B.

When the Boyd Webb exhibition was first proposed the curator, Jenny Harper, entitled it Unruly Truths: The Art of Boyd Webb. Those two words 'unruly' and 'truth' together perfectly capture both the enigmatic, uncomfortable, and challenging qualities of Webb's images, and the veracity of his chosen medium, photography. The unruly quality of Webb's art is evident from his earliest works. He trained in sculpture at the University of Canterbury's Fine Arts department, discovering there that photography proved an ideal way of recording conceptual tableaux and arranged events. His degree show was an interesting event. The works he produced were unseen by staff until the day of opening. He locked the work in a filing cabinet in his 'office' and it could be viewed only by making an appointment with a secretary he had hired for the day. At Glasgow Art School around the same time that Webb was studying at the University of Canterbury I recall one lecturer's favourite utterance was, 'The students are revolting!' Notwithstanding the humourously cynical double-entendre, and despite Boyd Webb's perceived sense of distance from revolutionary developments in art at that time (minimalism, post-minimalism and conceptual art, with its many modes of practice), it appears that Marshall McLuhan's global culture was already (in that distant pre-Internet era) well enough developed to produce a ripple-effect of change almost simultaneously on both sides of the world.

His images, as 'truths', as recordings of actual events, are pristine. To view him as a photographer, however, makes as much sense as describing Rauschenberg as a printmaker. His technical mastery of photography allows him to create works which the viewer must accept as real. The images themselves are unquestionably works of art, more readily associated with surrealism, for example, than any accepted photographic genre. Reviewing the exhibition in Art New Zealand, Louise Garrett comments that she overheard a fellow viewer say, 'These are really very good paintings.' It is not difficult to imagine that some might more readily accept these works as photorealist in affiliation, rather than simply photographic.

Webb's preoccupation with space is readily understandable, in view of his training as a sculptor, yet it transcends the expected, creating a sensation simultaneously of familiarity and strangeness. Where he uses the human figure, for example, we are reminded of the sculptures of Duane Hanson, frozen in action, rather than merely immobilised by the camera shutter. He tests the viewer with renderings of the human condition, the planetary condition, which are understandable at an intuitive level, yet, because of the medium, demand further, often puzzling, enquiry.

There is a strong sense in many of the works of apocalyptic warning of humanity's relationship with the environment. In works like Mezzanine the message is transparent. Other works, like Nemesis or Replenish appear almost to be toolkits for the survival of man and planet, for Webb is no mere observer in our modern plight. He presents, in many cases, not only the problem but the sense of a solution.

In works like Agar and Celeste the quasi-scientific nature of the image is immediately perceivable. Paradoxically, however, the work manages to depict both inner, outer and acquit space the macroscopic and microscopic. Webb is quick to admit that he has no more than a layman's appreciation of science. His response in creation is speculative and intuitive, and the viewer will be rewarded by examining them in the same spirit. The lover of science fiction will have no difficulty in appreciating these works allow the imagination free reign and on no account attempt to apply the rigour of empirical process.

'I have tried to make work on the scale of domestic doors, hoping the viewer could metaphorically walk into the picture, be sucked in and not notice the edges.'

The sheer size of most of the works create an impact which is seldom experienced in photographic exhibitions. The effect is, as Webb intends, to envelope the viewer in the world he has created. They may appear as portals to parallel universes, where the objects are recognisable, but their context and behaviours are seemingly impossible. In works like Abyssogramme connections between different dimensions are explored, while in others, like Kibbutz, an entirely novel physical reality is created.

While the scale of Webb's works is impressive, the sheer vision of his achievement is almost miraculous. His creations are theatrical, cinemascopic, in nature. His visions call to mind the fantastic worlds of films like Kubrick's 2001, A Space Odyssey, or Vincent Ward's What Dreams May Come, or Fellini's fantasies. His works convey the sensation that they've been not merely created, but directed down to the last detail. If there are serendipitous outcomes we are not aware of them. The worlds Webb creates are not of magical origin nothing is hidden or misrepresented, but the overall effect is magical. The ship in Renounce will never sail, but through Webb's orchestration of light, colour, texture and object, and his technical mastery of the medium, it will never matter. In the reality he leads us to accept, it is simply irrelevant.

Ronnie Kelly

This exhibition was held at the Robert McDougall Art Gallery in the Botanic Gardens.