Joanna Hogg’s “Exhibiton,” which opens June 20 at the Film Society of Lincoln Center, is a ghost story without a ghost. A married couple, mysteriously named “H” and “D” (played by the artist Liam Gilick and Viv Albertine, former frontwoman of seminal punk band the Slits), are two artists who live and work in a beautifully arranged post-modern abode smack in the middle of London. They’ve lived there for years and each has carved out their own little area within the space, often communicating through an intercom system. One half of the couple is a more renowned artist than the other, and the imbalance, though never spoken, is felt.
The film is a dreamlike portrait of their final days in the house before selling it, as they deal with the memories that are embedded in the walls and in danger of disappearing. The architect James Melvin, who was friendly with Hogg during the later years of his life, designed the house with its spiraling stairs and rooms within rooms — a perfect space for the quiet drama of a marriage to unfold.
The film pushes certain stylistic elements — most notably the sound design — to extremes. In a recent conversation with ARTINFO, Hogg discussed the film and her working methods, and mentioned that many people have remarked that “Exhibition” could exist in some way in a gallery or museum setting, an idea that has been rattling around in her head for the future.
When talking to writers and directors, I’m always interested in the moment of creation. Where do you begin?
I think so far it’s been a place; a particular place that’s made an impression on me, usually somewhere I’ve known for a long time with memories attached and lots of associations. Certainly that was the case with the first two films, “Unrelated” and “Archipelago.” “Exhibition” was a little different. I also knew the house but I didn’t have those memories and those feelings attached to it, except that it made a big impression on me.
How was your approach to the film different, not having those same memories or feelings attached to the space?
As you were asking that I was thinking, “Maybe I don’t approach the space any differently.” I tend to not see these places as locations in a way. I don’t have any distance between myself and the places where I film; they somehow connect very deeply for me. The house in “Exhibition,” when I first encountered it, it struck me very strongly as this perfect post-modernist doll’s house, and I, at the same time, had been developing a story about a married couple that had been together a long time who were both artists. Somehow, placing these two characters into this perfect cube seemed the right thing to do.
What particularly made you feel so strongly about this house?
I really like the big glass windows and that you can look out into the garden or the street, but see the interior of the house reflected in a way more than what you were looking at outside — this tension between the inside and the outside. That made me think about ghosts, it made me think about memories, and all those ideas became part of the texture of the film.
Watching “Exhibition” again recently, I was struck by the way the house provides a very interesting visual motif of frames. Rooms open up into different rooms, and with the big glass windows you’re often shooting frames within frames. It reminded me of certain scenes in “Unrelated” and “Archipelago” as well, highlighting, as you said, “the tension between the inside and outside.”
I think it’s something that’s very instinctive. I’ve taken photographs for many years — I was a photographer before I was a filmmaker — and I think even my photographs back in the early 1980s reflected my interest in a certain kind of symmetry and interest in depth. There is something when you frame a kind of doorway within a doorway, or looking down a corridor, you’re getting a certain depth that I find very satisfying.
What was it about Viv Albertine and Liam Gillick, who have very distinct public personalities, that made you want to have them in this film? Is the casting process instinctual?
I suppose it’s too easy to write it off as just instinct but it has so much to do with that. I had been looking for a long time — I met lots of actors, non-actors, artists, dancers, real-life couples. No one excited me; no one felt right for this couple. What I realized when I found Viv and Liam, what I had been looking for was a couple that somehow represented different characteristics. I was interested in the husband being more rational, intellectual, a logical thinking person, and the wife being instinctive, emotional. They represented these different sides and those aspects were perfectly embodied within Liam and Viv. In the document, my version of the screenplay that I write, I had written H and D as these two very different characters, so they were perfect for that. I was also excited that neither of them had been on screen before. They were both new to cinema. Somehow they’re completely new and seem completely real on some level, but it’s also about choosing people whose own selves can be reflected in their character. They’re pouring some of their selves into the story.
Not just their selves, but did Liam and Viv’s work influence your conception of their characters?
Having cast Liam partly because of the work he does and thinking that would fit in very well with the architecture of the house — I feel his work as an artist is sometimes quite close to architecture — I felt he would be at home in the house. Viv was the same thing but for other reasons. Once they were cast, I then realized they were both very good performers and I stretched them and encouraged them to move away from their own selves in some ways so that they’re not playing just a version of themselves but creating a character — but I want that character they create to feel entirely real.
You mentioned earlier the “document,” which is your version of the screenplay. How does that take shape and what is included?
It’s a long process that starts with writing notes in notebooks and then eventually it gets distilled to about 30 pages that looks and reads more like a piece of prose, or a novella possibly, illustrated by photographs — I always put photographs in my documents — and then that document is allowed to change because I shoot in story order, so I give myself that freedom to adapt the story as I go along. But I didn’t show Liam or Viv this document before we started filming. They both agreed to make the film without looking at anything written down.
Did you show them anything at all?
I didn’t show them any of this original document — they still haven’t seen it — but what I did start to do, because I realized it might help them, was write scenes as I went along. I would write new scenes or versions of scenes that I had written in the original document and present that to them about a half-hour before shooting it. I didn’t want them to learn the lines but just for them to have an understanding of where to go in the scene.
What sort of images do you have in your document?
There were images of the neighborhood; particular frames or angles I wanted to recreate in the film. There were also some reflections in the house, this inside-outside aspect I talked about.
So these are all photographs you take?
They are all photographs I have taken and they relate very specifically to my story. It was the same with “Archipelago,” and sometimes some of the frames in the finished films relate to a still I had taken. Then, of course, I work very closely with my cinematographer, Tim Rutherford. I’ll show him my stills, we’ll take more stills — he’ll take some stills himself — and we’ll talk about other references, whether paintings or other photographs. It’s an ongoing process but it kicks off with taking photographs myself.
The sound in the film is such a felt presence: it’s there but it’s not there. The sliding doors, the chairs rolling on the ground, the ambient noise coming from the street outside — it’s all used in a very engaging way.
In this document that I just described I would mention sounds, particular sounds. I talked about creating soundscapes, creating stories in sound that D would hear or imagine, however one looks at it. This kind of texture of the soundscape was there from the beginning and was another starting point for the project. I’m really interested in sound and with “Exhibition” in particular, we pushed the sound much further into something more dreamlike, a less realistic approach to sound, almost creating music out of the natural sounds.
Is this something you look forward to, pushing the role of sound in the film toward something more impressionistic?
I’m always thinking about sound. Since arriving in New York I hear sounds: I’m listening to the air conditioner in here, the sirens in New York, which have a particular quality different from the ones in London. I’m possibly more interested in sound than in image.
Are you interested in pushing these qualities of film toward something that’s completely non-narrative or toward further reaches of experimentation?
I’m always thinking about that and sometimes I wonder if it’s necessary to work in different ways. I recognize the desire for audiences when they’re watching a film in a cinema to have some kind of narrative element to hang on to. Even with “Exhibition,” some audiences find it challenging; they’re not quite sure what kind of beast this is. I’ve got polarized opinions about the film, which is interesting. But yes, I’ve thought a lot about working in different forms and different lengths. In cinema you’re limited to this length of around 90 minutes. Maybe 40 minutes is nice to do sometimes, or three minutes. I think a lot about that kind of experimentation, or even if art house cinema is the right arena for that.
