Sean Rogg: WOLF ram at 5 Cromwell Place

Sean Rogg: WOLF ram at 5 Cromwell Place

24 November, 2008
by: SUSIE

Sean Rogg's film installation, WOLF ram is the first off-site work organised by Spring Projects, and what an off-site it is: 5 Cromwell Place is not only a wonderfully atmospheric place for an exhibition (or a party) but is also a former artist's studio and just a hop-and-a-skip from 7 Cromwell Place, which (for those of you who haven't just read the recently updated edition of Michael Peppiatt's brilliant biography) was none other than Francis Bacon's old studio. And there's nothing like the lingering ghost of an enigmatic genius to make a private view go with a swing.
 
WOLF ram takes inspiration from Graham Greene's 1954 short story, The Destructors (a book which, I am ashamed to say, I only know of thanks to the film, Donnie Darko). But it seems worthwhile to reprint an extract from the story here, taken from the press blurb:

'We'd do it from the inside. I've found a way in. We'd be like worms, don't you see, in an apple. When we came out again there'd be nothing there – nothing but just walls, and then we'd make the walls fall down somehow.'

From prior research I was aware that WOLF ram was informed by a previous film by Rogg (Into The Wood shown at The Wapping Project, 2006) which documents the burning of a Swedish home as punishment for a serious juvenile crime. With this in mind, I was rendered a touch nervous when, upon entry, I was asked to sign a disclaimer. Having failed to read the small print, I'll guess that this, in fact, related more directly to the disused building: a rustic space with a creative history, creaky floorboards, appealing peeling paint and glowing heaters nestled in the fireplaces. Fire and wood leads us nicely onto the film itself.

We're invited upstairs (it's essential to see this compelling film from the very beginning) into a dark room, and settle on the floor for the 20-minute duration. In a Friggebod, two children (a girl and a boy, both Scandinavian, scrubbed clean and very blond) sit opposite each other at the table, looking for all the world like two pre-Maria Von Trapps (you know, before they starting singing and wearing curtains). There is a blank, stony expression on their faces which never shifts. The destruction starts small, with bread squashing and egg cracking, but soon they evolve to tools, and things escalate.

Some acts are sweeping and bold, while others are more beautifully and simply subversive, like the careful and deliberate bending back of the arms on a clock face. It is described as a multi-sensory work and the soundtrack plays an important role in building an eerie tension and a violent climax; each sound is amplified, almost hyper-real.

There is no perceivable joy in their actions, but there is thought and decision before each swing, and then a certain satisfaction with a job well done. Analogies for the artist and the creative act abound. Their movements are obviously pre-designed and contrived. They work as individuals but towards a common goal. One watches as the other performs. They never turn on each other, as though they are fighting something bigger than the two of them.

Eventually the girl grabs a bottle of whisky and some matches and they leave the cabin. In the howling wind they 'make the walls fall down'. The fire is mesmerising as is the effect of the wind on it. Eventually the entire building is reduced to a smouldering snap and crackle  to say it 'dies down' would be an interesting choice of phrase based on the preceding violence.

The duo kick a few remains into the fire and walk side-by-side into the surrounding woods. There is no suggestion of repercussion, nor of motivation. Merely that this was an inevitable and important act. It is very freeing. There is a sense that they are returning to nature, and even the violence itself is very alluring. I find myself thinking that it looked so easy, and imagining what it would be like to enact that kind of extreme destruction myself. Good thing we've all signed the disclaimer.

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