Bill Viola is a self-proclaimed proponent of artists speaking about
their work, as a refuge from mediated professional discourse. Yesterday,
a few hundred lucky San Franciscan's had the pleasure of hearing the
LA-based artist discuss his controversial approach to art, in a
conversation with celebrated stage director Peter Sellars and San
Francisco Museum of Modern Art director David Ross.

The panel celebrated the opening of SFMOMA's exhibition, "Bill Viola: A
25-Year Survey," which will run through September 12. The exhibition
arrived in California after stops in New York and Europe.

Viola's talk, like his video and installation work, steered clear of any
mention of irony, pop-culture, or politics. Viola avoids what might be
called "cynical" or critical approaches to art, opting instead for
unbridled spirituality in the creation of "states of being."

David Ross opened the discussion by arguing that we now "see and hear
differently than before." Dropping Benjamin's notion of the "aura" in
the age of mechanical reproduction, Ross asked Viola and Sellars about
technology's affect on perception. Sellars mourned the loss of media's
former tactile quality, such as a manuscript which was transcribed by
hand – where knowledge was gained not just from the text but from the
act of transcribing.

Viola didn't seem as bothered by new technology, arguing that his
adoption of video felt like a natural continuum from his childhood use
of Super-8 film cameras. He is fascinated by technology which allows for
"seeing at a distance," a simultaneity of time, where the remote becomes
familiar and "time becomes a sculpture."

He then expressed gratitude and awe at the exhibition, remarking how
individual pieces still give him strong emotional recall. For example,
a shot of a tree brought back strong memories of when he shot the video.
Watching his video, he can feel "presences" in the room.

Viola also remembered being a child, lying on his bed in the dark,
looking at the grainy images of headlights passing over his ceiling, to
the muffled voices of his parents and their friends. This recollection
seemed to poetically encapsulate several of the works in the exhibition.

Viola argued that the power of art is not in the uniqueness of an
object, but in the viewer's relationship to the object. After an
explanation of Brunelleschi's 1432 discovery of vanishing point
perspective, Viola said he was fascinated by the concept of "exact"
views – where a shot captures an individual, at a specific moment in
time, looking at specific objects. He said that this radically departed
from earlier "divine" art which represented timeless or ambiguous
realms.

Ross pressed Viola to talk about two central themes in his work:
consciousness and time. Viola explained how video technology
reintroduced the concept of a "live image" – an "open eye," in which
time can flow at a "natural," continuous pace. Video has the power to
convey an "eternal present." He joked about a security camera in a Zen
Center, and the audience laughed with him.

He argued that the concept of "natural time" is in stark contrast to
Western notions in which time is individual, linear, and closed. The
16th Century invention of the clock had a profound impact on psychology
and society. He joked that it's ridiculous to quantify 3AM as the same
unit as 3PM – arguing that, in human experience, these equal units are
irreconcilably different. But once time was divided into equal
portions, it could be bought and sold. Now, he said, we sell people's
attention spans.

He complained that Western art has largely ignored "natural time." Ross
then praised Viola's work for providing intimate exposure to this
alternate perspective.

Viola clarified the idea with anecdotes about religion and time,
speaking of the "now moment" or "eternity of the moment." His central
image was a wheel which travels a hundred miles but doesn't go anywhere,
rotating always around the center. He said that churches teach a circle
of repetition through prayer, and that this circle becomes more real and
more permanent than the building itself, able to survive even if the
building is destroyed.

Discussion turned to Viola's installation, "The Stopping Mind" (1991).
The viewer is surrounded by four screens of natural or urban imagery. At
random intervals, frenetic video plays (to a cacophony of wind and
rustling) then jolts still, allowing the viewer to study the environment
and soak in the mood. Viola pointed out that there are 54,000 frames of
video and that each viewing is different. He recalled an elderly German
woman who once walked into the exhibit to see only red strokes on the
screens; unmoved, she walked out right before the screens exploded into
color and sound. He said that every viewer has a different experience.

Viola later said that "human emotions have infinite resolution" – one
can magnify images or slow down video frames to infinitely "open up"
captured emotions. This concept may be best explored in "Passage"
(1987), which features slowed video of a child's birthday party. As
children ride donkeys and enjoy birthday cake, image and sound ooze
forward at a snail's pace.

Sellars said that he may be the only person alive to watch all seven
hours of the footage. He likes to study the frames of the children's
faces, imagining an entire life cycle in a single glance. He added that
this concept is central to Indian art and religion, where the gaze –
what you "have in your eye" as you look – shapes your entire world and
your interaction with others.

Discussion turned to "Threshold," which is installed in an office
building in San Francisco's financial district. A live news ticker
innocently lures local workers into the building, then shocks them with
three large screens of sleeping faces. In this installation, Ross
wanted to encourage the serendipitous discovery of art. He also likened
the art museum to an amusement park: "each piece is a ride."

When asked about future directions in art, Viola said that he was
fascinated by video becoming historical. He also expressed enthusiasm
for artists working with "states of being as an artistic medium."
"Visual art represents invisible things," he said, whether the work is
"digital, stone, metal or otherwise."

On July 10, Blasthaus will host "a special event for the electronic
music community in celebration of the exhibition." The SFMOMA
galleries will be flanked by two dancing areas, a dozen DJs, and
multimedia peformers. Visitors can expect multiple states of being until
2AM.