clements

There, After. 2011 Installation view, Seoul Museum of Art, South Korea, 2012.
Image credit: Sophie Clements

How We Fall, 2017.  Installation view, FNY Festival, Munich, 2017.  Image credit: Till Luz

How We Fall, 2017. Installation view, FNY Festival, Munich, 2017.
Image credit: Till Luz

What are the creative, technical, and scientific processes involved in the work?  

You might say I find complicated ways to look at simple things - setting up meticulously planned filming scenarios that court and embrace chance and failure. It’s very important that my work is made ‘for real’, rather than a digital rendering, and that often involves going to great lengths to create a controlled environment for chaos. The work becomes a dialogue between my chosen material and natural forces such as gravity, light or wind. There's something very important about the process of trying, the hardship involved, and the sense of the unknown - allowing materials to be, or 'become', themselves. 

There, After. 2011, Process sketchbook examples. Image credit: Sophie Clements

I always start in my sketchbook - I'm a big fan of drawing diagrams as a way of organising abstract thought. With There, After that led to intense discussions with the scientists about our respective work and ideas. I’d have a ‘hunch’ about something, and propose designing an ‘experiment’ to test, refine and then evaluate it - which they found much the same as ‘curiosity driven research’ in science. 

There, After (explosions), 2011. Video credit: Sophie Clements


In both There, After and How We Fall, I designed filming systems that allowed a moment of change to be extruded and observed as a continuous ‘object’. These ‘impossible objects’ somehow speak about change or loss, but also the absurdity or futility of trying to create them in the first place. I see this attempt to capture moments in time as a metaphor for how we as humans tend to deal with change and disintegration, and often call this whole body of work ‘Attempting to Delay the Inevitable’.

Production shot, filming setup, Manchester, How We Fall, 2017. Image credit: Sophie Clements

Production shot, filming setup, Manchester, How We Fall, 2017. Image credit: Sophie Clements

How We Fall, Production shot, sound recording, Manchester, 2017. Image credit: Sophie Clements

How We Fall, Production shot, sound recording, Manchester, 2017. Image credit: Sophie Clements

How We Fall uses a technique made famous in The Matrix – I worked closely with technicians to figure out a bespoke filming system that allowed for sequential capture as well as the more typical ‘bullet-time’ shot. I did have slight trepidation of borrowing a technology so widely used in commercial film, but there’s something about using such a high-end cinematic setup to film clouds of cement dust that speaks to the absurdity of trying to control something so ephemeral. The combination also has an uncomfortable aspect that speaks to our experience of this kind of imagery in the media - the saturation, fetishisation and subsequent numbing of our reactions to it. The work was shown around the same time as the bombings of Aleppo, and the visual connection and potential problematics of making this from the safety of my western experience weren’t lost on me.  

There, After.  Production shot, filming setup, London, 2011.  Image credit: Katja Kulenkamff

There, After. Production shot, filming setup, London, 2011.
Image credit: Katja Kulenkamff

What are you working on currently?

My practice tends to swing between work that is shown in a live performance context to a large audience, and solo work (though often made with a team) that involves working on location - both of which are tricky right now. But the lockdown restrictions have given me the time to really scrutinise my practice, trying to understand what it is from a zoomed-out perspective.  I’m spending time drawing diagrams, researching, and doing small experiments in the studio that will hopefully form the basis of future work.

Other than that, I’m just starting a research project with choreographer Daniela Neugebauer, and am in the middle of two pieces for Hospital Rooms, an arts and mental health charity which commissions extraordinary art for mental health units. I also teach, and this term I start a new post as a visiting lecturer on the Information Experience Design course at the Royal College of Art.


What new aspects of science and technology are you interested to explore for future projects? 

When The Clouds Clear,  Performance Still, World Premiere, Mannheim, 2019.  Image credit: Sophie Clements

When The Clouds Clear, Performance Still, World Premiere, Mannheim, 2019. Image credit: Sophie Clements

The attempt to delay change is built into much of my work, and the materials I use are elemental ones activated by natural forces - water, fire, ice etc. I plan to explore the potential that provides for metaphorical connection to the fascinating and urgent research being done on climate change.  I’m also drawn to the intrepidness and hardship of research expeditions. I’ve been wanting to join an expedition to the Antarctic or the Arctic (such as the Cape Farewell project) for a long time. When I left my degree in science, I left because I didn’t want to spend my life in a lab. Yet, ironically, I think I would have been very happy as a scientist in the field, in extreme weather conditions and epic landscapes! 


Where can we find your work currently?  

My website http://www.sophieclements.com/ gives a comprehensive view of past projects, but right now my new work is in development or production - while other projects have been affected by the coronavirus. Last November, I premiered the major performance piece ‘When the Clouds Clear – A Light and Sound Poem’, with pianist Nik Bärtsch, but plans for follow-on national and international touring remain on hold.

 

Shall I This Time Hold You?, 2017.   Image credit: Sophie Clements

Shall I This Time Hold You?, 2017. Image credit: Sophie Clements

All images and videos courtesy of © 2020 Sophie Clements

Paul Carey-Kent