Elisa Giardina Papa at the ICA
‘She Flickered in and Out of History’ is a small-scale solo
exhibition by New York and Sicily-based artist, Elisa Giardina Papa, at the ICA
in London. By small in scale, I refer to the fact that it is based in a single
room, which is unusual for shows at the ICA given the expanse of its stunning Grade
I listed architecture on The Mall in central London. Despite this, the
exhibition, which consists of a central video work accompanied by glass sculptures
positioned around the gallery, feels like a show that is creaking with intellectual
potential at its own seams. Giardina Papa’s research into an island off the
coast of Sicily and Tunisia which emerged as a direct result of a volcanic
eruption in 1831, only to disappear back underwater five months later, feels
both geologically alarming and politically provocative.
Prior to its disappearance, the states of Sicily and Tunisia
were battling over the territoriality and ownership of the island. A fight to
name, own, and dominate an island was then exposed as rather absurd by its
eventual ‘disappearance’. After all, which world leader is going to render
themselves a twenty-first century Caligula, waging war with the sea?
The ocean is a wild place and an even wilder non-place;
humans ultimately are at the mercy of this elemental force which has no
language, no patterns of behaviour to psychoanalyse. We often say that being
near the sea is a comfort, that it reminds us of the futility of the stresses
in our lives, and what it truly means to be alive, but the ocean can also
remind us of the unpredictability of absolutely everything, both man-made and ‘natural’.
But this is no nature or history documentary; a poetic
interpretation of the story flows through the video via a poem recited in
Sicilian, a language that staunchly defies the pulls of colonialism, a language
that, the artist says, is learned from mothers and aunts, and even for
Sicilians, has no use in public institutions and schools. A particular highlight
of the poem is accounts of observers from across the Mediterranean, North
Africa, the Middle East, Asia and the Caribbean, who reported seeing the sun in
hues of blue, green, and purple. This was due to volcanic particles migrating
across the atmosphere after the explosion. There is a slight science-fiction side
to how the film is received, partly due to how incomprehensible it is to
viewers without experience of neighbouring natural phenomena like volcanoes. To
some extent it feels that the artist leans into this mythologising, without the
subject matter becoming silly or trite.
There is a real sense of intrigue that permeates the film, which
transfers directly to the viewer, exacerbated by the immense world-building that
is generated by the incredible quality of the video. Its colours and the visual
punch of the footage feels not just crisp and immersive, but also expensive. Giardina
Papa explains in the accompanying written interview that she did not film what
remains of the island itself, despite diving eight metres below the surface of
the sea to witness it. She adds that she is inspired by the research of Ariella
Aisha Azoulay, who writes about the violence of forcing everything to be shown
and exhibited to the gaze. In adhering to this, the artist firmly turns away
from a documentary style, instead reaffirming the status of the artwork as
such. It remains highly informative, but aesthetically it is so beautiful and
rich that there can be no doubt that we are witnessing an artwork.
Alongside this idea of rejecting the need to document and share all evidence, the concept of rejecting a classifiable, traceable existence is also prevalent. Whilst it is rather poetic to almost anthropomorphise the sunken island (there’s a nod to this in the exhibition’s title), the timeline of it becoming submerged under the ocean after being hyper-politicised by both Sicilian and Tunisian authorities is amusing in its own way. It thus renders visible the flimsy foundations of political and colonial decision-making. While blood is constantly shed in the name of both, it is within reach to reject it all, however utopian that might seem. Objects, entities, and people can simply disappear and free themselves from us, unshackling themselves from our control. In times of a deeply anxious society, it may seem borderline obscene, but to what extent can the things around us simply cease to exist?
Do we have the right to opt-out of what we understand as
existing?
This could be considered both as a collective and individual struggle. Watching ‘She Flickered In and Out of History’, it is difficult to convey just how beautiful the video is to behold. The way the island was formed, the way ownership was fiercely debated between the two nations, and the way it returned to the ocean, are all depicted in a transfixing, almost hypnotic degree of sublime beauty in the video. The experience is short, at just over eighteen minutes long, but deeply informative, opening the viewer’s mind to both the material and geological possibilities of life on this planet, and indeed the stark visibility of these possibilities being taken away, and simply disappearing.
She Flickered In and Out of History, a solo exhibition by Elisa Giardina Papa. 17 July - 6 September 2026. ICA, London. ica.art
