I caught her exhibition at Whitechapel Gallery last week. Felt like I had read the equivalent of a novella by the time I left - so much text, part of the art, but not actually written by her. In fact, got overwhelmed with reading and will return to read/see(?) the remaining project. The main piece downstairs was 'Take Care of Yourself', Calle's attempt to exhaust every last possible drop of meaning in a break-up letter which ends with the project title. In order to do this, she instructs 107 professional women - among them, a Latinist, a judge, a criminologist - to interpret the letter in line with their professional knowledge. On a superficial level, reminded me of some great chorus of women going 'He's a bastard!' but on the other hand the more removed the letter became from the original, the less emotional power it seemed to have. I guess the different interpretations are the 'objects' in the exhibition, literally in the form of letters to Calle - a multiplication of the letter dispells its uniqueness and its power to injure? Also, perhaps the emotional labour of interpreting such letters is counterbalanced by the actual 'labour' that the women do in their respective professions every day? So it kind of reverses the gender power-relations inherent in the original break-up letter, where the man professes he can't have a sexual relationship with Calle without turning her into one of 'the others', the fourth girlfriend.
Calle seems to have a talismanic relationship to objects in her work - in one of her works (not exhibited) she exhibited display cabinets of birthday gifts given to her by guests at her annual birthday party, where she invites as many guests as her age - with an additional stranger, to mark the unknown year ahead. Most of the projects shown centre on an object and how people use those objects to understand other people- a found diary, the break-up letter, and a bed.
Anyway, I really liked the work, even though I don't really know where I would place Sophie Calle in what little I know about art. She reminded me of Miranda July but darker for her obsessive nature.
2. Jennifer's Body
Can't decide whether this was good or bad, but Diablo Cody really needs to learn something about feminism if she thinks this is a "feminist" film. The message seemed to be if you have sex and accidentally get mistaken for a potential sacrificial virgin, you will invoke the powers of hell and turn into a vampire. Therefore, don't do the sex. If you do the sex, make sure it is with your boyfriend that you're going 'steady' with, though if you watch this film, ignore the visual link between sex, and instant death. Otherwise, it was entertaining, at least for its comment on the weird friendship between the two female central characters, which didn't really get explored, apart from providing - unexpectedly - some of the solution for the film's end.
