Sylvia Grace Borda’s Aerial Fields: The Apparatus, Labour and Territories of Agri/Cultural Production
My good friend Sylvia Grace Borda approached me nearly a year ago with a request to write an essay about a video installation she had made back in 2013 for the Surrey Art Gallery's UrbanScreen. The gallery has requested a pared back version for the screen's publication series, so I am posting the original completed draft here before performing major surgery on it to meet the gallery's needs. Hopefully someday a revised version of this full text will be published by them later, but in case not, here it is.
- Paula
Blair
Like
the produce it depicts, Aerial
Fields (2013)
by Sylvia Grace Borda was cultivated on British Columbian farmland
and brought to the city for consumption. Largely presented in a
double split-screen format, it depicts agricultural tools, work and
spaces from aerial views recorded by a camera-mounted drone. Its
summery images of cultivation and harvest were projected on Surrey
Art Gallery’s UrbanScreen from 21 September 2013 to 19 January
2014, that is, during winter when the land becomes unworkable, and,
as Liz Wells points out, ‘at a time of day when, in actuality the
area would be dark and thus imperceptible’, creating for spectators
‘a dreamlike distance’ from the scenes (2017). The screening’s
outdoor urban location and the geography of Surrey, a city near the
featured land just south of the Fraser River and a little north of
Canada’s border with the USA, bore further significance. Rather
than adding to urban infringement on rural space by containing the
projection indoors, the installation’s large, outdoor display of
normally unseen sites and processes of production allowed rural space
to claim back a little territory. The Chuck Bailey Recreation Centre
which is home to UrbanScreen is, after all, built on reclaimed land
in a city whose charter of sustainability includes agricultural land
reserves, the social imaginary of which was visualized by the
installation’s performative positioning of rural space and
agriculture in this specific place.
Made
during her residency at Surrey in 2013, Aerial
Fields
is one of five works contributing to Borda’s This
One’s for the Farmer project
which foregrounds largely unseen agricultural practices, labour and
spaces both as part of society and as art subjects. Its images show
tensions and slippages in the boundaries between the rural and urban
and the organic and technological in ways that invite consideration
of issues affecting contemporary farming in the province. This
disjunctive convergence of rural and urban was enhanced during the
screening by the spontaneous sound design involving live audio
generated unawares by spectators, passersby, traffic and the ambient
soundscape of the surrounds. The warm, daytime, but silent rural
images were projected against cold night sky and urban sounds. Such
live contingencies made the exhibited work unique with every play
while offering space to notice and reflect upon further tensions
between individualism, humancentric impositions on the landscape and
collective responsibility evoked by the video.
As
well as marking the disjunction between the rural and urban, the
temporal disruption brought to bear by the installation calls to mind
global increases in year-round, non-seasonal, industrial-scale food
production that places further pressure on farmland and
organic/mechanized workforces. To redress this and make the city
environmentally sustainable, Surrey encourages urban agriculture to
reduce the reliance on food transport and to support local food
processing agribusiness. This, and related schemes outlined in the
city’s sustainability charter first released in 2008, became
necessary as it emerged that Surrey is Canada’s fastest-growing
city with projections estimating that its population will outgrow
British Columbia’s capital, Vancouver, by 2030. This
One’s for the Farmer acknowledges
the strain that agricultural apparatuses, labourers and territories
are under to sustain this growing population as well as themselves,
and in various ways allows viewers space and time to pause, view and
consider the implications of these issues. As visual arts practices
facilitated by Google Street View and drone technologies, the work
furthers inquiry into the philosophies, politics, apparatuses,
processes of and shifts in contemporary moving image production more
broadly. In the following analysis of Aerial
Fields,
I tease out some of that inquiry while situating Borda’s work in
thought concerning humanity’s increasing unity and co-dependence
with advancing technologies that made the video such
a
prescient and important inclusion in the UrbanScreen programme.
