I steamed through the north lanes and was slightly out of breath on arrival at Fusebox. I sat in with the video installation. My breathing quickly slowed right down- there is something of the meditative in Robins work. It lulls you into the present.
The cinematic fading into brilliant white, which I'm later told is grey (reminding me of my flawed perception), also brought to mind the Buddhist notion of nirvana- merging into Brahma. The liberation of surgical equipment! I also enjoyed the painterly aspect to the stills as they dissolve and emerge in a textured, abstract dance- a stunning play on the transient.
My friend, Richard, commented on the strangeness of surgical stills, featuring blood, plastic gloves and tools, set against lively bird song. Having other appointments he couldn't stick around for the woods and greenery. He also thought the photograph of a chopping board was a chopping board.
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