Gabriel Abrantes at Gasworks
Content warning: Very brief references to eugenics, racism, child loss, miscarriage, and abortion
Do short-form videos get a bad rap? I wouldn’t dare equate TikTok content to the work of Portuguese-American artist Gabriel Abrantes, but there are certainly similarities at play. The artist’s current solo show, Bardo Loops, is a curated selection of four video works, each under two and a half minutes long.
Whether the platform of choice is TikTok, YouTube shorts or Instagram reels, the tried and tested effect for creators is essentially the same: hook in the first two to three seconds to keep the audience engaged, then keep the video length as close to the minute mark as possible, so as to be eligible for earnings from the platform. I don’t know what flavour of dystopia we would call the world where thousands, if not millions, of people are quitting their jobs to essentially be gig economy workers for Big Tech in the form of influencing, but here we are.
Abrantes embraces the short-form in his work for this show at Gasworks in south London. Measuring the length of these videos in seconds may be a nod to the attention span of his audience, but cleverly, this format being associated with low culture has allowed the artist to inject a dark sense of humour to his practice. Scrolling now produces a combination of light-hearted content and both localised and globalised crises, depending on the user’s algorithm and what they engage with. Abrantes is fully cognisant of this, and the fusion of darkness and deeply emotional themes with the absurdity of his animated characters is oddly affecting.
While each video is under two and a half minutes long, they loop seamlessly, so the viewer might not realise that they are watching the same piece again, until they hear a familiar dialogue. There is no clear beginning and no clear ending to each video, and as such, the exhibition is incredibly slick and aesthetically sharp.
The central figures are, in themselves, fairly absurd: limbless, spectral figures draped in what appears to be bed sheets with holes punched out for eyes and mouths, and conversing in English-speaking human voices. They drift around different environments and terrains, which are disturbing and dystopian in their destructive aesthetic, but these moribund landscapes do not seem to disrupt the social scenarios taking place. Perhaps Abrantes is pointing towards a post-fear society where anxiety is a solely clinical condition that is the concern of Big Pharma and our communities or relationships. The result of over-exposure to traumatic material and experiences. In the video ‘Baby’, we see two sheeted figures arguing about the state of their relationship, with one figure demanding a child, and the other admitting to not being ready, despite the former having had three miscarriages. This is spoken about explicitly, in direct contrast with the playful context within which we would usually expect to see animated characters interact. There is much suspension of disbelief to be done in Bardo Loops, and it is rather disconcerting to hear animated floating bedsheets talk about miscarriage and abortion, especially whilst an ever-encroaching wildfire roars around them. The danger is imminent and relentless, yet the insularity of this particular relationship is that which engulfs this pair. This is not to say that their interpersonal struggles are not devastating and important, but the physical and emotional concerns seem to be pitted against each other, vying for the attention of our central characters.
The audio factor of the exhibition is curious, as the sounds emanating from each of the four videos overlap, regardless of where one is positioned in the gallery. This is potentially to create a stifling atmosphere within the space, and it does achieve this. Some may find concentration difficult, but this is where the loops of the respective videos prove useful, as one can sit with each video multiple times, given their short duration.
Endings are a significant theme in this body of work, punctuated not least by the lack of a real denouement in each video. If one sat in front of the screen waiting for a clear ending, they would be waiting until the exhibition closed. “I’m done” is said by characters in more than one video, and yet seconds later they are reunited, back in old habits, having the same conversations again and again, a purposeful and highly effective feature of Abrantes’ practice. In ‘Genetics’, two characters discuss DNA testing, with one arguing that it is a tool for racial purification and eugenics, and the other supporting it due to having a son with a genetic illness. Abrantes uses the role of ‘ghosts’ to illustrate loss, illness and emotional vulnerability, but they seem to have yet another meaning here, as the conversation feels closely akin to online spats with trolls or strangers, people we will neither know nor meet. Accusations are used without consideration for nuance or lived experience, which will feel very familiar at a time when many people are having to defend their presence in the world and the existence of their human rights. The conversation in ‘Genetics’ doesn’t “end” as such, but blends out into angry rage before the video loops back around.
It has already been established that serious themes emerge from this exhibition, and the content warnings of relationship trauma, eugenics, and child loss would make a very uncomfortable watch for many people, but it is easy to see how children would be drawn to Abrantes’ work by its visuals alone. This disconnect between aesthetics and content acts as an analogy of the ways in which people, including children, can be lured into inappropriate content online. Having this unfold in the material world is a curious feeling that can catch us off-guard.
“Bardo” is a term referring to the transitional phase between death and rebirth, and the destruction of settings in the artist’s work, including flooded Lisbon palaces and live fires in the woodlands, mirror this in themselves. The characters’ discussions are far from unique, recurring around the world, across cultures, nations, and borders, and yet the environmental collapse that is a second nature to these otherwise unconcerned characters is prevalent in our lives already. What “rebirth” means in our time of environmental degradation remains to be seen, but with the world’s first trillionaire being a Nazi-saluting Space Race agent, we are reminded that our collective energies are being lost to insular, divisive concerns, when the world around us is entirely at stake.