Ways of seeing and being seen
Borda
is no stranger to technologies that facilitate ways of seeing and
monitoring the activities of others. Prior to her residency in
Surrey, she lived and worked in Northern Ireland, a region
transitioning from three decades of political conflict in the late
twentieth century. At the root of centuries-old tensions in the
northernmost Irish province of Ulster (consisting of the six counties
of Northern Ireland and three in the Irish Republic) are religion and
territory. Although officially now in peacetime – a precarious,
fragile peace – further tensions around inequality, truth and
conflict resolution persist. When Borda taught at Queen’s
University Belfast in 2007–9 and during the subsequent years when
her practice was shaped by observations she made about lesser noticed
aspects of the area, Northern Ireland’s devolved consociational
government appeared to be going reasonably well. This has since
broken down and, in 2019, Northern Ireland is cast adrift amid border
wars erupting from the UK’s attempts to leave the European Union.
In 2012, though, Borda fittingly examined power-sharing by observing
the similarities and blurring distinctions between places of worship.
CHURCHES:
Coming to the table
installed in Belfast Exposed in early 2012 consisted of documentary
photography of churches of undisclosed denominations that Borda
observed as exhibiting characteristics of modernist architecture
printed onto a series of ceramic plates laid out on a long dining
table. However, it is Borda’s unexhibited Orchards:
Bramley apples series
(2010–12) documenting the labour and processes of orchard growers
in Counties Down and Armagh that turned out to be the preparatory
work for This
One’s for the Farmer.
The
Orchards
and
Churches
series were influenced by the strong tradition of documentary and
journalistic photography in Northern Ireland so vital in confronting
issues around perspective and truth underpinned by the psychological
impact of intensive surveillance during and post-conflict. From the
list of prominent artists’ names including Victor Sloan, John
Duncan, Donovan Wylie, Willie Doherty and Paul Seawright, you would
not be mistaken for believing this to be a predominantly male
enterprise. There are of course women photographers, but rather than
being observational, the work of Mary McIntyre, Susan MacWilliam and
Emma Campbell, for example, is more performative, symbolic and
creates or recreates narratives. The staging involved in their work
bears similarities with the posing necessitated in Borda’s Google
Street View collaboration with John M. Lynch, Farm
Tableaux (2013–15).
Combining the observational and performative approaches to
photography so prevalent in Northern Ireland which both aim to mine
out and depict some sort of truth, making Farm
Tableaux
and its continuation, Mise
en Scene: Farm Tableaux Finland
(2015), involved staging scenarios depicting everyday acts of
agricultural labour. As Wells points out, ‘[t]he project reminds us
of the economic centrality of labor and the harshness of work
conditions even despite mechanization’ (2017). Mixing landscape and
portraiture, the 360-degree images also require the viewers’ active
integration with technology to browse and operate the images produced
with technologies that, like drones, have evolved from
twentieth-century military surveillance devices that satisfy the
desire to observe that which cannot otherwise be seen with human
vision.
In
her seminal essay ‘A Cyborg Manifesto’ that draws together
feminism and technology, cultural theorist Donna Haraway identifies
‘the relation between organism and machine’ as a ‘border war’,
the stakes of which are ‘territories of production, reproduction
and imagination’ (1991: 292). Through its production with drone
technology and its subject matter of mechanized agriculture, Borda’s
Aerial
Fields
video installation demonstrates some of the ways such
organism/machine border wars have not only increased in volume and
complexity, but their boundaries, particularly when it comes to
labour, are becoming more indistinct in the early twenty-first
century. For example, the drone whose original incarnations in the
early twentieth century were emergent technologies for warfare, now
can assist and determine art production such as this work by Borda,
while the images produced show that despite the increased
mechanization of farming, much work still must be completed by hand –
and whose hands those are often involves another kind of
border-crossing. The implications of organic and mechanical labour
are discussed after first considering the technologies and
apparatuses central to Aerial
Fields.
