Cosmic Realism, a Retrospective of Verena Paravel and Lucien Castaing-Taylor’s Ethnographic Research That Gets Under Your Skin
Eye Museum, Amsterdam
Verena Paravel and Lucien Castaing-Taylor are innovators par excellence, mastering an aesthetic that challenges convention. They describe themselves as ‘recovering anthropologists’, shifting focus to work that is viscerally experienced rather than intellectually contemplated. Their stated aim is to ‘dethrone the visual’ positioning themselves at the intersection between ethnographic research, documentary and visual art. In this first major retrospective, the duo transform six pieces of their work at Amsterdam’s Eye Museum.
As I exit the exhibition and sit for our interview I feel decidedly queasy. I label this as sea-sickness brought on by Leviathan, arguably their most renowned film. Exploring the intricate relationship between man and sea, it offers a unique perspective shot through the eyes of the vessel, fisherman and sea-life itself. My nausea was intensified by De Humani Corporis Fabrica, a striking portrait of surgery patients filmed with pinhole cameras from within their bodies.
‘You make me feel sick,’ I say by way of introduction.
This was intended as both an honest ice-breaker and testament to the power of their work in making me feel thoroughly unmoored. Lucien’s eyes pierce me from across the small coffee table, communicating an intense intellect from deep within a Greek-God face framed by wild flowing hair.
Are you Poseidon? I consider. His face, one which could be etched onto an ancient coin.
Verena takes a puff on her vape.
‘We vomit a film every now and again,’ Lucien remarks in his empathic authoritative voice. ‘But you know, when you vomit, there's a reason why your body vomits something. It takes a toll on the body.’
When not purging trauma through the medium of film, the dynamic between the two is refreshingly light. Their wit and playful ribbing provide a welcome counterpoint to the themes they tackle.
‘Verena is a bon vivante and a bon raconteuse. She holds people spellbound the whole time. I don't have a narrative bone in my body, and the works that we make together are pretty non-narrative. That said, human beings are hardwired to be narrative storytelling people. We like beginnings, middles, ends, climaxes, and stuff. So, there are different kinds of narratives that you can read into these things, but we're not really privileging story per se.'
Their latest film, 'Humani Corporis Fabrica' (2022), takes its title from Andreas Vesalius's revolutionary 1543 anatomy books. It premiered in the directors' section at the Cannes Film Festival in 2023 and was adapted into an eight-screen installation for this exhibition. Each screen functions like a separate body part in a synchronised whole: one depicts internal body footage, another shows a patient undergoing brain surgery, a third features an autopsy, while another captures a mortician collecting the body of a homeless man. These varied segments operate simultaneously, creating a complex, living organism of film.
‘At some point in our lives, all of us are going to become patients. In those moments, we want the doctors to be gods. We can't face the idea of dying, so we repress it. We’re not trying to depict surgeons and doctors as gods. Our goal is to show them as they truly are, in their human reality.’
Abandoning the script leaves their works wildly open for interpretation. ‘People can come away with radically different interpretations based on their own biographical experience. Based on who they are, they'll see lots of different things in them.’
The works are a testimony to the personality of the makers. Curious about their collaborative process, I ask if they envisage their audience when making their films. A banter-filled exchange ensues in which Lucien translates the word ‘envisage’ into Verena’s native Swiss-French.
‘No, we don’t 'envisage' our audience,’ Paravel repeats the word, her accent colouring each syllable as she engages with the new term. ‘We prefer to start a movie without preconceptions. Obviously, after investing six years and all our energy, we’d prefer our film to be seen by more than just 300 people. But we don’t really create with that in mind. What is paramount is that the people we film feel they are represented and they recognise themselves.’
A commitment to non-judgmental representation extends into all areas of exploration, no matter how taboo. This is most profoundly apparent in 'Caniba’, the work exploring the notion of desire through human cannibalism. The making of this film involved spending six-week in a confined space with the Japanese cannibal Issei Sagawa and his brother Jun and according to Castain-Taylor, ‘proved more taxing than the physical rigours of shooting 'Leviathan' aboard a ship for a similar duration’.
Lucien Castaing-Taylor, the founder and director of Harvard University's Sensory Ethnography Lab (SEL), and Verena Paravel, an anthropologist, artist, and filmmaker, have carved a niche in the world of visual anthropology. Their distinctive works have been featured in permanent exhibitions at prestigious institutions such as MoMA in NYC, Tate Modern, the Whitney Biennial, and documenta 14.
The title of the exhibition, Cosmic Realism, stems from a conversation with botanical philosopher Emanuelle Coccia, who is working on a monograph of their films. It captures the essence well. ‘So much is being written today about the idea that everything is culturally constructed, that there is no such thing as reality anymore and we can’t get past representation. That all we have is simulacrum or alternative facts. But I think our work is really attached to the real. We really think the primacy of the real is super important.’
My final question, hoping to trigger their anthropological mindset, is: Who is the most interesting person you know? Verena answers, ‘My shrink refused to be in my next film, so I replaced her with a donkey. He’s the most intelligent donkey of the group. He’s really an amazing donkey.’
Cosmic Realism runs until May at The Eye Museum, Amsterdam.