Projected
on a screen big enough to make the viewer feel almost
physically present within the work, Infinite Melancholy, 2003, is a
continuous panning shot in which the camera seems to fly over a flat
white surface. The words CHRISTOPHER REEVE sometimes legible, sometimes
dissolving nto a blur as the camera appears to slow down and speed up
are printed over and over in endless rows on this otherwise featureless
plane. It's as if you were flying up the side of an infinitely tall
skyscraper in the arms of Superman while at the same time confronting
the fate of the actor who played him. A down-tempo piano sound track
undercuts the sense of exhilarating motion and heightensthe feeling
that there's a comment on American hubris in here somewhere... [read
more]
-Power
Ekroth
Excerpt from Critics Picks, Artforum.com, 20.05.2004