Technology and Apparatus
Given
its increasing social uses in geo-mapping, recreation, retail
delivery, climate monitoring and creative enterprises, the drone’s
identity and function as a machine of death and destruction operated
from a control room half the world away is diminishing. More formally
known as unmanned aerial vehicles, drones join a lineage of devices
developed for military use that have been appropriated by
image-making practitioners to facilitate innovations in moving image
production. Following developments since they first emerged towards
the end of the First World War, in the 1960s drones were deployed by
the US army on a large scale and performed a variety of functions in
Vietnam, including reconnaissance and missile strikes, both of
which require integration with imaging hardware. For the same
conflict, the US army developed portable video equipment to
facilitate surveillance – a medium initially developed in the early
twentieth century for what became television broadcasting (Elwes
2005: 3). While handheld camcorders were quickly adopted by artists
and domestic users, drones, although commercially available today,
still have not reached the ubiquitous ownership as commodity items,
or indeed as tools in creative practice, as video cameras. Although
many of us own phones capable of producing good-quality images, few
of us possess the training, skills and wherewithal to obtain the
legal permissions necessary to control a remotely piloted aircraft.
Nevertheless, drones join video as a militarily advanced technology
that has been appropriated by creative individuals and industries,
resulting in expanding the boundaries of image-making practices and
aesthetics. Camera-mounted drones can, after all, produce less costly
and potentially safer and more dynamic aerial shots for film and
television.
In
adopting the drone as image-making apparatus, not only has Borda
incorporated herself with technologies developed for military
surveillance, violence and social control for use as creative tools,
she employs them to experiment with different and innovative ways of
seeing, understanding and working with agriculture – another
patriarchal system shaping the Anthropocene. As a woman, both
filmmaking and farming are industries to which Borda’s presence is
typically peripheral. In recording the farm’s activities from very
high and very low levels – at times shown simultaneously in digital
diptych in the finished video – Borda’s presence as artist feels
at once marginal and all-seeing. It is this marginality that enables
observations of otherwise unseen and unnoticed details in the micro
and macro levels of the farm’s operations.
Borda’s
re-envisioning of farming processes in Aerial
Fields,
including the use of technology in conjunction with the codes of
nature, relies on and is determined by mechanized, disembodied
vision. The subject is not seen from the artist-documenter’s
embodied point of view, but rather the views it records are distant
from human vision. In the finished edit, often appearing next to
high, wide, dynamic, deep-focus images of fields, the work carried
out on the farm and surrounding areas, are close, shallow-focus shots
filmed with a static camera placed at a low level capturing, for
instance, individual stems blowing in the breeze and the labour of
drones of the arthropod kind depended upon for the pollination and
propagation of crops and natural flora. Both types of shot capture
images beyond the capacity of unassisted, unmediated human vision and
so give access to alternative ways of seeing aspects of everyday farm
life that are usually unnoticed or taken for granted.
The
control the artist can exert over what appears in the frame in the
aerial shots to capture such details is contingent on factors such as
weather, permitted jurisdictions, the device’s battery life and its
range capabilities. Given its remote-control tether, the drone
similarly lacks autonomy but is not as regimented as the methodical,
programmed workings of the harvesting and bailing vehicles shown in
the video. Although it is not directly incorporated with the body, it
provides a wireless extension of the artist’s eyes through her
remote-control piloting actions. Vision and contact are both
mediated; the control is embodied with signals sent to the drone,
while the view the drone captures is distant. In an abstract sense,
then, the drone is cyborg technology interdependent with its
human-organic operator. It is an extension of the artist as active
agent, while also at the mercy of weather, natural lighting and
climate conditions, legal restrictions (such as airspace and
proximity to the US border) and technological limitation (the small
model used is low-altitude). The type of camera used further affects
the image and point of view. Although the recorded images are realist
observation, given the necessity of a wide-angle lens on a small,
relatively cheap camera (due to the practicalities of cost and
potential for damage), the appearance of the expanse within the frame
is inevitably distorted in terms of shape, size and waving pixilation
during recording. What is produced is a unique version of the scene
as it was through this view determined by the many practical factors
involved in digital image capture – the product of the device’s
labour.
Labour
In
addition to technological experimentation with drone-facilitated
image capture, Borda’s work centres what is usually peripheral in
two main ways: 1) as a woman pilot, Borda disrupts the perception
that such practice is men’s work, and 2) the content of the videos
she makes using drones de-centres urban imagery of modernity,
focusing on the activities and results of industrialized farm labour
and crop cultivation, all while the farms are increasingly encroached
upon by suburban sprawl. The camera mounted on the drone grants Borda
the opportunity to re-envision both gender binarism and agricultural
uses of the land and how these are viewed. As it tracks the farm’s
labour and methods of cultivation and harvesting, its roving frame as
an indicator of unseen but present operation also creates a record of
the equivalent labour and cultivation methods in this mode of visual
art production. In both cases, the means of production are to an
extent revealed.
While
the drone is remote as Borda guides it, the machine usually remains
within her view from the ground, which is a further difference from
distanced military uses that bear more similarities with gaming
(implying entertainment rather than work). Importantly, what the
camera captures is not live-mediated for her via a desensitizing
screen at ground level the way it is in military action or
high-budget media production. Due to this limited vision, Borda must
imagine the frame’s content while filming/flying, and then edit
with the captured footage, which has been done in ways that reveal
connected micro and macro farming narratives. From the uncertainty
that comes with employing drones in filming emerges creativity and
the blurring of distinctions between artist and apparatus. This
convergence is further marked by the lack of explanatory text or
voice, which distances Aerial
Fields from
traditional observational documentaries which tend to employ an
authoritative narration that often condescends the featured
labourers. Instead there is an equality between the people and
machines involved. They become collaborators in the labour of
cultural production, mirroring as well as documenting the cooperative
efforts between animals, humans, plant life and machines in the
production of food for human consumption as suburban sprawl
encroaches on their territories of production, reproduction and
imagination.
Territories
In
the approach to video-capture undertaken by Borda for Aerial
Fields,
the drone’s flight and the camera’s wide-angle lens maximize what
is contained within the frame and draw attention to the off-screen
space beyond the image as its boundaries shift with the drone’s
flying, hovering and swivelling movements. Every aspect of such shots
appears in the same focus, and although it compresses the detail in
the images, the wide lens bulges distant objects into an arc,
generating a distorted sense of depth as if the landscape is being
condensed and squeezed forward at the same time. In a sense, this is
precisely what is being depicted; the workings and appearance of the
farms are being pushed into alignment with the technological curve to
continue operating. The mechanized view of the farmland and buildings
as well as the nearby woodland and bordering housing developments
illustrates the forced squeezing and shaping exerted by the external
economic agents to which they are all bound.
In
addition to the three divergent uses of the land vying for territory
emerging in the images are co-existing differences in natural and
human-constructed aspects of the landscape such as ponds and river
tributaries near the woodlands in contrast with irrigation and
drainage ditches dividing one sort of crop from another. Aerial
Fields
also draws attention to the differences between manufactured box
beehives at the edges of fields and natural honeycombs spied through
foliage. The latter shot appears to the right of aerial views of farm
buildings, thereby drawing a relationship between the bees’ dual
habitat-workspaces and those of the farm’s human and mechanical
labourers. The labour and workers of all kinds are not intruded upon
as the drone allows enough distance to avoid invading workspaces or
provoke much distraction or self-consciousness, unlike a handheld
camera necessitating the combination of operator and machine being
near the subject or even each other. With so much machinery already
in use on the farm, it is worth wondering how much notice was taken
of one more device going about its business in its airspace
territory.
As
well as production and reproduction, Aerial
Fields makes
visible the farm’s territories of imagination to which consumers
and audiences are not typically privy. At just under halfway through
the 33-minute sequence, a high-angle shot shown in full-screen tracks
over a canal dividing two fields with houses discernible through the
trees on the arched horizon. As the drone flies, the tracking shot it
makes reveals a visual pun as it becomes apparent that the shapes
moving along the righthand side of the frame form part of a maize
maze. As the drone nears the Fraser River, beyond which are more
fields flanked by housing in the distance, the maze goes largely out
of sight, only edging in at the bottom-right corner as the drone
steadies, hovers and pivots. In conventional framing, such details
glimpsed in the margins would typically lack importance, but in a
work that transcends production conventions, this invitation to
witness and register that which emerges in peripheral vision
generates value and meaning. It is also, of course, contingent on
flight conditions. The maze is clearly as much a product of
mechanical engineering combined with design and organization as every
row of crops that make up the shapes of the fields and farms, not in
a way dissimilar to the pixels in the digital video images of them.
Indeed, the maze reflects the shapes and lines of a circuit board;
the farms are part of the circuitry of human life.
In
the screening, the fields were further technologized by the
UrbanScreen IMAX projection literally and figuratively stretching
their boundaries even more. It is rare enough that video art and
landscape art should receive the IMAX treatment, but that banal,
everyday aspects of farming should too is notable given that IMAX is
largely synonymous with mainstream cinematic spectacle. Like the city
of Surrey, the gallery too bucks a global trend by supporting,
sustaining and promoting artists through the UrbanScreen scheme that
grants them a level of visibility and public spectacle normally only
afforded to cinema blockbusters. By showing Borda’s Aerial
Fields in
this way, the gallery in tandem with the city demonstrated the
necessary work of re-centralizing farming in culture.
Interventional Agri/Cultural Produce
In
its appearance in Aerial
Fields,
the maze provides an example of mise
en abyme;
it is an artwork within an artwork with something to say to and about
the outer project. The shots capturing such explicit traces of human
interventions on the landscape resist the pastoral romanticism or the
sublime so often typical to landscape art that has historically
denied the existence of the labouring classes and industrial uses and
shaping of the land that keep populations fed. Glimpsed in the
frame’s margins, the maze also resists being romanticized while it
can be appreciated from above as an aesthetic product of
industrialized labour. It is positioned alongside the labour that
created it and the housing developments putting pressure on that
labour. The distorted but informative image shot with an unmanned
flying device defamiliarizes human vision; it is an unemotional
drone’s eye view rather than that of a human awed by the landscape,
as tends to be conveyed in pastoral art. From the partial view of
around fifteen metres above ground, the impression of the maze
epitomizes the visual paradox that farmland exudes to many urban
consumers; it is outside and largely green, and so it must be
natural. It is, in fact, nature controlled, manipulated and put to
work. In redressing the exclusion of industrial agriculture in visual
art, Aerial
Fields responds
to an urgent need for society more broadly to acknowledge, understand
and engage with agricultural practices and their sustainability.
As
Haraway observes, we are beyond returning to what was ‘natural’.
Aerial
Fields helps
us probe modern and contemporary notions of what it is to be natural.
This inquiry begins in challenging the urban ideal that the
countryside housing supposedly brings to ‘nature’. The closeness
of the housing to the crops shown in the video visualizes the lack of
– and evidences a need for – green belt legislation. Where the
codes of nature have been technologized, industrialized and turned
into capital beyond the point of no return, there is a need to
preserve and protect what resources remain. With the help of
interventional art projects such as Aerial
Fields and
This
One’s for the Farmer
providing visual evidence and a talking point around different ways
of seeing that evidence, the public have an opportunity to become
more aware of the local, regional, national and global implications
of the intensification of farming and sub/urban sprawl to meet the
needs of rising populations. Each having to jostle with the other for
the space needed to produce and reproduce cannot be sustained in the
long term, and there remains urgent need for territories of
imagination – such as UrbanScreen showing Borda’s works – to
facilitate dialogue.
References
City
of Surrey Planning & Development Department (2008), The
City of Surrey’s Sustainability Charter, 6950-30,
Surrey, B. C.: City of Surrey Marketing & Communications,
https://www.surrey.ca/bylawsandcouncillibrary/R175-0F09.pdf. Accessed
19 March 2019.
Elwes,
Catherine (2005), Video
Art, A Guided Tour,
London: I. B. Tauris.
Haraway,
Donna (1991), Simians,
Cyborgs and Women: The Reinvention of Nature.
Routledge.
Imperial
War Museum (2018), ‘A Brief History of Drones’,
https://www.iwm.org.uk/history/a-brief-history-of-drones. Accessed 9
October 2018.
Sylvia
Grace Borda Official Website, ‘Orchards:
Bramley apples’,
http://www.sylviagborda.com/orchards.html.
Accessed 19 March 2019.
Wells,
Liz (2017), ‘Shifting Perspective: Sylvia Grace Borda’s Aerial
Fields’.
Unpublished essay.
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